After getting rejected by Rarity, Spike finds an escape from his broken heart at a miniature railway.
It had to happen eventually. After finally confessing his long-standing crush on Rarity, Spike was inevitably rejected. With Twilight away, he had every intention of hiding himself away in the castle to brood, until a surprise visit from Ocellus offers him an alternative.
Smoulder is part of the Ponyville Miniature Railway Club, and could use an extra pair of claws to help out with locomotive maintenance. What this means for Spike's relationship woes, however, remains to be seen.
This story is a spin-off from one of my other stories, Transitioning Love. That story isn't required to understand this tale, but it will help to explain some later details.
Home, sweet home. Spike let out a long, defeated sigh, slamming the door shut behind him. Maintaining a veneer of public contentment had been costly, and now all he wanted to do was curl up with a bucket of gems and hibernate. Yes, he still had chores to do in Twilight’s absence—he was her number-one assistant, after all—but after the week he’d had, it was just another weight chained to his already sunken heart.
I should’ve seen this coming, he berated himself. Rarity’s a pony who’s twice your age. Why would she ever date you?
The fact that she’d let him down gently did little to lessen the pain. If anything, he felt more pathetic. Despite his age, he was still seen as a baby dragon, clinging to a childish crush.
He was still Rarity’s little ‘Spikey Wikey’, a nickname which carried far worse implications in hindsight.
How could she lead me along like that? How long had she known about my crush? I should’ve known she was lying. I should’ve—
Spike stopped on the stairs. His fists were clenched so hard, they were starting to hurt, though if he preferred this pain to heartache, he wasn’t sure. Heading to the bathroom, he leant over the sink and splashed cold water over his face.
Looking in the mirror, the face that looked back was a deep scowl. What was he becoming? He didn’t hate Rarity. She was well within her right to reject his advances, and it wasn’t like they’d never speak again.
It helped little. Sweet Celestia, I’m pathetic. Perhaps this was his penance to dream of a romance with an adult, now drowning in self-hatred because of it.
No sooner had he dried his face, than the castle’s doorbell rang. Grumbling, he begrudgingly made his way back downstairs. He wasn’t expecting any visitors today, nor had Twilight scheduled any meetings for him to fill in for. Why would anyone want to see him, in his current state?
Pulling open the heavy front door a crack, he found himself looking into the solid red eyes of Ocellus.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Hey, Spike,” Ocellus replied cheerfully, despite Spike’s standoffish tone. “Mind if I come in?”
“Why? Do you need something?”
Ocellus blinked, but her smile didn’t waver. “I have a letter from Twilight to give you, but I also wanted to talk.”
Spike frowned and grimaced. Just what he needed, more unfinished business from Twilight to deal with. Reluctantly, he opened the door further and gestured for Ocellus to come in. As she did so, her gaze wandered across the castle’s crystal interior
“Wow,” she whistled. “This castle’s even prettier on the inside. You get to live here every day, right? I’m so jealous.”
“It’s not that special,” Spike’s reply was dreary. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Um, I was hoping we could sit down somewhere first. After I gave you the letter, that is… I should probably do that now, shouldn’t I?”
To that, Spike rolled his eyes and held out his claw. “Follow me.”
Opening her wing case, Ocellus reached inside and handed it to him. “There’s no tea,” Spike said as they entered the guest library. Slumping backwards onto one of the beanbags, he crossed his arms. “Twilight finished them before she left.”
“That’s okay. There’s plenty in the school dorms’ kitchen. Want me to fetch some while you read the letter?”
“No. I mean, no, thank you,” he gestured apologetically while correcting his unintended bluntness towards her.
Great job, Spike. You’re already knocking it out of the park with your hospitality.
Glancing at the envelope, he wondered why Twilight had to do this mission alone. Once upon a time, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere without him at her side, but that was before Celestia and Luna decided to retire. Though on paper he was still her number one assistant, in practice he felt like a consolation prize. She could tell him otherwise until she was blue in the face, it didn’t make his negative feelings any easier to deal with.
“Dear Spike,” he read. “I heard about what happened between you and Rarity. I’m sorry it had to end like this, but I’m glad you two are still friends.”
Friends. Ha! What a joke. Too late did he realise he’d snorted aloud. Briefly looking up, he saw Ocellus had cocked her brow, but otherwise said nothing.
“I know you must be hurting right now. Truth be told, I do regret leaving you behind instead of bringing you with me to Griffonstone, but I promise I’ll make this up to you as soon as I get home.
“For now, you can forget about any assistant duties. You deserve a break. Take some time off and focus on recovering for however long you need. I’m sure Rarity and the other girls will help to keep everything else in order.
“You will always be my number one assistant, Spike, and the best dragon a pony could ask for as a little brother. Your physical and mental health is part of my Princess’ responsibilities, so please, take care of yourself, and I’ll see you soon.
“Love, Twilight.”
Spike dropped the letter. Twilight had said that going to Griffonstone alone was crucial, yet somehow she also regretted not taking him. It made no sense. It was just another buck to the gut that added to the volatile thundercloud of emotions hovering over him.
“Spike?” Ocellus asked. “Are you okay?”
Looking down at his claws, he realised his vision was blurry – not to mention the wetness of his cheeks. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry over Rarity. No matter what others thought of him, he wasn't a baby anymore. He was a tough dragon; he could handle this, he…
…was hurting. He could lie to himself all he liked, but the truth would be unchanging.
“I’m sorry,” Spike said, choking back the sobs. “I’m… not doing so great.”
Ocellus nodded. “I’ve heard.”
“You have?” Not content to simply leave his heart broken and his thoughts in tatters, now fate had decided to throw the curveball of circulating rumours at him. He was starting to feel like a circus clown. “I-It’s not what you—”
“Spike, relax. I’m not judging you. I’ve had crushes on other creatures before. Well, mostly changelings, but my point stands. I promise, no one cares that you had a crush on Rarity, least of all me.”
Sniffling, Spike flipped over and buried his reddened face in the beanbag. “Please, just go. I want to be alone right now. It’s what I deserve.”
Standing up, Ocellus placed a hoof on his shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll happily oblige. But could you hear me out, first?”
“Fine.”
“I was rejected recently, too.”
“…what?”
Dragging her beanbag next to Spike’s, Ocellus sat back down and clopped her forehooves together. “I don’t talk about my personal life much, and I know I don’t have to. But if I’ve learnt anything from Princess Twilight, it’s never to abandon a friend in need.”
“But I’m not a friend, am I?” Spike asked, his voice falling somewhere between a genuine question and a damning self-accusation. “I’m just Twilight’s assistant. You don’t know me.”
“Okay, maybe we’re not close like I am with Smoulder and the others, but we’ve still talked. If it weren’t for you giving Thorax a chance, I’d still be trapped in serving Queen Chrysalis. Besides, Smoulder’s your friend, isn’t she?”
“What does it matter?”
“She’s the one who asked me to check on you. Starlight would’ve given you the letter directly, but she couldn’t get a hold of you. She gave Smoulder the letter to pass on, but we both agreed it was better if I did it.”
Once again, Spike found himself at a loss for words. He could barely vocalise a confused squeak as he pushed himself up.
“I asked her out,” she continued, cringing slightly. “She said she wasn’t looking for anyone right now, but appreciated my gesture.”
Spike sat up stiffly, trying his best to keep eye contact as he listened to Ocellus speak.
“I won’t lie, it… felt like a gut punch – made worse because of my social anxiety. I seriously considered heading back to my hive and hibernating for the rest of the school year. All that time working up the courage to tell her how I felt, and in the end, it was for nothing.”
Spike couldn’t help but notice the edge of bitterness in Ocellus’ voice, but it wasn’t anywhere near as vicious as his own toxic thoughts. There was a reaction to pain, sure, but this felt like a controlled release, not an impulsive stab. Ocellus, too, noticed the chord her words had struck with Spike.
“I have to give Smoulder credit,” Ocellus smiled gently. “She was so understanding of how her answer hurt me. As much as I didn’t want to split up our group, she offered to keep her distance from me, if I needed it. To think, she never would’ve been this considerate if it wasn’t for the School of Friendship. She’s taken her lessons to heart, we all have, and it’s made both Changeling and Dragon culture so much better.”
“But you were still hurt, right?” Spike asked. “How did you deal with it? I want to respect Rarity, but I’m scared that if I talk to her again I’ll be so…”
“Mean?” Ocellus finished. “Yeah, I got that, too. Starlight taught me this saying: ‘Time is like a healing potion,’ or something like that. Personally, all I needed to ride out the worst of it was a good book. I don’t know if it’ll work for you, but I have another suggestion if you’re interested.”
Hopping to his feet, Spike took a slow breath in and stretched his limbs. “Anything’s better than sleeping all day. What do you suggest?”
Ocellus didn’t tell Spike where they were going. She said it would be a surprise regarding Smoulder, but nothing more.
From the route they flew, they were travelling over a reclaimed area of the Everfree Forest behind the school, which had been converted into a public park. He didn’t strike Smoulder as being a nature-loving type like Fluttershy, but then again, he’d been wrong about Rainbow Dash’s disdain for books, so anything could happen.
“We’re not far now,” Ocellus said, anticipating a potential question while keeping her cards close to her chest.
The first out-of-the-ordinary thing Spike noticed was a thick plume of grey smoke. Was Smoulder starting a bonfire or something? Any dragon above hatchling age knew the dangers of playing with fire, enchanted or otherwise, so he doubted she’d start one without an extremely good reason. Perhaps it was a prank from one of the school’s other dragons, or Celestia’s phoenix, Philomena, had gotten loose again?
Descending close to the tree line, a strange, rhythmic clickity-clack caught his ear, briefly growing louder before fading again – only adding to Spike’s growing confusion.
Ocellus’ expression gave away no clues. She was focused on navigating, though if he squinted, he could swear there was a subtle trace of a smirk growing across her lips. If he was the one being pranked, then she sure picked a strange way to lead him on.
“Be careful as we descend through the trees,” Ocellus said. “There might still be some lingering smoke.”
So, she had noticed the smoke, too. She didn’t sound concerned, suggesting it was something mundane in nature. Still, he decided to stick close to her, just to be on the safe side. Slowly, they dropped in altitude until they found an appropriate gap in the treeline.
Said gap was larger than expected, but it was what lay between the gap that took Spike by surprise.
Railway tracks. This explained the origin of the smoke, despite the line being much narrower than the one running through Ponyville station. What a railway was doing in this part of Ponyville, however, he had no idea.
“The station should be just up ahead,” said Ocellus, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about a brand-new railway line popping up under Spike’s nose. Even so, she’d piqued his curiosity, so he raised no objections.
The real surprise was what awaited them around the corner.
A hundred or so metres ahead of them sat the train that made this railway its home. The carriages looked to Spike like elongated saddles bolted onto tiny wagons, though whatever they lacked in creature comforts they made up for in passenger numbers. In addition to a small gathering of ponies, all of Ocellus’ friends had come to ride – save for Smoulder, who he guessed must have been driving the locomotive.
And what a locomotive it was. Somehow, it was simultaneously big and small at the same time, carrying eight driving wheels with a four-wheeled pony truck in front and a two-wheeled one behind. It had all the trappings of a huge, transcontinental express locomotive at a fraction of one’s original size. From its copper dome to its deep crimson livery, every part that could have been polished was freshly waxed to a mirror shine – including the immaculate bronze nameplate. Sleipnir, it read.
The cab was just big enough for maybe two creatures to sit in, and true to form, Smoulder pulled herself out onto the platform and stretched her arms. Like the blue overalls and engineer’s cap she wore, her face was smudged with blotches of black soot, to say nothing of how dirty her claws had become.
It was a good thing Rarity wasn’t there. She’d probably faint at the sight of a dragon so dirty.
“Ah, Spike, you made it,” Smoulder said, wiping down her claws with a small cloth. “I heard about what happened with Rarity. So sorry you had to go through that.”
Suppressing a grimace at yet more prodding of his emotional wounds, Spike simply nodded and changed the topic. “What’s going on here? When did Ponyville get another railway?”
“You didn’t know? Twilight gave us permission to build a miniature railway here in Everfree Park. Everyone here is part of the Ponyville Miniature Railroading Club, and today’s our opening day.”
From the way Smoulder talked, she made it sound like the most obvious thing in Equestria. Perhaps Spike had helped Twilight review the necessary paperwork, but with how busy she was, this one had escaped recollection under the mountain of other papers.
However it had come to be, it had captured his imagination. What purpose was there for scaling down a steam engine like this? He supposed it would be easier to run on a smaller footprint, but this wasn’t a model railway, it was a miniature railway; similar terms, yet also very different in this context.
“Pretty cool engine, huh?” Puffing out her chest, Smoulder placed her claws on her hips. “It’s a miracle that it’s in such good condition. If you think about it, a steam locomotive is like a metal dragon. You feed the fire in its belly, and it’ll race off like no tomorrow.”
The thought of a sentient, metal dragon didn’t inspire much confidence in Spike, particularly given dragon culture’s propensity toward ‘might makes right’ attitudes. He was glad Ember was initiating that change, with Smoulder being a prime example.
“Anyway, I need to top up the lubricators before the next run out. You’re welcome to stay if you want, but I totally get it if you wanna be alone right now. No pressure.”
Spike bit his lip, quietly humming at his indecision. His instincts were already screaming at him to run and hide, far away from the public eye. But at the same time, his mind was still playing catch up with the newly revealed miniature railway.
He’d never given a second thought about travelling by train before—not least due to the amount of heavy luggage Rarity made him carry—but that always came with a purpose, getting from A to B. He was always too busy to travel for the sake of it, so he’d stuck to comic books as his primary hobby.
He thought back to Twilight’s letter. Focus on recovering, however long you need.
“I… think I’d like to stay, actually,” he said somewhat meekly. “For a while, anyway. I might not talk much. I don’t want to drag you guys down with me.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Smoulder smiled, giving him a thumbs up. “Ocellus brought you here to get away from cruddy emotions. If you ever need to talk, we’re down to listen. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy the ride.”
To that, Spike smiled a little. Though he’d never taken an interest in trains, Smoulder and Ocellus’ kindness had given him some reprieve from heartache. He mouthed a quiet ‘thank you,’ before turning to take a seat on the carriage behind him…
“Make way for Yona!”
…only to be tackle-hugged by a charging yak twice his size. He barely had the chance to question her before becoming half-buried in a thick mass of fluffy fur.
“Yona heard Spike not happy,” she proclaimed with great enthusiasm. “So Yona give Spike traditional yak comfort hug.”
“Um, Yona,” said Sandbar somewhere behind her. “I think in pony customs, you're supposed to ask first.”
“Oh,” Yona replied, blushing as she released Spike from her grip. “Sorry. Yona wanted to help, but Yona still learning. Spike not hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Spike said between gasps, spitting out loose strands of hair. “Thanks for the hug, though I don’t deserve it.”
Tilting her head, Yona’s expression dropped. “What Spike mean? All Yona’s friends deserve hugs. Spike be Yona’s friend, so Spike deserves hugs.”
Why does everyone keep calling me a friend when they barely know me? They've no idea how long I’d been pursuing this stupid crush. No, it’s all about me, the selfish little dragon who felt entitled to romance.
“All right, the engine’s oiled up and the fire’s nice and bright. All aboard who’s coming aboard!”
Smoulder’s announcement couldn’t have come sooner. If this was the way Spike’s mind was going to twist things, he needed all the distractions he could get. He chose to sit in the front carriage, just behind the engine. If he were to focus on enjoying the ride for its own sake, then he may as well see how the engine worked.
With everyone on board, Smoulder sounded the whistle and released the breaks. Hissing with the loud rush of exhaust steam, the engine lurched into life, chuffing its way out of the station. From his position, Spike couldn’t see much of the cab interior, but he did see a certain elegance in the way the piston rods moved in tandem with each other. It didn’t take long for the train to get up to speed, winding its way through the gentle curves cut cleanly into the forest.
It wasn’t that long ago when the Everfree was synonymous with danger – an untamed wilderness filled with wild magic and even wilder animals. Now, with the Tree of Harmony restored, it was no more dangerous than any other wild area - if one was properly equipped to deal with the great outdoors, of course.
Spike knew of sightseeing tours in concept. He had directed a few of them himself, guiding ponies through both Ponyville and the Crystal Empire, always preoccupied with rattling off various facts and pieces of trivia the visitors would wish to know.
This was different. He was under no obligation to make chatter here. He could just sit back and watch the world go by, indulging his eyes on the forest serenity while filling his ears with the sound of working steam.
Here and now, his toxic thoughts had vanished, granting him peace for the first time since Rarity had shot him down. He would take the smell of smoke and ash over one-sided crushes any day, even if the former did sting his eyes a little.
Though the journey was taken at a leisurely pace, it only lasted around fifteen minutes before they wound up back at the station. As if taking a breather from its hard work, the locomotive sighed via a large jet of white steam, ejecting from the rear-mounted brass valves.
Disembarking, Smoulder stretched her limbs before turning back to Spike. She said something to him, but her voice was muffled by the sound of rushing steam.
“What?” Spiked asked.
“She said… do… ride…” said Gallus, though even his shouting was patchy against the background noise.
Thus, it fell to Yona to deliver the message. All it took was one, deep inhalation for Sandbar and the others to plug their ears in advance. “SMOULDER ASK IF SPIKE ENJOYED THE RIDE?!”
It took a moment for Spike to steady himself after that earth-shaking announcement. “Actually, yeah, I did. Thanks, guys. This is one getaway I didn’t know I needed.”
“Agreed,” said Gallus. “I’m not normally a ‘sit around and do nothing’ kind of guy. But in this case, it’s a neat little exception.”
“It’s amazing how Smoulder can work a steam engine all on her own. Don’t you normally need two creatures for that?”
“You’re not wrong,” Smoulder chuckled. “If you’re talking full-sized engines, you need both an engineer and a fire creature.”
“So… dragons can do both at once?”
Smoulder shook her head. “Nah, it’s the size of the firebox that matters, and how much coal you need to fill it. Even dragons can’t keep the fire going on their own.”
Spike scratched his head, rolling back his eyes as if he were solving a difficult maths problem. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s complicated stuff,” added Silverstream. “But Smoulder can talk your head off about it if you let her.”
“We’ll let Spike decide that, shall we?” Smoulder affirmed, puffing out her chest. “I need to refill the tender with water. Wanna come with and get a little cab tour?”
Spike raised his claw to object, but caught himself mid-breath. Twilight had told him to take a break. Besides, what was the alternative? Going back to brooding in his room until she returned?
“Would I ever!” he answered, flapping his wings with enthusiastic fervour. His excitement died down, however, upon realising one important detail. “You are gonna take the coaches with you, right?”
Smoulder shook her head. “Nah. There’s another pony who wants to show off their engine, so I’ll be taking a breather.”
“But then where will I sit?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll be going slow, so there’s room on the tender.”
While Smoulder worked on uncompelling the locomotive, Gallus set about changing the points. The heavy leaver took some effort to pull, but once it moved, the guide rail switched from leading around the curve to straight-tracked section.
Sitting on top of the tender wasn’t the most comfortable position for Spike, but he’d had worse. He considered himself lucky that he’d never shown an interest in hoarding coal. From here, he had a better view of the cab, and true to form, it looked as complicated as any mainline engine, filled with various levers and wheels of unknown functions. Surely Smoulder didn’t need all these just to make the engine start or stop?
Shuffling forward a little, he watched with great intent as she slipped back into the cab. The first thing she did was grab the lever on the right-hand side of the cab and push it all the way forward, clicking it into place on the furthest of the five notches. Next, she pulled on another lever—which Spike guessed had something to do with the breaks—before sounding the whistle.
With that, they were off, chuffing down the secondary line at a comfortable pace. The water tower wasn’t far from the station. The trees had obscured the structure around a sharp curve to the left, though he doubted he would’ve noticed if he hadn’t been looking for it.
The ride around the bend was a gentle one. How long had Smoulder been able to drive steam trains? She clearly had a lot of experience, deftly manipulating the controls with just enough force to maintain the desired speed. He couldn’t imagine working on something so complicated himself, though he supposed this was, in part, why he found the whole process so fascinating.
When Smoulder brought the locomotive to a stop, he noticed that the water tower’s swan-necked pipe was positioned just over the tender.
“All right, Spike,” Smoulder said as she pulled down the tower’s retractable ladder. “Here’s where I need a spare pair of claws. On the tender behind you, there should be a small dome with a latch on it. Pull that open, and when I swing the pipe to you, grab the rubber tube and put it inside.”
It was a simple enough task. Once the valve was opened, all Spike had to do was keep steady and let gravity do the rest. Simple as the task may have been, he’d contributed to the railway’s operations, leaving him with an odd feeling of satisfaction.
“Is there anything else I can help with?” Spike asked in anticipation.
“Well, we’re not hurting for coal right now,” Smoulder smiled softly, scratching her chin. Once upon a time, she would have looked down on such eagerness to help, but that was before Ember was crowned Dragon Lord. “So, wanna start the cab tour?”
“Heck yeah!” Expecting a lecture of Twilight proportions, Spike shuffled forward to get a better view.
Climbing onto the tender next to him, Smoulder cleared her throat. “Okay, firstly, do you know how a steam engine works?”
Spike cocked an eyebrow. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking for a cab tour.”
Smoulder chuckled. “No, silly. I mean in general. You know it runs on steam, but how do you make the steam that gets everything moving?”
“Uh, I guess it’s like a hot air balloon, but with steam?”
“Y’know, that’s pretty close. The hot air comes from burning coal in the firebox. That goes through tubes to boil the water in the boiler.”
“So, kinda like a tea kettle?”
Smoulder snapped her claws. “Now you’re getting it!”
Spike rubbed the back of his head, feeling his cheeks warm. “I guess I know something after all.”
“Just don’t let it go to your head.” Smoulder winked, lightly jabbing his arm for good measure. “Anyway, once the steam is collected in the steam dome, it’s all transferred into the cylinders – those are what moves to the piston rods.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re what drives the wheels, right? The rods that kinda criss-cross each other?”
“Yup! It’s all a matter of pressure. Steam gets delivered into one side, pushing the valve forward, while the exhaust steam gets pushed out of the chimney. That’s what makes the ‘chuff’ sound you’re always hearing.”
“So, when the wheels rotate, they help to push the cylinders back in the other direction?”
“Bingo! Plus, that pressure always needs an out. The steam will go where the pressure is lowest, pushing the piston back and forth. Clever, ain’t it?”
“Wow.” Spike’s wide eyes sparkled with wonder. ‘Clever’ was putting it mildly.
“Now that that’s out of the way, I can finally show you around the cab. Did ya see the lever I pulled when the train got going?”
“The one on the right?”
“Yeah, that one. That’s the reversing rod. It sets the running gear forward or backwards.”
“Running gear, huh.” Spike mulled over the name. In addition to the piston rods, there was a cluster of smaller rods closer to the cylinders which didn’t have an obvious purpose. “Is that what’s coming out of the cylinders?”
“That’s part of it. What you’re looking at is the valve gear.”
“So, why does the reverser need so many notches? Wouldn’t you only need three?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Hopping over to the other side, Smoulder reached inside and grabbed the reverser. “Watch closely.”
Spike noticed how the valve gear moved in stages as she manipulated the rod.
“You need a lot of steam and motion to get going,” Smoulder continued. “But once you’re moving, it only takes a little push to keep forward momentum. When the reverser’s closer to neutral, the middle, it doesn’t open as much.”
“So, it saves wasting steam you don’t need!”
“Bingo. You’re catching on pretty quickly. Are you sure Twilight didn’t give you an advanced lecture?”
“Twilight hasn’t been here all week.” Spike’s expression dropped. “She left me behind… guess I’ve outlived my usefulness to her.”
Smoulder smacked her face with her palm. “Great job, Smoulder,” she muttered under her breath. “You just had to hit a sore spot.”
“It’s not your fault,” Spike replied with a dejected sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping. I just don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, pal,” Smoulder placed her claw on Spike’s shoulder. “I’m the one who should apologise. I was just making a joke, but it doesn’t excuse me from hurting you.”
“No offence, but can we just move on? There are loads more train stuff I need to learn about.”
Happy to oblige, Smoulder directed Spike’s attention to the horizontal lever above the others. She explained that it was the regulator, allowing a greater or lesser flow of steam as needed to achieve speed. Next, she explained the different locomotive breaks, referencing the necessity of slowing the whole train and not just the locomotive.
She saved the most important functions for last. Gesturing to the glass water gauges, she said, “See that red line at the bottom? If you’re gonna go anywhere, then the water level needs to be above it. ‘Cause no matter how good the boiler’s insulation is, if there’s not enough water, you don’t have a locomotive anymore. You have a bomb on wheels.”
Spike grimaced. He knew enough about Equestria’s railway history to know how that analogy came about. “The water’s in the tender, right? How do you get it from there to the boiler?”
“That is where this little guy comes in handy.” Smoulder tapped on the small wheel above the reversing rod. “It’s called a steam injector. To put it simply, it uses a jet of live steam to draw water into the boiler.”
That left only one critical component to discuss. With bated breath, Spike gestured to a small lever tucked away in the bottom left-hand corner.
“That,” Smoulder continued, “is to open the drain cocks. Whenever you see the engine shoot off steam from the cylinders, that’s getting rid of any condensed water inside. Those cylinders are tough, but they aren’t tough enough to push water around.”
“Smoulder, I…” Hearing himself trail off, Spike racked his brain for anything that could express his pure fascination. He knew this would be intricate, but to understand just how many different parts there were interacting with one another was something else.
“Y’know, I didn’t expect you to be so into all this steam train stuff,” Smoulder arched her eyebrows as she smiled. “But I’ve gotta admit, it feels good to have some creature to talk to about it.”
Spike blinked. “What about Ocellus and the others? They were having a good time, weren’t they?”
“Well, yeah, but they’re just in it for the chill ride. There are other ponies who drive miniature locomotives, but they’re busy with maintenance and stuff. You’re kinda somewhere in the middle. So, thanks, Spike.”
Once again, Spike felt his cheeks go red. “I should be thanking you. I would’ve been alone all day if you hadn’t invited me.”
Smoulder hummed in thought. “Hey, I have an idea.”
“Huh?”
“Do you wanna work with these trains?”
As if Spike wasn’t already starstruck, this offer made his jaw hit the floor. He threw his arms around Smoulder in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, yes, please! I promise you won’t regret it! I’ll work as hard as I can!”
“Well, I, uh, expect you— yeah, I guess.”
Hearing Smoulder’s flustered reply, Spike quickly let go, clasping his claws behind his back. “Oh, crud. I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Well, kinda, but not really? I mean, I don’t mind the mushy stuff, just… ask next time?”
“Oh, of course! Sorry, I should’ve been more considerate.” Smooth moves, Spike. Way to kill the mood. “I’d, uh, better get going. I’ve got chores to do before Twilight gets home.”
“Yeah, me too; locomotive stuff, I mean. See you tomorrow morning?”
Spike breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “What time?”
“Early. Like, seven o’clock, early. I’ve got a ton to teach you about starting up locomotives.”
Spike fought back a grimace. The last thing he needed was for Smoulder to think he was lazy, as well as impulsive. “Sure thing. I, uh, guess I’ll see you then.”
Not wanting to prolong the conversation, Spike flew off, making a b-line straight for the castle. Stupid feelings. What did you think was gonna happen? You should’ve learned from Yona. Stupid Spike, stupid, dumb excuse for a dragon, stupid…
When he was finally out of earshot, Spike released a loud, frustrated groan. This was going to be a long night.
Spike spent the rest of the evening in Twilight’s library, searching for any book he could find on the topic of steam trains. The task wasn’t hard, just time-consuming, taking at least ten minutes to get through the letter ‘S’ category alone.
By evening, he had stacked up a pile of books taller than he was. Even if some entries were only tangentially related to steam locomotive operations, he’d take anything to drown out the persistent intrusive thoughts that continued to stab at him.
He was halfway through The Complete History of Equestrian Railways: Vol. 1 when a voice caught his ear.
“Spike? Are you home?”
It was Twilight. Did something happen? She wasn’t supposed to be back until Monday.
“I’m in the Library,” he called back, though couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for her early return.
Dropping her saddlebag in the hall with an echoing thump, Twilight rushed up the stairs and burst into the library, plonking herself next to Spike and wrapping her wing around him. “I completed my diplomatic duties in record time. Turns out, they weren’t nearly as anxious about making peace with dragons as I expected. I’m sorry I left you behind. I genuinely thought it was necessary. Are you holding up okay?”
“Twilight, that’s enough!” Spike groaned, pushing her off him. “I’ll be fine. I just don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Of course, Spike,” Twilight smiled in relief. “I’m glad to hear it. What are you reading?”
“Nothing much. Just a book about Equestria’s railways. Did you know that a pony named Iron-beard Kingdom Bridle originally planned for the Ponyville branch to be broad gauge? The tracks would’ve been seven feet across! Kind of a shame it was never built that way. It would’ve been incredible to see.”
“Oh my gosh,” Twilight gasped, her smile blossoming into a full grin. If there was one thing guaranteed to spark her excitement, it was a loved one fixating on a good book. “I didn’t know you were so interested in trains, Spike. Have you been studying long? Do you need any research help? It looks like you’ve got quite the stack already, but I can always visit the Canterlot library for further reading.”
“Uh, that’s okay, Twilight,” Spike replied, slightly taken aback by the sudden explosion of joy. Twilight and Pinkie Pie didn’t share many traits, but once the topic of books came up, it was hard to tell the difference. “Smoulder asked me to help at the miniature railway. Y’know, the one near the Everfree forest? I’m just getting started, so this should be enough for now.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Twilight giggled. “I should start researching the topic myself. Just in case.”
Yeah, ‘cause the baby dragon still needs adult supervision. “Well, it’s your library, so…”
Carefully levitating a book out from the bottom of the pile, Twilight opened it and flicked through the pages. “This will do nicely. Anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better, Spike. If there’s anything you need to talk about, you know I’m here for you.”
Oh sure. Will you be warming up my bottle, next? “Thanks, Twilight. I appreciate it.”
Once Twilight had left the room, Spike realised how tense he was. She had always cared for him, but did she care about him? He wasn’t sure such a distinction existed. In some ways, he expected her to press him more, but was also glad that she didn’t.
Letting out a noise that was somewhere between a yawn and a groan, Spike rubbed his eyes with his claws. There he went, constructing yet another no-win scenario to keep him trapped in a spiral of negativity. These emotional contradictions were getting exhausting. He didn’t love Twilight any less for going on a solo mission, it had just come at a bad time, that was all.
Looking at the time, he decided it was best to start winding down. If he were to be awake enough to be of use to Smoulder tomorrow, he'd better get a good night’s sleep – even if his intrusive thoughts tried to sabotage that.
Flicking back a few pages, he placed his bookmark over an annotated, cut-away diagram of a steam locomotive. Perhaps if he recited the various part names as he drifted off, he could keep himself calm and better internalise the information for the morning’s work. Between that, and a nice hot cup of herbal tea, he’d all but guarantee future Spike’s feeling of refreshment.
Re-focusing his thoughts, he set his mind to imagine all the different jobs he would be asked to do. Perhaps there was a locomotive in need of urgent repairs, wagons that needed shunting, or conductor duties?
Conductor Spike, he repeated to himself. I like the sound of that.
“Ah, just the dragon I wanted to see.” Smoulder broke from her conversation with Gallus to signal Spike over.
“Morning Smoulder,” Spike said, suppressing a yawn. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t managed to guard himself from the barrage of intrusive thoughts last night. He’d given it his all, forcefully recalling Smoulder’s lecture dozens of times over. Yet at every turn, he found himself drifting back to Rarity, and the moment his dreams of romance were crushed for good. He hoped he’d retained enough of the previous knowledge to sufficiently prove his worth as a volunteer.
“So, what do you need me to do?” he asked, forcefully extending his weak smile. On the bright side, his tiredness helped to dampen his shuddering nerves to the point of functionality. If only it did the same to the butterflies in his stomach.
“I’ll be with you soon. I’ve gotta do some pencil-pushing stuff, first. Gallus will show you around in the meantime.”
“Oh.” Never mind butterflies, the contents of Spike’s stomach had suddenly transformed into a pile of lead bricks. Had his impulsive affection driven her away, already?
No, he told himself. No more catastrophizing. Just focus on the job. You’ll work with her soon enough.
“Right this way,” Gallus said, though Spike couldn’t tell if he noticed his apprehension. “It’s great that you’re here, Spike. We’ve been needing an extra pair of claws for maintenance stuff. Don’t get me wrong, Smoulder’s a capable dragon, but she is just one dragon.”
“Really?” Spike gave an incredulous look. If yesterday’s train was to be believed, this miniature railway had become the star attraction amongst Ponyville’s youth. “With all that buzz yesterday, wouldn’t there be some creature who’d be thrilled to help out?”
Gallus snorted. “No offence, Spike, but don’t hold your breath. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Smoulder, it’s that steam engines are a ‘labour of love’ defined.”
Spike gulped. Was Gallus trying to intimidate him? There was no turning back now. Entering the shed, Spike spotted the long, red locomotive Smoulder had run the previous day, in addition to three other engines of a similar size.
“This is the one Smoulder wants to run today,” Gallus said, gesturing to the green tender engine with the taller chimney. “You’ll need to clean the outside in a specific order before you light the fire. Do you need it written down?”
“Well, if you’re working here, too, I could always mirror whatever you do.”
“No way, nuh-uh! I don’t leave a job half finished, and, well…”
Spike paused as Gallus trailed off. His reaction was surprisingly abrupt, and yet there was something about his manner of speaking that felt off. He wasn’t lying—at least, not entirely—but he had no doubt let slip more than he would care to admit upfront.
“Uh, Gallus, are you okay?” Spike asked. “You’re sweating.”
“I’ll be fine, but… promise you won’t laugh?”
This surprised Spike. He never pegged Gallus as the type to worry about mockery. “Of course, I won’t. I’ve never been that kind of dragon.”
“All right, here goes.” Gallus braced himself. “I’m scared of small spaces. I can’t clean the engine’s underside ‘cause the pit’s too cramped.”
Spike blinked. “Is that all?”
“Wait, what?”
“If it’s claustrophobia, then I get it. I’ve never been to Griffonstone, but from what Twilight told me, the place used to be pretty run-down – no offence.”
“None taken. It still isn’t great. Not like in the stories. Most gryphons would laugh at me if I told them I was scared.”
“Dude, stuff like avalanches and cave-ins are no joke. Aren’t things improving up there? If they aren’t, I’ll have to talk to Twilight about it.”
“Nah, you’re fine. Griffonstone is still rebuilding, albeit slowly. Give it time, and I’m sure it’ll be much safer than when I was little.” Easing his stance, Gallus let go of the tension in his diaphragm. “Thanks, Spike. It feels good to get that out in the open. It’s rare for Gryphons to talk about their feelings, least of all fears. I’m sure you can relate.”
“Well, sorta. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly an ordinary dragon.”
Gallus chuckled. “Of course. Anyway, let’s get to the cleaning routine before Smoulder finishes her paperwork. You wait near the engine, and I’ll grab you a bucket and some rags.”
“Sure thing.”
While he waited, Spike took the time to visually inspect the locomotive. If there were any obvious faults or breakages, he suspected Smoulder would already know, but it didn’t hurt to check anyway. He could see what Gallus meant about tight spaces. Standing on the gridded maintenance pit, the space below would be quite a squeeze for most foals, let alone a gryphon.
Save for one tank engine, the locomotives were all roughly the same size, give or take a few millimetres. This one was painted bright green, and though it had the same number of wheels, they were arranged differently. Based on the way Smoulder counted them, listing the leading and trailing wheels separately from the driving wheels, he knew this wheel arrangement was classified as a four-six-two ‘pacific’ type.
Now that he thought about it, Manehatten station was always abuzz with different locomotives, whether they were for freight or passenger duties. Those hauling freight typically had smaller driving wheels, but more of them, while the reverse was true for express engines.
He’d seen ponies partake in trainspotting before, though he’d never understood the hobby until now. Sitting around writing down numbers all day sounded like a fun activity – if your name was ‘Twilight Sparkle’. But for him, it had sounded tedious. Did these ponies have nowhere to go? There were so many sights and tourist hotspots to visit in Manehatten, spending it all at the train station seemed like a waste.
Now, however, he wondered if he’d feel any different. It wasn’t just a cataloguing of numbers, after all. It was an appreciation for the sheer variety of engineering marvels on display, building a data-based picture of different designs for different needs. The smaller, brightly coloured tank engines that ran through Ponyville felt quaint in comparison to the bigger express engines, but when considering the frequency of station stops the service typically made, he supposed higher speeds would be unnecessary.
When Gallus returned, he carried with him more than just a bucket and cloth. “Here,” he said, throwing a small pair of denim overalls and some five-fingered rubber gloves at him. From the way the overalls had been stitched up, they had previously been made for ponies, only to be re-fitted for a smaller dragon. “Put these on. You don’t want to be getting nasty chemicals on your skin.”
Chemicals? Spike hesitated, but did as he was told.
“You need to clean and polish in this order: Start with the hot brass—the steam dome and such—then go underneath to clean the link motions. When you’re done, clean the cold brass and finish with any windows and paintwork stuff. That’s when we’ll work on starting the fire.”
Stretching his wings, Spike set to work. The hot brass was easy enough to reach due to the locomotive’s small size, so it didn’t take long for him to wash it down and polish it to a mirror shine.
The link motion, however, proved to be a little more fiddly. With how everything was connected, he had to squeeze his claws through some tight spaces to rub off all the accumulated grime and oil from its previous operation, and even then he didn’t get much leverage. He was starting to see what Gallus meant by ‘labour of love.’
Despite the limitations, Spike managed to push himself to do a thorough job. Smoulder was relying on him to keep these engines in working order, and he couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing her. He’d had enough disappointments for one lifetime.
So focused was Spike on his task, he didn’t hear Smoulder’s footsteps drawing toward him…
“Hey, Spike.”
…and so jumped at the sound of her voice, slamming his head on the underside of the engine.
“Oh, that’s gotta hurt,” Gallus cringed.
“You okay there, Spike?” Smoulder asked.
“Ow,” Spike replied. Patting his head, he thanked his lucky stars for shock-absorbing scales, leaving him with only a small bump. An open wound here would’ve won him a free trip straight to the hospital. “Yeah, I’m okay. Nothing serious.”
No sooner had Spike climbed out of the pit, Smoulder took his place, slowly scanning her head back and forth across the length of the engine’s underside. Spike watched with bated breath. Had he missed something? Had he broken an essential component when he’d hit his head? He was nothing if not thorough in his cleaning, and nothing appeared out of place – to his eyes, at least.
“Well, would ya look at that,” Smoulder said at last. “Not a bad job for a first timer. Are you sure you’ve never cleaned an engine before?”
Spike smiled, the tension in his gut melting away. “You don’t get to be Twilight’s number-one assistant if you don’t have an eye for spotting dirt.”
“Well, the good news is, the hard part’s over for now. At this rate, she’ll be steaming in no time.”
“Who’s ‘she’?” Spike asked, staring blankly back at Smoulder as she climbed from the pit.
“The engine, silly,” Smoulder laughed. “It’s a railway tradition to refer to machines with feminine pronouns. Dunno why, but it’s fun enough, so the habit stuck.”
“Yo, Smoulder, do you need me to do anything else?” asked Gallus. “‘Cause Sandbar and Yona want me to help them organise something.”
“It’s cool,” Smoulder replied, giving a thumbs up before dusting herself off. “Thanks for giving Spike the rundown.”
“Cool. Glad I could help. Good luck to you, Spike,” he said with a wink. “I’m rooting for ya.”
Spike considered asking what he meant by that last part, but Gallus flew off before he could speak. Shrugging, he returned his attention to cleaning duties.
“So,” he said to Smoulder, wiping down the cold brass nameplates. “How long have you been interested in trains?”
“Good question,” Smoulder hummed, flapping her wings a little as she thought. “I guess I’ve been interested since I first saw them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, back in the Dragon Lands, we don’t have any public transport since we can, y’know, fly everywhere. I guess ponies are a little more ‘advanced’ in that sense.”
Spike pursed his lips. He didn’t like the word ‘advanced’. Sure, he preferred the companionship and creature comforts of pony society, but implying that dragons were less developed felt off.
“I dunno about you, but once I started seeing ‘em more regularly, I got curious. Kinda goes without saying that the Friendship School helps ya mix with creatures of different interests.”
“So, you weren’t the founder of the Miniature Railway club?”
Smoulder shook her head. “No, but I am one of the most active members. As I’m sure Gallus told ya, this little line is popular with passengers, but actual engineers? Not so much.”
“It’s a real shame,” Spike sighed. “I mean, I know not every creature has the skills for all this. But there must’ve been some foal who stood on the platform and thought, ‘Wow, I wanna do that someday!’”
A sly grin grew across Smoulder’s face. “Why, was that you?”
Spike narrowed his eyes. He knew she was teasing, but at this point, anything other than a sincere answer would be an obvious lie. “Nah, it never crossed my mind before. But I guess I’ve always liked helping, since that’s how Twilight raised me.”
“And we’re all better for it.”
“Yeah, we are – wait, what?” Caught off guard, Spike dropped to his knees, hiding his befuddled expression behind the boiler. “I mean, well, I…”
Smoulder burst out laughing. “Sweet Celestia, Spike! I didn’t realise you were so easy to fluster!”
Spike let out a loud groan, half-tempted to bury his face in the dirty cloth just to hide his embarrassment.
“In all seriousness,” Smoulder continued, wiping a tear from her eye. “You’re a hero, Spike. Not just to the Dragon lands, but to the Crystal Empire, too. You deserve to give yourself some credit.”
“Tried that once.” Spike shuddered, recalling the extreme awkwardness of the Equestria Games. “Anytime I let this kinda thing go to my head, it doesn’t end well.”
“Oh.” Smoulder’s expression dropped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. You wanna talk about it?”
Spike didn’t dignify that with an answer.
“I’ll take that as a no. Still, whatever you think of yourself, I think you’re cool. Anyway, it’s my dream that one day, I’ll get to drive full-sized trains; like the ones running through Ponyville.”
Thankful for the change of topic, Spike straightened his posture, but still avoided eye contact. “You’d be great at that, for sure.”
“That’s partly what I’ve been doing with all that paperwork. I’m hoping to get a job over the winter break.”
“Hey, that gives me an idea.” Spike snapped his claws. “Why don’t I invite Twilight to the railway sometime? She could put in a good word for you as a reference.”
Now it was Smoulder’s turn to blush. “Well, that’d be great, but you don’t have to do that for me. I know Twilight’s a busy mare with all her Princess duties.”
“C’mon! This is Twilight we’re talking about! If any pony’s gonna nerd out over niche details, it’s her. Besides, even Princesses need time off.”
“All right, all right, we’ll see what she can do. But don’t think this gets you out of engine cleaning, mister. So, get scrubbing!”
“At your command, ma’am!” Before he could stop himself, Spike bowed in an exaggerated manner, making Smoulder laugh approvingly instead of cringing - much to his relief.
One month later, Spike had settled into his new normal. The miniature railway had become a modest tourist attraction, which, to Twilight’s relief, drew enough attention away from her Castle to allow her some peace and quiet.
As for the volunteer roster, not much had changed. One pony—a green-coated, non-binary unicorn whose name Spike could never seem to remember—and one hippogriff had joined with their own engines, adding an extra service on the weekends.
The line was long enough to allow for two engines operating at one time, but with the additional traffic came the complication of signaling. Thankfully, Yona and Sandbar offered to help in this regard. While neither were engineers of any sort, their attentiveness and preference for quiet spaces made them ideal signal box attendees. All they had to do was swap block tokens with the drivers, which allowed safe passage through either track section. After that, the signals could be set to danger until the next train came along to repeat the process.
Because of this, Everfree Park halt became their favorite dating destination on slower days.
As for Spike himself, he’d spent every chance he got at the railway. Most of the time, he was either cleaning engines or acting as the train’s conductor. New carriages had been built and delivered for the October season, fully enclosed so they could be operated in all weather conditions.
Igniting a small pile of wood to get the fire going, Spike carefully covered the firebox’s grate floor with small lumps of coal. Of the many things Smoulder had taught him, the firing mantra of ‘little but often’ had been drilled into his brain from the start. If any engine was to get a full head of steam, then every inch of the firebox needed covering, as anything less would be wasteful.
With one engine warming up, he turned his attention to cleaning the other. He’d helped to drain the boiler the previous evening, so now that it was nice and cool, he picked up a long, thin brush and opened the smokebox door at the front, setting about cleaning the boiler tubes of any accumulated ash and grime.
He was halfway done when he heard the familiar hiss of a locomotive reversing into the yard.
“Hey, Spike,” said Smoulder.
“Welcome back,” he waved back at her.
In the time they’d been working together, their bond had gone from strength to strength. She never pushed him to talk about his feelings, but her patience and open mind had been instrumental in mending Spike’s broken heart. Piece by piece, he’d opened, sharing everything that had gone into his crush on Rarity.
Whatever life threw at him, he could always return to Smoulder, using the railway as shelter from any emotional storm. Yet through all their conversations, something had been simmering in the back of his mind – a question he didn’t yet know how to express.
Much like his interest in steam locomotives, it had started off as a general curiosity from an outsider’s perspective. But the more he’d hung around Smoulder and her friends, the more pervasive the question had become.
But first, he decided it best to prioritize operational discussions. “Everything okay with the engine?”
“Yep, running nice and smooth. The tender just needs a coal refill. How are things on your end?”
“Eh, pretty routine. Bellerophon’s smoke box is extra dirty, but that’s about it.”
“Well, that’s Terramar’s locomotive. I’ll talk to him about his firing skills, ‘cause I have a hunch he’s using too much coal. It’s not causing you any trouble, is it?”
“Nah. Cleaning takes a little longer, but otherwise, it’s no problem. Although, there is something I’ve been wondering about…”
“Hmm? What’s up?”
“It’s not train related, but, well, y’know how Sandbar is a trans colt, but still likes all the hyper-feminine stuff?”
“Uh…” Smoulder blanked, and blinked. “...yeah? What about him?”
“Well, it’s not about her— I mean, him. I mean…” Pursing his lips, Spike closed his eyes. Just when he thought he was making progress in a new friendship, he had to start tripping over his words and misgendering. “I think I’m non-binary.”
Silence. Had this been a bad time, after all?
“I—”
“Is that all?” Smoulder answered at last. Spike opened his eyes and saw she was smiling. “Come here you!”
Grabbing Spike by the shoulder, she pulled him in for a tight hug. Relieved, Spike reciprocated, letting out a relaxed sigh.
“I thought you were crushing on Sandbar, and that woulda been so awkward. Do you wanna talk about it, or did ya just want to come out to me and move on?”
“I would like to talk about it, yeah. I just don’t know if I qualify.”
“What do you mean by ‘qualify?’” Smoulder eased off.
“The thing is, like, I know Ocellus is gender fluid since, like all changelings, she can transform how she looks in an instant. I also know that Sandbar likes to be super feminine even though he’s male. But me? I’ve always just been me. Twilight never called me anything other than a boy, but never said I should only ‘act’ like a boy, either.”
Letting go, Smoulder climbed into Sleipnir’s cab and gestured for Spike to join her.
“Well, just ‘cause your personality ain’t a hundred-per cent masculine, doesn’t mean you have to be non-binary,” she continued. “Like, I’m bigender, and I mostly like masculine stuff, but cutesy, feminine junk like tea parties is cool, sometimes. That’d be the same if I was a boy or a girl.”
“That’s kind of how I feel, but I dunno what it even means to have a gender in the first place. It’s not something I thought about until spending time with you guys. Like, Garble always teased me for being into ‘Prissy pony stuff’, but if being a dragon meant I had to be a jerk like him, I’d rather be a pony any day. That got me thinking; how much of being me is about being girly, if that makes sense?”
Smoulder nodded. “It does. You’ve never deliberately tried to be one gender or another. You just have new words to describe it, right?”
“Yeah, exactly.” Spike smiled. “So, I don’t wanna have to choose between being male or female. I want to be me. I’d rather keep it simple, y’know? Is there a word for that?”
“Oh, there’s plenty. But based on what your description, I’d guess you’re something called ‘agender.’”
“Yeah, I think that fits! I’m agender.” Placing his claws over his chest, Spike let out a long, slow breath. “It feels good to say that out loud. Thanks, pal. You’re the best.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Leaning forward in her seat, Smoulder opened the firebox door and peeked inside. “Y’know, that gives me an idea.”
“An idea? What kind?”
“You’ve been working so hard with all the dirtiest jobs, so how about a little treat? Your first engine-driving lesson!”
Spike opened his mouth to object, but immediately closed it, biting his lip instead. From what he’d read, it took years for railway workers to become qualified enough to fire an engine, let alone drive it. Then again, he’d poured so much time and energy into understanding these machines inside and out, so why not give it a go? He’d be under Smoulder’s direct supervision, anyway.
“No pressure if you’d prefer not,” she said gently, sensing his anxiety.
“I… think I’d like to try. Maybe just to the water tower.”
“Sounds good for a first try. Refilling the tender won’t take long, so we’ll be ready to roll before you know it.”
Spike’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. If only he could silence those annoying insects that were his intrusive thoughts. Smoulder trusted him, and given the correct information, he knew Twilight would, too.
“You okay, Spike?” Smoulder asked as she began shoveling coal. “You’re looking pale.”
Spike nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Lemmie guess. First-time nerves, right?”
“Yeah.” Spike gulped. “Sorry. I know I’m kind of a downer.”
“Pfft, nothing to be sorry for! Everyone gets cold feet on their first day. Trust me, I wouldn’t let you touch the controls if I didn’t have faith in ya.”
Spike sighed, letting the words sink in. In truth, he’d been dreaming of this moment; the only reason he never asked was a lack of confidence. He’d been second-guessing himself so much these days, over… what? To avoid the pitfalls of overconfidence, did he need to beat himself up so much?
“All right,” Smoulder said as she climbed back into the cab. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’ll handle the breaks and stuff, while you’ll focus on the regulator and the reversing rod. With me so far?”
Again, Spike nodded.
“First, you need to put the reversing rod in the full forward position. Grab the handle, press down, and push it to the bottom notch facing the boiler.”
A simple enough start. This, at least, he couldn’t possibly break.
“Now, when I release the breaks, you’re gonna put one claw on the throttle and gently tap it open with the other.”
Spike steeled himself. Here it was, the most delicate part of the whole operation. Too much steam going through at once, and the wheels would slip. Placing his left claw on top, he wriggled the horizontal strip of metal, feeling the resistance.
I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
Sounding the whistle, he listened carefully for the hiss of the releasing engine breaks. Then, claw still clutched tightly on the regulator, he tapped it open once, twice, three times. Slowly, Sleipnir lurched into life, its eight, mighty driving wheels squealing as it rounded the sharp bend.
“That’s it, nice and gentle. Now ease off a little. We’ll only need a little bit to keep this baby going.”
Every muscle in his body was tense. The engine was moving slowly, but he knew from memory how much it could accelerate. With a firm tug, he pulled the regulator shut, then wiggled it until only the tiniest portion of steam was getting through to the cylinders.
“Keep it steady, and… that’s it! You can close the throttle completely now.”
As Sleipnir rolled to a gentle stop, Spike slumped back, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Now that’s what I call a first run! Way to go, buddy.” Giggling, Smoulder gave him a heavy pat on the back. “You’re a natural. Seriously, I’m proud of you. Keep this up, and you’ll be a fully qualified engineer in no time.”
Pulling the reverser back to the neutral slot, Spike stood up and took a deep breath through his nose, letting the potent whiff of rising exhaust steam fill his nostrils. He had done it. If only Twilight could see him now.
“Uh-oh.”
“Huh? What’s up?”
“Today’s the day of Twilight’s visit! I completely forgot!”
“Well, then.” Smoulder grinned, an expression he had come to recognise as her ‘cunning plan’ face. “What better way to show her what you’ve learned than driving to the platform?”
“Yes!” Pumping his fist to the sky, Spike felt his heart swell. At long last, he was rising above the pit of depression, and he had Smoulder to thank for it. At that moment, he felt like he could kiss her.
Navigating your way around a hobby that directly involves your crush was a difficult task, as Spike had come to learn. It was now December, and with Hearth’s Warming fast approaching, the railway was getting extra busy with families visiting for the Winter Holidays.
In the weeks since his realization, he’d done his best to play it cool around Smoulder. Having gained sufficient experience to drive and fire a miniature locomotive on his own, he divided his time carefully between cleaning and engineer duties.
He didn’t want to ghost Smoulder entirely. He wanted to be around her, but spending more time with her increased the risk of the relationship question rearing its ugly head. He’d already jeopardized one friendship this year thanks to his easily love-struck heart; he refused to risk another. As he recalled, Smoulder wasn’t interested in finding love anyway. Why bother setting himself up for failure?
Of course, this didn’t make all the feelings suddenly go away. The only way to keep them under wraps was to perform this delicate balancing act, keeping up just enough socialization to avoid arousing suspicion.
Success wasn’t guaranteed, however. More than once Smoulder had suspected something, and each time he brushed it off, excusing his coldness as everyday winter blues.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
“I know, I know. It’s just one of those days, I’ll be fine.”
Exchanges like that had become routine. In a way, Spike almost wished Smoulder wasn’t such a good friend. Maybe then he’d have an easier time extinguishing the burning romance in his firebox heart. If he could conquer this, all he had to do was keep his feelings to himself, and continue being fascinated by the magic of steam train operation.
Alas, reality didn’t work that way. Feelings had a nasty habit of building up like steam pressure in the boiler, and there was only so much one could keep inside before venting became essential.
That was where he was now.
He was on his fifth train of the day, driving an open-cabbed, four-wheeled tank engine named Arion. He’d done his best to fill his mind with the whirr of the engine, in addition to the chatter of passengers around him. Any other day, he’d find himself annoyed by the lively debates between railfans over the oddly named ‘improved-engine green’ livery—as to Spike’s eyes, it looked orange—but today, anything was better than thinking about Smoulder.
This engine was the fourth of the railway’s collection, and though it did the job just fine, he couldn’t help but feel a little underwhelmed when he compared them to Sleipnir or Bellerophon.
Oh, how his heart soared when Sleipnir was in motion! Its interlinked piston rods crossing over as its eight driving wheels smoothly creaked into life! It was a metal beast of incredible power, tamed by one of the kindest, most passionate dragons ever to grace Equestria. He could just imagine speeding across the countryside in a full-sized engine, hand in hand with his—
Ocellus’ shrill whistle dragged Spike back to the here and now. He’d been daydreaming again. These intrusive, romantic thoughts were getting out of hand. Sighing, he released the steam breaks, set the reverser to full forward, and opened the regulator. Why did his heart have to betray him like this? Everything was going swimmingly until he developed another stupid crush.
Focusing on driving the engine gave him a minor reprieve. Though the line’s slopes were modest by mainline standards, they still required careful attention to avoid excessive slowdown, or worse, overspeeding.
After rising over a few short hills, the line twisted back and forth around the forest before reaching the second station. The platform was short, just long enough to fit the length of the train, though he had little difficulty finding the perfect spot to halt.
“Hey there, Spike.” Looking over his shoulder, he spied Ocellus trotting up to greet him. “Do you have a minute?”
“Uh, sure, I guess,” he replied, chucking a few lumps of coal into the firebox before standing up. “We’ll be leaving once the other train departs. What’s up?”
“I’d prefer to talk in private if that’s okay. Terramar can take over driving for now.”
Spike grimaced. This had to be serious if it required a private conversation. “All right,” he said, trying his best to keep a neutral tone.
Ascending the stairs, his eyes darted between Ocellus and the hippogriff that emerged from the signal box. Terramar barely acknowledged him, giving him little more than a slight nod as he flew over. How much did he know?
Not helping matters was the fact that, much to his surprise, neither Sandbar nor Yona were there. Had Ocellus asked them to leave in advance? Was this issue so personal, she couldn’t even have them overhear?
Stop it, Spike, he chided himself. No one’s judging you.
He couldn’t stop fidgeting with his claws. Were he not so anxious, he would’ve laughed at how much he was Twilighting.
Once inside, the signal box’s radio buzzed thrice, a code he recognised as meaning that the train was clear to proceed. Pulling back two levers to change the signals, Ocellus watched with great intent as the train whistled and steamed away, leaving her alone with Spike.
“So,” he began, holding his claws behind his back. “What did you, uh, wanna talk about?”
If Ocellus was mad at him, she did an excellent job at hiding it. She looked as relaxed and cheerful as ever. “Take a seat,” she gestured to a small table and chair on the other side of the room. “I’d offer you some tea, but as you can see, there’s no stove and I forgot my flask.” She chuckled awkwardly, with Spike forcing himself to follow suit.
She had to be stalling for time. Whatever he’d done, it was clearly serious enough to warrant hesitation.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I just wanted to ask how you and Smoulder were getting along.”
No matter how softly those words were spoken, they still rammed into Spike like a buck to the gut. He tried his best to save face, though from the way Ocellus’ expression fell ever so slightly, it was obvious he failed.
“That bad, huh?”
“Well, sorta, but not really?” Rubbing his temple, he groaned in frustration. “There’s nothing wrong with her. I’m the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“You really wanna know? Fine. I’ll tell you. I have a crush on Smoulder. There, I said it. I know it’s stupid, ‘cause she’s not looking for a relationship. I’d stop feeling this way if I could, but I can’t.”
“Oh.” Ocellus stared off into the distance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Have you told her?”
“Of course I haven’t!” Spike snapped. “I can’t risk getting rejected! Not again.”
“I get that.” Ocellus pursed her lips, fidgeting with her own hooves. “Mind if I’m honest with you?”
Spike slumped back in his chair, waving his claw in dismissal. “Go ahead.”
“I don’t think I ever got over Smoulder rejecting me.”
He shot her a curious glance, taken aback by what she said.
“Don’t get me wrong, I respect her and she’s still one of my best friends. But, you know the drill; it’s not so easy to let go. I’m doing my best to take responsibility for my own healing, difficult as it is. I did have another reason for talking with you today.”
Spike said nothing. What in Equestria was Ocellus planning? Part of him felt like he should object, but that was the problem with intrusive feelings; seeking desperate fulfillment wherever the opportunity was.
“I’ve been talking to Principal Starlight about this since she’s still an acting Guidance Counselor. She suggested I explore ways for us to both be happy, and, well, I think to do that, I need to make sure she’s happy.”
“I don’t get it,” Spike said.
“Sorry, I know I’m babbling.” Straightening her posture, Ocellus murmured under her breath, shuffling the words in her mouth before continuing. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and heard the way she talks about you. Maybe I’m projecting, but this is the happiest I’ve seen her. Thanks to you, this railway’s become more successful than we could’ve ever dreamt. She finally has someone who’s just as passionate about trains as her, and I think you two resonate more than anyone else I’ve seen.
“She likes you, Spike. I think you two could make each other very happy. Let me talk to her. I can’t guarantee she’ll want to date you, but she deserves to know, regardless.”
“I dunno.” Rubbing his temples, Spike squirmed in his seat. “My head’s a mess right now, and Smoulder’s too special to risk pushing away.”
“I know this is rich coming from me, but I believe you two will still be close, whatever happens. You got Twilight to put in a good word for her; it’s only fair I do the same for you.”
Spike puffed out his cheeks, flexing his jaw as if he were chewing on the idea.
“All right,” he concluded. “I’m not expecting much, but if there’s a chance… I wanna be with her. She makes me feel wanted in a way no creature else does. I love Twilight, but not in the way I love Smoulder.”
“I get that.” Lifting her forehooves, she gestured for Spike to hug her, which he accepted.
“I’m sorry you have to do this. It’s not your responsibility to play matchmaker.”
“Don’t worry about it. This is helping me, too.”
Soon enough, Smoulder’s train arrived at the station. All her remaining friends were riding on the train, with Yona and Sandbar in particular cuddling in the front carriage. Spike bit back a groan of resentment. It wasn’t fair to take his own romantic frustrations out on them, jealous as he may have been.
“Ocellus, Spike!” Smoulder waved to them with enthused vigor, all but jumping out of the cab to greet them. If she had been taking smile classes from Pinkie Pie, the grin on her face would’ve surely gotten an A+; odd considering how cold Spike had been acting toward her. “Oh my gosh, I’ve got something awesome to tell you guys! You’re gonna love this.”
“Yeah?” Spike asked, placing his hands on his hips. He decided to allow himself the luxury of smiling, as the last thing he wanted to be was a buzzkill.
“You know how I wanted to work on mainline trains? Well, Twilight recommended me, just as you said she would, Spike. I got the job! I’m working the line between the Crystal Empire and Yakyakistan, and I’ll be doing a route learning test tomorrow! Yona and Sandbar are helping me with route knowledge, too! I’m so excited to get my claws on a full-sized locomotive’s controls!”
“And that’s not all!” Sandbar proclaimed as if announcing the winners to a game show. “Spike, Yona and I would like to formally invite both you and Twilight to Y.O.N.A fest, the Yakyakistan Hearth's Warming festival. Yona took me last year, and I figured it’s only fair you get to see it, too. After everything you’ve done for the railway these past few months, we agreed you deserve a treat.”
To say Spike was flabbergasted would’ve been an understatement. He could barely speak, frozen to the spot by the sudden raging blizzard of emotions. Were it not for Smoulder embracing him, he would’ve felt like tipping over and shattering into a hundred pieces.
“I think he accepts,” Ocellus giggled.
“Dragons never visit Yakyakistan,” added Yona, gleefully jogging on the spot. “Spike will be first. Yona make this best Y.O.N.A fest ever!”
he day finally arrived. The last of the Hearth's Warming special trains had concluded and the engines returned to storage until spring. Smoulder’s friends had already left for the Crystal Empire the previous night, leaving Spike with little to do with his free time. He’d been so fixated on the miniature railway these past few months, his previous hobbies had become dull by comparison.
He still had his assistant duties with Twilight, of course, but he likened that to a day job. It felt like every time he came close to recovering from rejection, something would come along and spark a new wave of intrusive thoughts. It was a toxic cycle.
Mercifully, a light knock on his bedroom door dispelled its current iteration. “Come in,” he said. With the temperatures plummeting, and worse to come once they reached the Crystal Empire, he’d dressed in a plain, red jacket and a matching scarf. He did have fancier clothes for winter on special occasions, but they had been made by Rarity; she was the last pony he wanted to think about.
“Morning, Spike,” Twilight said as she entered, carrying a large saddle bag stuffed full of books for the journey. “How are you holding up?”
“Eh, fine, I guess,” Spike said dismissively. Was there any point in detailing the tangled mess that was his psyche?
“Poor Spike. If you need to talk, you know I’m always here for you.”
“I know. I… have a lot to process right now. All I need is time.”
“That’s very mature of you. I’m impressed.”
Spike fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” he said instead.
“Anyway, have you finished packing? I have a couple more bags ready to carry, though I promise they’re light this time.”
Spike grunted out a bemused chuckle. Only now, after a romantic rejection, did she realize the difficulty in balancing suitcase towers.
They made casual train talk on their way to the station, speculating on what kind of engine Smoulder would be driving from the Crystal Empire. She’d deliberately chosen a shift to coincide with Spike’s arrival, according to her letter, but there was no guarantee he’d get time to chat.
It was ironic, in a way. Their branching lines in life had done Spike’s separation work for him, yet the old saying had proved true; absence did make the heart grow fonder. He was starting to wonder if he’d been cursed, played for a fool by some nebulous entity.
After five minutes of waiting at Ponyville station, their train arrived, hauled by a forest-green tank engine with a two-six-two wheel arrangement. This would take them to Canterlot, where they’d change for a cross-country express service to the Crystal Empire. The first leg of the trip remained uneventful, with Spike drifting between periods of sleep and study.
While Ponyville’s skies were clear, a front of dark clouds had started to develop over Canterlot. The Pegasi had clearly done their best to keep the worst of the weather clear from the line, but there was only so much they could do. The closer they got to the Crystal Empire, the wilder the elements would become, often requiring specialist unicorns to keep conditions favorable.
There would be no sleep for Spike once they left Canterlot. He could hardly sit still, let alone keep his eyes closed. Was Smoulder going to be okay out there? She was a great driver, of that there was no doubt. If they weren’t confident in her ability to navigate extreme weather, they wouldn’t have hired her to begin with.
Approaching the Crystal Empire interchange, conditions hadn’t improved, but they hadn’t gotten worse, either. Snow continued falling, coating everything that wasn’t covered by the Crystal Heart’s magical dome, though they weren’t enough for the locomotive to require a snowplow.
The moment they left the train, however, any doubt over the potential for travel chaos vanished. Every Timetable Spike could see had large swaths of services crossed out, the cancellations leaving the station packed full of stranded passengers, scrambling to find any means of traveling further north. The poor station hands and ticket sellers were being run ragged under the bombardment of questions.
Amidst all the chaos, Sandbar’s flamboyant choice of attire helped him stand out, acting as a fabulous beacon for his friends. At first glance, it wasn’t clear why they hadn’t boarded the train waiting for them on platform five, but the following conversation between Smoulder and a Gryphon made the problem evident.
“What in Tartarus were you thinking?!” Smoulder snapped, smoke pouring from her nostrils. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be speeding downhill like that? We could’ve jumped the rail! Speed limits are there for a reason!”
“I’m thinking we have a schedule to keep, kiddo,” the gryphon retorted with a condescending sneer. From his graying chest feathers and hunched posture, he looked old – Not Grandpa Gruff old, but old enough to witness Griffonstone’s decay first-hand. “I know what I’m doing. If we can’t keep time, then the passengers will start complaining. On a day like this, that’s the last thing we need.”
“Excuse me? What we need? I know I’m not that experienced, but I know enough about health and safety to say that a grumpy passenger is better than a dead one! Keeping time should never come at the expense of safety!”
“You kids today are too soft.” Scraping ear wax out with his talon, the griffon flicked it in Smoulder’s direction. “And you call yourself a dragon. I don’t care what they taught you at Twilight’s prissy little Friendship School, but when you’re a grown-up, you don’t get participation trophies. You’ve either got what it takes to do the job, or you quit. Simple as.”
Smoulder clenched her fists tight, her arms shaking as her billowing smoke reached fever pitch. Never mind the engine, she looked ready to blast the gryphon’s face full of more than just steam and cinders.
One look at her was all the excuse Twilight needed to intervene. Clearing her throat loudly, the gryphon snapped to attention.
“Ah-ha, P-princess Twilight,” he stammered, eyes blinking frantically. “I-It’s an honor to m-m-meet you!”
“Save it,” Twilight said sternly. “What is your name?”
The gryphon’s expression fell. “G-Grit Grinder, ma’am.”
“Well then, Grit Grinder. As Princess of Friendship, I officially relieve you of your role as a train engineer. I’ll be speaking with your boss personally.”
“What?! You can’t just-”
“Listen. I know Smoulder is young, but she has this job based on my personal recommendation. I won’t have any creature threaten the lives of the passengers, let alone Spike’s friends. Have I made myself clear?”
“But—”
“Have I made myself clear?”
“…Fine.” The gryphon scoffed, turning his nose up at Twilight. “Good luck running the train without me.”
As Grit Grinder marched off into the crowd with his beak held high, Smoulder slumped back against the engine’s running plate and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Wow. Thanks so much, Princess Twilight. You seriously saved my hide there.”
“Well, if I’m to rule Equestria, I have to look out for its citizens,” Twilight chuckled. “And you can just call me ‘Twilight’. A friend of Spike is a friend of mine.”
The mention of his name made Spike snap to attention and stop hyper-focusing on the drama. “I’m just glad you’re alright. That guy sounds like a real piece of work.”
“Oh, you have no idea. He would not shut up about the ‘Good Old Days’ of Griffonstone.” She glanced over her shoulder to Gallus, who, like the rest of her friends, had been watching intently. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Gallus shrugged. “I got enough of that from Grandpa Gruff. I can’t think of anything more boring.”
“So, what now?” Spike asked. “You’ll be driving the engine now, right?”
“I guess I am. But without someone to manage the fire, we won’t be going anywhere. Unless…”
Spike bit his lip.
Clapping her claws together, Smoulder bowed. “I know I’m throwing you in the deep end here, but could you fire the engine up to Griffonstone? This will be the only trip, I promise.”
Of all the questions. Until now, he’d only fired miniature locomotives. The principle would be the same, just on a considerably larger scale. Even then, this was a unique locomotive design he’d only read about; one that was articulated in two places, its wheels being held at either end of the boiler, below the water and coal tanks – a Neigher-Carrot type.
It would be a challenge, but one he’d been training for. It didn’t take a genius to realize how important this was, bringing Yona and her friends to an important cultural festival. Thinking back to all he’d achieved in his short life, both as Twilight’s assistant and as the Hero of the Crystal Empire, keeping a narrow-gauge steam engine topped up on coal and water couldn’t be that hard, could it?
He looked back to Twilight, and she nodded in return. All the confirmation he needed.
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you!” Grabbing Spike’s claws, Smoulder shook them with extra vigor. “I know the route well enough, so I’ll help guide you. One way or another, we are gonna make it to Y.O.N.A Fest.”
Smiling, Spike let go of Smoulder and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”
For the first time in months, Spike was happy to feel his heart racing. This was going to be the biggest challenge of his life so far, and yet he had not the slightest doubt about his capabilities. After all the hours he’d poured into the subject – both in theory and steam miniature practice – he knew he was ready.
Pulling the firebox lever, he saw that Smoulder had done a great job preparing for the run to come. Most of the firebox grate was already covered, with only a small dip around the front. Wasting no time, he got to work shovelling, taking as much coal as he could physically balance and dumping it just beyond the firebox door.
Smoulder, meanwhile, was leaning out of the right-hand window, watching as the last of the passengers squeezed on. Having never been to Yakyakistan, Spike had no frame of reference for how busy the route usually was, but even with twelve carriages and an engine as big as this, the service looked stacked to capacity.
The guard’s shrill whistle cut through the platform chatter, announcing their departure.
“Right away,” said Smoulder, sounding the engine’s whistle. Rolling the screw reverser all the way forward, she tugged the regulator handle down bit by bit. Suddenly, the engine lurched, rapidly chuffing as its wheels spun in place. “Easy does it now…”
Spike held his breath. Soon enough, Smoulder got the engine under control, winding back the reverser revolution by revolution as the engine regained its composure.
“Might wanna close the firebox doors, Spike,” she said. “We’ll need all the heat we can get to get this thing up the first hill.”
“Right, sorry.” Once he had a free moment, he carefully leant out of the left-hand side window, turning his attention to the line ahead. Already, the weather was taking a turn for the worst. Even with the ash and clinker ejected from the chimney, the freezing polar winds bit at his face.
For the moment, visibility was okay. The mountainside shielded the train from the worst of the arctic blasts, but even without route knowledge, he gathered this wouldn't last forever. He could only hope that the signalling was up to par.
Glancing back inside, a nasty surprise awaited him. The water gauges had somehow gotten fuller! How in Equestria had the level risen on its own? Had he accidentally turned on the injectors? That shouldn’t have been possible. Panicking, he double and triple checked everything, fiddling with the injectors back and forth
“Careful not to overdo it, Spike,” Smoulder warned. “We’re starting the climb, so the water’s gonna flow back a little. Just make sure it doesn’t cross the red line, and we’ll be safe.”
Looking closer, Spike breathed a sigh of relief, placing his claw flat against his chest. The level was close, but as suggested, still below the threshold. “Should I add a little more, just to be safe?”
“Just a little, sure. Be careful not to overfill it.”
That much was he aware of. Gently, he moved the steam injector to the ‘on’ position, holding it for ten seconds before shutting it again. With this taken care of, he returned his attention to the fire, feeding extra servings of coal to wherever the fire was lowest, and then some. The steeper the line got, the further Smoulder opened the regulator, constantly winding the reverser backwards and forwards to match the cutoff with the incline.
Higher and higher they climbed, twisting and turning through long tunnels and narrow mountain passes, all while the weather continued to worsen. Before he knew it, visibility had reduced to almost zero, the way ahead whited out under the raging snow storm. A familiar aura of purple magic helped mitigate some of the line’s snow drifts, but Twilight was still just one pony. It would take an army of unicorns to clear this kind of weather. Many times Spike found himself watching the way ahead, only to get a face full of snow.
His heart was hammering, every muscle in his body tense and thick beads of sweat drenching his face despite the cold. Every now and again, he tried using dragon fire to melt the falling snow, hoping to gain some extra visibility. Yet the storm would not be beaten so easily.
This was tougher than he’d thought. Every other minute he was shovelling coal, satisfying the engine’s voracious appetite. His muscles were aching like never before, but he refused to give up. Smoulder was counting on him — they were all counting on him. This was no worse than she’d had to do on her previous return trip.
Her expression, by contrast, remained neutral. Her eyes flicked between the speed indicator and the pressure gauges, constantly making minor adjustments here and there, but otherwise remained concentrated. The conditions could hardly be worse, and still it wasn’t enough to break her. Even when Spike couldn’t see the speed restrictions covered in snow, she held her own, knowing exactly where to slow down.
Smoulder was a dragon with a photographic memory, identifying the smallest of landmarks to instantly conjure a mental image of where they were. Even when the signals failed, requiring direct permission from a Yak signal worker at the passing loop, she kept the engine going, crawling along metre by metre until they could finally return to line speed.
She wouldn’t give up, and neither would he. Besides, if he were honest, he was starting to enjoy the challenge of satiating this great metal beast. No matter how much it rocked and rolled along the line, the engine stayed the course, gripping the rails with all its might.
“The Smoke’s getting a little thick there, Spike,” Smoulder commented as they reached the line’s summit. “You can ease off now that we’re going downhill; give the fire some room to breathe.”
“Roger that!” Spike hoped he hadn’t upset the engine through his over-eagerness. As Smoulder slammed the regulator shut and worked the vacuum brakes, he threw on the blower to keep up the draft that drew the fire forwards. This was where working on miniature engines really came in handy: peeking inside the firebox every now and again to ensure it was still consistent. Other than that, the water level was his biggest concern.
Amidst everything, he’d lost track of time. It felt like they’d been travelling for hours. When all he saw around him was white, he couldn’t be sure. Despite his excessive coaling, there was plenty more left in the bunker behind him, so perhaps they hadn’t progressed as far as expected?
Then, after rounding a long horse-shoe curve that led into a spiral descending tunnel, the storm finally abated, revealing the winter wonderland of the valley below. Though the tree line was thinning at this elevation, the broad sparkling lake reflected the light of the falling winter sun, highlighting the snow-covered greenery and large rock formations around it.
It was a postcard-perfect scene that took Spike’s breath away. No wonder Smoulder wanted this job so bad. Getting to see this once was incredible enough, let alone on a regular basis. To think, all this had come about because of Twilight’s friendship school, introducing dragons to a new way of life – his way of life; the way of cooperation and friendship. Even if his actions contributed indirectly, his steadfast support of Twilight made it all possible.
Without him, he would’ve never met Ocellus, or Sandbar, or Yona, and especially not Smoulder. And this was to say nothing about his efforts in aid of Dragon Lord Ember.
Yet it was here, on the footplate of a neigher-carrot articulated locomotive, he felt like he was making a difference. Not in the Crystal Empire, not in the Dragon lands, but here, keeping the raging fire alight deep inside the engine’s belly.
Then, at long last, he spied the towering statues of legendary Yak warriors. They had made it. Illuminated from behind by the last rays of the setting sun, their train slid under the shelter of the station’s canopy, coming to a complete stop on platform two.
At last, he could relax. Hopping off the footplate, Spike wiped the sweat from his brow and slumped back against the running plate. His claws were filthy, his face was marked with soot, and he was breathing heavily from exertion.
And loved it.
This was the mark of a real locomotive engineer, a professional who lived for every flicker of flames and puff of steam.
Focusing on his claws, he didn’t see Smoulder jump to him from the footplate, throwing her arms around him to snatch him in a hug.
“Oh my gosh, Spike, you were amazing!” she exclaimed, but it was what she did next that truly caught him off guard. She planted a long, sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best enby a dragon could ask for!”
“Uhhhh…” She had done it alright. She had broken his brain, stunning him under the barrage of affection.
Her eyes going wide, Smoulder blushed bright red and let go. “Oh, right, ‘ask first.’ Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”
“What?” Spike blinked. Did she mean what he thought she meant?
Fiddling with her claws, Smoulder closed her eyes and bowed. “Will you go out with me?”
“Go out? As in, a date?” Spike smiled. Taking her claw, Spike leant over and kissed it gently. “Funny. I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
If the mountain scenery had been beautiful, then the look of joy that blossomed across Smoulder’s face was simply stunning. Pumping her free fist in the air, she let out an ecstatic “Woohoo!” before nuzzling his cheek.
“Well, what do we have here?”
Spike looked up to see Twilight approaching, with Smoulder’s friends not far behind. All were looking at him with some degree of amazement, save for Ocellus. It didn’t take a genius to recognise her smile as fake.
Looking back to Smoulder, she nodded. She, too, knew what was going on, and what Spike had to do. So, breaking from their embrace, he walked over and hugged Ocellus.
“Thank you,” he said, gently. “You’re one amazing friend, and I want you in my life.”
Ocellus hugged him back, her chitin glowing the bright aura of familial love. No matter where life took him, Spike would always be grateful to the one changeling who, despite her own heartache, did everything she could to help him to find happiness. He hoped - no, knew - that she would find her own in the future.
“Twilight, everyone,” Spike said, straightening his posture and clearing his throat. “I’d like to announce that I have a girlfriend, and her name is Smoulder.”
Y.O.N.A fest was amazing. Being a closed off culture was something all of Smoulder’s friends understood, to one degree or another, so to see them open their gates and share their traditions—for the third year running, no less—was fascinating.
Sandbar and Yona showed Spike the markets, in particular the stall run by Yona’s sister, Yixa. There, Yona treated Spike to the gift of a new winter coat, a little tradition she’d started with Sandbar. After this, they met a female gryphon—Gallus’ aunt, Gruella—selling gryphon scones topped with traditional Yakyakistan fruit. As it turned out, the recipe trade from the previous year had been a roaring success, so much so that it became a permanent edition.
Even Ocellus found solace, bathing in the radiating love of others while treating herself to all kinds of different foods, bumping into a few former hive mates along the way.
After indulging in a few craft lessons, they all attended the traditional folk rock concert, bookmarking the end of the first day.
Sitting back, claw in claw, Spike gazed longingly into his girlfriend’s eyes. Of his love for her, he had no doubt, but there was one thing still lingering on his mind.
“Hey, Smoulder?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you living in the Crystal Empire now? Since your job means you’re working this train route.”
Smoulder pondered that for a moment. “I’m just a seasonal extra, but for now, yeah. That doesn’t mean I won’t be driving trains back to Canterlot every now and again, though.”
“Oh.” Spike's expression fell. “So… how are we gonna do this? The relationship, I mean. I’d love to move in with you, but I’m still Twilight’s assistant. She needs me, and I can’t abandon her when Celestia and Luna are about to retire.”
“I was thinking about that, too,” Smoulder replied, squeezing Spike’s claw. “Even if I move away for a more permanent job, I’ll be driving to and from Canterlot plenty often. We can see each other there. Besides, I’ll always return to Ponyville on my days off, helping the Miniature Railway Club. Just ‘cause I’m gonna graduate from Friendship School doesn’t mean I’ll abandon every creature else – least of all you.
“Trust me, Spike, we’ll make it work. I’ll write to you every day I’m not in town, and so long as you keep the little trains running, you’ll have something to remember me by.”
Shuffling closer, Spike rested his head on his girlfriend’s shoulder. “Thanks, Smoulder. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid. This is my first real relationship, and I’ve got a lot of stuff I still need to work through.”
“Take all the time you need.” Chuckling, Smoulder booped Spike on the nose. “I love you, Spike.”
“I love you, too.”
As the heavy drumming on stage thundered to life, Spike could finally relax, his firebox heart satisfied for now.
