• Published 12th Nov 2016
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Grief is the Price We Pay - Scyphi



Spike thought he could get them to trust and befriend Thorax. But they didn't.

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Foreboding

The day wore on, and it wasn’t long before nightfall drew near. According to Thorax, they had covered a lot of ground thus far, and now the Vergilius was cruising over the more sparse looking lands of the southern outskirts of Equestria, with plant growth not being entirely absent but certainly much thinner in number. It was expected that they would arrive at the Badlands as planned tomorrow morning, which made the daunting tasks still ahead of them loom ever nearer. Though there had been some batting about of new ideas for their plan to rescue the captured ponies within the changeling hive, none of them had really stuck for one reason or another, and as such there had been little enhancements to their standing plan. It was becoming likely that they would just have to commit to that plan largely as-is and hope for the best, barring any on the spot improvisations that changes in circumstance may yet require.

But in the meantime, they continued going about their respective businesses aboard the small air yacht, though even that was starting to wind down as the evening started to fall upon them. Especially since they would all be taking turns piloting the Vergilius on through the night, Starlight urged them to try and get as much sleep as they could after their makeshift dinner, with the hope that they would all be adequately rested by the time they arrived at the hive tomorrow. They also had determined who would be taking what turns piloting during the night, determining that Thorax would have the first shift, helped by the fact that he was already piloting the craft now.

But at the moment Spike’s attention wasn’t on his changeling friend, but on that of Ember as he strolled out onto the main deck to speak with her, finding her standing near the prow of the vessel and gazing out at the sunset. “Hey Ember,” he greeted politely as he approached. He was admittedly feeling in a bit better mood now than what he had started out today with, though to be sure still not without the usual underlying troubles. But for the moment, they weren’t overpowering and could be set aside for a second. “Keeping busy?”

“Mm,” Ember grunted back, her only response. Her gaze did not stray any from the sunset she was watching.

Spike took it as an affirmative and pressed on. “Well, so you are aware, Starlight’s been working at putting together a meal for all of us below deck and it’ll be ready soon. Figured you’d probably want some.”

“Depends,” Ember responded. “What is she making?”

“Well, considering our food supplies, nothing too complex,” Spike admitted with a shrug. “Basically, she’s popped open a few cans of baked beans we had on board and heated that up, as well adding a few other miscellaneous things we had on hoof to try and add some additional flavor. I’d call it chili…except it’s not really, so…I guess it’s still baked beans then, just…enhanced in flavor a bit.”

Ember made a face, sticking out her tongue in disgust and not finding the described meal appealing.

“Now don’t give me that,” Spike retorted. “You wait, baked beans really aren’t that bad. It’s not my all-time favorite pony dish personally, but it’s definitely still high on the list. I think you’ll like it too.”

“If you say so,” Ember replied noncommittedly. She didn’t seem especially convinced.

She also didn’t move from her present position, so Spike followed her gaze. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” he asked, when he didn’t see anything of note in the dragoness’s line of vision beyond the unremarkable terrain except Obsidian, the adult dragon visible while following along with the airship at a distance still, as he had been told to.

“Puzzling about something,” she remarked, her gaze still not wandering, but she did look like she was perplexed about something.

Spike was quiet for a second, squinting his eyes as he attempted to figure for himself what it might be. He only ended up giving himself mild eyestrain from staring too hard at the setting sun visible on the horizon. “Like what?” he asked finally, at a loss.

That,” Ember replied in mild frustration, motioning with her claws at the horizon.

Spike looked out at it and again only saw one thing worth noting. “The sunset?” he asked, confused.

Yes,” Ember persisted, like it was obvious. “Correct me if I’m wrong…but your Princess Celestia is the one who raises and lowers the sun, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Then, if she’s really been captured by changelings like Starlight says…then how is that happening?” She again motioned to the setting sun.

Spike looked from her to the setting sun and back again a couple of times. “Oh, that,” he remarked and rubbed the spines running down his back. “I suppose that is a good question…”

“Exactly!” Ember declared. “How can the sun set if the almighty Celestia isn’t there to do it?”

“Well, just because Celestia’s the only one who does it now doesn’t mean she’s the only one who can,” Spike explained, turning to face Ember fully. “I guess you wouldn’t know this, but Celestia wasn’t always around to move the sun, nor was Luna. Back then, Star Swirl the Bearded and a few other unicorns working together used their combined magic to move the sun and moon.”

“So?” Ember said, now her turn to not quite follow.

“So, that means the changelings could probably do the same thing,” Spike reasoned. “They all have magical powers roughly equivalent to that of unicorns, even though their magic isn’t quite the same as that of a unicorn’s, or so Thorax has told me. One alone probably couldn’t do it, but a group of them working together probably could.” He shrugged. “Most likely that’s what they’re doing, at least. I can’t think of a better way to explain it right now. Either way, they’d have to have figured out a way to do it just to maintain appearances, or they wouldn’t have been able to get this far with their little secret takeover.”

Ember thought about this for a few moments. “That would mean there were more changelings involved than just the two who are no doubt replacing Celestia and Luna presently,” she observed.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t surprise me, really,” Spike admitted. “One doesn’t just overpower the royal sisters. The only way the changelings could’ve done it without getting their butts handed back to them is through well outnumbering the princesses, subduing them that way.”

Ember nodded to herself, agreeing with this assessment. “I suppose it would also be useful to have extra changelings on hand in the event of emergencies, or for the purpose of replacing other ponies and thus tightening their control on Equestria, or at least Canterlot, further still.” She frowned. “And if they have other higher-ups replaced as well, it would be less likely that somepony would discover the scheme taking place, because the higher-ups can just manipulate the nosy into looking away.”

Spike sighed, depressed at the thought. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he decided. “Right now…let’s just get through successfully rescuing the princesses first.”

They stood at the prow watching the sun continue slipping behind the horizon in silence for a few minutes.

“So…” Ember began again, “…you were helping Starlight prepare a meal?”

Spike shrugged indifferently. “A little,” he admitted. “Why?”

“I just thought you didn’t want anything to do with her.”

Spike snorted at that. “You were the one who said I needed to forgive her.”

“Ohhhh no I didn’t, I never actually said you had to forgive her,” Ember corrected quickly. “Actually, I can totally understand why you wouldn’t, given circumstances. Even I haven’t forgotten the fact that she messed up in all of this just like a lot of other ponies you hang with.”

“Then why did you want me to talk with her?”

“Because whenever the subject of Starlight came up, you looked like a slingtail with a rock shoved up its butt. It was clearly bugging you, so you needed to do something to try and get it to stop bugging you so much. I figured, then, that talking it out would probably help, if only to let you two vent. At the very least, that seemed to have worked for you in the past. So…have you talked to her about it?”

Spike averted his gaze. “Yes.”

“And? Did it help?”

Spike hesitated then sighed. “…Yes.”

“Ha! Point for the dragon lord!” Ember pumped her fist in victory. Then, as she thought about it a little longer, turned back to Spike. “Wait…since you brought it up…are you saying you have forgiven Starlight since that talk?”

Again, Spike snorted. “I wouldn’t say I’ve forgiven her exactly,” he admitted. “There’s still plenty for me to take issue about her views on things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, she kept claiming that she’s been trying to make amends with me from the start when she clearly hadn’t really up until we started the conversation, she was very slow to even try to apologize for anything, she claimed she wouldn’t try to defend or justify the actions of Twilight and the others only to then turn around and do precisely that, and I don’t think she actually gets just how much misery she and the others have actually put me through.” Spike fumed for a moment, but no longer, as soon his fury quickly cooled again and he turned dejected. “But…she did show that she at least gets it more than I first gave her credit for…plus she’s at least seriously trying to make amends now, and…” he hesitated briefly, “…and she is right about one thing. Regardless of whether or not she had actually been trying to smooth things over with me before then…I probably wouldn’t have wanted to let her actually do it. At least up until she pointed it out. It made me realize that, maybe, I did owe her at least a chance to say her piece, hear her out, and actually allow her to at least try once…and she surprised me, I guess.”

“So…” Ember prompted, “…it went well, then?”

Spike didn’t smile, but his expression still lightened some, taking on a slightly cheerier look. “She’s at least managed to take some of the edge off,” he relented. He then shrugged and nodded his head at the land ahead of the flying airship. “Besides…where we’re heading, we’re all going to have to set aside a few grievances and work like a team, or else. And frankly…I’d rather we avoid the ‘or elses.’”

“Me too,” Ember agreed.

They fell silent again for a moment, continuing to watch the sunset while the airship flew ever onward.

“Do you think this plan is actually going to work?” Ember asked suddenly.

Spike frowned and averted his gaze, scowling a little. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I have a few…misgivings.”

Ember nodded her head solemnly. “Then you are not alone.”

Spike glanced at her, peering at her through his false eyeglasses. “You have doubts we can pull this off too, huh?”

Ember took a deep breath. “It’s more than that,” she admitted. “I…don’t quite know how, or if I’m just imagining it, but…” she shifted her gaze in the direction the Vergilius was sailing. “…I can’t help but fear something terrible is going to befall us if we try this…that this is not a good idea at all.”

Spike titled his head at her, questioning. “Then…why are you coming along?” he asked curtly. “No one’s making you. Hay, you have a good reason to not to, considering you’re the dragon lord and everything.”

“But I have no more of an alternative plan to enact besides this one than you do,” Ember replied. She sounded almost distant, lost in her thoughts. “At least, none that don’t immediately start a war…and while I would of course fight in such a war as bravely and valiantly as any other dragon, totally without fear…I find myself increasingly forced to agree that war, at least on this occasion, will not be the answer. It’d only get everybody hurt that didn’t need to be.” She turned her head to look at Spike. “Besides, I cannot in good conscience allow Queen Chrysalis to continue with her takeover of Equestria. If I did, the changelings would only turn their attention to the Dragon Realms in the end and seek to conquer the dragons too. And as the additional power of Equestria would be at her full disposal by that point, I know the dragons would not be able to resist them in the end. Obviously, I can’t allow that to happen.”

Spike harrumphed to himself and turned his gaze away from Ember. He seemed discontent by that answer…and it wasn’t hard to guess why.

“Spike, why are you coming along?” Ember challenged. “It’s obvious to everyone that you’d really rather not.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Spike replied automatically.

It wasn’t answer enough for Ember. “That didn’t stop you when Starlight first came aboard and pleaded for our help. So what changed?”

Spike’s frown grew, but he answered honestly. “…Thorax raised some good points that I couldn’t deny,” he admitted reluctantly.

Ember harrumphed to herself. “Of course he did,” she said. “You sure seem to like letting him tell you what to do.”

“Who, Thorax?” Spike blinked in surprise. “Thorax isn’t an idiot, Ember, he knows what he’s talking about. And…often times he’s right. He is this time, at least.” He looked up at Ember again. “And after hearing you and the others talk about your own motivations…it only reminds me more that…it’d be foolish and idiotic of me to not help pull this off somehow.”

“And yet…” Ember prompted, sensing there was an unspoken continuation to this.

“And yet…” Spike continued with a sigh, and he shook his head. “…I’ll be honest with you, Ember. I’m not doing this for Equestria.” He gazed forlornly out at the darkening landscape the airship was flying over. “It’s scorned me one time too many lately.” His glare slowly started to morph into a hurt look. “I’m only doing this at all…because despite everything, I still have a conscience…and the knowledge that ridding myself of that conscience would…only bring more harm to an existence that’s already been harmed enough. It doesn’t need me adding to it.” He let out his breath in a dissatisfied exhale. “But I hear what you’re saying too…I’ve got a nagging feeling that us going to the changeling hive is only going to throw us out of the frying pan and into the fire, as it were. And I do deeply fear who might get hurt in the process that never deserved to be.”

Ember was quiet for a long moment, watching the sun turn into a mere sliver of light as the sunset finished. “You know, it’s not usually in our nature to want to put the needs of others before your own,” she softly remarked finally. “But every now and then, that trait pops up even among rough and tumble dragons like us. And they often turn out to be the bravest and most heroic.” She placed her claws on Spike’s shoulder in a reassuring motion. “I know deep down this isn’t what you’d like to do. But I think you’ve made the right decision in coming along regardless. And whatever troubles that await us at that hive…at least know that we’ll all be facing them together.”

Spike didn’t react at first, but unable to not take some comfort in the dragoness’s words, he slowly started to grin.

“Soup’s on!” Trixie suddenly called out from the door of the control cabin. “Well, it’s not really soup but…look, the food’s ready! Come get it while it’s hot and…you know…there.”

Spike smirked a little and bumped Ember on the arm with his fist. “C’mon,” he said, urging his fellow dragon to follow. “I’ll go introduce you to your first bowl of baked beans. You just might be surprised.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Ember promised firmly, but she was smirking too as she followed after the littler dragon.


As dinner wound down and the night began fully, Thorax obligingly kept his position at the ship’s helm, taking the first shift of piloting the craft as agreed and was content to remain there, likely alone while the rest went to bed, until he was relieved from his shift by the next pony in line, who was consequently Trixie. However, Thorax hadn’t been manning the helm long when Trixie came up to join him.

“Hey, there’s still some baked beans leftover if you want them,” she offered the changeling a little timidly as she reached the top of the steps that led down below deck. “At least there are for the moment. With the way Spike and especially Ember have been going at them, they’re probably not going to last much longer…”

Thorax chuckled. “Spike’s always had a bit of a soft spot for baked beans,” he admitted without looking away from what he was doing. “I’m not terribly surprised Ember would too.”

“Trixie’s point is that you’d better come get some before it’s all gone,” Trixie stressed as she approached the helm Thorax stood at.

“Nah, I’ve had my fill,” Thorax said, waving off the offer politely. “Let the others have it if they want.”

“Are you sure?” Trixie asked, moving her head so she could look the changeling in the eye despite him keeping his gaze focused ahead and on where the airship was flying. “I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t eat very much of it at all when you were down there with the rest of us.”

“Didn’t need to,” Thorax assured her warmly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Remember, changelings like me subsist on primarily emotions, so we don’t eat much in the way of solid foods. Indeed, eating too much would only give me a stomachache, and we can’t have that, now can we?” He shot Trixie a small, but embarrassed, grin. “Besides…baked beans make me gassy.”

Trixie snorted, amused. “Don’t they for everybody?” she asked pointedly.

Thorax seriously considered the question for a moment. “They don’t seem to for Spike…” he observed aloud. He shrugged. “But then a dragon like him would be built to eat far coarser things than baked beans without problem, so suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“All right, true, a dragon probably would have a stomach of steel,” Trixie conceded. She sat herself down beside Thorax and turned her gaze at the night outside the airship. “So are you going to be okay up here on your own like this?”

“Certainly,” Thorax replied. “It gives me time to think.”

“Oh. Whatcha thinking about then?”

“Well, at the moment, what we should we do if we arrive in the throne room at the hive, and Queen Chrysalis is there in the room too.”

“I thought we were thinking that we didn’t want to cross paths with any changelings, queen or not, while in the hive.”

“Yes, but I got to thinking that, in all likeliness, the queen will be there in the room anyway. I mean, it is her throne room. So I thought it would be wise to at least be prepared.” Thorax sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s been occurring to me that this all depends on how things are going with our plans at that present time. Best case, I can simply disguise myself as one of her aides and go in to tell her that she’s needed somewhere else in the hive so to get her out of the room long enough for us to continue. But that all assumes everything up to that point goes as we’ve planned and have not alerted the hive to our presence in some manner. If that happens, circumstances would be different, and it could be harder to get her out of the throne room. I fear we may have to be forced to directly confront her in that instance…and that could end in any number of ways that I can’t plan for. If there’s one thing I can say about her highness, it’s that Queen Chrysalis can be unpredictable in the heat of the moment.”

Trixie averted her gaze, folding her hooves. “Hmm,” she grunted dejectedly. “Yet another potentially grave problem for me to sleep on tonight.”

Thorax sensed Trixie’s emotions briefly, and detecting one in particular allowed him to quickly pick his next response. “Speaking of,” he said, “aren’t you supposed to be going to bed right now?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Trixie admitted sheepishly.

“Mm,” Thorax hummed, nodding his head. He decided to be more direct. “You’re nervous, then.”

Trixie scoffed the remark in annoyance, but she still nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Can you blame me?” she asked a little incredulously. “As we speak, we’re basically flying right into the unknown.”

Thorax was quiet for a second. “It’s not unknown to me,” he mumbled quietly.

Trixie glanced at him, trying to read his distant expression. “Then what’s it like in the hive, anyway?” she asked finally.

Thorax took a deep breath. “In its present state…it could be better,” he admitted vaguely. “Basically…I would much rather be in Equestria.”

Trixie gazed out at the night outside the forward viewport in front of them. “And yet, we’re flying right for it,” she murmured in apprehension.

Thorax glanced at her. “Do you have a better idea?”

Trixie lowered her gaze. “I wish I did.”

Thorax sighed, sympathizing. “So do I.”

They were both quiet for a long moment, gazing out the viewport at the night sky while Thorax calmly continued piloting the airship through it.

“Look,” Trixie began suddenly, changing the subject. “About earlier today, when we were talking…”

“It’s okay,” Thorax interrupted, believing he already knew where Trixie was going with this. “I did not understand at first, but I get now why you reacted the way you did.”

“You do?” Trixie asked, slightly dismayed and feeling her embarrassment return.

“Yes, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of, really.”

“Really? I…I would’ve thought you’d think it weird.”

Thorax shook his head. “It’s not really that weird at all. Actually, I suppose it’s a rather natural response.”

“Well…maybe, but it’s still all sorts of awkward,” Trixie persisted, which got Thorax to chuckle again as Trixie pressed on, “because, well, you’re a nice guy and all, but really, why should I be attrac—”

“I suppose I would look a little awkward in that half-pony, half-changeling disguise I was wearing, right?” Thorax interrupted about halfway into Trixie’s remark, not realizing that there was more she was about to say until too late.

Trixie blanked out for a moment, suddenly unsure she and Thorax were thinking of the same thing. “…huh?”

“Earlier, when you were giving suggestions for a new disguise I could wear that would be more…approachable for you,” Thorax explained like it was obvious. He grinned in good humor. “Obviously I never got a good look at it myself, but I imagine I looked quite embarrassingly ridiculous as a curious mix between pony and changeling when Starlight entered when she did.”

Clearly they were both thinking of the same event, but Trixie was now starting to become certain Thorax was viewing it completely differently from her. “…embarrassingly ridiculous?” she repeated, uncertain.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Trixie,” Thorax said and he put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. Trixie dimly thought the holes in the limb felt odd when pressed against her hide like that. “You didn’t need to feel so embarrassed for my sake.”

Trixie blinked a few times then suddenly understood what Thorax was saying. “Oh. Oh!” she cried, then eagerly started nodding in agreement so to hide she had actually been embarrassed for completely different reasons. “Yes! That’s totally what it was about! It was certainly, absolutely, nothing but that! I was—I was feeling embarrassed about how ridiculous you looked and certainly not because…for anything other than how ridiculous you had looked. Yup. That’s all.” She forced a nervous laugh.

Lucky for her, Thorax’s obliviousness to the real truth withheld. “Yeah, that first attempt was a dud,” he agreed, laughing a little himself. “We’ll have to try a different approach later.”

Trixie’s gaze went distant for a moment. “Yeah,” she began slowly. “Trixie’s actually been thinking about that.”

Having caught on by now that Trixie’s use of the third person was often a habitual attempt to hide her discomfort for something, Thorax turned his head so to give her his full attention. “Yes?”

Trixie took in a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Trixie appreciates the offer you take on some shape that’s more…ideal for her, but, um…she’s going to have to turn it down.”

Thorax’s brow furrowed, confused and clearly not expecting her to do this. “But why?”

“Because it’s not right!” Trixie declared, whipping her head around to look Thorax in the eye. “You pretending to be something you’re not is what got us in this situation in the first place, and that’s not fair for you!” She closed her eyes for a second and let her tension unwind a little first before continuing. “Look…I know you think your natural form disturbs me, and you want to make me more comfortable by hiding it, letting me pretend it doesn’t exist…but what about you? What’s more comfortable for you?

Thorax looked at her blankly for a long moment. “…whatever makes the rest of you more comfortable,” he reasoned simply but unsure of his answer. “Because if all of you are comfortable, I know I am safe from fear or harm from you and thereby can be comfortable too.”

“Yes, but you’re thinking too much like a changeling with that answer,” Trixie pointed out. “If that’s how you approach it, then you’ll always be living the lie, and never giving the rest of us the chance to even try to accept you for who and what you are as-is! Maybe the answer you’re looking for to be accepted by ponies is to try harder to be who you really are, and let them see that, so there’s no need for them to have to wonder if it’s real or false.” Her gaze softened. “And I’d much rather see you stop living that lie anyway. You just be you. The rest of us all ought to be able to accept that, not try and turn you into something you’re not.” She motioned to the changeling’s natural form, unobscured save for the jacket he wore. “This should be good enough for us.”

Thorax stared at Trixie for a long moment, considering her words, and then shifted his gaze back to the viewport behind the helm in front of him. He thought long and hard about it. “The only problem with that,” he conceded finally, “is that there is a very real inherent danger to it. I’d be risking bodily harm presenting myself undisguised to someone that did not agree with you.”

“A problem we’ll both have to try to correct,” Trixie agreed. “But hiding yourself from it won’t change it either. How can anyone accept a changeling as a changeling if you never give us the chance, huh?” Trixie then hung her head, a little ashamed. “In fact, I feel like I should owe you an apology.”

Thorax frowned. “For what?”

Trixie turned herself away slightly. “For not being able to accept you for who you are sooner.” She then grinned slightly. “It’s like you said before. You may have disguised yourself outwardly to me in the past…but inwardly, your personality was always the same, without taint or disguise. I should’ve recognized that I had already gotten to know you, the real you, just from talking with you…especially in our letters.” She sheepishly stared at her hooves, rubbing them together idly. “So…sorry for…doubting you.”

Thorax was quiet again for another moment. He chuckled dimly under his breath. “And I am sorry I did not trust you to trust me sooner,” he added then tilted his head at the mare. “Perhaps we have not been going about this…interaction…as well as we should’ve.”

Trixie snickered weakly. “Maybe not.”

“Then perhaps we should start over again from the beginning.” Thorax stuck out his hoof, offering it to Trixie. “Hello, I am Thorax.”

Trixie regarded the extended and chitinous hoof for a second then, grinning, took it in her own azure hoof and shook it. “Hello, Thorax” she greeted, playing along. “I…am the Great and Powerful Trixie! I’m a traveling stage magician and illusionist.”

“And I’m a changeling,” Thorax offered back in response.

Trixie giggled, and nodded her head. “Yes, I can see that.”

They both laughed, and then proceeded to catch up with one another, resuming the friendly relations they had first started out with as if nothing had happened and anything had gotten between them. Most certainly not the fact that one of them was a changeling.


As night settled upon the Vergilus while it continued on its roughly southerly voyage for the changeling hive, most of its occupants were expected to be heading for bed, save for Thorax taking the first shift piloting the craft. Ember was among them, the dragoness ready and anxious to get some shut eye, hoping to be sufficiently rested enough for her own turn at piloting the craft in the early hours of the following morning. However, as she was also the last of the airship’s informal crew to take a turn at the wheel, she was also the one who was likely to get the most uninterrupted sleep, so she still took the time to undergo a normal nighttime routine for herself—polishing her bloodstone scepter that had marked her rise as the newest dragon lord.

The scepter, of course, was purely ceremonial and symbolic. Though it had some magical properties, it was always meant to be more decorative than anything, and it certainly wasn’t the only one in existence either, thus making it far from unique. She knew her father Torch had kept one just like it for himself after stepping down as the previous dragon lord. Most dragon lords barely did anything with the bloodstone scepter once they had claimed the title for themselves. Ember, however, liked to keep the scepter with her whenever she could since her ascension as leader of the dragons, especially when traveling like this, for a couple of reasons. One was that the scepter made for an excellent makeshift weapon in a pinch. Two was that carrying it around just generally made her look awesome. And third, she took it as a reminder of how and why she ultimately came to be the dragon lord…and therefore she had admittedly taken a sentimental liking to it. And as such, a special possession required special treatment, as well as attentive care, keeping it looking nice.

Besides, it made her look even more awesome when she was carrying it freshly polished.

Using a special gem-polishing cloth most dragons generally used for treating keepsake gems for their individual hordes, she had retreated into the airship’s main head to polish the scepter, but only because Starlight, as she was proceeding for bed herself, noticed the cloth tended to kick up a fine ash-colored powder while being used. As such, she suggested to Ember that, to minimize mess, the dragoness should to do the task in the head where it could be contained. Ember had done so only to prevent a fight, but upon finishing concluded the privacy this granted her was sort of nice, allowing her to think about a number of things that had been bouncing around in her mind for most of the truly eventful past day. And when she exited the head with the freshly polished scepter in her claws, she was quickly reminded of one of those matters when she noticed Spike had not yet gone to bed himself, and instead still sat at the saloon table. It had been cleared of the dinner dishes for the evening and now had atop it two stacks of parchments, one notable in size, with a single piece of parchment laid in front of Spike as he quietly wrote upon it. He seemed engrossed enough in his writing that he appeared unaware of Ember’s presence.

Deciding she wanted to discuss a few final things before bed—and partly out of simple curiosity—Ember quietly set aside her scepter then gently approached where Spike was sitting at the table, conveniently positioned so that his back was to her, and leaned herself over so to hang her head above his shoulder, peering at the parchment he was writing upon and briefly skimming through the words written upon it. “Just what are you working on, anyway?”

Spike jumped. “Ack! Ember!” he exclaimed, throwing an annoyed swat at the dragoness, who dodged it by playfully darting out of reach again. “It’s private, all right? Nothing that concerns you!”

“Oh c’mon, what could be so important to merit such secrecy?” Ember retorted as she circled around and leaned over the other dragon to again try and steal a peek at his writings.

Spike noticed this time and, greatly annoyed, flipped the parchment over so to hide what he had written from view. “I mean it, Ember,” he repeated in a warning tone.

“Oh, fine, if you won’t show me…” Ember noticed one sheet of parchment that was sticking out from near the middle of the larger of the two stacks Spike had on the table and darted forward, snagging the edge in her claws and pulling it free from the stack. “…then I’ll just show myself!”

Hey!” Spike shouted and twisted around as he tried to grab the parchment back from her.

Being considerably taller than Spike though, Ember merely straightened to her full height, easily keeping the stolen page of parchment out of his reach. “‘Of course, the news came as a great shock to me,’” Ember began to overdramatically read aloud as Spike jumped around at her feet, trying to snatch back the parchment. “‘Who wouldn’t be shocked with news such as this? But because of that shock, it was momentarily difficult to think about what to do next. Though at that moment, my much greater concern was if this was finally the moment I had long dreaded, the moment where everything came unraveled, that this game of potentially deadly cat and mouse had reached an end, and we just lost.’” Ember’s melodramatic and teasing tone faded away and into a more serious one the further she read, her brow furrowing in puzzlement as the text’s serious tone sank in. “‘That fear had never become more real up to that point in time until that moment, the moment I had heard the sudden and blunt news that my so-called coconspirator as well as greatest and only friend in the world had been arres—’ Spike, just what is this that you are writing?”

She hadn’t even finished speaking this final sentence when she heard a heavy thump of something rebounding off the wall immediately behind her and Spike suddenly soared right in front of her head, snatching the stolen piece of parchment right out of her surprised claws as he flew past. She then turned her head to follow him as the littler dragon landed atop the saloon table, slid across it in a practiced and controlled skid, trying to stop, before he ran out of table and leapt from its far edge and into the wall immediately past it. He bounced gently off it by using one arm and leg as a means of absorbing the brunt of the impact before, having lost most of his momentum, plopped down into the bench seat that wrapped around that end of the table.

Ember gaped at him for a second, her empty claws held before her as if they were still holding the piece of parchment Spike had just snatched back. “How did you do that?” she asked. “What was that?”

“It’s called parkour,” Spike replied flatly, giving the dragoness an annoyed glare as he hopped back up onto the table and walked across it until arriving at the spot he had been sitting and writing until Ember interrupted him. “I took a class on it in Vanhoover about a moon back.” He shook his head as he sat himself down back in his seat, leaning over to flip through the stack Ember had stolen the sheet of parchment from. “But never mind that, this—” he held up the piece of parchment in his claws, “—is nothing you need to be concerned with, and is private. You had no business trying to pry into it, much less stealing pages of it without my permission.” He growled to himself as he sought the proper spot in the stack the parchment had been yanked from. “And these were all ordered by number, you know. Now I have to flip through all of these until I find the right spot to slip this back into.”

Ember stood there and watched numbly, finding herself a bit guilty suddenly. “I’m sorry,” she apologized genuinely, the words spilling out of her mouth without her needing to think about it. “I was just curious as to what you were working on.”

This is a project of no importance to anyone other than me,” Spike replied with a sigh, shooting Ember another annoyed look, but the dragoness’s apology had managed to soften the expression some. “I don’t really expect it to ever see the light of day.”

Ember mulled upon that for a second. “It sort of did just now though, didn’t it?” she couldn’t help but point out in a small moment of teasing defiance.

Spike refocused his attention on sifting through the stack in search of the proper spot the removed piece of parchment needed to be returned to. “Technically, it’s nighttime right now, not day,” he quipped back in response.

A small grin tugged at Ember’s lips. “But it was day when I read that piece of writing you had when we were discussing what you intended to do about Trixie. That was from this too, wasn’t it?”

Spike scowled as he found the right spot and stuffed the parchment back into its spot, unable to argue that point. “If you really must read something, read this one.” He shoved the second, smaller stack of parchments gently in Ember’s direction. “That’s the one I expect will actually go somewhere someday, assuming I can ever get back in Equestria without being immediately arrested or something.”

Ember picked up the first sheet off the top of the stack and started to read through the writings upon it. It was distinctly different from the other work though, clearly a work of fiction and written in third-person perspective in contrast to the first-person the other had used. “This is a story, then?” she asked aloud.

“Yeah, I’ve occasionally been working on it in my spare time,” Spike explained as he resumed writing once again on his original piece of parchment. “It’s sort of my hope that, once it’s complete and I can do some more refining, I can maybe send it in to a publisher and maybe get it published…but we’ll see.”

“I didn’t know you were that serious into the whole writing thing, though.”

“It’s a relatively new thing I’ve picked up I guess, but I haven’t been broadcasting it much for obvious reasons. Not much point discussing it if it’s still a work in progress and there’s still a chance of it never happening. So I’ve been keeping it to myself.”

Ember glanced up, peering at him over the top of the parchment she was reading. “Since when did you become such a secretive dragon?” she asked.

Spike’s scowl returned. “Ever since I was chased out of the Crystal Empire and my survival as well as that of my best friend’s depended on it,” he retorted bitterly.

Ember grunted and chose not to comment on that, instead continuing to read the rest of the piece of parchment in silence. Upon finishing it, she leaned forward to return it to the top of its stack, opting not to take up the next sheet so to continue reading. “I liked the writing in the other one a bit better,” she admitted as she did this.

Spike paused in his writing for a second, then side-glanced curiously at her. “…Really?”

Ember nodded. She pointed at the larger stack of parchments that Spike wanted kept secret so much. “That one feels more…raw and…honest.”

Spike glanced at the stack with a furrowed brow for a second. “But…to be honest, Ember…that one I’ve only been writing for the practice, and…to vent.”

Ember shrugged. “Hey, I’m just giving you my opinion,” she stated. She lowered herself into a seat across the table from Spike with a heavy thump. She watched him write for a moment, and decided to press on with the subject that had originally drawn her here. “Does Thorax know about these writings of yours?”

Spike hesitated, not looking up from his writing. “Sort of,” he admitted. “He knows that I’m writing things, but unlike you, he respects my want to keep them private until I’m ready to share them and hasn’t tried to steal any peeks, so he wouldn’t know much about them.” He tapped the stack of parchments containing the secretive writings with one hand. “I don’t think he even knows about the existence of this one.” He kept writing for a second, then paused and glanced up at Ember. “Why do you ask?”

“Actually…it’s an attempt to try and shift the subject onto Thorax, because I’ve been…thinking about something that’s been troubling me off and on this evening.” Ember leaned forward, folding her arms on the side of the table separating them. “Look, you consider him a friend, right?” she asked.

Spike’s brow furrowed in puzzlement, not understanding where she was going with this. “Yeah…”

“And he considers you a friend, right?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Then…why do I feel like you two are more at odds than either of you have been admitting?”

Spike straightened, setting down his quill. His expression was hard to read, but he didn’t seem pleased by this statement. “What brought this up?”

Ember sighed. “I’ve just been thinking about our conversation earlier this evening, right before the baked beans were served.”

“You mean the one where we were talking about why the sun was setting if the changelings had captured Princess Celestia?”

“That wasn’t the only thing we talked about…remember, we also talked about how Thorax had talked you into agreeing to participate in this rescue plan we’re doing.”

Spike tilted his head at Ember, his expression shifting into something between a scowl and a look of puzzlement. “What of it?” He frowned. “Are you saying you have an issue with him urging me to help in the rescue?”

Ember hesitated. “Spike, you need to know that I have no malice towards Thorax,” she began as a disclaimer. “And know that I don’t enjoy pointing this out, but it’s important enough to me that I think I need to, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot since this first came up earlier this evening.” She sighed. “But what I have an issue with is the fact that you appear to just be doing everything he tells you to do, even though you don’t really agree with doing it. I mean…you’ve made it clear to me you don’t actually want to do this rescue thing.”

“Yes, but you and I both agreed it was still the right thing both of us needed to do.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at though. The fact is that you just do what Thorax tells you to do, and I’m starting to wonder just how much you let him do that. Or even not just Thorax, but a lot of others as well.”

Spike’s frown deepened. “So?”

“So, I know you’re smart enough that you don’t need to do that, and that you’re smart enough to come up and act upon your own plans of action. Yet when Thorax comes along and tells you otherwise, do you even resist?”

“Why would I?” Spike challenged. “Thorax isn’t just a friend, he’s my support, my moral compass, and more. He’s the one that sees and tells me when I need to draw the line, and he’s usually right too.” He sighed, suddenly depressed. “And…he’s often the one who can…ground my temper…or else I would’ve flown off the handle moons ago.” He shook his head. “Somedays Thorax was all that was keeping me sane, Ember.”

Ember frowned at this sudden revelation. “Well, in a way I’m glad he managed to do that much…an insane dragon is a danger to all and itself…and I wouldn’t want that happening to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Spike agreed, allowing himself a slight smile.

“But that doesn’t mean Thorax is always right,” Ember pressed on. She glanced across the table at Spike. “More to the point, I know you can think independently, have seen you think for yourself, and yet…it seems like you’d still prefer to just let others tell you what to do all the time.”

Spike’s expression morphed into a repelled frown that wrinkled his snout. “I’m not always right either, Ember,” he retorted. “Nor do I always know what to do. Sometimes it’s helpful to have that guidance from someone else.”

“You’re missing my point,” Ember stressed. “It’s not that you’re getting outside input that’s the problem, it’s that I worry you’ve become solely reliant upon it, viewing the opinions of others as always overruling your own.” She leaned further across the table. “Look, back when you and Thorax were chatting in the head today…he was telling you to leave Trixie alone, wasn’t he?”

Spike’s frown deepened. “So what if he was? It’s not any of your business. That is between me and Thorax.”

“Exactly, and you don’t like him hanging around Trixie, so why are you letting him talk you out of it so incredibly easily?

Spike’s frown now transformed into a scowl and he turned his head, twisting his body away. “There’s far more to that matter than just Trixie, Ember.” He sighed wearily. “Besides, what difference does it make? I’m quite certain now that Thorax is going to pursue Trixie anyway, I just know it. He’s done it before anyway, so why would he stop now?” He sighed again, only this time deeper and wearier still. “And Thorax…after everything he’s been through…Thorax deserves the chance to make his own choices, to have the freedom to decide for himself. I know that. I’ve been trying to encourage that. So me trying to oppose him on his own choices simply because I don’t personally agree with that choice…sort of defeats the point. But…look, after he and I talked about it, I feel I was wrong to act as I did…and I just shouldn’t be getting in the way of that anyway, telling Thorax what to do just because I disagree with it.”

“But neither should he,” Ember pressed. “Look, I like Thorax too, and I want to see him succeed too, but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to always get his way and you don’t.”

“He’s not.”

Is he?”

No.”

“Then you’re going to let him pursue Trixie, even though you clearly think it’ll be a mistake?”

It’s got nothing to DO with Trixie, Ember,” Spike suddenly snapped. But it wasn’t out of anger; his expression was rapidly turning troubled, anxious, and afraid. “Trixie just happens to be the easy target to attack it through. No, no, no, I mean it’s true, I don’t like her all that much, but honestly? It’s really got nothing to do with her specifically. It’s all more about what would happen with Thorax if he did, and…” he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from Ember. “I don’t want to talk about it, Ember. It’s none of your business anyway.” He sniffed and rubbed one arm across his eyes quickly before, his composure restored, he turned and faced her directly again as if nothing had happened. “Besides…what’s it to you, anyway?”

“Because your opinions matter too, Spike,” she stated seriously. “And yet, the way I see it, I’m starting to fear you’re letting your opinions be suppressed simply because those such as Thorax tell you not to pursue them and you don’t challenge that. Spike, a dragon doesn’t just give up on their opinions, they make them known DESPITE outside pressure to just shut up and do as you’re told.”

My opinion was to turn my back to everything and let the changelings have Equestria,” Spike pointed out. “Allowing everyone including friends and allies such as Fly Leaf, who even I agree don’t deserve it, to a horrible fate…and for no reason other than petty revenge, Ember.” He scowled darkly at her. “Surely you didn’t actually want me doing that, right? Because what Thorax pointed out to me was that was basically like how Twilight threatened to start a war with you and the dragons just so to have her way.” He averted his gaze, ashamed. “None of us have the right to be gambling the lives of innocents over grudges such as that.”

Ember licked her lips for a second. “My point, Spike, is that I worry you’re letting him rule and dictate your life, because he wants to pursue things his way, and good intentions or not, it’s only suppressing your freedom to be an individual, keeping you from having a say in what are truly your affairs. Yes, turning your back on Equestria is a horrible idea, but that’s all your choice, and you should be free to make it, regardless of what he thinks. And it’s not just that matter of helping Equestria, there’s also the matter of Trixie. You don’t want him doing anything with her, made it clear to me that you weren’t going to let it happen, took the time to tell her upfront all of this, and yet at the first sign of resistance to that from Thorax, you backed off completely. And the more I think about this—and I have for most of this evening—the more I fear this is just the latest of a long series of such events. Spike, he may be your friend, and I don’t doubt he means the absolute best for you, not for a second, but as far as I can see, you’re letting him walk all over you, and he’s basically dictating your life for you, and what’s worse is that I don’t think he even realizes it.”

You know why I don’t question Thorax on things like this?” Spike suddenly snapped, whipping his head back around to face Ember again. “It’s because he’s still right. It’s not Thorax that’s ruling my life, it’s my anger, and it’s only leading me to do things that will only make things worse. I was wrong to threaten Trixie and to try and tell him what to do. I was wrong to try and shun Equestria simply because I was too angry at Twilight to try and even raise a claw. I was wrong about of a lot of things that Thorax has had to sit me down and set me straight over these long four moons, and there’s probably far more he could’ve done that he didn’t out of respect for me! I wasn’t exaggerating when I said Thorax was all that’s kept me sane, Ember. You don’t know just how furious and upset I am at things, how much I’ve wanted to let that blind me and take control and just tear everything apart just to try and get this fury the hay out of me. But ThoraxThorax understands that, yet knows that if I don’t keep myself in check, I’ll only hurt myself more.” He started to tear up. “And by golly, I’m hurting far more than I can handle already. I have been for much, much, too long. He knows that, and he’s trying to help however he can to help me get over it, but darn it, I’m just too stubborn! I just can’t let go of my hatred of the misdoings that have been brought upon us both, and I’m not stupid, Ember, I know it’s holding me back, because just look at Thorax! He’s let go of all of this, and he’s gone on to get all these wonderful things, building a promising life and friendships and opportunities for himself because of it, and if we actually pull this crazy plan of ours off, he’s got an absolutely wonderful future ahead of him! He’s moving on. He’s got peace, happiness, love, success…a veritable dream come true coming for him, and yet here I am, wallowing in grief and unable to bring myself to join him on that path to success because I have a hatred gnawing away at me, holding me back, tying me down, that I can’t even bring myself to even try to swat away, and sometimes I don’t think I even want to.” He sank back into the seat, eyes squeezed tight as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back tears, his little body shuddering from the very effort. “But it doesn’t matter…I will not allow my personal grievances stand in the way of his success. Not ever. If I can succeed at doing anything worthwhile myself now…it’s seeing to it that Thorax goes on to live happily ever after. After that…who cares about me?”

He broke down and openly wept after that. Stunned by this passionate display of emotion, Ember awkwardly sat there, unsure what to do and what the right thing to do would be in this situation, and watched her fellow dragon and friend pitifully sob and not liking it one bit. She wanted to do something, but this wasn’t normally the sort of thing a dragon had to deal with. Usually dragons kept this to themselves and were left alone by others, but that seemed like the absolutely worst thing to do in this instance.

So instead, Ember decided to not do it the dragon way.

Leaving her seat, she padded around the table and knelt down beside where Spike sat, weeping still. She hesitated awkwardly for a second, but then pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around him. “I care,” she whispered softly.

Spike didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around her tightly, savoring the hug, and continued to cry into her shoulder. They remained like that for some time until Spike had cried himself out and just quietly sat there in Ember’s embrace.

Eventually, exhausted from the emotional strain the conversation had unexpectedly wrought upon her and seeing the same tiredness settle onto Spike’s face, she decided it would be better to save further discussion on this subject for another time and to sleep this off for now. “I think,” she said slowly and softly, “it’s time we both went to bed.”

Spike nodded his head in agreement. “Okay,” he whispered.

They pulled apart. Spike gathered up his papers. Ember assisted without drawing protest from Spike. She then escorted him to his bunk and helped him into it, watching as he collapsed into it. He was soon fast asleep. Ember watched him fade into slumber for a moment, then wearily turned and headed off for bed herself, picking up her scepter from where she had left it as she went.

Author's Note:

As promised, a notably shorter chapter this week.

A couple parts of this one are just to fill in a couple of gaps in things, but most of the rest is more to "set the scene" for later discussions in the story...a sort of "part 1" for more things along those same topics coming soon, some right away, a few not until much later.

As those who follow the comments in full may have noticed, I have been engaged in discussion with some readers about how I've been handling the Spike/Thorax dynamic and whether or not it has gotten "off," a matter that I do indeed plan to address directly very soon, but first, I felt it was important that you all understand why Spike lets Thorax have things his way so often. From his point of view, it really is his remaining chief goal in life, so to speak.

Also, I was a bit disappointed that there were no comments about the blurb on Spike's writing last chapter, so seeing that a subtle hint didn't seem to work, maybe I'll just club you guys a bit more directly with it this time. :raritywink:

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