The small dragon lay. A usual night, spent counting endless, precious gems. Alongside him, as usual, sat a certain white designer, accompanying him through his conquest and offering endless praise. The mountaintop lair sat above hillside rice paddies, workers milling about, a morning fog resting amongst the farmers. In his lair, lined with ornate trees and bamboo, with the warm glow of the lanterns, everything was peaceful. The village was safe under his rule, and he was contempt.
At that moment, a small, unnoticed ripple scattered through his world. Rarity shifted, looking spike in the eyes with an expression that the youngling could not yet place.
“You know, I’ve wanted to do this for a long time..” she trailed off, steadily approaching the incoherent dragon.
“Uh, Rarity, are you oka-“ He was silenced as she pressed her lips to his, before quickly drawing back, a pleased smile adorning her features.
And then the scene played out. Again.
And again.
And again.
Spike awoke with a start, horridly red faced and head spinning. It was almost dawn.
And again.
He stood up, quietly, silently, making his way down the stairs.
And again.
He swiftly exited, walking, to a certain carousel.
And again.
Approaching its entrance, almost instinctually, he found the spare key and unlocked the door, wandering inside.
And again.
He silently walked forward, finally approaching her door, opening it ever so slowly, revealing a sleeping Rarity inside.
And again.
He approached her silhouetted form, a single claw reaching out.
And he woke up. Again.
And he stood there, mouth agape, confused and startled as to how he had ended up here.
He quickly left, running off towards the wooden clubhouse he knew as sanctuary.
Something was wrong.