Me leaving is the last thing you need to worry about.
Hard. Not the softness of a bed, not the firmness of cave rock, but cold, dense, lifeless concrete.
You can go back to Ponyville and knock yourself out trying to appeal to those morons! As for me? I’m done.
Darkness, both in body and mind. Legs unmoving, eyes sealed shut, wings splayed out lifelessly.
I’m shallow, I’m not a good friend. Everyone has their flaws. I just happen to have more than most.
Silence. No songs of morning birds, no rustling of leaves in the wind, just a skeletal breathing accompanied by a hollow reverb, like that of a damp, lonely cave.
I’m making a promise right here. No matter what happens, I’m getting you back to Ponyville.
A gasp echoed through the concrete cavern, shattering the eerie solitude. Piece by piece, the wheel of life began to turn again. A twitch of the claw, a soft groan, and, inside, the first faint spark of an exasperated mind.
Damn you he’s not an animal!
Anger, fear, hopelessness, a restless sleeper trying to awaken only to be caught between the throes of their own nightmare and the sweet freedom of awakening. The twitches grew in frequency and size, the cogs of memory sifted off their dust.
I’m going to make you regret coming here. Going to make you regret letting me back up. Going to make you regret ever joining the army!
Pain. Rips, tears, bruises, maybe even broken bones sending a shock of agony across every nerve. Despite a parched mouth, the metallic taste of blood lingered within.
Damn you... damn you...
Despair. Defeat. Collapse.
Just... don’t kill Spike... please... all my fault...
Another pass of the wheel and the lids lifted, a pair of amber eyes peering into the darkness. Gilda blinked rapidly to accommodate her vision before taking in her surroundings.
Mere inches from her beak, long, thick bars of steel descended from the ceiling to the floor, so finely meshed that she was certain not a single talon would fit in-between them. Shifting her head slightly allowed her to see farther past the bars, a long gray corridor extending into the distance only to end with an ominous wooden door. The only source of light, a barred window engraved into the door, cast small, precious beams that danced throughout the corridor, highlighting a multitude of other inlaid cells.
A prison.
She closed her eyes, a weak sigh hissing out. Everything about the situation called for panic, demanded that she fight back against her captors, screamed for her to tear apart the bars, find Spike, and escape.
But something stopped her. Of course she was exhausted, but her restraint was not physical. Something lingered in her thoughts, reassuring, soothing.
What is wrong with me? It’s over. We lost. I broke my promise to Spike. Spike...
The sergeant’s words rang through her head, his casual, morbid threats all too real.
Please no... if he’s... I’ll never...
Still, peace.
What is wrong with me?? Am I fine screwing over my only friend now? Probably getting him killed? Or... am I missing something...?
A sound. A clanking of metal from the door threw aside the prison’s mute cover. Gilda held her breath, straining her ears. Muffled voices seeped in, barely breaching her hearing’s threshold.
“...this area is off limits. Only stationed prison guards and the captain can-”
“Yeah yeah, keep it to yourself, I’ve got a signed letter from the princess herself right here, so outta my way!”
Alarms went off inside her. Not from the mention of a princess, which the Griffon Kingdom obviously lacked, but from a small, minute detail.
That voice.
“A letter from the princess...?”
“Hello! I’m holding it in front of your face! Are you gonna let me in or do I need to go get the princess myself?”
This is a dream. This is a nightmare.
“No! That won’t be necessary madam. The prisoner is in the last cell on the left. If you find yourself in any danger, just shout.”
“Oh shut up.”
The door creaked open as Gilda instinctively backed away from the bars.
Not here. Not now.
Hooves fell upon stone, the distinct noise of clopping bouncing throughout the cells.
Go away.
Louder. Closer.
Why you? Where’s Spike? Bring him in! Or if he’s still injured, how about that guard out front? Hell, even that annoying pink monstrosity. But not you.
Her world slowed down as a cyan leg came into view. Rainbow hair came next, and, finally, a curious, excited, concerned, energetic face.
She looked away quickly, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Hey, what’s up! Talk about long time no see huh?” the visitor started, moving the rest of her body into full view.
I wonder how pathetic I look to her, lying here broken because I wanted to come back to this stupid country.
Dash shuffled her hooves slightly. “Heh, trying to pull the old sleeping trick on me are you?” she joked with a small, fake chuckle. “Well it didn’t work back in flight camp and it ain’t working now.”
Don’t try and bring up good memories with me, asshole. Those days are over.
Several more tense moments passed before the mare lifted a hoof and for a brief second Gilda thought she had won out against her old friend. Instead, Dash slammed a hoof against the metal bars, causing her to flinch in reflex.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she snorted, bringing her face closer to the bars. “Hey! Pegasus who saved your life here! Can you at least show a little respect? Maybe fill me in on what you’ve been up to since the last time I saw you? Has to be something big to make a full-fledged Empire squadron jump you like that.”
A flip switched within her mind, the puzzle of how she came to be here falling into place.
* * *
“Damn you...” Blood spat from her beak. “Damn you...” Deep red gashes covered both feathers and fur.
“Tch tch tch,” the sergeant clucked, shaking his head. He shoved her with a single claw, rolling her back straight, causing every inch of her body to erupt in pain. “You know, you didn’t have to fight me. I just gave you the offer!” He raised a claw to his beak. “Of course, I suppose even if I had warned you, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Oh well! Sipid! Dagen! Tie her up.” His claw swept across the dozen other squad members. “The rest of you, get ready to move out!” A bored sigh escaped his beak as he turned to the unconscious dragon. “Now what to do with you?”
Gilda gave one last desperate struggle, only to be easily suppressed by the two soldiers. She had failed, and Spike’s life was on the line now. All options had been ripped away. Any remaining hope had been grounded. It was time for her to put aside her pride, put aside her vanity, put aside her rage. With pleading eyes, she looked up to the sergeant.
“Just... don’t kill Spike... please... all my fault...” Her eyes fell upon her fallen companion, his purple scales having gained their own fresh set of cuts to go along with the multitude of scars he had accumulated over the past few days.
Funny. Before he met me, he was flawless. Now he’s a map of injuries. It all started with that one gash in his stomach... with one cave collapse... with one abandonment. Now he’s paying the price for what I did. Beg, you bitch! Save him!
“Please...”
“Silence!” The sergeant spun around, pure rage in his eyes. “I can’t believe how damn pathetic you are!” His gaze simmered down to a smoulder, the rage unchanged. Gilda whimpered as he grabbed the dragon by his unbroken arm and hoisted him up like a rag doll. “I’m done with games. I’ve been being nice up until now. I’ve been trying to treat you like some little runaway girl. No more.” He shook Spike and pointed at her. “Do you understand the hell you put me through? You made me look like a moron! Incompetent! Almost demoted! And yet here you are now, begging for this animal’s life, like your words are worth anything to me. Tell me —” He placed a claw across the dragon’s neck, “— how much does this beast mean to you?”
Gilda stammered, choked. What should she say? A lot? He would rip out his throat to spite her. Nothing at all? Then he would rip out his throat anyway, because Spike would mean nothing more than extra baggage.
“I... don’t know.”
The large griffon narrowed his eyes, his razor talon unmoving. “Even when you were skulking around in the barracks, I knew something was wrong with you. What is it like? To wander through life with no loyalties, no direction, no purpose?”
Silence.
“That’s why you joined the army, no?” Realization dawned on him. “You wanted to belong, wanted something to latch onto so you wouldn’t be such a worthless piece of shit.” He lifted Spike forward, shaking him once again. “Is that what this thing is for, too? Some poor creature you’re leeching off of to make yourself feel better, to feel needed?”
Gilda longed to cry out, deny everything he said. Instead, she let out a single sob.
“Amazing.” The sergeant placed his talon back on Spike’s neck. “I guess I’ll go ahead and put this poor bastard out of his misery, then.” He sighed. “I’ll never know if you were acquaintances, friends, or if you had a bestiality fetish, but I like to think that death is a better alternative to having the life sucked out of you by some evil bi—”
It was as if a cannonball struck the sergeant’s chest, tearing him away from his hostage and sending him further into the plains. Spike’s body fell to the ground.
Spike!
A giant windstorm kicked up as Gilda dragged herself across the cropping, looking over him in horror. Blood poured from an incision at the base of his neck, the sergeant’s talon having left a long gash as he was torn away. She gently placed her head against the dragon’s chest. No gurgling, thank Andune, but shallow, weak breaths. Half of her face was splotched red by Spike’s blood as she stood back up. The wound may not have pierced his throat, but it was far worse than she had assumed.
I need something, anything!
She covered the wound with her own fur, searching desperately for a more effective gauze. Black blurs smashed into each other all around her, a disturbed hive of wasps throwing everything into chaos. Calm winds whipped into harsh gales, the clear sky clouded with dust, and the gently swaying plains grass began to dance violently, mimicking the battle above.
Grass... of course, the Vivaxacis! I still have some in my... bag?
Sure enough, there it was, lying in the middle of the cropping, bathed in moonlight. Had she been carrying it this whole time? Was she so tired that she —
Who cares? Get that plant!
Gilda staggered forward, falling down to four knees as she pried open the sack. Parchment leaf? No. Map? No. There it was, lying between her gem and the picture of Dash. She pulled the strip of healing plant out and began crawling back to Spike. The storm raged on overhead, growing fiercer by the moment as the combat intensified. For every order barked, a scream of pain answered back only to be instantly drowned out a second later by another order. The cycle continued, loud, confusing, yet in some strange way, uniform.
She ignored them. All of her attention was held on wetting this damn leaf. Stopping the blood. Saving her friend. The Vivaxacis fought against her parched tongue, her mouth already dried since their brief stop at the river. Dark splotches that Gilda could only assume were her own blood laced the plant as she removed it, satisfied. Just as she had done three days before, she placed the strip upon his neck, wrapping it around like a makeshift necklace, double checking to make sure it would stick. What if it fell off? What about Spike’s broken arm? What about his other cuts?
Wait. What the hell is going on? Who attacked the sergeant? Is it —
Her vision flashed as she blacked out, waking mere moments later. Something had hit her, throwing her from Spike’s side. She struggled to stand.
He needs me! Whatever these things are can go and fu —
Another hit, this time from the side. Any air she had left was knocked from her lungs, leaving her beak agape in a breathless gasp. She rose again, legs quivering.
Another hit to her head. Orders, screams, battle, all faded into a dull roar as she fought to stay conscious. She didn’t even try to get up, instead turning her head to see the stars.
What is going on? Can’t anything go right anymore? I have to get Spike... need to get away from the sergeant... Equestria is right there...
Each distinct spark in the sky blurred together, forming a soft, silver glow that coaxed her into sleep.
I can’t. Not now... not when...
Before her eyes glazed over, a loud thud sounded from her side, multi-colored strings swinging into view. Her visitor shouted, whatever words they had said falling upon deaf ears. Finally, she gave into the temptation, allowing sweet forgone, sleep to embrace her.
* * *
And now she was here. In a cell. Even worse, she knew the one mare she had sworn to never, ever rely on again was responsible for saving her life. Damn luck. “Where’s Spike?” she croaked, still refusing to move.
“Huh? Spike?” Dash asked her in confusion. “Oh yeah, what was up with that anyways? I mean you were both being attacked by the same patrol. That wasn’t just coincidence, was it?”
Gilda scowled, her face hidden from Dash’s view. “Where. Is. Spike.”
“Whoa, okay, chill out.” Gilda could see her old friend raise her hooves in defense. “He’s fine. Well, kind of. He was in really bad shape when we found him, broken arm, lots of cuts and bruises, basically everything bad you can think of.” Rainbow Dash waved a hoof towards the door, regaining her confident smile. “But since the princess is so freakin’ awesome, she and the doctors have already almost finished healing him up. He won’t fully recover for a long time, but at least he’ll be able to walk.”
She wanted to react. Let out a sigh of relief. Ask if she could see him.
“Good.”
The word lingered on, as if the pony had some false hope that Gilda might follow it up with some light conversation. Nothing. A minute passed and the mare squirmed.
“Anyways,” Dash said, trying to meet Gilda’s eyes. “You’re probably wondering what the heck happened, right?” A pause. Dash leaned forward to search for any reaction in the poor lighting. Not even a twitch. “You remember Twilight Sparkle? Purple pony? Big nerd? Ah, whatever. She pulled some hocus pocus unicorn stuff and found out where Spike was. Said he was in trouble or something. Of course, me being me —” She placed her hoof against her chest with a cocky smile. “— I was sent out with the Wonderbolts strike team to escort him back.”
No response. Dash gave a small huff of annoyance.
“Look, Spike’s been asking for you and I don’t like seeing a friend locked up like this.” She waved at the metal bars. “I’m here to get you out and take you to him.”
Friend. Did she really just say that? Is that really what she thinks? Screw you, Dash. Screw. You.
“Go get the guard.” Gilda slowly fought to sit up.
Her ‘friend’ brightened as she finally spoke. “That dude?” She pointed towards the prison exit. “Why? I have the keys right here!” Reaching behind her, she retrieved a key ring that had been lying across her back, jingling them happily in her mouth.
“Go get the guard,” Gilda repeated dully, resting on her haunches while matching Dash’s eyes. A small hint of satisfaction was taken as the pegasus retreated from her icy gaze.
“I don’t get it,” Dash dropped the keys and shook her head in confusion. “What do you want the guard for?”
Gilda scoffed vehemently. “Are you that dense? I’d walk with the guard, I’d walk with princess-who-gives-a-shit, hell, I’d probably even walk with that stupid annoying pink friend of yours.” She shoved a claw forward, pointing at the pony in front of her. “But you? Go to hell, Dash.”
The mare reeled back at Gilda’s insult. “What the hay is wrong with you? You aren’t still mad about me telling you off are you? That was, like, a million years ago!”
“Fool me once Dash,” she hissed, lowering her claw. “I won’t be fooled again.” No retaliation came, pleasing her greatly. “Now go find the guard. I have a new ‘cool friend’ that I need to check up on.”
Neither of them moved, both sets of eyes narrowing. Two warriors, determined to shatter each other’s steel, unbreakable from their own beliefs, so alike yet so different at the same time.
Suddenly, Dash sighed, her face darkening. “Fine. If you’re going to stay like this, I won’t bother you anymore.” The illusion faltered, her hard expression turning to profound sadness. “I’ll go get the guard.”
Gilda watched her turn to the prison’s exit, shocked. She had won, right? This is what she wanted. Did that rainbow-striped idiot honestly think she could come back, act friendly, and sweep everything under the rug?
She was nearing the door now.
Good, let her go. If she doesn’t care enough to even fight for it, I won’t care either! All that time spent around those other stupid ponies probably made her —
“So that’s it?” Gilda heard herself call out in aggravation. Dash looked over her shoulder with the same cold expression. “You’re not even going to try and fight me? Talk to me?” She seethed, trying to glare back at the small portion she could still see of the mare. “Sure, there’s no possible way you could make up for throwing me out like some used toy, but you could at least try!”
Dash cracked, storming back to her cell and pressing her face close to the bars. “Looks like someone forgot who acted like a complete jerk to my friends! Shouting and calling them all losers was not cool!”
“And that was enough for you to ditch me?” Gilda fired back. Her entire body was tensed, as if the conversation was like any other battle. This was what she craved. This was her element.
Her foe winced slightly at the blow, but recovered. “For some ponies? Yeah!” As fast as her assault had started, it faded away, replaced with a passive, regretful aura. “But for me? No. And I should have known you were upset by the time of the party.” Dash coughed, shaking her head with a grin. “Pretty terrible coincidence, now that I think about it. Setting up all those pranks when Pinkie had been annoying you all day...”
Gilda caught herself smiling, swiftly forcing back into her usual frown. This was not what she had expected. “Yeah, well... it’s too late now!” She strained to sound aggressive. “No way I’m going to be friends with someone who all of a sudden tells me off then leaves me hanging!”
“Oh now you’re lying!” Dash stomped a hoof angrily. “I sent like, a gazillion letters asking to talk, or maybe meet up again, but no, you were too bitter to even write back! You left me hanging!”
“Letters?” Gilda asked in confusion. “I never got any letters. You’re the lying one here!” she went back on the offensive, pointing a claw at her.
“I wouldn’t lie about this!” Rainbow Dash shouted.
The door to the prison burst open. A brown earth stallion brandishing a spear in his teeth rushed in, chest puffed out. “Donth thworry ma’am! I’ll thubdue —”
“GET OUT!”
“Oh! Uh... sorry.” The guard backed slowly through the door, a sheepish grin on his face.
The door creaked shut and Dash turned back to Gilda. “Either you had short term memory loss when you visited, or I must have messed up the address somehow,” she said skeptically. “It was Dagger Fels, The Perch, 117 right?” She raised a hoof to her chin. “At least I think that was it. I wrote that address like a thousand times.”
Gilda froze. “I... I left Dagger Fels as soon as I got back from Ponyville...” She closed her eyes.
“And I couldn’t send any more letters after that,” Dash continued. “The Empire wouldn’t accept any mail from Equestria for a while after that. So that means by the time your new address got sorted out...”
No. Please no. All of these years, all of those times checking to see if I got any letters just to find cobwebs. All of that cursing Dash...
When she opened her eyes again, the mare took a step back. She could imagine the look on her face now. She wanted to hate Dash. Blame her for everything. Make it all simple. It was Dash’s fault. Dash’s fault that she had fled Dagger Fels and joined the army out of rage, Dash’s fault that she hadn’t tried to contact her herself, Dash’s fault —
“Damnit.” She brought a claw to her face. An entire minute of silence lingered, the same lifeless reverb from when she had woken returning in full force. Lowering her claw, she looked over to her old friend. A rainbow mane covered her eyes, her head bowed in sympathy. “Listen,” Dash lifted her head in response as Gilda waved her claw menacingly. “This isn’t over. You can’t just dismiss me like that and then expect me to be all Junior-Speedster best-friends-forever with you again after a few nice words.”
“And you can’t call my friends losers, yell at one of them until they cry, and steal and then expect me just brush it off like it’s no big deal!” Dash mocked her, waving her own hoof around.
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Gilda went on the defensive. “Sure, calling all of your friends and not just the pink one losers was a little much, but the yellow one was totally walking backwards through the street.” She crossed her arms. “Do that in any griffon town and you’d get your flank kicked. I was just helping her out.”
Dash squinted her eyes with a frown. “Yeah. Sure. Okay. And the stealing?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think ponies would take Empire currency. Besides, it was just one apple.”
The two stared each other down, both straightening up. The eerie silence from before had dissipated, an invisible, harmonious connection long-broken creating an undetectable melody itself. It was weak, it was strained, it had its scars. But it was there again.
“So are you going to get me out of here and take me to Spike or what?” Gilda asked, maintaining her aggressive tone.
“With pleasure!” Dash retrieved the key ring, selecting a rusted, moderately sized key and slotting it into the cell door’s lock. A sharp click heralded her freedom as the cell door swung open. Rising from her haunches, she took a step forward. Immediately, her extended leg gave way, leaving her slouching beak-first into the prison floor. “Gilda! What’s the matter?” Dash asked worriedly while helping her back to her feet.
If I’m this messed up, then Spike... I’ve got to see him.
“It’s nothing,” Gilda grunted, taking a few test steps to adjust herself. “Just need to get my land legs back after all that flying Spike and I did,” she motioned to the door. “Lead the way.”
Dash nodded, keeping an eye on her as she tried to walk defiantly down the corridor. By the end of the hall, she had fallen back into a meager limp, silently cursing herself. The worried mare opened the door for her, causing her to scowl as she staggered through. The guard who had barged in on them before turned around, jumping back at the sight of the griffon.
Dash closed the door behind her. “Chill out, buddy. She’s with me.”
Gilda eyed the guard until her friend caught up. They began walking together, the walls fading from a plagued gray to a crisp white. “Speaking of which, why was I locked up in the first place? Thought it was pretty obvious I was helping Spike back in the plains.”
“I don’t mean to brag, but if it wasn’t for me, you’d have been waking up in the plains,” Dash said.
Gilda rolled her eyes. “As opposed to waking up in a prison cell?”
“Hey, you’re safe in Equestria now, right?” she asked, eliciting an amused cough from the griffon. “Anyways, the Wonderbolts I went to rescue Spike with thought you were attacking him or something. Heck, I’ll admit even I was expecting you to be another squad member until I got close enough. Once I figured out it was you, I told them to take you back to the palace. Of course we had no idea you even knew Spike. I guess it was a bit dangerous of me to assume...”
Gilda snorted. “You’re lucky I was with Spike and not the patrol,” she said, as they opened a pair of metal doors. “If I had been captured, I would have had to tear down this entire place just to...”
They both stopped. The dank, cavernous aura of the prison gave way to a vast illuminated hall. Mighty pillars ran down its length, supporting a lofty ceiling with intricate patterns and symbols. Claws and hooves alike clacked against the tiled marble floor, a fluctuating pattern of white and gold giving it the appearance of a deity’s chess board. Guards, servants, and nobles trotted through the celestial structure with blank stares, seemingly oblivious to the brilliant craftsmanship and beauty that surrounded them.
“Would’ve been a shame, huh?” Dash mocked her wide-eyed stare.
Gilda closed her mouth and lowered her gaze. “Hmmmm.” She paused. “Depends on if I’d get to see the princess’ reaction or not.”
“Huh?” The mare cocked an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t know you had a beef with the princess. She only ordered you to be imprisoned until Spike started asking for you.” She shrugged. “Can you really blame her with all this craziness going around? From what I’ve heard here in Canterlot, griffon and pony relations are walking on pins and needles.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a grudge with the princess,” Gilda said, after a moment’s consideration, “but not because she imprisoned me. That’s actually being reasonable.” Before she could be questioned, she motioned forward with a claw. “What are we standing around for? Take me to Spike.”
“Yeah. Right.” Dash shuffled her wings uneasily before continuing.
After travelling to the center of the hall, they began walking deeper into the palace. The first thing Gilda noticed was the cold, suspicious stares. Guards straightened their posture, servants quickened their pace, and the various nobles paused to give her a quick look of disgust before trotting off with their noses turned up. Several times, a nearby guard would stray from their duties to question Dash, stealing an occasional untrustworthy glance throughout the interrogation.
“Look! Here! Note!” She shoved the now wrinkled scrap of parchment in the guard’s face. “You’re the third guard so far. Go back to sitting at your post.”
This one had the same reaction as all the others. She looked at the parchment, looked towards Gilda one last time, then trotted off without saying a word.
Now I know how Spike feels. Everyone watching you, seeing you as a monster or a threat. He’s probably been surrounded by a bunch of doctor ponies for some time now, all of them freaking out about having to work on a dragon. I’m basically the only being left in this whole country who sees him as an equal. Better get to him fast.
They finally reached the end of the hall, a massive double door looming at its end, which Gilda assumed led to the throne room. Dash took a sharp left, entering a smaller door that lay off to the side.
“Almost there,” the pegasus said as she followed her through. This room was much less grandiose than the hall but had various tables and chairs set throughout, appearing to serve more as decoration than utility. “Hey, by the way, what’s up with you and Spike?” Rainbow Dash asked. “You never told me back in the prison.”
Gilda hesitated. She chose her words carefully. “I... met him while on patrol. We ended up recognizing each other from when I first visited and we talked a bit.” They passed through another door, entering a room even smaller than the last. “I thought he was a pretty cool dude and he seemed to tolerate me. We hung out, he asked if I wanted to go back to Ponyville with him and I agreed.” Gilda wanted to smack herself for such a weak lie.
“Huh,” was Dash’s only response. Both of them knew she didn’t buy it, keeping the knowledge to themselves. “Still, Spike? Cool? I dunno...”
Gilda halted, looking at her friend with suspicion. “What are you saying?”
“Well I mean Spike is laid-back, nice, funny, but not really cool. I guess I just couldn’t imagine you getting along too well with him.”
“Hey!” Gilda shoved her face into Dash’s. “What the hell does that mean?”
The mare retreated. “Nothing! I’m just saying...”
“Don’t say anything! Spike may not be throwing out any Sonic Booms or fighting everyone he comes across, but you know what? I trust him. After the hell we went through, I know he won’t flip-flop on me at any second unlike somepony.” Dash cringed. “That’s enough to be cool in my book. Plus, you’ve never seen him hunt or chased after him down a canyon. In fact, I probably know more about him now than you!”
“If you’ve been ‘friends’ with him since the princess sent the letter, you’ve only known him for like, two weeks!” the mare shot back. “Are you saying that after the years we’ve known each other, he’s already a better friend?”
Gilda narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I am.”
With a snarl she turned away, trotting onwards without a word. Gilda walked after her, any chance of talk now dead.
Good. I didn’t want this to be easy anyways, especially if she thinks she can be my personal planner.
Another door crossed, this one leading them into a wide hall with a dark red carpet. While other passageways dotted the corridor’s length, only one door, standing at the very end, possessed two royal guards stationed on either side of it.
“Alright,” Dash huffed. “Remember, this is the princess we’re talking about here. Please, please, pleeeease try and show a little respect?”
Gilda said nothing, approaching the guards and leaving the begging mare behind.
“Gilda!”
She ignored the shout. Before she could reach the door, two large, white wings extended from either guard, blocking her passage.
“Halt!” the left guard shouted, breaking his statue-like stature to look her over. “You are the griffon the princess has requested?”
“She’s with me,” Dash called from behind, skidding to a stop behind her. The guards failed to even acknowledge her, keeping their eyes locked on the griffon.
Gilda put on an annoyed face and crossed her arms. “I’m assuming that I’m the only other griffon here besides the ambassador, and I’m pretty sure you two have already gotten to be great friends with him right?”
A short grunt. Whether it was a laugh or not, she had no idea, but getting even a small reaction out of these two was a miracle.
“Wall,” the left guard said, causing his partner to look over in response. With a jerk of his head, the guard on the right nodded as they folded back their wings. Both stepped aside, the right guard turning the knob and motioning them into the open door. “Enter.”
She took a deep breathe, instinctively straightening herself.
Let’s do this.
She stepped through into a spacious guest’s room. Dash followed behind with ‘Wall’ bringing up the rear and closing the door.
“...as for your fears, I’m almost certain he’ll be in no real danger throughout the night,” a gray unicorn stallion squeaked from the middle of the room. “But please, your majesty, understand that I am a doctor for ponies. I’ve done everything I can, but if something happens —”
“I understand, doctor.” A smooth, caressing voice filled the air, instantly causing Gilda to deflate. “In the end, I am to blame here. If he is injured, I will take full responsibility.”
The princess stood at the center of the room, unlike anything Gilda had seen or expected. Books, art, stories, all strove to tell of her brilliance, yet none could compare to what stood before her. Long, slender-yet-healthy legs supported a wholesome body, a flowing tail and mane made up of soft blues, pinks, and indigo hovering about her like a trapped mystic waterfall. Her neck and muzzle were beyond any carefully chiseled or painted craftsmanship, the only blemish upon her beautiful face being violet, grief-stricken eyes which even in sadness whispered of infinite knowledge and wisdom. Almost as if to purposefully prevent her from achieving perfection, a golden crown and brooch adorned her head and chest, acting as humble ornaments instead of the boasting symbols of prowess other leaders had worn them as throughout the eons.
Gilda’s legs locked up. Her body tensed. A suffocating, drowning sensation filled her lungs.
The doctor extended his front hooves, bowing before the princess. “Thank you, princess, for your empathy,” he said. “I wish you the best of luck with the nobles tonight.”
With one last nod, he made for the exit, even his expression of shock and cautiousness at the sight of the griffon unable to break Gilda from her fearful reverie.
The princess spoke again, turning towards the bed at the center of the room. “How are you feeling?”
The mattress shifted and relaxed as its inhabitant lifted himself off. “I’m fine,” a familiar voice said softly. “Have to practice walking a bit is all.”
The princess stepped aside, revealing a purple and green dragon, his gaze downcast as he staggered to his feet. Any enchantment the goddess may have held over her shattered as Gilda saw him, an igniting spark burning away the cold demeanor that everypony had given her since her awakening.
“Spike!” she cried out with relief, rushing forward.
“Gilda?!” His head shot up, a big grin growing across his face as she slowed to a stop before him. As swiftly as it had come, the smile faded to a frown. “I’m real sorry about this.” He shook his head. “As soon as I woke up and found out you were put in prison, I asked Celestia to get you out and bring you here.” He sighed weakly. “It must have been pretty terrible, waking up in a cell after what happened last night.”
Gilda didn’t respond, her eyes tracing the dragon’s body with a mix of horror and guilt. Throughout their journey to Equestria, she had never had the chance to truly inspect her companion. Now, in the well-lit, soft environment of the palace’s guest room, every scar, every blemish, stood out like a deranged road map against his scales. Indentations in his arms from being mauled, an almost blinding mark that ran across his head down to his snout, freshly scabbed patchwork within his wings, and, the one that frightened her the most, the small incision at the bottom of his neck that stood as a testimony to their struggle. Despite their promise, she cursed herself for the scar that stood along the side of his emerald belly.
Before she could blame herself any longer, Spike extended a curled claw, prompting her out of her misery. “Gilda,” he spoke softly, not with forgiveness or sympathy, but as a friend. “It’s over. We made it. We’re here.” A wistful smirk spread on his snout. “Even if I got a few extra scale decorations.”
She fought against his kindness only to give an amused choke at his dark humor. “Spike.” She returned the gesture, bumping her claw against his. “You’re awesome, dude.”
He gave a nervous, sad laugh. “Heh, forget me. I was worried... I mean everything was so confusing and the last thing I remembered was you being attacked.” Taking a sharp breath, he shook his head. “I thought they had horribly injured you or...”
“Nope! They wanted me alive,” Gilda said quickly, trying to avert his fears. “They would’ve probably just taken me back to Lionsberg and smacked me up, then I guess imprison me for some years...”
Spike grimaced at the alternative then smiled at her. “Better to end up here than that, right?”
She grunted, glancing at the guard beside her. “I dunno, everypony’s already giving me weird looks and acting like I have some sort of disease. I can already tell it’s going to get annoying real quick.” Her gaze returned to Spike, the dragon nodding sullenly along with her words. “But I think I’ll manage,” she added.
What’s a few thousand ponies compared to what me and Spike have been through? Besides, he needs me. If they’re giving me a cold reception, I can only imagine what they’ll do to him.
He perked up at her final decision. “Just don’t forget, I’m still here, so there’s one pony, er, dragon who likes you.”
Gilda stammered, caught off-guard by his words. “I... It’s... Ha! You think you can take everything for yourself huh?” She recovered, regaining control of the conversation. “Don’t you forget, I’ve got your back! Just because we escaped the Empire doesn’t mean we’re in the blue yet!”
Now it was Spike’s turn. After a moment of surprise, he was grinning again. “Looks like we’re going to have to make some more promises here soon.”
The tables turned again, leaving her staggering. “Uh... that —”
“Hey!” Rainbow Dash butted in next to them, her wings outspread. “Is everygriffon and everydragon forgetting a certain pony? You both still have me!”
Gilda sighed at the intrusion. “I’m not sure Dash, can I be friends with you? You might not be cool enough. I might not get along with you too well you know?” she said, causing the pegasus’ wings and head to droop.
“Er...” Spike glanced between the two nervously. “Oh yeah! Gilda, you need to meet my — I mean, the princess.”
Gilda turned away from her upset friend, looking to where Spike had gestured. The princess had been standing to the side throughout their whole reunion, at last stepping forward to meet her. Instead of the same fear and awe Gilda had experienced before toward the goddess, her reuniting with Spike had created a seething anger at the sight of the princess, instantly spoiling the mirage of omnipotence she had accumulated for her.
I may be responsible for the scars, I may have abandoned Spike before, but this cleverly-disguised witch banished him from his home and friends only to have the gall to ask him to come crawling back.Maybe this is what happens after a thousand years of no one questioning your power. You just assume you can throw around friendship and love like worthless trash.
Gilda steeled herself as the devil-in-disguise stopped before her, her river-like mane seemingly flowing forward in an attempt to caress her in intoxicating warmth.
“Welcome to Canterlot, Gilda. I am Celestia.” The princess bowed her head slightly. “Spike has told me many great things about you.”
“Yeah, he’s told me a lot of great things about you too,” Gilda said casually, taking sadistic pleasure at the happiness that sprung up behind her eyes. “A lot of bad things too.”
They fell dim again as a small commotion went off around the room. Spike gasped. Dash groaned. The guard stepped forward aggressively. “Your highness, I would be honored to escort this prisoner back to her cell.” He strained to keep his emotionless guise, bits of rage dripping through with every syllable.
“I thank you for your concern, Steel Wall, but that will not be necessary,” she said with a relaxed, sad tone that surprised Gilda. “Please, join Diamond Dawn outside. I must speak to these three in private.”
The guard bowed, not even hesitating at her command as he rotated and exited, closing the door behind him.
“Might need to send that guard back to training,” Gilda snorted. “He was cracking a bit there.”
“Emotion is a natural, wondrous thing, even anger,” Celestia addressed her heavily. “I only ask that they follow my orders without question. Spike?” The dragon lingered behind Gilda, his eyes averted. “Please, come stand beside your friend. You as well, Rainbow Dash.”
The dragon stepped forward with apprehension. “Celestia, I’m sorry, I didn’t want —”
She seemed to cringe at the sound of her name. “Spike, please. Don’t apologize. I trust that everything you’ve told Gilda has been reasonable, especially after what you have been through.” The griffon squirmed as Celestia shifted her gaze to her, giving a slight nod. “Thank you, Gilda, for enlightening me as to his true thoughts.” She gave a sad smile. “He can be quite tricky to read some times, especially when he knows the truth may hurt others.”
What? She’s thanking me? Ugh. Guess I’ll have to be blunt if I want to avoid her little tricks and wordplay. Perfect. Just my style.
“Alright princess,” Gilda spat, pointing a claw at the goddess. “You banished your son after having raised him his entire life!” she growled. “For three months he suddenly had to learn how to hunt and survive on his own and for another half a month he was constantly on the verge of being killed by Empire troops!” Her anger only escalated at the princess’ sympathetic expression. “Either you come up with the most convincing explanation ever heard, or...” She curled her claw into a fist. “I start and end a revolution right here in this room.”
“Gilda!” Dash hissed from her side. Spike said nothing, his eyes downcast.
Celestia raised a hoof, quieting the pegasus. “Once again, Gilda, your words are backed by both anger and reason,” she said, causing Gilda to simmer with anger. “Please, know that what I am about to tell you all is not an excuse. I am still at fault for allowing the situation to persist for so long in the first place.”
“Situation?” Spike asked, his head peaking up with curiosity. “You mean my banishment?”
“Yes... and no.” She focused on him with intense sorrow. “It’s an infestation that took root at the very start and has been festering ever since. You see, Spike, until I had you, dragons were a complete mystery to everypony, even myself. It had even come to the point, centuries ago, that I actively set out to discover nesting mates to ask them for an egg.” Gilda swore the princess’ face had tinted pink for a brief moment. “Like anypony would respond to someone barging into their home asking for children, I was denied and quickly turned away. When I began bribing them with treasure, they rightfully responded with rage, angered that I would assume such shallowness from them.” Celestia frowned, as if upset with herself. “After realizing my own pettiness, I ceased any further attempts lest my frustration would lead me to resorting to something drastic.”
Even if her magic wasn’t enough to break through a dragon’s resistant scales, she’d still have an entire army of pegasi at her command...
Gilda shuddered at the thought of the frustrated goddess.
She may be a witch, but at least she’s not a cold-blooded murderer.
“Are you telling me after all those years you couldn’t just find an egg lying around somewhere?” Dash asked with disbelief.
“What about the adult dragons?” Spike butted in after her. “If you were so curious, why not just talk to them?”
Gilda opened her beak to join them before the princess lifted her hoof again, her usual calm expression tainted with worry. “Please, everyone,” the princess said. She closed her eyes a moment, a very faint glow emanating from her horn before she opened them again. “All of your questions are excellent, but time is running short and you must hear everything I have to tell you before we depart.”
The dragon and mare bowed their heads in respect. The griffon narrowed her eyes.
“Rainbow Dash.” She nodded towards the pegasus. “From my experience, a dragon parent’s egg is more important than their entire hoard. Thus, I suspect it is nigh-impossible to simply find one ‘lying around’. Spike —” The dragon perked up. “— the various dragon couples I came across seemed quite content with just each other and spared few words for me. Lone adult dragons were the same, dodging my questions and herding me away as fast as they could.” She sighed, as if remembering a past frustration. “If I tried to visit the same dragon twice, I would return only to find that they had fled after our first visit.” Her agitation transformed into a wry smile. “Now that I have dwelt upon it, I am certain that the goddess of a neighboring kingdom assaulting you with questions ranging from breeding to strengths and weaknesses was the sign of a bad omen to them.”
Her playful demeanor faded as she straightened, her mane flowing up with her. “Even so, those tales are but footnotes in a greater story. As all three of you must well know, while relations with the Griffon Empire have always been strained due to our close vicinity and conflicting viewpoints, our distant Zebra cousins have always held Equestria in high regard.” Gilda shifted uneasily as Celestia continued. “During one of my visits to uphold our current standings, I was showered with their usual gifts: hand-woven masks, scrolls detailing their new discoveries in alchemy, mounted weapons, all natural and, while worth their weight and more in gold, expected. Before I would return to Equestria, however, they wheeled out a cloth-draped caravan, tearing the cover away in front of me to reveal a purple-speckled dragon egg.”
Gilda scoffed, giving the princess a questionable look. “So you’re telling me that the zebras could find a dragon egg but a ‘goddess’ couldn’t? Sounds fishy to me.”
“Is it?” Celestia asked, tilting her head slightly. “Zebras have always excelled at connecting with the nature around them, from the smallest plant to the largest hydra. But I agree. My curiosity got the best of me, and I asked the zebras myself how they had acquired it. If they are to be believed, a lone dragoness rested in a cave near the Kingdom’s capital for several months. I was told the zebras impressed her, honoring her with stories and gifts, repelling would-be intruders. Eventually she departed, sorrowfully leaving a single egg she trusted unto them. When they asked why, she only told them that she’d rather the hatchling be raised there than where she dared return.”
The princess leaned forward to nuzzle a now troubled Spike, only for him to shy away at her encroachment. “Spike... forgive me for not telling you this earlier. I had always assumed you would bring it up one day while visiting from Canterlot, but —”
“But then you stopped inviting me,” Spike responded gruffly, crossing his arms. “I even wrote to you, but it was always the same ‘royal meeting’, ‘too busy’, ‘soon’...” He let the last word fade out, as if implying dozens more excuses.
“All for your sake, Spike,” she said desperately, surprising the dragon. After regrouping herself, she shook her head. “But I’m getting ahead of myself.”
“So this dragon chick gives them an egg and they just give it away to you?” Gilda asked suddenly, unable to hide her interest.
“Indeed. The convoy came with a message from the king himself: dangerous rebel groups were forming across the kingdom and he no longer trusted the safety of his own palace. He also expressed frustration that the egg had yet to hatch, wishing me luck in my attempts to keep it unharmed at all costs. Of course, for the first time in centuries I was giddy to accept it and bring it back with me to Canterlot.” She hissed slightly, sending shivers down Gilda’s spine. “Two years, five-hundred-and-seventeen different spells, dozens of experimental nesting methods... the egg would not hatch.”
Dash’s eyes widened. “Jeeze, I would have given up after the first few attempts!”
The princess nodded in agreement, her expression darkening. “Yes, the failed spells and experiments were defeating enough, but there was something else trying to stop my progress all together: the council.”
“Council?” asked Gilda.
“Long story short, nobles had ideas and wanted power, so Celestia created an assembly of twelve nobles who were to represent the general pony populace,” Spike recited as if by memory. “Still, I rarely even talked with any of them if ever. What do they have to do with my egg?”
Celestia blinked slowly and grimaced. “Simply bringing the egg back caused an immediate reaction of discomfort from them. Questions of what I would do with a baby dragon, how I would know how to raise it, and most of all what dangers it could bring to Equestria were abundant. I foolishly ignored their cries, thinking they would let the issue pass in due time.” She sighed. “I was wrong. My failed hatching attempts only strengthened their argument by creating new reasons for me to abandon it. I was ‘wasting my time’, ‘spending my strength where it was unneeded’, ‘ignoring my duties’.”
Gilda clacked her claws against the tile in thought. “Couldn’t you just... I dunno... disband them or something?”
“No,” the princess responded immediately. “While the council can be a burden on distinct topics, they provide key insight into civilian life and have helped solve me out of a few problems before. Not to mention, the message that would be sent out should I disband them... it would be unpleasant.”
“What if we made a little story huh?” Gilda raised a claw, bringing up its razored tips. “‘Front Headlines: Whole Council Found Brutally —”
Three knocks sounded from the door.
“You may enter,” Celestia called as she half-turned towards the interruption. After a small click, the door slid open, the head of one of her guards poking into the room. “Yes?”
“Your highness, Sovereign is here and has requested to speak with you.”
Beside Gilda, Spike shot to attention, his eyes brightening.
“Allow him in,” the princess commanded.
The guard disappeared, leaving the door slightly cracked. A moment later, it gently swung open, a gray earth stallion wearing a prim black suit weakly trotting in. An impressive white mustache, thick brows that seemed like they would blind him, and a long beard graced his muzzle. Gilda was almost certain the old pony would snap in two should she even so much as touch him.
Celestia nodded towards him. “Please Sovereign, with haste.”
The stallion bowed, letting out a muffled cough. “The council has fully assembled within the dining hall per your request,” he read with a gruff, deep voice. “Also, your apprentice has arrived back from Ponyville with her friends and will be joining them soon, as per your request.”
“Of course, the one time I want them to take their leisure they are assembled within mere hours,” Celestia spoke with clear disappointment. “Tell the dining staff to begin serving the hors d'oeuvres and the council that I shall be joining them soon.”
“It will be done, your majesty.” He bowed again, turning to leave.
“Sovereign! Wait!” Spike called out, chasing after the elderly pony.
A thousand possible reactions from the old stallion flashed through Gilda’s head. Disdain? Confusion? Fear was certainly up there. Maybe he wouldn’t react at all, fleeing out the door as fast as his worn hooves could carry him.
Instead, Sovereign turned around, his bushy eyebrows lifting to reveal two pale-white pupils.
He’s blind.
“Spike? Is that you?” His voice became hoarse with surprise as the dragon stopped in front of him.
“Yep!” Spike lowered his head while dampening his speech. “Back from banishment! I knew they couldn’t get enough of me.”
Sovereign gave a choking laugh. “Yes, I had heard you were to return from Celestia but became worried after you hadn’t arrived for so long!” He extended a hoof forward, prodding the dragon’s face before giving him a soft nuzzle. From the corner of her eye, Gilda could see the princess gazing longingly at the two friends.
“It was crazy!” Spike accepted the nuzzle warmly. “Manticores, treasure, griffons... I gotta sit down and tell you everything after this blows over.”
“A tale I cannot wait to hear. Now if you will please forgive me, the princess has demanded haste.” He bowed to the dragon.
“No problem.” Spike bowed in response, surprising Gilda. “I’ll catch ya later.”
“Till we meet again.” Sovereign turned away from the dragon, and despite his condition, found the door perfectly, opening and slipping out of the room with grace.
Spike watched the old pony leave before returning to Gilda’s side, his face flush with embarrassment. “Sorry Celestia.”
“Not at all, Spike,” she reassured, the slightest hint of sadness edging her words. “It is only fair that you are able to spare a moment for a friend you’ve known your whole life.” The princess glanced back towards the door with worry. “Still, time is short, and I have not yet finished. Now, as I said, my attempts at hatching the egg were all in vain. With the council’s persistent attacks, my constant failures, and my duties constantly growing in size and difficulty, I fear that I began to lose faith. I questioned if the egg was defective, if I truly had been throwing away precious time pursuing a lost cause. With nearly all ideas put to test, all spells cast, I submitted the egg to our initiation program, hoping that the imagination of a filly or colt would surpass thousands of years of knowledge.” She smiled warmly, shaking her head. “I will admit, I had no faith in such a method and continued my own fruitless research, each result the same as the last.”
“You didn’t expect Twilight, though,” Spike continued, beginning to fit together the puzzle.
To Gilda’s amazement, Celestia’s smile widened and her usual calm demeanor gave way to a spark of giddiness. “I definitely did not expect Twilight. It was a moment in which I had some time to myself, some free time to journey about the palace at my leisure. Imagine my surprise when your head came jutting out of the eastern spire!” The princess’ wings opened up as her excitement grew. “I quickly raced to the top, dispelling all of the chaos that had ensued. On that day, in that room, after nearly a thousand years of loneliness, I discovered love again, from both Twilight and you, Spike.”
For the first time, Spike returned the princess’ smile, his tense stance relaxing.
“But someone else had to see that enormous head coming out of the spire, right?” Gilda mused, her rage now replaced by curiosity. “Wouldn’t the council have found out?”
Celestia’s wings folded back into place, her grin forming into a frown. “Yes, the council found out immediately through civilian reports, with one member having caught site of Spike’s enlarged form themselves. The first reaction was of panic, of fear that Canterlot itself was under attack. While I was loathe to inform them of Spike’s birth, twelve panicking ponies are more easily managed than thousands. In any case, the councils pestering redoubled at the news, their arguments shifting to accommodate Spike. ‘Have I any idea of what I’m doing?’, ‘A princess should be a leader, not a babysitter.’, ‘What will you do once he matures and becomes feral?’” she recalled, the words clearly having been seared into her mind. “Of course, I ignored them, my beliefs only sharpening when Spike began to speak his first words and began learning basic pony education. The fact that a dragon could learn just as well as anypony else was the greatest blow I ever made against the council’s irrational campaign. The years went on and Spike grew, as did his relationship with Twilight and I. A few council members were replaced, their beliefs just as narrow as the member before them. Throughout his growth, their questions remained the same and their fear only grew with his size. It mattered not. By the time I sent Twilight and Spike to Ponyville, it was common knowledge amongst the council that he was my son.”
“Wait...” Spike’s face contorted with realization. “If the council was that suspicious of me, then... my birthday...”
Celestia nodded, turning solemn. “When I let you go to Ponyville, I had foolishly assumed a baby dragon was raised like any other creature. You had gone through childhood just like a pony, why not adolescence?”
“But then I hit puberty... and the greed...” The dragon sunk, bringing a claw to his head.
“Exactly. Your uncontrollable rampage across Ponyville ignited flames not only within the council, but amongst mayors, nobles, and countless numbers of ‘concerned families’. Thousands upon thousands of letters poured in demanding you leave Equestria. The only thing keeping you from banishment was my insistence that you were still only a child and that you hadn’t attacked or eaten anyone during your hoarding.”
Gilda watched as Spike fell to one knee, burying his head in his claws.
I should do something.
But what? Claw bump him? Get real.
I should comfort him! I did it after he confessed about his banishment, why not now?
Oh come on, Dash is RIGHT there. I know her. She’d flip and start assuming all kinds of stupid things.
Celestia answered for her, taking a step forward and wrapping the dragon in her long wings.
Hey!
Instead of fighting, he lowered his claws, looking up at the goddess. “Why didn’t I know about this?” he asked with sad wonder. “The most I ever had to do was help clean up and apologize to a few ponies... but all across Equestria?”
“Because it was not your burden to bear, Spike.” Her voice had dropped to a near-whisper. “You were not in control, neither did you have any idea it would happen. Stopping yourself with the help of Rarity was amazing and beyond anything anyone could of asked of you.”
Spike grimaced, shaking his head. “So you took all the blame for yourself? You didn’t know any more than I did!”
Celestia countered. “And what if I just let them go wild? Told them it was no fault of mine and that the destruction of half a town was an unhappy coincidence? Hundreds of ponies, protest groups, news stations, would have descended upon Ponyville to make you miserable. It was my duty as your mother to protect you from such a fate.”
Celestia withdrew her wings as Spike rose, his claws clenched and a new air of confidence surrounding him. “Mother...” He nodded. “So I guess that night was it huh? When they found out my diet had begun to include meat, they freaked out?”
“Precisely. While Rainbow Dash was wise to come and bring me to you, she arrived at the worst time conceivable: in the middle of a council meeting.”
Dash drooped with embarrassment. “My bad.”
“Pay it no mind,” Celestia said. “It was simply yet another unfortunate circumstance in a long line. Now, as you recall, I returned to Canterlot to ‘consider the best course of action.’ In truth, I asked the council to withhold their judgements, to allow me time to assess what had happened and how we would work with the situation.” She sighed. “They would not allow it. Either I had you out of Equestria within the week, or they spread the word that a carnivore, the same one who had destroyed a town years ago, was now hunting and nesting within Ponyville.”
“That’s blackmail!” Gilda shouted, slamming her claw down onto the tile. “Are you even in control of your own kingdom? Sounds to me like the real people in charge here are a dozen of old narrow-minded morons!”
“Believe me, Gilda,” Celestia responded, calmly. “Spike’s situation is unlike anything else. Past him, the council could be considered nothing more than advisers compared to my power.”
“Sovereign said they’re in there, in the dining room. Twilight and my friends too,” Spike said in a low tone, beginning to connect the dots. “Why? What are you planning?”
“As you recall, in that painfully unemotional letter the council and I sent you, I spoke of an experiment that will alleviate your desire for meat. Tonight, in front of your friends but more specifically the council, I will unveil it, hopefully slightly alleviating their fears and allowing me to begin working on deconstructing their campaign against you.”
The dragon closed his emerald eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them once again. A new aura of determination swirled about him. “What do you need us to do?”
Celestia nodded, pleased by his question. “Dash, you shall join your other friends and provide support and words of encouragement to dissuade the council. Your fond memories with Spike will be a powerful tool here.” The princess went to address Spike before she paused, returning to Dash. “And keep Fluttershy calm please. She has a kind heart, but her fear of dragons could work against us.”
“Count on me princess!” Dash answered with a salute.
“Spike, I simply need you to follow along with he experiment,” her face turned hard. “If you feel sick, uncomfortable, anything, you tell me. While we have done extensive testing, I will not have you harmed any further by my hoof.”
Spike gave a slight nod, maintaining his determined air.
“And Gilda?” The griffon straightened at the sound of her name. “You must fight against your own anger. I understand your loathing of the council due to their actions against Spike, but the simple fact that you are a griffon, especially during such unstable times, will work against you. Please, try to not make them more suspicious of you than they already are.”
“Sheesh!” Gilda snorted. “I guess I just won’t say anything.”
Celestia smiled. “While I am loathe to say this, it would be for the best if you did not.” She backed away, sweeping her gaze across all three friends. “I must leave you now. Such a simple act as entering the dining hall with you would upset the council and damage our work from the start. Before I go I want to thank you all. You, Dash for saving your friends’ lives, you, Gilda, for bringing Spike back home safely and accompanying him during his banishment, and you, Spike, for persisting and enduring even against all odds. Thank you, for everything.”
“Wait,” Spike called out as she turned to leave. The princess rotated back to face him with a sad, longing expression. Before she could question him, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her neck in a warm embrace, stunning her. “Thanks mom.”
The goddess remained frozen before beaming, her happiness seeming to make the room itself brighten. As they broke away, her eyes lingered upon her son, a new life having lit up behind her pupils. With one last quick nuzzle between them, she turned to Rainbow Dash. “Rainbow, will you escort them to the dining hall after I depart?”
“Sure thing!” Dash saluted again. “I’ll wait a bit so you can get to the hall before us.”
“Thank you.” The princess trotted to the door, stealing one last happy glance at Spike before leaving.
So he’s already forgiving her? I mean sure, she had her reasons but she banished him. Her own son! Is he too naive or do I just hold a grudge for too long?
Gilda shattered the silence with a long exhale, groaning in the process. “I hate politics.”
“Me too,” Dash said.
“Same,” Spike said, right afterward.
Gilda stepped in front of her friends where the princess once stood, extending a claw towards them. “You both ready for this?”
“All for one!” Dash shouted putting out a hoof. Her friends fell silent, giving her a confused look. “What? It’s from an awesome book I read! You’re supposed to say ‘and one for all!’”
Spike and Gilda shared a glance, shrugging. Stacking their claws onto her hoof, they gave her an affirmative nod.
“All for one!”
“And one for all!”