Chapter 2
Chapter 2- In Which Love Occurs
Upon seeing the drenched, mud crusted and distraught young dragon making his way slowly and painfully up the castle steps towards the large, double doors of the throne room, the royal guards had stepped forward to stop his journey, unaware of who he was, of what he was feeling or of what he had promised to her, to his wonderful sister. They didn't need to say anything when they halted directly in front of Spike, their golden armour gleaming in the rain, they didn't need to disallow him entrance to the castle, they just needed to stand there, solid and unmoving, knowing that it would repel the young dragon and send him home, the sight of two royal guards barring the entrance to the castle would constantly send ponies, griffins and the occasional diamond dog running home. What they didn't know and, unfortunately, what Spike did know is that he had promised his sister, his Twilight that he would do this final, parting task, this final role as her number one assistant and there would be no force on this planet that could stop him now, nothing that could make the sense of commitment vanish for it was the only thing that stopped him from plunging entirely into the pool of sorrow and sadness which threatened to overwhelm him.
With a low, animalistic grunt that sounded almost like a sob, Spike pushed forward, his unusual strength sending the guards tumbling to the sides as he continued his slow, methodical walk to the doors, intent only on one thing and one thing alone. Partially startled by the reaction of the young dragon and partially stunned by the ease at which he had shrugged them off, the guards gaped at each other for a minute, rain tinkling on their helmets before they raced towards him, barking out loud orders that demanded him to stop, to desist in his walk and turn himself into them lest they have to remove him forcefully from the castle. Still the young dragon walked forward until he rested both of his claws upon the double doors, pushing with all of his strength as the doors swung open with a low groan, the wind rushing into the throne room and the rain splattering the marble floor as Spike trudged in, followed by the angered guards who almost immediately leapt upon him, latching themselves to him and trying to wrestle him to the ground before they were stopped by a single voice that seemed to puncture the air like a needle.
“Desist royal guards!”
Spike knew that voice and, unconsciously and without his consent, his head lifted up from his chest, tears still sleeping in his eyes as he gazed at the sight before him with glazed, misty orbs. The throne room, white marble walls sparkling, luscious, colourful banners flapping in the heavy breeze, windows glinting with flashes of pelting rain, throne coated crimson red, was as he had always remembered it save for one fact. Upon the throne sat not Princess Celestia but Princess Luna, the midnight mare alicorn gazing crossly at her guards as she rose from the comfortable chair, trotting over to where Spike stood, the guards having backed away and bowed at her simple command, their cheeks still flushed a faint red colour. He knew he should bow, he knew he should show his respects but that was not why he was here, he was not here to be gracious and courteous, he was here for her and afterwards he would be gone, far, far away from Equestria and its ponies.
Princess Luna trotted closer to him and he gazed at her without emotion, detached and almost dead as if his life had been torn away from him, as if his heart had been ripped out. Princess Luna kept up her pace until she stood directly in front of him, her eyes locked onto his almost passionately, as if she was searching his soul, as if she were gazing into his being. Finally, after a few seconds of which Spike stood blankly and impassive, Luna waved off her guards with a flick of her tail, the twin golden armoured equines rushing back outside to their stations as the midnight mare sat down directly in front of Spike and spoke up in a quiet voice, so irregular and unusual compared to how she had once sounded.
“You are here for her, are you not?”
Spike nodded with a small gesture before he winced as another bolt of fresh pain tore through his heart, remembering the time in which he had dressed up as a dragon for Nightmare Night and how Twilight had helped Princess Luna return to a world of love and care. Spike opened his mouth, aware that he should speak, that if she were here, his little pony, she would be ashamed at his silence, aghast at his disagreement towards speaking. Before he could speak however, he was silenced by a crystal covered hoof pressing against his lips, the tip cold and unwelcoming to him as Luna spoke up in a hushed voice.
“You are in pain, young dragon, you do not have the strength in you for many words. Save them for someone who truly needs them, dare not to waste them.”
Spike swallowed a ball of ice that had settled in his throat at her touch before he nodded slowly, eyes tingling again, puffy and inflamed as Princess Luna removed her hoof and gestured with a flick of her ethereal tail for him to follow her as she trotted away, towards a single, boring, wooden door that sat directly to the right of the throne itself, the young princess and the destroyed dragon walking through it to creep and walk through long corridors, filled with fierce draughts and coursing coldness. Once more, without his need, without his wish to remember, Spike found himself thinking back on her, of the times they had had in the castle as his body went on autopilot, following the princess with ease.
He remembered how together they had played hide and seek amongst the halls, how at one point he had gotten lost and had cried out for her in fear and loneliness and how, almost immediately she had appeared to him, a small smile on her face as she bopped him lightly on the nose and called him silly for going so far. He remembered her fascination with books and how they would spend hours on end everyday in the library, as he would sit on his favourite wooden chair, reading up on myths and legends with fearsome dragons and brave knights and how he had wished to be the knight, to save the damsel in distress. How she would lay on the floor, a soft candle glowing beside her, eyes roaming the pages of her chosen book, absorbing every aspect, her tongue poking out from her lips as she moved the page over with her magic, small smiles dotting her face every time she would accomplish the task. He remembered long nights where they would stay awake, giggling under the protection of their covers as they disobeyed their bedtimes, the both of them usually falling asleep only an hour after the designated time. He remembered her discovering Nightmare Moon's tale of old, how worried she had been, how he had laughed and how, in the end, she had been right about it, she had been right about everything. He remembered her face as she lay down on that final night, happy and content as she read her final book, the candle light dying and flickering as she slowly closed her eyes, as she took her last breath, as her last smile painted across her face.
Spike blinked back tears again, growling at himself in small traces of anger. Twilight had said that she would need him, that he would have to make sure she was alright and he would be no use to Twilight if he was trapped in his own emotions, he would fail her final task and disrespect her memory.
Without realizing, his mind sunk deeply into swirling memories and bitter-sweet reminisces, the pair of them, the lunar princess and the broken, beaten dragon had arrived directly outside of a similarly wooden door that was surrounded by cracked marble walls, the midnight mare beside Spike almost hesitantly speaking up as if she was afraid of what awaited him behind that closed door.
“Travel up the staircase and you will find her room...Be brave Spike for, believe it or not, she is in a far worse place then you.”
Spike had to visibly restrain his barbed reply, his sorrow torn whip from lacing into Princess Luna for there was no creature, big or little, old or young that could possibly feel worse then him, that could possibly understand how much it hurt, how much pain flooded his veins like liquid lead. She was gone, gone, gone, that simple thought raced around his head and his heart, tearing and slicing into him until he wanted to pull it out, to pull out all of his feelings, all of his emotions so that he would never have to feel this much agony, so that he would never have to feel this burden. Nobody, nopony could ever know how much it hurt, how much the pain tore into him, how little he knew of the young dragon he had once been would be left after he had said his final goodbyes, fulfilled her final wish. With a disjointed nod of thanks, Spike opened the wooden door, the frame creaking before he began to slouch and tumble up the steps, occasionally stopping when a memory that was too vivid, too powerful overcame his senses and brought tears to his eyes, his nose streaming by now much like his eyes.
Eventually he reached the top of the stairs, emerging into a fairly large room with one, single, golden door situated directly in front of him, the faintest traces, the quietest tingles of soft sounds breaking from its depths. The soft sounds that Spike knew all too well and, for the first time in his journey, Spike hesitated to continue, hesitated to open the door and to try to comfort for if Celestia was in any pain like his, if she could even feel a shred of what he was going through then he knew that comforting her, telling her it was alright and okay would never, ever work. Still, he had made her a promise, he had made sure she knew that he would do all he can for Celestia and he would not, could not back down now. He had a duty, a task to complete for her sake and he would, even if it hurt him to stay any longer in Equestria.
With a resigned sigh and a final, sad but hardened thought towards what he had promised Twilight, Spike moved forward, tail slithering over the floor, and pushed the door open, walking into the room slowly, his reptilian eyes glancing around the room in a dull sheen, noting the darkness, the decrepit state and the unfamiliar smatterings of destroyed items that littered the floor. Two massive, crimson red curtains concealed the outside world from view, enclosing the room in a veil of shadowed darkness so that even Spike, with his enhanced eyesight, struggled to make out anything inside the room. The state of the royal chambers was a mess of destruction and sorrow, much like the after effects of an explosion of epic proportions, ancient artefacts, noble heirlooms and quirky items laying broken and scattered across the room, banners ripped from walls, clothing strewn everywhere in sight, carpeting the floor. Splashes of drink and half eaten forms of food spread across the floor like water, seething and pooling together as if they were family. The whole room smelt of something rotten, of sodden wood and rotten food, of dirty clothes and perfume that had sat unused for a long, long time. The intense feeling of pain, of sorrow and agony pierced and permeated the air so strongly, so richly that Spike, at first, believed that his torturous heart had grown a scent, had poured forth from him. The faint, keening, heart-rending, spine-tingling, distraught sound of soft, faint weeping filled the air, punctuated every once in a while by a choked sob that seemed to reflect a incoherent word, a word filled with such desolate pain that it made Spike wince accidentally.
The bed covers had been deposited unceremoniously on the floor, along with the pillows and it was there, smothered and choked within the soft quilt, that he found her weeping gently, her whole, regal form shaking from a pain he recognized. What Spike saw then, as he looked upon the weeping Goddess, her mask fallen, her emotions spewing from her, her sorrow and her heartache gushing forth from her in fat tears and strangled cries, dishevelled mane and dirtied body, what he saw then made him take an involuntary step, not backwards but forwards as he struggled to come to terms with what he was seeing, as he struggled to come to terms with the sounds of the cries of a deity, as he struggled to fight his way through the swamping feeling of failure and sadness, such deep-set sadness. What he saw there made him catch his breath, made tears spring to his eyes, but not ones of sadness over Twilight but of gratitude for in front of him, right here, right now was a creature that understood him, his pain and his suffering and why no manner of pitiful, sorry phrases or tears ushered forth would ever be enough to truly cleanse the pain.
As he looked down upon the weeping Goddess, he saw himself and he knew, he just knew that it had been the best, the greatest idea to come here, to complete her final wish for here was someone who understood him and the unbearable pain of losing his Twilight.
Without thinking, without realizing what he was doing or why he was doing it, Spike crouched to the floor and wrapped his purple scaled arms around Princess Celestia's weeping form, drawing her close to him as he to allowed fresh tears to spring to his eyes, as he to allowed his emotions to break free and roam this darkened room, as he to attempted to draw out the poisonous pain by weeping and weeping and weeping, his head folding onto the head of the huddled, crumpled and destroyed Princess who, in turn, folded into him as though he were her life line, sinking into his chest and sobbing freely, no longer trying to contain her high, peeling sobs with dainty cries. And why should she any more, her student was dead, her student had left her just like so, so many others and there was nothing she could do, nothing she could ever do with all of her years of life. Spike's tears fell freely from his eyes, plopping onto and into the frazzled mane of the princess, sinking into its depths like they had never been there as the ball of ice and sorrow inside of him began to unclench, taking command of his body as he folded into the warm ball in front of him, curling his head over Celestia's so that it rested upon her mane, his monstrous shoulders heaving with sobs that should have never been spilt. And then, vaguely but clearly, the strangled cries that had escaped Celestia's throat for so long, the incoherent babble of suffering and torture formed a word, a single word that reflected so much pain, so much unbearable, monstrous, horrific pain that it spiked through the air, that it brought fat, rolling tears springing from Spike's eyes more freely as he listened, time and time again to her cries, her sobs, his feelings imitated perfectly by another, his heart ache shown through someone else. Dimly, choked with tears and hoarse from a red, raw throat, the cries echoed around the room, falling on the ears of only the lonely.
“Twilight.”
{~}
Spike didn't know how long they stayed like that, curled into each other like long lost relatives, feeling the tears of the other chilling them both to the core, hearing the wheezes and weeping puncture their ears, trying to draw out the poison of their own loneliness and depression to no avail, and neither did he want to know how long they remained that way, he did not want to know how long it had taken for even a shred of his pain to vanish and vanish it had, like a small icicle being ripped from the shards of ice that sliced and laid in his heart. So much remained, so much of him hurt deep, deep within and he knew that it would take time, a long time for it to heal, to relinquish its deathly, treacherous, diseased grip on his heart but he knew it would eventually loosen for he had had to sit through five other deaths, five other heart-rending passings and each time, though it had taken a vast amount of time, he had returned from the pinnacle of the deteriorating pain.
After days, or weeks, or months, or years they emerged from one another, both of them simultaneously gazing into each others eyes, no words being spoken but the meaning all too clear, telling the other that it would not be alright, that the pain would not go away entirely, that it would hurt and hurt and keep hurting for many, many years but that they would endure, they would carry onwards for it would be what she would want. Celestia had roused herself from her afflicted, desolate stupor and had almost climbed out of her shell, wordlessly but methodically drawing a fire from the small fireplace that had remained hidden behind piles of tossed and torn clothing, summoning up two chairs from somewhere in the room and positioning them in front of the fire as if it was an old habit of hers, the dead, detached look in her eyes suggesting that she had no true control over her actions, that she was merely working automatically, that the real Celestia was no longer in control, not at the moment anyway. Without a word or even a hint of one, the regal, royal princess collapsed loudly into the soft, comforting embrace of one of the chairs, her eyes staring straight into the fire without any traces of emotion, Spike settling into his own chair to stare at the fire similarly, replaying all of his memories of Twilight time and time again, wanting to cry but no longer having the energy or the tears to weep. Instead there was just a void, an expanse that was filled with loneliness and a sense of abandonment, the abyss nearly swallowing him up before he was awoken from his fevered, frantic dream by the croaky, emotion torn voice of Celestia.
“Do you remember the first day you met me Spike?”
The tone of her voice, such coldness and isolation and yet just the smallest hints of humour managed to shake Spike free from his mind and yes, yes he did remember the first time he had met Celestia properly. A small smile swept across his draconian face as he remembered how worried Twilight had been, constantly grooming his spines, polishing his purple scales and making him recite exactly what to say time and time again until he had it ingrained into his memory. 'Hello Princess Celestia, I'm Spike the dragon, it's a pleasure to meet you'. He could still remember it now and the look of pride that Twilight had worn, her entire complexion positively beaming before her jaw dropped when Princess Celestia laughed and told him fully that she preferred just being called Celestia and that rules and regulations were not needed, that she was just like any of them and no tiara or necklace could ever change that. He remembered Twilight stuttering in confusion, his little dragon self laughing at her valiantly as Princess Celestia joined in with a tinkling peal of giggles. Oh yes, he remembered that day well.
“Hello Princess Celestia, I'm Spike the dragon, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
His voice, once full of enthusiasm and a desire to prove himself to his older sister, was now dulled and glossy yet still tinged with the traces of a good memory, the phrase alone making Celestia crack a tiny, fragile smile before it was washed away by another impassive look as she spoke up again, her voice still broken but now whispered with traces, hints of a need, a lust to reminisce over her student, a desire to make sure she could never forget her. To go over her best, brightest and most memorable moments, to praise her.
“How about the time she had to let go of Miss Smarty Pants?”
He remembered that time well for it was the very first time he had seen his older sister, his protector and surrogate mother, cry in sadness. It was the first time he had comforted another creature, how he had wrapped his stubby little arms around her, simulating the rocking motion she had done for so many nights to get him to sleep, the lavender filly almost immediately curling into him, tears staining and tracking down his scales. Her parents, cruel and yet decisive as they were, refused her the possession of Miss Smarty Pants for she had grown too old, she had grown too smart to keep a stuffed toy and though she would surely miss her little, soft, furry friend, it was for the best. He had been there when she had bolted off to find Princess Celestia, crying and gushing and wailing aloud what had happened, how unfair it was and he remembered clearly the expression on the princesses face, one of anger at the parents of the young filly that was currently bawling in front of her. He remembered listening from afar as the princess managed to convince Mr and Mrs Sparkle to let Twilight have her doll back, even if it was only for an hour a day. Most of all though, he remembered the look of gratitude on her face when he had cheered her up, when he had made her giggle and snort in hilarity as he solely re-enacted her favourite play to her, Roameo and Juliet.
“O-of course I do. She was so distraught.”
His voice wavered slightly as he remembered the teary look in her sparkling eyes when he had wrapped his arms around her, the joy and happiness etched across her face when her doll had been returned. He missed her, her smile, her twinkling eyes, her grouchy behaviour. He missed every little thing about her, good or bad.
They continued that way for a long, long time, reminiscing over the moments in Twilight's life that both he and the princess beside him needed, no, longed to hear just to make sure that they knew everything about her, that there was not a single smidgeon of the wonderful Twilight Sparkle that would go unnoticed. Together, they sought out old and new memories, of her disbelief and frustration towards the Nightmare Moon incident, how she had refused to make friends at first and then, with the help of five of the greatest mare known to ponykind, how she had discovered its brilliant magic and banished the dark spirit that had captured Luna in a deathly tight grip. They remembered her battle with Discord, how it had been thanks to the assistance of her number one assistant and her own friendship reports of so long ago that had given her the courage and the strength of will to fight onwards through strife and struggle, eventually overcoming the spirit. They remembered her incident with Miss Smarty Pants, both of them being graced with light smiles as they thought back to the fear she had felt, the punishment she had expected and the surprising but welcome end result. The joy on her face at that moment, knowing she would not be snatched from her friends, that they themselves would be able to experience the wonders of writing down the lessons they learn, had remained in both Spike's and Celestia's mind for a long, long time, the both of them allowing small tears to race down their cheeks, dashing them away with a claw and a hoof, eager to continue to make sure that if she was looking down from above, to make sure that she knew that she was loved, that she was remembered.
They talked, whispered, remembered deep into the night, each story bringing the both of them out of their tightly sealed, impenetrable shells that defended them from the horrors of life and death. As the evening wore on and as, surprisingly, Celestia produced an old, dusty bottle of what appeared to be red wine from a hidden part of her room, declaring it had been stored for an occasion like no other and whilst tonight was not a night for celebration, it was an important night for both of them. She had seemed to emerge from her deformed, broken, hollow state more and more into the night, greater even then Spike, the reasoning may have been the amount of wine consumed by her or the simple fact that she had accepted that the pain would not leave and that they owed Twilight their happiness. Smiles had broken forth across her face more and more regularly as the moon rose to its zenith and then began its descent, the occasional laugh at Twilight's antics breaking the relative silence of the decimated room. Spike himself had made a valiant, illustrious effort to remove himself from his depression and his agony, instead opting to remember the fonder, funnier, better moments of Twilight Sparkle's life instead of doting on her death. Though he had initially taken to the castle merely because of her last wish, because he felt obligated to make sure that the task would not go uncompleted, Spike had found himself enjoying the time with Celestia, both for a shoulder to cry on and because she knew, she knew how he was feeling and she would not belittle him or disrespect him by offering false words of encouragement, she would not make a habit of saying that everything would be alright. She knew of the inner-most struggle of his heart, his burning, stabbing pain because she felt it too and, without his consent, he found himself enjoying her company, for her ability to pull out the most peculiar memories to make him laugh and for her ability to truly sympathize.
And then, as the fire crackled and began to die, as the moon yawned and sank lower into the sky, the pair of them reached some unknown and unspoken agreement, a clashing of eyes that were filled with false warmth and happiness, trying to battle and shield from the pain inside. They needed to talk, they needed to know of her final moments so that the picture, the painting of Twilight Sparkle was complete. Of course it was Celestia who brought the unspoken, hated question to life, her once warm, almost juvenile voice now cold and barren, a barrier erected between herself and the outside world in an attempt to halt and stop the pain that was sure to come from flooding her soul.
“W-what did she do in her final hours Spike? How did she leave this world?”
Spike swallowed loudly, his mind racing as his happiness, as his humour and his desire to learn more of his egghead sister fell away to be replaced by that desolately lonely feeling, to be replaced by the sharp stabbing of the icy tendrils that he had pushed to the corner of his mind for so, so long just to admire and respect the mare he had known for so long, to make sure that both of them knew her and what she had accomplished. But now, seated beside Celestia, he realized that he couldn't, simply couldn't bring himself to tell her of how she had left this world because it would kill him, it would break his heart and it would break his mind. She was gone, that was that, there was nothing on this planet that could change that so why did it matter how she died, how she passed away!?
But...but she deserved to know, the benevolent, beloved ruler of Equestria deserved to know that Twilight had simply told him, straight up that this was it, that she was dying. How she had taken a single book from the library, snatched a candle from her private collection and then proceeded to simply lay down in her bed like she would do so long ago, her all night study sessions, as she began to read and read until she could read no more, until she could breath no more. He remembered her final words, begging him to seek out the princess before she sighed at his fast reply, small tears twinkling in her eyes as she smiled, wholly and happily, drawing in a final shaky breath before she expelled sharply, her eyes closing and tears coursing down her cheeks to settle on the pillows, her chest falling still and her eyes never to open again, never to wake him up, never to berate him for eating the ice cream, never to sparkle with the secrets of books or the passion of friendship. He knew he must tell her this, tell her of Twilight's final moments but he couldn't, not like that, for it would destroy both of them and so, in a shaky, beaten and distraught voice he spoke up.
“She left this world like Twilight Sparkle, with a good book and a waxing candle.”
And that was a good enough answer for both of them.
“We should toast them, all of them, for they deserve it.”
Celestia's voice rose up, barely in check, trembling with tightly suppressed emotions as she levitated the nearly empty wine bottle over to her glass, pouring some of the red liquid inside before she repeated the same movement with Spike's glass, the wine bottle jingling and shaking in the air as the solar princess struggled to control her heightening, powerful and loud emotions. Shakily, she raised her voice loud enough for both of them to easily hear, the pair rising from their chairs to stand close towards the front of the flickering fire, glass in claw and glass in hoof, the solar princess refusing to use her magic for a task so important.
“To Rarity, the Element of Generosity, for always being there for her friends.”
The first tear slid down their faces.
“To Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness, for being the wonderful mare she was.”
The second fell to meet the first on the floor.
“To Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter, for always seeing the light in the dark.”
The third trailing from misty eyes.
“To R-Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, for never giving up in the face of adversity.”
Fourth. Fifth. Sixth.
“To A-A-Applejack, the Element of...of Honesty, for always seeking the truthful option.”
Seventh. Eighth. Ninth. Tenth. A choked sob following the trend.
“To...To T-Twilight Sparkle, the Element o..of Magic, for discovering the m-magic of friendship.”
And then, together they clinked their glasses and rose them to their mouths, swallowing the wine and the tears, the sorrow and the pain as they tried desperately to restrain their tears, to make sure that the painting they had made together was not washed away by their ruthless, rugged emotions. It could not be contained forever though and, after countless hours of reciting the oldest of their memories dedicated towards Twilight Sparkle, the both of them finally caved in, the tears sliding once more down their faces as they latched onto each other once more, grateful for the comfort, for knowing that there was someone else out there that knew what was going through their minds.
They stayed that way for many, many minutes, both of them collapsing to the floor in a small huddle halfway through, their legs no longer willing to work through the torture, before the sounds of crying stopped, a single, exhausted sigh breaking the air as Princess Celestia lent her head against Spike's warm chest, tingling with the fire within him, her eyes closing as she gave into the pressure of the day, falling asleep right there and then, no longer caring how he saw her, how she must look to him. Spike noticed, seconds later, that instead of cries and wails piercing the air there was only the occasional rustle of escaping breath from the mouth of the solar ruler, a small, humoured smile breaking across his face as he looked down upon the creature he had seen for so long as the almighty ruler of Equestria curled into him, sleeping peacefully like a small filly. With a gentle embrace, Spike wrapped his arms underneath the slumbering form of the solar princess and heaved her upwards, carrying her silently and smoothly to her bed, laying her gently on its surface before he turned around and grabbed the covers, whipping them over her snoozing form as he had done to Twilight for many years, her old age meaning that she couldn't stay up as late as she used to.
Spike cast one more look at the form of the princess, heart telling him to stay with her because she understood, because she could help alleviate the pain, head telling him to leave, that he had helped her as he had promised Twilight and that if he stayed in Equestria any longer then the pain may become truly unbearable. He struggled for a few seconds to come to an agreement between body and soul before he sighed deeply, turning to walk away and leave her alone to wake up in the morning before he was stopped by a timid, young and feeble voice.
“Please don't go. I...I don't want to be alone tonight.”
Spike turned slowly, his eyes settling almost instantly on the small, fragile looking head poking out from underneath the covers of the bed, the once awe-inspiring, magnificent magenta eyes now shining with the fear of abandonment and an almost childish want to not be alone tonight, to not have to face the nightmares and the memories solely. It took Spike a few seconds to realize something, something so very important but when he did he knew that he couldn't decline her invitation, her desire for him to stay. Right now, Celestia was the child, not him. Right now, she was more afraid of the dark and what the lonely morning may bring then him because he could leave, because he could make his exit and no one would miss him but she couldn't, she was needed and she would have to stay despite the pain. He couldn't leave her, not now for it would break his promise to Twilight and so, with a light nod, Spike pounded back to one of the chairs beside the fireplace, curled up into it and closed his eyes, wishing for a sleep that would never come.
{~}
“I miss her Spike, I miss her more then I ever thought possible.”
A sparse, wretched hour had ticked by for the lonely dragon in the chair, his mind filled with thoughts of Twilight and her life, his mind weary and tired but unable to fall asleep. Occasionally, he had thrown a glance in Princess Celestia's direction but each time his look was not returned, the mare sleeping deeply and comfortably whilst he suffered without help. Now though, just as he thought himself able to fall asleep efficiently, he was roused from his daze by her quiet, weary voice issuing forth from somewhere in the room, the young dragon craning and cracking his neck around to gaze at the bed wordlessly, only to find it empty, the covers tangled and tossed to the floor carelessly. Slowly, his sleep deprived eyes roamed the room until they fixed upon a single position, the window in which the curtains had once been shrouded was now partially viewable, a faint crack in the red curtains allowing small traces of moonlight to pour through and illuminate the figure standing directly in front of it, looking upwards out of the window and towards the sky as if she expected it to look back.
He croaked up with a raw, sore voice, eyes never leaving Celestia as he pushed himself from the chair, stumbling over to her.
“I do too Celestia. So much more each hour.”
Her voice rose up again as the dragon made his way towards her, soft but filled with misery and a need to understand something of the little dragon that had grown so big, that had grown so wise.
“How will you cope with it Spike, knowing that each morning, when you wake up, she will never be there?”
And how would he cope with it? He had imagined that leaving Equestria, fleeing its borders and never returning would somehow offer him sanctuary from the pain but now as he thought about it, it would only make things worse. He would have no comfort, no help from any creature. He would have had to live out his life in solitude, longing for her to return to him, pining and crying and weeping for years and years and years, hopeless and lost. No, he could not leave Equestria, not now but how, how would he cope, how could he survive day after day with this horrible pain in his chest?
“I won't cope. I'll cry and cry and cry again and when it's done and settled, when I can't cry any more then I'll...I'll be happy. Not for myself, I don't think I can bring myself to be truly happy for a long time, but I'll be happy, for her.”
Celestia nodded faintly, still staring out of the window as the young dragon joined her, his long claws grabbing and pulling at the curtain slightly to reveal to him the night sky, twinkling and dancing with wonderful stars, the moon dipping lower and lower. He was roused from his view by her soft, gentle voice by his side.
“You have learnt so very much Spike. You have become wiser then I ever thought.”
And then, with a choked, strangled sigh that rivalled that of a paroxysm, he replied in a similarly quiet voice.
“I had the best teacher.”
Almost symmetrically, they turned to one another, the moonlight dancing across their faces as they stared into each others eyes, the magenta orbs that had once held such humour and warmth now dulled with hurt but no less pretty. And Spike saw her in a light that he had never seen her before, that he had never thought he would ever see her reflected in.
She was beautiful, purely and richly beautiful standing there in the faint moonlight, allowing her emotions to be bare and naked before him, allowing him to see her for what she was inside, not the mask that she worn so often and so tirelessly outside. Now he could understand why so many worshipped her as a true Goddess because she looked the part, her shining alabaster coat gleaming wonderfully in the faint light, tears caked on her face only adding to the effect that she was real, that she may look like a Goddess but that she had emotions, she had feelings like any other. The swirling, ethereal mane, though tangled and knotted with carelessness, was more beautiful then he had ever seen it because this all was real, this was not the false idol that so many praised. The gleam of suffering but also of a strength, a will to endure behind magenta eyes was enough to make his draconian blood pump faster and more heatedly, as he looked upon her and saw her for what she truly was, beautiful on the outside and beautifully broken on the inside, the truth and the lack of trying to smother and hide her emotions only adding to the over all effect that right now, in front of him stood a creature that was hurting, constantly hurting but constantly loved, constantly cherished even if she didn't want. She was absolute, authentic and corporeal.
Perhaps it had been the stress and the afflictions of the last few hours, of the last few days that had made Spike's mind wander to such peculiar places, to such strange areas that he had never dreamed he would venture into in a million years but now he was here, now he saw her truly and purely and he couldn't look away. And apparently, neither could she for she kept up the stare of longing souls with him, her eyes clashing with his in a battle in which he struggled to determine what the winner would achieve, what the goal truly was.
And then, quite suddenly and much to the surprise of the young dragon, he felt Celestia push herself forward and daintily, timidly, worriedly press her soft, tender, cracked lips to his in a sweet embrace.
And, once more to his surprise, he found himself kissing her back, refusing to let her leave his touch, his lips moulding around hers in a pitched battle, not of dominance or strength, but of gratitude and the deep feeling of protection that they had offered each other. Spike felt that little flicker, that faint tingle of hope once lost upon the death of his best friend and sister, burst back into life as he leaned into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer, her hooves draping against his shoulders. She was here, before him, in his eyes and she was magnificent, she was wonderful because she was pure, and true and real. She was beautiful on the outside and she was fantastic, broken but brilliant inside. She wasn't false and hiding behind a mask like she had done for so, so long, she wasn't concealing herself from him in any way and it was bliss, it was beauty, it was the sheer, unrivalled rush of love and longing that filled him from his heart to his head, his cheeks painted a glossy red colour. She knew his soul, she had seen it that night whilst they had talked and discussed and, in turn, he had seen her soul in all of its glory and bounty and it was the most captivating thing he had ever seen, better then glittering jewels, better then the whistle of wind whilst he was flying, better then Rarity had ever truly been because she was his and he was hers and they had been brought together through pain and sorrow, through suffering and agony and yet they had found this, they had found each other, both yearning for comfort and both giving it away freely.
Maybe, maybe this had been her ploy, her plan all along. Maybe she had not sent him out to make Celestia feel cared for or comforted. Perhaps, somewhere in her age-cracked but still wise mind, Twilight had seen what could bloom given the chance, she had seen two souls that would join together through grief, two souls born of the same terrible ailment that was eternal life and she had thrown them together so that, even in her time of passing, she could give her friends one, last, final gift. The last wish of Twilight Sparkle was not one spoken, it was not one whispered or wheezed or hissed. It was the thought, the idea that maybe, just maybe she could link two souls together through her demise, that maybe, just maybe they could make each other see that life was not over, that there was some much more to live through, that life would go on, would always go on.
Twilight Sparkle had given her final gift to them and it was magical.
Eventually, after what felt like mere seconds filled with bliss and warmth and compassion, the dragon and the princess pulled away from each other, the magenta eyes hidden behind closed eyelids as she breathed heavily, an actual smile painting her face, full of happiness and joy, not spoilt by sadness or misery. With a light sigh of relief and comfort, the thousand year old princess sunk her head into the thick, purple, warm, protective scales of the dragon, resting against him happily as he continued to draw breath into his lungs, eyes wide and pulse racing.
Spike turned his head to face out of the window again, to gaze into the stars and, for the faintest second, for the quickest moment he thought he saw a face take shape from the twinkling objects, a lavender sparkle glittering and gleaming in the night sky, a painfully familiar smile dotting the features of the sky before it was whisked away by the passing wind, falling into the ethereal sky.
And he knew that wherever she was now, wherever she rested, Twilight Sparkle was looking down upon them and smiling and, for the first time in days, Spike allowed his thoughts to turn towards the future and what it could bring to him, of the joys that could be obtained, of the life he could live.
Twilight Sparkle had reached out to him one final time and she had given him a gift that would span the ages.
Authors notes:
Well, there we go. I just finished a piece of writing that was over 10,000 in under two days. Man it feels good. Anyway, as I have stated this is my first time writing a sad story and it is also my first time writing a romance story so tell me what you think. Was it too boring? Too random? Too soon?
Read and enjoy, I hope. I may create an epilogue for this depending on the reviews I get.
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it sad to live for ever, it not really living if it never end
T-T here a pony for your hard work
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Very good writing
Dude, this is just beautiful. The emotions that are caused by this. I'm shedding man tears thanks to you!
this made me cry
this made me smile
this made me hate you
this make me love you
thank you for that sir
“Please don't go. I...I don't want to be alone tonight.”
I fucking lost it at that line...
It was beautiful, up until the shipping part. Personally i think it would have been better without the shipping but who knows maybe it's just my prejudice.
I was listening to the Halo 4 OST Wake up John and reading this, I had it on repeat. Fun fact, I didn't cry for my little dashie, or penstroke's famous Past Sins. The music and your writing however, made me cry like a little bitch. I had to walk away so I didn't off my self. You sir are an amazing writer.
1082762
What is the shipping part? I don´t know what this term stands for
1088550
The part where they become a couple.
1088550
you know, the part where they go lovey dovey and stuff
like that
1091457
1090393
Yep.. thanks both of you guys
and canon/non canon?
1091565
what do you mean by canon or non-canon?
1092012
I dont know, in some coments below some stories is sometimes something about non canon story... And I am wondering what is that?
1091565
I think we all now that the only Canon relation is SpikexRarity. Let's be honest guys, no childs cartoon in existance is going to support lesbian couples.
1092435
Oh yeah let the flame war about who is and who is not lesbian begin..
Twilight/Celestia ftw 
1092435
oh my god, reminds me of all those companies who support gays, and then the retards who boycott those companies
1092442
non-canon yeah i dont think spike and celestia is anywhere near canon, but who cares, twiluna is best pony, (the only one above your favorite for me
)
1094551
What does that have to do with anything?
1094551
Well yeah, twiluna is also great option... But LunaxDerpy looks promising
1094842
lesbians, gay rights etc.
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1096607
lol #icanteven
1097143
That's obvious. But where did that even came from? What does that have to do with the show or this fanfic?
I think I have something in my eyes...
So many Manly Tears T_T
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Bro, this history is amazing!.
Thanks for the tears
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This story made me cry, and cry, and cry. It also had love, Which made me cry more, Excellent work.
Good work
I like this crack shipping. I've only read stories with this ship twice, including this one and it makes me happy
It's awesome!!!!
I wish there were much more Spike+Celestia fanfics
What ever happened to the CMC?
Well... my uncle says it's unmanly for a guy to cry, I said to him.. Fuck you, you read this and try not to, he read it, then tried to punch me in the gut, yelling that it was sappy girl meteral.. But I saw them.. I saw the tears... I BLOODY WIN
Oh god a sad Spikelestia. *Whimpers* This was really good. The ending was so beautiful and true, and how sometimes when emotions run high things can blossom. Now the real question is, will it grow from than it's roots from grief? Anyway, know that I really enjoyed this, and I hope that somehow, a epilogue of their happiness is written somewhere.
Best wishes you brilliant writer you.
This was a very touching story. I really like it. The emotions are very raw. I too hope this is a pairing that lasts longer than their grief.
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W-why? Nonononono, they c-can't be d-d-dead! No! This is too much, it can't be! Please tell m-me that it's a lie!
so. many. feels. SO MANY OF THEM!!!!! take them!!! TAKE THEM ALL!!! i hate things that make me cry! but i love them because they are also SO GODAMN GOOD!!!! i really hope for that epilogue!!!
How does this only have 56 likes?
Such an amazing heart-wrenching story
I've only seen 2 Spikelestia stories, both are beyond amazing.
I'm not gonna cry, big tough guys like me don't cry...alright just this once but don't tell anyone
A terrific read, for your first time writing in those two genres you do excellent if I may say so myself.
Wasn't sure what to think when Prometheus Dark sent me the link to this, but now I totally understand why he stated "prepare your feels" Glad he told me about this story.
This is one of my favorite stories on FIMFiction. You did an amazing job. I have to admit, this one made me feel so much. Your writing style seems to work very well at helping the hard and heavy emotions across. Beautiful.
.............................................................................................- without words - ....................................................................................................
Truly beautiful. Brung a tear to my eye but made me smile as well. I imagine this is what Twilight truly wanted for Spike.
1580349
2 Spike X Celestia ?
What is it ?
Maybe its because Celestia is like a mom to Spike. Maybe that's because of that is the reason...
You hear that shattering sound? That's my heart breaking
This was beyond beautiful. I just so happened to be listening to stairway to heaven while reading the part where Spike was in the graveyard. The tears have been shed.
I would really love to see a follow up on this like for example 200 years later or something like that.
I utterly love this story.
So very, very good! I loved that buildup, it was wonderful.
No image macro sums up the feels in this fic
Spikelestia... not a shipping I ever thought I'd actually enjoy, but this was handled so well that I found myself thoroughly enjoying this.
I wish this had been paragraphed better, and sent through a editor, and this could have been featured by EQD. Your writing skill is brilliant. And this is old now, I'm interested to see how you're writing has developed since
Well...um...how do respond to this...
Basically how that went right there very good story.
During the 1st chapter I made it sadder by playing the organization 13 theme, then, the 2nd chapter go Ven's theme, and the end there got Sora's theme!
F,D,DF+FP RIGHT TO THE HEART.