Just a couple of days ago, Thorax had been thinking how it seemed Spike had been finally accepting where he was in life and making the best of it. Now, however, Thorax was starting to realize he hadn’t been doing the same, not as much as he could. So now it was his turn.
But he was starting to see why Spike had been so slow to do it.
The problem was that Thorax didn’t even know where to start. All he knew was the same goal that had led him into Equestria in the first place; make friends with ponies and show to the other changelings it was not only possible, they could do it too and help bring peace between their peoples. And unlike Spike, who he knew had growing doubts it would come to pass ever since they fled the Crystal Empire in banishment, Thorax still was holding out that it could happen. More importantly, he was the only changeling in any sort of position to try.
It was just taking far longer than he would’ve hoped, and him getting banished and going into hiding certainly hadn’t helped. It could be that he’d grow old and die before any real progress was made, though he hoped to at least have paved the way for others to continue from where he would be leaving off. The point being, though, was that as admirable a goal as it was, it was very much a long term goal. So what other things could Thorax do with himself in the meantime? There must be other goals he wished to achieve in life he could now take the time to be working towards while he had the chance.
But as he reflected back on his life up to now, he realized he never really had any. Until the Canterlot invasion and Thorax became enthused with the idea of spreading friendship, he had always sort of just drifted through life, not really knowing where he should be or what he should be doing. If anything, he had always felt out of place back in the hive, like he didn’t belong. So to him back then, it hadn’t mattered. The only goals he really had were to try and minimize how many shouted at him in a given day. Therefore, he found it hard to devise life goals determining just what it was he wanted out of life when he had never stopped to consider it before.
At the very least though, one goal he knew he could work on now is figure out the situation with him and Trixie and where they were heading. The very idea of where it could go still seemed strange to Thorax, and he was still personally quite divided on where he stood upon it or if he even wanted it. He was somewhat shocked to find that the more emotional part of him seemed open for that sort of companionship, but the more logical part of him reminded him it didn’t make any sense to pursue it if real. Especially since he was a changeling and she a pony; how could that ever work?
And that raised the subject of whether or not he should let it continue if that were the case. The logical part of him screamed he shouldn’t even consider accepting it. If that really was where he and Trixie stood on each other, then he ought to end it before it went further, for both of their well-beings. It would only spare them both the hurt and suffering he feared it could only end in. Worse, even if he were to set aside the whole changeling-pony issue, he knew he was on the run from the law. Allowing such a deeper relationship would only drag Trixie right into the thick of things…and potentially put her in danger in the process. And love or not, Thorax wouldn’t stand for that. She deserved better.
But every time the thought of ending it arose, the ache in his chest would start up again. Thorax often glared down at his barrel in annoyance when it happened, as if he could intimidate the ache into going away. He really didn’t understand how he could really be feeling two different ways over this matter, or even how that could be possible. But he knew going against it would likely mean severing all ties with Trixie…and he hated that. The one thing he could agree upon without hesitation was that he enjoyed the contact he had with her. He knew that, at the very least, she was a good friend, one who seemed to understand where he came from on some base level, and one who was surprisingly supportive, all things considered. He enjoyed that much, Trixie seemed to as well, and he loathed having to lose it…even though that wouldn’t make the situation any easier to handle. Was this really what others had to deal with when they got themselves into love relationships? It seemed like an awful lot of stress then…
Was he even really interested in such a relationship, regardless of who it was with? He really hadn’t been planning to end up in one. He hadn’t even really been looking ahead to pursuing one at some point in the future. He’d always figured he’d just let fate decide. He never thought this was where fate would put him though. Still, he did have to wonder if he should have expected this possibility, theoretical or not, coming up at some point. Did he not want changelings and ponies to reach a point where they could be ready friends between each other? Logically, then, the question of whether or not ponies and changelings could pursue beyond simple friendship for something more intimate should be addressed as well. Thorax just didn’t think he’d be the one pioneering the way.
It made him feel awkward and unsure about the whole subject. He had no past experience in love. Feeding upon it, certainly. Knowing how to look for it in others, obviously. But never had he faced it personally…not like this. How could he be sure it even was love? He didn’t actually know for certain after all. Fly Leaf had merely but strongly posited the theory, and managed to be convincing enough that Thorax had to stop and wonder if it really wasn’t imagined after all. Just because Fly Leaf believed it existed didn’t mean it was true though. How did he know the supposed attraction he felt wasn’t just a peculiar side-effect of a particularly healthy friendship?
Regardless, now that Fly had brought it to his attention he couldn’t deny that there was at least something there between them…he just couldn’t be sure what to accurately call it. Was it just friendship, or was it really something more? In an attempt to puzzle it out, Thorax decided to take the sum of his interactions with Trixie thus far and compare them with his own friendship with Spike, knowing there wasn’t anyone else he had a stronger friendship with. He reasoned that if the two matched up, then he could just rule off his interactions with Trixie as being the same sort of friendship and leave it at that for now, at least until new developments arose.
Unfortunately, he ultimately concluded that while there was certainly a lot of parallels between the two associations, his interactions with Trixie still bore a markedly different trait to it that he just couldn’t find an equivalent to in his friendship with Spike. This trait was very pronounced too, and worryingly, it seemed to lend credence to Fly’s views about what it was. This mysterious trait could very well be love, or at least something akin, leading into it. In the end though, determining this didn’t help Thorax much because while he identified this mystery trait as being there and Thorax felt a strong emotional connection to it…he had never felt the like of it before, and without that frame of reference, he couldn’t confidently identify what it actually was.
He spent most of the rest of the day since his and Fly’s chat that morning pondering the matter, but by that evening he saw he was only going in circles and succeeding in making himself less and less confident he actually understood what was really going on. What he needed was a second opinion, and he thought that since he would probably have to do it eventually anyway, he decided he would take Fly’s advice and turn to Trixie, consulting her opinions on the subject. She hadn’t before mentioned anything like this being the case for her either, but Thorax figured that if whatever she was feeling was in anyway like what he was experiencing now, he couldn’t blame her for neglecting to speak about it. She might be still trying to figure it out before she said anything herself. Or, as Fly had implied, she had already hinted and Thorax had simply missed the hints. Considering how much this was new territory for him, it was certainly possible.
Either way, he had a chance to do so now. As Fly had been so apt to note the previous day, Thorax was usually quick to write back and mail a response to every letter he got from Trixie the same day he got one, but because of the hubbub the realization these letters may not be so innocent after all had caused, it was now nearly the end of the day after and he still hadn’t written and sent his response. So he sat down and proceeded to begin, deciding to use the chance to voice his thoughts.
Thus began the daunting prospect of writing a letter inquiring about it. That evening after dinner, while Spike sat across the room working on his latest writing project (and seemed to be getting really into it as he was all but oblivious of what Thorax was doing), Thorax sat on his sleeping nest and tried to compose a satisfactory letter to Trixie. He wanted to be upfront, but he also wanted to be gentle about it, for her sake. And it was going about as well as one would expect; it wasn’t. After about six or seven false starts that only ended up as crumpled balls of parchment now scattered about his nest and several minutes of long internal debates over every single word he penned, Thorax stopped on his latest attempt to review what little he had written thus far and found he was yet again dissatisfied with it.
Not only did he lack the nerve still, he also wasn’t happy with how he was approaching it. It felt too impersonal, too lacking in genuine emotion, and above all he felt Trixie deserved more context about the whole matter than he was giving. He felt he should give more background about why he was writing this first, to give her a better frame of reference. But he knew there were problems to that approach as well; he had tried it already in one of his past attempts, only to ramble on aimlessly for over a page of parchment and still hadn’t gotten to the point of the whole letter. Clearly, there was a need for detail, but also a need to be succinct or it just wouldn’t feel right. A balance he was struggling to find.
Either way, the letter wasn’t going well. With a groan, Thorax dropped the quill and rubbed his hooves over his chitinous face. He stared at the letter he had started, then with a sigh grabbed the parchment and crumpled it up into a ball, tossing it onto the floor to join the others.
Spike noticed, and glanced up from what he was working on across the room. “Something wrong, Thorax?” he asked aloud.
“No, just…not having any success in getting my thoughts in order,” Thorax replied vaguely. He rubbed at his eyes again, before glancing over at Spike once more. The dragon, apparently reassured enough, had already turned back to what he was working on, the scratching of his quill a near continuous sound as he wrote. Thorax watched him for a moment. “At least you seem to be having better luck than I am.”
Spike chuckled. “We’ll see if it lasts,” he admitted without looking up from his writing.
“What are you working on anyway? You seem to have been pretty dedicated about it the past couple of days.”
“Just a story idea that sprang to me recently. I guess the sudden inspiration has left me on a bit of a writing high…I keep getting ideas to write and the story’s been coming together way fast…faster than everything else I’ve been working on, and I’ve just been on a roll.” Spike’s grin grew. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself…but I might finally be onto something with this one.”
Thorax turned his gaze to the parchment Spike was writing on and grew curious. “So what’s it about?” he asked, hoping Spike would enlighten him. He suspected the dragon wouldn’t though; he was very private about his writing and didn’t like to share them much while he was still working on them.
“Something I think might be a whole series of books,” Spike explained however, before proceeding to actually give Thorax some details for a change. “You might like it actually, it’s definitely a sort of sci-fi-ish story, just with a lot of adventure too. It begins with these two ponies who’re in the wrong place at the wrong time when these aliens attack the office building they work in, planning to use the metal frame of the building in a plot to destroy Equestria, and now they have to work with this other pony who’s part of this secret league of ponies that are working to stop the plot and protect the planet from these and other aliens. The idea is that they then join this pony in further adventures saving the planet and fighting aliens after that, traveling throughout the solar system even.”
Thorax hummed in approval, seeing an appeal to the idea. “Can I read it?” he asked next.
“When it’s done,” Spike replied, and Thorax had to grin at this response. That was the sort of response he was more used to getting when asking about his friend’s writing.
The conversation stalled out from there though, so Thorax decided to turn back to his letter to Trixie, pulling out a clean sheet of parchment to try yet again. He got as far as “Dear Trixie,” before becoming stuck again. He sighed to himself, really not knowing how to proceed with this. The desire was there, but it was all sorts of awkward to do, and it didn’t help that his mind was lost in a sea of conflicting thoughts, trying to puzzle out a matter he wasn’t certain he fully understood. He glanced back up at Spike, watching the young dragon write, and realized abruptly he hadn’t talked to Spike about all of this either, and wondered if he should.
He even wondered why he hadn’t already…but it wasn’t hard to discover his hesitation. Since Trixie’s departure, Spike seemed to have put her entirely from his mind, and demonstrated no outward worries about her or that she had met Thorax, which suggested he wasn’t worried—or at least as worried—about security issues associating with Trixie as he did other things. But Thorax had never been able to shake the perception that while Spike had relented in that Thorax attending her show hadn’t caused any harm for them and was for now okay with Thorax writing letters to her…he still didn’t feel inclined to trust her personally or overall like her too much. And that was probably Thorax’s issue right there—he flatly disagreed with Spike on this matter. He had come to feel that Spike didn’t really know Trixie as well as he thought, a thought that Thorax had only grown more confident of the more he associated with Trixie.
Regardless, he couldn’t help but wonder what Spike might think about the idea of a changeling like him getting with a pony like Trixie, and whether or not he’d think like Fly and that there was actually something like love there. Then he wondered if Spike would think that was a good or bad idea. Thorax reckoned the latter…but it would be sort of nice to get a second opinion on that much. And it’d be a bit of a shame to not to, really. This was the sort of matter he could’ve counted on Spike’s advice and input in the past, and he felt he should have it this time around too…good or bad. And then he thought that perhaps he still could, just…indirectly.
“Spike,” Thorax began suddenly, acting on the whim before any misgivings could catch up to him. “I…have something of an odd question for you.”
“I’m listening,” Spike replied without looking up from his writing, his quill still scratching away. Thorax wondered if his attention was really on him enough.
Regardless, Thorax tapped his holed hooves together as he collected his thoughts, devising how he wished to phrase this question. He decided to give no background, no frame of reference, nothing that might let him put it off and loose the desire to proceed, and just got to the point of his problem. “What’s it like to be in love?”
The scratching of Spike’s quill abruptly stopped. Spike glanced up at Thorax with a blank look on his face, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Where did this question come from?”
Thorax shifted uneasily, knowing he needed to phrase this delicately. “Well…as a changeling…you know I’m always feeding upon love and the such…but it’s occurred to me I’ve…never actually experienced it for myself before, like ponies do, so…”
Spike slowly began to nod. “You’re wondering what it feels like,” he finished, catching on.
Thorax nodded, relieved Spike had finished his explanation for him so he wouldn’t have to continue. “Yes, exactly.”
Spike frowned, tickling his snout with the tip of his quill as he mulled upon the question. “I’m not sure I’m really the right one to answer this,” he admitted finally. He blushed slightly. “I…haven’t had a lot of luck in the love department either.”
“Surely you’d still have a better frame of reference than I do.”
“That depends…what do you already know about the subject?”
Thorax bit his lip, eyes rolling upward as he sought answers. “Really not a lot,” he admitted. “I mean…it shouldn’t be a surprise when I say that there’s really not a whole lot of love to be had in the changeling hive…”
“Yeah, but…don’t changelings still have relationships?” Spike asked, draping one arm over the back of his chair. “You know, where the guy gets the gal and that sort of thing?”
Thorax chuckled at Spike’s simple phrasing. “Not really in the way ponies seem to do it,” he admitted. He changed his position in his sleeping nest slightly so to better face Spike. “You see, in the hive, pairings between male and female drones happen more at…random, and just so to serve as a means to an end.”
Spike’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Basically, there’s only ever one goal behind such pairings; to mate and produce offspring. As soon as a changeling is mature enough, they’re assigned by the queen to find a mate and produce at least one offspring, so to propagate the hive’s populace. Once they’ve done that, the parents of that offspring part ways and go back to their usual duties.” Thorax shrugged. “Sometimes they’ll come back together and mate again when next asked, but usually not. There’s nothing personal about it, it’s just business. I guess changelings see it as only another job to fulfill and little more.”
But Spike seemed to grow more puzzled, the whole idea seeming bizarre to him. “But…what about their kids? Don’t they stick around to raise them?”
Thorax shook his head. “No, once the fertilized eggs are laid, the clutch is taken to the hive nursery where rotating crews of assigned brood mothers oversee the care and tending of the eggs, and the eventual hatchlings. Most never meet their biological parents. I never did.”
Spike’s eyes widened. “Really?” he breathed, stunned. “You mean to tell me your parents just had the egg and then abandoned you to be raised by someone else entirely?”
Thorax shrugged, well-adjusted to the idea. “That’s how it works in the hive.”
“But…” Spike’s brow furrowed again as he struggled to puzzle this out. “…how does that give you any sense of family?”
“There are no families in the hive, Spike,” Thorax reminded patiently. “The only reason changelings even know what that is, is because of our need to infiltrate pony culture to feed. Otherwise, from hatching on, it’s every changeling for themselves, except where it’s for the greater good of the hive on a whole. The closest I ever got to anything like the sort of family you would be familiar with are my clutchmates…and I’ve already made it clear we didn’t associate well. And even if we had…we would’ve still been off doing our own thing most of the time, doing whatever asked of us in the hive, and not really associating any.”
Spike winced. “Well that’s certainly got no love in it at all!” he decreed. “No parents, no real sense of siblings…” he then shrugged. “Well, I guess still you had those brood mother changelings or whatever…”
But Thorax shook his head again. “If you’re implying any of us bond with our brood mothers, that’s not the case. Like I said, they’re a rotating staff. My clutchmates and I had a different brood mother nearly every week until we left the nursery. Never really got to know any of them too well. I think Queen Chrysalis does this deliberately to ensure there’s little chance of any conflicting loyalties being imprinted on the new offspring.”
Spike scowled. “Well then, I’m starting to see your problem all right,” he remarked. “You really wouldn’t get much frame of reference for love—of any type—in an environment like that. Just the idea of any parent more or less abandoning their offspring like that, just because…” He then blinked and trailed off, a thought coming to him he hadn’t ever considered before. “You…haven’t actually done that yourself…have you, Thorax?”
“You mean mate and sire offspring?” Thorax asked, matter-of-fact and innocently blunt. He shook his head. “No. I’m certainly old enough, and have been for a couple years even before leaving the hive, but oddly, despite that, I was never assigned to mate by the queen before I left…so I never did. I have a hunch Queen Chrysalis was avoiding requesting me to do so because she didn’t want me passing on the traits in me she disapproved of on to future generations.”
“Oh,” Spike said, looking awkward. “Well…that’s good! Because…well, frankly that’s an awful way to go about it. I really can’t believe that’s how it’s done for changelings.” He started to grow concerned. “I mean, I knew life wasn’t sunshine and daisies in the hive already from what you’ve told me before, but this…”
“You see why I left, then,” Thorax remarked with a small, sad grin. He straightened. “But we’re getting off topic.”
“Right…” Spike said distractedly, though he looked like he clearly wanted to say more about the subject of changeling mating and nurturing practices. He stopped to consider Thorax’s original question for another few moments. “Well…love’s difficult to describe, Thorax. Twilight has dozens upon dozens of books on the subject, all describing it a little differently…and Cadance, the princess of love herself, seems to describe it a little differently every time she talks about it, so…” he shrugged. “I guess love can mean different things to different ponies.”
Thorax nodded, following his reasoning. “So what does it mean to you?” he prompted. Again, Spike had to stop and think about it, so Thorax decided to try and narrow the scope of his question. “Have you ever been in love, Spike?”
Spike froze suddenly at this, gazing at Thorax with blank eyes for a long moment. Gradually, though, his gaze turned vacant and faraway, thinking of other things that were hopefully relevant to Thorax’s question. He assumed they were, because he soon caught whiffs of adoration and longing within Spike’s emotions, a welcome change to the feelings of shock, disapproval and almost disgust he had been putting off while discussing the lack of love within the changeling hive. Soon, Thorax began to wonder if Spike was indeed thinking of a target of his love or affection, and while waiting for Spike to formulate a response, he started to ponder who it might be.
Then his gaze fell upon the bowtie Spike still wore about his neck as part of his disguise, and recalled the reasons why that particular bowtie was so special to the dragon. “Rarity,” he suddenly blurted out aloud.
Spike’s expression immediately turned into one akin to a foal with its hoof caught in the cookie jar. “N-no,” he quickly and nervously denied, starting to sweat. “Who told you that? That’s not—it’s nothing like that…certainly not with Rarity, not to say she’s isn’t more than worthy of it of course, but—no wait, I mean…um…” he trailed off, blushing. By this point, Thorax, not fooled, had started to give Spike a knowing look. Embarrassed, Spike sighed in defeat. “It’s that obvious, huh?”
Thorax motioned to himself. “Changeling,” he reminded teasingly.
Spike nodded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head with his claws. “Yeah…yeah, I guess I should’ve figured that already…” He winced. “Look…it’s…sort of a secret…”
“Mm-hmm,” Thorax hummed, who, after that display, couldn’t help but wonder if it really was. He worked to nudge Spike back on topic again. “But anyway…you and Rarity…”
Spike continued to wince, avoiding eye contact. “Well…to be truthful…it’s really more of a crush…” he admitted with much reluctance.
“A crush?” Thorax frowned, not understanding. “Meaning…?”
“Meaning it’s not really a relationship.” Spike turned mellow now, feelings turning ever so slightly darker. “Basically…I have…” he waved his claws about, trying to find the right word he was comfortable admitting. “…feelings for her, but uh…” he sighed. “…I’d been starting to think they weren’t ever going to be returned by her.”
“Oh,” Thorax said, starting to understand. “So…it’s all one-way, in other words.”
Spike snorted. “One way of putting it.” He played at the bowtie with his claws, thinking about the mare in question a little dejectedly. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, seeing we’re apart and I’m on the run and in hiding…I don’t know, maybe it’s for the better anyway…Twilight always was telling me that it was more puppy love than real love anyway, but…you know, what does she know?” Spike sighed again. He shook his head. “I guess what you’re looking to know though is that love is…love is complicated. You love it and hate it at the same time, because it’s the most wonderful feeling the world, but it’ll also lead you to do things you didn’t necessarily want to do…”
“A sort of…hypnotism, then?” Thorax attempted to reason, not following.
Spike laughed. “No, no, no,” he assured, chuckling. “Sheesh, you really don’t understand this, do you?” He shook his head. “But no, it’s not anything like that. You do those things, because it hurts too much to think not to do them, not when they’d bring the…uh…subject of your affection I guess, joy in doing them.”
“So…it’s sort of like torture…but good?” Thorax again attempted to poorly reason.
Again Spike chuckled. “I guess it does kind of torture you in a way, but…you don’t mind it. You sort of want it to happen…” Spike trailed off, waving his claws about again. “…is any of this making sense?”
Thorax simply shook his head.
Spike sighed, and rubbed at his forehead for a moment. “Okay, let me try it another way,” he said, starting over. “To me…and keep in mind that I’ve only had so much experience at this…love is…liking someone so much that…you’re willing to do pretty much anything for them, so you can be assured that they’re happy…safe…taken care of…they become so important to you that their happiness starts to become more important than your own. And you take joy in seeing them happy and successful in life…and you’d hate to see anything bad, big or small, happen to them. You enjoy their company so much that you’d hate to ever have to be apart from them for too long, and are always longing for their presence…and that there’s this burning desire within you to keep them close and safe. And if you ever lose that…it makes you feel cold and almost sick inside.” Spike trailed off again, pondering if there was any other way he could describe it. “Love is special, Thorax…it’s not something to be taken for granted. I suppose in some ways…having the ability to love and be loved…that’s what makes life worth living.”
Thorax tilted his head at the dragon, considering his almost poetic words in silence for a long moment. He considered inwardly his own feelings, and supposed he saw what Spike was trying to describe. He still wasn’t sure if it was the same thing…but thinking about Spike’s words did make him feel comfortably warm inside, a feeling that grew when he applied it to thoughts of Trixie. But doing that also made him feel anxious, realizing the implications might just be genuine after all. He also noticed that tell-tale ache in his chest he couldn’t explain throbbed in varying degrees during all of this, almost in response to Thorax’s ponderings on the matter…and he wondered if this ache was the “burning desire” Spike was describing. That made him feel even more uneasy.
Spike waited for Thorax to make some kind of comment back in response, but when he didn’t, he spoke again. “Does any of that help?” he asked. “I know it’s sort of jumbled…like I said, it’s hard to describe…but did I at least get the gist of it across?”
“I think so,” Thorax said, but then he had one last question, something he realized he needed to be considering if this was actually something he was going to be facing. “But…how does one go about…getting love?”
“…you mean falling in love?” Spike inquired for clarity. When Thorax nodded, Spike hummed to himself, considering it. “Well, in my experience, it’s not really something you plan for. It just sort of happens on its own. I’ve found you can’t really force it…doing so just ends in disaster and you no closer to getting the love you desire…if not driving it further away. It’s better to not try and direct it or speed it up yourself, but instead just let it progress on it’s on…let it grow and develop naturally. Sort of like planting a seed and letting it grow into a plant. If there’s really something there, then if it’s getting the proper nurture, love will eventually bloom in full.”
Thorax envisioned love blossoming like a flower. “Hm,” he hummed as he mulled this over. He glanced back down at the unfinished letter to Trixie. “So in short, you let things proceed on their own, and eventually you’ll not only have love, but personal confirmation and certainty that this is what you’ve got?”
“If that’s what it actually is,” Spike pressed. He then furrowed his eyes at Thorax, puzzled. “Why are you asking all of this all of a sudden? I mean, I can understand if it was just simple curiosity, but you seem…oddly specific about it…” He trailed off, looking like he was waiting for Thorax to offer an explanation, but Thorax instead sat in his sleeping nest and stayed silent, nervously trying his hardest to not look nervous, hoping to not give Spike any clues about what was really happening. Eventually though, it was to no avail because Spike then tilted his head at the changeling. “Do you…have someone you have your eye on, Thorax?”
Thorax immediately diverted his gaze. “No,” he impulsively lied, embarrassed at the idea of having to explain the situation to Spike, not eager to face what he strongly suspected would be a negative reaction from Spike.
Spike was silent for a very long moment, eyeing Thorax closely during that space of time. Thorax avoided eye contact that whole time and said nothing further, attempting to make himself look busy by turning his attention back to his letter. To his alarm, he suddenly spied Spike’s gaze moving upward to look at the poster of Trixie that happened to be hanging on the wall above Thorax’s head, and Thorax felt his heart jolt in fear that Spike was figuring it out anyway.
But if this was the case, Spike chose to say nothing about it as his gaze went back to Thorax. “Okay then,” he said simply. He then turned back to his own work. Thorax proceeded to do the same when Spike spoke one final time. “Even if you were though…I just want you to remember that you are still a changeling in hiding…not exactly the right type of environment to nurture a love relationship in.”
Thorax looked at the dragon for a beat, Spike not looking up from the writing he had resumed. “Good thing I’m not in anything like that, then,” he concluded.
“Guess so,” Spike said, and with that, the topic was closed.
Thorax eventually did complete that letter to Trixie, but not in the way he was originally envisioning. Instead of this lengthy discussion about where he and she stood on each other and whether or not that was something akin or approaching to love, he wrote a comparatively more normal letter responding and commenting to all the points Trixie had brought up in her letter as normal. Then, at the end, he wrote:
I enjoy getting your letters too Trixie, and I also hope you will keep sending them. They bring me joy to read, and according to my boss, they always bring a smile to my face. I am still debating on just what she means by that when she brings it up, but whatever it is, I trust that it means I am doing something right. I am uncertain what it means about you and I in the future, and perhaps I should not be thinking about that right now. But considering it I have, and I hope that, whatever does come, I will be ready for it, and I hope I will have and can count on you for support, whatever that may be. May whatever come be joyous for the both of us. I like to think you would agree with that assessment.
Upon finishing writing the letter, he then mailed it off with the postmare the following morning. When he got back Trixie’s response a few days later, he was somewhat underwhelmed to find that Trixie didn’t comment on the matter beyond writing “We will have to discuss it further and in more depth next time I visit” and nothing more, conveying little about her own thoughts on the matter. Nevertheless, Thorax still got the distinct impression that if Trixie hadn’t been thinking there might be a closer relationship growing between them, she was now, and now, like Thorax, was beginning to wonder just what that meant for the both of them.
And for Thorax, that was good enough for now.