//------------------------------//
// Dinner with Family, Friends, and Flies 
// Story: Kindred Spirits 
// by Cottonmouth 
//------------------------------//

“Sixty.”

“Yes, good.”

“Uh, fifty-four!”

“Right!”

“This one is... one-hundred-and-twenty-one.”

“Right again!”

“... Mom, this is boring.”

The small, purple dragon dropped his quill and pushed away the half-finished scroll, a muffled rasp sounding as it scraped against the rug. He folded his scaly arms, looking over his shoulder at his mother with a disappointed frown. “This is all easy stuff! When are we going to move on to something harder?”

She was dumbfounded. To anyone else, it would be a once in a lifetime sight. For Spike, it was an everyday occurrence.

“So you’ve already grown tired of stage one intermediate math?” she asked him with worry, levitating  over a frayed, worn book. Like he had come to expect, she began pillaging the poor pages, scanning each and every distinct line in a frantic pace. “But Professor Parameter says right here that you should be spending at least another two weeks on the subject!”

“Two more weeks? That’s forever!” Spike stuck his tongue out in protest.

His mom continued her search, her initial nervousness transforming into frustration. The pages flew under her gaze now, like a deck of playing cards being shuffled before a game. Is that what this was? Were they going to be playing Go-Fish again?

Instead, she let out an agitated groan, clasping the book closed with her own hooves. “Not a single suggestion or note on early progression either.” She raised her hoof to her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps I can summon the professor himself to the palace...”

Three knocks echoed from the door.

“You may enter, Sovereign.”

One of the double doors slowly pushed open, the old butler hobbling his way in. A tray with two chocolate smoothies balanced upon one of his front hooves as he slowly approached.

“Sovrain!” Spike clapped his hands together. The gray stallion meant snacks, board games, cool stories, fun. Sure, Mom could be fun too, but she could also be bugging him to do his homework.

Sovereign gave a gruff chuckle as he limped towards them. “Almost, Spike. Remember, it’s ‘run’, not ‘rain’.” He set the tray down then bowed to the princess, his casual demeanor having quickly faded away. “Your majesty, the smoothies you requested.”

Much to Spike’s joy, the tray sat perfectly atop his lesson, blocking the scroll. With eager claws he snatched up one of the drinks, observing his mom and friend as he sucked at the chocolatey goodness.

“Perfect timing, Sovereign,” his mother said with a sigh, taking up the second smoothie for herself.

“Forgive me for my intrusion, princess, but you seem rather flustered. It may, of course, just be these old ears and fading eyes of mine.”

“Your intuition would be correct.” Spike felt a tender hoof wrap around and pull him closer to his mother’s soft stomach. He didn’t fight, snuggling into her warm embrace with a smile. “Spike here is troubled about how simple stage one intermediate math has become, but the book says that he should be studying it for another two weeks.” She took another sip then shook her head. “I’m uncertain whether to maintain our current schedule or put it aside for his pleas.”

The butler huffed, his mustache puffing outward in reaction. “May I make a suggestion, your highness?”

“You may.”

He bowed. “Thank you. Long ago now, I raised two foals which I had the pleasure of schooling myself from our very own home. While at first I thought it a blessing, I quickly found myself torn in two. My daughter excelled at math but struggled with reading and writing while my son was the complete opposite! He would write papers at his own leisure without any mistakes yet struggle with even the most basics of number problems!”

“They were like night and day.” The hoof around Spike tightened slightly. The butler’s head drooped. “Forgive me. Please, continue.”

“As you wish, your majesty. After quite a bit of floundering about on my part, I finally gave in and visited a good friend of my wife who just so happened to be a basics math teacher at a nearby school. When I presented her with my conundrum, she immediately pinpointed the source of my dilemma: I was using the same strict lesson structure for each of my children! She taught me that each child is special, progressing through the learning process at their own, unique pace. Some children will excel in some places, some in others, but what matters most is that you work with your child as they learn and not against them. Even if it means breaking away from the scheduled norm.”

“Of course...” A faint glow bathed over the room, awakening Spike from the half-sleep another one of Sovereign’s funny stories had put him in. From his resting spot, he could spot his mother’s long horn emanating a soft light, multiple pictures hovering into view before her face. “Throughout the years, I’ve had apprentices, students of my own.” She picked out one particular picture, lowering it down for him to see. A purple filly beamed at him, the photo having captured her face at a moment of pure glee. Spike smiled back, having already made fond memories with this particular pony himself. “Each pupil has been unique, different, a brand new experience that I learn from as well as I lead them, at their own pace, through the secrets and wonders of magic. Who is to say that math is no different?” She replaced the pictures then nodded towards the butler. “Thank you, Sovereign, for your story.”

He bowed again. “It was my pleasure. For truth, it might actually be the first story I have told you that you have ever learned from, Your Highness!”

“You humble yourself too much, my friend.” Spike finished his smoothie as his mother looked down upon him, her calm, common smile having swept away her bout of nervousness. “Tomorrow, Spike, we will resume to the next stage and present you with an actual challenge.”

He burped happily in response before covering his mouth, a devious grin hiding underneath. “Sorry, manners.”

His mother laughed lightly. “Oh Spike, what are we going to do with you?”

A loud pounding from the door caused Spike to jump. After a moment’s silence, a royal guard half-stepped into the room with a grim expression.

“Your majesty, Duke Watergate of the council has—” the guard glanced back through the door, grimacing as he returned “—adamantly requested your presence.”

A wave of warm air washed over Spike as a long, drawn out exhale fought back the silence. When he looked up again, the radiant smile from before had dulled into a sad frown. Whoever this Duke guy was, he certainly did not make his mom happy.

“Do not allow him in. I will address him personally outside of my chambers.”

Spike’s interest piqued. That tone was usually reserved for when he had done something bad, and even then it was always blunted with a delicate edge.

The soft cushion fell away as his mother rose to her hooves. “Sovereign, please watch over Spike while I am gone. I shall return shortly.”

He followed her with wide eyes as she made for the door, ignoring the butler getting comfortable in front of him. Sovereign meant fun. Spike liked fun, but not now. Something was wrong. Around him, his mom could get frustrated, confused, maybe even nervous. But never upset. Something was wrong, and he was going to find out exactly what.

Sovereign began talking the moment his mother exited the room. “Let’s see, we can play Hungry Hungry Hydra, Battle Cloud, Cockatrices and Stairs—”

“Sovrain?”

“Yes, Spike?”

“Can you tell me a story?”

The old stallion lit up at his proposal, adjusting his enormous glasses. “I would love to! Here, give me a moment to to dig through my memories.”

As soon as Sovereign lowered his eyes in thought, Spike dashed to the royal bed, seizing two of the violet pillows that rested upon it. Without wasting a second, he blitzed back his original spot, trying desperately to hold the cushions behind his back.

“Spike? I heard a bit of commotion. Is something wrong?” the butler called out as he glanced around the room, finally settling upon Spike.

“Uh, yeah! Just uh... getting comfortable is all.”

“Ah yes. Excellent foresight I must say, as this particular story is one of my more lengthy tales. You see, a long time ago, I was in Durma, working for the local zebra government who were trying to buy the loyalties of local tribal leaders...”

Slowly, Spike propped one pillow atop the other, positioning the large cushions so they stood at his sitting height. While Sovereign continued with his story, he slowly edged himself out of the stallion’s view. Sure enough, after escaping the field of vision, the butler’s faded eyes remained fixated on the stack of violet, completely oblivious to their inanimateness. Satisfied, Spike tiptoed slowly to the exit, pressing his ear against the middle crack of the chamber’s double doors. If he strained, distinct, slightly muffled voices could be heard not far from the entrance:

“...Is your duty as the royal princess to attend and participate in every meeting the council summons you for, scheduled or not.”

A soothing yet stern, familiar voice fought back. “Have you forgotten, Watergate? Sudden gatherings are for the convenience of the council and I in discussing newly risen emergencies, not for the usual topics and check-ups you have tricked me into before.”

“Hmph. It is convenient for the council.”

“And for some reason, consistently inconvenient for me. Pray tell, Watergate, I would love to hear your estimate why.”

There was a pause, allowing a few seconds of silence to linger in the air. At last, the stallion spoke again, his haughtiness from before dampened. “If you were to truly ask me, princess, I would say it is that scaled creature you have become so fond of over the years. Over time, It has sapped away at your strength, your free time, and even your participation in requested parties and various politics. Make no mistake, your majesty, the simple fact that you are able to still control the country under such stress is an amazing feat in of itself, but I implore you to reconsider this whole ‘dragon’ endeavor.”

Spike gasped. They were talking about him! And from the way the stallion talked, it wasn’t good. Had he done something wrong?

“An expected and almost undoubtedly rehearsed line. I want to inform you and all the council that I have not been this healthy in centuries and that my free time has never been spent better. As for my participation, I can assure you that the nobles can wait patiently for an opening in my schedule without dying if I cannot attend their next weekly party.”

“And... the council...?” he asked with a loud gulp.

“From now on shall assemble at my command and my command only. With that decreed, there will be no meetings for the rest of the day. Good day, sir.”

The clopping of hooves against tile started, growing louder.

“B-but princess!”

“I said good day, sir,” she said with a strong tone before relaxing back into her normal prose. “Please, inform the rest of the council then return to your family and enjoy the rest of the day off.”

“Y-yes your highness.”

Before Spike could retreat back to the still-rambling Sovereign, the double doors swung open, sending him staggering backwards only to land upon his spines. His mother quickly swooped forward, taking the baby dragon in her hooves.

“Spike, are you alright?” she asked. Behind her, a red stallion stood frozen, staring at the mother-son pair like a stunned deer. With one quick glare from the princess, the stallion resumed his departure with hastened steps.

Spike dug himself into his mothers chest. “Yeah, but...”

“What is it, dear?”

“Did... did I get you in trouble?”

A profound sadness overtook his mother as she reached down and nuzzled him. “No, Spike. Never.”

“But that stallion—”

“Is wrong. Spike, you are nothing less than a miracle to me and just because someone attempts to tell you or me otherwise doesn’t change anything. Mr. Watergate is just struggling with a foolish problem that has rooted itself within his mind.”

Spike’s shade of gloom disappeared, leaving him curious and confused. “Well shouldn’t you go tell him the answer then? I know I get mad when I’m stuck on a problem that I’m doing wrong.”

His mother blinked as she gazed at him with blank expression. Before he could assume any wrong, she burst into a light, wonderful laughter that filled the royal chambers. As she fought to contain herself, she began to carry him carefully back to Sovereign. “If only everything in life was that simple! Even so, this is a problem Mr. Watergate needs to find the solution to himself. He and the rest of the council shall come around eventually... I hope.”

“Ah! Your majesty! I do hope everything went well. I was just finishing informing Spike here of my time working as a special force agent in Durma.” Sovereign motioned towards the pillows before him.

After a hint of hesitation, his mother looked down at him, cocking an eyebrow with a half-smile on her face. Spike grinned mischievously back, bringing a single claw to his snout, giggling when his mom mimicked his move.

“Thank you, Sovereign, for keeping Spike company,” she said as she placed him down in front of the two cushions. “I think that’s enough work for today, don’t you think? How about a game before dinner?”

“Monopony!” Spike shouted, throwing his claws in the air.

Sovereign nodded, slowly rising to his hooves. “As always, young master, you prove yourself to be a dragon of taste. I shall retrieve the aforementioned game at once.”

The pillows behind Spike floated away only to be replaced by the familiar warm caress of his mother’s side. As soon as she had settled, he buried his head into her soft belly, letting all of his tension drain away. There was nothing wrong. Just one stallion that needed to find an answer, that’s all. With his mother, Sovereign, Twilight... he was the happiest dragon alive. Everything was perfect.

*   *   *

With Gilda at his side, Spike followed behind Rainbow Dash as she made her way back to the grand hall. Not that he needed her as a guide or anything. He knew the palace like the back of his claw. Still, he preferred it like this. Even in these small rooms, where ponies were sparse, the uncomfortable aura of fear and suspicion was stronger than ever. Being next to the same friend who he had just trusted his life with, who had told him she would never judge based on his race or appearance but on his loyalty and character, was enough to put his mind at ease. Not to mention, Gilda herself was a victim of the scornful eyes and shaded whispers as well. While she could no doubt hold up on her own, he wanted to be beside her, to let her know she wasn’t alone.

“Looks like you two are the main attraction,” Dash said uneasily, as if reading his thoughts.

Gilda laughed, ironically causing some ponies to look away. “Welcome to the freak show, Dash, the most popular show in Equestria. Spike and I are professionals at this point.”

“Yeah. Professionals at being ourselves,” Spike said, grimacing.

“Just remember dude, it’s us two versus thousands of them, so the odds are in our favor,” Gilda remarked casually.

Dash shuffled her wings.

Spike smiled at her confidence. “Seriously, after those patrols, a thousand stuck up nobles aren’t looking so fierce.”

The pegasus slowed down until she trot just in front of the two.

Gilda gave a fake yawn. “Yep. a thousand nobles thrashed. Just another day in the life of Spike and Gilda. Next thing you know we’ll be wrestling hydras.”

“So you both hung out for like, two weeks before leaving for Ponyville right?” Dash asked suddenly without looking back.

“Uh... yeah.” Spike looked over at the griffon, sharing a glimpse of confusion.

“Dang, must have been a crazy two weeks. What did you two do?  Try to outdo each other’s death-defying tricks?”

“Er... no.”

“Oh. Did you race then?”

Did playing tag flying down a steep canyon count as racing? “I... guess? Not really.”

Rainbow Dash stopped in front of the door leading to the grand hall, laughing as she turned back to face him and Gilda. “Duh! Here I am talking about all of these speedy things. Sorry Spike, forgot dragons were all about endurance. Besides, knowing Gilda, she convinced you into more crazy, badass stuff. Lemme guess, you two went around picking fights with manticores and hydras and cerberuses didn’t you?”

Spike scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head. “We didn’t fight any wildlife.”

“Then what the hay did you do??” Dash asked.

“Hmmm let me remember... we did stuff like hunting—” the pegasus cringed “—exploring, stargazing, treasure—”

“Whoa whoa whoa wait! Stargazing?”

Spike immediately regretted his words as Dash shifted her horrified stare over to Gilda.

The griffon was half-crouched, her wings standing on edge. “W-what? So we chilled for a bit. Hunting was totally cool, and there was that one time we flew down that canyon.”

Dash held her expression.

“Hey! What about you, Ms. Egghead! I come back only to find out you’re shoving your face in books. Since when was reading a bunch of fantasy-romance schlock considered ‘cool’?”

Dash shook her head, breaking from her stupor. “Since I said, that’s when! And the genre is action not romance!”

Spike raised his claws in a vain attempt to calm the pair. “Ladies—”

“Looks like hanging out with all those Ponyville wimps has killed your perception! Next thing I know you’ll be raising a pet turtle!”

“Gilda—”

“Oh yeah? Well it looks like hanging out with Spike turned you into a star-crossed softy! And he’s a tortoise!”

“Dash—”

Gilda’s face flashed with anger. “Did you already forget what I told you numbskull?? Spike is co—”

“STOP!”

The shout came out more as a primeval roar than a word, sending every noble and servant that lingered within the room scrambling through any nearby door they could find. Dash and Gilda lept away from him in shock, the former slamming into the door behind her. Across from the trio, an unicorn guard’s horn lit up, summoning in a floating halberd. The guard himself remained unmoving, seeming to treat the decorated polearm more as a warning sign than an actual weapon.

An eerie silence crept over the room, the only remaining six eyes all locked on the dragon.

“Heh. Sorry,” Spike turned and apologized to the guard. With a snort, his horn lit up again, poofing the weapon away.  

Rainbow Dash struggled back onto her hooves. “Jeeze Spike! What was that for?”

“I know you both want to argue over whether reading books or looking at stars is cool or not, but please, can we do it after we’ve convinced the council not to banish me again?” Spike begged.

Gilda looked away while Dash lowered her head.

“Sorry Spike. We should be focusing on helping you,” said Dash.

“Yeah, my bad,” Gilda agreed.

“Whoa! Gilda apologizing now? That—”

“Dash!”

The pegasus spun around and threw open the door, trotting through. “Right! Let’s get to that dining hall!”

Before Spike could follow her through, a claw shot out and grabbed him firmly by the arm.

“Spike,” Gilda said as he turned towards her. The griffon’s eyes were a mix of worry and anger.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever Dash says, ignore it,” she said, removing her claw. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s been talking about how weird it is that we’re friends and how ‘uncool’ you are. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s actually afraid of you just like every other pony but doesn’t want to show it.”

Spike frowned. Dash? Afraid of him?  No way. But then why would she be acting like this? Then he remembered. Dash butting in during their reuniting. Gilda’s harsh words. Dash drooping her head. “Gilda, maybe it’s not me she’s afraid of, but you.”

Gilda looked him in over in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would Dash be afraid of me? You’re the one she’s trying to separate, not me.”

Spike set his jaw, considering his hunch. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but he was sure of one thing: Dash had shown throughout his growth and his return to Equestria that she didn’t mind him. Whatever was causing the pegasus to work against him, it couldn’t be his fault. There had to be an outside influence. “I don’t know Gilda. I hate to say it, but I think you know Dash more than I do. It’s up to you to talk to her and find out what’s happening.”

“Hah! Talk to her? She hasn’t earned it. I’m not going to get all goody-goody with her just to be tossed out again,” Gilda said, crossing her arms.

He made to argue only to retreat at the last second. He knew Gilda. There would be no way to talk her out of a grudge, especially one she had held for years. No use throwing himself between the two friends. They’d sort it out by themselves. “Just remember, Gilda, Dash still wants to be your friend. The only question is if you still want to be friends with her.”

He turned away and went through the door before she could react. Spike never considered himself a deep dragon, but he had to admit, he was mentally patting himself on the back for that line. Now just to hope for the best from Gilda.

As Dash and he began traveling across the grand hall’s width, Gilda caught up, her eyes shaded and head slightly downcast as if in deep thought.

“Move along nothing to see here bozos get lost!” Dash shouted at their wide-eyed onlookers. Who could blame them though really? It wasn’t every day you got to see both a dragon and a griffon walking along with one of Equestria’s heroes.

Unlike the single, small door on the opposite spectrum from which they had entered the hall, the double doors that stood on the other side of the throne room’s entryway were an impressive height and width, able to take in a rough estimate of six ponies wide. Dash barged straight through the middle of them, throwing both segments wide open. The impressive architecture from the grand hall spilled into this room, a grand ball room with two sets of stairs across from them that ran into an upper balcony which ran a circle that overlooked the entire lower floor. As far as Spike knew, the smaller ball room which Twilight always threw her parties in was the smaller, frequently used location. This place was utilized to entertain only the most noble of menageries and the occasional ambassador.

Unlike the grand hall or the guest rooms and lounge section, the room was devoid of sound and frighteningly empty save for his mom’s two signature royal pegasi guards protecting another set of double doors which loomed between the two sets of stairs. Spike gulped. This was it. Through the door ahead was the dining hall. While most of his meals were spent with his mother in her royal chambers, the massive corridor was nothing new to him. Still, he had never seen it full. A table that big, filled to the brim with ponies watching your every move... he shuddered. Best to just go in and get it over with.

“Ready when you guys are,” Spike said nervously, looking from one friend to the other.

“Ready when we are? We’re not the ones on the chopping block here, dude.” Spike shook his head slightly. She had a good point. “Besides, you should take a second to relax. You’re shaking like crazy.”

Shaking? He was shaking? He didn’t feel like he was shaking. Wonderful. He wondered what other things his body was doing that he wasn’t aware of.   

“Spike, Just remember, Gilda, Celestia, Twilight, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, me, and even Fluttershy. We’re all here to back you up. Any dumb lie they try to throw at you, we have the truth to back it up.”

“We’ve also got the claws too, if it needs to come to that.” Gilda’s words sounded almost hopeful, making Spike give a small, coughing laugh.

He swung his arms back and forth, stretching out his joints until he heard a soft pop. Satisfied, he took a deep breath, allowing it to roll into a low, feral growl. He was a dragon. What were a bunch of old ponies to him? “Alright. I’m ready.”

“Still shaking.” Dash pointed out to him.

“I said I’m ready!”

“Okay okay!” she folded. “Both of you just stay behind me so the council will see me enter first. Make a good first impression ya know?”

He snorted, amused. Can’t argue with that. He and Gilda fell in behind Dash as she began trotting forward. When she got to the door, the guards closed in, blocking the passage.

“You just had to stop my awesome entrance huh?” Dash groaned, halting in front of them

The guards ignored her completely, the left one reaching back and retrieving a parchment that had been tucked between his wings. “Ms. Dash, you are to be seated with the rest of Twilight’s friends. As soon as you enter, please take a left and follow along the table. You will find your seat between Ms. Rarity and Ms. Fluttershy.”

Spike nodded. Good. Rainbow Dash next to Fluttershy made Spike calm slightly. It seems his mom had everything planned down even to the seats.

“Mr. Spike, you are to be seated next to the princess. Ms Gilda, you will be seated between  Ms. Sparkle and Ms. Applejack.” The guard replaced the parchment as he and his partner stepped aside. “Enjoy the dinner and good luck.”

Good luck huh? Hmph. Now that he thought about it, the guards themselves probably dealt with The Council on a regular basis. They were Probably choosing the lesser of two evils in such a situation.

Gilda let out a deep breath from his side.

“Something the matter Gilda?”

She shook her head. “Just trying to decide whether I’d want to fight patrols to death or listen to a bunch of old ponies whine about something they have no idea about.”

“Hmmmm. Tough decision, but I’ll take the ‘not dying’ option.” Spike jested, eliciting a smile from the griffon.

“Guess you’ve never heard of ‘bored to death’ huh Spike?” Dash poked his side with a hoof.

Now he was grinning. “Guess I’m about to find out. Lead the way, Oh Impressionable One.”

“With pleasure.”

Like a single gear bringing the whole machine to life, Dash took a step forward, setting the three friends into motion. They were only a few feet from the door now. Spike’s heart raced, his mind swam with infinite possibilities, and beneath it all, a swirling mass of anxiety, hopes, and fears threatened to destroy him before their mission had even started.

He instinctively sucked in air as Dash reached forward with her hoof.

Let’s do this.

The double doors swung open and they crossed the threshhold.

Just as he had expected, the sight immediately flooded his mind with nearly every emotion imaginable. The first thing he noticed was his mother sitting upon an ornate chair across the room at the head of the table. On his right, a bunch of ponies he didn’t recognize lined the table, eyeing him with skepticism. Prim suits and dresses hid their frames, the extravagant designs giving them an air of superiority.

He looked left, then exhaled.

There they were. Like a light in the black, his four friends sat side by side, each showing their adoration in their own unique way.

Applejack gave a homely smile, her hoof lifted in the air in a single wave. That’s what he liked about her. With just a simple, small motion, she could make you feel like you had an entire foundation beneath your feet to support you.

It was also the exact opposite reason he liked Pinkie Pie so much. The flamboyant pony had both hooves thrown into the air while she stood up in her chair, flailing about wildly. It was clear she wanted to scream out his name, but she settled for muffled squeals and whimpers instead.

In complete contrast, Rarity sat politely next to her, giving a soft wave he would expect to see in a parade. Her beauty had only grown stronger since his childhood, deep blue eyes and long purple curls as radiant as ever.

Then there was Fluttershy. Much to Spike’s dismay, she refused to make eye contact, her head dipped as she raised a hoof over her head and shook it about meekly.

There was so much he wanted to say to them. So much he wanted to talk about. How was Applebuck season going so far? How was the rest of the apple family? What about you Pinkie? Throw any killer parties lately? And Rarity, how did that batch of dresses you had before I left turn out? Dang, you’re probably way behind in jewels huh? Why don’t we go out and catch up while digging up a few? Fluttershy... let’s talk.

Finally, his gaze settled upon Twilight. Unlike the others, she didn’t wave, squirm, or look away. All she did was smile, the most radiant action in the room. He should run up and hug her, tell her how much he had missed her, introduce her to Gilda.

But not now. Now he had to make sure he could even talk to them in the first place.

“Ah, here they are now. Welcome, Spike, Gilda, and Rainbow Dash.” Celestia’s voice sailed across the room in greeting.

Some of the nobles leaned forward in their chairs to stare at them, expressions ranging from frightened shock to pure disgust dancing across all twelve of their faces.

“About time. Was beginning to believe you had fled,” one of the stallions who had sneered said tiredly, giving a loud yawn.

“Not for the world,” Spike countered as he began walking along the left side of the table with Gilda and Dash. The stallion narrowed his eyes and sat up straighter, focusing on him intently. He cringed. Probably not a great way to start a relationship with someone you’re trying to appease. Dash took her place between Fluttershy and Rarity, giving Gilda and him one last nod.

He continued on, at last coming upon Twilight. Wordlessly she reached up and nuzzled him lightly before glancing towards Gilda, looking back at him with confusion. Shoot. She didn’t know.

He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “A friend.”

She gave one last look at the griffon then turned back to him, nodding with a smile and motioning him towards the seat beside her. He turned to check up on Gilda before he left, satisfied to find her begrudgingly taking her seat between Twilight and Applejack. Alarms went off in his head as the cowpony flashed a frown at the griffon before turning her head away. Thankfully, Gilda’s attention had been focused entirely on the council across the table for her to notice. Come on Applejack, not now. Please, I know what she did, but you have to believe me.

He slowly turned away, reminding himself to keep his eye on the two throughout the dinner. Walking past Twilight, he took his seat who’s height matched that of his mothers, a small cut out from the back allowing his tail free movement. The princess’ throne sat at the head of the table, overlooking the entire congregation. As he got a better look of his surroundings, he noticed splotches of sauce dotting everypony’s plate, the hors d’oeuvres having already been served.

Despite the room already being dead silent, Celestia raised her hoof in attention. “Before we begin, I want to thank all of you for coming tonight. I understand we may have different opinions or outlooks upon certain things and that some of you may have busy schedules, but it is imperative that we reach a consensus on such a rupturing subject.”

“Excuse me, your majesty, but I believe we did come to a consensus,” a mare with a timid voice said lightly. “I thought it was agreed by the council that the dragon was too dangerous to live amongst ponies?”

Spike watched as his mother slowly faced the council member, her expression dull and unamused. “A consent was reached amongst the council, a consent which I strongly disapprove of. We are gathered here tonight to solve this conundrum.”

“Y-yes, your majesty,” the mare squeaked, recoiling from his mother’s deadpan voice.

A dark blue stallion raised his hoof tenderly.  “A meeting with you is always a pleasure, your highness, but how is a dinner supposed to sway the council’s opinion on a matter we have all unanimously agreed upon? Do you hope to impress us with his astounding manners?” he picked up her slack. Spike may not know much of the council, but he was already beginning to associate the group to a pack of timber wolves: knock one out and the rest of its friends would attack.

“Your majesty, dinner is ready. Shall we begin serving the first course?”

Spike looked over his chair to see a plump mare with a massive chef’s hat. Through the door behind her, he could make out a long line of other cooks prepared to wheel out the food upon metal racks. Steaming salad utilizing multiple types of high-quality leaves with chunks of cooked mushrooms, carrots, and tomato looked to be the first course. He gulped. The memory of throwing up his first salad popped into his mind, causing him to shiver. Best to just take a bite or two to distract the council. Eat extremely slow.

“You may, and thank you.” The chef bowed graciously at his mother’s kindness, clopping her two front hooves together. A dozen ponies, all in cooking attire, made their way out of the door and began serving the simmering bowl of vegetables. The council members looked upon the meal with approval and his friends’ mouths hung open at the sight of the delicacy. Spike’s only reassurance was a sympathetic look from Gilda, the griffon rolling her eyes up and opening her mouth in a silent gag. Hey, at least she could stomach it. “Please, worry yourselves not on anything but enjoying your meal.”

The bowl of salad was set before him. Should he eat it? He already knew the sensation of trying to stomach such a meal. Better off trying to eat a bowl of pebbles. Across the table the council was already readying their silverware either by magic or hoof. Twilight and Gilda were the only others hesitating, eyeing him with worry. Ignoring the unusable small silverware, Spike gingerly plucked a single leaf from the bowl.

The entire council stopped their feast and stared at him. Oh wonderful, even his friends were watching him with bated breath. Can’t back down now. He popped the leaf into his mouth, rolling it about with his tongue. A volatile, burning liquid rolled up in the back of his throat, coaxing him to rid the foul sludge from his being. Keep it down. Swallow it.

With a forceful gulp it slid down his throat like a slime-caked slug. Small convulsions racked his body until he gasped, trying to put on a believable smile for the council.

The little conversation that had started up with the introduction of dinner had ceased, reigning back in the tense silence. Even worse, every eye was on him now. A cough rang through the hall.

“You’re efforts are admirable, ...Spike? Is it?... but a good actor you are not,” a red stallion directly across the table from him said, shaking his head with disappointment. “Know that it is no grudge we hold against you, but simply a fear for the welfare of your friends and their families and the entire population of Equestria. Who is to say what could happen if you went on another rampage, only now with the desire for meat in your belly? The Wonderbolt strike force couldn’t stop you, so imagine how many ponies would die before the army could be assembled.”

What could he say? Every word from the councilpony was level-headed and reasonable. Now even his image of Twilight was soiled. His past nightmares flashed through his mind, that uncontrollable, smothering instinct forcing him to rip and tear her apart. Truly, how far were they from reality? He lowered down further into his chair. They hadn’t even passed the first course and he was already feeling defeated.

Twilight smacked a hoof against the table, causing him to shoot back up and drawing all attention away from him. He appreciated the gesture, really, but angry Twilight? He’d take the council anyday.  “And who’s to say Spike will just snap one day and decide to gobble ponies up?” Okay, just a little upset. For now. “He hasn’t hurt anypony his entire life, even during his accidental growth! What makes you think he would do it now?”

The stallion sniffed, adjusting his glasses. “You assume many things, young prodigal.”

“An’ you don’t?” Applejack joined in. “Ah may be just a simple farm pony, but ah can tell ya I know Spike a lick more than all dozen of ya combined! Believe me when ah say he’s more prankster than predator.” The rustled cowpony leaned back in her chair before shooting back up, leaning over the table. “And that’s just me! there are five others here that will tell ya the same thing in their own special way.”

“Six,” Gilda startled Spike by growling. There was that look again. Now there was no doubt. Applejack was already wary of the griffon, Maybe even suspicious.

“Seven, if I may correct you,” Celestia added playfully, distracting the two from their conflict. Did she do that purposefully, or just a harmless reminder? Knowing how much of a mastermind his mother could be, probably the former.

The same stallion who had convicted Spike of fleeing when he first entered threw his hooves into the air. “So let’s just agree we’re all assuming!” He folded his hooves. “We come back to the same conclusion as before: why risk endangering a whole town for just one dragon and its small group of friends?”

“If you honestly think us seven are Spike’s only friends in Ponyville, you’ve got another thing coming, sir. Unlike Canterlot, dear Ponyville is a much stronger, smaller, contained  community.” Now Rarity was joining in. He had never felt so loved yet so disliked at the same time. “Why, I could sit here for the rest of the night giving you names of ponies who have asked me of Spike’s health these past tragic months!”

The councilpony shrugged and leaned back in his chair.“Hearing is believing lady, so start spewing!”

Now Rarity was mad. By the end of dinner they’d be hoof-fighting. “Very well then! There’s Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Applebloom, Cheer—”

“Please, everypony,” Celestia interrupted. “None of you have even begun eating your first course. Let us continue discussion after we have a bit of energy, yes?”

Mumbling stirred up amongst the council, putting Spike at ease. They might be talking about him, but the silence was enough to make him scream. The fact that everyone else was currently working away at their food, however, was not lost on him. He looked down at the salad, his rumbling, churning stomach reminding him of what had happened just minutes before.

“Having twouble?” Gilda asked him with a beak full of salad. To Spike’s surprise she gulped it down and impaled another batch with her fork before shoving it into her beak.

“Jeeze Gilda! Didn’t know you were such a fan of steamed salad!” He watched with wide eyes as she chewed.

She waved her claw through the air before swallowing and clearing her throat. “Are you kidding me dude? We haven’t eaten for three days! I was thinking it was some dragon thing when you didn’t say anything about being hungry. I’m more impressed you aren’t shoving this garbage down your throat like me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as he returned to his bowl. “I... I can’t. It feels like I’m eating the sludge from Froggy Bottom Bog. I’d rather not eat anything than throw up in front of the council.” Twilight put a reassuring hoof on his side.

Gilda’s eyes shifted between his uneaten salad and her own bowl. “Alright then.” He watched her push away her bowl and drop her utensils. “I just won’t eat either.”

“Gilda, no.”

She didn’t respond, folding her arms and closing her eyes.

“Gilda, eat. Please.”

Nothing.

“Gilda, I appreciate the concern, really! But...”

Another hoof touched his shoulder. “Gilda, your actions and dedication are admirable, but I have kept my son’s needs in thought. There will be gems for him come the second course,” Celestia said lightly.

The griffon opened a single eye before begrudgingly resuming picking at her salad. “You win this time,” she huffed before taking another bite.

So he waited. His lack of eating soon caught the council’s attention, garnering grim nods and hushed whispers. Before long, he was feeling awkward, isolated. Alone. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe they were right. Maybe he didn’t belong.

“Psst.” Yet another hoof poked him, this time on the leg. “Spike!”

He turned to see a pink pony dancing excitedly on her hooves. “Pinkie?”

“Yeah!” she whispered. “I got a secret I need to tell you. Get down here!”

He looked at her in confusion then shrugged, lowering his head. “Yeah?”

“Closer. It’s a big secret.”

He went lower.

“Closer!”

Lower. He was nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with her now. This had better be a good sec—

“SURPRISE HUG!”

Spike jumped as the pink pony pounced upon his snout— no — his whole face. He should have seen this coming, really. Just goes to show what even three months away from Pinkie does to you. Luckily the reaction from the council wasn’t as terrible as he was expecting. The majority crossed their hooves, glaring daggers at him, but he caught the timid mare giggling and the red and the blue stallions from before cracking smiles. Ponies after all.

Pinkie backed down, bopping him on the nose. “This is the slowest dinner party I’ve ever been in. I couldn’t wait till it was over to say hi!” she whispered.

“It’s ok Pinkie, I’m happy to see you too,” he said, trying to wipe the big stupid grin off his face.

“Pinkie!” Rarity hissed as she approached them, her head lowered. “This is supposed to be formal! You can’t just go jumping on Spike like that! Oh, and hi Spike.” She smiled up at him, giving a small wave. Before he could respond, Rarity was dragging Pinkie by her tail back to her seat.

“Glad to see that some things never change,” Gilda said with dripping sarcasm, refusing to look at the pink pony. “And by glad I mean horribly disappointed.”

The spines on Spike’s back tingled as Twilight shifted uncomfortably next to him. He dared not even check on Applejack.

“Well, Gilda.” Oh no. Please Twilight, just stop now. Don’t say anything. “That’s just the kind of pony Pinkie is. She can’t help but bring a little comedy into everyrone’s life.”

Ok Gilda, now is your chance, just snort and roll your eyes.

“‘Comedy’ huh? Is that what ponies call being annoying as all hell these days?”

Spike grimaced as he heard Applejack slam her fork down. “Now listen here! Ah don’t know what the hay is wrong with you, but ah’m a might more annoyed by your constant hate than I am by Pinkie’s antics!”

While he could only see Gilda’s back, he could imagine the fire in the griffon’s eyes as she wheeled towards the earth pony. “Pretty sure you’d find any form of humor funny after wrangling pigs all day Ms. Bucktooth!”

He had to think of something fast. While other conversations echoed through the dining hall, Gilda and Applejack’s dispute was quickly gaining the attention of a few council members. Two friends arguing was terrible enough, but he couldn’t afford to give the council anymore bait along with Gilda’s race. As if answering his prayers, the plump chef mare from before swung open the doors behind him, the long line of trays lingering in the passageway beside her.

“Oh look!” Spike cried out, his deep unintentionally-menacing voice causing several ponies to jump. “The second course! What are we having Ms. —er— chef?”

The chef recoiled, glancing between him and his mother. “Uh, the second course is ready, your majesty?”

“You may begin serving.” He sighed as Celestia affirmed. He checked on his two quarreling friends. Gilda sat simmering, her eyes straight forward with a fierce scowl across her face. Meanwhile, Applejack seemed to worriedly question Rarity, opening her mouth wide to the fashion pony who shook her head and patted her on the shoulder. It was only a quick fix, but at least the crisis had been averted.

Instead of receiving the second course, a potato soup, a bowl filled to the brim with sapphires was set before him. At last it hit him. His stomach dropped, his knees weakened, and his whole body began to shake.

He was hungry. Starving.

Forget manners. He began popping the sapphires into his mouth like a machine, the loud crunching of gems sounding like a freight train against the gentle sips of soups. He froze mid-chew, looking up at the council. There they went, again, staring at him like he was some malformed monster. What? Was eating gems considered taboo now too?

A brown mare gaped at him in horror. “How... how do you stomach that??” she cried. “Much less chew them! Do they not cut up your gums?”

Curiosity instead of fear. He could live that. After swallowing the load of gems he licked his chops and cleared his throat. “Nope! The inner walls of my mouth and my teeth are way too tough for that. Would take a lot more than some  gems to mess ‘em up. As for eating them? No idea. Dragons eat gems! Go figure!”

“Indeed, imagine my surprise when I came back to my royal chambers one day to find him already having half-eaten one of my jewel pieces,” Celestia said with a mischievous tone causing him to snicker. “I was panicking and having the doctors monitor his health for the rest of the week. Of course it was just another one of many wonderful traits dragons have.”

“Now wait, why don’t you just eat gems instead of meat?” the red stallion asked.

“See, I tried that back when I started throwing up all the salads and hayfries and stuff, but...” How could he explain this? He looked around the room before freezing on his friends. “Ah! Pinkie!”

“Sup Spike!” Pinkie leaned forward on the table so she could see him.

“You like candy don’t you?”

“No.”

Silence again. He could hear the crickets chirping all the way from the palace gardens.

Oh. Well, this was awkward. Seems like Pinkie had become a pure vegetarian over the three months he had been gone.

“Uh, so, what I’m trying to say is—”

“I FREAKING LOVE CANDY!”

“Right!” Three months. He had to get back into Pinkie’s flow. “So you love candy! Now, candy isn’t all you eat right?”

“Nope! But I tried once! But then I got sick and for the whole next day I was like BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEGH”

“Yeah, so—”

“BLEEEEEEEEEGH”

“—Gems are—”

“BLEEEEEEEEEEE—”

Pinkie’s reenactment became muffled as Rarity leapt from her seat and shoved a hoof into her mouth. Figures that when he finally wanted the council’s attention they were busy watching his two friends wrestling.

“Anyways,” he said loudly, regaining their attention, “gems are kind of like candy for dragons: sweet and tasty, but they’ll make you sick if they’re all you eat.”

“What a shame,” the timid mare huffed, seeming geniunely upset.

“Not quite,” the red stallion spoke again. “We still come to the same dead end: he is a carnivorous being with the possibility of rampaging at a moment’s notice.” It was strange. The more the councilpony talked, the more Spike felt as if they had met before. He hadn’t met any of the council before though, had he? Was this just a case of déjà vu?

“Excuse me, sir? What’s your name?”

The stallion’s glasses nearly leapt from his face as the spotlight fell on him. He looked back at Spike with complete shock. “My- my name? Oh! Yes! Of course! It’s Watergate. Mr. Watergate.”

Hmmmm. Nothing. Maybe just a coincidence. Still, Might as well keep up the small talk to avoid the awkwardness. “So what do you like to do?”

“I’m not quite sure I understand,” Watergate said warily.

“You know, like after work? How do you relax after a long hard day of banishing dragons?” Spike asked jokingly.

The stallion rose a hoof to his mouth, shifting in his seat. “I don’t really have much alone time anymore I suppose. Most of my day is spent planning or in meetings or in public showings.”

“Well no wonder you’re so uptight! You’re too busy working all day!” Dash scoffed. “Even Twilight over here hangs out with friends when she isn’t studying and she’s the biggest egghead I know!”

Watergate hesitated.

“Here’s a bit of info for you missy,” the same boisterous stallion barged in instead. Did he say his name yet? Too many members to keep up with.“Being a part of the council is a lot more difficult than reading books or pushing clouds around all day. It takes sweat! Hard work! Dedication!”

A now free Pinkie jumped up in her seat. “All the more reason you need a fun party!”

“No! No partying!”

“Could get a bit of extra free time if you just dropped this whole ‘banishment’ deal. Make it easy for both of us,” Spike joked with a small sliver of hope.

A single, short laugh was his only response. “Look! He has a sense of humor now!”

“Believe me, he’s always had that,” Twilight said, giving Spike a small wink. He nodded towards her with an uneasy smile. Really, he had never felt so torn before. Any minute now and he would rip in two.

“Your majesty, the third course is prepared,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

“You may begin serving,” the princess spoke in her signature soft voice. How did she manage to do that in such a situation? Either his mother had too much faith in his ability to argue against the council, or she had a lot of hope riding on this experiment.

A plate slid into view. No gems this time. Instead, a familiar daisy-daffodil sandwich. Twilight liked to order these back at that fancy restaurant in Ponyville. What was it’s name again? Wait. Scratch that. Why was he getting the sandwich in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better to get nothing at all and keep snacking on the few remaining gems? Now it just looked weird. Sitting. With an inedible sandwich in front of him.

And now the council was all staring again. Great.

“So no grains either?” Watergate asked. Like he doesn’t already know the answer to that.

“Gems and the occasional meat. That’s it,” he said it as bluntly as possible. No reason to skip around on the subject. Now that he thought about it, probably no reason to stress it so hard either.

Watergate sighed, gazing over at Spike’s sandwich. “Do not understand me wrong, princess, the dinner has been enjoyable, but I’m afraid I don’t see its point. Unless you plan to win over the council’s  heart by displaying to us his admittedly excellent table manners, then this has all been a waste!”

“Would table manners be sufficient?” his mother asked, tilting her head. Watergate crossed his hooves and frowned at her. Darn. Well. Nice try at least.

Spike gently pushed away the daffodil sandwich and reached for his bowl of gems. Only a few sapphires left. Better ration them. He popped one into his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue a bit before chewing it to pieces. Two more. Watergate had begun nibbling away at his own sandwich, his eyes still focused upon him. Alright, he wants to play this game? Spike could do that to. The councilpony’s cocked an eyebrow as he met his gaze. Then they stared. Awkward, totally, but neither dared look away. His eyes narrowed. Spike copied. He shifted his shoulders slightly. Spike mimicked.

“So Spike, tell us about your time in the Central Wilds,” Watergate said. They held their gaze.

“What do you want me to tell you? It was boring, lonely, depressing. I can go on if you want.” Spike picked up another gem, tossing it into his mouth without looking away.

“Lonely? I thought dragons were used to that sort of thing?” The stallion picked up his sandwich and took a small bite.

Crunch. One more. “Most dragons aren’t raised by ponies.”

“And for good reason, as we have seen.”

Ouch. He tried to retaliate, but only found himself reaching for the last gem. Watergate’s eyes had hardened, sensing his weakness. He instinctively put the sapphire into his mouth.

“So you lived out in the Wilds for, what, three months? You must have learned to hunt to get the meat you needed right?”

He caressed the gem between his tongue and teeth. Would have to hold onto this one for awhile. “Actually, I taught myself to hunt back while I was still in Ponyville. It was just a little thing I did right before bed you know? It was like eating dinner. Something you do naturally. Nopony knew or had to know.”

“Until...”

Crunch. All gone. Spike closed his eyes, unable to match his opponent’s victorious stare. Twilight began to say something. Didn’t matter. Every sound around him had coalesced in to some strange white noise. He couldn’t understand anything.

“I... I don’t mind.”

The blur of conversation shattered. Fluttershy’s voice was the same as ever: quiet, soft, and barely audible. Yet it had rung out loud and clear. Spike opened his eyes and looked towards his friend. Her head was lowered and she wore a pained expression, but she held her ground.

“Excuse me?” Watergate asked. No. She’s done enough. Leave her alone.  “You don’t mind? What ever do you mean?”

“It’s okay if Spike h-hunts,” she squeaked out. “I know I caused a lot of trouble when I got scared, but it’s natural. I mean, even cute otters hunt for fish and—”

“Wait you were the one that reported the incident?” Wattergate guffawed. “All we ever heard was that it was from a Ponyville resident!”

The timid councilmare raised a hoof to her to mouth. “Oh dear you must feel so guilty! But don’t worry, you did the right thing.”

Fluttershy lowered into her seat. Of course she felt guilty. You all made her feel guilty. She didn’t respond, hanging her head in defeat. That’s fine. She’s done all she could. Right here, right now, it truly was the thought that counted. But not for the council.

“I think its all coming together.” Watergate placed his hooves down on the table, bringing them together in deep thought. “Much like a loving parent must say farewell to their child come a certain age, I believe it is time for all of you to simply let Spike go. Let him roam free in the wild.”

Oh boy.

Rainbow Dash was the first to react, the jingle of silverware sounding as she slammed her hooves down. “You are asking for it buddy!”

“What the hay are ya implyin’?” Applejack shouted.

Fluttershy silently shook her head.

“I’ll be certain to let my sister out into the Everfree when I get back to Ponyville so she can ‘roam free’! Utterly ridiculous!” Rarity huffed.

Pinkie was laughing, only to suddenly stop and look around at her angered friends. “Oh. That wasn’t a joke?”

Gilda held her word to the princess and seethed. No. Seethed is the wrong word. If looks could kill, Watergate would have evaporated into thin air under the griffon’s gaze. ‘Plotted to murder’ would be more satisfactory, albeit not a single word.

“Did you not hear him when he told you that his banishment was miserable?” Twilight had lost her worried-yet-steady voice and replaced it with worried-yet-angry. “Stop thinking of him as some kind of animal!”

“Ladies! Please! Calm down!” Watergate raised his hooves in defense. “It comes down to basic nature! Ponies are meant to work together. Look! Cities! Farms! Dragons are meant to be alone. Have you ever seen a dragon city? Like I said, basic nature.” He pointed a hoof at Spike. “For goodness sake look at him. He’s covered in scars from head to hoof from fighting other wildlife! That’s fine, it’s in his nature.”

“No.”

Spike watched as every head turned towards Gilda before following them. Her fork twirled around as she spun it with her claw. Of course it was bent in half. He could try to stop her, but no. He knew her too well. She was going to have her say, and no one was going to stop her.

“Sorry to ruin your ‘nature’ fantasies, but all of Spike’s scars have been from griffons.” Gilda tapped the fork against the table. “He also didn’t fight any wildlife. You must be feeling pretty stupid right now huh?”

Spike tensed and tried to keep his expression calm. Watch it Gilda...

Watergate ignored her scathing remark and waved a hoof through the air. “Manticores, cockatrices, griffons, whatever. In the end it’s all fighting.”

“NO.” Everyone besides him and Celestia jumped at her shout. “He was attacked! It was self defense! He chose none of those fights!”

“Care to tell us why, exactly, griffons are attacking dragons?”

Gilda hesitated then growled. “I came here as Spike and Dash’s friend. Not your scout.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see the rainbow mare throw her hooves into the air in a silent cheer.

“Mmmmmm,” he hummed, taking a sip from his water. “Let me guess. Going to stay for a nice visit of a week or two before heading back? Get some good knowledge of the daily lives of our beautiful elements here and then—”

“STOP!” Spike roared. Watergate flinched as he went for another sip, a bit of water splashing across his face. “She said she came here as our friend and that’s final!”

“Seriously!” Dash followed him up. “At first I just though you had something against dragons. Now I’m beginning to think your some paranoid psycho! Gone to a doctor lately?”

Watergate adjusted his tie, frowning. Spike was ready. Gilda and Dash surely were. Go ahead. What’s next? Rainbow manes are a new-age sign of heresy? Gilda was actually an assassin? He opened his mouth.

“Watergate, I will tolerate the council’s concerns of Spike, but there will be no further accusations against Gilda. Your vision and thoughts have clearly been affected by our recent conflicts against the Empire. Stand down.” The stallion snorted before relaxing and returning to nibbling on his daffodil sandwich. His mother turned her attention towards him and his friends. “You as well, Spike, Gilda, and Rainbow Dash.”

Spike nodded and relaxed. Dash grumbled and sat back down in her chair. Gilda glared.

His mother gestured behind him. “You may begin serving the final course.”

Only one more course to go. He doubted the possibility of winning over the council through niceties after that little conflict. So far, everything he had done and said had only made the situation worse. Better let mom handle the rest and just keep rationing these gems. He reached down into the bowl, looking down in surprise when he found nothing within. When had that happened? Awesome. Here comes another full course of awkwardness.

So this was the final course. A single large leaf with a various assortment of berries lining its top. Strawberries, blueberries, grapes... back in his childhood he may have found this enjoyable. Probably would have picked off the fruit and left the leaf to rot. Now all he could do was push it away and fold his claws together.

Still, for some odd reason it smelled really good.

A shriek pierced the clinking of silverware. The timid council mare covered her mouth with both hooves, her eyes widened in horror. “Look!” she cried out, removing one of her hooves to point towards him. Had he done something wrong? Or was she pointing behind him? Spike looked over his chair in confusion.

There, sitting atop an enormous silver platter, was a cooked boar being wheeled towards him.

What?? No! Stop! What was his mother thinking?? Spike froze up. He couldn’t shout, beg for it to be taken away. Not now. Not with all the council watching. If this was part of the experiment, then he had to stick it through. For his friends. Still... his nightmares, fear of losing control... already the smell was causing his mouth to water. What if the council was right? Who was Spike to know anything about dragons, the whelp who had spent his childhood learning about ponies? Just breathe. Relax. Block the smell. That sweet, succulent, smell of tender, cooked meat.

“By the goddess what is the meaning of this??” The boastful stallion roared, pinning his back to his chair.

Stare at the ceiling. Staring at the ceiling. Ignore the giant luscious boar being placed in front of you right now. Man this ceiling sure is decorated. How did they get up there? Oh yeah, hire a few pegasi. Pretty obvious one there.

“Either you have gone mad, princess, or you’ve decided to further confirm the council’s belief through unethical methods,” Watergate said, a horrified undertone seeping through his mask of calmness. Even while Spike tried to distract himself, he couldn’t help but see the councilpony shove an accusing hoof towards him. “Look at him! He’s slack-jawed drooling like a raving dog over that dead boar!”

He closed his mouth. Gasps and whispers from his friends only made the situation worst. Couldn’t blame them of course. Living your whole life with ponies taught you that what lay before him as an abomination. He could only imagine Fluttershy’s face right now. Imagine. He dared not look.

“Spike.” Celestia reached towards him, touching his shoulder. He peeled himself away from the ceiling, looking back at his mother with pained eyes. “Do not be ashamed. It is only natural.” Her support was lost on him. Of course it was natural. That was the council’s entire argument.

“Hey Spike,” Gilda called out, leaning forward and appraising the boar. “Make sure to pass that over here if ya don’t finish the whole thing.”

The council grunted and murmured. Spike laughed. His time spent hunting with Gilda came flooding back. Teaching her how to move through the forest, her own hastiness working against her, her rage at missing prey, and her joy when she finally got a catch of her own. There were no words about whether it was wrong or right, just a single goal. And each other.

He finished his fit of chuckling, stealing a glance at Gilda. She wore a devilish grin, snickering at the ponies around her. The moment she noticed him, her grin transformed into a confident smile and she jerked her head towards his mother.

Right. He had to see this experiment through. For his friends. He turned back to his mother, giving her a nod. Instead of the uncertain thoughts that had plagued him before, everything seem whitewashed, clear. He could do this.

His mother gave him one last look of concern before retreating. She raised her hooves and clopped them together, sending a muffled, resonating boom through the hall. “Sovereign!”

The main doors from which he, Gilda, and Dash had entered from swung open, allowing the aged butler to hobble his way in. Held aloft in one hoof, a small silver band sat snugly upon a violet cushion. Was that the experiment? Seemed more like a cheap ring a pony would wear on one of their hooves than some nature-altering super-device.

“Ah I see. So this is that experiment you’ve been keeping us in the dark about,” Watergate mused, eyeing the band suspiciously as Sovereign passed Spike and made his way to his mother. “This had better be good. The way you had us word that letter we helped you with made it sound like the greatest invention since the airship.”

“Sometimes, Mr. Watergate,” his mother thanked Sovereign then levitated the band from the cushion, allowing it to float beside her, “simplicity can be a beautiful thing. Spike.” A click came from the band as half of it popped back. Did she plan to put that around his finger? What was it going to do? Change him? Affect his thoughts? He shook his head. Come on. Trust her. She’s your mom. She knows what she’s doing.

Spike took a deep breath and bowed his head. “Ready.”

The opened band shimmered, growing before his eyes until it had doubled in size. It floated forward, approaching him directly. Not his finger, he realized, but his neck. He gulped, closing his eyes. The feeling of cold whatever-the-hay-metal-this-thing-was-made-of encircled a portion of his neck, causing him to shudder. Everyone else held their breath, turning the air stale and lifeless.

The band snapped close. Everyone gasped.

Spike opened his eyes, bringing up trembling appendages.

Huh. Nope. Still claws. He looked around the room, noticing the same confused stare from his friends and the council.

“Nothing happened,” Watergate said bluntly. Can’t argue. He didn’t feel any different.

“Spike, eat your salad,” his mother said in almost a casual tone.

So that was it. Spike reached over the boar for the first course, pushing it aside with his other claw. After setting the bowl down in front of himself, he plucked out a leaf, inspecting it warily as it dangled in his claw. Hope this works. Throwing up in front of the whole council would not be very convincing. He steeled himself and slid the leaf into his maw.

The difference was immediate. No gagging on a muddy, bitter taste. Instead, it tasted like... nothing. Kind of like edible water. He swallowed the vegetation, awaiting the surge of bile that followed. Once again, nothing. This was strange.

“Spike, are you alright?” His mother asked with concern.

He snapped out of his stupor, noticing everyone staring at him. “Yeah. I guess. So... I can eat vegetables now?”

Celestia nodded. “Indeed. This band allows you to eat and digest just as you were when you were younger.”

“This changes nothing. We could care less what he can eat. It’s what he wants to eat that has us concerned,” Watergate said.

“I have taken your fears into consideration as well. Spike, the boar, if you will.” His mother gestured at the steaming meal before him.

“Ugh!” the councilpony grunted as hisses and whispers erupted from across the table. “I do not need to see this!”

“Then he is free to go?” Celestia asked calmly.

Watergrate grimaced before shaking his head. “Fine! Do it!”

Spike flinched at his shout. His friends weren’t doing much better to help with their faces frozen in horror. His only support came from a concerned mother and sister. Even Gilda had her claws folded, eyeing the band around his neck with a fierce scowl. Best to ignore everyone and get this over with before it got to his head. He looked down and inspected the boar warily. The dish still looked tasty, but the watering in his mouth had dried up and the pleasant scent faded away. Only one thing to do now.

He stopped himself before digging in with his claws. Better to save as much face as possible. Picking up his fork and knife, he weathered the gasps of despair as he cut away a small slice from the boar’s stomach.

“Stop dragging it out! Get it over with!” Watergate shouted with a strained tone.

He shoved it into his mouth. Bad idea. He had no idea what magic was in this band, but it had turned the taste of meat into... he didn’t even want to think of it. He had stomached many harsh things in his life, but this was beyond his league. He spat the chunk of saliva-covered meat back out into his salad bowl, signalling a loud groan of disgust from the council.

“Are you well, Spike?” his mother whispered to him.

He spat another gunk of saliva into the bowl. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.Will just take a few days to get this taste out of my mouth.”

She turned back to the council. “As you can see, his lust for meat has been sated. Your fears have been addressed.”

“Addressed??” Watergate threw his hooves in the air. “You’ve only tackled the main problem! There are countless number of other reasons for banishment that I can list!”

“Sadly, I fear this meeting is coming to a close. Perhaps we can schedule another for tomorrow?” His mother asked nonchalantly.

“Tomorrow? My schedule is filled! Talks with the Empire’s ambassador, public showings, meetings, there’s no way I could fit in another!”

“I’m sure we could find some time.”

Watergate gaped at her. “Are you trying to rob me of my sanity??”

“This is your endeavor, Watergate. I have given the time and method to fix your main concern. Any further conflicts your crusade desires will be on your time.”

The room fell silent as the councilpony relaxed. Finally, he began to slowly nod. “The only reason we’re not going to simply spread the word that a dangerous creature  is currently endangering one of our towns is the fact that we are currently in unstable connections with an army of another.”

“We?” The boisterous councilstallion from either shouted. “What so suddenly makes you the spokesperson for the rest of us? I won’t let this monster endanger us all after what happened before!”

Watergate slammed a hoof on the table, stunning his peer. “Raffle, knock some sense into yourself! Word of our conflict with the Empire has already spread across the country. Causing even more panic could potentially be a far more devastating outcome than a single dragon.” He hesitated. “Potentially.”

“Intelligent thinking, Mr. Watergate.” His mother commended.

The councilpony only snorted in response before leaning forward. “But I’m not just going to let this problem go unchecked either. Your majesty, you are able to send letters to Spike, correct?”

Spike didn’t like the sound of that, and judging from his mother’s narrowing eyes, neither did she. “...Yes. Why?”

“I want to be able to contact Spike at any moment I desire. You know, send him a signal so we can meet up, check on how he’s doing.” He tilted his head. “Make sure that band is staying on.”

His mother lingered upon the councilpony before turning towards him. “Spike, I will not teach him the spell without your consent.”

“Oh, and if you’re having any doubts with that band, leave now and don’t waste my time,” Watergate said.

Spike mused while looking around the room. The council was in disarray, arguing amongst each other. Only Watergate gazed at him with hard eyes, patiently awaiting a response. To his side, his friends all waited expectantly for him. Gilda wore the same scowl from before, her gaze still locked upon the band. On the opposite side, his mother’s eyes were aglow with a sad victory. He understood. She had won his freedom in Equestria, yet enslaved him at the same time. Finally, he looked down upon the band. It was a dull, lifeless silver, a blot against his brilliant violet and emerald scales. No taste and no meat was bad, but they were small sacrifices for his friends. Not to mention, he always had gems. And if he ever did go on a violent rampage, he’d vomit his guts out at the first taste of flesh.

“Teach him.” Spike nodded towards his mother then turned to Watergate. “This band is everything I could have asked for. I have no doubts.”

His mother raised her hooves again, clopping them together. The same dull thunder trembled through the hall, silencing the council. “Then we have reached a conclusion. Tomorrow I will teach Mr. Watergate the spell to contact Spike through scroll. Mr. Watergate, understand that you will not teach this spell to anyone else, lest you face sever consequences.” Watergate bowed his head in response. “Spike will resume being a citizen of Ponyville and have full Equestrian rights. If any of you wish to contend this, you may approach me later.” His mother looked over the table one last time before lowering her hooves and bowing slightly. “Thus, this meeting is adjourned. Thank you all for coming.”

“Yes!” He heard Pinkie shout. Twilight wrapped her hooves against his right arm. He bent down and brought her into a tight embrace. Only seconds after his freedom and he already felt home again.

They stayed in each other’s arms until Spike slowly broke away. He had to get out of this room. “Twilight, I can’t be by this boar any longer.”

“Come,” his mother said, rising from her chair and trotting to his side “we can all converse further within the grand ballroom. This hall is tainted with bad air and... flies,” she finished, glancing over at the council.

As he followed his mother, his friends rose from their seats and greeted him before trotting with him. Everyone but Fluttershy, Twilight, and Gilda beamed at him with pure happiness. Gilda was still upset, Twilight smiled softly but continued to eye him with concern, and Fluttershy’s head was bowed, her eyes hidden by long pink locks.

The bickering of the council faded away as he crossed through the opened double doors and entered the grand ballroom he had traversed before. Gilda stormed in front of him to the ballroom’s center before spinning around and flaring out her wings.

“There is no way that thing is staying on!” she screeched.

“Hey chill out Gilda!” Rainbow Dash jumped in front of him. “You heard that goon. Spike needs that band or they’ll go ratting on him and causing all kinds of chaos. You don’t want him to be covered in pony reporters and protesters do you?”

“Like that will matter! Travelers will come along and spread the word themselves. And stop calling it a ‘band’! It’s a damn dog collar!”

Celestia stepped forward, nodding to her. “Your fears are honest, Gilda, but Spike’s presence in Ponyville is not a secret. It was simply the council’s ability to spread fear that I was concerned of. This band helps quell that problem for now.”

“There it is with ‘band’ again,” Gilda scoffed. “Screw this.” She began making her way to the door connecting to the gardens.

“Gilda, wait!” Maybe it was the familiar tone of her voice he had heard weeks before, maybe it was just him assuming the worst, but something in Spike snapped, causing him to lurch towards the griffon with an outstretched claw.  

It must have been the look in his eyes. The moment she glanced back over her shoulder at him, she froze up, her furrowed brows and hard eyes softening. She walked back to him.

“Don’t worry. Just to need to blow off some steam. Just getting some fresh air,” she said softly so only he could hear.

Of course. He felt stupid. There was no way she would leave again. He hoped. “Heh, right. Sorry. Kind of overreacted there.”

“Catch you in a bit?” she asked, raising up her claw.

“Definitely.” He returned the claw bump then watched her leave for the door. Just taking a breather, calm down Spike. Should probably start saying hello to my—

In the blink of an eye he was on the ground.  He groaned rolling over slightly to come face-to-face with an eye-full of pink.

“We won! We won! Spike’s coming home!” Pinkie cried as she straddled his belly.

“I don’t think ‘won’ is the right word Pinkie,” he said. “I’ve still got this coll- I mean band to get used to and Watergate didn’t seem finished yet.”

Pinke shook her head then— oof— stuck her face right into his in a playful nuzzle. “That old meaniehead is just full of hot air. Besides, you’re home! As soon as we get back to Ponyville, BAM! A welcome home party for Spike!”

“Pinkie, I’m sot sure if a party...” He stopped himself. Three months too long. He should know better than to try and stop Pinkie from throwing a party, especially after he had been gone for so long. See? He was already beginning to get readjusted. “Pinkie, a party sounds great.”

“Woohoo! I’m going to start making invitations right now!” She dashed off towards the double doors that led into the grand hall.

“Does she even know her way around the palace?” Rarity asked as she trotted to his side, watching the pink pony burst out of the ballroom. “Bah, I’m sure she’ll find her way. Now about that awful thing around your neck...”

“Rarity, you didn’t hear what I just told Gilda? I have to wear this!” he said, rising back to his feet.

“No no no dear, not that, I mean that ghastly silver looks absolutely horrid against your brilliant scales! If you could just give me an hour of work, I could turn it into something acceptable so you can walk about town without embarrassment.”

“I like the sound of that. Maybe repay you by digging up a few gems?” Spike asked.

Rarity’s eyes flashed as she beamed with excitement. “That would be wondrous! I’ve fallen so far behind in my gem hunting with you gone that I’ve had to dig up my back up containers. Not to mention it would be a great way to catch back up after those dreadful three months.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Spike extended a claw.

She pushed his claw out of the way and embraced him, wrapping her hooves around his stomach. “Oh Spike I’m so glad your back! While you were gone, I was worried that I... that I’d never see you again.”

He returned the hug, holding her softly. “It’s ok. I’m back. I’m home now.”

“Forgive me.” She backed away, wiping tears from her eyes. “Very unladylike of me to cry here. There are others waiting and I won’t stand here wallowing.” She began walking away before calling back over her shoulder. “Remember, as soon as we get back to Ponyville, that... thing gets redecorated.”

“Glad to see that some things never change.” Applejack took Rarity’s place, smiling up at him. “Mighty glad to see ya back Spike. Things were gettin’ far too dull with ya gone. Even Pinkie was movin’ a bit slower than her usual self.”

“Kept your eye on Twilight for me while I was gone?” Spike asked, smiling back.

Applejack’s expression turned grim. “Darn girl scared me a bit there, lockin’ herself up in the library for the past few months. Now that you’re back, she seems to be loosenin’ up a bit.”

He sighed. He had to talk to Twilight. But first, “Applejack, about Gilda...”

“Pah!” She waved a hoof at him. “Don’t worry about it none. If you and Dash can be friends with her, ah’m sure there’s somethin’ in there ah just haven’t found yet. Gimme some time is all ah’m askin’.” She brought a hoof up to her chin. “Still, kinda curious how she just shows up out of nowhere. But ah’m ramblin’. Ya need to  talk to Twilight, so I’ll let ya go.”

Applejack stepped aside. Ahead of him, his mother and sister were talking in hushed whispers. Not yet. He veered off towards Rainbow Dash and the yellow pegasus she was chatting with. As he approached, Fluttershy turned her attention towards him, lowering her head in reaction. Dash tilted her head before realizing he was coming. She immediately wrapped a hoof around her friend’s shoulder in support.

“Heya Spike! Was just talking to Fluttershy about dinner. I thought it was great! Man that daffodil sandwich and salad were awesome! What did you think Fluttershy?” Dash forced out a smile, shaking her friend slightly.

“It was nice.”

No. This was not happening. He lowered himself down gently so that they were eye level. She flinched slightly, trying to back away from him only to be held in place by Dash. Her eyes were downcast, averted from his. “Fluttershy.” No response. “Fluttershy, look at me please.”

The troubled pegasus lifted her head slowly until her guilt-stricken eyes met his. Was this how she had been for the past three months? All of this suffering his friends were enduring, all because some stuck up ponies were afraid of the unknown. This was going to take more than a few words to fix.

“Listen, that councilmare was right. You did the right thing, telling Twilight about what happened.” She tried to deny it, to look away from him. Dash held her firmly. “It was the council that was wrong. Not you.” Nothing. “I know you won’t admit it, but I just want to tell you that you did nothing wrong, you’re still my friend, and I’m so happy to see you again.”

Nothing still. He felt defeated, like he had lost a decisive battle. He bowed his head before turning to Dash.

“I’m happy to see you too Spike.”

He looked back at Fluttershy. She met his eyes for only a few moments before lowering her head once again. He didn’t care. That one, faint, squeaked sentence was enough, opened up doors that he had feared to be sealed shut. “Thanks Fluttershy.”

Rainbow Dash released her grasp, allowing her to walk away towards Rarity and Applejack. “That actually went better than I was expecting,” she said, watching her go. “She and Twilight were almost impossible to talk to while you were gone.”

As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. That couldn’t have gone any better. Baby steps, Spike. You’re home now. No need to rush anything. “Dash, can I ask a favor?”

“Sure thing! Whatcha need?”

He turned towards the door leading outside to the palace gardens. “Can you go check up on Gilda for me? I’m worried about her, especially with all of this griffon-war stuff going on amongst the Canterlot ponies.”

Dash rose to her hooves. “Smart idea. Gilda didn’t look too happy when she left. I’ll talk to her while you patch things up with Twilight.”

While Dash exited for the gardens, he focused his attention upon his mother and sister. The two mares hadn’t moved from their spot next to the stairs, their eyes unwavering as if in a staring contest.. Were they arguing? When he approached, both of them broke off their conversation, smiling at him. That was not a normal smile. Something was happening here.

“Spike, you, Celestia, and me need to talk in private.”

Uh oh.

“Uh, sure. Where to?”

“Follow me.” His mother rotated around Twilight and began trotting up the nearby stairs. He followed behind her side-by-side with Twilight. Unlike the soft, grateful presence she had maintained since he returned, Twilight trotted beside him with a face of stone and furrowed eyebrows. They reached the top, coming upon another double door which the princess help open for them. The room beyond was a much smaller, more contained area than the grand ballroom. Chairs sat aside petite tea tables, satin couches dotted the walls, and even a few bookshelves held tomes for those more in the mood for reading than conversing. Across the way, a paned clear-glass door led to a balcony that overlooked the palace gardens. Overall pleasant, relaxing. Probably used as a small ‘get-away’ section to escape the hustle and bustle of ballroom parties.

“So, Spike, how are you feeling?” Twilight asked as she and his mother stopped in front of him.

Suspicious. Her tone made it sound more like she was expecting a certain answer more than an honest response. Something in the back of his mind told him that the conversation from downstairs was still in effect.   

Best to just answer honestly. “Feeling good. Got my friends, my family, my freedom. I guess the only bad thing is the council and this weird band and all of the craziness it brings, but I’m fine.”

She didn’t respond, staring at him uneasily. Obviously not the answer she wanted. “What exactly happened on your way back home?”

“I was uh... attacked.”

“I see,” she said with grim confirmation.

“Look, I’m fine! I’m back home. So I got attacked. I’m still alive aren’t I? I’ll get over it.”

Twilight grimaced. “Get over it? Spike, you’re covered in scars and now you come back just to be met with some strange device that changes the way you eat!” She sighed, rubbing her head with a hoof. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Spike, if there is anything I can do, any fears you have or want to discuss, Twilight and I are here for you,” his mother said.

“No really, I’m fine!” He held up his claws defensively. “Sure, I got a few scars, but I’m back right? No more banishment.”

“You shouldn’t have even been banished in the first place!” Twilight shouted.

“Twilight...”

His mother turned away, trotting to the balcony door. “I shall leave you both be. If either of you wish to speak with me, I shall await you outside.”

Whoa! What the heck was happening? “Mom?” It was too late. The door to the balcony eased shut, leaving her a milky blur through the panes of glass. “Twilight, what happened?”

“Spike, I’m so sorry about all of this. About everything.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Spike stop blowing this off. You were gone for three months!”

“But Twilight, I already—”

“For something that wasn’t even your fault! That you had no control over!”

“Yeah that did kind of suck but—”

“And then when you come back you’re nearly bleeding to death and have a broken arm!”

“Well... yeah that was pretty bad...”

“And now, you have to wear this... this... thing just so you can stay home, where you belong! Celestia failed you and she knows it!”

He was stunned. Had he forgiven his mother too quickly? Should he still be upset? Resenting her?  His thoughts were a jumbled mess, struggling to find some place of leverage. What was the worth of forgiveness when banishment was just a band-less neck away? What was stopping his mother from letting the council slip through her hooves again? What was stopping Gilda from just—

He stopped himself. Where would Gilda be now if he had never waited for, never forgave her for leaving? Not here, that’s for sure. He’d be deprived of the one person who truly understood him anymore. Yes, he had his scars. Yes, Gilda’s aggressive and blunt personality conflicted with his friends. But who else would have joked off his fears with the boar? Who else would be there beside him, letting him know that a bunch of stuck up ponies were no big deal?

She wouldn’t be here. It was a simple conclusion that held so much power. Just thinking about it tore a void in his stomach. Forgiving her was what he had wanted. Did it make him a better person than Rainbow Dash, who had waited too long? Or Twilight, who was still feuding with his mother? No, it was just who he was. He forgave his mother. Twilight hadn’t. He understood that now.

“Twilight, I’m lucky to have you watching my back, but I’m also lucky to have my mother.” Twilight shifted uncomfortably, shaking her head. “I believe she’s done all she can, and if that means I need to put up with a few vegetables and disgruntled councilponies, so be it.”

“She’s the princess Spike,” she said softly. “She can raise the sun, she taught me almost everything I know... but she can’t protect you from her own country?” She sighed. “I won’t believe it.”

“And that’s fine.” He bent down on one knee, allowing her to nuzzle his chest. He gave her all the time she needed, waiting until she gently backed away. Her breaths were slower, more calm now as she smiled at him. “Can you at least go talk to her for me?” He asked as he rose back to his feet.

Twilight looked back to the balcony then nodded to him. “Why don’t you go check up on the girls downstairs? I’ll... try and talk to her.”

“Thank you. See you back downstairs,” he called as he exited for the ballroom. The door clicked shut behind him. There. He had done all he could. Now it was up to Twilight. He carefully began making his way down the small pony-steps, greeting Applejack and Rarity as he descended.

--

The palace garden that stretched before her was impressive to say the least. Of course, since summer had just begun, the greenery, roses, and bushes were in full bloom and at pique condition. She imagined that for the royalty and nobles, who had never so much as set a foot in a forest or journeyed through the wild, this was an amazing sight. Not for her. Not that she cared. Sightseeing was the last thing on her mind right now.

He didn’t trust her.

No, he trusted her. He was just... afraid. Afraid she’d leave again.

Wasn’t it something amazing, to be feared? She thought so. To have ponies, griffons, dragons, whatever, panic in your presence. It meant you were strong. It meant you had power over someone.

She used to think so. Now she hated it. She loathed herself for it. Seeing Spike afraid because he thought she was running away... even worse, all of this could have been avoided if she weren’t so stupid.

Oh, you can go back to Ponyville? I dunno, I kind of left there in a bit of heat last time. Ah yeah you’re right, they’ll get over it, and I’m totally sure Dash tried to contact me afterwards anyways making a reunion pretty sweet.

Bam. No scars, no fear, just two friends crashing Equestria. But that wasn’t the case. She had been petty, nearly costing Spike his life and punching holes in their friendship.

And yet he had forgiven her. That’s what drove her crazy. After all the hell she had put him through, he had the ability to say ‘Don’t sweat it Gilda, let’s just get back to Ponyville’. ‘These scars? Pfft. New decorations!’. All said with that sarcastic little quip of his.

She suddenly realized she had been standing rigid ever since landing on the roof. She sunk down onto her claws, instinctively kneading the stone despite its hard shell.

Forgiveness. He had done the same thing for the princess as well. She had banished him for three months and was now making him wear that damn collar, yet he forgave her too. Maybe he was naive. Maybe it was just a flaw of his.

But Spike wasn’t naive. He could be ridiculous some times, sure, but naive? Not really. He knew what was happening and what he had to do.

So what did that make him? She looked up, taken aback by the brightness of the stars in spite of the glaring Canterlot lights. She snorted. Must be some Goddess magic. Still, she found herself rolling onto her back, bringing her claws to the back of her head as a makeshift pillow. There they were, just like she had shown Spike before. What was it, a month ago? Not even that? It felt like she had known him for so much longer...

Spike. That’s what it made him. His ability to forgive, to brush everything aside to bring out the greater good in everyone. That’s what made Spike, well, Spike. It was a rather crazier thought than she was used to, but she liked it. It just felt right, like the feeling you get after solving a difficult puzzle.

She returned her attention to the stars. Goddess magic... weren’t there two now? Where was Celestia’s sister?

Her beak formed into a wry smile.

Goddess of the night. Probably off in some crazy party or getting fu—

“Hey! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Gilda rolled back onto her belly, scrambling to her feet. Before she could begin to look around, a dull thud sounded from behind her. She spun around. Dash. She made to protest, but Spike’s words rang in her ears. Maybe it’s not me she’s afraid of, but you.

Afraid. Fear. She was tired of it, especially amongst her friends.

She held out her claw towards her friend. “Heh, my bad. I wanted to hang out in the gardens down there, but some weird old pony was whistling and rummaging around. Decided for the roof instead. Sup?”

Dash was frozen, glancing between her and her claw.

Did she say something wrong? “You ok Dash?”

“Yeah!” She bumped her hoof with her claw, a wide smile springing up on her face. “Spike and I just wanted to check up on how you were doing. Never know when you’ll get mobbed by a bunch of prissy nobles huh?”

Gilda returned to the roof’s edge overlooking the palace gardens. “Hmph. Honestly, I’m not sure who’s in more danger, me or Spike.”

“Dang. What can I do to get onto the list? You two are stealing all the fun!”

Gilda brought a claw up to her beak. “You know, there is a Mr. Watergate you could get rid of...”

“Gilda!”

“Hey I’m just kidding! Well, kind of.”

They both laughed. Dang it had been a long time since she heard this. Too long.

Dash joined her side as the laughter died out. “So you never did tell me about you and Spike.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything!”

She groaned, creating another small chuckle from Dash. “I guess you did save our lives and all. Alright. Get comfortable, ‘cus this one’s long.” Ugh. Where to begin? Might as well start from the roots. “So for some insane reason I decided to join the Empire army...”

Even with her rushing the story still dragged on to a considerable length. She focused upon the events she thought Dash would find ‘cool’, explaining each battle in vivid dramatic detail while skipping around delicate topics like Spike’s confession and her leaving. She made sure to also not bring up a single word of stargazing.

“Then... oh man, I dunno if I want to tell you this one.”

“Aw come on!” You can’t just say that and then  not tell me!” Dash cried, throwing her hooves in the air.

“Alright alright! Just promise this never leaves me, you, or Spike, got it?”

“Pinkie Pr—” She stopped the strange movements she had been making and folded her hooves behind her back with a sheepish grin. “Promise.”

Gilda eyed her suspiciously. Don’t know what the hell that was, but if it involves ‘Pinkie’, Dash had the right idea. “Right, so get this. Spike and I are staking out in this cave for the night. After we get a good night’s rest, guess what we wake up to? Like, twenty soldiers outside ready to do a clean sweep of the area!”

Dash gaped. “How the heck did you get out of there?”

“See, this is where things get kinda embarrassing,” she said, scratching the back of her neck. “So my thinking was, if they don’t see Spike, they’ll just assume I’m a wild griffon right? But then they might still check my cave anyways. I had to make sure they didn’t go further in so I...” Sudden paranoia overtook her. She leaned forward and whispered into Dash’s ear. “I preened.”

Dash retreated, shaking her head in confusion. “You... oooooooooooooooh. Oh... OH!”

Gilda nodded in embarrassment. For Andune’s sake if Dash ever spoke of this to anyone else, she’d snap her in two.

“How long did you have to preen? Must have set a new record there!” She asked.

“Well I had Spike to help me out—”

“WHAT??”

Shit. “Look, it was either that or get caught, got it?”

“I know! You did what you had to.” Dash folded her hooves, looking resigned only for her eyes to open again, a slight glimmer behind them. “Still... you preened with him.”

“Dash!”

“Alright! Just forget it.”

Awkward silence. Not that she minded. Definitely better than Dash going off assuming things.

The sound of a door closing echoed across the palace gardens. She looked over to Dash, sharing a confused shrug as they both began searching around. There, right below them. A balcony extended out from the palace, and walking out onto it, the princess herself. Gilda tapped Dash on the shoulder, bringing a single claw up to her beak while pointing down. Her friend looked over the side then quickly retreated, giving her a nod.

Even from above her regal beauty was mesmerizing. Still, her posture seemed less regal than before. Slumped. No surprise there, especially after forcing your son to wear some stupid dog collar to even live a normal life.

“What do griffons think of the princess?” Dash whispered.

“Depends. Back when I was younger, some books would call her ‘beautiful’, ‘majestic’, and other stuff like that.  Nowadays? Most of those books are gone, and kids are told she’s ‘the wicked witch of the east’.” Her thoughts flashed back to when she had just entered into the Empire’s army, staff instructors cramming hateful images of a sun goddess roasting griffons alive. “To recruits, they let us know her as ‘pompous’ and ‘arrogant’.”

Dash shuffled uneasily next to her. “Do you believe that?”

“Just the ‘witch’ part.”

They both hid their snickers beneath claw and hoof. As Gilda finished her muffled laugh, she took a deep breath from the cool night air. This wasn’t so bad. Funny, how just a few days ago she was afraid to death of begging her old friend for forgiveness. Still, the way she just tossed her out. Ridiculous. What was stopping her from doing it again? Besides, she had Spike now. Sure, he couldn’t outright race or do anything crazy, but she had gotten over that long ago. She smiled, thinking back to the canyon. They could make their own fun anyways.

But here she was, enjoying herself with Dash without any crazy tricks or races. And Spike. He had given her a second chance even after her abandonment. She looked over to her friend who was finishing her own chuckle. Memories of Flight Camp, of their pranks, their feats, came cascading back to her. It didn’t matter if she needed one friend or one hundred. There was only one Dash, and she enjoyed hanging out with her.

Forgiveness. Only a month with Spike and he had already taught her how powerful it could truly be. Maybe it was time to put that lesson to use.

“Hey Dash?”

“Yeah?”

Gilda paused, clenching her claws. No backing down now. “I just wanted to say that, I mean, You know... it’s fine that you told me off at that party. I forgive you.” The words came out stuttered and strained. Her friend’s eyes widened in amazement. “Heh. Kinda deserved it anyways. It was my bad for yelling at all your friends. Not to mention you tried to write me letters anyways.”

Dash nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry for just kicking you out like that. I should have stopped you outside and talked to you. Plus, like I said before, setting up all those pranks after you were already upset with Pinkie was the most stupid idea ever.” She shook her head, smiling. “And you know me. I’ve had a lot of stupid ideas.”

“Seems all of this could have been avoided if they would just throw ‘Pinkie Pie’ into a mental asylum.” Gilda growled.

Dash sighed. “Gilda, I understand Pinkie—”

The door opened again, cutting her friend off.

“It’s good to see Spike well, now that he has returned home to his friends.”

Celestia. Was she talking to herself? One thousand years would drive one crazy. Gilda motioned for Dash, sneaking a look over the edge of the roof to the balcony below. While the princess still remained, Spike’s friend Twilight had joined her. Oddly enough, neither seemed eager to make eye contact with the other.

Twilight snorted. “Well? I saw his condition when he arrived. He was almost dead!”

“Which is of course why I brought in our greatest doctors and sought to healing him personally. As you saw, he has made a swift recovery,” Celestia said.

“And now he’s covered in scars.”

“They’ll fade in time...”

“But the experience of being beat to near death won’t.”

Celestia bowed her head, allowing the silence of the night to creep in. Gilda glanced over to Dash, but all of her attention was transfixed on the scene below. Meh. Might as well enjoy the drama while it lasts.

“This has been troubling you since the day he left, no?” the princess asked.

“Of course,” Twilight said. Still no eye contact. The awkwardness was so thick Gilda could probably swim through the air surrounding the two below.

“Twilight, you haven’t spoken to me since then. I’m no mind reader. You need to tell me what your thoughts truly are, without curtains or subtlety.”

“He was your son and you exiled him,” Twilight said quickly, as if relieving a weight from her shoulders. “You should have stopped them. He’s never hurt anyone... he didn’t deserve any of this.”

“I tried everything I could Twilight.” Whoa. Frustration. That one was new. “I’m not all powerful. I cannot control everything with a mere whim.”

“And why not!?” Twilight’s voice picked up as she finally faced towards the princess. “You’re the princess! You are the law! You are Equestria!”

“Exactly! I am law. I am a model. Which means, more than anypony else, my actions set precedent! Imagine what message would be sent out to all of Equestria, to all of the world if I were to combat the council? Especially in a time such as this, where we are at severe odds with the Empire! We need fluidity, and as much as I love Spike, snubbing the council and making an enemy of them was a dangerous option! I brought him back home as soon as I could. If I had known he would be attacked by griffons,  I would have left and brought him back myself.”

“What about this collar? You’re forcing him to change who he is so he can stay home.”

“The band is only temporary until this rising conflict between nations has been quelled. Afterwards, I can focus solely on Spike and confront the questions and fears that come along with him.”

“And how long will that be?”

Celestia hesitated. “I... cannot lie. I do not know. Months? Years? Such things can be dampened or ignited with small, simple actions.”

“From what I’ve heard while in the palace things are only getting worse.”

“You would be hearing correctly,” Celestia said softly.

Twilight’s whole body drooped. “So it could be years... I’m sorry. You said you’ve done everything you could but... I just can’t believe that.” She turned around, trotting back to the paned door.

“You will let me know how Spike is doing won’t you? And you too?” Celestia called out with a hint of desperation and lone sadness. “I’ve missed your letters...”

Twilight paused. Silence... silence...

“I will.”

Even Gilda found herself letting out a breath of relief. Twilight left her field of vision, disappearing through the glass door below. Celestia returned to her silent vigil, gazing out at the vast palace gardens below.

Well that was enough drama to last a life time. Gilda retreated from the roof’s edge, her friend following closely behind.

“They’re teacher and student?” Gilda asked in a low whisper.

Dash shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. A few months back and Twilight would be head over hooves about how amazing the princess was. Now, ever since that night...”

“So we just witnessed the equivalent of a messy breakup! Sweet!”

Her friend laughed, punching her lightly on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s my friend your talking about! Not to mention the princess!” She paused suddenly. “Then again, you are kinda right, that was... GAH! Forget it!” Gilda only laughed harder, causing her friend to glare at her. “Look, everyone’s probably gonna start heading to bed real soon. We should get back inside.”

“Sounds like a plan. Don’t want to stick around and watch the princess cry anyways. Let’s bail.”

They positioned themselves on the opposite side of the roof before taking off and looping back towards the entrance to the ballroom below. The still air of a summer night gave them no struggle as they descended, landing with impressive silence upon the lush green grass below. Dash led the way, holding the door open for Gilda. She nodded to her friend and passed through.

Spike was at the center of the ballroom, chatting with two of his friends. The white one, Rarity, was it? She was pretty cool. Kept that pink monstrosity in check and had some class without being a complete ass. Gilda could respect that.

Then there was Ms. Bucktooth. The paladin-everyone-needs-to-get-along girl. Too bad really, she’s the type of pony Gilda wouldn’t mind hanging out with and Dash seemed to get along with her really well. The faster ‘Applejack’ got it through her head that she wasn’t going to put up with unrestrained insanity, the faster they could start getting back onto right foot. Or hoof. Whatever.

“Hey Gilda! How was the garden?” Spike waved her over.

She walked over to him, shrugging. “Eh. Just a bunch of dumb roses. Nothing as cool as what you showed me out in the Wilds, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe we could request them to bring in some of those turnabout berries huh?”

“You’re the one with the princess for a mother. You talk to her!” Gilda jeered. Wait. She was missing something. Oh yeah! “Plus, probably not too good of an idea. Those stupid animals would poison themselves as soon as the berries turned bad.”

“Eh, they’d learn eventually,” Spike joked.

They shared a laugh as she stopped at his side.

“My! I wouldn’t believe it had you told me just a day ago, but you two truly are close!” the white pony gushed. “Spike, Gilda, you must tell me the story of how you became friends some time. Perhaps over tea or maybe lunch?”

“Eh...” Tea? Lunch? Probably at some fancy restaurant knowing her. Gilda shared an uncertain glance with Spike.

The dragon scratched at the back of his neck. “Errr how about Gilda accompany us while we hunt for gems? That way we can both tell you.”

“A genius idea Spike! Oh I simply cannot wait to get back to Ponyville and get all caught up with my little Spike Wikey again.”

Spike Wikey? What the hell? She looked up at her friend, but he was already turned away, trying his best to avoid eye contact with her. Ah. Embarrassment. Chalk up another phrase she can use against him.

“Rarity, I thought I said...” Spike paused, his eyes drifting over to the stairs. Gilda followed his gaze, witnessing Spike’s purple friend descending towards them. Twilight, that was her name. Gotta start memorizing them all. “Twilight? Where’s mom?”

Twilight paused at the bottom of the steps. “She’s... thinking.”

Well, that was one way to say it.

“Ah! Master and mistresses!” A gruff voice called from the exit to the grand hall. The butler that had hugged Spike and brought in the band during dinner was hobbling towards them. Perfect timing old dude. She wasn’t sure if she could take any more drama after the whole student-teacher breakup. “All of your rooms have been prepared and are fully set for your overnight stay. Once you are done conversing, I shall lead you to them.”

The white pon- Rarity let out an exaggerated yawn, covering her mouth with her hoof. “I don’t know about you dears, but I am exhausted.”

“Reckon ah’m plumped as well after all this runnin’ around,” Bucktooth agreed.

“Gilda?” Spike asked.

“Me? The past three nights have been sleeping on cold stone. I’m freaking tired and a soft bed sounds amazing,” she said.

“Couldn’t agree more! Then again, I didn’t have to wake up in a cell...” The dragon shuddered. “Sovereign, before we go, you wouldn’t have happened to see Pinkie Pie running around would you?”

Sovereign nodded. “I have, in fact. Mistress Pinkie Pie demanded a plentiful amount of paper, glue, glitter, and all other sorts of decorations before retiring to her room for the night. I have not seen her since and presume she is still within.”

Spike shook his head, covering his face with a claw. “I guess she was serious about those invitations. Anyways, can you lead us to our rooms?”

“With pleasure, master Spike.” The butler bowed, turning back towards the exit to the grand hall. “If you would follow me, please.”

The yellow pony, Rarity, and Bucktooth fell in behind Sovereign as he departed for the grand hall. Dash, Spike, and Twilight lingered behind with her, bringing up the rear. Once again, Gilda found herself stunned by the grand hall. Unlike the light filled corridor it had been mere hours before, a soft glow of silver illuminated the pillars and walls, giving the hall the characteristics of a noble, primeval cave. She had no idea what kind of magic this was, nor did she have any love for it, but damn if it wasn’t impressive. Probably from the night sister. Where was she anyways?

Also unlike before, the hall was nearly devoid of any nobles. The golden-clad celestial guards of before had been replaced by bat-winged lunar guards, their dark blue armor fitting their environment especially well. The only constant was that of the palace servants who still passed from room to room, regarding her and her friends with a sense of awe and fear. Other than the light clopping of hooves against tile, the hall was near silent, with no one around to carry the conversations—

They had only just passed the middle of the hall when a male griffon stepped from the massive double doors of the throne room. Two lunar guards stood astride him, hovering slightly behind to allow him space. Gilda froze. He spotted her. They locked eyes. This must be the ambassador. Why did she freeze up? He had no idea who she was. Did he?

The ambassador scoffed and faced forward before continuing down the length of the hall, eventually disappearing behind one of the massive pillars.

“Gilda, you alright?” Spike called out to her in concern. The entire procession had stopped and looked back at her with a mixture of worry and suspicion.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah! Just uh... had a moment there I guess. My bad.” She stole one last glance down the hall before rejoining her friend. Sovereign continued across the way, opening the door to the guest rooms she had gone to first reunite with Spike in earlier. They all passed through, Gilda giving the butler a nod before a simple thought struck her. “Wait. I mean, sorry if this is touchy for you du- Sovereign, but aren’t you blind? How did you know where the door was?”

The old butler chuckled as he closed the door behind him with ease. “Mistress Gilda, I have traveled this palace since I was but a young foal. Believe in me when I say that I could traverse it ten years ago with my eyes closed, and I can do it ten years later blind.”

Gilda frowned. Mistress? Blech. Still, this Sovereign guy was pretty cool. Best just to let it slide.

He led them on until they reached the same hall she had confronted Celestia’s guards in. Sovereign turned to them, bowing. “All rooms within this hall are ready for use. I only ask that you do not disturb the room on the left at the end of the hall for Mistress Pie has requested complete and total privacy for the rest of the night. If any of you have any questions, concerns, or requests, please do not be afraid to come talk to me in the lounge we just passed through. I shall be there for the remainder of the night. If I happened to have dozed off, a good shake will get me back on my feet. Thank you all, and good night.” He bowed once more before retreating back through door.

“Well ta-ta everyone. I hope to see you all well in the morning.” Rarity trotted down the hall, taking the last door on the right. Fluttershy followed soon after, disappearing into the room just before hers without saying a word.

Bucktooth yawned, taking the room closest to her. “Would rather wrassle livestock all day than have to deal with that lot of jackals again. Sleep tight everyone.”

“Mission accomplished,” Dash said proudly, stretching her legs as she made her way to her own room. “Awesome to see both of you back Spike and Gilda. Can’t wait to get back to Ponyville! Then the real party starts!”

“Spike, are you sure you’ll be alright?” Twilight asked with worry, looking up at the dragon.

Spike’s tail and wings sagged as he sighed, lowering himself and hugging her. “Twilight, stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”

They held their embrace before Twilight broke away. “Good night then. See you tomorrow.” The mare trotted down the hall, giving both of them one last look before entering her room.

That left the two of them. Unlike the rest of the entire night, the silence that hovered between them was anything but awkward. As she looked up at him, he looked back, and thousands of words were spoken without either a snout or beak opening. They had made it. Crazed sergeants, patrols, cave ins, fights, all had been conquered to reach this point. Only a month spent together and already there was so much here. Respect. Friendship. Learning. Well, she learned from him. Hunting, forgiveness... She wondered if he ever learned anything from her.

“So I guess this is it huh?” he asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gilda shot back in a joking manner.

“I don’t really know myself! All of that craziness from soldiers to nobles and now... we’re here.”

“Heh, don’t get too comfortable. The fun is only just starting and you’ve still got Watergate hot on your tail.”

He chuckled. “Right. See you tomorrow then?”

She laughed with him. “Tomorrow, and make sure you don’t hurt yourself tonight because I’m not there to watch out for you.”

“I’ll try. Good night Gilda.”

“Goodnight.”

He walked away, passing through the door at the very end of the hall, the pony-made door forcing him to scrunch up his wings to slide through.

And now here she was alone. Best to get some rest. She took the untouched door behind her, walking through to find a well-sized bedroom. At its center, an impressive bed took up most of the space, two cupboards on either side providing room for items she did not have.

A knock from her door. Spike? She turned around, readying her free claw and crouching in case of an attack. Throwing open the door, she found Sovereign before her, holding a brown sack in his mouth.

“Uh, yeah?” Gilda asked cautiously.

“Forgiff myth intruthion, mistreth, but I wath informed thath the guardth never returned you your belongingth.” He gently lowered the sack to the ground, prodding it forward with a hoof. “Thus, I have returned them to you myself.”

She opened the bag, sifting through. Sure enough, everything was there, even the gem Spike had given to her weeks before. “Thanks! Thought this had been lost out on the plains or something!”

The butler bowed. “I shall leave you be now. Good night.” He trotted back down the hall, returning to the lounge.

Wait. How had he known what room she had taken? Maybe it was a wild guess? Huh. Better to not even think too much about it. That butler worked in mysterious ways. She placed her bag upon one of the cupboards then resumed her inspection. Let’s see... bed, cupboards, there’s a mirror over there and... a shower. Dear Andune there was a shower. Really, she had no idea why she was so excited as she watched the hot water pour down. Back in Dagger Fels and Lionsberg, she rarely ever showered despite it always being a constant opportunity.

“Just can’t find the motivation when you’re all alone you know?”

Spike’s words echoed in her head. She knew.

She must have spent a few minutes using the provided soap and another half hour simply allowing the warm water to cascade over her body. Feathers, fur, claws, and wings were all washed clean of days’ worth of sweat, dirt, and blood. Whether it was through instinct or exhaustion, she finally turned off the stream, stumbling out and drying herself off. Satisfied, she threw herself into the inviting sheets. She was tired. So tired. Was the struggle over? Hell no. But they were wrong. Even the wicked got a bit of rest.

*   *   *

“If being cool is all you care about, maybe you should go find some cool friends someplace else.”

“Let me guess. Going to stay for a nice visit of a week or two before heading back? Get some good knowledge of the daily lives of our beautiful elements here and then—”

“Gilda! Wait!”

Gilda awoke with a start, gasping for air. Nightmares. Now? After all of the crap she had been through, now was when she was having nightmares?

She crawled out of bed, her head pounding with each beat of her heart. It wasn’t morning yet. She knew that. She could feel it. Aside from the small amount of light leaking under the gap of the door, her room was pitch black. She sat down, leaning against her bed.

This was all wrong. Something was wrong. Something was missing. Here, right now, felt just like her life back in Dagger Fels, in that dirty apartment. Alone. Her eyes began to deceive her. The window began to crack, dust began to accumulate on the cupboards, her sheets began to run yellow and stained.

She panicked, throwing open the door and leaping out into the hallway. Did the door just creak? Or was that her imagination again? Her eyes were still closed. If she opened them,  would she see the regal hallways of the palace, or the tattered walls of her old apartment? Maybe this had all been some crazy dream?

She opened her eyes. Dark red carpet, clean wooden walls. Thank Andune. Thank Celestia. Thank whoever the hell would listen. What now? Should she laugh? Cry? She felt so... exposed. Was she afraid of a bunch of stuck up nobles?

Something tickled the edge of her ears. A muffled, droning sound stemming from the lounge room. Curious and not wanting to return to sleep, Gilda made her way down the hallway, pausing at the door at the end. Was that... Spike talking? Yes. Definitely. She carefully, slowly, silently, cracked open the door, peering through with a single eye.

There, sitting upright and waving his claws in the air, was Spike. Sovereign sat across from him, nodding while listening intently.

“... So we finally reach the mountains and begin flying through the valleys to pass to the other side. When nightfall comes and we land for a drink of water, we get spotted by a patrol of like, twenty griffons off in the distance! So Gilda and I hold our ground and stare them down...”

She closed the door, unable to wipe the stupid grin off her beak. Spike had said he’d tell his story to his friend, and he had held his promise. She made her way back to her room, climbing back into bed. She felt secure now. Safe. What did that even mean? She wasn’t going to be attacked by anything here, much less than when she was out in the wilds being pursued by patrols.

Didn’t matter. Whatever that moment was or had meant, it had passed. She was safe now. Secure.

She was still smiling as she drifted off to sleep.