My Dear Student, Twilight Sparkle;

The operation was a success.
Three more suspected Sunset members have
been arrested at a rented house in Canterlot.
Dusk Tempest has revealed to me the association’s
more recent activities, and has filled in some of
the blanks regarding their history.
He proved surprisingly willing to co-operate
after witnessing his compatriot’s loss of magic.

The prisoners are on their way to the castle.
I do not yet know if they are leaders or not,
however we believe that one of them
is the acclaimed potioneer, Root Blacksap,
who you may know as the inventor of
the Draught of Foolishness.
If we have captured their inner circle
then I doubt we have anything further
to fear from the organization in future.

I will keep you posted.

With my best wishes,
Princess Celestia.

“Root Blacksap,” Twilight mused, shaking her head in astonishment. “I’ve got books of his. He’s amazing; I don’t see why he’d get involved with criminals like that, even if he is a unicorn.”

“Maybe he just thinks like they do,” Dash said with a shrug. “What the hay’s a Draught of Foolishness?”

“It’s a pretty tricky solution to mix up, apparently,” replied Twilight. “It’s his most famous invention; basically it does what it says on the tin. It makes the drinker overconfident, prone to make rash decisions, that sort of thing.”

“Fair enough. He was probably drinking the stuff when he joined up,” Dash remarked.

“Maybe,” Twilight smiled. “I just hope they’ve managed to round up the leader. We’ll have to see, I guess.”

Dash looked around at the library, briefly pondering continuing with her unpacking. The prospect did not appeal much, but her eyes widened as she had a better idea. “Hey, Twi’? Wanna go get dinner somewhere? Ya know, have a bit of a wind-down after…” She suddenly looked a little downcast. “After AJ an’ all.”

Twilight nodded. “I’d love to.” She gently touched Dash’s shoulder. “She’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“I know, I know,” Dash sighed. “It’s just kinda disappointing that she needs to come round at all.”

Spike looked up from his latest gem-cultivation project in the corner of the room, a tuning fork in his clawed hand. “Yeah, sure,” he replied, smirking. “I’ll defend it with my life if the book zombies come around.”

Twilight gave him a please be serious sort of look, but could not help smiling a little.

“Be right back,” Dash said, as an idea apparently occurred to her. “I just need to grab something.” She ran upstairs, and returned momentarily, stowing something carefully inside a small saddlebag, returning to Twilight’s side with a grin. “Oh, and Twi’?” She looked sideways at Twilight. “It’s my treat this time,” she prodded the unicorn jokingly in the chest. “No funny business, okay?”

“Thanks, Rainbow,” Twilight smiled and planted a light kiss on Dash’s cheek, which the pegasus returned, and they walked out of the library side-by-side, the door closing behind them. Spike made an affected gagging noise at the display of affection, as the door swung shut. Then, he turned back to the sapphire, running a critical eye over the sparkling surface.

“Rarity’s not getting this one when it’s finished,” he promised himself in a dark undertone.

Spike kept himself busy for the next half hour or so, throwing together a daisy sandwich and sneaking a few amethysts that he was probably supposed to be saving. He was a little jumpy, not without reason. He kept imagining that he saw Sunset kidnappers looming up outside the window, or protruding from behind the sofa. Shaking himself, mentally, he crunched down the last amethyst, relishing the smooth, not-quite-cinnamon flavour.

“Come on,” he told himself. “Don’t be such a baby. We’ve got the Princess looking out for us, and half of those unicorns are in Canterlot dungeon right now. It’s not like Sunset are gonna come knocking on the door.”

With a startled and inarticulate gurgle of surprise, Spike leapt behind the sofa, and lay there on the floorboards for a few moments, quivering.

Whoever was at the door knocked again, a gentle tapping sound. Hang on a second, Spike thought, as soon as his breathing was under control and his ability for rational thought had returned. I don’t think kidnappers knock. Just answer the door!

Spike stood up, peering over the sofa, then hopping over the top and walking nervously across the floor. What if they’re trying to surprise me? What if they stick a bag over me and run off? He breathed in deeply, holding a small, searing fireball in his mouth, ready to fling it at the face of the pony behind the door if they seemed suspicious. Gritting his teeth, his heart pounding, he pulled the door open.

In Spike’s books at that moment, this was preferable to kidnapping, but only by a slight margin. There stood Rarity in the doorway, looking down at his inflated cheeks in bemusement. For a moment, he was sorely tempted to release the fireball and thermally restyle her mane a little, but he resisted the urge, and swallowed. He felt the fireball fizzle out in his throat, shedding layers until it boiled itself away to nothing.

Rarity seemed a little taken aback by his less-than-warm greeting, but looked past him into the library. “Um, I’ve just come to see Twilight,” she said, uncertainly. “I wanted to give her and Dash a couple of lovely little matching coats I made for them earlier,” she gestured to her saddlebags, from which protruded the tip of an intricate hem.

“Oh.” There was a silence, that billowed in the cold air between them for a few short moments. “I’ll just… I’ll go then.” Rarity turned, her eyes confused at Spike’s passive-aggressive hostility, and began to walk slowly away.

Spike could not hold himself in check. His frustration reached a boiling point, and he called out after her. “Sorry they’re not in! It must be so disappointing for you not to get all the latest gossip to spread around!”

Rarity turned her head back around to face him, her eyes widening. “Excuse me?”

Try as he might, he could not stop himself. He might have protected Rarity from Fluttershy, but that had not been for Rarity’s sake, and his sense of betrayal had increased tenfold now that he saw her face-to-face again. “Hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you come in anyway? Have a cup of tea? Maybe you can charm some more secrets out of trusting little idiots like me, eh?” His voice was cold and caustic.

Rarity looked indignant for a moment, and then it seemed as if the pieces clicked together in her mind. Her face fell, and she clapped a hoof to her mouth. “Oh Spike, I’m sorry…”

Spike laughed, bitterly. “No, you’re sorry you got caught.” He took a step closer, his voice low. “You promised me. You told me that I’d taken you into my trust, and that you wouldn’t betray mine. You know I’d tell you anything, and what’s the first thing you do?”

“You go waltzing off and tell Fluttershy all the juicy details!” Spike cut across her, his voice rising angrily. “You know something? That was the only reason I was at Fluttershy’s a few days ago.” He knew that Rarity was not aware of that awful night’s events, and that he should probably keep it quiet, but he was not feeling particularly reasonable at that moment. “Because I knew I couldn’t trust you! Thanks to you, Fluttershy could have been killed!”

“You know what? Forget it. You don’t deserve to know.” Spike spun on his heel and stalked back into the library, slamming the door behind him.

For a few minutes, he paced up and down inside the tree, angry puffs of smoke emanating from his nostrils. Now that he thought about it, the thing that angered him the most was not the fact that Rarity had betrayed him, but the way that her actions had brought down danger on Fluttershy. He knew that she could not have known, but right then it did not matter.

He imagined if he had hesitated a moment longer in Fluttershy’s cottage before leaping on Swift. What if he had been given time to complete the blow that he had aimed at the canary pegasus? The alternative scene played out sickeningly in his head. For Fluttershy, gentle, kind Fluttershy, to have been hurt because he had been too blinded by his stupid crush to keep his secrets to himself… The thought was unbearable, and he realized that as much of his anger was directed towards himself as it was towards Rarity.

Even now, after all of this, he had acted in anger and put Rarity on the scent of another piece of news that Twilight and Dash wanted keeping secret. He needed to fix this, right now. He had to go after her.

Reluctantly, he pulled the front door open again, planning on heading over to Carousel Boutique and hoping that she would let him in. It had begun to rain heavily, and he was expecting to see that Rarity had gone home in anger to escape the weather, and her own guilt. The sight that he was confronted with, however, surprised him.

Rarity was lying on the cobblestones, her head buried in her hooves, sobbing. Her tears mingled with the falling raindrops, and she heard the squeak of the opening door. She looked up at Spike through bloodshot eyes, shaking a little and still crying. “I… I’m sorry…” she choked out, shyly breaking eye contact and pawing nervously at the ground.

“Come inside,” Spike said, quietly. He could not help but feel sorry for the bedraggled and upset Rarity, even though he knew that she had brought it on herself. However, she had not left, and instead had chosen to stay and face whatever came next. Perhaps that meant it was worth giving her a chance. “You’ll catch your death out there.”

Gratefully, the white unicorn got shakily to her hooves, and walked inside, her head stooped low. She sat down, shivering on the rug, her eyes red and still tearful. “Hang on a moment,” Spike said, running up the stairs to the bedroom. He returned a few moments later, dragging a spare blanket from Twilight’s room behind him, and handing it to Rarity. “Here you go.”

“Th-thankyou,” she sniffed, wrapping the blanket around herself, and dabbing roughly at her eyes. She looked at him, almost at eye level due to her sitting position. “I really am sorry, Spike,” she whispered. “I know it means nothing now, and I know you’ll hate me. But I am.” Her eyes were almost pleading. “I didn’t tell anypony else, I swear. I told Fluttershy it was me who walked in on them.”

Spike sighed. “Surely you knew that’d never have made any difference. Imagine if Twilight had gone to tell Fluttershy about her and Dash being together. Fluttershy could just have told them what you told her. That she already knew they were together. Because you’d ‘walked in on them’. The story would’ve fallen apart in a second, and Twilight would’ve realized straight away that it was me who blabbed. She trusts me; I don’t want to spoil that.”

Rarity looked at the floor. “I know. I was so, so stupid to tell Fluttershy. And I’m not going to ask what you meant earlier, about Fluttershy. You’re right. She can tell me if she wants to, but I don’t deserve to know.” She met Spike’s eyes again, fleetingly. “I just hope that you can understand why I did it.”

“That’s the thing, Rarity.” Spike sighed. “I can’t understand. You knew how important it was to me that this stayed quiet, and then you go and tell Fluttershy. I just don’t understand why you’d do that.”

Rarity chuckled, quietly and humourlessly. “Yes you do, of course you do. Remember when you told me? You knew how important it was to keep your secret. You didn’t want to betray the trust of your friend, but you were with me. You were with a pony that you’d tell anything. A beautiful, dangerous pony from whom you couldn’t keep a single secret. That’s how you felt, isn’t it?”

Spike nodded, slowly, his eyes wide. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s exactly it.” He looked confused. “How could you have known that?”

Rarity closed her eyes, and they were once again lined in glistening tears. “That’s how I feel around Fluttershy.”

There was silence for a few seconds, as she let it sink in. Spike blinked, making sense of what Rarity had told him, as the pieces clicked together in his brain. It made perfect sense. Of course it did. Rarity had betrayed his trust in exactly the same way that he had betrayed Twilight’s. He had never for a moment believed that he would be capable of letting Twilight down in that way, but now he understood the short-sightedness that love can cause.

Rarity nodded. “She’s understanding, kind… beautiful. And it's all so effortless, when I’m around her everything I do feels tacky and affected by comparison. Of course I fell for her. How could I not?” She looked down at the floor again. “I know it’s useless. She only likes stallions; she’s made that much perfectly obvious. I can’t tell her, I’m not going to drive a wedge between us like that.” Rarity blushed. “You know how shy she is. If she suspected that I thought of her in… that way… she’d never be comfortable with me again.”

She sighed. “So, there you go. That’s the best explanation I can give you. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I just hope that you can understand.”

Spike nodded, slowly, still taken by surprise. Despite everything, he was a little disappointed at the news that Rarity’s affections were directed distinctly non-draconically, but at least this removed the confusion that had comprised so much of his sense of hurt. “I understand,” he said, quietly. “I’ll do my best to forgive you.” He shrugged. “I guess I’d be kind of a hypocrite not to.”

“Just one thing,” Spike said, as an afterthought occurred to him. “About Fluttershy, what I said earlier, that she might have been… hurt.” He changed the last word on an impulse.

Rarity nodded, and he continued. “You’ll know all about it eventually. All of you will. But trust me; it’s better for you not to get mixed up in the middle of this right now.” He paused for a second. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my secret to share.”

“I understand.” Rarity smiled at him, almost sentimentally. “You’re growing up, Spike.”

Spike chuckled, although he felt a little sad inside at the truth of her words. “Had to happen someday, I guess.”

The restaurant Trottensons was busy this evening, the flare of candles dotting the dimly-lit room from place to place, and the low buzz of conversation dancing off the walls. Twilight and Dash had been intending to try somewhere new, but had decided to seek this place out again when the weather pegasi began stocking up rainclouds above the town. In the end, they were both glad that they had done so. The food was every bit as good as last time, and both ponies still relished one another’s company for every moment that they were together.

It seemed that they had discussed everything over the course of the meal, ranging from Sunset and the upcoming record attempt, to the source of Dash’s uncanny waffle-making abilities.

Swallowing the last mouthful of her meal, Dash looked across the table at Twilight, who still had a little left on her plate. “This place is awesome,” Dash said, smiling at Twilight.

Twilight nodded in agreement. “By the way,” she said, curiously, “what was it you ran upstairs for just before we left?”

“Oh, that?” Dash paused. “I wanted to show you this. Give you a bit of an explanation, ya know? Thanks for not asking about it earlier.” She reached into her saddlebag which lay beneath the table, unclasping the buckle, and withdrew the tarnished, silver necklace that Twilight had noticed earlier on the bedside table.

Twilight leaned closer to get a better look at the oval-shaped locket. “I’m guessing this really means something to you.”

“Yeah. It does,” Dash replied, looking at the locket as if it were solid gold. “When I was ‘round at my house picking stuff up, I found this in a drawer an’ it got me thinking. Looking back, this thing’s the reason I came to Ponyville in the first place.”

“I know,” Dash chuckled. “Doesn’t look important, does it?” With a deft motion of her hooves, she clicked the latch open, and swung the small door on the front ajar.

Twilight squinted at the tiny, faded photograph within, and gasped. The picture was yellowed in the corners, and depicted a pale ochre unicorn mare, a shy smile on her lips, and quick, intelligent eyes that shone vividly even through the veil and ravage of time. What had surprised Twilight, however, was her mane. It was a lengthy shock of curls, and in it was every colour of the rainbow spectrum, framing her round face. When she looked closer, the mare’s eyes were a pure, soft magenta that was breathtakingly familiar.

When Twilight looked up, Dash was smiling slightly. “Is that…?” Twilight asked, her voice trailing off.

“It made things a bit difficult sometimes. But in the end, her an’ Dad went to visit Canterlot University specially to ask a favour. The Professors there agreed, and they cast a permanent cloud-walking spell on her, so she could move in with him in Cloudsdale. That was before he went… downhill. They never married or anythin’, but I came along anyway.” Dash sighed. “I got her mane, her eyes… her name. It wasn’t long after I was born that Dad started going off the rails. He was jealous of me, even when I was a foal. I took up all of Mom’s time, just like foals always do. I guess he couldn’t take that.”

She looked down at the faded image, a wistful smile on her face, the memories clearly causing her a discomfort that she tried to hide. Twilight reached for her hoof, holding it gently between hers. “You don’t have to go on, if you don’t want to. I don’t mind,” she murmured, reassuringly, but Dash shook her head.

“I’d rather you knew,” she replied. “You already know about my Dad, about what he did… But do ya remember I told you that me an’ Fluttershy left flight school at the same time, and came here?”

Twilight nodded. “I think so. You and Fluttershy both quit, and she wanted to set up a place down here, so you came with her.”

“Yeah,” Dash affirmed. She looked a little downcast, the light from their table’s candle flickering in her eyes. “I left something out.” She held up the locket, gazing at it in the candlelight, watching it swing back and forth in mid-air. “Did I mention I stole this? One weekend, Dad was in a mood, like he always was. This was one of the things that Mom’d left behind when she went and left us, and for some reason Dad kept it around. I kinda liked it, it was worth something to me ‘cos of the memories. Mom gave it to Dad for Hearth’s Warming the year I was born, ya see.” Dash sighed. “Anyway, Dad kept sayin’ how he was gonna pawn it, that he wanted anything left of her to be out of the house. Neither of us ever saw her again after she left, and I was still sore at her for leavin’ me alone with him, but I figured that she’d had her reasons.”

Dash moved her other forehoof up onto the table, so that it was clasping Twilight’s in return, as if the unicorn were an anchor holding her in place. Her eyes were locked onto Twilight’s, almost unblinking. “So, I took it, the night before the school week started again. I hid it in my bag. I didn’t normally come back for the weekends, but this time he’d wanted me to. Dunno why, he had these weird whims sometimes, maybe he just wanted to have a go at me. So, I brought it back to flight school, and I don’t think he ever even realized it was gone. I kept it hidden in my room, the only pony who I showed it to was Fluttershy. That was rule one in that place,” she snorted a little. “Hide as much of yourself as you can. Let something personal out, they’d tear you to pieces with it.”

“I know the feeling,” Twilight nodded sympathetically, remembering the casual cruelty and strict, childish hierarchy of the other foals at the School for Gifted Unicorns.

“Anyway, stupid me, I had it out in the corridor this one time. I was feelin’ kind of down, so I’d dropped it into my bag that morning. That way I’d have it with me for a bit of support. I was walking back to the room, an’ this filly, I think her name was Ivy something… she grabbed it as she went past.”

Dash nodded. “I dunno why, there were some ponies there who were just like that.” She dropped her voice. “I went after her, but we’d just had track work so I wasn’t up to much. So, she pins me against one of the lockers and sort of looks at me. She checks my face for cuts and bruises, and when she doesn’t find any she says ‘huh, looks like your old man’s not doing his job, Dashie’…”

Twilight gasped, feeling an ice-cold surge of anger. “How dare she?” she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice quiet in the crowded restaurant.

Dash shrugged. “It’s in the past now. I never did find out how she knew about my Dad, though… So anyway, she gives me a smack in the face, just for the hell of it I guess, and walks off with the locket. There was a bunch of ponies around, just watching. I guess they wanted to see a fight, but I wasn’t going anywhere fast so they all got bored and moved on.”

“But… but you got it back?” Twilight gestured, wide-eyed, to the locket that Dash was even now holding. “You must have done.”

Dash looked sadly on the table. “I wasn’t the one who got it back,” she said, in a small voice. “I asked Fluttershy to come over to my room, so I could see her and get the cut on my face cleaned up a bit. I didn’t want to tell her what’d happened, I just thought it’d make things worse. She was really worried of course, she patched me up, ya know how she is. In the end I told her what’d happened. I told her what Ivy had said.”

“’Shy went kind of quiet. She was completely calm, she made sure I was okay, and that the cut wasn’t still bleeding, then she left. I felt really bad, I thought I’d upset her by telling her about it.” Dash paused. “I waited there for a while, wondering if I should follow her back to her room, then ‘Shy came in again. I can’t really explain how she looked… It was like her eyes were haunted. She didn’t say anything, she just dropped the locket down beside me, and apologized in this tiny little whisper. I didn’t know what for. Then she left, before I could say anything. I went up to her room, but she wasn’t there. I couldn’t find her anywhere.”

Dash gripped Twilight’s hoof tighter. “Then, the rumours started. Like they always do. Ivy was in the infirmary, with a broken jaw.” Twilight winced, not feeling sorry for the injured Ivy, but still a little shocked at the implication. Dash paused, apologetically. “Ivy grassed, of course… None of the teachers there liked Fluttershy anyway, they never thought that she had the ability to belong there. Long story short, it was all the excuse that they needed.” Breaking Twilight’s gaze, Dash stared thoughtfully into the candle’s flame for a few seconds.

“They threw her out,” she murmured. “She’s always asked me not to talk to her about that day again, and I never did. I left too, and came with her, of course. I felt like it was my fault that she got expelled, so I came along to try and make things right. She asked me not to throw my education away, but I owed her that much.” Dash shook hear head. “I never worked out why ‘Shy went to that place at all. She always said that it was her choice, and maybe it was. Whatever the truth, she never seemed sorry to be out of there.”

She held up the locket, and Twilight stared at for a few moments, as if seeing it anew. “So, that’s the story behind this old thing. I’d always planned to head out and rent a place in lower Canterlot once I’d finished flight school, but ‘Shy came here, so I came here too. The rest’s history, I guess.” She smiled a little at Twilight. “On top of it all, I met you. So y’know something? Totally worth it.”

Twilight blushed, giving Dash’s hoof a squeeze. She was surprised at the timid Fluttershy’s frightening capabilities, but not so much after seeing the way that she had attacked the unicorn in her house. “You really do stick with your friends, don’t you?” She murmured.

Dash leaned in, close to Twilight’s ear. “It has a way of working out for the best,” she whispered, apparently forgetting the public nature of their current seating, and lightly kissed the tip of the ear, smiling slightly as she felt it twitch beneath her lips.

“Thanks for telling me this, Rainbow,” Twilight said, softly. She still felt incredibly happy and relieved that Dash trusted her enough to share these times from her past with her, without fear. “I’m so glad you came here.”

Dash smiled. “So am I, Twi’.” She felt as if another toxin had been flushed from her bloodstream, another strand of her past shedding its cruel thorns and falling into quiet acceptance and reconciliation.

As she stared into her love’s shining, violet eyes, she realized just how true her words had been.

A Bluebird's Song

by Ardensfax

A Problem Shared