The rain fell in droves, a solemn choir that mirrored Spike’s inner turmoil in dreary reverie. The night was frigid, and the windows in the aging library sputtered and cackled in protest against the bitter wind. Darkness engulfed the tree, as if the lifeblood that had once fueled it through so many sleepless, study-driven nights was now dead. Only a faint ember of an orange glow could be seen from the bottom-most window as the fireplace crackled in harmony against the pouring rain.

The rain slammed against the branches and ceiling as if a hundred omnipresent hooves begged for entry. Spike sat alone. He trembled, staring into the page as if he had never written a letter in all his years. It’s just the cold, he lied spitefully to the crackling fire in front of him. He dipped the pen into the ink.

“Dear Princess Celestia,”

A thunderous noise shot through the house, jerking Spike awake.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The door buckled under repeated assault, and Spike pulled himself from his warm place on the rug, running over to the wooden frame and opening it in a panic.

A white alicorn stood shaking before him, the colors of her mane splattered against her body and one another in awful disarray. Eyeliner poured from around her wide eyes, painting black rivers against her pristine coat.

She took a step forward, a flash of lightning behind her illuminating her daggerlike glare.

“Where is she.”

“I... I’ve never seen her cry before, Spike. Are you sure the princess is okay?” It was another consecutive sleepless night for Fluttershy, but her eyes searched frantically around the room as if she had taken a shot of adrenaline.

Spike shook his dripping head. “She’s not a princess tonight, Fluttershy.” After a moment of contemplation, she gave a simple nod.

The sobs of a wounded mother echoed into the night.

The train ambled forward, bouncing softly as it began the ascent onto the steep mountainside. Cursed into a sleepless trance, Spike stared lifelessly out the window. As he gazed out into the dying night, he wondered if Celestia had failed to perform her duties for the first time in a thousand years; the sun should have risen already.

A hoof fell onto his hand.

“You must try and sleep, Spike,” said Rarity, her voice hushed. He did not turn to meet her gaze, but took her hoof in his hand.

“Can’t,” he muttered simply.

Rarity exhaled a long, worried breath. “Well, I suppose I’ll forgive you this once for keeping a lady awake,” she said, before her words transitioned into a yawn.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have awoken you to all this trouble. I could have just come by myself.”

He felt her soft hoof land on his cheek, tugging slightly, beckoning him to look. After a moment, he obliged, turning himself and looking absently into Rarity’s eyes. “Never speak those words again,” she whispered, her caring gaze betraying her words. “If ever you find yourself in need, no matter if the morning has come or if the night is eternal, I will be there.”

He couldn’t bring himself to smile. Tears could not come. Instead, he gazed languidly at her for a long moment, and nodded. That was enough for her to understand. She laid her head against his chest, and soon they breathed in harmony.

Glimmers of light danced and refracted around the carriage as the dark horizon finally gave way to a tiny corona of orange.

Even goddesses could be late.

“Celestia is... what?” Luna demanded in a rushed whisper, ushering Spike and Rarity into a room and closing the door swiftly.

“Not coming back. Not for awhile, at least.” Spike repeated matter-of-factly. “She wouldn’t budge.”

“Heavens!” Luna cursed, stifling a yawn with a small shake of her head. “We knew... er... I knew Twilight Sparkle was wounded, but I can’t imagine it would be so grievous as to call Celestia from her duties!”

“I just don’t know; she acted as if Twilight was dying. She hardly spoke a word!” Rarity explained, taking over the conversation as Spike sat down on the far side of the room. “She only demanded someone travel to Canterlot immediately to inform you.”

Luna sighed in exasperation. “Well, I certainly am glad the two of you made it in such post-haste. Fine-- Celestia had done my duties for a thousand years while I wallowed in madness, so surely she may be granted her time as well. I simply hope she is not looking to trump my record,” Luna said with a smirk.

Rarity laughed politely, but Spike was morosely silent. He stared out the window of the small room as if he was a prisoner of its walls.

Picking up on a concerned look from Rarity, Luna walked over and stood next to the dragon, gazing out the window in tandem. “Even princesses grieve, and must sleep and eat, and face problems just like any of our subjects, Spike. To expect more of yourself than of your princesses is the noblest heresy I have yet encountered in all my years.”

Spike did not respond. His eyes stayed firmly planted on the horizon.

“Get some sleep,” the princess finished, turning and walking to the door. She nodded to Rarity. “You too, even if he won’t. Element of generosity be damned; you can’t help him if you can’t help yourself,” she instructed tactfully.

Rarity gave a worried smile, saying “Thank you, Princess,” in a near-whisper.

Luna cocked an eyebrow with a grin. “Remember? Call me Luna. Consider this room yours for as long as you require. I have daytime to attend to. However...”

“Spike,” Luna called, as she opened the door. He turned his head and stared blankly at her.

“If ever you are overburdened by this ordeal, do not hesitate to seek me out. My heart, too, knows the guilt of deeds once done. My mind, too, is unable to place the blame on anyone but myself.” She gave him a small smile. “All you need do is ask.” Without another word, Luna closed the door.

Rarity let out a devious yawn as Luna left, finally revealing her fatigue. She meandered over to the single, enormous bed in the small room, and climbed atop it. “Come along, now,” she called, lying her head back against the pillow and closing her eyes.

The irony of the situation almost forced a crooked grin from Spike. The sight that normally would make his heart flutter and his legs weak instead seemed like an obligation. Still, he stood up, and made his way to join her. As he lay down, she turned to face him and shuffled closer. She lay his head on him, draped a single hoof over his body, and closed her eyes to meet the languid drolls of sleep.

Among Rarity’s hold, Spike could no longer fight the fatigue that ate at his consciousness. Finally, his eyes fluttered shut, and his mind gave way to peace.

The time for tears had come and gone, a luxurious moment of emotion that Celestia had not felt in years. She left the stains around her eyes and down her cheeks in place. Moving for the first time in hours, she turned swiftly to face the window behind her, slamming the curtains open with her hooves.

A deep breath. In through the mouth, and out through the muzzle. The trick had worked for years to alleviate the weight of the crown, but its magic was lost amongst real pony emotion. Still, her duty called whether she was ready for it or not; she had allowed herself to be late already, but the day could not wait any longer.

Looking to the horizon, she sat back onto her haunches, and her horn began to glow. Her body began to shake; the weight of her duty was quite literal. She clenched her eyes, and began to lift her hooves from the ground, as if she was hoisting a large, invisible object. Trembling, she unfurled her wings. Across the valley and over the horizon, an orange glow began to peek over the tips of the mountains. Transfixing herself on the light, she let her magic flow, imagining the light of the sun spilling out into the valley like an unstoppable flood of liquid energy. Allowing herself another breath, she took hold of the light with her magic and pushed her hooves up into the air. The edges of her wings twitched as the weight raised off her shoulders. Her legs began to wobble, and she fell to the floor beneath the windowsill in a manner much too unbefitting for a princess.

The first ray of light shined through the window, dancing across Celestia’s form. The energy she had given to the sun was being given back. After a minute of sunlight, she sat up, reinvigorated by the sliver of orange peeking over the mountainside.

Hmm, the sun said to her curiously. The night has not invoked such emotions in you for years, Celestia. Let me take them. To rule under such burdens would be unwise.

Celestia remained silent. She brought a hoof to her own cheek, feeling the dried mascara against her matted fur.

“No. For now, such things are my fuel forward. A reminder that, once, I was a unicorn who did not have the luxury of abating her problems with the light of eternity.” She narrowed her eyes, her basest duty to Equestria completed, filled with determination. “Now help me.”

Celestia turned back to Twilight, pulling back the blankets that covered the sleeping mare. Fluttershy had not lied to her, but she had certainly been holding to her element when she had given her status report. She had been trying to soften the blow as she spoke about the injuries. Hope clouded the diagnosis; the mare found comfort in the chance that Twilight would fully recover.

Twilight would never walk again without agony trailing every step. Her hoof had compressed into her leg, crunching the bones together. On top of that, she had fractured her hip, presumably from repeated falls.

Celestia grimaced, breathing slowly and closing her eyes. She had been granted princess-hood for her ability to care, heal, and give herself wholly to ensure that a pony stayed alive. Those years, fending for their tribe in the Everfree Forest, were lost to history, and nearly from her memories as well. Between her ability to doctor, and Luna’s ability to fight, they had forged civilization over many years in the harshest of climates.

Celestia’s heart went out to those who did not have the luxury of personally knowing a miracle worker; too many ponies would suffer an injury like this for the rest of their days. Perhaps the act was selfish: if she had time to grieve and attend to Twilight, why not all the other ponies who desperately needed her?

She knew both the edges of omnipotence well.

Her horn began to glow, encompassing the leg in a soft yellow light.

Rarity awoke to a room bathed in the orange of late afternoon. She had always been quick to wake; her frantic mind always seemed to pull her from bed at the first thought of being productive.

Today, however, it was distracted. Spike held her close in his sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She battled the urge to nuzzle up against him, finding her muzzle tucked sweetly in the crook of his neck. Aside from a not wholly-unpleasant musk that surrounded Spike, he smelled earthy, like an aging pine tree. She looked up into his face through half-lidded eyes, wishing only for him to be awake and gazing back into hers. Her waking mind swam, entranced in the romance of the moment wholly.

Instead, she inched her hoof along his chest, feeling his scales and the ridges of his light muscular frame beneath them. It was odd, admiring someone who was quite far from the epitome of strength and endurance, but refreshing. For years, she had been told that those were the things a lady would look for; and she had. However, there was a certain charm in him now, and for the first time she felt as if she were attracted to someone’s mind and insight along with their body. Not that she had been vain over the years, but rather... oversaturated with choices. As pleasant as the memory sounds, in truth it had simply turned affairs of the heart into sinking knee-deep into a pile of rubbish to find the gems she was looking for. Which, in recent years, she had abandoned as a fruitless endeavor, deciding once and for all that bland and uninteresting partners were not worth trudging through for simple physical satisfaction.

Now that her mind had come to it, though... it had been quite some time since she had been with another stallion. She shivered slightly at the thoughts assaulting her mind, pushing herself closer into Spike’s musk as she did so.

As much as she desired it, though, there was still Twilight to address before she went forward with her ambitions. She knew her friend and, while it was unlikely, the chance that she had developed feelings for the dragon during their “practice” together was still there. Such chances were too dangerous landmines to risk treading near.

Still, Spike seemed perfectly willing to accept her affections, and that meant that building their relationship in other ways was not off the table. And since they were in Canterlot...

Ah, there it was. The need to get up and do something. At least planning a date in Canterlot was exciting and new. Rarity smirked, pulled herself close to Spike one last time, and crawled out from beneath his grasp.

Spike lay perfectly still, his body stiff and unforgiving. The warmth of the blankets and softness of his pillow kept his mind in a groggy, lucid state. He did not want to be conscious; all he desired was to keep sleeping forever. But the discomfort of being at rest ached his mind into believing it had no other choice.

As his senses returned to him, he faintly realized the sensation of a breath across his nose. Warm and sweet, it could not have been his own.

Peeking his eyes open, he was met with the sight of two luscious blue orbs gazing brilliantly back at him. The top of Rarity’s cheeks perked happily over the bottom of her eyes as she saw Spike’s open.

“Good morning, darling.”

Spike smiled back, and sidled his nose against Rarity’s muzzle. Rarity blinked once, slowly, so her long eyelashes tickled Spike’s cheeks playfully.

“You have beautiful eyes,” mumbled Spike, though the words were hardly coherent.

Rarity’s eyes gleamed as if in response, and she smiled once more. Leaning in, she kissed him sweetly, never breaking her gaze.

Spike brought his claw up, albeit slowly due to his morning aches, and rested it on her neck. As they kissed, he stroked his fingers up and down through her short, soft fur. Rarity’s hoof rested against his chest, trailing up and down affectionately.

They lay together for close to half an hour, fiddling with one another and reveling in one another’s touch. Whenever Spike’s claw would pass over a sensitive spot on Rarity’s body, she would giggle and squirm cutely, tickled by the sharp contours of his fingers.

Rarity was careful to keep her distance; she never brought her body against his own, or hinted that their playing should continue further. Spike followed her happily, content with the simple intimacy of the moment, too groggy to desire more.

Finally, Rarity pulled her face away and laid it on the pillow next to his.

“As much as I’d love to lay here all evening,” Rarity said, biting her bottom lip with a sigh. “There’s just too much to be done! Come along, now.”

Spike blinked in confusion as Rarity shoved him playfully from his spot in the bed. He tumbled slightly over the edge, before wobbling to his feet and looking around perplexed. “What do you mean, ‘too much to be done?’”

Rarity looked over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you can’t expect me to waste a free night in Canterlot confined to a single room, can you? Now come on; go have a shower!” She instructed, tugging on his arm with her magic and pushing him playfully into the restroom. “We’ll be late for our reservations unless you’re quick!”

With a final smile and a wink, she shut the door quickly before Spike could recover and ask any further questions. The night had officially begun.

Spike and Rarity walked into the restaurant, catching a nod from the attendant at the front, as if he knew that they belonged. The place was absolutely lavish; the walls were draped with satin and silk, and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting warm low-light over the room. The room was a giant oval, and the walls on the far reaches gave out to a glass patio, stairs leading down to the beach below.

Rarity grinned as she noticed Spike looking around awkwardly and adjusting his bowtie. The crowd that they had walked into was far above his comfortable caliber-- the stallions were dressed in suits and the occasional monocle, and nearly every mare had a designer dress of some sort.

Rarity, however, wore only a dress of confidence. She strolled leisurely through the tables, her perfectly styled mane bobbing in time with her steps, followed closely by her lanky, stumbling dragon companion.

She was catching eyes. Whether they were disdainful, inquisitive, or approving, she had been around Canterlot enough times to know that it made no difference. What mattered was the impression. She stopped a waiter politely with the wave of her hoof.

“Excuse me, Sir, but could you direct us to our table? I believe the princess called in...” she said in a hushed tone, loud enough for only those at the closest table to hear. It mattered not-- immediately the table began whispering to one another, catching a smirk from Rarity. She might as well have announced her words to the whole room; in a matter of minutes, everypony within these walls would know.

The waiter nodded courteously, turning and leading them out onto the back patio. They walked up a staircase made entirely out of crystal onto the roof of the building, which housed only a single table. The table, though, was in the middle of what appeared to be a deep, crystal-clear pond. Rarity rose a brow as she realized that the water was flowing in from the lake below the patio, enchanted to flow up the side of the building like a river running in reverse. Fish swam to and fro beneath the surface, seemingly unaware of their proximity to civilization.

“Follow me,” instructed the waiter, taking a step onto the surface of the pond. A blue ring pulsed out from his step, a flashy indication that the water was enchanted to be able to be trod upon. Rarity followed his gait gracefully, smiling as she looked over his shoulder to see Spike extending a toe, as if to test if the enchantment was truly there. His face lit up in wonder as his foot pressed into the water as if it were glass. She giggled; the dragon looked as if he were about to let out a squeal of excitement as he skipped forward to catch up with them.

The two sat down on opposite sides of the pristine, marble table, and the waiter stood affably before them. “Bring us whatever the princess would have. Oh, and... something with gems for him, won’t you? Thank you kindly,” Rarity directed, dismissing him with a nod.

When he was finally gone, Spike could no longer hold his tongue. “What kind of place is this? This is amazing! You can walk on water, Rarity! I knew that was possible, but to use it as decoration? I wonder what kind of enchantments they needed to get the water to flow up the building?.” Spike sat back into the plush seat on his side of the table, pushing himself into the cushions as if he were being swallowed whole by them.

Rarity rolled her eyes, but giggled in response. “My goodness, Spike. I haven’t seen you this bubbly in years!”

Spike blinked cautiously. He pulled himself from the confines of the chair and sat up, straight back, his hands folded politely on the table. “Sorry. I got a little carried away,” he excused, pointing his nose into the air.

Rarity cocked an eyebrow and grinned, before shoving him back into his chair playfully with her magic. “Spike, if I minded, I would be down there gallivanting with the rest of those haughty pure-breeds. I’ve long since had quite enough of the prim and proper; perhaps I could deal with it years ago, but it all just seems so... fabricated.” She laughed at the irony, lifting her glass of water and taking a small sip. “My dresses provide me with enough prim and proper fabrication, thank you.”

Spike leaned forward and grinned. “Ponyville has really got to you over the years, hasn’t it?”

Rarity tossed a hoof over her shoulder playfully. “Oh, it has its charms, I suppose. Familiarity is certainly one of the reasons I decided not to move to Canterlot,” she said with a smile.

“Move to Canterlot? When were you thinking of doing that?” Spike said, somewhat aghast at the notion.

Rarity took another sip of her drink. “Well, about a year ago I got an offer from a certain Hoity Toity to move my shop to Canterlot. He remembered me from his visit, and was looking for independent designers to help kickstart his new design label. Perhaps you’re aware of it?” She asked, pointing to a skyscraper looming above Canterlot with the letters “Hoity” on it.

Spike gasped. “And you didn’t go? Why in Equestria didn’t you go?”

Rarity’s gaze turned wistful and happy in a moment. “Funny that you, of all my friends, would ask.”

Spike blinked. “What now?”

Rarity smiled sweetly. “I went to Fluttershy, and Pinkie, and Applejack, and all of the girls. They all said I should go, and that we would keep in touch somehow, but that I should follow my dreams. I agreed with them. Canterlot is close enough to Ponyville that we could still see each other.”

“So, why did you stay?” Spike asked, now perplexed.

“Well, I still had you to tell. I figured I would tell you when we were out gem searching. I knew it would be hard on you-- I could only think of what it felt like when Blueblood destroyed my dreams all those years ago,” she said, rolling her eyes, embarrassed by the memory. “But I treated that trip like it was going to be the last. And I began to notice. How helpful you were. How you made me laugh. You were always there when I needed you. I finally saw the one that I had forgotten over all these years,” she said, blushing slightly.

“You were tired at the end of the day; I stayed out as long as I could, avoiding what I knew I had to tell you. So I told myself ‘Well, I’ll tell him next time, perhaps when he’s not so tired.’” Rarity looked almost bashfully at Spike from across the table. Spike himself was slightly slack-jawed, his mind slowly processing what she was saying.

“The next time was, of course, the same. I found some excuse to say nothing, all the while, I found myself uncovering the true gem I had come across on all those trips.”

“So I gave Hoity a call. I told him that I was making quite enough in Ponyville, and that I had business yet unresolved.” Rarity shrugged. “I haven’t thought twice about it.”

Spike, however, was looking at Rarity as if she had just escaped from an insane asylum. “You gave up your dream... for me? But... what... Rarity, I’m just some dumb dragon! You gave up everything you’ve worked for on the chance that I would someday finally tell you how I feel?”

“Yes,” said Rarity with a sweet smile. “But you don’t have to be so melodramatic about it. I told you; this life isn’t for me, Spike. I spent my entire youth wishing I could be somewhere else only to find that the only place I wanted to be was right where I was.”

She looked out over the lake, and into the sun, which was inching ever closer to the horizon. “Even if coming to Canterlot would have been my ‘dream’ as a designer, what kind of pony would I be here? Without my friends? Surrounded by more of the same ‘proper’ stallions that have been courting me all my life.” She sighed. “No. This place is not my dream. The dream has been my life so far; coming here would have just been a rude awakening.”

Spike’s mouth fell slightly agape, his mind hardly able to believe that the pony who had said those words was Rarity. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the words could have come from Twilight instructing him to write a letter about the magic of friendship. His face twisted into a concerned grimace almost immediately.

“Dear...” Rarity chimed in softly, “are you quite alright?”

He shook his head, giving a crooked smile. “Yeah, everything is perfect. I...” He gulped. Why couldn’t he just let it go? He felt like banging his head against the crystal table.

Rarity looked unconvinced, frowning worriedly at him. “Spike, if something is amiss, know that you can always trust me to be a sympathetic ear. You don’t have to put on an act for me.”

He let out a dry laugh. “It’s nothing, really. You just sounded like...”

Rarity’s brows furrowed, leaning forward slightly and looking sympathetically at the dragon as she finished his words in her own mind.

Immediately, he averted his eyes, unable to bear her gaze. “Sorry,” he groaned, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to...”

She began to open her mouth as if to speak, but Spike silenced her with a disgruntled sigh. “I’ll be right back,” he said, standing up from the table in an instant, muttering some excuse about using the restroom.

Rarity’s eyes never left Spike as he sulked across the pond and down the stairs.

Cold water rushed down Spike’s face, but not even the pure liquid from the porcelain sink could dam his self-loathing. He slammed a fist down onto the sink’s edge, groaning desperately through eyes squeezed shut.

Despite the cold water, the warmth of the fireplace on the very first night was still burned into his mind. The porcelain of the sink felt like the soft, ample flesh of her hooves, and his tense breaths felt hot, heavy, and laced with the plague-like lavender scent that permeated his better intentions.

Somehow, before he saw her again, he had to forget. He was certain he would lose everything if he couldn’t. Now that Rarity was open about her affections, Twilight’s goal was complete. If she could never trust him to look upon her as a friend again, she would have to create the distance herself. She would never leave him as a friend; she had learned too much in her years in Ponyville to ever consider that.

I... I don’t want to go! Please, Twilight... don’t leave me!

He remembered the door. She had promised she would never send him away. But now, he was older; old enough that, were he a pony with regular parents, he would be sent to live on his own soon. He knew if he was unable to withhold his advances, and rid himself of his feelings for her, it could be the end.

Why don’t you find somewhere by yourself, Spike? Start a home, and life for yourself!

He could imagine her saying the words as if the mirror reflecting his sullen eyes was Sombre’s door itself. If he had imagined it only a week ago, he might not be so frightened by the idea. All it had taken was the simple idea that she could be more than a friend. He felt more vulnerable and dependant than he ever had when he was only a dragonling.

He dropped his head sullenly into the sink once more, letting the water flow over his head, begging for divine clarity.

A hoof landed on his shoulder. Surprised, he whirled around to face the pony that had intruded onto his moment of self reflection.

The smiling face of a royal blue alicorn gazed into him. “I’ve been listening, Spike.”

“Luna?” he stammered, his eyes looking around the room as if his senses had betrayed him. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you; all you need do is ask. Sometimes, our mind does the asking whether we mean it to or not.” With a smirk, she removed her hoof from his shoulder and materialized each of them a chair, without even so much as a glow from her horn.

“How...?”

“Consider yourself in...” she smirked as she found the word. “A daydream. Being the ruler of the night comes with more than just the power to raise the moon, you know. But the methods of which I am here are simply semantics.”

“You feel so troubled that you abandon your friend who seeks only to help, and confine yourself not only to physical solitude, but trap yourself within your own self-loathing mind as well. There is more pain than simple guilt that Twilight Sparkle was wounded.”

Spike looked shamefully at the ground, pivoting himself so that he faced away from the princess. “How did you...”

“It is not by arcanery that I know your thoughts, young dragon. In truth, your actions alone have telegraphed all that needs to be presumed,” Luna asserted, taking a step forward to stand alongside Spike. “Tell me.”

Spike hesitated, turning his head slowly to look into the eyes of Luna. They seemed strong, confident, and full of experience. It was an odd look of understanding.

“I asked her to help me; I thought I needed to know what it felt like to be with somepony, and she obliged. I just never thought that...”

“You would fall in love?” she asked, with a smirk and a cock of her eyebrow.

Spike averted his eyes. “L-Love? No, I just began to look at her as if--”

A hoof landed on his chest, and he glanced into her confident gaze for a moment before continuing to look away. “Yes. Love, my dear dragon. Ponies go lifetimes without finding it. To come across it and push it away is a tragedy waiting to be written. Do you love her, Spike?”

His heart pounded in his chest. He looked away, gulping as the question bore into his mind. He opened his words to speak, but no words came forth.

“You see? Your body knows, even though your mind does not. You need not say anything at all; merely know that love is nothing to fear.” She removed her hoof from his chest, averted her eyes, and climbed back into her chair.

She waited a moment, allowing Spike to recompose himself, sit back, and look in her direction once more. “Why,” she continued, more softly now “does this cause you such distress, my dear subject?”

“She... she can’t know,” he spat out, clenching his eyes shut as if saying the words wounded him. “She doesn’t feel the same way. She was just helping me, and I pushed her to even do that. If she knows, she may never look at our friendship the same way ever again. I can’t risk pushing her away... even a little.”

Spike sighed and slumped over in his seat. “What’s even worse is that Rarity picks now, of all times, to finally be interested in me. And... she’s... she’s everything I ever dreamed of. She’s gorgeous, and understanding, and down to earth, and wise, and I’m sitting there like an idiot moaning and pouting, completely wrapped up in my own thoughts. I want to be here with her. For years, I’ve waited for this day, and I’m the one ruining it.”

Luna’s eyes finally relented to a sympathetic form, and she gave a single nod. “I understand the feeling, Spike. Tell me; when did your affections for Rarity begin?”

Leaning back, Spike turned his thoughts to the past. A smile creeped over his face as the memories came to him easily. “I remember my first day in Ponyville. Looking back on it, it was the best day of my life. I met Rarity as we walked into her shop for the first time, and I immediately knew I was looking upon the most beautiful pony I had ever seen. I remember watching her as she fixed Twilight’s hair; the way her hooves moved was a magic I’d never seen before.”

Leaning back into his chair, he ran his claws through over his head, letting out a sigh and a chuckle. “I woke up the next morning, and all five were closer friends than Twilight had ever had before. And it was all in one night. Twilight told me everything and I felt so stupid for falling asleep and missing it all... but the real friendships were forged in the years to come. Every time Rarity would ask me to help her find gems, I’d wake up hours early, doing whatever I could to get as ready as possible. At first, it was a foolish affection; she was pretty, and that was it.”

“Things started to change when I gave her that fire ruby. That whole day was... such a mess. I still remember how she looked when we were falling from the sky. And after everything that I had done, she never even once held it against me. Every day I saw her, I told myself I could do it-- that I just had to be patient. I guess... I was more right than I thought.”

Luna gave a nod. “Do you love her, Spike?” she asked softly after a moment of hesitation.

His body and mind once again screamed ‘yes’, urging him to lean forward and destroy any doubts that the question harbored. Instead, he simply sat looking at the princess, and did not answer.

“Good. No answer at all is sometimes the best answer we can give. However...” Luna’s words trailed off and she closed her eyes briefly. She breathed a long, deep breath before continuing.

“Millenia ago I knew the same strife you know now. One might think an Alicorn finding love should be impossible; so many years creates such great distance, to truly connect might seem impossible.” She opened her eyes, looking once again determined and serious. “The heart, however, does not play by rules.”

“All those years ago, my heart was torn between a stallion by the name of Star Dancer and a mare by the name of Night Glider. For years, I remained friends with both, my heart longing to pursue, but my mind indecisive and concerned. After years of friendship, and promises left to the ages, Night Glider confronted me. She told me she would wait however long it took, but she asked why I hesitated so. I told her everything.”

Luna took another breath, her face twisting into a visage of pain. “That night, she lept from the castle walls with her wings tied to her sides.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he gasped in horror.

“I found a note. She could never ask me to choose. She wanted me to find true happiness. It was only in the face of such tragedy that my mind finally heard the message my heart had been trying to send all those years.”

“My heart grew cold and dark for many years. The seeds of darkness found refuge in my mind. My strife knew no end.” Luna glared darkly into Spike’s eyes from behind her mane. “I toiled endlessly, never knowing respite of mortal death, despite all my attempts to find it.” Her soft voice quivered in fear. “And now all the ponies in the land know the ending to the story, told in fairy tales and retold in nightmares. I am cursed to watch each and every time a foal jerks awake, terrified of the face I once called my own.”

Luna leaned forward, planting her hooves on the ground, her metal shoes chiming eerily against the bathroom floor. “The heart can destroy you, Spike.” She grinned, her teeth sharp and vicious. Her coat turned black in an instant, and her mane twisted horribly into an evil, familiar cloud. Nightmare Moon let out an awful cackle.

“Do not betray your heart.”

In a cold flash, water from the faucet poured over Spike’s head, and he jerked upwards into the faucet uncontrollably.

“Sir, are you quite alright?” asked a gentlecolt who had entered only a moment before, looking worriedly upon the dragon.

Spike’s breathing came heavy and ragged as he recovered from the image of Nightmare Moon burned into his mind. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.” He rubbed his head where it collided with the hard faucet and turned back to look into the mirror.

The heart can destroy you. The words echoed through his mind. With a determined look, he found new fire in the green eyes that stared back at him.

It was time to choose.

Author's Note

God, you guys must hate me by now. Exposition, character building, more exposition aaah!!!! When are we going to get to the interesting bits?!

Next, I would theorize. I only hope it won't take me three weeks to write like this chapter did (though I did so battling midterms as well), but I promise that, next time, the flames will rise once more.

Thank you all for your tremendous support. I absolutely adore every comment that you spend your time to give me, and I try my best to respond to each meaningful bit you guys throw in.

Special thanks, as always, to Khakispony for being a wonderful fresh set of eyes and an ever-diligent proofreader.
Special thanks for this chapter specifically to Artimae for lending his eyes and criticisms.

Love,
Idylia