The wind came in a cold, shrill whistle in her ears. Her lungs burning with her every breath, she could feel her tired muscles aching, begging her to land and take a rest before her wings failed and sent her into a free fall. A free fall which would leave her easy prey to her pursuer.
A draconic roar cut through the air and shook her to the very bone. As if hearing her thoughts, Hadkhûna chose then, when her resolve was at her weakest, to remind her that she wasn’t far behind. And closing fast.
Faster than she could manage.
Twilight Sparkle sent every prayer to the heavens, made every bargain with her tired wings to press onward. Just a bit farther! she told herself. We can lose her once we get to the Forest of Mists and detour through the Nightmare Swamp! Even she wouldn’t dare enter that place! None would!
None save a desperate alicorn, of course. If she made it.
The thought alone was a lie, but a sweet one. Sweet enough to fill her chest with renewed vigor, even as beads of cold sweat rolled down her cheeks and stained her coat, beading over the glittering gold necklace she’d stolen. Reflexively, her hooves clutched at Princess Platinum’s crown, and she sent a thousand curses to Celestia for sending her on this job.
And then a thousand more at herself for taking the stupid necklace. Vanity, as Celestia and Luna both had warned her, was a terrible curse. As was avarice. And both had led to many a pony’s folly.
“If I make it out of this alive, I’ll never steal again!” Twilight vowed to any higher powers listening. The forest loomed ahead—so close, yet so far away! But she could make it! If she just pushed herself a little harder, a little farther, she could make it to safety!
A sound like a hurricane’s gale stole her very breath away, then came a massive claw wrapping around her entire body and snatching her out of the air like a foal plucking a cookie from the jar. She made to yelp, but Hadkhûna’s mighty grip squeezed the very breath from her lungs. With a roar of victory, the great she-dragon dove for the ground like a bolt from a Royal Guard’s crossbow. Her opulent white scales and purple fins glistening in the sunlight, her long curly mane whipping in the wind.
They landed with a loud crash and cloud of dust, the she-dragon’s claws digging a trench in the soil as she came skidding to a halt, and pinned Twilight Sparkle, the self-proclaimed Princess of Thieves, to the ground beneath her massive fore claws.
Though the young mare knew in her head her fate was sealed, instinct overrode natural thought. She squirmed, giving one last effort with tired, aching muscles and empty lungs to wriggle free and escape Hadkhûna’s grasp, but to no avail. Her legs kicked and wings flapped, but all the she-dragon had to do, all she did, was dig her claws deep into the soil and press her palm down upon Twilight’s chest.
With a defeated moan, Twilight let her hooves fall limp against the ground. Her amethyst eyes stared up, gazing deep into those blazing sapphire eyes of the great she-dragon who razed civilizations throughout the centuries and stood head and shoulders above all her kin.
Hadkhûna drew in close, her cheek scales flushing a deep, rosy pink and nostrils flaring. Her lips were set in a thin line, like a mare unsure whether to be furious or flattered.
Twilight turned broke her gaze, turning away so she wouldn’t have to watch those massive jaws open to reveal the cavernous maw, the path to her final resting place in the belly of a mighty beast she’d so foolishly robbed. She could feel Hadkhûna’s hot, humid breath bathing her coat with its scent as she brought her mouth so close her lips brushed over Twilight’s very cheek as she whispered as softly as a she-dragon her size could manage, “Tell me more about my eyes.”
Silence fell over them, over the entire land as if even the creatures of the distant forest paused in their birdsongs and scampering through the trees to turn and say what as they regarded the scene. A pony, a princess of Equestria, and admitted thief, laying pinned beneath the claws of the Last of the Great Serpents, completely helpless to defend herself or make any such move to escape a terrible demise …
“Huh?” Twilight goggled.
Hadkhûna’s nose trailed up her cheek, until her massive lips brushed across her ear tip. “Tell me more about my eyes,” she repeated, her voice rising just enough so Twilight could detect just a hint of something familiar—nerves, like in a crushing mare’s voice. “Tell me, little darling, gem among ponykind, what drew those words from your lips.”
All the trapped mare could do was turn and gape, a choked sputter sounded from within her throat as she tried to will herself to vocalize some disbelief, some question as to what in the name of sanity had possessed the legendary she-dragon.
A low purr rumbled within Hadkhûna’s chest. “Tell me, please, darling Twilight,” she murmured. Her massive jaws opened, a warm, wet tongue ran up Twilight’s chest to the very tip of her nose, leaving her coat matted and unkempt. “Twilight. Twilight Sparkle, you’d best wake up.”
Huh? Twilight blinked. Something wasn’t right here. When had she told Hadkhûna her name?
“My little gem,” Hadkhûna purred in her ears, her voice stirring something deep within her chest. “If you don’t wake up, I’ll have to tease you again.” Once more, that warm tongue lapped at her face, followed by a surprisingly soft kiss upon her cheek. “Up you get, little darling.”
She blinked again. The scene disappeared and blended into a blur of colors. She could see golden sunlight bathing the land, verdant grass stretching as far as the eye could see and trees off some twenty miles in the distance. But most importantly of all, she noticed her bed wasn’t a bed or sleeping bag—but a belly of white scales adorned with sparkling gems and gold embedded in the spaces between a repeating pattern of three sky blue diamonds.
Her gaze was drawn up to her bed’s long neck and face, those regal purple curls still as perfect and pristine as they’d been in Erebark, those horns and fins as impressive, and pearly white fangs just as deadly. The smile gracing Hadkhûna’s lips was wicked indeed, but bore that of a lover enjoying the chance to tease and dote upon their special somepony. And those eyes …
Those sapphire eyes shone with utmost adoration as she trailed a mighty claw beneath Twilight’s chin and tilted the little mare’s head back. “Good morning, little gem,” she rumbled, giving her a slow, affectionate lick. “I thought we agreed you’d wake when I did without issue.”
Twilight’s brain finally kicked into gear. That day hadn’t been the end of her, but the start of them. The start of a strange, strange thing between thief and she-dragon.
One they were still trying to figure out.
Almost on instinct, she let out a keening whine and beat her hooves against Hadkhûna’s belly. “It’s too early!” she grumped, shifting so she could escape the claw’s grasp and bury her face in those warm scales.
“We agreed,” Hadkhûna said with a rumbling chuckle, “that you would rise when I did, darling.” Again, an affectionate lick ran over her form, from the small of her back to the base of her neck, lingering long enough between her wings to draw a breathy gasp and shiver, and earn a throaty purr from her tormenting lover. “You will rise with me, or I will lavish you until your face shares color with dragon fire. Either way, I do believe I come out on top, as it were.”
A heady heat rose in Twilight’s cheeks, coloring her coat a deep reddish brown. She covered her head with her mulberry feathers to hide her face and the smile which threatened to betray her feeling on the matter. An act which drew another chuckle, and a teasing trailing of that massive claw down her spine to her rump.
With a squeak, she sat upright, her wings spread and feathers on full display, and her blush spread to the base of her neck. “Ex-Excuse you!” she stammered.
“Excuse you, darling gem,” the she-dragon retorted. She planted a surprisingly soft kiss on her mare’s face, fluttering her lashes. “But I do believe I’ve found a little crack in the armor of my Princess of Thieves, and I shall exploit it most happily. As is my right, seeing as you are my lover.”
Her lover?
Twilight puffed her cheeks. “You left Erebark for me,” she countered, a hint of playfulness to her tone. “Who’s to say you’re not mine?”
Another throaty purr came in reply. “Me, little gem. After all, I have you here.” The claw trailed down her spine again, her resolve broke beneath a pleasant tingle. “And can garner such delicious responses at will. I would weigh that against the gold and gems in my mountain.”
Through the heated blush and wobbly smile which spread against her will, Twilight affixed her strange lover and tormentor with a glare. She couldn’t deny that Hadkhûna had a point. The she-dragon knew just how to make her heart flutter.
Perhaps if she’d done so in Erebark, Twilight would’ve found herself swayed to remain and be that crown jewel of her hoard as she so claimed.
Well. Twilight herself rather than her bones. And damned if she couldn’t say it was a right sight more enticing than a return to Canterlot and a life spent sitting on a gilded throne to govern a nation.
That thought alone drew her to a screeching halt. They’d been on the road to Canterlot for some time, passing over the river and through the Forest of Mists, bound to scale the distant Rolling Thunder Mountains. Which meant a trip through Brickenbrack Village.
Twilight cringed. The village ponies had been … well, as any would be when discussing what lurked deep in the halls of the ancient Kings Under the Mountain. Utterly terrified, recoiling from her as if the mere mention of Hadkhûna’s name would rouse her from sleep and bring her to rain fire and death upon their heads as she had in centuries prior.
And very well could again.
If they saw Hadkhûna waltz into the village there would be mass panic, even if Twilight assured them she wouldn’t do anything untoward. This time.
Not to mention, she wasn’t entirely certain she could stop her rather significantly larger and powerful lover if she wanted to.
Hadkhûna tapped a claw against her flank in silent prodding to hop off her belly and allow her to rise, one granted with all the ease of a simple flap of her wings and landing on the warm grass. With a moan, she rolled over and stretched, her muscles moving in that sensuous, graceful motion with underlying might. Like watching a tidal wave--beautiful, but a force of nature all the same.
“Mmm, well, no sense in dallying further I suppose,” the she-dragon mused. “We have plenty of ground to cover, if you’re still insistent on returning home with my crown.”
“Platinum’s crown,” Twilight corrected with a cheeky smirk.
A quip which earned an arching of one of her opulent white brow scales. “Ownership is nine-tenths of the law, my little gem. I held ownership of that silly thing far longer than that uppity brat’s family ever did.”
“And now, it’s in mine.” Her smirk grew into a sunny smile. “So really, we’re returning my crown.”
A look like a foal sucking on a lemon flitted across Hadkhûna’s face. Then, she gave a little tilt of her head to one side. “Fair enough. Semantics aside, however, it’s quite a journey.” Almost on cue, her belly began to rumble. Her frown deepened. “And I do believe it’s time for both of us to break our fasts. I take it you’d rather avoid seeing me, er, in mid meal.”
Twilight cringed. The image of this, her great she-dragon lover, hunched over some poor buffalo, rending their leg from their body and the blood dripping from her fangs …
She didn’t mean to judge, but it was quite difficult to avoid. And, on a more selfish note, it mad things between them complicated. Very much so.
How were they supposed to be together if they couldn’t even share a meal without one of them needing to run and stick her head in the bushes?
Still. Watching Hadkhûna rip some poor creature with such vigor wasn’t quite her idea of a date night. They’d have to figure something out.
Or something to work as a substitute.
Twilight’s ears twitched. That was it! Her brilliant mind began to kick into gear. If they couldn’t eat together and had to part during mealtimes, why couldn’t they do something else? Something for one another whenever they came together again?
Yes, she mused, a slow smirk began to spread across her face. And I’ve got just the perfect idea. Twilight turned her gaze upon Hadkhûna and aimed her most winning smile at the she-dragon. “I would, but I think I have a suggestion for something,” she said. “Something that can take the place of shared meals, at least until we get to Canterlot.”
Hadkhûna’s brow arched once more, an amused smirk spread across her muzzle. “You tempt well, my darling. I’m listening.”
That winning smile grew into a full, toothy grin as Twilight flew closer to her lover’s snout and hovered so she could explain her proposal and convey her want for them to have that moment together as a couple if they were to try and see if they were meant to work out, strange though their union and circumstances were.
The instant she finished, Twilight found herself swept into those mighty limbs and pressed against Hadkhûna’s broad, muscular chest, and lavished with a flurry of kisses and licks to her face and head. “Oh, my darling gem! That’s a wonderful idea!” she crooned. Drawing back a moment, she gave an uneasy smile and asked, “But, really, is telling me no razing or threatening or killing necessary? That rather limits what I can find.”
“Yes,” Twilight replied with a flat look.
Perhaps for the first time since she was but a welp, Hadkhûna was seen pouting and huffing a smokey breath through her nose. “You’re just no fun at all. You’re lucky you’re adorable.”
Twilight Sparkle felt her smile straining with each greeting, each playful tease about her quest as she walked through Brickenbrack Village.
The ponies were relieved to see her, of course. Each had tried some manner of convincing and cajoling to get her to rethink her plan. Princess Platinum’s crown wasn’t nearly as valuable as a life so young, the older folks said. It’s a fool’s errand! Surely she didn’t think it wise to test her mettle and wit against such a beast, said those closer to her age.
The little ones, on the other hoof …
“Miss Sparkle! Miss Sparkle!” one of the little colts said as he dashed about her ankles. His big blue eyes were wide and full of wonder. “Did you really do it? Did you slay that nasty dragon?”
“How’d you do it?” a little filly asked. A few nervous sparks drizzling from her horn, she shuffled her hooves in the dirt. “My daddy was all worried and mommy thought you were crazy going after Hadkhû—yeeowch! Cobalt! What the hay!”
Another colt flared his wings, glaring through yellow eyes. “Don’t say her name, dummy! You know the adults told us what happens if she knows we talk about her!”
And so on and so forth.
Oh, how their little heads would pop if she told them she didn’t so much slay Hadkhûna as she did, er … well. Lay with her. Atop her. Every night when they went to bed.
It was truly for their benefit, and that of their parents’ sanity, that she kept such comments to herself. Not at all a selfish attempt to keep her blush hidden. Any accusations hinting at such were simply slander and would be prosecuted with the full authority of the Crown.
Because that was totally how things worked.
She deftly stepped around the foals with a forced smile and muttered pardon, hurrying herself along to the old wooden building ahead. The woodwork told of decades of torment by the elements, the faded lettering on the sign had long-since been rendered unreadable, but the admittedly cartoonish visage of a member of each of pony races throwing back a mug of beer was, quite miraculously, still visible.
That familiarity served some measure of comfort while she searched out something to eat and wracked her brain for something to get for Hadkhûna. What exactly could she find that matched the worth of just one of the trinkets in Erebark? It was this which dominated her thoughts as she pushed open the wooden door and stepped through the threshold.
“Ah! Miss Sparkle,” the aged stallion behind the old wooden bar, an older earth pony named Brass Tap, greeted as she entered. A smile creased his worn, wrinkled face. “So you decided to return after all. Came to your senses about that crown, eh?”
Twilight’s smile was decidedly wooden. “Something like that,” she replied. Visions of her entering the fallen kingdom to rob and flee from one of the mightiest dragons in history flashed through her mind, but she pushed them aside. “You wouldn’t happen to have some of that potato soup you gave me last time, would you?”
His smile grew. “Do I? Got plenty of it! I’ll tell the wife to go put some on for ya!” He turned to hurry back to the kitchen, hobbling o n those bad old knees of his with every step he took.
In the meantime, Twilight searched out a nice, lonely spot in the corner of the dining room and trotted over, weaving her way through a crowd of village ponies, a few gryphons, and a cat along her path. Each made sure to stop their conversation and aim teasing grins or relieved smiles her way, a question of her sanity or muttered thanks that she came to her senses before daring to test that hated she-dragon’s temper. Oh! And that was a pretty necklace! Where had she found it?
To each, she offered that wooden smile and a forced laugh. Of course she hadn’t. Of course she hadn’t found the secret passage into Erebark’s keep, stolen the necklace and crown she’d tucked into the pack she’d hidden under her overcoat, and run like the dickens with a furious Hadkhûna hot on her tail. Then a wooed Hadkhûna. The necklace? Oh, she found it half buried in the valley. One of the diamond dogs must’ve left it lying in the dirt; fortune had smiled upon her and given her something sparkly for her troubles.
And they believed it. They just smiled, patted her shoulder, offered assurances it was providence granting her a gift for not testing her luck, and let her pass on to her table.
Twilight didn’t so much slide into the booth as she allowed herself to fall and flop into it, all but laying across the seat for a moment before righting herself. Folding her hooves upon the table, she let her head rest upon them and closed her eyes. Again, she began to think on that little idea of hers.
What in Celestia’s name could she find for Hadkhûna? What would even hold her interest? Certainly not something like a box of chocolates—as if that would even last longer than the blink of an eye before the entire box was casually tossed down her throat.
That cheeky she-dragon would probably smirk and ask for the rest of whatever she’d brought, then make some excuse to sweep Twilight into her embrace for “punitive lavishing” or whatever her flavor-of-the-day reason for such antics was.
Worse still, the mare couldn’t help but allow herself a fond smile. What mare didn’t want affection from her lover, dragon or not?
The slow beat of Brass Tap’s unsteady hooves drew a flick of her left ear. “Here’s your soup, Miss Sparkle,” he announced in his wheezy voice. “And some juice.”
She lifted her head and unfolded her hooves so he could slide the cup and a bowl of warm, steaming soup into place. Twilight sniffed, the scent of slightly overcooked potatoes, leek, and broth wafted to her nose. “Perfect,” she muttered, accepting a spoon from the old stallion. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
Twilight spooned a generous bite of potato and leek into her mouth. Bland, uninteresting, and, frankly, only redeemed by its warmth. Just like her last visit.
Perfect.
Now anything could seem interesting by comparison. Maybe then she’d figure something out.
With a sigh, she turned to the old barkeeper and said softly, “I don’t suppose you’d know where I could find something precious, rare, and possibly shiny to give to another, would you?”
He wrinkled his snout. “Lookin’ for something to take the crown’s place? Thought you said that was a job the Princesses asked you to do, Miss Sparkle.”
“It was, yes. But that’s not why I’m looking for something else. Unrelated.” Well. Tangent to the job, anyway. Sighing, she took another bite of potato soup. “I’m looking for a gift, I suppose. For someone—somepony, rather. Somepony special.”
“Aha!” Brass Tap’s smile returned in full. “Now, that, I do know, miss. That I know quite well.” He brought a hoof to his chin in thought, humming a low note. “I can’t say we really have something like that around these parts, though. Not in the village, anyway.” His smile faltered a touch, he aimed a frown at the mare. “You weren’t planning to steal from us, were you—”
“Of course not.” Twilight shook her head firmly. “I’m the Princess of Thieves, but I don’t steal from just anypony. All I’ve stolen, I’ve returned to those the items belonged to.” Admittedly, with the exception of the necklace. That one was hers. “Besides, your village has suffered more than enough over the years. I couldn’t.”
“Much obliged, miss. You’re a much kinder thief than any I’ve ever known.”
“Thank you. Though, if you know of anything I might get for a certain …” She rolled a hoof through the air. “A certain mare close to me. I’d much appreciate that.”
He hummed again. “Well, there’s a couple stories of shiny trinkets ‘round these parts,” Brass Tap admitted, stroking his chin. “A couple right next door, on the peak of Mount Thunderhoof itself.”
The tallest peak of the Rolling Thunder Mountains? Well, a difficult journey, but one on her path anyway. She could make that easily enough. “Would you mind telling me about it?”
“It’s an old one, really. So old, we’re not all that sure about the details.”
“Whatever you have, sir. I’ll gladly hear it.” Deftly, Twilight floated five bits from her hidden purse. Four more than the price of the meal. “Consider this payment for entertaining a curious mare.”
His brows raising, Brass Tap shook his head. “By Celestia’s crown, miss, you must be smitten with this mare.” He sighed and scooped up the bits, then said, “The story goes that there was this group of travelers about fifty years ago or so. They came to the village, smiling and laughing, charming and pretty as you please, and made the village elders think they were friendly. I was just a little foal at the time, you see, so I don’t remember a whole lot. Other than this real beauty of a mare who seemed their leader—kinda like yourself. Though nowhere near as pretty or as polite, if you’ll pardon my saying.”
Twilight fluffed her feathers. She’d always had a bit of a weakness for such flattery. “No pardon needed, I appreciate the compliment.” Taking her cup in hoof, she reclined as best she could in the booth and nodded to him. “What happened?”
“Well, as you’d expect with a group of thieves—present company excepted—they waited ‘till the dead of night, after we’d all been so happy and gracious and thrown them a nice big welcoming party, and slipped into everypony’s house and stole all their treasures! Every piece of gold and silver, anything that ever looked like it shined! My mother’s pearls! Everything, Miss Sparkle. They took it all and made sure they didn’t leave any drawer unchecked. By Celestia, this is the best this town’s looked since, and, well … you see the state of things.”
A low note of discontent built in her chest. Twilight breathed a sigh through her nose. “So they took everything and fled into the mountains? Don’t tell me you mean to say they buried it there.”
“Not at all. They fully intended on leaving. The adults chased after them, you see. Torches, pitchforks, swords, the lot of it. My father used to tell me how they were so close to catching them before they reached the cave.” A visible shudder ran through his body. “I swear to you, Miss Sparkle, as sure as Princess Celestia’s sun shines, I could hear them screaming even as I waited for my father to come home. I could hear those dang thieves screaming for their lives, and it wasn’t the mob what got them. My father told me that himself, and all the adults came home looking like they’d seen some horrors none could imagine.”
Horrors, eh?
Twilight had more than her share of experience with those. “What did they see?” she pressed.
He shook his head. “They never really could describe it. All they said was they saw darkness, total darkness save for the torches bobbing and those thieves jerking about like they’d been caught in wires. Then, some hissing, clicking noise, and some sorta crooning as something blocked them out. And when it moved …” Again, he shuddered. “They’d never say beyond that. Just … darkness. Then they heard that clicking noise come nearer, so they dropped their swords and torches and ran home. Left it all on that mountain-top.” Heaving yet another sigh, he offered her a sad, small smile. “We were all too afraid to even go near the forest on the slopes after that. Shame, too. Played there for years—a game of hide and seek with a mystery mare who’d always sing for us foals, then laugh and wish us luck catching her next time when we’d be called home for dinner.”
A faceless monster, clicking, and darkness. What an interesting tale. Perhaps an old nest of some sort. Spiders, perhaps. Though if nothing had chased, perhaps it was something that made its home there and moved on.
As for the singing? Well, that was probably just coincidence. Didn’t track with what she knew of spiders at all.
Otherwise, why wouldn’t it follow the free meal back down to where a full buffet awaited?
Still, that didn’t solve her need. Oh, their treasures were nice, but that was theirs. She’d return it just as she always did. Free of charge this time.
“This may sound odd,” she began, “but did the thieves have anything else with them, by chance? Did that leader, that mare, have anything?”
Brass Tap furrowed his brows. His gray, wispy tail flicked in thought. “Now that you mention it, she did have a lot of pretty things. Necklaces with topaz stones, earrings, and some nice bracelets around her hooves. Other than that, they kept all their belongings in bags. Never let anypony else touch them for anything.”
A regular gang, then. And with plenty of valuables stolen, if they were guarding them so jealously and so desperate that they’d try to take a shortcut through some random cave.
Caves. Not something one ventured into without proper scouting and ample caution. Whichever idiot pointed it out and went sprinting in, making all the noise of a stampeding buffalo, had no doubt sealed their fate.
If it hadn’t been sealed the second they’d entered regardless.
It would be stupid, common sense told her. If a group of thieves went in and never came out, if it horrified the villagers so much they preferred to drop their weapons and flee home to hide in their destitute little village and let everything fall to ruin, what hope did she have?
Of course, she wasn’t supposed to survive her lover either.
With a smile, Twilight raised her bowl and downed the broth in one gulp, then did the same with her juice. She rose from her table, offering Brass Tap a warm nuzzle to his cheek. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I think you’ve given me exactly what I need.”
“I … have?” He blinked. Then, his mouth dropped open. He took several steps back as if to escape whatever disease robbed her of all rationale. “Miss, no! Please! You had the sense to leave Erebark well alone, you can’t mean to go into the cave!”
All the bar patrons turned in unison, their eyes wide and mouths agape.
Twilight smiled her most brilliant smile as she made for the door, weaving her way through the dumbstruck crowd. She pushed it open and began to step outside, though not without turning to look back over her shoulder. In a low voice which carried through the bar, she uttered eight words. Eight words which made Brass Tap fall back on his haunches with a dull thud:
“I didn’t find this necklace in the dirt.”
She was long gone before any regained their wits.