Sometimes, you must think me a true sucker. A dragon, the most ancient of all races, pining for the love of a mortal unicorn. A little boy who needs a dictionary to spell thesaurus, and who only had the courage to confess a crush when it seemed gravity might not bend its law for the sake of love. Sometimes, you must think me a proper sap.
You of all ponykind know how intelligent I am. While I am still learning much of the pure knowledge that my guardian treasures, I try to have the common sense she often lacks. Yes, I am young, and prone to follies of youth such as petty jealousy over being replaced by a nocturnal bird. I still cringe at the memory of that stuffed rat and ketchup on the floor. Yes, I am immortal, at least from a common pony's perspective. I have walked among dragons almost as ancient as Equestria, and even the teenagers were usually older than dear little Ponyville. Why would I bother with a female who could only leave behind a horrible void when she passed on?
Because of the joy she gives me. The time I spend with her is not wasted in the pursuit of later reward. I find pleasure just being in her company. I do not trade my effort for her affection but add it toward her goals. When I labor for her, I am not a slave. She would do anything she asks me to, for I know she understands the cost and value of hard work, but I often can do it better and faster. Digging is a common example, fanning her at the spa a less common one. Even when the task is distasteful, her gratitude is enough to make it bearable. She never holds her affection over me, implying that I am unworthy but might be found acceptable if I contort myself to her whims, but is thankful for everything I do as I do it. Rarely she is stressed enough to snap at me, but she always apologizes shortly after. I have never worked for the promise of being found worthy, or toiled for scraps of attention like an unloved pet. That would sour with time, and could only end in pain. There are many things that bring me joy, so why do I prefer her company over most other pastimes?
Because she does not leach from me all other pleasure. There are times I cannot help her. Often Twilight has me employed in earning my room and board, usually by distracting her from a mathematical meltdown, or I simply need time to myself. She understands, never lets herself become upset over the trivial, and always carries herself as a lady. The value of sticking to my commitments is not lost on her, and she is always willing to help me when I am the one in need. I could wish that she used me as a dress-up doll less, but there are worse tortures that a boy can endure. Even then she only uses force and surprise to coerce me into frilly clothing. Rarely she begs, in that style she has perfected into an irrefusable demand, but she never threatens when she insists. When she kisses me, it is never to bend my will to hers, but always from pure gratitude and affection. Yes, she has a flair for the dramatic. She faints when she has misplaced a ribbon, wears a funeral shroud to mourn a dip in her career, and to describe her workroom as a disaster zone is like saying your sun is a tiny bit warm. I wish I could have seen her overreaction to the humble accommodation you offered her at the castle, I still giggle each time I read of it. She is strong on her own, and downright crazy. I adore that, for such is the madness of an artist. Perhaps I am just immunized thanks to my guardian's rolling insanity, but I find something attractive in a mare who throws herself so completely into her work. There are many artists I enjoy the company of, a certain disk jockey springs to mind, but I prefer this fashionista over all others because I have glimpsed her soul.
In recent memory, more recent than I prefer to remember, I nearly destroyed Ponyville. I wrote you a full report in response to your inquiry for more details than I provided in my first statement, and am very grateful that you covered the reconstruction costs. I was completely truthful in both scrolls, but time has allowed me to more objectively view those events. They are directly related to this matter. Shortly before my birthday, she visited the library in search of a book on old fashions. You know the rest, so I will not waste time with a chronology of events, nor will I spare myself by trying to make up an excuse. I would have eaten something beautiful, which was fully my right, but instead she turned it into something that will last much longer than a full belly. Then she saved me from destroying the town, and was too generous to take credit. She convinced all of us that I was really the one who cut down my own selfishness, and so was a hero for stopping the monster. Yes, I was the one who turned back from the path of greed, but without her I would have continued the rampage until you inevitably arrived. She took a beautiful gemstone that I saw only as food, and crafted it into an anchor. Then she cast away the spotlight so I would not be condemned by the entire town as a monster and given my just punishment. After she was through with her performance, I was the hero for overcoming the wretchedness of a dragon's nature. I had rejected a mind-eating greed, and with that noble act saved the town! That is her soul. She covered for my horrible mistake, and without her I would have been lost.
Which leads to my greatest point. She gives. It is her nature to give, be it charity from her boutique to ponies in need or several days to tail a bumbling baby dragon on his "quest of self-discovery". She makes nests for little birds every year, and puts up with a cat that seems eternally enthusiastic to test the thickness of my scales. Because she gives so much of herself, she understands the value of something when it is given to her, even such a small thing as a dragon's time. Whenever I give her my labor, she is grateful. She never expects it of me, or demands that I obey her to prove my love, but charms from me my greatest effort. That is my payment, and it is rendered as services are performed. The importance of these traits is such that I have listed them, rather than only stating that she is the Element of Generosity and expecting that to be reason enough. It is because of these traits she bears that Element, not the other way around. I love her because she is worthy, in spite of her flaws not in ignorance of them, and that love is its own reward. It fills me with strength, it lifts my feet off the ground, and it drives me to excel in everything I do. This is the capstone to my explanation, though there is one point that must be added atop like a cherry-red ruby.
She is beautiful. I saved this for last, though it was the first attribute to catch my attention. Beauty of the body is often temporary, and yet it matters so greatly to all living things. Yes, my affection began as a crush on somepony attractive. It survived because her heart, her mind, were even more beautiful. She says kind words about others' work when I can only think rotten ones, and never lowers herself to crudeness. If she were not beautiful I believe I could care for her similarly, but that beauty is entrenched in her personality. Age could wither her body, but I have seen enough old ponies to know that the spark of inner beauty never truly fades from those who carry themselves well. On the other claw, I do not lie to myself about the dangers of her duty to Equestria. Would she still be an outgoing artist if one of the Element Bearers' adventures cost her more than her tail? I do not know. But I know no scar could destroy the way I care for her. I would forever see the mare I first met in the Town Hall, and forever breathe righteous vengeance against whatever deprived the world of her beauty. That is not one of the pillars of this letter, merely a decorative gemstone atop a strong stonework.
This is my testimony. I love her almost as a hobby. If she ever welcomes further advances I will not see it as a race completed, a victory won, but as another lap to make. Love is a battle fought every day, though I know little of battle aside from those in books and one brief tussle against Diamond Dogs. If I do not show her love because I know I will outlive her, why should I do anything? I cannot measure my life by how long I live, or how long the things I invest in last, but rather how well I have lived. If I am the measurement, then nothing is worth my time, and I exist only to please myself and sleep. I am lazy, a bit of a sluggard about getting out of bed, but I know that time is precious. I will love her in the time she has, for it gives me strength and she earns my affection. Thinking deeply about these things scares me, I know you understand why. It does not feel right that a boy should have to think these things about those he cares for. That is part of the reason this letter has been so long in coming. I know that turning a blind eye to the future only makes it worse. One must make preparations, and then enjoy the moments as they pass. I am a continual firsthand witness to what stressing out over things that cannot be changed does to the mind. Just as I cannot blind myself to the future, I will not let it consume me. My heart only lets me conclude that she must be the measuring line of my life, not I. Selflessness is a key part of generosity, and a strong bulwark against greed. It also brings me to the final purpose of this letter.
The night of the Grand Galloping Gala was one of the worst of my life, though it ended well. I was left alone by those I counted as friends, and before leaving I saw the mare I cared for hunting your nephew's hoof for matrimony. I tried to convince myself that I wanted her to be happy, even if that meant losing her, and finally succeeded. I had a right to seek what made me happy, but understood that I could not force her to be with me when her heart belonged to another. If I sabotaged her evening with the Prince, I would never be able to forgive myself. So, after seeing there was no place for me at your side, and barely enough for Twilight, I left. It was not altruism, but self-defense. If I had stayed, I would have done something foolish in the name of making the "best night ever" a reality.
While I grew up in Canterlot, I remember you kept me away from him, so I knew little of the Prince save that he was handsome. Even when the others told me of Blueblood's behavior, I could not believe she endured so much. She never says a word about him, which speaks volumes. I wish I was of noble birth, for I would treasure her as he never could. I would treat her as a lady of artistry and enterprise who stooped down to be yoked with a most undeserving royal, but I am no prince. I do not know who my true parents are, but I know where my heart calls home. If there was some regal flair in my ancestry, it might strengthen my conviction that I am right for her. All I have to give her is a love that never dies. I will remember her, for that will give me strength, and I will mourn her, for she is worthy of a dragon's tears. Perhaps she will be waiting in the skies. I return to these troubling thoughts to make clear that I understand what this will one day mean for me. My heart tells me that love is a worthy cause. In support of this case, I will cite supporting evidence. A poet I know you will be familiar with, who mourned the passing of a dear friend:
"I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all."
If I do not love because I fear mourning, what am I but a lump of rock wrapped in a blanket?
I have spent considerable time thinking and writing these things because I know how unhealthy misunderstood affection can be. I did not wish to grieve you with the impression that I had fallen head-over-tail into an immature fondness for one of the element bearers, then tried to pursue her as I grew older without comprehending what love requires to transcend mere affection. I care for her, but it is a healthy care, and while Rarity might exploit me she always makes it worth my time. It is because I have time, oceans of it, that I am able to have this love for her. I write at length on this occasion because I seek your authorization, not merely your acceptance. I am just a boy, but I know how valuable the element bearers are to Equestria as a whole. These six ponies have saved the world almost as many times as I have talons. This is not a coincidence. You sent my guardian and I here to serve a purpose, not just to learn life lessons. The furthest thing from my mind is jeopardizing your plans with my greed.
In Service,
-Spike
Quotation from In Memoriam A. H. H., Alfred Tennyson
Pretty good. More chapters please.
This is fantastic, and masterfully crafted. You touch on so many important things and show Spike's character above all else, while also showing Rarity's.
This is lovely~
This... is .... denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/rsz/mlfw8433_small.jpg
As I was reading this denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/thumb/mlfw8307.gif became this denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw8323-cutiemark_crusaders_being_cute_by_iks83-d4p6jbs_486x270.gif
That was a masterpiece of Sparity fanfiction- Fav'd, Thumbed, Tracked and hoping for more
(Sorry for all the gifs )
Holy crap, this was way more than I expected.
Please, for the love of Celestia, keep going...
Do carry on good fellow, do carry on....
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Beautiful. I have no trouble believing that canon Spike is almost intelligent enough to write something like this. At the very least, he would agree with every word.
So true. Spike expects nothing from Rarity; he simply basks in her company. She ranted about his stench and used him as a pincushion, yet he remained completely infatuated with her on both occasions. I hope you had fun writing this little analyzation of his relationship to her, because I sure enjoyed reading it.
I request, Neigh! Demand! more chapters to this magnificent fic
This is most believable. So are we going to see Celestia's response?
I really like this. Far too often I see people try and write off Spike's helping Rarity as being solely part of his attraction to her. Now, its definitely part of it, but I think that even if she was dating someone Spike would help her out, because he likes helping her. I also enjoyed that you made Spike realize the difference in his lifespan, that always gets me when people write him as barely educated. Though I will say that he threw out a lot of large words after he mentions needing a dictionary to spell thesaurus.
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That's exactly what I was aiming for. The reader should think "Wow, this is pretty deep for a little dragon." Then, context hopefully kicks in. This is someone who has been raised in libraries or halls of learning nearly his entire life. According to Faust, Celestia took care of him until Twilight was ready for the full responsibility of a baby dragon. That means he was raised by an immortal Princess with the weight of an entire nation on her back, then used as a card-catalog by a bibliomaniac. Plus, he's a dragon. Not a baby human, or even a filly like the CMC, he's one of a race far more ancient than ponies can often comprehend. One deciding to nap in Equestria for a hundred years and snore out smoke is viewed as a natural disaster, not an act of war. They could be compared to moving volcanoes that eat almost anything. Take one of those, expect him from an early age to be cognizant and pursue knowledge, and factor in that he's really just a few years younger than Twilight since she was a filly when she hatched him. Then, let him fall in love. Then, let reality set in, the knowledge that he's immortal and anyone he cares about will probably amount to couple grains in his personal hourglass.
He's got two options. One, angst about "If I can live forever, what do I truly live for", wah-wah, eyeliner and poetry. Two, sober up, realize that he's not the measuring stick of the world, and figure out how to make the most of what little time he has with the ones he cares about. That's the context for him writing this letter to the Princess who raises the sun every day. This is not a little note at the end of one of the Mane Six's scrolls, but something that actually represents his own feelings and thoughts. So, he's gonna polish up his phrases, get out the reference texts, and do a great job because it's not a report she's expecting from him. It's something he wants her to read and agree with him on, because there's two little questions he wants her to answer. The entire theme of the letter is that he's intellectually able to comprehend these concepts, even though he admits they turn his stomach to think about, and so he's written it like a big boy. Hope that adds to your immersion!
I'm glad you liked it! Positive comments that provide good criticism are always awesome.
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Wow. That made my day. You spent a couple minutes duct-taping together some pretty pictures! Some of them even move! Seriously, thank you. I spent about a week and a half, probably averaging 2-3 hours a day, to write this and the blueprint for the next chapter based on a few musings. You, and all the other kind comments, mean something very special. They mean that I touched someone's heart enough for them to spend a couple minutes actually putting that feeling into words or pictures of ponies. All the favorites, all the likes, and all the other ways this site offers for an audience to interact with an author are really revolutionary, and I appreciate everyone who uses them. There's just something about a few nice words that means more than any number, no matter what it represents.
Words are individually yours. As an individual, I thank all you one-of-a-kind people who like this story enough to show it in some way. No matter how small, it means a great deal.
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Thanks! One thing I love about this community, it's full of smart people. People who think about things and try to make educated guesses about what's coming next, even if it's just a gut instinct.
I was hoping for maybe ten or so views and a thumbs up, given the reception of my last story. I still can't quite get my head around the fact that over two hundred folks have had a look at this, and over thirty left a thumbs up. That's awesome. I thank all of you.
With that said, I originally designed this story as a simple letter from Spike to Celestia. As I was writing, I felt that there were a few things that could be gained from her perspective on his feelings. So, I left myself the option for a second chapter. The main impact of the story is in the first chapter with Spike writing out his feelings, hopefully convincing the reader that he's thought about this long and hard, and showing that he's not destined for a heartbreak.
Out of respect for you, my audience, the next chapter will be up before the heat-death of the universe. I will make this story priority-one, because I know exactly what it feels like when an author writes something, promises more, and goes waltzing off on a completely different tangent about how wonderful it would be if somehow John suddenly fell into Equestria while being bullied by Megatron who was actually Chrysalis disguised as a Transformer but then magically PONIES EVERYWHERE and then John was a Zombie.
I just don't want to get everyone's expectations cranked up and then have the next chapter be a letdown. This story's strength is in its size, a small story with a powerful message is better than a longer tale with a diluted one.
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Nice author = instant watch. I look forward to future stories. :3
A rare, deep & insightful look into Spike. I love it!
amazing!
THE SYMPTOM OF THE UNIVERSE IS WRITTEN IN YOUR EYES!!!
*ahem*
Sorry...
1641704 >>>One, angst about "If I can live forever, what do I truly live for", wah-wah, eyeliner and poetry.>>>
Eyeliner and bad poetry, you mean.
A truly wise immortal knows that the universe itself moves on without despair of all that expires in the expanse of its endurance.
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*ahem*
SEVENTH NIGHT THE UNICORN IS WAITING IN THE SKIES!
I kid you not, that song was part of the inspiration for this story. While it was still in concept stage, I would cruise around in BrĂ¼tal Legend listening to the Mouth of Metal belt out Symptom of the Universe and a ton of other songs. Somehow, I got a dragon's love letter out of it.
Thanks for reading, and noticing the little details! I slipped another musical reference in a later chapter, something off the album Eliminator.
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Personally, I feel that the first two chapters of this story are the best. I hope you're enjoying the ride, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Holy butts. This is just. Wow. I'm usually not too big on Spike heavy fictions, but this. this. THIS. this is just... there are no words.
bravo. bravo
Yes! Spike being this thoughtful is awesome and it doesn't seem completely unlike him. It's kinda bittersweet to read though, but really well done. Good job.
Congratulations. This story has good enough grammar (in the first 500 words) to be added to the Good Grammar Directory, a comprehensive directory of grammatically correct stories on FIMFiction.net.
I swear some of this is legit poetry. Very well worded, if nothing else.
It should be "my guardian and me." They are the object.
Other than that, this was really interesting. I'm going to keep reading now.
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I did some research, and you are absolutely correct. Thanks for noticing that, I think the "my guardian" part threw off my own grammar checking. I'm tempted to leave the sentence as it stands, though! This is supposed to be a in-universe letter from one character to another, and although I did not intend it, that little slip does seem like a mistake Spike might make. If I had made that mistake as part of narration, I would certainly correct it. What do you think, does it add to or distract from the overall context of the letter? Do you think Spike would have read and re-read it until he found even that little error, or might it have slipped through his young claws?
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As the above example shows, I'm far from a master wordsmith! Thanks for the feedback, and I hope you enjoyed the story.
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That's exactly what I was aiming for. I wanted this story to feel like it "just might be" canon, while still taking a mature view of love and romance. Hearing that you liked it and felt the same way tells me I'm hitting my target!
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I hope the rest of the story is to your satisfaction as well. I've long said that the first two chapters are the best, so I hope that the others are not a disappointment. Your kind words mean a lot to me, an author's reward is to know his work is loved!
This feels like it was written by V.
Hopefully Spike doesn't have a Vendetta against Blueblood.
(I didn't intend on lining up the V's. I swear. (The third one was kinda on purpose.))