//------------------------------// // Familiar Shadows // Story: Where We Belong // by BlazzingInferno //------------------------------// The sheets were still rumpled from their afternoon together. Her hoofmade shawl and saddlebags still lay on the floor beside the bed, vestiges of The Pit that she hadn't seen fit to consign to a dresser drawer. Everything in the room had remained as it should have, save for Rarity being the only creature within it. “Spike?” A silence more terrible than even Nightmare Moon’s laughter answered her. “Spike?” she said at a shout. She'd wake the whole castle if she had to. Galloping hooves echoed through the hallway behind her, and Luna’s voice called out. “Rarity, we have heard from the night guard that a small, purple creature left the castle grounds some time ago. Are we to presume that—” Rarity rushed past her. Forget social grace and protocol, she had a dragon to catch. “Thank you again, Princess Luna!” The castle hallways rushed by, along with confused glances from guards, maids, and anypony else unfortunate enough to be in her way. She wouldn't stop. She couldn't. The moon shone down on Canterlot, the streets beyond the castle gates home to a thousand shadows and who knew how many impoverished ponies. Rarity looked left and right, unsure of which road to take. Her own mental map of the city bordered on useless, thanks to the near-total destruction of virtually every street sign and store front. Something streaked by just overhead, ruffling her mane. Looking up, Rarity spied a multicolored tail. “Rainbow Dash? What in the world are you—” “I’ve got the East side! Fluttershy, you’ve got the West.” Fluttershy glided by a moment later, winking at Rarity before speeding off. Rarity’s mouth hung open. “What are they doing?” Twilight trotted up to her side, smiling brightly. “Princess Luna mentioned you might need a little help from your friends tonight, Rarity.” “M-my… friends? Even after—” Pinkie bounced by with a jewel-encrusted camouflage helmet strapped to her head. “Less talky more searchy, Twilight! We’ve got a dragon to find!” Twilight nodded to Rarity. “Of course we’re your friends, Rarity, and we’re Spike’s friends too. Just think hard about where Spike might’ve gone and we’ll make sure the rest of the city is covered.” Rarity took a deep breath. She’d thank them all later, possibly with a completely new wardrobe apiece. For now she needed to think. “Where would Spike go in Canterlot… aside from leaving it, obviously. He’s clearly not enamored with the place, save for—” she gasped “—where’s the school?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You mean Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns? Why would Spike—” “Where?” Twilight pointed, and Rarity ran. City blocks flew by, each one largely resembling the last save for the exact placement of refuse. She’d seen the school once or twice before, just enough to have a sense for its architecture. Hopefully it was still standing. If Spike’s birthplace was nothing but rubble, she had no idea where he’d head next. At last the building’s three spires came into view in the brilliant moonlight. She rounded a corner, hooves pounding through dust, dirt, and trash without a single worry for how dirty she was getting, or who might see her half-starved form. Dirt could be washed off, and what she currently lacked in classical beauty she more than made up for in muscle; perhaps she’d been too hard on herself as well. Her furious pace slowed as she entered the school grounds. Each hoof had to be carefully planted to avoid the legion of hovels set up on the grass, lest she disturb the ponies asleep within. Her first job after meeting with Princess Celestia, she declared to herself, was to ensure that warm blankets were distributed all over the city. She’d carve up her own bedsheets if need be. A shadow flitted across the building’s garbage-strewn front staircase. Rarity came to a stop and managed a breathless whisper. “Spike?” The shadowed form stilled, and then drew closer. Muscle-bound stallions were all well and good, but Spike’s impossibly strong, scale-covered body held a different kind of alure, one that she’d clearly taken for granted. Spike stopped a few feet short, staring at her blankly. “Rarity? What’re you—” She rushed forward and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so very sorry for so many things, tonight in particular. I’ve let the tremendous stress we’re both under get in the way of good judgement.” He chuckled as his arms encircled her. “Did you think I wasn’t coming back or something?” Rarity froze. “Well I… Why else would you leave the castle late at night? I-I couldn’t possibly let that happen, for our last words to each other to be so… so…” Spike sighed. “I did think about it, but you’re right: things are just crazy right now, and I know they won’t be forever. Sometimes I’d take walks in The Pit when I needed to think hard about something, and… I’ve just got a lot to think about right now.” “Would you be so kind as to share? If not, I-I’ll hurry back the castle and leave you be… so long as you intend to return.” Spike broke the hug and stood facing her. “There’s something about Celestia that I didn’t tell you, about why I can't see her tomorrow. I meant to tell you before, but then other stuff came up and… I'm sorry I snapped at you at dinner.” “Don’t give such trivialities a second thought. You can tell me anything, Spikey. I swear it.” His gaze dropped to the ground. “When I left on the dragon migration, Celestia sort of gave me a mission to teach the other dragons about friendship. She said if anybody could help them get back to the way they used to be thousands of years ago, when the dragon and pony races were friendlier with each other, it was me. But… I failed. You saw where the dragons put me, and why. I failed, and if Celestia asks about it—” Rarity placed a hoof on his shoulder. “She’ll understand, Spikey.” “I guess, but she’s still going to be so disappointed in me.” “She won’t be, once I’m through explaining how you introduced me to friendship, and in so doing help save Equestria itself. If she is, then she’d not half the Princess she purports to be, and I’ll tell her so.” He shivered under her grip. “Do you really… you’d do that?” “How could I not? I’d prefer to do so with you by my side, of course.” “But what about… whatever comes next? I don’t know if I can stay in Canterlot forever. I know you said we’d talk about it later, but things are moving so fast. I’m scared that I’m going to wake up and we’ll have an apartment here or something, and I won’t say anything because I know it’s what you really want, but…” “Who said anything about living in Canterlot?” “You do, all the time! The only places you ever mention are Canterlot and Ponyville, and I know you don’t what to live in Ponyville, so…” Rarity shut her eyes and shook her head. “I most certainly do not, but… may I explain myself, at least?” “Okay, but… hang on.” While Rarity looked on, Spike gathered an armful of branches and wooden debris together and, with one fiery breath, brought one of their old home’s fixtures back to crackling life. Smiling, he offered her a seat. Blushing, Rarity joined him by the fire and pulled him close. The fire was pretty, but he gave off more than enough heat all on his own. She looked down at herself, slightly disgusted by the mess she’d made of her coat, and focused her attention on the cutie mark peeking through the grime. Her magic guided his nearest hand to it. “Did you ever wonder how I discovered my supposed special talent?” Spike nodded as his fingers brushed through her fur. “Yeah, but… you don’t talk about it, and I’ve heard it’s not always polite to ask, and—” “It wasn’t far from here, actually. As you know, I came to Canterlot at a young age and fell in with the art crowd, or at least tried to. The best I could manage was finding a job dusting in a gallery. That’s just what I was doing one quiet morning long before anypony else arrived; I was just finishing up when the sheer beauty of each painting struck me, and how much better the whole of the presentation would look if I rearranged them all. I wasn’t supposed to, and shortly thereafter I was in need of a new job… but that’s when I earned my cutie mark, and why I thought it merely related to the care and curation of art, and not the creation of it. I didn’t realize that the gallery itself had been my canvas, but worse still: the experience came without fanfare, without celebration, without friends, and without family. What’s supposed to be every filly’s best and brightest day was one of my worst and loneliest. My every day since then, up until Nightmare Moon arrived, was an effort to remake my life and Canterlot itself in such a way that would celebrate what I could do, what I could become. If I’ve talked about Canterlot more than is reasonable, it’s only because I haven’t been able to let go of it, to the notion that somehow I could still turn that one ruined day into the slow start of my inevitable rise to prominence and success, to make my cutie mark story… mean something.” She sucked in a breath of smokey air and sighed. “And here we are, huddled around a fire in front of boarded up school without any future prospects. My having misunderstood my own special talent for so long is the least of our troubles. It’s high time I move on… that we move on.” Spike shook his head. “It’s not that bad, Rarity. Really.” “Hmm? And how is that?” “There’s more than two places to live in Equestria. We can go anywhere, and wherever that is, you can start making dresses just like you’ve always wanted.” “I fail to see where we’ll secure the capital to embark on such an endeavor, unless you think Princess Celestia would be interested in bankrolling a middling art curator and unproven fashionista.” Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Remember the gold we took with us?” The saddlebags laying on the floor in their room sprang to mind. She’d forgotten that they were filled with treasure, no doubt another sign that their humble life really had improved her muscle tone. “But that’s your hoard, Spike. I didn’t carry it all this way just to squander it on attempting to start a business. Where do you intend to sleep, if not on a pile of gold? I confess I’ve gotten somewhat used to it too.” He answered with a shrug and a wink. “We’ll figure it out, right?” Her first impulse was to kiss him, and given the time and privacy she’d do just that. This particular moment called for something else, which happened to be nestled in her mane. The bent golden sewing needle floated through the air and hung over the fire’s heat. A little magically applied force was all it took to bend it further, curling the sharp point around until it slipped through the eye on the opposite side once and then once more. She dropped mangled needle into Spike’s palm and winked. “I believe your fire will do a better job at finishing it, but that’s a worthwhile start.” Spike looked through the little golden circle and shrugged. “What’s it supposed to be now?” Rarity’s magic took it up again and slipped it onto one of his fingers. “A promise, of sorts. Should I ever stop talking about how I feel or, worse still, stop listening to how you feel, give this back to me as a reminder. If I don’t realize my mistake then, then I truly have ceased to be the mare sitting with you now. I can’t promise that that will never happen… but I’ll do my very best to grow with you, not apart from you.” Spike closed his hand, and the ring caught the light like a small golden serpent coiling around his finger. A dragon tear landed on the knuckle next to it. “It’s beautiful, Rarity. But what if… what if I’m the one who needs the reminder?” Giggling, she kissed him on the cheek. “Well then, in due time you’ll have to find a ring for me, won’t you?”