A Piece of Unwritten History

by Of No Importance

Faded Photographs of You

Fifty-three red roses. Fifty-three exactly. There had been fifty-four, but a forlorn filly along the path had been in need of one, and it was what she would've wanted anyway. Her generosity always did trump his greed, and maybe that was one of the reasons he loved her.

The walk to her place was always so long, but the journey was rarely uneventful. The town was so alive; ponies running here and there: fillies and colts lost in their own world of imagination, stallions and mares walking hoof in hoof, or simply groups of friends trotting along and sharing the joys of life. Spike made this walk alone, of course, but he didn't particularly mind. This was their time, anyway. If she deserved anything, it was the entirety of his attention.

There had been a time in his life that the mere idea of presenting the beautiful mare with such a gesture of affection would've stopped the dragon in his tracks, a mess of purple scales flushing red, but that time had passed, just as all others had before it. He was a drake grown, after all, and growing up was essential. Even then, he was still her little Spikey-Wikey. Or, at least he wanted to be.

Every year it was the same; the routine was without fail. Every year, it was one rose more, though, and he would never let himself lose count. This was her day, from that day to the last. He awoke at sunrise, just as he did the year before, and then he would wander down to the flower stalls at the market the moment they opened. Roses were always in high demand, and their price wasn't prone to dropping, but the dragon never missed out. It was possible the shopkeeper had caught on, but as the shopkeeper tended to change every few decades or so, it seemed unlikely.

The route never differed, and every step was taken with a certain familiarity. It was a trek the dragon was happy to make, and it was one he would make again. It was a labour of love, after all, and what force could ever hope to rival that?
As he walked the path, Spike's eyes caught glimpses of recognition; small pieces of his friends scattered amongst the crowds, and among one sixth of those pieces, his grip on the flowers grew tighter. He wasn't far now, and soon she'd have them. He sincerely hoped he hadn't kept her waiting too long.

The large reptile knelt by the grave, swiping away the stray piles of leaves that littered the area, and placed the roses down gently against the headstone. His claw gently traced the outline of her name, a bitter smile creeping across his lips. He silently read the inscription, though he long ago committed it to memory. "Here lies Rarity. The Element of Generosity. Wife, Mother, Friend, and Revolutionary Fashionista." She would've liked that last part. She would've liked it a whole lot.

After a few minutes of silent fussing, wiping away any disrespectful smudges that might've come to fall upon his beloved's resting place, the lone visitor began to speak. "Fifty-four years, huh? It's been quite a while." His voice was breaking, but if he didn't talk, she was lost. She would've understood, given the circumstances. "There's one rose missing, sorry, but it made somepony's day, and I know you would've loved that." The grave gave no reply, but the image of the beautiful mare still stared straight at him, looking stunning as always.

By this stage, tears were cascading down the dragon's face, lining the cracks between his scales like rainfall to a bone dry desert path. "The boutique is going so well. They've really got your blood." He hadn't been to the boutique in decades. It hurt far too much to see the inside. "They look so much like you, all of them." He wanted to be strong, desperately, but it was proving futile, just like the year before, and the year before that. As desperate as he was to see her, the image would fade away, constantly reminding him that his love was no more.

"I miss you..." Three simple words, but they hurt more than any other. In order to say those simple three words, Spike had to admit to himself that she was gone, and he had to admit that she wasn't coming back. The sheer thought was enough to-

Flap, flap, flap.

Spike's eyes opened, his claws immediately grasping for the fire ruby, just to check if it was still there. The colossal guardian let out a relieved sigh as he found the gem where he left it.

Day Two Hundred and Eighty-Nine Thousand, and Ninety-Eight.

He sat up, stretching out his stiff joints and gazing out of his cave. They had arrived the previous day. Seven dragons, fairly large, and among them was the one who got away. When they first arrived in the area, he had panicked, thinking that Ponyville was in grave danger, but that fear had been unfounded. They weren't there for Ponyville, they weren't there to forage or destroy, they were there for him. The strongest warriors of the dragon roost had come to finally kill the monster that had plagued their lives for almost a millennia.

His hoard was depleted largely, as he had planted deposits of it around the clearing, and in other caves, hoping to throw his pursuers off of the scent, but it had only given them sustenance, and their hunt was ongoing. They had checked all of the caves immediately upon their arrival, but by digging into the centre of the mountain and using his hoard to hide the tunnel, they had merely thought he was on the run. But, much to Spike's displeasure, they were patient, and they would wait until he came back. Dragons were greedy creatures, and it was not common for one to abandon their hoard.

So, it was simply a matter of time before they found him, or he ran out of food, and then his death was inevitable. As large as he was, larger than any of them, he was outnumbered, and presumably outmatched.

The leader, or so he thought judging by the fact he led the pack, was an emerald drake with even deeper green spines across his long, serpentine body. His wingspan was, by far, the largest of the would be assassins, and the beast cast a wide shadow across the landscape as its keen eyes scouted the area.

The second dragon was far more bulky, perhaps even slightly pudgy, really. It was-

Flap, flap, flap.

They were coming, and he didn't have long. His tunnel was still hidden, but not by much, and it seemed that this would be where his last stand was staged. Shoving the pile of gems, knickknacks and other pointless garbage aside, Spike backed into his tunnel. It wasn't wide enough for any sort of sideways movement, so if he wanted to stay aware of his surroundings, he had to go in backwards. Once he was in position, the dragon began to stack his hoard back over the entrance, his heart racing in his chest as the incessant flapping got louder and louder. But, as the last gem was placed, something caught his eye. A glimmer of dullness amongst the default shine. It was a photo album. If he was going to die, his last thoughts would be of home. The book was in his claws before he finished the thought.

"Still no sign of it." He heard a deep, gruff voice emerge from the outer world; one of the dragons, of course. "Are you sure you're not just crazy, Tzarif? That would save us a lot of time."
"These gems didn't come out of nowhere, and stop joking about this! Dragons have been dying for centuries, and we finally know why!" Tzarif, the dragon who had escaped, had a much less intimidating voice, but it still had the deadly hiss wild dragons tended to exhibit. Or, maybe he was just a bit annoyed.

The group started to eat away at the guardian's shield, and the fear slowly began to fade into anticipation. They would break through eventually, and then the end would come. Spike didn't fear death as much as he feared what his death would bring upon Ponyville. He had been given one task, one chance to prove his life a worthwhile endeavour, and he had failed. All he could hope was that his death would somehow satisfy the bloodthirsty creatures, and they would leave his real treasure alone. It was a thin hope.

What was Ponyville, really? Besides the obvious fact that it once housed the Elements of Harmony, what good did it do Equestria? Sweet Apple Acres was minuscule in comparison to some of the orchards around the world. The Ponyville Library, though it contained the history of Princess Twilight Sparkle, was feeble when held against the vast variety within the Canterlot Library. The town held no purpose, and yet Spike had been guarding it for centuries. Celestia should've just evacuated and let the dragons take what they wanted. He was the protector, and now he was going to die along with them. What was the point?

But, in a moment of clarity, there it was. Held within the dragon's claws was all the reason he needed. In one claw, there was a photo album, a simple, leather-bound photo album. In the other, there was a golden pendant, covered in scratches and marks from centuries of being held against rough scales, but preserved to a gentle glow. Spike remembered now. It was terrible of him to forget.

He put the album down on the floor of his tunnel, delicately turning the ancient pages. The pictures had all aged dreadfully, and the atmosphere of a cave was hardly gentle on them, but his eyes could just about make them out. It didn't take long before the dragon was lost in his memories; they welcomed him like an old friend, and rightfully so. After all, that's what he was: an old friend.

The picture was almost falling to pieces, but the image still seemed so clear, as if he had taken it only yesterday. Spike was only a child, no more than sixteen years old. Actually, he was exactly sixteen years old, and the picture was taken at his sixteenth birthday. He was a shrimpy child, as was to be expected of such a long-living race, and the smile that was painted across his face was not likely to be seen again.

Surrounding the young drake were his friends, the heroes of Equestria, and on either side were his dear caretaker, Twilight Sparkle, and the love of his life... Rarity.

Spike rubbed his eyes, hoping that somehow he could rid himself of the blindness that camera flashes brought with them on their journey to memories. None of the ponies around him seemed to care half as much, maybe dragons just had more sensitive eyes?

Once vision was restored to the drake, the sight of his surroundings was more than enough to bring a smile back to his face. The room was so filled with colour, and its inhabitants certainly matched. Given, Spike didn't actually know half of the attendees of his party, but that was a Pinkie Pie party for you. As long as everypony was having a good time, he couldn't really fault it in any way.

After the previous year's debacle, in which a certain dragon had rampaged through the town, Spike had opted to refuse presents, instead giving the party his full, undivided attention. Attention that was very much focused around a particular group of ponies. Attention that was gravitated mainly towards one pony in particular. There was only one mare that's mere presence brightened the room to a shine that rivalled Celestia's sun itself: Rarity.

He had known her for just over two years now, and he had loved her since the very first day. But, with this day, he made a decision. A decision that would change their lives forever. Spike the dragon was going to finally ask Rarity out. Not just 'out' as in 'outside the building', which he had done several times in the past when he had went to ask her out, chickened right out, and then rephrased it so that they were just standing outside for a bit. No, it wasn't one of those times.

Once the group of ponies surrounding her had dispersed just a little bit, the young dragon took his opportunity by the horns, and charged straight in. Well, it wasn't much of a charge, more of a casual saunter, really. His best attempts at looking casual proved futile though, as his nerves got the better of him, and he spent the better part of ten seconds walking towards the mare at an awkwardly slow pace, staring at her like he'd just received a few hundred thousand volts of electricity through his spine. It was strange how oddly specific his analogies became when he was nervous.

"Um, Rarity?" His voice was quiet; too quiet. So quiet that, in fact, Rarity didn't hear him over the noise of the party. So, in a stroke of brilliance, Spike did what he had done several times before. "Hey, Rarity," the young dragon began, raising his voice ever so slightly to be heard over the commotion inside, "can I talk to you outside for a minute?" The mare smiled and nodded in agreement, and before he knew it, there was silence.

The night was fairly cool, cool as a cucumber covered in cottage cheese. Why was there cottage cheese on the cucumber? Because Spike's mind had decided that would be colder than a regular cucumber. Before him stood the mare of his dreams, but the sheer sight of her short circuited his brain, and that meant all tact and cleverness that he may, or may not, have possessed previously had leaked somewhere onto the pavement, leaving only a blushing, staring, smiling little lizard behind without the power to form a proper sentence. "What was it you wanted to speak about, Spike?" Her voice was like velvet on a... Uh... Okay, so there were no analogies to describe how beautiful her voice was.

Averting his eyes in a last ditch effort to bring some sort of control to his brain, the dragon managed to squeeze out the beginning of a sentence. "I.. It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" The mare looked up at the cloudless sky, allowing the most beautiful smile in Equestria to be born upon her lips. "Yes, I supp-"
"Not as beautiful as you!" Now, two things had occurred there. One: Spike had ignored the concept of timing, and two: Spike had ignored the concept of volume. Instead of making a sweet, smooth comment about her beauty, he had interrupted her agreement by yelling out a compliment like a moron.

But, his angel wasn't prone to sin, and she rewarded his stupidity with a giggle and a smile. "Why thank you, Spikey-Wikey." Perfection wasn't good enough for her, she deserved something more. But, being the brainless husk of a creature that being around her made him, there would be no chance in tartarus that he'd come up with a better word. Maybe, it was just a thought, but he could've been trying to actually say what he wanted to say instead of figuring out a stage beyond perfection. That seemed logical. "Now, what is it that you wanted to tell me?"

It was do or die, now or never, go or stop, sink or swi- He was doing it again. Clenching his claws into fists, taking a deep breath, and giving her his most debonair, suave smile, Spike the dragon bit the bullet, took the plunge, made a leap of faith, hit the ground ru- Oh, Celestia smite him down. "Rarity, I know we've known each other for a long time, and there's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time." That's what it was in his head, anyway, the real thing was without spaces or punctuation, amalgamating into one super word that challenged all concepts of literacy.

There was a change in the mare's demeanour, and it wasn't especially positive. A smile remained on her beautiful, beautiful face, but there was something in her eyes, maybe it was panic, maybe it was nerves, but there was definitely a reaction. However, Spike was in far too deep to just give up, so he continued. "And, I guess you remember what I said, or what I tried to say last year when we were falling, but I-" Oh, buck it. He was getting nowhere fast, and if he was sixteen years old, he had to start acting like it. "Rarity, would you go out with me? Not out as in outside, because we're already outside, but on a real 'date' date?" He almost said please. He honest to Celestia almost said please, like a child begging for a toy.

There was a pause, a pause that allowed Spike's heart to perform an entire acrobatics routine, leaping from his chest to his throat, then sinking back into his stomach for the big finale. A frown replaced the gorgeous smile that Rarity had held, and soon she spoke, a certain sadness in her voice that Spike had never heard, or wanted to hear. "Oh, Spikey... I don't know what to say." The simple answer seemed to be 'say yes', but that was beyond his ability as a lifeless stump staring at the mare who held his heart in her hooves. Every word was just another tight squeeze. "I'm flattered, really, but we're just so different!"

This is what it felt like to die, he knew it. She was going to refuse him, she was going to avoid him, this was the end of their friendship, and he could just watch it crumble. Tears stung at his eyes, but he couldn't tell if they were falling or not. He felt numb, like he was just watching all of this happen from a distant planet in a different universe, and he was an observer to the greatest tragedy he had ever known. "I mean, I'm so much older than you, and you're only just starting life- I mean, what I'm trying to say, Spike, is that..." Suddenly, her expression changed, and so did Spike's. A smile grew across her face, and she reached a hoof out to gently touch his cheek. The dragon melted against her, all feelings of sadness falling away as he became lost in the sapphire waters of her eyes. "Not yet, Spikey... Maybe some day."

His heart did a repeat performance, this time in reverse. It was really quite impressive, if anyone could see it. There was a chance, she wasn't refusing him. A smile spread across his maw, threatening to break the very borders of his face. "O-Okay, Rarity." He sounded like a lovestruck schoolboy, and that was pretty much what he was, no matter how mature he felt. She gently kissed his cheek, causing Spike's heart to pull out its ace performance, leaving the dragon a blushing, silly looking creature. "You're very sweet, Spikey-Wikey." Her voice was like silk being slowly moved through a pool filled with cream and rose petals. A strange image, but it made sense at the time. He would-

Spike was knocked out of his memories by a loud crunch emanating from the cave, followed by a growl from one of the dragons. "Are you really that dense, Kespix? We're trying to lure it back to the cave, not alert that pony town!" That voice belonged to the green one, whatever his name was. They didn't always use names, unless completely necessary. Whatever reason they had, it was never a pleasant thing to not be able to match a face to a name, or visa versa.

With nothing else to do, Spike turned the page, and was greeted with another photograph. With the threat of death coming ever closer with each morsel the dragons took, the guardian retreated into his memories once again, at least he could see her again. If only one last time.

Another picture that time had not been kind to, it was almost impossible to make out the ponies it was of. Well, it was especially impossible to identify a particular pony. That pony was a dark coloured pegasus stallion with a sky blue and white mane that was styled into some sort of mohawk, and there were several scratches over his face. The picture was a depiction of Spike's six dearest friends, and their significant others. It was Twilight's twenty-seventh birthday party, if he remembered correctly, and they were all at a picnic in the park. Spike wasn't in this photo, though. No, he was the one behind the camera. A recurring theme throughout his life.

Rarity rubbed at her eyes, but not because of the flash. Given, that's what she was trying to make it seem like she was doing, but her real purpose was to try and look cute, and Thunderlane bought it, hook, line, and sinker. The two may have shared their happy moment, a kiss exchanged between the two, much to the other members of the group's joy. But, there was one observer who found it be more than a bit unpleasant, and that was the bitter bag of scales behind the camera.

Since that day where he thought he had a chance, Spike had seen several suitors come and go from Rarity's side, and Thunderlane would be no different. He was just another shallow, wannabe nice guy, and he would eventually screw up like the others did. It had been two years, and his chance was almost there.

The issue had been that Spike wasn't old enough for her, but now he was eighteen, he was an adult. Age no longer mattered, and all it would take was for the breakup to come. It was rather harsh of him to will that upon the mare, seeing as she seemed so infatuated with the newest boy-toy, but it would be worth it in the end. Nopony would ever make her as happy as Spike would. He just knew it.

"I think I blinked! Did I blink? It felt like when that photo went off I was just all 'my eyes are tired, I should blink', and I think I blinked! Spike, do you think I blinked?" Pinkie Pie hadn't blinked, but there was no way to be certain. Pokey seemed to find his marefriend's frantic jabberings to be charming, and that was nice. Being the only single one in his group, the dragon had come to loathe things that were 'nice' in that sense. "Maybe take just one more? Please, Spike? Please please please please?" He simply rolled his eyes and got back into his position behind the camera; the ponies arranged themselves without another word.

Twelve ponies, six couples, six happy couples. Every smile on every face was genuine, and none of them thought it would end. They were right. With the flash of the camera, time seemed to lose all meaning.

Once again, Spike backed away from the camera, looking beyond the device to the ponies he was photographing. Six couples, none had changed, and all were still happy; some were even more so. It was Fluttershy's wedding reception, and Rarity had been with Thunderlane for over a year.

After having their photo taken, the group had dispersed, some of the girls congratulating Fluttershy, telling her how beautiful she looked, and a group of stallions had already surrounded Big Mac, slapping him on the back and muttering loving insults into their friend's ear. Spike joined neither group, and just cleaned his camera lens. It was the only company he needed, really, and it was all the company he was going to get.

The dragon was dressed in a tuxedo, no surprises there, but he had abandoned his old one quite some time ago. In recent years, Spike had grown. It wasn't a massive growth spurt like he had hoped for, but it was enough to be noticeable. The distance he had to look up, and the distance ponies had to look down, had reduced considerably, though, and his jaw had started to finally take a shape that wouldn't be called 'chubby' or 'cute'. Just another reason why he and Rarity would eventually make it. All he had to do was wait.

Speaking of the mare, she was approaching the dragon. Spike attempted to downplay how happy he was to see her, but the goofy grin he had commonly adorned as a baby dragon carried over quite nicely, no matter how big he got. Rarity looked ravishing as ever, dressed elegantly in her bridesmaid attire. Her mane was even styled up just for the occasion.
"How did the picture look, Spikey? I do hope I didn't blink." Her voice, as smooth as ever, had the slightest crack to it, a side effect of a close friend getting married, he supposed.
"You looked beautiful, Rarity. Not a single flaw." The mare batted a hoof at him, giggling a little bit.
"Always such a charmer, Spikey-Wikey." He wanted to say more, he wanted desperately to ask her about every little aspect of her life, just to hear her voice, but it wasn't meant to be, and Thunderlane waved her over. "Oh, I must be off. I suppose I shall see you later, Spike." And with that, she was gone. His love had once again left his side, and gone into the arms of another.

As she walked away, seemingly becoming more and more distant, the dragon couldn't help but feel that there was still something there, a chance at happiness with the mare of his dreams. No matter how much time passed, his heart only beat for her, and it didn't seem like that was going to change.

Fluttershy and her father were scheduled to do their dance, and the music changed to suit the occasion. It was soft music, performed by none other than Fluttershy's own bird choir. Even in his sadness, it brought a smile to Spike's face to see the timid mare he knew taking that last step into happiness. It was a moment worth capturing, and so he did. Stepping behind the camera once more, Spike lined up his shot, and the flash went off.

Three years. Thunderlane and Rarity had been together for three years, and, in Pinkie Pie's true style, this had to be celebrated with a party. There were decorations everywhere, champagne to spare, and the music could be described as 'classy', if not 'fancy'. It was a strangely elegant affair, which was unlike Pinkie's true style. That was the first warning bell that went off in Spike's head.

The second warning came in the form of Pinkie Pie's behaviour. Unlike her usually over the top self, she was far more reserved than usual, speaking in whispers and giggling quietly to herself about some joke that no one else had heard. It could lead to no good, really. The dragon still remembered the pink mare's adoration for pranks, and it seemed that this would be a prime opportunity for one. In any case, Spike was there, camera ready, supporting whatever happened.

As much as the dragon didn't want to celebrate such an occasion, he knew he had to be there for Rarity, he had to be her friend. If he was going to be her perfect match, then he would have to be there for the good times and the bad ones. He would have to be there for her no matter what, and that's what he would show her when it was his chance. A smile crept onto his lips just thinking of it.

"Yes! Oh, Celestia, yes!" He could never mistake Rarity's voice, and his head immediately snapped to where she was. No. Oh, Celestia, no. It all made sense, and it hurt terribly. Pinkie Pie hadn't planned this party, Thunderlane did. There were no balloons, no colourful streamers everywhere, it was far too clean and tidy for the party pony's taste. The reason she was giggling, the reason she was so reserved, is because she was keeping a Pinkie Promise. She was keeping the night's events a secret. Thunderlane was crouched in front of Rarity, a small, ornate box clutched in his hoof. The box was was open, and inside was a ring; a ring with a diamond that shone as bright as Rarity herself did. The mare had her hooves over her mouth, tears streaming from her face, and she was smiling wider than Spike had ever seen.

While the party erupted into cheers, and the new engaged couple shared a kiss, one attendee was silent, cleaning the lens of his camera for the umpteenth time, despite the fact it was crystal clear. Unsurprisingly, Thunderlane called out to Spike, asking for a photo of the happy occasion. The dragon, of course, complied, a smile painted across his muzzle. To the party, he must've seemed extremely happy, it wasn't often you saw a male friend crying with joy at a friend's engagement. The camera flashed as they kissed again, leaving Spike with just one bitter epiphany. He was never going to get his chance, and his heart tore in two.

As time went on, the camera that once filled album after album began to gather dust on the edge of a shelf in the library, and its owner did the same. Twilight had moved out when she married Comet Tail, leaving Spike as the only librarian in Ponyville. Nopony wanted books, and nopony wanted the dragon, so it all fit perfectly, really. No, Spike hadn't had the most enjoyable few months since his love had gotten engaged.

At first, he tried to hate her. She fed him lie upon lie, made him think that maybe he had a chance, and then broke his heart like a twig under a carriage wheel. But, no matter how much he thought those thoughts, how much he wanted to blame someone else, he couldn't. She was blameless in this, as she was in most things. She was a perfect angel, and, though he lost her, he still loved her.

So, the dragon had taken to a new approach of avoiding the pain he suffered every time his eyes rested on the most beautiful jewel he could never obtain: evasion. Since the engagement, Spike had slowly receded from his friends, making excuses to not go on outings, faking illness, and inventing a heavy workload that could never even begin to exist. Eventually, they had just stopped inviting him, getting some sort of hint that he wanted to be alone.

Twilight still visited fairly often, and Spike would put on quite the show. He would smile, ask about life, make up stories about how good he was going, and then, after a few hours, she would leave once again, convinced that her assistant was doing just fine. But he wasn't doing just fine, and the worst was yet to come. As much as the dragon wanted to ignore it, and as much as he wished it wasn't coming, Rarity's wedding was only a few hours away, and there was no way Spike was going.

Despite the strained nature of their relationship following his avoidance of interaction entirely, Rarity had been rather insistent that Spike still attend 'the happiest day of her life'. Spike considered it the lowest point of his. As the hours bled into minutes, and the moment came closer and closer, it all came crashing down on him.

This was it. There was nothing beyond this point that would ever make him happy again. Years of patience, years of dreaming, and it was all going to end with two 'I do's.

The ceremony was going to start in less than half an hour; he knew this from Twilight hammering on his door, which remained locked. She deserved to enjoy her night, a mopey dragon wasn't going to make things better. Comet was with her, he'd take care of her; he'd make it much easier in the end.

The decision hadn't been hard; it was all logical, you see. Every moment he was around, his friends' quality of life depleted, and with foals around the corner, they didn't need the negative influence.

The knife had to be the sharpest he had. It had to be quick, deadly, and efficient. He really needed to put a tarp down or something, he wouldn't want to ruin the library floor on his way out.

They still had fun, right? Twilight was always telling him about all the great times he had missed, and the laughs they shared during their gatherings. That wouldn't change without him; in fact, it would just save Twilight the trouble of repeating it over and over again. An unnecessary burden that she wouldn't need to suffer anymore.

The books were organised well enough; Twilight wouldn't think he spent his last moments slacking, no, he was a good assistant. Always was. That's how she'd remember him, right? A good assistant who just made a mistake?

Rarity didn't need him ruining her big day, no, that would be selfish of him. Dragons were known for being selfish, greedy creatures, and he didn't need to perpetuate that stereotype anymore than he already did. She must've looked so beautiful in her wedding gown. She would've designed it herself, of course, and it would've been her finest work to date. A shame that Spike would never see it, but it was probably for the best. He didn't need to heartache.

A note. Yes, a note was needed. What would it say? 'Dear Twilight, I'm sorry.' But what if somepony else found it first? What if Twilight didn't get the message? Would he start it with 'To whom it may concern', or did that seem too formal? Maybe he should've just written something general. But one thing was certain, it couldn't mention Rarity, no, it couldn't. He wouldn't want her to blame herself, especially on her big day.

As he sat there on the bed, staring at a hastily scribbled suicide note, and a gleaming silver knife clutched firmly in his trembling claw, Spike the dragon took a moment to think over his life. Raised by royalty, taught to serve, and abandoned. Nopony would be writing a story about the life of Spike the dragon.

Twilight would take it the hardest, of course. She was the last one who saw him, and she was knocking at his door right before it happened. Comet would help her get through it, though. Him and all of the others. Pinkie Pie would try to cheer everypony up after it was over; that was her job, after all, and she was damn good at it. Rainbow Dash wouldn't care all that much, he'd be surprised if she remembered him after a month. Applejack would say something consoling to Twilight, but deep inside, she'd probably resent him, think he was a coward. Maybe he was a coward, it wouldn't be the first time he ran away from his problems. Fluttershy, the dear, soft soul, she'd be devastated, not because it was Spike specifically, but because she was tenderhearted like that. Hopefully she'd realise there was nothing she could've done. Rarity... Rarity would be disappointed, to say the least, but in the end she'd get over it. She wouldn't miss the drawn out looks he'd given her, she wouldn't miss the constant pestering at her boutique, begging to assist her when she was more than capable of doing it herself, and she certainly wouldn't miss the sulking sack of shit he'd become.

Somewhere, in the centre of the town, a beautiful mare was marrying the stallion of her dreams. She was surrounded on all sides by friends, family, and well-wishers, and everything looked perfect. As the couple drew closer for their first kiss as husband and wife, the crowd erupted into cheering. Groomscolts wolf-whistled at their friend, bridesmaids burst into tears of joy, and it all seemed to be out of a storybook.

Somewhere, in the top floor of a library, a sullen dragon was going to end his life. He was alone, save for countless works of literature, all of which had been organised, categorised, and painstakingly dusted by him over the course of his day. As he lowered the knife to his vein, he crumbled into a sobbing mess. The knife clanked onto the wooden floor, unused and worthless, and Spike the dragon found that his escape route had led nowhere.

He was awoken the next day by a incessant rapping at his door, someone obviously couldn't wait until the dragon starved to death. The sulking drake managed to drag himself down the stairs and answer the call, and what he found was neither surprising or joyous. Twilight Sparkle stood before him, tears in her eyes, and before he could process it, her hooves were already around him.

"You wouldn't answer, and I thought something happened to you!" The unicorn managed to choke out through her sobs. Spike simply remained silent, running a claw slowly through his oldest friend's mane as she voiced her concerns. It was all just white noise to him by now; another sound in the background that he had to filter through. Rarity was gone, and he had let her go without even the slightest resistance.

His eyes locked onto something, something that was left on his step. Twilight continued to talk, but no words made it to Spike's mind, because it was blank. On the front step of his library was a golden pendant, containing a beautiful fire ruby. It was strangely familiar, really, like he had known it for years, but for the sake of him, he couldn't remember where. Maybe it was just the stress of the past few weeks, or his willingness to forget, or, maybe, he just didn't want to recognise the significance of the gesture.

After the lavender mare had released him from her worried grip, Spike stooped down, scooped up the necklace, and let it dangle limp from his claw, his other hand occupied with the paper that was beneath the jewel.

No hard feelings, Spikey-Wikey. We really must talk more often, I fear we're losing touch! -Much love, Rarity.

It was signed in her usual flourish, and he couldn't help but notice it smelled like her. She must've left it right before she left, otherwise Twilight would've noticed before she gave up knocking the night before. Rarity noticed that he wasn't there. Rarity had thought about him. The sun caught the ruby, and a gleam directly in his eye snapped the dragon out of his daze.

"Spike, what is it?" What was once in the background came speeding towards the foreground, and his friend's voice became far more prominent.
"It's nothing," he replied, wiping sleep and dried tears from the corners of his eyes, "I just wish I'd felt better last night. Guess I missed something really special." Spike smiled down at the ruby in his claw, and it smiled right back. "I don't think I'll let that happen again." She didn't just give him some random gem she had lying around, she didn't just give him some lifeless piece of jewellery, she gave him back the first sign of his love that he ever gave her, and he couldn't let himself think that was just coincidence. He still had his chance; he just had to wait.

"Hey, guys, check this out!" The rough, grating voice of another dragon knocked Spike out of yet another memory-induced daze. Panic flooded into the ancient guardian as he quickly inspected the state of his cover; had he been discovered already? After a few seconds of life continuing, Spike allowed himself to banish that fear along with the rest. They must've found something else. "It's some sort of old book." With the mention of old books, he allowed himself to return to his. He had turned several pages during his reminiscence, and all that was left to do was turn the page once more.

The picture had fared better than the others thus far, probably due to lack of visitation. Unlike the others, this picture wasn't heartbreaking, or heartwarming, it was just a picture of a very interesting time of Spike's life. Once again, it was a group photograph, with all of the mares he loved so dearly. With them were their significant others, all married at this stage, and a few, namely Fluttershy, Applejack and Rarity, had little ones with them. A little colt rested safely on Big Mac's broad shoulders, a filly stood between her parents, an oversized stetson engulfing her head, and a newborn filly was being held by Thunderlane, who had the biggest grin on his face that Spike had ever seen.

As the flash wore off, and the group began to murmur to each other, gradually building towards conversation and laughter, Spike took the time to examine his handiwork. Another one for the album, of course. Rarity, as usual, was the first to rush to the dragon to make sure she had looked beautiful as always, and he welcomed it greatly.

It had been four years since Spike had been given his life back, and he wasn't wasting a single moment of it. The group had welcomed him back with open hooves, and it wasn't long before he became the photographer again. A shelf in the library had been cleared specifically for the drake's growing collections of albums, and the sitting room was always kept in a constant state of cleanliness for when he entertained, which was surprisingly frequently.

Twilight maintained her weekly visits, with more enthusiasm than ever from both sides of the conversation, and Spike no longer had to lie. It was amazing the things he had to talk about when he actually was out doing stuff. Applejack brought Ginger Gold to the library once and a while to exchange one book for another. The filly loved reading all about monsters and critters; she kept mentioning cultivating them on the farm when it was all hers. Goodness knows where she got it from. Rainbow Dash, even as she grew older, had to be on top of every single new Daring Do adventure that came to Spike's domain. The moment they started the new series, it was almost as though the Wonderbolt couldn't stay away. Pinkie Pie still borrowed the library occasionally to host some wild party, but she wasn't one for reading or having a nice, quiet chat. It was still nice that she visited, he supposed. Finally, there was Rarity, who kept her word and talked to Spike far more often than before.

It had started off with just a simple rendezvous, but, after all the fun they had, it became a tradition. Every week or so, she would come to the library, she would put little Onyx to sleep upstairs, and she and the librarian would sit with a nice cup of tea, or a hot cocoa sometimes in the winter, and they would talk, and talk, and talk. They would talk about her business, about his library, about the comings and goings of Ponyville, and the silliest things they had seen that week. They talked about events that were on their way, and events that had had their time long ago. They confided in each other, sharing secrets and troubles, and whenever they had a bad day, the other was there.

Spike had never stopped loving Rarity, in fact his feelings seemed to grow stronger with each meeting, but this new relationship was one he was content with. He was able to make her laugh, comfort her when she cried, and share the simplest of pleasures with her, what more could he ask for? Yet, there was one moment he dreaded in their meetings: a single instance of pure bitterness that he couldn't shake. When the tea cups were empty, and they had run out of steam for that particular conversation, she would say her goodbyes, she would collect her foal, and she would walk out of Spike's door, on her way back to Thunderlane. No matter how many times she laughed, or how many times she cried into his shoulder, there was a husband at home, and a life waiting for her.

The librarian would go back to his life as well, of course, he had his meeting with Twilight to prepare for, and countless albums to keep updated and organised, but it all seemed to be filler. No matter how much he occupied himself, or how much fun he convinced himself that he was having, he was still waiting for Rarity to return, put her foal to sleep, and make his life shine brighter than ever.

Speaking of shining, the ruby had a routine of its own. Spike didn't leave it out on display, no, that would give the wrong impression if anyone saw it. If Rarity, for instance, were to see it, then she might've thought that he was thinking too much of their relationship, and that would jeopardise the weekly meetings. So, to prevent this, while still keeping the ruby well cared for, Spike would take it out of its hiding place, namely his dresser drawer, every day and shine it. This happened during that golden hour between being awake and being asleep, and it always ensured that the dragon's last thoughts before dreaming were of his beautiful Rarity. It was still a sign, and four years of patience was merely another notch in his belt. He would have his chance, and it would all be worth it. His chance came no more than three weeks after that photograph was taken.

The tea set was all laid out, perfect down to the last detail. Every surface was dusted and polished to a gorgeous shine, and Spike allowed himself a self-satisfied grin. Rarity would arrive shortly, and then the meeting would begin. He already had his topics all planned out. Firstly, he would mention how close the Grand Galloping Gala was, and the excited banter between them would probably take up the first ten minutes of their meeting. Secondly, he would ask about her week, as social etiquette dictated, and she would tell him, which usually took around fifteen to twenty minutes of the meeting, assuming it didn't lead onto branching conversations. When he was next able to bring up a topic, he would bring up the news about Twilight's pregnancy, and, even though they were both there when she announced it, they would go on and on about it until their tea was either gone or cold. Hit it home with a few questions about her business and some general hearsay around the town, and Spike had prepared himself a wonderful afternoon with the mare.

His thoughts were interrupted, rather suddenly, by the guest in question opening and closing his door with equal parts anger and frustration; Onyx was not with her, and the usual routine of placing the foal upstairs was replaced with letting a saddlebag fall to the wooden floor with a loud clunk. All of the dragon's plans were immediately abandoned, and his new goal was set: he was going to fix this. He gestured towards the mare's usual seat, which she took in the same manner as previously stated, and after a huff or two, Spike spoke. "Okay, what happened?" Anger quickly turned to tears, and Spike was blur to her side, immediately locking the unicorn in a comforting embrace.

The details were a little hazy, but the basics still remained engraved in Spike's mind. Thunderlane had been in a mood of sorts, as being the parent of a newborn usually justified, and some misfired frustration turned into a full scale argument. They had argued before, and Spike was well learned in the records of these fights that mares rarely forgot, but this one was different. Names were thrown back and forth, past pains were brought back into the equation, and wild accusations were tossed in like live fireworks into a fire. This all built until eventually the result was one crying foal being cradled by a brooding stallion, and one mare storming out of their home fighting back tears.

"...and I just don't know what to do, Spike! I really don't know!" Even when her voice was hoarse from weeping, Rarity sounded beautiful. It was the wrong time to think about that, but it was the truth. As knelt there, holding the love of his life as she wept for the love of hers, Spike finally realised that it was his time. When he was sixteen, he thought it had been time to lay all of his cards out on the table, but he hadn't even made it past the first round of betting yet. Now, he sat at the high-rollers' table, and it was time to go all-in. He swallowed the rock that had formed in his throat, he licked his lips that felt dry as bone, and he spoke.
"Here's what you're going to do. You're going to go into my bathroom, and you're going to clean yourself up. You're then going to take all the time you need to calm down, I'll be here if you need me, and then you're going to go back there and fix things with your husband. If not for him, then for Onyx." He hated how much of a coward he was.

The mare nodded, smiled for the first time since she left her home, and followed instructions, leaving a dragon with a very wet shoulder staring into a particularly fascinating section of dictionaries. Surely, there was a word in one of them that described him; some sort of magical word that would sum it all up nicely. He looked around, and all he could see was the world he had chosen for himself. An isolated existence far away from his hopes and dreams, away from any sort of ambition. He couldn't count the nights he had stayed up wishing for a chance like the one he just had, and when he had it, he let it go. And for what, a pat on the back for doing the right thing? If he was so adept at solving relationship problems, then why couldn't he fix his? Namely the lack of a relationship. No, Spike was going to continue to exist alone, in a library, surrounded by the words of people smarter than he was.

That's when it hit him. He hadn't folded his hand, he had merely checked to see if she placed a bet. She hadn't; she had checked as well. Now, it was his move, and he had an ace up his sleeve. Quickly darting upstairs, fuelled entirely by years of pent up romance, Spike retrieved the fire ruby, some parchment, and a quill. He dipped the quill in ink, and then continued to pour his heart out onto the page. Everything he longed to say, everything he wished he had already said, every little speck of emotion he had, he put into as few words as possible. After checking that the mare was still safely hidden away in the bathroom, he slipped the ruby and the note into her saddlebag, and returned to his seat. He had gone all-in, and his hand was revealed.

The minutes in which Rarity was in the bathroom were some of the longest that Spike had ever experienced. He kept considering taking the note back, or stashing them both away somewhere not even he could find them. Why did he think it was a good idea, especially after all that Rarity had been through already that night? His heart was racing, his breath was quickening, his eyes were darting around the room, and he was considering the possibility that he was having a heart attack. It was then that the door opened, and the mare of the hour emerged. She looked much better, thankfully, and a smile was painted across her face.

"Thank you so much, Spikey-Wikey, that was just what I needed. You truly are the best friend a mare could ask for." She planted a kiss on his cheek. Usually, that would cause his heart to flutter and his mind to turn into some form of butter that had been left out in the sun for too long, but this time it just sunk his heart deeper into his gut. This was going to be the last time he had a meeting with Rarity, and likely the last time he would see her again. He would be lucky if he kept half of his friend circle once it got out. "I'm so sorry that I cut our meeting short, but you're right. I owe it to my foal to act like a mature mare, and I will not let my Onyx down. I suppose I'll see you next week?" Spike managed to force a smile and slow his breathing to speak,
"Y-Yeah, of course." His throat felt like sandpaper, and he feared that he might bite off his own tongue if it continued to spasm around in his mouth.
"Well, ta-ta for now, Spikey-Wikey."

And then she was gone. In a matter of seconds, she had picked up her saddlebag, and walked out the door, taking with her Spike's heart. What had he done? A crack echoed through the room, and the dragon's eyes immediately darted to the source. In his tension, he had ripped the armrest of his favourite chair clean off. With nothing left to do, he saw to cleaning the splinters off of the floor.

The golden hour was empty for him now. It was funny how little he thought about giving away the ruby before it was gone. The simplest act of just shining a jewel every night before sleeping could have the biggest impact, and he never realised. Now, he just sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall with such an intensity that he expected the fixture to start blushing at any moment. This intimacy was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

It was not uncommon for colts, specifically those bordering on their cutiemarks, to do what was usually called 'baiting the dragon', which involved knocking at his door at ungodly times of the night and trying to get a reaction out of him. Proved they were brave apparently, but Spike saw nothing brave in annoying the librarian. Still, he had his default response to give,
"We're not open! Come back tomorrow if you want books." The knocking persisted, however. Apparently they were really throwing the dragon some juicy bait. With a grumble, he began the trek down the stairs. "If it's you again, Sooty, I'm not going to be amused." The knocking replied in kind, louder and faster than ever. What were these colts being fed if they could knock that hard? Spike was starting to fear for his door-hinges.

After reaching the rapidly convulsing entrance, the reptile threw it open, scowling down at a pair of white legs. The knocker was taller than he expected. Taller, more beautiful, and crying her eyes out. Spike never wanted to make Rarity cry, but sometimes that was what happened when someone did something stupid. All that was left to do was accept the consequences of his actions.

Rarity took a step forward, and Spike took a step back. In her magical grasp was the note: the note that Spike had placed to accompany the ruby, and presumably what made her cry.
"I can expl-"
"How long?" Spike's words were cut off by hers. It was hard to tell whether she was sad or angry, and at that moment it was a rather crucial difference.
"Rarity, let me sp-"
"Tell me how long!" The note flew at him, tapping harmlessly at his snout before floating down to the floor, where her saddlebag quickly joined it, the ruby rolling out amongst a pile of fabric and sewing doodads. The difference between sadness and anger grew less and less important. He just wanted her to stop crying now; he really wanted her to just smile again.

Spike fell back onto the couch, holding his head in his claws, and answered the question.
"Since the day of your wedding." That wasn't right. "Since my sixteenth birthday." He was still lying. "Since the day I met you." He was getting warmer. "There has not been a moment since I saw that I haven't loved you, Rarity. You're the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last thing I think of before I sleep, and a great deal of what I think of in between." He was going too far, he knew he was going too far. But, as he had already lost all of his chips, so what was worth concealing? "When you got engaged, I couldn't eat or sleep. When you got married, I almost k-" It was his turn to break down, his turn to cry, and he was going to use it. "I'm sorry... Please, just let me be sorry." He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't lose her. After all his patience, after every long sleepless night, after all of the trials, how could it end like this?

The weeping dragon felt the couch shift slightly, followed soon by a soft pair of hooves wrapping around him. A voice as gentle as the stillest ocean spoke to him in a soothing whisper,
"I'm sorry, Spike... I really am." He felt her head rest on his shoulder, and warm tears rolled down his shoulder to his back. "You poor, sweet dragon..." He made her cry again. After everything, after thinking she hated him, he managed to make her cry again.

Something built up inside of him; it felt like anger, but it couldn't be. He didn't want to cry anymore, he didn't want anyone to cry.
"Rarity, listen to me." His voice felt sterner than usual, but it felt natural. "You didn't do a single thing wrong." She looked up at him, her big, beautiful blue eyes shining in the dim light of the candle resting on the table.
"Spike, I-" It was his turn to cut her off, and he was taking full advantage of it.
"I fell in love with you, not the other way around, and that means all the blame rests on me. You've been nothing but kind, patient, and generous by spending time with me, and I've repaid you poorly." He could feel more tears coming as he came to the realisation that this was likely the last conversation he was going to have with her, but he pushed onwards, forcing the words. "You're such an amazing mare, Rarity, and I never want you to cry because of me again." This was it. He was going to send her away, and that would be the end of his friendship with the mare he had loved for over a decade. "I won't bother you anym-" Once more, Spike was interrupted by Rarity, but this time it wasn't with words, but by a pair of lips. After a decade of longing, a decade of patience, a decade of pain, Spike shared his first kiss with the mare of his dreams.

As much as Spike wanted it to, the kiss couldn't last forever, and Rarity pulled away after a few seconds.
"I'm sorry, Spike, but I have to go." The mare tried to stand up, but a strong claw took old of her hoof and kept her in place, and her eyes met with those of a pleading dragon. "Spike, I have a husband..." He gently ran the back of his hand down her cheek, smiling at her. His tail, on the other hoof, was slowly retrieving something from the pile of fabric.
"Rarity," he began, deciding to make one last desperate grab at happiness, "all that exists right now is you and me." He slowly draped the pendant around her neck, and secured the clasp. There was a moment of silence, a tension in the air. Their eyes never parted; not until their lips met. The candle slowly burned out, and the events of that night of passion were forever cemented Spike's mind as the single greatest moments in his life.

"Looks like some sort of dragon."
"Thanks, genius, I hadn't thought of that."
"I was just sayin'..." The object of the dragon's interest had, evidently, been a photo album, and it seemed fitting that they knew their enemy as well as their enemy knew them: by image only.
"If this is the dragon you were worried about, Tzarif, I think we're overqualified." Laughter broke out amongst the feasting reptiles, interrupted only by Tzarif himself calling out.
"The colour's right, but he's bigger. Much bigger. How old is this damn thing?"
"The age isn't important, but this is relevant information." Spike hadn't heard that voice before, it was presumably the spiky one. Yes, his description wasn't entirely comprehensive, but as the particular cyan creature hadn't opened its mouth before this exact moment, other than to eat, there weren't any defining features to him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, look at it, the dragon's surrounded by ponies. This isn't just any dragon; it's defected." There were mutters, and obviously some theories were being formed, but Spike had other matters to deal with; namely the last page of his photo album. There was one more photograph, and he knew what it was before he turned the page.

The picture had all but faded away completely, but the image was engraved so deeply in Spike's mind that it appeared as though it was taken not a day before. Spike had taken it without permission, but the scene was far too lovely to ignore. Rarity laid asleep under the covers of the dragon's bed. Her mane was a mess, her makeup was practically gone, but she had never looked more beautiful.

Turning the flash off would probably have been a smarter move, but in Spike's haste to capture the moment, he hadn't really given it any consideration. Luckily, the mare remained asleep, and for that, Spike was grateful. It had been four months since that faithful night when their love affair had begun, and their weekly meetings had taken on an entirely new light.

Every week, usually around Tuesday, Rarity would leave Onyx with Auntie Sweetie Belle, who was very happy to spend so much time with her little niece, and then come to the library. Once she was inside, it was Spike's domain. Every romantic scenario that he had conjured up in his years of waiting came into play, and every week there was a different surprise awaiting her. One week it was a candlelit dinner, the next it was an exotic massage, which only a creature with claws could really do justice. How it ended was Rarity's decision, though. It varied from simple cuddling on the couch until she inevitably had to go home, to more passionate physical activities that the dragon preferred not to think of to avoid disappointment. Overall, Spike the dragon had nothing to complain about, he finally had the only thing he ever wanted...

...and yet...

There was always the niggling little guilt in the back of his head. After all, the beautiful mare asleep before him was another stallion's wife, and the mother to a foal that hung in the balance. But true love outweighed that, didn't it? This is how the world was supposed to work. Two ponies, or two creatures of varying species in this case, were meant for each other, and, through all adversary, they find each other and be together. Isn't that how the stories always went? There was usually another suitor to the fair lady, but he could never hold a candle to the hero, and he would step down. Rarity was his Princess, and he was her Knight in Shining Armour. They had to be together, right?

His thoughts were interrupted by his princess stirring from her eternal slumber, giving off one of the cutest yawns that Spike had ever heard. Her eyes slowly opened, finding his own immediately. A smile gently grew across her face as she stretched and yawned once more.
"Hello, Spikey-Wikey. Sorry, I must've fallen asleep. What time is it?"
"It's ten-thirty."
"Oh, my, Thunderlane must be missing me, it's getting quite late."
"No, ten-thirty in the morning, Rarity." Spike was smiling, but his mare certainly wasn't. Moving faster than he had ever seen her move, Rarity was out of the bed and in the bathroom. As their encounters usually altered her appearance in some way, Spike had seen to it that she had all of the cosmetics and mane care products she needed to give her the usual Rarity flare. Funnily enough, he didn't even need a list, he just knew.

"Don't worry too much about it, Rarity. I'm sure he hardly even noticed!" Spike said, leaning against the wall adjacent to the bathroom door. The reply was hardly what he expected.
"Didn't notice?! Are you honestly suggesting that my husband didn't notice that his wife and his foal weren't at home for the entire night?! Don't be stupid, Spike!" It took a moment for him to recover from the surprisingly venomous tone that he'd never heard Rarity use before. She really was worried. So, with this in mind, Spike remained silent, and sat on his bed, waiting.

Eventually, Rarity emerged from the bathroom, and was immediately down the stairs and out the door, without even a goodbye. This was the most extreme case yet, but it wasn't unheard of for his love to be in a rush after they met. The nature of their meetings called for a certain degree of urgency and discreetness, and part of Spike missed the days when she would linger, talking about some sort of irrelevant tidbit that she found to be juicy.

With a sigh, the dragon stood from his bed and began his preparations for his weekly meeting with Twilight. Once again, he had fallen into the cycle of lying to his oldest friend about what was happening in his life, and even though she seemed suspicious, she was buying it. After that, he also had to start planning what he was going to do for the next week's meeting; he had a long way to go if he was going to top his last performance. However, whatever plans he made, they were pointless.

The first warning came when she arrived earlier than usual. In their time together, the pair had become methodical with their approach; they never strayed from schedule. Initially, Spike had been excited by the surprise, maybe she had taken some initiative to show how she felt for him, but her expression spoke more than his fantasies ever could.
"Spike, we need to talk." Her voice was the second warning. It was uncommon for Rarity to ever be monotone, she was a very emotional pony. Also, the lack of his pet name was never a good sign; ever. When he sat on the couch, she instead opted to sit on the armchair, away from him. Another bad sign. "This is wrong, Spike. We both know it." It didn't feel wrong to him, nothing had ever felt so right. She was all he had, all he wanted to have, was it not the same to her? Even he knew it wasn't, but he wanted to think it anyway. "Thunderlane was worried sick, and Sweetie Belle has started to suspect something as well." It was coming. He knew it, she definitely knew it, and all he could do was wait as his heart shattered. "And, worst of all, this isn't fair to you." What? Was she really saying that? "You're such an amazing dragon, and it's terribly selfish of me to keep both you and Thunderlane for myself. You deserve so much more than this." He wanted to say something then; he wanted to beg for her to stay, he wanted to plead that she choose him, but he knew it was hopeless.
"I love you." It was the first thing he said, and it was probably the only thing he would say.
"I know, Spike, and I'm sorry." She kissed his forehead, and then she left. He couldn't remember if she was crying or not, but he definitely was. The fire ruby stared at him from its place on the coffee table; he really wished she had taken it with her.

"Spike, are you okay? You zoned out again." Twilight was concerned, not really a surprise. How was he going to lie to her this time? Did he go down to the seaside and find catch fish again? Or, perhaps, did he spend the afternoon watching the clouds and just enjoying himself in serenity? What brilliant deception would he conceive to hide his broken heart?
"I've been having an affair with Rarity, and it ended yesterday." He had become caught on some of the words, but he managed to choke them out before the tears came. "I had her, Twilight, and then she was gone." Disgust. That's what Spike was expecting. It was a natural reaction for a pony to have, really, when they found out that their oldest friend had been fooling around with one of her married best friends. But, Twilight had never been one for stereotypes, and a pair of hooves were around the dragon before he knew what was going on. She didn't ask anymore questions, she didn't need any answers, she simply held him and let him cry on her shoulder. Maybe she was just happy that Spike had finally stopped lying to her, maybe she was contemplating whether or not to strangle him. Spike would've been fine with either.

"Come back to us, Spike." He could tell by her voice that she was crying as well, was it disappointment that caused those tears?
"What do you mean?" He moved his head from her shoulder, giving his friend the attention she deserved. Twilight smiled, surprisingly, and continued.
"You're always so distant, Spike. It's time for you to come back to your family, you don't need to be alone." A few years before, Spike had been looking for an escape route from his loneliness, and Twilight had simply opened the front door that the dragon had neglected to try. After an enthusiastic acceptance, and a lengthy embrace, accompanied by tears, of course, the decision was made.

It started small; just Twilight's family. Spike began to get to know Comet a bit better, and the two eventually grew to be far better friends than the dragon had ever imagined. When Twilight fell pregnant with her first foal, Spike was the first to know, and eventually became known as Uncle Spike. Then, by the second foal's announcement, the dragon had been reintroduced into the circle of friends; not just a photographer, but a participant. He would tell foals stories of their adventures, or simply tall tales that he made up, and they'd all be enthralled by his every word. He'd attend every event he was invited to, and enjoy every second. But, there was still one issue with his life, though. Rarity avoided him, naturally, and Thunderlane was growing more and more suspicious. There was only one conclusion to this matter, and it came on Onyx's sixth birthday.

Spike hadn't been invited to the party, for reasons that he wasn't allowed to discuss, but no one really thought much of it; no one except for Thunderlane. From what he had heard, the stallion had been very curious as to why Spike hadn't been invited, to which Rarity simply responded that he was busy, and the prodding finally built until it became an issue they had to discuss in another room. Twilight's details had been vague, but voices were apparently raised, and whatever was said led to Thunderlane storming out of his home and towards the library. The next part Spike had full awareness of.

The pegasus broke down his door, which was unlocked, and barrelled straight towards the librarian. Spike had initially been caught off guard and, as a result, was knocked against a bookshelf hard enough to dislodge the majority of its contents. The dragon hardly had time to recover before a hoof struck him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. With his opponent stunned, the angry stallion then took the chance to land a few punches to Spike's jaw. The most significant injury that occurred from this was part of Spike's cheek being impaled on one of his razor sharp teeth, causing his mouth to fill with blood, which was quickly emptied by another punch to his jaw. The beating continued until finally Thunderlane withdrew, leaving a battered, bleeding, broken dragon before him.

There was a metaphor there somewhere about the Prince slaying a dragon for the Princess, but Spike was in far too much pain to think of it. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear the stallion breathing heavily, presumably venting his anger. His voice was as deep as it was venomous.
"Stay the hell away from my family, dragon. Don't let me ever see you near any of them." It was a fair enough request, given the situation, but Spike was not in a reasonable mood. Rarity had broken his heart almost six years ago, and even after all of that pain, Thunderlane had to come rub it in. No, he wouldn't let it stand. Slowly pushing himself up, Spike spoke through his bloody teeth,
"I loved her first." The stallion was in the process of leaving, but that sentence turned him around.
"What?" Spike spat out blood onto his floor, knowing full well that he would have to clean it later, and smiled.
"I said... I loved her first, and chances are she felt something for me long before she met you. Hell, if I was a pony, I bet you would never have been in the picture." The dragon was on his feet now. On all fours, Thunderlane had been larger, but in the bipedal domain, Spike towered over him. "How does that feel?" The stallion was twitching in anger, and Spike knew what was coming next. If he had been in the right mind, he would never have even thought of doing what he was about to do, but all was fair in love and war, and he was pissed. Thunderlane dashed at him, letting out an angry cry, and Spike opened his jaws, bathing the stallion in flames. The second he saw the flames make contact, the librarian regretted it. Luckily, he hadn't hit the pegasus directly, he had been too quick, but Thunderlane's mane was set ablaze, and the stallion was letting out another cry entirely. He sprinted from the library, screaming and rolling on the ground, trying desperately to put out the flames, and Spike just stood there, surrounded by books and a few bloodstains. He had won the fight, but he had lost himself.

Thunderlane was admitted to the hospital with third degree burns, but he was alive. Twilight tried to make Spike himself go to be checked out, but there was no way in hell that he would appear in the same hospital as his burn victim. No, the dragon just sat in his armchair, staring at a scorch mark on the ground, and wishing he was dead. Eventually, Twilight had to go, and he was left alone. Spike slept in the armchair that night, he wouldn't move if he could help it. Maybe he'd get lucky and just starve to death.

After a few weeks of moping, Twilight convinced him to leave the house, and slowly his transition back into normality began. The cat was out of the bag, though, and it took quite some time before his friends, especially Applejack, warmed back up to him. In the end, they chalked it down to ponies doing stupid things when they're in love, and tried to move past it. But things were certainly different. When planning events, it became a choice. If Spike was invited, Rarity and Thunderlane could not attend, and visa versa. Spike usually volunteered to miss out, and they were usually grateful for not having to choose. It wasn't an ideal existence, but it was an existence nonetheless. He would still tell stories to the fillies and colts that came to visit him at the library, and he would still take his share of photographs. But, one visit made his day more than anything else, and it came on a windy Autumn afternoon.

The door to the library opened with a trademark ring. After having the door repaired, Spike had opted to install a bell. It wasn't often he got visitors, so he damn well didn't want to miss it. The dragon was in the kitchen at the time, retrieving a batch of freshly baked cookies, but the second that ring hit his ear, he was off, tray in hand.
"Hello, welcome to the li-" The tray hit the ground with a clang, and a few cookies scattered here and there. A colt's laughter filled the silence, and the colt in question pointed to the tray.
"Why did you do that, Mr. Dragon? Now the cookies are all over the place!" A snow white coat, pegasus wings, and a lavender mane were notable qualities of the child, but none were more obvious than his sapphire blue eyes. Then again, Spike wasn't really paying attention to the colt, but to the mother. She had begun to age a bit, a small wrinkle here and there, but she was still radiant as the day he met her.
"Hello, Spike."
"Hello, Rarity." He hadn't spoken to her in five years.

Once the colt had set to playing with the library's collection of miscellaneous toys, the two old friends sat down in their old places, and had a long overdue conversation. It started off with small talk, the weather, business, this and that, and slowly began to evolve into a discussion about their friends and the events that each one had missed for the sake of the other. It wasn't much, but it was progress. It was enough of a development that Spike asked her if she'd like to meet again, and with a smile, she replied,
"I'd like that."

Their meetings resumed as they were before all of the unpleasantness. Snow would play, they'd have a nice cup of tea, and they'd talk. They even got to the point where they could talk about their past without issue. Spike even went so far as to inquire about Thunderlane's health; apparently there had been some scarring, but overall he made a full recovery. The more time he spent with her, the more Spike realised that his feelings hadn't changed. Time truly couldn't wear his love for the mare, and he had no intention to let it. He had learned his lesson about going too far, and he wasn't going to lose contact with her again. At one point she apologised profusely for how things went down, about how she hurt him, but he would never let her blame herself. Even if she couldn't see it, he wouldn't have traded that time for the world. For four short months, he held her, he kissed her, and he was able to show her how he felt about her.

Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and eventually all good things had to come to an end. No one knew about their meetings, no one except for Snow, Spike and Rarity. Even after decades, it was Ponyville's best kept secret. Following Fluttershy's funeral, Spike had let Rarity cry into his shoulder once more. When Rainbow Dash took that last flight, Spike had assured Rarity that it was all going to be okay. After Pinkie Pie's funeral, the two spent hours remembering her best moments and laughing until they cried. Everything was so easy with each other, like there was no problem too big for them to conquer. But, some things were too big even for a dragon to handle.

Snow arrived at Spike's door instead of his mother one day, carrying a note. The note was, of course, written by Rarity, and the sight of her usual handwriting brought a warmth to Spike's heart. It told him that she was too tired to get out of bed that day, and that she apologised greatly. He would've killed to see the look on her face when Snow came back with the fire ruby and a note which read, No hard feelings, Miss Rarity. We really must talk more often, I fear we're losing touch! -Much love, Spike. Notes were then passed back and forth daily basis, and continued for weeks. It seemed that Snow was taking full time care of his mother, and that she saw her conversations with Spike as a high priority, that also caused the dragon to grin like some sort of schoolcolt passing notes in class.

Finally, after four weeks, three days, and four hours, Spike received a note telling him that his love had been moved to the hospital. As much as it tore him up inside, he couldn't visit her. Thunderlane would've been there for sure, and as much as he loved Rarity, he knew that she needed her husband more than she needed him. She would be out of hospital soon enough, anyway, and then they'd have one of their weekly meetings, just like they always did. Rarity was a fighter, she wasn't going down for at least another decade.

By the time Spike had reached the hospital, she was already gone. Snow was there to greet him, carrying the fire ruby and one last note. Once the dragon had read it, he collapsed onto his knees and wept. He had cried when Fluttershy died, he had sobbed when Rainbow Dash passed away, he had bawled when Pinkie Pie departed the world, but never had he wept like he did at that moment. He wanted to see her, but Thunderlane hadn't left her side; Spike may have been heartbroken, but he wasn't heartless. Thunderlane had loved her too, and he needed his time to mourn.

The funeral was short, but extravagant. There were flowers lining every inch of her grave, and every colour was coordinated to a finely styled tee. Thunderlane had specifically requested that Spike didn't attend, but Snow had overruled his father, insisting that it's what Rarity would've wanted. Throughout the service, he felt the stallion's eyes on him, glaring with pure hatred. He had every right to hate him; Spike would've hated whoever robbed him of a single moment with the most amazing mare in the world. The tombstone was dictated by the template, of course, and read, Here lies Rarity. The Element of Generosity. Wife, Mother, Friend, and Revolutionary Fashionista." Spike lingered at the grave long after everyone else had gone home. The fire ruby dangled from its gold chain, and the note flapped in the breeze. It was completely silent, yet he was still expecting to hear her say something, anything. He wanted to hear 'Spikey-Wikey' one more time, or to hear the most beautiful laugh in the world again. But, nothing came. His love was no more.

Tears left stains on the blank pages of the photo album; Spike had evidently tried to keep turning the page after there were no more photos left. A scraping sound caught his attention, and his eyes quickly darted to a claw that was grasping a cluster of jewels right by his head. The time had come, and he remembered exactly why he was there. The gems were devoured without the slightest thought, and Spike was partly visible.
"What the-" The voice, and the claw, belonged to the pudgy dragon, presumably called Kespix, and the dragon wasn't allowed to say anything else. Spike's humungous claw darted out, gripping the smaller reptile by the head, and slammed Kespix's cranium into the cave floor. A satisfying tremor shook Spike's arm, and a crack echoed through the empty space; he could also feel blood in his claw. One down.

Tzarif gave out a surprised cry, and darted from the cave. Once a runner, always a runner. The other dragons were far more courageous. Thinking they had a position advantage, they surrounded the hoard, ready to take on the threat. Through his single eye hole, Spike weighed his odds. They were out of claw's reach, but there was always the chance he could extend just a little bit further and take them by surprise. Five dragons surrounded him; one was dead on the ground, and Tzarif had fled. Five on one wasn't ideal, but it wasn't impossible. All it took was the right focus.

There was a thick tension in the air, and all of the dragons felt it. The five didn't want to step closer in fear of being grabbed, and Spike wasn't budging. It was a stalemate, and it just took one move to upset the balance. But, Spike was used to waiting, and patience was growing to be one of his better traits. His eye focused in on the largest of the dragons. He was a musclebound bastard, and looked as though he knew what to do with it. Although, his head was unusually small, and his zoned out expression served to confirm Spike's suspicion. He was a powerhouse without a brain, and he was staring directly at the green dragon, hoping for some sort of order. He was getting restless, and it was just a matter of time before he messed up. The dragon began hopping from foot to foot, his eyes darting around the room, and his breathing becoming heavier, whenever his eyes reached the green dragon, he tried to mouth some sort of question, but it went unheard. One foot went too far in the hop, and he slid towards the hoard, this was when Spike struck.

Both claws emerged from the hoard, one knocking the dragon off of his feet, and the other pinning and dragging him towards his doom. The lean, quick looking dragon tried to move towards his companion, but was stopped by the green one. Ruthless; Spike wasn't sure if that was intimidating or admirable. The muscular dragon struggled, and proved his muscle wasn't just for show. He broke free of Spike's grip, only to be pinned by the other claw, like a mouse trying to escape from a cat. Unfortunately for him, he was in a position that he wouldn't recover from, and Spike's claw opened his throat as soon as it was possible. Two down.

Spike sincerely doubted he would be able to get the other four using the same method, so he considered his options. The green one was patient, as he was, but unlike Spike, he had those he found expendable that he could throw at the larger dragon until he was weak enough for the kill. Spike only had himself, and he wasn't willing to sacrifice that just yet, not if he could help it. Among the four, there was the green one, the spiky one, the quick looking one, and one more who looked like some sort of amalgamation between a puffer fish and an active volcano. There was little chance that he could surprise the green one, no, he was too clever for that, but the quick one was likely unnerved by losing his friend. That would be his target. He had to make his move, and the countdown began.

Ten.

Dear Spike,

Nine.

I know that it's been a rough journey with you and I,

Eight.

but I want you to know that I wouldn't have traded our time together for the world.

Seven.

Since you were that adorable little dragon who followed me around Ponyville, to the true drake you've become,

Six.

I've always felt drawn to you, and it seems you were the same. We're kindred, you and I, and it's taken me all this time to figure it out.

Five.

When you were sixteen, you gave me an opportunity that I wish I had taken.

Four.

I know, it's dreadfully selfish of me to think that, but I really do wonder sometimes how different it would've been if I'd have given you that chance.

Three.

Oh, here I go, rambling like the old mare I am. I'm leaving you this ruby so you can go out and do something great with it.

Two.

I don't think anypony has come close to making me as happy as you did, and that's me being terribly honest. You're special, Spikey-Wikey.

One.

Maybe in another life, I'd be special enough to have you. I love you too, Spike. I did then, and I do now. I'm sorry for not saying it at a better time.

Zero.

I probably won't see you before the end, but I just wanted you to know it. Live a life, Spike. Have a family. Find your perfect treasure, and guard it like the dragon you are. Just don't let them change my perfect little Spikey-Wikey.

Spike dashed out, much to the surprise of three of the four dragons. The quick looking dragon was apparently not as quick as the guardian thought, and he was crushed beneath his colossal weight in a matter of seconds. The pufferfish took a deep breath, the spiky one took a defensive position, and the green one just stood there, watching Spike without a hint of emotion. Thinking fast, Spike grabbed Kespix's corpse and slammed it into the spikey dragon. He was grateful he himself didn't touch him, because the pudgy dragon's body sunk against the spikes like a hot knife through butter. The pufferfish exhaled, spewing a vile smelling green liquid at Spike, but, luckily enough, there happened to be a fat, spiky meat shield handy, and the sharp dragon screamed as the liquid seared his flesh. The screams likely would've continued if he hadn't been crushed against the pufferfish, who was stuck between a wall and a razor sharp place. Four down.

Spike growled, turning towards the green dragon who had just been standing there, still as a rock. What was he planning? Was he truly that powerful that he didn't even seem concerned by the larger dragon's presence?
"You are Spike, correct?" The use of his name was surprising. It was strange, no one had said it in so long, it almost seemed like an entirely different language. A nod was the green dragon's only reply. "You've been here for how long?" Spike cleared his throat, keeping a close eye on the other dragon.
"I have been here for seven hundred and twenty-nine years." Once again, there was little reaction from the dragon, just a simple nod of acknowledgement.
"Impressive."
"What?"
"The way you dealt with the others. It was impressive." Spike wasn't entirely used to being called 'impressive', certainly not by dragons.
"Aren't you going to fight me?"
"Why bother?"
"What?"
"The second I saw your claw, I knew we weren't going to win this fight. Why bother fighting fate?" The green dragon confused him, and irritated him. The defeatist attitude was certainly not matching the personality that Spike had so painstakingly constructed for the apparent leader of his killers. "Tzarif is most likely going to warn the roost, you may want to catch him." Suddenly, there was a real threat, and Spike wasn't going to let it get away. With nothing more to say to the green dragon, and no real reason to kill him, Spike was off.

Tzarif was nowhere to be seen, but Spike had a fairly good indication of what direction he was headed in. The peak of a distant mountain signalled the location of the roost, or at least that's what Celestia had told him when he first started guarding Ponyville. That particular mountain was speeding closer and closer to Spike, and his destiny was finally going to come true. If he couldn't do anything else, he would at least try to talk to them. Maybe, even after everything that happened, he could broker a truce between the dragons and Ponyville. Maybe he could save everyone. The mountain was suddenly underneath him, and the roost came into view. What he saw both stunned and scared him.

Empty.

The roost was empty. Not a dragon in sight. All there was were empty nests, still surrounded by various hoards and communal gem piles, but no living creatures were there. Spike slowly made his descent, wary of a trap, but there was none. Tzarif had warned the roost, and they had fled from the monstrous dragon that had come to destroy them all. He was the creature that mothers told their hatchlings to fear, the monster under their bed.

Much Much love, Rarity~

When he arrived back at his cave, the green dragon, and the corpses, were gone. Spike inspected his pitifully sized hoard and found that all of his albums, journals, and the fire ruby were accounted for. He wasn't sure what to do next, honestly. His scales were covered with blood and dirt, his mind was swimming with a mixture of old memories and new traumas, and his body was exhausted to the point of passing out from hunger. He scooped a few gems into his titanic jaws and decided that he only had one course of action left. He picked up his quill, and the most recent journal, and began to write.

Zero days since the last dragon encounter.
Two hundred and five thousand, eight hundred and seventy-eight days since the last visit by Princess Celestia.

He stopped writing there, and he knew what he was going to do. A smile grew across his face, tears pooled in his eyes, and he tore a page out of his journal. He was done. He was finally done. After over seven centuries, he had done it. The roost was gone, and that meant he could go home. Really go home. Ponyville was safe, and he just needed to tell the Princess. Surely, that was it. Without a moment's hesitation, he began to write the words he had written thousands of times before, and it had never felt better.

Dear Princess Celestia,
It's been quite some time. I know we didn't part on the best of circumstances, and I've regretted it ever since that I disappointed the only friend I have left in this world. I know you don't approve of what I've done, but I have amazing news. The roost is empty! The dragons all fled! Ponyville is at risk no longer, and we can finally rest with sound minds.

He took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes before he began to write the next part.

I know this is a lot to ask, and I know it's a difficult thing, but I was wondering if maybe I could come out of hiding? It might come as a bit of a shock to Ponyville, but I really think it's possible that I can be part of the town again, even as a visiting member. I know you don't owe me anything, and I chose to do this on my own accord, but if you authorise and aid my reintroduction to the ponies of Ponyville, I would be eternally grateful. I'm asking you, no, begging you to give me this, Princess. All I want now that this is over is to be able to tell my friends' stories and visit their graves again. Surely you can see the purpose in that.

Once again, I beg your forgiveness for our past conflicts, and for my vile actions, and I pray that you look past it all, and see the idealistic dragon you saw hatch who just wants to be a part of something again.

I hope you consider it.

Your Loyal Guardian, Spike the Dragon.

With a single breath, the note was gone, and all he could do was await a reply. He didn't sleep that night, he just stared at the ruby as he moved it between his claws. He wondered what Rarity would've said if she saw him now. Did they change her little Spikey-Wikey? Or did his actions not define him? He gave a sigh and rested his head atop the jewel. He wouldn't mind if she hated him if he could just see her again.
"I love you, Rarity." He said to no one in particular. He felt the need to say it if he was going to remember what she said in the note, otherwise it didn't make as much sense.

I love you too, Spike. I did then, and I do now.

He closed his eyes, and he let the tears flow freely. Time was the great healer, apparently, but it seemed to have skipped him over entirely. Would he ever be reunited with her? If there was an afterlife, did ponies and dragons have different ones? Even if they did, he highly doubted he'd go where she was with all of the things he had done. A kinslayer, a traitor, a monster. Of course Celestia wouldn't let scum like him walk back into Ponyville. He was worse than what she sent him to protect the town against.

...and yet...

A distantly familiar tingle filled Spike's jaw, and with a belch, a scroll appeared before him. With the most anxious and delicate movements, he unravelled the tiny piece of parchment and began to read:
Spike, come to the clearing where we last met at sunset tomorrow.

Princess Celestia.

Spike barely had the time to process the information before another tingle overwhelmed him, and another scroll came.

I'm so sorry.

Princess Celestia.

Tears drenched the paper, but he wasn't sure why he was crying. Was it joy that he was going to see Ponyville again? Was it relief that she didn't refuse him? Was it just that he was overwhelmed by the fact that Celestia was basically forgiving him for everything? Whatever it was, Spike cried, and cried, and cried. He held the ruby close against his chest, rolled onto his back, and began to laugh as tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

It was done. He was finished.

He would need to find a lot of roses, he owed somepony a lot of them.

Spike the dragon fell asleep on his back, smiling the biggest smile he'd had in over half a millennium. Sunset couldn't come quick enough.

Author's Note:

1st October, 2013: 11:55pm: Well, here we are. I've been putting this off for far too long. If I'm being honest, I've been scared of writing this damn thing, as if anyone expects a certain level of quality from a fanfic based on My Little Pony. But, hey, maybe I'm just being stupid. I'm not feeling the best as I'm writing this, but maybe that's for the best. A little sadness doesn't hurt anyone, and it's usually how this thing goes. But, this isn't a personal diary, and no one in their right mind should care about the ramblings of a madman. So, continue on with your day, and make it a good one.

21st October, 2013: 11:47pm: I'm still not finished this thing. How bloody fantastic! To top it off, it's rather dull. How much fun is that?! Hooray!

24th October, 2013: 6:17pm: Hooray! I'm actually making some progress. Not much progress, mind you, and I'm using this to put off other, more important, things. But, oh well. It's getting there. Very slowly.

10th November, 2013: 8:09pm: Well, here we are again. I just moved, again, and I don't have internet currently. You know what that means? That means that I have no access to any of my usual procrastination methods. It also means that, while I'm bored as hell, I have time to work on this using my iPhone as an internet thingy. So... Yeah. I might actually get this done now. We'll see. I'm sure the note below me is going to disagree completely with my claims of success. Future me will decide, I suppose.

15th November, 2013: 6:13pm: Since my last note, I have made no progress. It seems that my prediction in the previous note was correct, and this note, which is positioned below the above note, disagrees with my previous claims of success. But, nevertheless, I will be attempting it again.

15th November, 2013: 7:22pm: Okay, random note, but seriously, stuff whoever wrote the music for "Time to Say Goodbye (Con te partirè)" because it's heartbreaking. I like sad music, but this crap is just devastating to all emotions.

15th November, 2013: 8:46pm: Ah, here we are again, it's always such a pleasure. Hello, previous notes! Great to see you again. So, progress report: we are currently standing at around 7,800 words, and the end is actually in sight. I know what you're thinking: "Really? It's almost over? This crap can finally end?" and you have every right to think that, you clever bugger, you. But, being the strange, strange person that I am, this will probably still take me another six months to do. Seriously, this has taken me around six months. This one damn chapter. So, I'm going to return to writing, and I hope that if this ever gets released you find it to be adequate. Note number... 7 over.

15th November, 2013: 9:17pm: For some reason I have a fascination with poker analogies right now. Not sure why, but I'm enjoying them immensely, and I'm making progress again.

15th November, 2013: 9:32pm: You know what's a good song? 'My Happiness' by Powderfinger. Love that song. It may have inspired the next part of the fic. Yes, I realise that you, as the reader, cannot tell what part of the fic I'm about to write, as these notes don't have certain paragraphing or numbering to tell you where I was when I wrote them. Still, it's a good song.

15th November, 2013: 9:42pm: Just wrote 'rapidly convulsing entrance' and started giggling. I need to grow up already. <=3
Worth it.

15th November, 2013: 10:13pm: I can't write romance. Period. I can make characters interact, sort of, but when it comes to writing romance, I have the prowess of an eight year old girl smashing a Barbie doll and a Ken doll together and making kissy sounds. I just wrote the kiss, and my Lord, it was difficult to write. I think I have effectively used every cliché possible in this one paragraph, and I'm not even done. Hells bells, this is going to take a while. Also: fun fact: At this point, this chapter is longer than the other three chapters combined.

15th November, 2013: 10:23pm: Woo! Implied sex scene! Give the man an Oscar, he's written another cliché! And, I think that's it for the night. I've written... 3,975 words, not counting these notes, tonight, and I think that's a fair enough chunk for one sitting. I'm tired, and I want to watch some Phoenix Nights before I go to bed. So... yeah. It was a pleasure writing with you, and I'll see you... Well, God knows when I'll write more of this, but you'll see this entire huge segment all at once, so I guess it all evens out in the end. Have a nice time period.

18th November, 2013: 5:14pm: Guess who's back? Back again? This guy's back. Tell your friends. Don't really tell them that you're reading My Little Pony fanfiction, they might think you're weird. The powerlevels must be hidden, people. Otherwise the terrorists win. In any case, here I am again, and I'm hoping to finish this chapter today, send it to my friend for a quick check, and then upload the bugger as quickly as humanly possible, because you've all been waiting long enough, and I don't want it on my mind anymore. So... Yeah. Let's get back to work. The current song is: "Romeo and Juliet" by Dire Straits. This is DJ TheUn4givensoul for FiMFiction Radio, signing in.

18th November, 2013: 7:18pm: Hello, everyone, we're back from our break and progress has resumed. The word count, at this stage, sits at a stable 11,481, and the weather is absolutely terrible. That song was "Breakeven" by The Script, and now it's fallin' to pieces. I'm DJ TheUn4givensoul for FiMFiction Radio, and here's Coldplay's "Fix You". Have a nice night.

18th November, 2013: 10:08pm: Well, that was another break brought to you by Quality Family Time brand entertainment. With that out of the way, the progress continues. The song we're currently enjoying is "Time to Say Goodbye (Con te partirè)" by the combination of Andrea Bocelli & Sarah Brightman. Sit back, relax, and have a nice day.

18th November, 2013: 10:38pm: Snow is a perfectly good (gay) name for Thunderlane and Rarity's son. Okay, so I'm lazy and can't be bothered thinking of a better name. Cut me some slack, this chapter is far too long.

18th November, 2013: 11:20pm: The flashback is finished. FINALLY FINISHED. Now I just have to do the final part of the present Spike section, and then I'm done. I hope the flashback is sad enough. I really need it to be sad enough. Oh, "Measure of a Man" by Elton John is playing. Makes me feel damn successful.

18th November, 2013: 11:51pm: I wrote something that actually made me feel something. Fic over. You can all go home, I'm done. Not really. Still writing. Also: try listening to the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor. I dare you. That crap is sad. Very sad.

19th November, 2013: 12:37am: YEAH! Everyone celebrate! I did it! It's done! This chapter is done! The fic itself isn't over yet, no, it still has one more chapter left. Yeah, I know it seems conclusive, but it isn't. I'm not done with this shit yet. I'll be done when I want it to be done. Which is the next chapter. So... Yeah. I'm going to send this off to my friend for his pre-reading criticism, and then I'll upload it ASAP. But, yeah. I'm done. So... WOO!

19th November, 2013: 10:20pm: Okay, so my friend has read it, and he liked it, so I'm going to let it be released to the people who have time to read it. If you have just finished reading it, I hope you liked it, and feel free to leave all comments, positive or negative, where you feel like it. I'll find them. Seriously, if you post a comment about the story on some random page in the internet, I'll find it. I'll track it down, and I will read it, and I will enjoy it. But, if you were feeling generous, you could leave them on this page to save me the trouble of hunting them down. Anyway, have a nice day, afternoon, or evening, and keep on truckin'.

Comments

[Fido]

Thank you.

[oaxaca]

Why do i have this strange feeling that celestia is going to betray spike?....

[Of No Importance]

3511420
No; thank you.

[Of No Importance]

3511585
Not sure. Why do you have that strange feeling? Is it because everything so far has lined up to screw Spike over, and this positive streak of events seem suspicious? Is it because the planets have alined in such a way that everything seems to be pointing towards some sort of cyclic prophecy? Or, maybe, it seems that Celestia's plans for Spike didn't involve the duty ever finishing, and she has to think quickly to remedy a situation she didn't plan for? Honestly, I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see, I guess.

[oaxaca]

3512254

Yes.
No... i suppose?
Yes, totally.

I mean, there is a "sad" tag for something, right?

[Of No Importance]

3512759
Could be, could be. Who knows? Maybe the sad part is over. Maybe things are finally going to come back to a nice little finish. In the end, it's a mystery, really. A mystery wrapped in a riddle, hidden within a Haiku that's written on a piece of paper inside a Rubix cube that's inside a puzzle box. Or maybe I'm just making it up as I go along. By the way, did you enjoy the chapter, socialdeviance? And have you been having a nice day?

[oaxaca]

3512777

As a matter of fact, i have. College is at a full swing thanks to my finals coming up, so its good to read such refreshing stories like yours to make time pass and relax.

What about your day? Also, having fun writing this story? Its not turning into a chore?

[Of No Importance]

3513258
Oh, no, it's rather enjoyable to say the least, hence my blog posting thing. I like writing. I always have, and I probably always will. The only thing that's a chore about it is just how long it is and how much I want to actually say in as few words as possible. Besides that, I'm very conscious about how similar my story is to others, and how the premise has been done time and time again. All of these things just end up draining me and end up making me want to delay writing more. But, then again, I read a few fics here and there, realise everyone sucks just like me, and I keep going. My day is quite good though. Just a lazy day where I should be doing other things, but I can't be bothered.

[oaxaca]

3513282

Ah yes, the eternal struggle. Not only you want to say what is in your head, you want your fantasy story to be as truthful as possible without making a novel with just the introduction. When i first started writing fanfiction 2k words seemed like a biography or something like that to me.

[WithRegardsTo]

Wow. This story....

Though... there's something I feel hasn't been addressed yet (maybe you did that on purpose?)... or I missed it. When the dragons were going through his hoard, and spike was doing all of his reminiscing, you said that the dragons said something about not wanting to alert the pony village.

What was the significance of that? I feel like you've set something up, but haven't fully addressed it yet. Is there something huge coming? Was ponyville never in danger, for the dragons weren't interested in it, or something?