Sometimes, you must think me a true sucker. A dragon, the most ancient of all races, pining for the love of a mortal unicorn. A little boy who needs a dictionary to spell thesaurus, and who only had the courage to confess a crush when it seemed gravity might not bend its law for the sake of love. Sometimes, you must think me a proper sap.
You of all ponykind know how intelligent I am. While I am still learning much of the pure knowledge that my guardian treasures, I try to have the common sense she often lacks. Yes, I am young, and prone to follies of youth such as petty jealousy over being replaced by a nocturnal bird. I still cringe at the memory of that stuffed rat and ketchup on the floor. Yes, I am immortal, at least from a common pony's perspective. I have walked among dragons almost as ancient as Equestria, and even the teenagers were usually older than dear little Ponyville. Why would I bother with a female who could only leave behind a horrible void when she passed on?
Because of the joy she gives me. The time I spend with her is not wasted in the pursuit of later reward. I find pleasure just being in her company. I do not trade my effort for her affection but add it toward her goals. When I labor for her, I am not a slave. She would do anything she asks me to, for I know she understands the cost and value of hard work, but I often can do it better and faster. Digging is a common example, fanning her at the spa a less common one. Even when the task is distasteful, her gratitude is enough to make it bearable. She never holds her affection over me, implying that I am unworthy but might be found acceptable if I contort myself to her whims, but is thankful for everything I do as I do it. Rarely she is stressed enough to snap at me, but she always apologizes shortly after. I have never worked for the promise of being found worthy, or toiled for scraps of attention like an unloved pet. That would sour with time, and could only end in pain. There are many things that bring me joy, so why do I prefer her company over most other pastimes?
Because she does not leach from me all other pleasure. There are times I cannot help her. Often Twilight has me employed in earning my room and board, usually by distracting her from a mathematical meltdown, or I simply need time to myself. She understands, never lets herself become upset over the trivial, and always carries herself as a lady. The value of sticking to my commitments is not lost on her, and she is always willing to help me when I am the one in need. I could wish that she used me as a dress-up doll less, but there are worse tortures that a boy can endure. Even then she only uses force and surprise to coerce me into frilly clothing. Rarely she begs, in that style she has perfected into an irrefusable demand, but she never threatens when she insists. When she kisses me, it is never to bend my will to hers, but always from pure gratitude and affection. Yes, she has a flair for the dramatic. She faints when she has misplaced a ribbon, wears a funeral shroud to mourn a dip in her career, and to describe her workroom as a disaster zone is like saying your sun is a tiny bit warm. I wish I could have seen her overreaction to the humble accommodation you offered her at the castle, I still giggle each time I read of it. She is strong on her own, and downright crazy. I adore that, for such is the madness of an artist. Perhaps I am just immunized thanks to my guardian's rolling insanity, but I find something attractive in a mare who throws herself so completely into her work. There are many artists I enjoy the company of, a certain disk jockey springs to mind, but I prefer this fashionista over all others because I have glimpsed her soul.
In recent memory, more recent than I prefer to remember, I nearly destroyed Ponyville. I wrote you a full report in response to your inquiry for more details than I provided in my first statement, and am very grateful that you covered the reconstruction costs. I was completely truthful in both scrolls, but time has allowed me to more objectively view those events. They are directly related to this matter. Shortly before my birthday, she visited the library in search of a book on old fashions. You know the rest, so I will not waste time with a chronology of events, nor will I spare myself by trying to make up an excuse. I would have eaten something beautiful, which was fully my right, but instead she turned it into something that will last much longer than a full belly. Then she saved me from destroying the town, and was too generous to take credit. She convinced all of us that I was really the one who cut down my own selfishness, and so was a hero for stopping the monster. Yes, I was the one who turned back from the path of greed, but without her I would have continued the rampage until you inevitably arrived. She took a beautiful gemstone that I saw only as food, and crafted it into an anchor. Then she cast away the spotlight so I would not be condemned by the entire town as a monster and given my just punishment. After she was through with her performance, I was the hero for overcoming the wretchedness of a dragon's nature. I had rejected a mind-eating greed, and with that noble act saved the town! That is her soul. She covered for my horrible mistake, and without her I would have been lost.
Which leads to my greatest point. She gives. It is her nature to give, be it charity from her boutique to ponies in need or several days to tail a bumbling baby dragon on his "quest of self-discovery". She makes nests for little birds every year, and puts up with a cat that seems eternally enthusiastic to test the thickness of my scales. Because she gives so much of herself, she understands the value of something when it is given to her, even such a small thing as a dragon's time. Whenever I give her my labor, she is grateful. She never expects it of me, or demands that I obey her to prove my love, but charms from me my greatest effort. That is my payment, and it is rendered as services are performed. The importance of these traits is such that I have listed them, rather than only stating that she is the Element of Generosity and expecting that to be reason enough. It is because of these traits she bears that Element, not the other way around. I love her because she is worthy, in spite of her flaws not in ignorance of them, and that love is its own reward. It fills me with strength, it lifts my feet off the ground, and it drives me to excel in everything I do. This is the capstone to my explanation, though there is one point that must be added atop like a cherry-red ruby.
She is beautiful. I saved this for last, though it was the first attribute to catch my attention. Beauty of the body is often temporary, and yet it matters so greatly to all living things. Yes, my affection began as a crush on somepony attractive. It survived because her heart, her mind, were even more beautiful. She says kind words about others' work when I can only think rotten ones, and never lowers herself to crudeness. If she were not beautiful I believe I could care for her similarly, but that beauty is entrenched in her personality. Age could wither her body, but I have seen enough old ponies to know that the spark of inner beauty never truly fades from those who carry themselves well. On the other claw, I do not lie to myself about the dangers of her duty to Equestria. Would she still be an outgoing artist if one of the Element Bearers' adventures cost her more than her tail? I do not know. But I know no scar could destroy the way I care for her. I would forever see the mare I first met in the Town Hall, and forever breathe righteous vengeance against whatever deprived the world of her beauty. That is not one of the pillars of this letter, merely a decorative gemstone atop a strong stonework.
This is my testimony. I love her almost as a hobby. If she ever welcomes further advances I will not see it as a race completed, a victory won, but as another lap to make. Love is a battle fought every day, though I know little of battle aside from those in books and one brief tussle against Diamond Dogs. If I do not show her love because I know I will outlive her, why should I do anything? I cannot measure my life by how long I live, or how long the things I invest in last, but rather how well I have lived. If I am the measurement, then nothing is worth my time, and I exist only to please myself and sleep. I am lazy, a bit of a sluggard about getting out of bed, but I know that time is precious. I will love her in the time she has, for it gives me strength and she earns my affection. Thinking deeply about these things scares me, I know you understand why. It does not feel right that a boy should have to think these things about those he cares for. That is part of the reason this letter has been so long in coming. I know that turning a blind eye to the future only makes it worse. One must make preparations, and then enjoy the moments as they pass. I am a continual firsthand witness to what stressing out over things that cannot be changed does to the mind. Just as I cannot blind myself to the future, I will not let it consume me. My heart only lets me conclude that she must be the measuring line of my life, not I. Selflessness is a key part of generosity, and a strong bulwark against greed. It also brings me to the final purpose of this letter.
The night of the Grand Galloping Gala was one of the worst of my life, though it ended well. I was left alone by those I counted as friends, and before leaving I saw the mare I cared for hunting your nephew's hoof for matrimony. I tried to convince myself that I wanted her to be happy, even if that meant losing her, and finally succeeded. I had a right to seek what made me happy, but understood that I could not force her to be with me when her heart belonged to another. If I sabotaged her evening with the Prince, I would never be able to forgive myself. So, after seeing there was no place for me at your side, and barely enough for Twilight, I left. It was not altruism, but self-defense. If I had stayed, I would have done something foolish in the name of making the "best night ever" a reality.
While I grew up in Canterlot, I remember you kept me away from him, so I knew little of the Prince save that he was handsome. Even when the others told me of Blueblood's behavior, I could not believe she endured so much. She never says a word about him, which speaks volumes. I wish I was of noble birth, for I would treasure her as he never could. I would treat her as a lady of artistry and enterprise who stooped down to be yoked with a most undeserving royal, but I am no prince. I do not know who my true parents are, but I know where my heart calls home. If there was some regal flair in my ancestry, it might strengthen my conviction that I am right for her. All I have to give her is a love that never dies. I will remember her, for that will give me strength, and I will mourn her, for she is worthy of a dragon's tears. Perhaps she will be waiting in the skies. I return to these troubling thoughts to make clear that I understand what this will one day mean for me. My heart tells me that love is a worthy cause. In support of this case, I will cite supporting evidence. A poet I know you will be familiar with, who mourned the passing of a dear friend:
"I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all."
If I do not love because I fear mourning, what am I but a lump of rock wrapped in a blanket?
I have spent considerable time thinking and writing these things because I know how unhealthy misunderstood affection can be. I did not wish to grieve you with the impression that I had fallen head-over-tail into an immature fondness for one of the element bearers, then tried to pursue her as I grew older without comprehending what love requires to transcend mere affection. I care for her, but it is a healthy care, and while Rarity might exploit me she always makes it worth my time. It is because I have time, oceans of it, that I am able to have this love for her. I write at length on this occasion because I seek your authorization, not merely your acceptance. I am just a boy, but I know how valuable the element bearers are to Equestria as a whole. These six ponies have saved the world almost as many times as I have talons. This is not a coincidence. You sent my guardian and I here to serve a purpose, not just to learn life lessons. The furthest thing from my mind is jeopardizing your plans with my greed.
In Service,
-Spike
Quotation from In Memoriam A. H. H., Alfred Tennyson