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// I will love you forever 
// Story: Spike's Centennial 
// by CinnamonFritter 
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	Spike carefully rolled up the scroll and set it on one of the currently vacant shelves, sniffling.
Pinkie nosed gently at Spike’s chest. “You know, if it hurts too much, we can take a break. I bet the next batch of cookies will be out of the ovens soon at Sugarcube Corner.”
Spike shook his head. “No… I have to do this.” He reached into the hidden chamber, lifting up another scroll. He carefully unfurled it, and began to read.


My Dearest Assistant and Beloved Little Brother Spike:
My heart goes out to you, on this night. Reality has reared its ugly head, and what has been known cannot be simply wiped away by time.  Everypony knows that Everypony dies. It’s something we all consciously know. But when you realize the implications, that someone you love will be gone from this world, this knowledge sinks in and becomes real in the most terrible way. I am an old mare, though you’d better not say that to my face. I know what will happen to me. I know what will happen to all of my friends. And I know, someday, in the distant future, you’ll finally join us. I will try to prolong myself, if just for a little while longer, to put off that dark day where I have no choice but to break your heart. I heard you, though you thought I was asleep. I am glad you have learned to voice your feelings again, even if it took this much of a shock.
Sincerely, Twilight Sparkle.


Spike sniffled a bit, wiping his nose on one leathery wing as he stared at the parchment in his claws. He knew what she was talking about.
Somewhere along the way, he’d apparently decided he was too old to say it. Perhaps it was as his wings were growing in, but even before then Spike had been more hesitant and embarrassed to say it.
There had been a time when he’d say it whenever he got a cookie, or whenever he got to stay up late, but like many colts do, Spike toned down his enthusiasm, became more stoic, when he wasn’t moody.
While he never got as bad as some other adolescent dragons they’d met, mostly through good guidance by a certain purple unicorn, he wasn’t the easiest being to live with, spending more and more time alone in his new room with Peewee. He’d sigh dramatically when asked to do library work, and slouch at the returns desk when he had to be on duty. He’d eat as much as he could get away with, and it seemed sometimes every day he was getting ganglier.
So, a typical teenager.
Time continued to pass. Adventures still happened. The world didn’t wait for a teenage dragon, or for a unicorn who was starting to grow gray in the mane.
One day, while ascending the stairs, Twilight collapsed. Before he realized what was happening, Spike was at her side, scooping her into his arms. “Twilight, are you alright?”
Twilight sighed and nodded. “I didn’t realize how tired today made me.”
Spike looked at the pony who’d been there all his life, who hatched him, who Celestia had entrusted with raising him once she was old enough. And now he realized how old and tired she looked.
“Do you want me to carry you up to your room, Twilight?” Spike asked, his voice quavering.
For a moment Twilight looked like she was going to be stubborn, then her face softened, looking up at the dragon. “Yes… that’s the best thing to do for now.”
Spike nodded, and stood upright, carefully ducking his head down as he ascended the stairs, and slipped through her doorway, into the restricted books section which sat below the loft that was Twilight’s bedroom. He carefully carried her up the second flight of stairs, and set her down on her bed. “Is there… is there anything else I can do, Twilight?” He swallowed nervously.
Twilight smiled to him, and stretched out, her joints cracking and popping. “Well, it might be nice to have some company. Why don’t you read with me?” Her horn alighted, and multiple books glided into the room, starting to circle around them.
Spike didn’t look at the titles, he just grabbed one at random. “Alright, Twilight.”
Twilight chose a book of her own, and sent the others away, opening the book and starting to read.
Spike opened his book, and looked at the pages blankly. His mind was not on the symbols on the page, but on Twilight.
He’d always known that dragons age slower, and live far longer than Ponies. It was an undeniable fact. But…
He’d never realized what that meant for him and Twilight. He always felt somewhere inside that she’d always be there for him, even when he didn’t appreciate it.
But now he knew their days together were numbered. He gulped a bit. How long had he been staring at the page? He looked up, and Twilight’s cheek was resting on the page. His eye frantically darted to her side. It shifted, rose, and lowered with her breathing. He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d held.
Spike stood up. It wouldn’t do to leave her on top of her covers. It would get cold tonight. But he didn’t want to move her either.
The adolescent dragon walked around to the other side of the bed, and slowly crawled up onto Twilight’s bed. Dragons are warm. He’d help keep Twilight warm. He looked over the graying streaks in Twilight’s mane, the subtle wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes and lips.
Spike sniffled, and felt a burning tear roll down his cheek, and fall onto the bedding, steaming in the cool evening air. The dragon draped one of his broad wings over Twilight, leaving her head exposed, and then curled his long neck down to rest next to the book she used as a pillow. After so many years, he said it again.
“I love you, Twilight.”