Friðr's Guardian

by -Watcher-

Chapter 4 - Discussion of Matters

Considering the circumstances, Spike could honestly say this wasn’t the worst night he’d had. Though that was sad in its own right, it proved to be an uplifting factoid he could frequently call upon for amusement.

He was disturbed, yes, but confusion was at the forefront of his mind. The visitor hadn’t hurt him, not really. His mind was burned by the things shown, but no physical pain had lingered when the visions were taken from his memories.

Spike couldn’t remember them exactly. Rather, they were muddled as if they were still there but under a thick fog within his brain.

Still, if he tried a little, he could bring the images inside to a sharper focus. He found that out on the way to Twilight’s study and opted to restrain from focusing on the images. From what he could tell, they weren’t happy to say the least.

Once he and Twilight reached the study, Spike took a moment to bask in the intricate workings of the large room. It resembled the one Twilight had when she was headmare of the School of Friendship, but much taller and with more windows, which spanned the entire upper portion of the circular chamber.

Said windows were stained with numerous colors, cascading down even in the soft moonlight.

At least three-quarters of the walls were dominated by enormous bookcases made of dragonbirch with grooves painstakingly carved into them. The grooves bore a crystalline filling, giving-off a pale white glow that made the room much cooler in color, even with mage fire lanterns burning above.

The wall not covered by the bookcases usually had a rather impressive painting of Twilight, Celestia, and Luna, all of whom smiled and regarded the viewer with kindly expressions. Unfortunately, said painting had been covered with a thin sheet of fabric, obscuring it from view.

Spike gave a subdued sigh and moved on from the painting, careful to not catch Twilight’s attention.

The carpet that covered the entire floor was of a thick, coiled fabric that Spike did not know the name of. However, he appreciated the intricate swirls and etchings pressed into it. At the center, the lines of color and coils wrapped together and formed a gilded shield with Twilight’s cutie mark square in the middle.

The room was absolutely stunning, even now that Spike had seen it numerous times. Perhaps that was because Rarity had helped with the design.

Another somber sigh, another memory pushed away for later.

Despite the emotion charged into the room, Spike still felt as though it was his favorite. He reveled in the familiarity and security it provided, and the drake often found himself in here with Twilight despite him having his own personal study in the tower.

It helped that his closest and oldest friend frequently had moments of excitement that could, if generous, be called positive breakdowns. At worst, they could be called Informationally Induced Panic Pacing Attacks. The latter is a name given by the mare herself, and this was totally an Informationally Induced Panic Pacing Attack moment. Otherwise known as “Twilighting” by many of the castle’s staff, though no pony dared to mention this to Twilight herself.

Even as he thought all of this, Twilight flew around her personal study, tossing book after book and page after page of notes and diagrams. In the ten or fifteen minutes he’d been standing there admiring, reminiscing, and enjoying the room, Spike didn’t hear Twilight complete a single thought, nor had she let him get a single word in.

One moment of “Spike, you need to see this!” quickly became “where in the world did I put my pen?” and then that spiraled into “hang on, what’s this doing here. This shouldn’t be here.”

In other words, she was being normal ole’ Twilight again. It almost succeeded in completely melting away Spike’s despondent-tuned aura, but it did plaster a smile on his face.

She hasn’t been this way in months. Whatever she found, it must be important, Spike thought.

Despite the easing of his mood, Spike fought to keep his eyes open.

The earlier visit proved to have taken a toll on him mentally as well as emotionally. It felt as though he had lived a thousand lifetimes in the span of seconds, and even the thought drained him of his remaining energy. Thankfully, snippets of the night’s events flashed behind his closed eyelids, keeping him awake easily enough.

Most of the pages flung by Twilight contained nothing Spike could decipher. Not all of this was due to his general lack of knowledge on theoretical physics and magics. Most of the confusion was due to Twilight’s horrid hornwriting—a fact that Twilight still denied to this day.

Tentatively, Spike approached the roaring whirlwind of movement at the center of the room. He cleared his throat as politely as he could.

“Um, Twilight? Still just, uh, waiting here, you know. We were supposed to talk about something, remember?”

Suddenly, the blur of lavender feathers and magic came to a halt at the sound of someone else in the room. The alicorn turned around slowly, sporting a noticeable blush that gently graced both cheeks.

“Oh … right. How long have you been standing there … watching?” Twilight asked sheepishly, not yet making eye contact with the dragon on the other side of her desk.

Grinning, Spike didn’t miss a beat.

“Let me see here … about 15 minutes, so not bad this time,” Spike said smugly, gesturing to a vacant left wrist. “I think you’re actually improving, Twilight!”

The dragon’s almost genuine encouragement earned him a cold glare, but that only made his grin promote to a mischievous smile.

Spike one, Sparkle zero.

“Riiiihgt,” Twilight began, motioning Spike to sit in the seat in front have the desk. “Isn’t it a little late at night for sarcasm?”

“Isn’t it a little late a night for a Twilighting Session?”

A raised eyebrow, another battle one.

Spike two, Sparkle zero. You’re losing your flare, Twilight, Spike thought.

“Point taken, Spike,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes. “Since it is rather late, how about we move from the snark to the matter at hoof.” Twilight relaxed noticeably, her face returning to genuine excitement. She smiled warmly at her companion, who nodded in agreement.

“Would you like to start, Spike? You seem a bit, what’s the word … off tonight. Did something happen?”

Spike’s smugness melted away in an instance, replaced by constricted pupils and a sudden nervousness that he couldn’t explain. He stumbled with his words, which didn’t help ease Twilight’s clearly growing concern.

“Oh, no no you go first, Twilight. I, uhm … I was just being silly is all. Nothing to worry about I don’t think. You should start,” he finally managed to get out, coughing nervously and flashing a too-toothy grin to boot.

Aaaand she’s not convinced. Why am I surprised?

“Spike,” she began, an expression of guilt sticking to her muzzle, “I know that today didn’t start well, for either of us. You already had a bit much on your plate, and I knew that.” She paused for a moment before clearing her throat and continuing, clearly concealing a slight waver in her voice.

“Despite that, I took out my frustration, regret, guild, anger and …” Another pause broke the conversation, but Spike just sat there, patiently waiting for his friend to continue. It was best to let her get this out, even if Spike never blamed her. Ever.

Swallowing a little, Twilight continued.

“I just don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate all you do for me, Spike. I know I can be, well, me sometimes. No pony has ever stuck with me like you have, and I know that isn’t easy.” Twilight looked up towards Spike finally, a sad smile crossing her expression, but it was somewhat tainted by the pain in her violet eyes.

She sniffed a little before once more continuing.

“With everything that has happened, I shouldn’t have put so much pressure and just everything on you. You may be my number one assistant still, but you are a friend before anything else, Spike.” She fidgeted in her seat, letting it turn to the left and right slightly. “I’m sorry that I lose sight of that far too often. I promise to be better, and I hope that you can forgive me.”

Silence followed after Twilight stopped talking. It wasn’t an awkward, nervous silence anymore, not to Spike.

Spike met Twilight’s tired, pained eyes with his own hope-filled ones. He smiled warmly, bringing his arms up to cross on his chest.

“Thank you, Twilight. That means … a lot. You don’t have a thing to worry about, I promise,” he said tenderly. He also realized that was not quite true—they both had some issues to worry about now.

Truth be told, he had honestly been so preoccupied with the voice, his duties, and covering for Twilight that he hadn’t even thought about that morning since it happened. However, since the real reason was a bit more disturbing, he thought better of letting that slip for now.

Sensing the awkwardness returning, Twilight rocked in her chair a little, earning a smirk from Spike.

Using her magic to summon a tissue to dab her eyes, Twilight smiled a little wider than before.

“Well, I’m glad that went better than I expected,” she said as she chuckled a little nervously, sniffling as she did so. After Spike rolled his eyes in an understanding gesture, she continued. “Now that we settled that quicker than I had planned, how about you tell me what is on your mind? I can tell something is troubling you, even factoring in this morning’s … events.” Twilight said that last word tentatively, as if she still feared she was walking on thin ice.

“Right, uhm … after you left this morning,” Spike stepped over the word in his head, hoping to soften the blow it could be to Twilight, “Something strange happened—”

As he finished, Twilight’s eyes went a little wider, her smile slipping a little as well, concern working its way into a more prominent role in her expression.

“Did something happen with Luna? Is she okay? No pony said anything to me about it. Spike, is she okay?” Twilight spat out rapidly, each question sending her a little closer to a panic attack.

Thankfully, Spike was used to these moments, and as such he didn’t let her get much farther up on her pedestal of apprehension.

“No, Twilight, she’s fine. Nothing bad happened with her. As far as I know, she was still sleeping when I left,” he said as he reassuringly gestured his friend down from the edge using his hands.

Even though she was certainly getting better, Spike knew she had a while to go before her anxiety was within the realm of “normal.”

Seeming to trust his word, Twilight nodded slowly, color returning to her ashen features. She sat down and moved a hoof in rhythm with her steady breathes. Once he allowed his friend ample time to calm, Spike continued his side of the discussion.

“So, yes, something strange happened, but it happened with me. After you left, the room felt like it shifted.” This drew a perplexed look from Twilight, but he continued. “It was like it phased from being all in my head to being all real and back again. A voice reached out to me, Twilight. A voice that shouldn’t have been there.”

Spike’s voice had grown serious by now, and the same could be said with his expression. Twilight understood this was not a joking matter, but she was still confused as to why it was so serious.

The room felt cold, but only Twilight seemed to notice. She shivered slightly.

The dragon paused, seeming to mull over what he should say next and how he should say it. After a moment, he settled on something.

“Twilight … it asked me to tell her. To tell her to find them in a place with no green and flanked by pillars of ice. I think whatever was speaking was referring to you, Twilight,” he said finally. All tenderness had left his face, replaced with an intensity that made Twilight nervous. “Before you found me tonight, something visited me. I think it was the same being who spoke to me this morning, but tonight it was urgent. It did not plead, Twilight. It was much more aggressive …”

Spike stopped suddenly. He looked to the ground with a far-off look in his pointed eyes. He looked … sad?

Twilight was now beyond worried, her ears pressed against her head as she looked to Spike. “Spike, are you okay? What happened?” She sat up a little, her hooves pressing onto the desk as she leaned in to listen to Spike.

The drake didn’t answer right away. As she spoke, his eyes lifted to refocus on her, as if he had forgotten her.

“It showed me things, Twilight. Horrible … horrible things,” Spike whispered as his voice trembled as a hoarseness worked its way in.

His eyes bore years that weren’t his, suffering that he shouldn’t have. Twilight saw all of this, and her worry became panic and resentment towards whatever did this.

“It repeated what it had said, but the voice was different,” he continued. “It sounded angry and desperate and … scared, Twilight. I know it wants you to find them, but it never said where explicitly.” Spike paused to look to Twilight, who nodded for him to continue. “I don’t know what it is or what it showed me, but I have a feeling it wasn’t just an invitation.” He was shaking now, if only slightly. It was still noticeable.

The sudden amount of talking left Spike’s throat dry and tired. Somehow, his entire body just felt exhausted, like the shadow was pressing more and more weight with each second that went by.

Twilight sat in front of her friend, thinking. Spike sat as well, trying not to completely fall into whatever the shadow wanted him to fall into if there was something to fall into. They remained that way for some time, neither knowing what to say.

Finally, Twilight reached out to touch Spike’s hand as she put on a brave face.

“Hey, hey,” she cooed as she tried to comfort the disturbed dragon, “Everything is fine, I promise. Whatever it was, I’m sure we can figure out what we need to do. It’s gone, and I’m here. Nothing bad is going to happen,” she said, smiling as bright as she could.

The mask of terror cracked a little, and Spike let a faint grin cross his lips. “Of course, of course, Twilight. Just a little rattled is all. I’m sure we’ll figure things out.” His thoughts betrayed his words.

Truth was, Spike was more than worried for his friend. The shadow seemed to despise her for some reason. Either way, the weight on his chest lifted slightly as Twilight spoke, and that’s all that mattered right now.

“Good,” Twilight began, smiling, “Then I believe I have some good news for once.”

Shocked, Spike looked at Twilight with poorly hidden suspicion. “What do you mean?”

Twilight grinned, and Spike regretted the question immediately.

“Well, during my time in the library, I came across some mentions of a few legends that I then devised a few theories from. It seems that this being that spoke to you has confirmed those theories, though I’m not sure I like the way said being did so.”

Spike barely followed what she meant. What legends? What theories? But he was too tired to ask, so he just let Twilight continue.

“I believe I may have found something that can actually help Luna, Spike. I was apprehensive at first, but this only confirms that there may be some truth to a particular story I found.”

Spike was still confused. And tired. Mostly tired.

“Twilight … I don’t follow,” Spike said as he shook his head in an attempt to remain awake.

“That’s fine. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, Spike. Go get some rest, please. It looks like you need it.”

“You need it too, Twilight. I don’t think you wanna here another lecture from me about sleeping habits. I can go get the slideshow if you want. I’m never too tired to prove you wrong.”

Twilight bristled slightly at that but kept her composure … mostly.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, honest,” she said, wearing her most honest-looking smile. It didn’t really work, but Spike didn’t seem interested in pursuing it further.

“If you say so, Twilight. Just please don’t overdo yourself tonight. You still need to be a princess, you know.”

Twilight nodded, which pleased Spike enough.

As the dragon rose to leave, Twilight thought of something else.

“Hey, Spike?” she called as he reached the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“Goodnight and sweet dreams.”

Spike yawned widely in return. “You too, Twilight.”

And with that, Twilight watched as the door closed quietly, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She frowned as her brow furrowed in concentration.

She knew that Spike hadn’t told her everything, but pushing it tonight was most likely not a healthy option for him. He looked horrible, even considering how late it was. She had to know what had seen, what he had heard. I may not be entirely related to what she was looking for, but it would give her an idea of what she would be up against since the thing that spoke to Spike didn’t seem the friendliest.

An idea sprang into her head, followed by guilt. She would not feel good about doing what she was going to do, but it had to be done. Hopefully, she remembered the spell correctly.

It seems her night was far from over.

---

In a place that was and was not, a presence stirred from its hibernation. The message was sent, and the clock was now ticking. Though, it had always been ticking.

As it was said to be, pieces were falling into place, and hands were being dealt. She would find what she searched for, but not in the way she searched for it.

Magical seals weakened, bonds broken, and tethers severed.

The Decision was nigh, and she was on her way to making it, though she did not know. She would hear and seen soon enough.

The Guardian watched from the space between spaces, and his drones had done what needed to be done.

He was ready.

She was not.

Author's Note:

Look at that, I actually did what I said I'd do and updated pretty quickly. Good on me.

Enjoy!

Comments

[Meowofy]

Nice! Sorry I couldn’t leave a longer comment, I’m a bit preoccupied, but I really like this chapter and I can’t wait for more!

[-Watcher-]

10370323
The fact you're commenting so often and with such encouragement is amazing in its own right. Don't feel obligated to continue if you don't want to. I just appreciate your positive thoughts

[-Watcher-]

10373974
I'd like to say that is a good thing, but if this made you feel good, I'd be worried.