> The Princess of Redemption
>  by Cassette
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1. Heavy Hangs the Head with the Crown
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wind blew harshly around the royal statuary garden, whisking brown and yellow leaves to-and-fro in miniature whirlwinds about the damp ground.  It was only a few weeks since the running of the leaves, and the evidence of that was scattered all over the lawns and pathways, clumped up in ramshackle piles under privet hedges, in the shadow of the statues, or anywhere else they could find reprieve from the harsh wind.  The sky was a moody grey; not quite yet raining but making no empty threat of it either. 

Princess Twilight Sparkle faintly mused that she really should send a couple of the royal groundsponies in the garden’s direction armed with rakes as she lightly nudged a small clump from the path in front of her.  She trotted along further, her hoofsteps creating the familiar clip-clop noise on the flagstones that was audible even over the rushing breeze.  Behind her, there came a second, much more padded and difficult to detect sound of a creature following behind; her royal guard, obligated to accompany her wherever she went whilst in Canterlot and often beyond.  The princess threw a glance over her shoulder.  Gallus was some ten feet behind her, in full Canterlot military regalia.  His armor was polished to a high shine, so much so that it was practically a mirror, and in one clawed hand he carried a shield bearing the royal crest, in the other a spear, its shining tip pointed skyward.  Twilight noticed that he did not allow the shaft of the spear to touch the ground, nor the heavy wood and steel shield to fall slackly by his side.  Whether this was because of his seemingly endless respect for the tools of the crown entrusted to him or simply his determination to embody the ‘seen and not heard’ virtue that royal guards are known for she wasn’t sure.  She paused in her late afternoon constitutional to face him properly. 

“Thank you so much for accompanying me on my walk Gallus.” She smiled, knowing full well that he’d had no choice in the matter. 

If the griffon in any way had any qualms about being out in the cold, he made no sign of it, or of any other emotion for that matter.  Gallus was a griffon that took his job very, very seriously.  Twilight remembered the ‘too cool for friendship school’ young creature that she had met when she first threw open the doors of her institution, and there were few similarities with the griffon that she regarded now.  Gone were his sarcasm, snide glances and huffy body language, replaced with pure stoicism.  His body had changed too, as years of physical fitness, not to mention guard training and boot camp had caused him to bulk up considerably.  Even though his armor, Twilight could see his biceps bulging as they strained against the weight of his equipment.  His feathery blue coat was still the same of course, though now it was punctuated by specks of grey, particularly around his jaw, giving the impression he was sporting a beard.  Quite distinguished, Twilight thought, not that she was much of a judge of such things.  By way of a reply, he merely gave a low, slow nod, his feathered helm momentarily tipping towards her.  Then his eyes returned to their seemingly glazed dead-ahead gaze; looking at nothing but observing everything.  He paused in his trailing of her, maintaining a professional distance between them.  Twilight turned her head and proceeded on her walk with a small chuckle.  This boy was good. 

Twilight continued down the path, the cold air whipping at her coat, forcing her to suppress a shiver.  She allowed her gaze to trace over the various statues she passed by, almost feeling guilty that she wasn’t treating each one with the reverence it truly deserved.  She passed by Mistmane, Sonabula, Rockhoof, et all the pillars.  She gave the Starswirl carving the tiniest of nods as she passed, a superstitious acknowledgement of his impact on her life.  She pressed on, knowing exactly where she was headed, both eager to get it over with and dreading it in equal measure.  She passed by Celestia, Luna and herself (with a minute eyeroll).  The face on her statue had been so bad they’d had to place a book in front of it.  Not that that wasn’t accurate.   

Then she arrived at her destination, Gallus, as ever, close behind.  This was a circular section of the grounds, surrounded by tall hedges, divided at various points by yet more pathways that led off to other sections of the garden.  In the center of the lawn there stood the largest statue they’d passed by yet.  It dominated this portion of the garden, and Twilight had had it moved here especially, in an attempt to keep it away from prying eyes.  True, there were undoubtedly places where it could be more out of sight – the rarely used castle dungeons leapt readily to mind – but somehow the princess couldn’t bring herself to do that, not to this statue.  Because that was the thing.  It wasn’t a statue.  Not really. 

“Hello again.” Twilight murmured to the petrified forms of Tirek, Chrysalis and Cozy Glow.  Naturally, her greeting was not reciprocated, as they remained frozen in the poses that they struck the day they were turned to stone, Tirek cowering, Cozy Glow in wide eyed jaw dropped horror, and Chrysalis lunging forward in attack, ever defiant.  Twilight made an effort to visit every month or so, and also scheduled regular cleanings for the three, but it did little to alleviate her guilt.  She was painfully aware of something Discord had once said to her: ‘Just because I’m made of stone doesn’t mean I can’t hear every word Celestia says...’ 

She gazed up at them in silence for the longest time, her eyes tracing every line, every shadow, somehow wordlessly begging, pleading with them to recognize that in some way she was just as much a prisoner of this as they were.  She snorted humorlessly.  She highly doubted they’d see it that way.  If the shoe were on the other hoof, she sure as heck wouldn’t. 

Gallus took in the scene, his ruler once again eyeballing the statue of the three villains.  The mean three, some of the guards called them, in hushed tones in out of the way places such as the armory or mess hall.  Whilst Gallus didn’t disagree per-se, it scarcely did justice to the scope of their evil.  He wondered why his princess tortured herself so, and often wished he could ease her burden.  But that was a thought unbecoming of a royal guard.  His job was just that, to guard the princess, to protect her from harm and to obey her commands, nothing more.  To ask her how she was feeling, or if there was anything he could do to help?  That would surely amount to speaking out of turn, punishable by disciplinary action.  Still though... 

He had long since stopped mentally preparing himself for what he’d do if, for whatever reason, the petrification spell were suddenly to fail and the three were somehow back and thirsty for royal blood.  Rush forward, interpose himself between Twilight and the three, bark an order at the princess to get to safety (for immediately life threatening situations was one of the few occurrences by where guards were permitted to issue commands to their monarch) and hold them off while Twilight made good her escape, at the cost of his own life if necessary.  The thought meant little to him; he knew what he’d signed up for when he took the job and wouldn’t trade the sense of pride he got from it for anything, certainly not his own personal safety.  Though now he’d run the scenario through his mind umpteen times, he began to wonder if there wasn’t some other kind of attack going on here, one that he couldn’t see, much less protect his princess from.  One that was slowly but surely eroding her mental health.  The thought brought a chill to his bones, but even if it were true, what could he do about it?  Tell her to stop doing this to herself?  That she’d been right to turn them to stone?  Tell her that she should deposit the wretched trio in Tartarus and to never give them a second thought?  No. No, it wasn’t his place.  The best thing he could do would be to be what he was; a guard.  If she were to ever ask him though... 

“Do you think I made the right call here, Gallus?” The princess’ words sliced through his thoughts like a razor.  “With them, I mean.” 

A panicked look passed over Gallus’ features.  He wasn’t used to being asked such a direct question by the princess.  Fortunately, Twilight’s attention was still focused on the statue.  He quickly regained his composure, even as his mind raced for an adequate reply.  For several agonizing seconds the only sound was the rushing of the wind and the faint, almost imperceptible pitter-patter of the first few drops of rain.  Gallus knew he’d waited too long when Twilight turned her head over her shoulder, looking at him directly, her eyes pained and pleading. 

“With respect, your Majesty,” He began, his voice low, “it is not the place of a lowly palace guard to question the decisions of his ruler.” 

Twilight’s eyes closed, and she allowed her head to hang slightly.  Gallus too closed his eyes, though more out of frustration than sorrow.  That wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.  He blinked his eyes back open and shot a look that could kill at the frozen reprobates.  How committed to friendship could a creature have to be to feel any pity whatsoever for these three?  How inherently good could one pony be to allow their much-deserved fate to eat her up inside?  He sighed silently.  He supposed that that was why she was friendship incarnate, not to mention ruler of Equestria, and he was not.  Then something strange happened.  Some of the youthful defiance he’d once had, a healthy disregard for the rules reared back up inside of him as he broke protocol.  He quietly strode forward to her, closing the gap between them until he was at a comfortable conversation distance.  As though she were a friend.  A friend who needed to hear a comforting word or two.  As stealthy as he was, he could only muffle the clanking of his armor and equipment so much, and Twilight looked up, the sorrow in her face replaced with intrigue. 

Come on.  Give her something. 

“However, I will say this Ma’am,” He said, looking her earnestly in the eye, “I strongly doubt that there is a stallion, mare or foal in all of Equestria that thinks that you made the ‘wrong’ call.” 

Twilight looked stunned for a moment, but only a moment.  Then a thin smile spread across her face.  Gallus didn’t show it, but his chest swelled with pride that he’d managed to alleviate her worry, even if only temporarily.   

“Thank you, Gallus,” The princess spoke softly.  “Sometimes I wonder...” 

“Think nothing of it, Ma’am.”  

The rain began to pick up the pace, even as Twilight held out a large purple wing to gauge the frequency.  She tutted lightly.  Gallus made no move, waiting patiently for instructions from his princess. 

“Perhaps we’d better head back,” she said finally.  “Funny, I don’t remember there being a shower scheduled today.” 

“As you wish, ma’am,” Gallus replied, stepping to one side, and raising his spear to attention.  Twilight stared at him for a second. 

“You know, you don’t have to be quite so...formal around me Gallus.”  She said with a smile. 

“Ma’am?” 

“After all, we’re old friends.  I’ve known you since I was your old headmare.” 

Gallus once again felt his chest swell.  This time he fancied that his chest feathers ruffled out, and he thanked Celestia for his breastplate. 

“It is...” he began, adjectives temporarily failing him, “...extremely kind of you to say so Ma’am.  I look back upon my times at your school of friendship as some of the happiest of my life.” 

Twilight stared at him, her lips parting ever so slightly in surprise.  She hadn’t expected such vulnerability from such a seemingly battle-hardened griffon. 

“I only hope that through loyal service that I can in some small way repay you for your gift.” 

Twilight smiled.  There was that rigid formality again.  It had been hardwired into him, and she had a pretty good idea by who. 

“Walk beside me on the way back, will you please Gallus?” She said, trotting past him.  “Friends walk together, not following behind at a distance.” 

A twinge of ice ran through the griffon’s blood.  Protecting his regent was one thing, but being friends?  Holding an actual conversation?  As though they were equals?  That made him balk. 

“A...as you wish, Ma’am.” He stumbled over his words, before awkwardly striding up beside her.  His mind searched frantically for something to say but came up empty.  Fortunately, she put him out of his misery by speaking first. 

“It was my brother who trained you in the guards, wasn’t it?” She said, a sly smile playing about her face.  Gallus glanced in her direction and caught her look.  It wasn’t really a question, though something told him that his demeanor had already given him away as a Shining Armor protégé, as though she didn’t know it already.  For the first time in their excursion, he cracked a smile of his own. 

“Indeed, ma’am,” He replied, beginning to feel more at ease.  “I had the honor of training and graduating under his Lordship’s tutelage.  As a matter of fact, it was he whom recommended me for this position.” 

“Really?” Twilight feigned surprise.  “Very impressive.  He wouldn’t have chosen just any-creature for this job; he must have seen something outstanding in you.” 

Gallus lost a short battle with a goofy grin. 

“I couldn’t possibly comment, Ma’am.” he said, momentarily looking away. 

“Though I will say this,” he continued, “his Lordship did communicate to me in no uncertain terms both the national and personal importance of this role.” 

“I bet he did.” Twilight replied dryly.  That sounded like her brother.  She dreaded to think about the intensity of that particular conversation.  No wonder Gallus couldn’t be stiffer if he’d had a broom handle inserted up the back of his armor. 

“Indeed so, ma’am,” Gallus continued, seemingly oblivious to Twilight’s faint exasperation.  “It was a difficult learning experience under his Lordship, but one that I cherish.  Now, every time I put on this plate and pick us this shield and spear, I strive to live up to his shining example.” 

A second passed, and Gallus’ eyes widened slightly at his unintentional wordplay. 

“If you’ll, uh, pardon the pun, ma’am.” 

Twilight giggled, raising a hoof to her mouth as she did so, in a royal manner. 

The walk back to Canterlot castle was an uneventful, if sodden affair.  Twilight tried her best to shield herself from the incoming torrent with an outspread wing, with limited success.  By the end Gallus was trying to find some modicum of shelter under his shield, with equally ineffective results.  Nevertheless, their walk back together had been a pleasant one; Gallus seemed to be finally loosening up.  Twilight would have been lying if she said he made conversation as effortlessly as one of her old Ponyville friends, but he undoubtedly seemed more at ease than when the walk started.  They’d talked about the time at the friendship school, traded a couple of ‘remember when’ stories back and forth and Gallus had even admitted to a misdemeanor or two from his old school days.  It made her feel a lot better after her self-imposed bi-monthly guilt trip.  She frowned as the memory of why she’d insisted on going out in the first place bubbled back to the surface. 

By the time the dark silhouette of the east wing of Canterlot castle was upon them, they were both soaked to the skin.  The tall spires cut angular jet-black shapes into the dark blue sky, and a distant cloud was briefly illuminated white by a flash of lightning, followed several seconds later by a low rumble of thunder.  They approached the drawbridge, and Gallus stepped forward, lifted his spear a few inches, and brought the shaft down hard, striking the cobblestones with a loud clack.  Somewhere on top of the battlements they saw a head, bedecked in the same helmet the griffon was wearing, look over the edge and then disappear.  A few moments later, the portcullis began to ascend, accompanied by a loud rhythmic clacking.  As it rose, Twilight turned her head towards her companion. 

“Thank you once again for coming with me,” She smiled.  “I know it isn’t the most exciting assignment following me around the gardens.” 

“Not at all, Ma’am,” Gallus replied, his eyes fixed on the gradually retracting portcullis.  “It was a most enjoyable time.  I mean that with all sincerity.” 

Twilight’s smile broadened.  

“Though to tell you the truth, I will be glad to get back inside,” He continued.  “This isn’t the kind of weather one wants to be carrying this around in.” 

He gestured to his metal tipped spear.  Twilight simply stared.  Gallus allowed his comment to hang in the damp air for a moment before he threw the princess a sideways glance along with a wry smile.  His look caused her to erupt into riotous laugher, and not the understated, practiced, Canterlot titter either, full-on guffaws.  Seeing his princess like this proved to be too much for Gallus, and he too descended into a deep belly laugh. 

“Oh goodness” Twilight choked through the laughter, “It’s a horrible thought, but...” 

She trailed off as the mirth once again took hold. 

“I’d be,” Gallus spluttered, laughing more at Twilights’ laughing than his own joke, “I’d be deep fried griffon!” 

Their laughter echoed around the battlements as the portcullis locked into place.

 **************************************

Twilight stepped out of the en-suite and into the royal bedchamber, levitating a towel to her mane as she did so.  Her room was meticulously tidy, something that Twilight would admit was much easier to maintain now that she had her own personal maid.  A four-poster bed with silk sheets that looked as though they’d been ironed onto the mattress dominated the room, complete with semi-opaque drapes held in place with purple cords.  At the foot of the bed she kept a large oak keepsake chest, the dark wood so highly polished one could see their reflection in it.  Opposite that, there was a modest (for Twilight) bookcase, a place where she kept her currently ‘active’ books, tomes that were too important to be left in the library, volumes that were of sentimental value for one reason or another, or texts that she needed to refer to too often to warrant keeping them far from hoof.  The books were arranged in no particular order, a fact that mildly irked Twilight from time to time, but as the shelf was constantly shifting in its contents she’d long since given up trying to maintain any kind of catalogue.  Besides, despite there being no system in place, she knew exactly where each book was.   

Her mane having been dried as much as the fluffy towel would allow, she stretched out her wings and magically dragged it across her feathers, pulling as much water as she could from them, before carelessly tossing it on the corner of the foot of her bed.  She strode across the room and took a seat at the stool of her dressing table.  As she used a ping from her horn to illuminate the inset gems around the edge of the mirror, she saw her own disheveled reflection staring back at her.  With a tiny ‘hmph’ she levitated her hairbrush and began to attack the tangled mess that was her mane.  The dresser was the one part of the room where everything wasn’t cleared away – the surface of the table was littered with perfume bottles, mane products, brushes, a pair of tweezers, a hoof file, a pair of eyelash curlers – anything a hardworking princess could possibly need.  That was what Rarity had said when she gifted Twilight most of the products, anyway.  Twilight had never really been a pony that cared that much about her appearance, though now that she had been the ruler of Equestria for several years, she had to admit, now that mandatory public appearances could arrive at the drop of a hat, it certainly paid to have the best beauty products bits could buy.  Around the edge of the mirror, Twilight had pasted numerous photographs of her closest friends.  There was Applejack and Rainbow Dash running the leaves, Fluttershy tending to her sanctuary whilst discord loafed around in the background, Starlight Glimmer in her headmare outfit, a magazine cutout with accompanying article of Rarity accepting Manehatten’s coveted ‘Pony to Watch’ award, a picture of Pinkie and her family at the rock farm last Harth’s Warming, and a baby picture of Spike.  There were more, of course, too many to mention, she was the Princess of Friendship after all, and they were threatening to obscure the mirror in its entirety.  Perhaps she should invest in a photo-album, she mused as she tugged at a particularly stubborn strand of purple hair. 

As she brushed and her mind wandered, and the rain beat with increasing intensity against the pane of her window directly behind her, she heard a light knock at her bedroom door.  She glanced over, the door right next to the entrance to her bathroom and beheld a foggy silhouette through the frosted glass.  Though she couldn’t make out any of the features clearly, she could tell one thing; whoever it was, they were standing on their hind legs.  The princess smiled.  Spike. 

“Come in,” Twilight called, returning her attention to her mane.  The door flung open and Spike stepped into the room.  He paused to gently close it behind him, before he closed the distance between himself and the bed in two strides before perching himself on Twilight’s trunk and letting out a sigh of exhaustion.  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and supported his head in his hands.  Twilight glanced over her withers at him.  He’d certainly grown up in the last few moons, blossoming into a full-fledged adult dragon.  He was barrel chested, clearly defined pectorals and abs visible underneath his shimmering purple scales.  His legs too had become more muscular; though they weren’t often visible due to the fact that the young dragon had taken to wearing pants.  For reasons of self-consciousness, Twilight supposed, though they were his only extravagance, the rest of him was just as naked as he’s always been when he was a child.  His feet had lengthened and broadened and so too the claws that protruded from each toe; inches long and razor sharp and currently worrying Twilight’s carpet.  His green spines had lengthened, and now curved backwards away from his skull, possibly due to his tendency to sweep them back with one hand when he was embarrassed, or pleased with himself.  His tail had followed suit with the rest of his body, now engorged and muscular, presently draped limply across his thighs.  His wings were perhaps the part of him that had changed the least; they still seemed impossibly small for his body, how he was able to stay airborne was a mystery to the princess. 

“How was the changeling Kingdom?” Twilight enquired, spinning around in her chair.  “You were gone longer than I thought you’d be.” 

“Tiring.” Spike sighed.  “I had some issues to iron out between the Kingdom and the Dragon lands.  I can give you a full oral report if you want.” 

“Go on.” 

Spike massaged his temples as he thought. 

“A group of Changeling youths infiltrated the Dragon lands and were playing at being dragons for a week or two.” He grumbled.  “They got caught when the activities turned to lava diving.” 

“Goodness!” Twilight exclaimed.  “No creature was hurt, were they?” 

“No,” Spike waved a hand in the air as though to ward off unpleasant imagery.  “Fortunately, they weren’t stupid enough to actually try it for themselves.” 

Twilight untensed in relief. 

“But, when they refused, the jig was pretty much up.  They got found out, and suddenly the whole thing looks like a case of espionage.” 

Twilight nodded grimly.  She could see how it might look like that. 

“Of course, Dragonlord Ember saw what it was from the very beginning; a bunch of kids who think that being a dragon is the coolest thing in the world.” 

“For some reason,” he added.  “But of course, there was a vocal dragon minority that was convinced that this was an act of war, blah blah blah, and suddenly I have to step in to liaise with Ember and Thorax, investigate the younglings, set up meetings, find a solution that satisfies both parties and ensure that an appropriate punishment is metered out.” 

He finished, allowing his palms to slip over his eyes. 

“I see,” Twilight smiled.  “And what punishment did you settle on?” 

Spike looked up from his claws. 

“Grounding.” 

“Classic.” Twilight’s smile broadened.  “And you’re definitely sure that’s all it was?  Little Changelings wanting to play at being dragons?” 

“Ohhhh yeah,” Spike drawled, leaning back against Twilight’s bed.  “I conducted interviews with all the kids.  Let’s just say I was left with no doubt in my mind that they’re really, really into dragons.” 

“I see,” Twilight suppressed a giggle.  Spike allowed his back to arch over the back of Twilight’s hoofboard until his head rested on her quilt and he found himself staring at roof of her bed.  Finding it far from comfortable, he hoisted himself back into a sitting position. 

“And then of course I had the flight home in this weather, and I’m exhausted.” 

“Well, that’s a shame,” Twilight sighed, setting her mane brush on her dresser and levitating a parchment scroll from a drawer.  “I was going to ask you to take another job in Yakyakistan.” 

Spike’s face crumpled like a paper bag filled with paper bags.  There was no way he was flying all the way to the mountainous tundra that was Yakyakistan anytime soon.  He’d earned a little break, darn it.  Besides, there was nothing there besides surly Yaks, vicious arctic beasts, and...oh.  Oh, hold on. 

“Yakyakistan?” He repeated, looking up. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll get somepony else to...” 

“Love to.” Spike cut his adoptive sister off, standing and plucking the scroll from her magic.  Twilight looked up at him as he unfurled the paper.  In her sitting position he towered above her, and she got a view of his enthusiastic expression.  Why was he suddenly so keen to go to Yakyakistan when a second ago he looked like he was about to fall asleep right in her bed?  She knew he took pride in his work, but there was something else going on here.  What could there possibly be up in the mountains of interest to the young dragon?  There was only Yaks and...oh.  Of course. 

“Zoning dispute, huh?” Spike murmured, scanning the scant details on the page.  “Twilight, you give me the most glamourous jobs.” 

The dragon smirked at her before returning to his impromptu chair.  Twilight narrowed her eyes and smirked a smirk of her own. 

“I’m sensing a certain eagerness from you to go Yakyakistan, Spike.” 

“Hmm?” Spike glanced at her, his face suddenly feigning innocence.  “No, not particularly.  I just love my job is all.” 

“Riiiight”, Twilight elongated the word, accusingly.  “And it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Rarity’s over there, would it?  Trying to break a new branch of Rarity 4 U into the region?” 

“What?” Spike’s innocent act went into overdrive.  “No, no, the thought hadn’t even occurred to me.” 

“Sure.” 

“Buuut, now that you mention it, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to catch up with ol’...  what did you say her name was?” 

“Rarity.” Twilight deadpanned. 

“Rarity, right, right.” Spike repeated with a click of his fingers.  “You have so many friends it’s tough to keep track.  Gosh, I haven’t spoken to her in moons.” 

He paused, his eyes staring into space. 

“Be nice to see her again.” He said, the act dropping for just a moment.  Twilight raised an eyebrow at him, causing him to instantly become fascinated with the scroll once more. 

“You’re not fooling anypony, you know.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The dragon sniffed. 

“Sure you don’t,” Twilight teased.  “So I guess you won’t be taking the Rarity-themed plush toy that I know you still have with you?” 

The oblivious act dropped from the dragon’s features completely, replaced with mild annoyance. 

“You shut your horse mouth about Rare-bear.” 

Spike’s words hung in the air for a moment.  For a second the dragon wondered if he’d crossed a line.  Then, mercifully, the Princess began to giggle.  Spike breathed a sigh of relief, before letting out a chuckle of his own. 

“A fine way to speak to your Princess,” the mare laughed.  “I could have you reprimanded, you know.” 

“Perfectly normal way to speak to your big sister though,” Spike countered. 

“Yes,” Twilight conceded, regaining her composure.  “Yes, I suppose it is.” 

A silence hung over the bedroom for a few moments.  Spike took a seat on Twilight’s trunk once again and looked at his adoptive sister, taking in her unkempt appearance for the first time. 

“What happened to you?  You haven’t been out in this have you?” Spike broke the silence, with a nod in the direction of the window. 

“I just took a walk,” Twilight returned her attention to the mirror, now her turn to play the innocent game. 

Spike eyeballed the back of her head, knowingly.  The sound of the rain on the window filled the room as the dragon considered his next utterance.   

“Not the statue garden again?” 

Twilight said nothing, merely continuing to fiddle with her mane, though her silence spoke volumes.  Spike sighed. 

“You need to stop torturing yourself.” Spike said, as gently as he could.  He said it not as a command, but a simple statement of fact.  Twilight once again spun around in her chair. 

“And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?” She snapped, anger creeping into her voice.  “I live here in a literal palace, while three creatures, one of them a foal, are encased in stone in my very grounds-” 

“Three creatures,” Spike cut her off calmly, “who threatened the lives and welfare of every creature in Equestria.  They didn’t give you much choice.” 

“But now,” Twilight rasped, “now I have a choice.” 

Spike leaned back, extending his legs and crossing them. 

“So...what?  You’re gonna un-petrify them?  And then what?  Return them to Tartarus?” 

“I...I don’t know.  No... I doubt that Tartarus could hold them, especially if they’re working together...” 

There was another long pause.  Spike could see that his sister was hurting, but there was little he could do.  Why did she have to take on the weight of this all by herself?  She already had enough to deal with, having borne the responsibilities of both of her predecessors at the same time.  She just had to obsess over this one little – not even a mistake – a necessary unpleasantry, and she was letting it tear herself up inside.  Heavy hangs the head with the crown, he supposed. 

“You want to rehabilitate them,” He said, finally.  “Redeem them.” 

“I’ve done it before,” Twilight spoke softly.  “Discord, Starlight, Sunset, Tempest...” 

“You can’t save everycreature!” Now it was Spike’s turn to snap.  He stood and placed his clawed hands on Twilight’s shoulders.   

“Not everypony can be redeemed,” his voice softened.  He hadn’t meant to raise it in the first place, but seeing Twilight like this hurt him too.  “Some are beyond help.” 

Twilight looked up at him, tears forming in her impossibly large eyes. 

“I wouldn’t be much of a Princess of Friendship if I didn’t at least try.” 

Spike sighed and paced to the window.  His own brooding refection greeted him. 

“No, I suppose not,” He relented, acutely aware that this was an argument he wasn’t going to win.  “Though, if we’re being technical, I think Fluttershy gets the credit for redeeming Discord.” 

Twilight snorted a tiny laugh. 

“Yes, alright, I’ll give you that one.” 

Spike looked at the Princess over his shoulder. 

“How much sleep are you getting?” He asked, changing the subject. 

“Sleep?” Twilight repeated, caught off-guard.  “Oh, you know...enough.” 

“How much?” Spike pressed, turning from the window and leaning against the frame.  “How many hours per night?” 

“I’m getting...five, sometimes six hours...” Twilight squirmed.   

“That’s not enough.” Spike said with a roll of his eyes. 

“I get royal siestas, too,” Twilight dodged. 

“You’re a Princess, Twilight.  You should be getting eight hours a night, at least.” 

“I can’t.” Twilight said simply.  “I have to dispense all my Princess duties during the day, and then there’s the dream realm that needs at least some patrolling at night.” 

Spike shook his head. 

“We need another Princess,” he said to the window. 

“Hm.” Twilight said humorlessly.  Then the Dragon’s words sank in.  “What?” 

Spike looked over his shoulder. 

“No, I mean...not like that.  We need a second Princess.  Like how Celestia had Luna.” 

“Ah.”  Twilight raised a hoof to her chin in thought.  “Another Princess...” 

Spike narrowed his eyes at his sister.  He knew that look.  Something he’d said had led Twilight on a path of thought.  What that path was, he couldn’t be sure, but he knew Twilight well enough to know that it was pointless to ask.  She would just brush him off, so he supposed he’d have to just wait and see.  He pursed his lips as he rolled the parchment he was still holding up in his hands. 

“I’ll, um, get a good night’s sleep tonight and head out to Yakyakistan in the morning.” 

“What?” Twilight was suddenly snapped out of her ponderings.  “Oh, oh yes.  Do you want me to take you there?” 

“No, I’ll fly,” Spike replied with a smile.  “The exercise’ll do me good.” 

“Are you sure?  It’s no bother.  I can just teleport you there.” 

“No thanks.  Seriously, I’ll be fine.” 

“Why not?” Twilight asked, almost indignantly.  She knew that Spike thought that she was overworked, but she was fine, perfectly capable of dispensing her duties. 

“Because you’re the ruler of Equestria, not a taxi service.” 

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again.  The dragon had a point.  She closed her eyes for a second. 

“Hargh, fine.” Twilight sighed, defeated.  Spike smiled before standing and making for the door.   

“Goodnight Twilight,” He said, opening it.  “Try and get some sleep.” 

Twilight watched him as he opened the door. 

“Night night,” she said. 

With a soft click the door closed, and Twilight was once again left alone with her thoughts.  Spike was right, she wasn’t getting enough sleep.  Now that she thought of it, when was the last time she woke up not feeling like she was about to die?  When was the last time that dragging herself from her bedsheets hadn’t required an immense battle of will?  She shook her head.  And then there was the ‘statue’ problem.  She scowled.  She’d almost forgotten about that for a moment there.  Then Spike’s words echoed in her mind.  What if there was a solution to both of these problems?  Another Princess, huh?  Spike’s idle comment had fired a train of thought that was now in danger of becoming a runaway.  Another Princess would solve the overworking problem Twilight thought, as she dove onto the bed and began to hoof the sheets over herself.  Unfortunately, her Princess options were limited, to say the least.  Celestia and Luna were both enjoying their retirement; Twilight daren’t ask either of them for help.  Cadance was busy ruling the Crystal Empire, obviously, and Flurry Heart was still too young.  So that was that, then.  Twilight magically dimmed the lights and relished the sound of the rain.  If only she could just ‘make’ another Princess, just like Celestia did with her... 

Twilight sat bolt upright.  Why couldn’t she, exactly?  She was the ruler now, right?  It was her right to offer the chance to ascend to anypony she saw fit, right?  An impish smile spread across her face.  All she needed to do would be cook up an adequate ‘challenge’... 

‘Something like, say, helping out with the statue problem?’ A thought whispered in her mind. 

Her smile became a grin.  Ohh, that was a challenge alright.  Completing a spell of Starswirl’s was one thing, but this...  Princess fodder if ever she saw it.  She lay back down, still smiling.  This was going to require some planning, some lists, and some candidate selections.  She had a pretty good feeling who was going to be at the top of the latter list though.  Twilight slipped rapidly into one of the best nights’ sleep she’d had in some time. 
> 2. In Your Dreams
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lobby of the school of friendship was alive with the sounds of the hustle and bustle of numerous students scrambling to make their next class.  The enchanted translucent ceiling allowed the late-morning sun to flood the room, and the hanging drapes created shafts of light that revealed billowing particles in the air that ebbed and flowed in the golden warmth.  The chatter of the students as they mingled and weaved about the pillars and busts reached the upper balcony where Starlight Glimmer stood.  With a frown, she kicked at a miniscule stain on the navy carpet, patterned with swirls and stars (not all that dissimilar from her own cutie mark), and sipped at her green tea.  The cup and saucer were enveloped in the familiar pale blue glow of her magic as she de-levitated the cup from her lips and placed it on the banister with a light tink. 

“No running in the lobby please!” She called down, using her magic to slightly augment the volume of her voice.  Down below, several students hopped in fright into a brisk walk, from what was a run.  Starlight smiled.  There were creatures from all corners of Equestria in attendance now; Yaks, Dragons, Changelings, Griffons, Hippogriffs, even a few Cows, Diamond Dogs, Cats and Zebras in the current term.  All of them here to learn the nuances of friendship.  Starlight found it quite moving; to think that so many disparate beings could be unified by one singular desire, a desire to understand, to be understood by each other as they navigate the tempestuous waters of existence, clinging to one another for support, companionship. 

Say, that might look good on a plaque. 

Starlight took another sip of tea and adjusted the lapels of her maroon blazer.  With a pang of guilt, she remembered her old village that she’d once ruled with an iron hoof.  Despite her misguided and more than a little despotic methods, all that she’d really wanted was unity, a sense of community.  Here, she had that, but it was different, better, unity through diversity.  More plaque ideas flooded her mind. 

The last few stragglers appeared to have made it to their respective classes, and a serene silence once again fell across the grand hall.  Starlight mentally went through her daily to-do list; review the faculty lesson plans, chair a staff meeting, review the permission slips for Apple Bloom’s field trip next week, liaise with the head of the PTA... 

A familiar loud ‘bamph’ behind her knifed through her thoughts and instantly signaled to her that a powerful magic user had just teleported behind her.  Instinctively she tensed, her mind instantly going into threat assessment, but she paused, rationalizing her thoughts.  There were very few creatures capable of unassisted teleportation, and the sound of the spell told her that it was innate, not artifact magic.  One of the former Princesses was possible, but unlikely.  So too with Sunburst.  They were the types to send a message before simply appearing.  No, the most likely candidate would be somepony who was powerful, gifted, and scatterbrained enough to not write first.  So that left... 

“Twilight!” Starlight exclaimed with a smile, turning around to greet her mentor. 

Twilight had appeared with outstretched wings, as was her typical teleportation stance.  She was wearing her minimalist but regal golden crown, breastplate and shoes, and her purple and pink mane flowed ethereally in the warm air.  Her eyes remained closed as she folded her wings to her back, and then she opened them, smiling a smile of her own. 

“Starlight.  It’s good to see you.” 

“Did...did we have a meeting scheduled today?” Starlight enquired, a twinge of fear gripping her stomach.   

“No, no,” Twilight replied.  “This is an impromptu visit.  There was something I wanted to discuss with you.” 

“Oh, that’s good,” Starlight said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Shall we head to my office then?” 

“That would be lovely.” 

Starlight led the way down the main staircase, glancing over her shoulder at the Princess following behind. 

“So you couldn’t have sent a note?  I am quite a busy mare, you know.” Starlight mocked as they walked. 

“Sorry,” Twilight replied sheepishly.  “The truth is, I had something of an epiphany last night, and you’re the only pony I can talk to about it.” 

“Well, this sounds intense.  Colour me intrigued.”                                

The pair reached the foot of the stairs and Starlight led the Princess off to the left, weaving between the marble pillars.  They passed under an ornate archway, and down a corridor lined with polished oak doors and framed pictures of teachers, both past and present.  Twilight smiled as she passed the portraits of her closest friends, and she couldn’t help but pause at her own.  She looked at the picture, then frowned at the reflection in the glass.  When had she gotten so old? 

Starlight glanced back at the Princess from several meters ahead, a knowing smile playing about her lips.  Twilight snapped back to reality with a flustered clearing of her throat, and quickly trotted after her protégé.  Finally they arrived at a door set with a frosted glass window that in black lettering bore the legend ‘Starlight Glimmer Headmare’.  Starlight casually pushed the door open, and welcomed Twilight into her office.  It was less cluttered than Twilight remembered, and Starlight’s desk had definitely received an upgrade, being as how it was now a solid slab of polished applewood.  She had an extensive bookshelf to the right of her chair behind her desk, and a glass fronted display cabinet to the left, displaying various keepsakes, curios and tchotchkes.  There was still elements of the familiar within the office though, Twilight noticed.  Phyllis, Starlight’s potted plant, still had pride of place on the Headmare’s desk, there were still pictures of Starlight’s closest friends (Maud Pie and Trixie, though admittedly the pictures were now framed) and several box kites still hung from the ceiling. 

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Starlight enquired as she strode around her desk.  “I have tea, coffee, water...” 

“No thank you, I’m fine.”  Twilight said as she stepped across the luxurious carpet and took a padded chair opposite the desk. 

“Phyllis,” Twilight smiled with a nod at the plant.  “A pleasure as always.” 

“Oh, actually, that’s Fern,” Starlight chimed, standing leaning against the back of her own chair.  “Phyllis’ daughter.  Phyllis is enjoying her retirement in my window box.” 

Twilight shot her friend an incredulous look. 

“Apologies.” She replied dryly. 

With a wave of her hoof, Starlight wheeled her chair from under her desk and took a seat.   

“Well, I’m sure it’s not the lineage of my plants that you wanted to talk about Twilight,” Starlight said, resting her elbows on the surface of her desk.  “What’s on your mind?” 

Twilight took a deep breath. 

“I have a project that I want you to spearhead.  What it is exactly I can’t tell you, not here.  Just know that it’s highly classified, and potentially a matter of national security.” 

Starlight’s eyebrows leapt up to greet her hairline. 

“Well, you don’t beat about the bush, do you?” 

Twilight blushed a little. 

“Sorry.  I probably should have gone through a few more pleasantries first, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah, a little bit.” Starlight replied.  She tapped her hooves together in thought.  “Is this something that’s going to interfere with my duties as headmare?” 

“Almost certainly,” Twilight said grimly.  “You should have somepony on hand to take over the school as and when needed.” 

“For how long?” 

“Impossible to say.  At least a few months, I should think.” 

Starlight reeled. 

“This is a pretty big task you’re laying at my door, Twilight.” Starlight massaged her temples. 

“It is.” Twilight said simply.  “I won’t lie, it’s probably the biggest task I’ve ever asked anypony to do.  But believe me when I say, I’ve thought about this very carefully, and you’re the only mare for the job.” 

Starlight suddenly became acutely aware of the gravity of the situation.  This wasn’t just a favor for a friend, this was a full blown task handed down by the ruler of Equestria, of the kind that Celestia used to pass on to Twilight herself.  For a moment she was rendered speechless. 

“Also, this will likely be too big a job for just yourself, so I’d like you to put together a short list of names of ponies who’ll be working under you.  Obviously, this is all on a ‘need to know’ basis.” Twilight continued. 

“I...uh...” Starlight stammered.  This was big, and one heck of a thing to be dropped on her without warning this early in the morning.  It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet, for Celestia’s sake. 

“I know this is a lot,” Twilight spoke soothingly, reaching across the desk and touching Starlight’s hoof with her own, “but I have every confidence you’ll make me proud.” 

Starlight looked into Twilight’s eyes.  There was the usual kindness and warmth she’d come to expect from her mentor, but there was something else there now too.  Something that said ‘I know where you are right now.  I’ve been there too.’  That look lit a fire of determination in her soul.  This was a challenge she wasn’t going to back away from.  Apart from anything else, if Twilight could do it, you could bet your bottom bit that she could too. 

“Whatever you need,” Starlight said with a smile, regaining her composure.   

Twilight returned her smile and retracted her hoof. 

“Good,” she said, rising from her seat.  “Well, I hate to dump all that on you and run, but I have some preparations to take care of.” 

Starlight’s expression turned to confusion. 

“Hold on, it’s going to pretty difficult to put together a list of names when I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to be doing, you know?” 

Twilight turned.   

“I’m sure you already have some creatures in mind.  I’d recommend using your friends; that’s what got me through everything Celestia ever threw at me.” 

Starlight nodded. 

“Besides,” Twilight continued, “I’ll be in touch later tonight.  Somewhere where we can get right into the nitty-gritty details without fear of eavesdroppers.” 

“O-ok,” Starlight replied, the insecurities returning somewhat.  “Where?  Just let me know and I’ll...” 

“No need,” Twilight cut her off.  “I’ll find you.” 

With that cryptic last statement, the Princess of Friendship breezed out of Starlight’s office and was gone.  A moment later, the sound of a teleport spell going off signaled that she had left the premises.  Starlight slumped into her ergonomic chair and groaned uncertainly. 

 

************************************


The late morning sun beat down upon Equestria, illuminating her green valleys, snow-capped mountains and shimmering silver and blue rivers.  On the surface it was probably a balmy summer’s day, but where Spike was, it was just a little warmer than freezing.  Not that Dragons felt the cold very much. 

Just as well, Spike mused as he zipped through a fluffy cumulus.  He adjusted his brass rimmed flight goggles, and brushed some ice crystals from his trousers.  The glass in front of his eyes fogged, and he frantically swiped at them with a scaled finger.  They were a gift from Rainbow Dash, and had proven themselves invaluable for all the flights he’d been taking.  The lenses cleared, he took a look at the land sprawling out underneath him and gathered his bearings.  The mountains were in front of him, just peeking out from the horizon.  It meant it he still had an hour or so of flight ahead of him.  He allowed a lungful of air to puff out of his relaxed lips.  As was often the case with extended flights, he soon found that his mind began to wander.  Yakyakistan, huh?  Spike had meticulously studied what scant information there was on Twilight’s job sheet, and from what he could gather, there was a single Yak trader that had set up shop high in the Yakyakistan mountains, which technically put him just inside of the Dragon’s territory.  Not too much of a bother, theoretically at least, just show up, flash the royal seal, and get him to move his stall all of six meters.  Easy peasy, marinated in citrus juice.  Then that left him in Yakyakistan, and look at that, a healthy number of personal days saved up and not much to do with them.  And you know who else was in Yakyakistan... 

Rarity!  Excitement sent a charge of electricity through his stomach.  It had been quite a while since he’d seen her.  He’d caught glimpses of her, of course, the odd ‘hello’ when he’d passed her while she was visiting Twilight on their monthly get-togethers, but they hadn’t had any one-on-one time since...Celestia, it must have been years.  Maybe he should start asking if he could be included in their little meetings, but he had his dignity, gosh darn it.  Besides, it wasn’t like he’d asked Twilight to join him and the guys for Ogres & Oubliettes anytime recently.   

Rarity!  He wondered if she’d remember him.  No, that was ridiculous, of course she’d remember him.  He was little Spikey-wikey, right?  The chivalrous young Dragon that would move mountains to help out his sister’s fabulous-best-friend despite his diminutive stature and limited capabilities.  Not that he was so diminutive anymore.  Or limited.  He shifted his backpack around on his shoulder, adjusting it for the sake of comfort.  To use it the way nature intended, i.e. over both shoulders, would interfere with his wings, and could very well prove fatal.  It wasn’t particularly heavy; all he had in it was his job description, a pillow and thin blanket, a spare pair of trousers, some snacking gems, and of course Rarebear.  He’d almost left home without her, Twilight’s gentle ribbing still fresh in his mind, he’d even made it out of the door to his bedroom without her, but something dragged him back, and he quickly stuffed her in the bag’s front pocket.  Old habits died hard, he guessed.  He needed to snuggle something at night, for Celestia’s sake.  Still not comfy, he shifted the bag again with a frustrated grunt.  Of course, the really smart thing to do would be to wear the thing backwards, over both shoulders covering his chest, like some kind of makeshift papoose, but he just couldn’t get over how uncool it made him look.  Sometimes sacrifices were required for fashion.  Rarity would appreciate that, he thought with a smirk. 

Rarity!  He couldn’t wait to see her.  Of course, nothing was going to happen.  He’d often toyed with the idea of revealing his feelings to her over the years, but he’d come to the conclusion that no good would come of it.  She knew anyway, right?  She knew.  He remembered (exquisitely, due to the embarrassment) the time when he’d become giant and feral due to greed, and he’d taken her like she was a possession, he’d almost spilled his guts then, right when he snapped back to his old self.  She’d silenced him with a gentle hoof to his lips.  She knew.  So did everypony else, he thought with a scowl.  It was one thing when he was a child, but now...was this particular fixation starting to border on the...creepy (for lack of a better word) side of things?  The thought made his blood run cold.  No, no, surely not.  If that were the case, somepony would have told him, right?  She would have told him.  Rarity was fabulosity incarnate, there were undoubtedly a line of creatures longer than one of Twilight’s to-do lists who were enamored with her, it was a statistical certainty that she would have had to have given a few of them the polite brush off over the years.  Or maybe not.  It was one thing when it was the unwanted attentions of some stranger your own age, quite another when it’s your best friend’s little brother.  Who happens to be adopted.  And a dragon.  He shivered a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.  He made a deal with himself; when he saw in Yakyakistan, if he saw her, he’d play it cool.  You know, just say hello, ask how the business was doing, small talk-y type of stuff.  Her reaction and body language should tell him everything he’d need to know.  If he got a frosty reception, then it was time to lay this unrequited love to rest and move on with his life.  Celestia, he hoped that wasn’t the case.  Please Celestia, let that not be the case... 

Rarity!  Speaking of giving someone the brush off, he remembered too the time that that odious travel writer, Trenderhoof had breezed into town.  She’d practically offered herself on a silver platter to that stallion but he didn’t want to know, he only had eyes for Applejack.  What an idiot!  What a buffoon!  What a chump!  At the time Spike had been torn between breathing a huge sigh of relief and grabbing the gormless specimen by his over-starched lapels and shaking some sense into him.  Mercifully, he hadn’t done that, but the urge was undeniable.  The thought raised a good point though, he had no idea if she was still single.  In all honesty, the smart bits said probably not.  She was a high-society fashionista with the full force of a clothing empire behind her, one who regularly fraternized with some of the most eligible bachelors in all of Equestria.  The idea that she wouldn’t be seeing somepony...well, it was remote, to say the least.  Spike’s stomach lurched.  This flight was beginning to turn into something of a rollercoaster, emotionally speaking.  He took a few deep breaths.  Well, if that were the case, refer back to the ‘frosty reception’ pathway.  He was starting to understand that this trip was most likely where this little fantasy of his died.  A small, cold ball of despair welled up in his chest, but he beat his wings nonetheless.  Well, if that were the case, so be it.  He’s admired her from afar this long, he could do it some more.  Besides, nothing was going to happen anyway, he reminded himself.  She’d always be special to him, and that was enough.  He’d always have rare-bear, he thought grimly as he clenched a fist around his backpack strap.  Also, if this was where the fantasy died, then fine, but it wasn’t quite dead yet. 

Rarity... 

The purple shape streaked though the cyan sky towards his final destination on one of the remote peaks of the jagged mountains. 

 

************************************

 

Starlight sat nervously and rearranged her desk for the third or fourth time.  It was late, the mare-in-the moon clearly visible from her office window, and with each passing second the Headmare was growing more and more fretful.   

‘I’ll find you,’ she thought for fourth or fifth time.  ‘What the heck does that even mean?  I haven’t gone anywhere.’ 

She span herself around in her swivel chair for a few rotations before pushing her hooves against her desk and boosting herself backwards several feet.  Then she had the indignity of having to waddle back to her desk.  There was little on it, just her name plate, a writing pad and pen, a Newton’s cradle and of course Fern.  Starlight reached into her bottom right drawer and retrieved a small spray bottle that she misted her plant with for the fifth or sixth time.  What had Twilight meant, exactly?  Where would the Princess find her where they couldn’t be eavesdropped upon?  Was this a test?  Some sort of puzzle she was supposed to solve?  That did sound like Twilight.  But if that were the case, what was she supposed to do?  She had nothing to go on.  Where in Equestria was safe from magical interference?  Tartarus?  She wasn’t going there, even if she had a key to get in. 

Starlight slammed her fore-hooves down on the desk, making Fern jump in her pot, rose from her chair and paced to the window, for the sixth or seventh time.  She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see when she looked out of it, but she’d been hoping for some sort of sign, a pointer to nudge her in the right direction.  She saw nothing, save for her own stressed reflection and the bright, misty, full moon.  The effigy of Nightmare Moon was just as well defined as it had always been, a remnant of a by-gone age.  She’d heard the stories when she was a filly, though she’d never paid them much attention.  An old mare’s tale, nothing more.  How curious that in her lifetime, Nightmare Moon had gone from scary story to frighten foals, to a horrifying reality, to Princess Luna, beloved and respected (and now retired) joint-ruler.  Not that any of that was helpful right now.  She sighed, her breath fogging up the window pane, before slinking back to her chair.  She tapped the Newton’s cradle (for the seventh or eighth time) and allowed the rapid clicking noise to assault her ears.  She’d give it ten more minutes, after that she was going home and getting in bed, Princess or no.  She was a busy mare with a school to run, for Celestia’s sake. 

That thought dragged her to the one thing she hadn’t really wanted to think about; just what the heck was it that Twilight wanted her to do that required this much security?  Starlight could conjure up a privacy spell, complete with physical force-field barrier and soundproofing with ease, and such was her prowess that there weren’t many in Equestria that could break through it.  In fact, was there anyone?  Discord, maybe.  Starlight crumpled up her face.  That pain in the flank.  Is he what had the Princess spooked?  The Draconequis mostly limited himself to fawning over his unofficial wife and terrorizing his O&O group, but it wasn’t unheard of, even these days, for him to stick his oar into official state business and make trouble.  Usually when he had an ill-conceived point he was trying to make.  So what was it that Twilight had in mind for her?   

It was pointless to speculate.  She’d know more when she talked to Twilight again, whenever that might be.  But with this amount of caution, it was safe to assume that it was big.  Maybe it was to do with... 

There were three light raps of a hoof on Starlight’s door.  The mare jolted upright in her chair, performed a last-minute check of her desktop furniture, silenced the cradle, and cleared her throat. 

“Come in?” She said in a voice that she hoped sounded inviting and not at all freaked-out.  The door opened a crack, and a white and sky-blue mane framing a mischievous face popped around it. 

“The grrrreat-and-powerful Trixie saw your light was still on.  Working late?  Time for a break?” 

The immediate tension left Starlight’s body.  She opened her mouth to say something, but the blue mare beat her to it. 

“I brought appletinis!” She said, her horn glowing light blue, and a bottle and two cocktail glasses floated across the threshold.  Starlight eyeballed the bottle. 

“Get in here.” 

 

One swift explanation and several swift drinks later, Starlight reclined in her chair while Trixie lounged in one of the headmare’s guest chairs, her hind legs propped up on the desk.  Starlight glanced disapprovingly at the guidance counselor's hooves, but had long since given up passing comment on Trixie’s slovenly behavior.   

“So that’s it then?” Trixie asked, folding her front legs. 

“Yep, that’s it.” Starlight replied, toying with the mostly empty appletini bottle. 

Trixie chuckled, shaking her head whilst looking away.  She sucked some air through her teeth with a light squeaking noise. 

“This is so like her,” She muttered.  “No thought to who she’s dumping on.  Just as long as her ‘research opportunities’ are satisfied.” 

Trixie emphasized the words ‘research opportunities’ with an unflattering Twilight Sparkle impression.  Starlight tried to suppress a giggle but failed miserably, sending it through her nose with a snort instead.  Trixie looked over at her friend with a satisfied grin, while Starlight attempted to regain her composure. 

“So what should I do now?” Starlight asked, wiping at her nose with her hoof. 

Trixie stared at her blankly and shrugged. 

“I dunno.  Nothing?” 

“Oh, you’re a massive help.” Starlight muttered sarcastically.   

“No, I’m serious,” Trixie continued, her voice taking on a stern edge.  “Twilight came to you, not the other way around.  Remember, you’re the one doing her a favor, whether she’s the Princess of Equestria or not.” 

Starlight abandoned the appletini bottle and looked at her friend.  Her usual, slightly smug smile, was gone, replaced by an intense look of earnest honesty.  Her big purple eyes were large and unblinking, and for a moment, Starlight found herself lost in them.  After a second that spanned an eternity, she mentally shook herself out of it. 

“So I should just wait for Twilight to contact me?” 

“The ball’s on her side of the buckball field,” Trixie replied.  “So yes, you should just wait.  But more importantly, you should relax and stop worrying.” 

Starlight looked down at her tabletop, poking at her note pad with a hoof-tip.   

“You’re one heck of a guidance counselor, you know that?” 

“The best the School of Friendship’s ever seen.” Trixie smirked. 

“Yes, I suppose you’re - HEY!” Starlight started, before picking up on the veiled insult that had been tossed her way.  Trixie’s smirk intensified, and Starlight couldn’t help but laugh at her best friend’s jibe.  This in turn caused Trixie to laugh, and within moments they were both giggling just like old times.  Upon regaining her composure, Starlight picked up the bottle, and split the last of the contents between their glasses. 

“Thanks.  I really needed that.” She said, pushing Trixie’s glass across the desk to her friend.  “The relaxing is going to take some doing though.  I’m wound up tighter than a cuckoo clock.” 

“Ooo, The Great and Powerful Trixie can help with that too,” Trixie chuckled giddily.  “How about a massage?  Trixie has magic hooves!” 

Starlight leaned back in her chair, before sinking the remains of her drink and shrugging. 

“What the heck.  Anything to get my mind off this Twilight thing.” 

Trixie grinned that grin of hers, rose from her chair, and trotted around Starlight’s desk and behind her chair.  Presently, she felt hooves connected to silky-smooth fore-legs pass by either side of her head, and rest firmly on her withers.  Starlight sharply drew in her breath as Trixie began to dig her hooves into her flesh, which then escaped back past her lips in a low groan of pleasure.   

“Hoooooo....” The headmare commented. 

“See?  I told you.” Trixie’s smug voice rang in her ears.  As the guidance counselor continued to work at her neck and upper back, Starlight allowed her eyes to roll back in her head slightly. 

“You know, Twilight told me that this ‘project’, whatever it is, is definitely going to cut into my duties as Headmare.” Starlight mumbled, in-between gasps and grunts.  “That being the case, I want y-ah! ...you to take my place.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to be the greatest Headmare the school has ever seen too,” Trixie whispered in her ear.  “Enough about Twilight now.  You’re supposed to be relaxing.” 

“Right you ar-reee!” 

Trixie leaned forward, as she slid her hooves down Starlight’s back.  In turn, Starlight scooched her butt forward in her chair to allow the blue mare better access.  As she did so, she felt a soft cheek brush against her own.  The headmare opened her eyes, and was met with a strand of silver hair right in her field of vision.  She immediately noticed the smell of it; like a summer meadow, and she found herself briefly intoxicated by it.  Twisting in her chair, she turned her head to get a better look at her friend, and was soon met with those huge purple eyes once again.  Starlight felt a pump of excitement in her chest, for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate.  The mischievous smirk once again played on Trixie’s face, as she glided her hooves around Starlight’s body to her chest. 

“Hey.” The cyan mare said simply. 

“Hey.” Starlight replied, the feeling of excitement intensifying.   

Agonizingly slowly, Trixie closed the mere inches gap between their faces until their lips met, and before Starlight knew it she was kissing her best friend.  Her eyes closed once again, and she felt Trixie’s tongue enter her mouth and wrap around her own.  Enthusiastically, Starlight returned the kiss, and semi-consciously reached one hoof up to caress Trixie’s cheek.  The mares explored each other’s mouths for several more seconds before breaking off, panting, their faces touching nose-to-nose.  For a few brief moments, a saliva strand connected their lips before dissappearing.  Starlight once again lost herself in those amazing eyes, while Trixie, without breaking her gaze, or allowing her smile to falter, slid her hoof over Starlight’s chest, and began to slowly pop the buttons of her shirt apart.  Starlight felt an electrical charge run through her body, and she began to feel hot, as the excitement settled in her crotch.  Trixie kissed her once again as the last of her shirt buttons fell to her probing hoof, and now, her upper body exposed, the counselor deepened her kiss and leaned even further forward, until her hoof met the waistline of Starlight’s skirt.  Trixie broke off the kiss and Starlight gasped as she did so, as Trixie looked down to better focus on what she was doing, as her hoof gently slid under the waistband, softly caressing Starlight’s lower belly, continuing lower, straight towards her eager... 

There was a cough from the other side of the room.   

“I’m just going to announce myself now, before this goes any further.” 

Starlight gasped, this time out of sheer panic.  Her eyes flicked open, and after taking a split second to focus, she saw Twilight Sparkle standing in the far corner.  She was blushing heavily, partially hiding her face behind an outstretched wing. 

“Twilight!” Starlight practically shouted.  “What’re you...I mean, Trixie and I were just, uh....” 

Amid the blind panic and embarrassment, a small part of Starlight’s brain told her that it sure was strange that the Princess hadn’t bothered to knock, or that she hadn’t heard the door open, or a teleport spell go off for that matter.  She cast her eyes back to Trixie, hoping for some kind of guidance, only for the blue mare to roll her lips inward in an expression depicting ‘Sorry, buddy’, before she shrugged her shoulders and ethereally faded from existence.  

“Wh-what?!” Starlight spluttered, scrabbling to sit up in her chair.  As she did so, the room and all of its contents faded away too.  Soon all that remained were herself, her chair, and Twilight Sparkle in an inky black featureless void.  She shot Twilight a panicked look, who was still looking intensely uncomfortable, but strangely illuminated, despite there being no visible light source.  It was only then that the full horror of the situation dawned on Starlight. 

“A dream.” She moaned, clasping her hooves to her eyes. 
> 3. Of all the Yak Bars in all the World, She Trots into Mine
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lonely dragon trudged through the foot deep snow as the blizzard howled around him.  It was almost pitch dark, the only way that he could navigate was by the faint glow of the village ahead.  He was heading up a gentle incline, and he thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t more sheer than it was.  The faint flecks of snow whipped in front of his eyes and he found that if he focused on them for too long it created a mesmerizing effect that made him feel dizzy.  Instead, he tried to keep his eyes fixed on the silhouettes of the thatched hut-tops against the glow of numerous torchlights and at least one bonfire. 

“Come on Spike,” He muttered to himself.  “Just a little further.”  

The wind snatched the words from his lips as soon as he’d spoken them, and if it wasn’t for the inner monologue running through his mind, he might’ve been convinced he’d never uttered them at all.  Despite being able to see the village he was still at least a good ten minutes' walk away, and although his kind were resistant to the cold, he knew he had to find shelter, and fast.  He’d long since removed his blanket from his backpack, and he clutched it around his shoulders, though it offered precious little protection against the elements.  In retrospect, it had been foolish of him to go gallivanting off to Yakyakistan without so much as a coat or a pair of boots, but then, he hadn’t expected to be travelling anywhere at night.  He gritted his teeth against the cold.  Easy peasy marinated in citrus juice his ass.  He’d forgotten how stubborn and arrogant Yaks could be.  What an idiot he’d been for expecting that all it would take would be a flash of the royal seal to get that flea-bitten trader to move.  It had taken hours of negotiation, persuasion and veiled threats to convince him, and he’d still have to have a follow-up meeting to ensure that their final agreement had stuck.  Now it was the dead of night, he was forced to walk to the nearest village in desperate search of sanctuary, and what was somehow worse, he’d lost a day of being able to drop in on Rarity.  Oh well.  He’d waited this long.  Spike wiped at his goggles, once again mentally thanking his super-sonic friend for her gift.  Of course, he could be at the Yak village within thirty seconds by flight, but he daren’t, not in these conditions.  He wasn’t a bad flyer, but he reckoned that Rainbow Dash herself would have difficulty in this.  Grimly he continued his slow but steady pace, eyes fixed dead head on his destination. 

By the time he actually approached the gates of the village he was physically shivering, something that he couldn’t remember ever having happened to him before.  The two guard Yaks on either side of the open wooden gate regarded him with mild curiosity, and despite the bitter cold Spike allowed his blanket to fall open at the front, and he made both of his palms visible, showing the Yaks that he was unarmed, and not looking for trouble.  One of the guards gave a low whistle when they saw his bare chest. 

“Huh.  Dragon made of tough stuff.” He said once Spike had stepped within earshot.  “Yaks like that.  Tourist?” 

“I, uh...yeah.” Spike replied feebly.  It wasn’t technically true, but he really wasn’t in the mood for a long conversation about why he was really in Yakyakistan.  His eyes were drawn past the guardsyaks, down the path to what looked like the village square, where right in the middle there raged a huge bonfire, twice his height.  He eyeballed it longingly, the dancing flames reflected in his emerald eyes.  The Yaks looked him up and down for what felt like an eternity.  They were both brown furred, their eyes obscured by their long, braided hair.  Each of them wore canvas straps around their midriff which suspended a scabbarded short sword, and each of them blew plumes of steam into the frigid air as they breathed.  Their huge horns glistened in the torch light as they moved their heads up and down, thoroughly inspecting the purple dragon.  Spike wasn’t sure how they could even see him though their fur, but apparently see him they most assuredly did.  He was about to speak to try and convince them to let him pass, but the rightmost Yak beat him to it. 

“Dragon welcome.” He said in a gruff but welcoming tone.  “Yaks best hosts.  This best Yak village.  Home of Prince Rutherford!” 

“Thank you,” Spike breathed, forcing his teeth not to chatter as he spoke.  He stepped forward, and was just about to cross the threshold, when the other Yak held across a foreleg to block his progress. 

“Dragon no cause trouble,” He warned, gesturing to his sword with a mighty horn.  “Dragon regret it if do.” 

“I won’t.” Spike pleaded.  “I promise.” 

The Yak nodded, satisfied.  He lowered his leg, and Spike half walked, half jogged down the ramshackle street to the sweet, sweet warmth of the bonfire. 

The Dragon bounded down the gravelly pathway, not really taking in his surroundings.  Various mud and straw huts with thatched roofs blurred past his peripheral vision, but all of his attention was focused on the fire in front of him.  After a few more moments of labored running, he was there, and he felt his cold skin get the tingle of warmth from the flames.  There were two rings of logs around it, the outer one had gaps of several feet between each one, and Spike supposed that these were makeshift benches for creatures to perch on to heat themselves for a few minutes.  There was nocreature about right now though, and Spike couldn’t say he blamed them.  The inner ring of logs contained no gaps and was only a meter away from the raging inferno, probably as a low-key safety feature.  Spike snorted a laugh as he dropped his backpack and blanket on the ground, before stepping over the inner ring.  Clearly, they weren’t laid here with Dragons in mind.  Once he was over and had taken a step and half towards the flames he began to feel like his old self once again.  The shivering ceased, and the feeling began to come back into his hands and feet.  He sighed a sigh that was one-part relief, one-part contentment.  He faced the fire for a few minutes, before rotating his body so he could toast his back.  OK, then.  Now what? 

The Dragon blew out a lungful of steam and looked around the dimly lit streets.  There were lit torches at the corners and at regular intervals thereafter, but so far all he had seen was row after row of dark huts.  There were a few that had the suggestion of lamplight coming from their curtained windows, but they weren’t of much help.  Everything he was seeing was telling him that these were all private dwellings.  There had to be a hotel or something somewhere, didn’t there?  Tartarus, he’d take a shed at this point.  He took a tiny stroll around the circumference of the fire, just to see if he could see anything promising on the other side.  He glanced around, and then found what he was looking for.  There was a hut over on the far corner that was maybe twice as large as the rest, with saloon style doors and a hanging sign outside that he couldn’t make out at this distance, but it was a safe bet that it was a pub or tavern of some sort.  Right then, he had a plan.  Head over there, get something substantial to eat, and, if he was lucky, get a room for the night at the very least.  He was about to turn back to retrieve his belongings, when an odd acrid smell entered his nostrils.  What was that?  Where was it coming from?  It was getting more pronounced by the second.  If it was the fire, why hadn’t he smelt it before?  Then he looked down, and with horror he realized that his trousers were beginning to smolder.  

“Oh, Celestia damn it!” He cursed under his breath as he leapt back over the inner ring of logs and began to frantically pat down his legs. 

After inventing some new kind of Yakyakistan-Dragon dance and no doubt profoundly amusing any creature that happened to look his way, Spike huffily pushed open the doors to the tavern.  The smell of stale booze and Yak hit him like a slap to the face, but he endured through gritted teeth.  Once he’d gotten closer and had a chance to take a look, the sign outside had proclaimed the establishment to be ‘The Smashed Barrel’, so he was on the money with his earlier assumption.  Inside the dimly lit-by-lamplight room, he could see that the whole building seemed to be just one big room filled with numerous tables with a circular open fireplace in the center.  Over the fire there hung a large cauldron where something bubbled merrily inside.  On the far side of the room there was a bar top, with a single Yak behind it.  There were Yaks at various tables, but the tavern was at less than half capacity.  None of the other patrons seemed to pay Spike much attention.  He doubted Dragons were commonplace around these parts, but at least with the age of peace that Twilight and the gang had helped to usher in, they weren’t too much of a novelty.  Spike weaved in between the tables, picking his way over the hay and sawdust strewn floor towards the bar.  Once there he leaned against it, and the bar-Yak turned to face him, but said nothing.  Spike produced a small coin purse from his pocket. 

“I, uh, don’t suppose you take Equestrian bits, do you?” He said, holding open the purse.  The Yak pulled aside a braid of hair and peered inside. 

“I look like Pony to you?” 

Spike sighed and re-pocketed his purse.  He lifted his backpack and placed it on the bar top.  Reaching inside, he retrieved his bag of snacking gems and spilled a few out. 

“How about these?” he asked miserably.  The Yak produced a jeweler's loupe from somewhere and began scrutinizing one of the rubies that had spilt from Spike’s bag. 

“Hmm...” The Yak pondered.  “These do nicely.  What having?” 

Spike glanced around the room, not really having thought this far ahead.  Every other Yak in this place seemed to be swigging from wooden tankards.   

“Just...one of what every-yak else is having, please.” He said finally.  The bar-yak nodded sagely. 

“Yak mead.  Best in Yakyakistan!” 

Spike nodded, then gestured in the direction of the bubbling pot in the middle of the room. 

“What’s in that? 

“Yak stew.  Best in Yakyakistan!” 

“No kidding.” Spike replied flatly.  “I’ll take some of that too, I’m starved.” 

The Yak separated a depressingly large number of gems from Spike’s bag, then slapped a wooden spoon and bowl in front of the Dragon.   

“Help self,” he said simply, as he began pulling on one of the bar’s pump handles.   

A few moments later, a tankard filled with a dark amber liquid joined the spoon and bowl.  Spike retrieved what was left of his gems, grabbed his drink and bowl, and marched to the cauldron.  He grabbed the ladle that was hanging off the pot handle and stirred it around in the earthy green mixture.  A few cubed chunks of unknown matter bubbled to the surface.  Visually it wasn’t the most appetizing thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but the smell that was wafting up from the cauldron wasn’t unappealing.  Root vegetables with a hint of some spice that the Dragon couldn’t identify.  He shrugged and filled his bowl with two ladle scoops.  That done, he selected a table for himself in an as out of the way place as possible; next to the wall, a few tables down from the bar.  He took a seat on a rickety chair and tried a spoonful of his meal.  He was right it, was root vegetables, potatoes, turnips, parsnips, but it had an edge of chili peppers behind it too.  He didn’t know about ‘best ever’, but honestly it wasn’t bad at all.  He tucked in hungrily, and before long the bowl had been licked clean.  As his grateful stomach settled, he took another look around the room.  It dawned on him for the first time, this hut was just that; one big room.  Which meant that he wasn’t getting a bed for the night, not here at least.  He scowled and took a swig from his tankard.  As the sweet liquid flowed down his throat, he retrieved his gem bag.  Nearly half of them were gone already, and he’d only had one drink and a bowl of stew.  He sucked air through his teeth and wracked his brain trying to think of what to do.  OK, so assuming that none of the locals were interested in bits, there was no way he could afford a room anywhere.  He tapped his foot in annoyance.  Right then, he had only one option.  He would return to the guard Yaks, flash the royal seal, explain who he was, and formally request sanctuary from the Yak kingdom.  He’d have to pray that they recognized and respected the seal when they saw it, but if they did, then he shouldn’t have any problems getting somewhere to sleep.  He might have to do some serious name-dropping to get them to listen, maybe bring up that time he brokered peace between the Yaks and the Dragons.  It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best he had. 

As he was sitting pondering his situation, the saloon doors on the opposite side of the room were pushed open with a soft creak.  Spike glanced in their direction and ended up performing the double take to end all double takes.  Rarity breezed into the bar, tapping some snow from her rear hooves as she crossed the doorway.  She looked radiant, as ever, dressed in her flowing blue cloak trimmed with white imitation fur that matched her helmet style hat.  The fur of it covered her ears, but allowed her horn to protrude, a fact that was signaled as it glowed a pale blue as she magically removed her saddle bags that bore a facsimile of her cutie mark and laid them out on a nearby table.  Spike could only look in open mouthed awe as she took a seat, not ten meters away from him, and removed her headwear, allowing her purple curls to cascade out of it.  She carefully laid the hat next to her bags and glanced around the room.  Mercifully, she did not look in the Dragon’s direction, so Spike was free to observe her undetected for a few more moments.  She had a single streak of grey running through her mane these days, a perfect band that ran from root to tip.  Spike remembered the fuss that had been kicked up when that had started to appear; her friends had had to rally around her and constantly reassure her that it was not, in fact, a blemish; rather it gave her an air of gracefulness, a look of experience, rather distinguished.  Spike wholeheartedly agreed, though admittedly he was somewhat biased.  From where he was sitting, he thought it looked like the cutest thing he’d ever seen.  The white Unicorn fiddled with her bag, and for an awful moment he thought she might be retrieving her purse so she could get up and order something.  If she were to get up and head to the bar now she’d definitely spot him, and he wasn’t quite ready for that.  He needed some kind of opening, something classy, understated.  Something she’d appreciate.  Fortunately for him, what she pulled from her bag appeared to be a sketchpad, which she flipped open and began to scribble in, magically manipulating a pencil that had been fished out of the pad’s ringlets.  She was taking discreet glances at the Yaks who were close by, and Spike realized that she was most likely drawing outfit ideas.  She was completely engrossed in her work, allowing her lower lip to protrude outwards as she lost herself in thought.  Spike felt the familiar electrical charge of excitement in his belly as he watched, and he knew that this was the best chance he had to go and talk to her.  But how?  The question bounced around his mind for a few moments whilst he allowed himself a few more glorious seconds of just staring at her.  Over the years, from time to time, he’d asked himself the question; did he really have feelings for her, or was this a childish infatuation that he’d just never quite been able to shake?  Seeing her now, bathed in the yellow and orange glow of the firelight, he knew he had his answer.  She was still doodling in her pad, her sky-blue eyes flitting from the page to the Yaks around her, the tip of her tongue just beginning to escape the corner of her mouth in concentration.  Spike felt his heart melt.  In the back of his mind, he was dimly aware of the unfairness of it all, of how highly unlikely it was that she’d ever see him the way he saw her.  But that was a thought for another time.  Right now he had better things to focus on.  Like on how he was going to strike up a conversation.  He snapped back to reality.  Just then, luckily for him, inspiration struck.  The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a sly smile as he grabbed the remains of his gem bag and slinked quietly out of his chair.  He crept to the bar, hoping against hope that he wasn’t too noticeable, and that Rarity hadn’t yet spotted him.  

“What’s the fanciest drink you’ve got in this place?” He asked in a low voice. 

“Yak sparkling wine!  Best in...” 

Spike silenced the barkeep by raising a finger to his lips. 

“...Yakyakistan.” The Yak finished with a whisper, which by Yak standards probably put him somewhere comparable to normal speaking volume. 

“OK, I’ll have a glass of that, and can you take it to the Unicorn sitting over there?” Spike asked, without turning around. 

The Yak tilted to  one side to look past the dragon, then tilted back. 

“You know, Yak not normally work tables.” 

Spike slammed his gem bag onto the bar top with a soft thud.  The Yak nodded in agreement, and slid the gems, bag and all, under the bar. 

 

************************************

 

There was a long silence.  Followed by a second long silence.  Succeeded by a third long silence.  Universes formed and died.  Ice ages began and ended.  Civilizations rose and fell. 

Twilight slowly lowered her wing from her face and uncurled her hooves from the dark void beneath her.  Starlight sat unmoving in her chair; her hooves still pressed to her eyes.  Twilight silently cursed herself.  Why hadn’t she just left?  She probably could have slipped out without being noticed, couldn’t she?  In the heat of the moment she’d panicked, and she’d been about two seconds away from seeing something that she wouldn’t be able to unsee. Her face was still flushed, so she allowed herself a few moments of controlled breathing, in the hopes that she’d be able to persuade the blood in her cheeks to head somewhere else. That done, she strolled over to Starlight, who still hadn’t moved. Twilight was grateful for the fact that there wasn’t a physical floor, so her approach was silent. With a wave of her hoof, Starlight’s desk faded back into existence, complete with a chair for Twilight. The Princess willed the chair out from the desk and plopped herself into it soundlessly. Still Starlight hadn’t moved. Should...should she just leave? No, no, that would be even worse somehow. It might imply that Twilight was disgusted by what she saw, or that the Headmare was right to be humiliated, somehow. Not that Twilight herself wouldn’t be in Starlight’s shoes, oof. Tartarus, what little she had seen had given her secondhand embarrassment that she’d probably feel for years to come. 

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but inspiration failed her. She closed it again, as quietly as she could. Should she act like nothing had happened? That would be silly, but maybe under the circumstances it would be the best way forward. 

“So Trixie, huh?” The Princess blurted out. Nice going, Twilight, she mentally admonished herself. 

Starlight ripped her hooves from her face, her eyes too wide and smile too broad to be sane. 

“Twilight!” Starlight cooed, hastily rebuttoning her shirt into the wrong holes. “I didn’t realize that this is what you meant when you said you’d find me.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Twilight replied sheepishly. “I probably should have mentioned. I patrol the dream realm now, so...” 

The Princess trailed off, awkwardly tapping her hooves together. There was a pause that was in its third trimester.  

“Yes, I can see that.” Starlight said, her voice still too loud and cheerful. “Well, I’m ready to discuss this project you have for me!” 

“Uhhh...” Twilight responded. “Maybe we should talk about what just happened first.” 

Starlight’s expression darkened. 

“No, we absolutely should not.” 

“It’s just that this type of thing could be indicative of unresolved feelings. If you don’t mind my asking, is this a dream you’ve encountered before?” 

Starlight looked away for a moment. 

“Once or twice,” She mumbled softly, before she snapped to her senses. “No, no, we’re not doing this!” 

“Starlight...” 

“It’s just one of those things! Sometimes you have sex dreams about ponies you know! It doesn’t mean anything!” 

“Right, but...” 

“Plus, I’ve been working very hard lately, and I’ve been stressed out about this project thing, it’s no wonder I’m having weird dreams!” Starlight rose from her chair and gesticulated wildly. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Twilight said quietly, looking up at her. “But have you considered the possibility that you might be in love with Trixie?” 

Starlight froze, her expression settling somewhere between amusement and outrage. 

“I... AM... NOT!” She half shouted, half laughed. 

“Ok,” Twilight said as soothingly as she could, trying to introduce some serenity to the room.  “It’s just you two have been really close for a while now, and the thought had occurred to me at least that you might be a little more than friends.  I’m sure I’m not the only one.” 

“How have I given you that impression?!” Starlight sat back down in her chair and leaned over the desk, glaring at the Princess. 

“Well, you girls always hang out together, you went on that caravan trip together...” 

“Oh, you mean the one where we almost killed each other?” Starlight interjected. 

“...you two bicker.  Like, all the time.  Like you’re married.” 

“All things that are comparable to things you’ve done with your friends in the past.  Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that you’ve never had an accidental erotic dream about one of your friends?” 

Twilight’s expression remained neutral, but her eye twitched almost imperceptibly. 

“We’re not talking about me.” She sniffed. 

A faint, humorless smile flashed across Starlight’s face for the briefest of moments.  Then she took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. 

“Twilight, I appreciate what you’re trying to do.  And it really means a lot to me that you care about me so much that you want to help me work through my feelings.  But please believe me when I say, your assistance in this matter is neither wanted nor required.” 

The Headmare fixed Twilight with a steely stare.  Twilight narrowed her eyes at her, before sighing. 

“Fine.  We’ll stick a pin in this for now, but we are coming back to it.” 

Starlight gave the slightest roll of her eyes. 

“So then, to business?” 

“To business.”   

 

************************************

 

Rarity clenched her jaw as she furiously scribbled down outfit ideas into her pad.  So far, Rarity 4 U Yakyakistan had been a bust.  She had an excellent location, right in the heart of the ‘capital’, Prince Rutherford’s village, and the establishment was of the finest building materials that the Yaks had to offer.  She’d tried to offer Yak approximations of the most popular lines from both her Canterlot and Manehatten stores, but so far, no Yak was buying.  She scowled.  Rugged traditionalists didn’t even begin to describe Yak tastes.  Honestly, they wouldn’t know fabulous if it burned down their huts and stole their potatoes.  Everything had to be brown, dark brown, light brown, terracotta, beige (if they felt like really pushing the boat out).  Earth tones, blech.  If one of them saw the colour purple, she honestly thought it might cause a heart attack.  She re-focused her attention on the Yak mare sitting several tables away.  She was sitting with a friend, gutturally laughing at something or other, slapping her hoof on the table-top repeatedly.  She was wearing what looked like a woven shawl over her back, brown and white (surprise, surprise) with black piping around the edges.  It appeared to be made of a coarse, hessian-like fabric, no doubt in order to weather the frankly absurd Yakyakistan climate, and it looked extremely itchy, not the kind of thing you’d want to feel close to your body.  Not that that was much of a concern to the Yaks of course, their fur being as thick as it was.  Rarity grumbled under her breath.  That was something else she had to worry about when considering Yak fashion; whatever she designed had to be able to survive sub-zero temperatures, and ideally offer at least some modicum of protection.  With every ensemble the Unicorn had ever designed, practicality usually ranked pretty low on the list of requirements.  That school of thought was much more Applejack’s territory.  Her mind briefly flitting to her orange friend, Rarity suddenly had a flash of inspiration.  What about something in gingham?  It was rustic, it was colourful, it was thin, but it shouldn’t be too hard to pad out for a winter climate.  Winter gingham?  That was just crazy enough to work.  With a demented smile, she sketched a frilly dress on her hastily drawn Yak body template.  Now, onto the hair.  The Yak she was observing had hers tied in elaborate braids and loops, secured by bows and ribbons, in much the same way that her old student Yona used to have.  Perhaps if she were to introduce something floral into the mix?  Maybe give the impression that the hair was tied up with flowers rather than ribbon?  She liked that, that was good.  It would go well with the summer motif the fabric of the dress was suggesting.  She could call the line ‘Summer in Winter’.  Ok, now she was getting somewhere.  Of course, the flowers would have to be... 

There was a loud sound of a Yak clearing his throat just above her.  Rarity looked up with a start; was she about to be told she had to order something or get out?  At the risk of sounding disparaging, ordinarily this type of ‘spit and sawdust’ establishment wasn’t the type of place she’d frequent, a fact that was brought to the forefront of her mind as she curled her hooves on the hay-strewn floorboards.  However, this type of place was one of the best locations for her to observe her clientele undetected, so frequent she must.  She quickly threw on her best ‘innocent and vulnerable, but also ravishingly beautiful and sultry’ expression.  To her surprise, a flute of sparkling wine was gently placed on the table in front of her by the hulking bar-Yak. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed.  “I’m terribly sorry, that’s not mine, I didn’t order that.” 

She batted her eyelids sweetly at her waiter.  Funny, she hadn’t thought this tavern actually waited tables. 

“Comes compliments of gentle-Dragon over there,” He replied, pointing past the roaring fire in the general direction of the bar.  “Him humbly request he might join you at your table.” 

Rarity squinted in the direction the Yak was gesturing, her vision obscured by the licking flames.  At first all she could see was a bulky silhouette of what was evidently a dragon perched on a bar stool.  After a few seconds of her eyes adjusting, with some added help of a hoof raised to her brow, she began to make out some details; shiny purple scales, muscular build, green spikes... 

“Spike?” She said softly.  “Spike!”  

The second ‘Spike’ had an edge of joyous recognition to it, as she rapidly beckoned him towards her with her hooves.  The Dragon slid off his stool and purposely strode to her table.  As he did so, the barkeep took his leave and returned to his post. 

“Hello,” The Dragon spoke softly.  He towered above Rarity, the tips of his head spikes not too far away from interfering with the ceiling.  Rarity was for a moment taken aback; every time she saw her friend these days she forgot just how big he’d gotten.  She took in his appearance for a split second then flawlessly regained her composure. 

“Spike!  What a pleasant surprise!  Do take a chair, darling.” 

With a nervous smile, the Dragon pulled out one of the wooden chairs at the table and gently lowered himself into it with a soft creak.  He placed his tankard down in front of him and flashed a toothy grin at the Unicorn. 

“Fancy running into you here!” She continued with delight.  “I thought I was the only one from our neck of the woods within miles.” 

“Uh, yeah, I just got here.” Spike replied.  “I was doing a job for Twilight.” 

“Of course,” Rarity nodded.  “She has you running all over Equestria these days, doesn’t she?” 

Spike arched his eyebrows and gave her a wide-eyed nod, his expression communicating ‘tell me about it’.  Rarity traced her hoof-tip around the rim of her glass, the conversation having seemingly momentarily dried up. 

“Where are my manners?” She said suddenly.  “I haven’t even thanked you for my drink.” 

“Not at all,” Spike beamed, glad to have something to say.  “I thought you could use one.” 

Rarity smiled sweetly. 

“You know,” She cooed, “you could have just come over and said hello.  We’re old friends, after all.” 

Spike ran a hand over his head fins sheepishly and smiled while averting his gaze. 

“Well, I didn’t want to disturb you.  You looked kinda busy.” 

He nodded in the direction of the notepad that lay open on the table.  Rarity grimaced in its direction. 

“Yes,” She sighed.  “To tell you the truth though, I’m happy to take a break.” 

The Unicorn leaned in over the table conspiratorially.  Following her cue, Spike too leaned in close. 

“I’m trying to come up with Yak fashion ideas.” She whispered.  “Normally this sort of place isn’t...my cup of tea, but it’s good place to make observations.” 

“You know, I didn’t want to say anything,” The Dragon whispered back, “but it did strike me as kinda odd when I saw you walk in here.  You usually prefer places that are bit...well, fancier.” 

Rarity grinned before sitting back on her stool. 

“You know me so well, darling.” 

“Well,” Spike laughed, “if it makes any difference I did ask for the fanciest drink in the place when I ordered that.” 

Rarity glanced down at her glass before snorting with mirth.  She raised a hoof to her mouth while her body rocked with chuckles.   

“Well then,” She said, having partially recovered and raising her glass, “to fancy.” 

“To fancy,” Spike smiled, raising his tankard and lightly tapping it to Rarity’s flute.   

They both took a small sip of their respective drinks before setting their glasses back on the table.  Rarity swilled the fluid around her mouth with a practiced motion before she swallowed. 

“Not bad,” She stated.  “I’m not sure about ‘fanciest’, but not bad.” 

“You know, that’s pretty much exactly what I said about the stew.” Spike replied, nodding in the direction of the cauldron in the center of the room.  Once again, Rarity laughed softly.  Spike smiled, beginning to feel a little more at ease.  At least now he knew that Rarity wasn’t irritated by his presence.   

“So, what did Twilight have you doing up here?” The Unicorn questioned. 

“Oh, I had a zoning dispute to iron out,” Spike replied, rolling his eyes at the memory.  “There was a single Yak trader way up the mountain, which put him just inside the Dragon territory.  I had to go and politely and carefully explain to him that his options were to either move his stall a couple of hundred feet down, or apply to the Dragonlord for retroactive planning permission and pay some fees.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” Rarity commented. 

“It should have been.” Spike sighed.  “But some of these Yaks can be so...” 

Spike caught himself, right before he said a sweeping statement about an entire race.  Unfortunately for him, Rarity finished the thought for him. 

“Stubborn?” Rarity said with a smile at the corner of her mouth and a raised eyebrow. 

“Sorry,” Spike winced.  “I shouldn’t make generalizations like that.” 

Rarity’s smile widened, much to the Dragon’s surprise.  

“No, I know what you mean.  I’ve had a simply ghastly time trying to market fashions over here.” 

“Really?” Spike gasped.  “You?  But...you’re like the queen of fashion.” 

Rarity placed a hoof to her chest and cast her eyes to the ceiling in mock humility. 

“You’re so sweet.  But yes, I started out by rolling out a few of my old reliables, and I mean outfits that would absolutely slay in Manehatten or Canterlot, and these Yaks just don’t want to know.  So now I have to come up with some lines that are specifically catered to their unique...tastes.” 

“Well, if anyone can do it it’s you.”  Spike stated simply. 

“Spikey-wikey,” Rarity giggled.  “You keep complementing me like this and I’m going to have to ask Twilight if I can borrow you for a while.” 

Spike almost blurted out ‘please do’ but managed to bite the words back.  Instead he settled on blushing slightly and awkwardly chuckling. 

“So, are you up here on your own?” He enquired.  Not the most subtle question he could have asked, but under the circumstances he was desperate to move the conversation along from Rarity’s last flirtatious statement.  Celestia, she’d called him ‘Spikey-wikey'... 

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Rarity sighed.  “Coco and Sassy are too busy in the other branches, so it’s just me.” 

Thankfully, Rarity appeared to have taken the question to be about colleagues rather than about her relationship status. 

“Does that not get a bit...lonely?” Spike probed. 

Rarity arched her eyebrows, slightly taken aback by the question. 

“Well, sometimes,” She confessed.  “But I have my work.  And I’m often popping back to Canterlot for meet-ups with Twilight and the girls, as you know.  We have one scheduled for tomorrow, as it happens.” 

Spike nodded. 

“That’s good.  I’d hate to think of you in this freezing place with no pony to talk to.” 

Rarity offered the Dragon a crafty smile, finally spotting the direction that he was leading the conversation in.  Spike caught the look and knew that he was busted.  Might as well rip the bandage off himself. 

“Besides, I thought you might have a...” 

He faltered at the last hurdle. 

“A what, darling?” Rarity feigned innocence, once again leaning forward, folding her forelegs on the table in front of herself. 

“Never mind,” Spike squirmed, hiding his face in his tankard. 

 “A coltfriend?” She smiled, quite enjoying the Dragon’s discomfort.  “Is that what you were going to ask?” 

The Unicorn cocked her head at Spike, her eyebrows raised and her grin wide.  Spike pursed his lips and struggled to look her in the eye, his face practically on fire. 

“Well, I just figured...you must have, right?” 

“What makes you say that?” Rarity twisted the knife. 

Spike looked into her eyes, silently pleading for mercy.  Don’t make him say it, Celestia please... 

There was a pause that lasted an instant for the Unicorn, an eternity for the Dragon, before Rarity threw her head back and emitted a loud laugh.  The sound of it was like a beautiful otherworldly siren-song that instantly made the tension evaporate from the Dragon’s body.  He slumped slightly in his chair, emotionally exhausted. 

“Spike, Darling, I’m just kidding with you,” Rarity tittered. 

The Dragon smiled weakly, his face still a deeper purple than was the norm. 

“No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” She continued, her expression becoming more melancholic.  She turned away, staring into the fire behind Spike.  “To tell you the truth, things have been rather barren on that front for a while now.” 

“Oh,” Spike said quietly, genuinely upset that he’d brought her down.  “Rarity, I am sorry.” 

Rarity tore her eyes from the fire, suddenly aware that her veil of cheery indifference had flickered for a moment there. 

“It’s fine,” she smiled, her momentary gloomy demeanor vanishing.  “I’m far too busy anyway.  How about you though?  You’re visiting your ancestral lands often enough these days, surely there’s a Dragoness you’ve got your eye on.”  

Spike snorted a laugh. 

“No, no,” He said, taking another sip of his drink.  “Nothing like that.  Besides, I’m not really into...” 

Once again he trailed off.   

“Forget it.” He recovered.  “No, I’m not seeing anyone either.” 

Rarity narrowed her eyes at her friend.  What had he been about to say just then?  Wasn’t into what? 

“Spiiike,” She elongated in a low tone.  “Forget what?  What aren’t you into?” 

Once again Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat and hid behind his drink. 

“It doesn’t matter.” he mumbled. 

“I’ll be the judge of that, darling.” Rarity said sternly.  “Be a brave boy and tell me what you were going to say.” 

Spike drained his tankard and looked at Rarity through terrified eyes.  Her expression was quizzical, but she still looked just as gorgeous as ever.  If the romantic atmosphere and her flirty behavior kept up, he might be in real danger of saying something really, really stupid.  Ok, deep breath.  Just tell her the truth. 

“Dragons.” He uttered quietly. 

Rarity cocked her head at him. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I’m not really into Dragons.” Spike repeated. 

The alabaster Unicorn fixed him with a look of pure fascination, but said nothing, merely taking another sip from her glass, her eyes never leaving his.  He allowed his gaze to drop to the table, where he lightly clawed a single finger at the worn wood.  He wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak if he had to look into those beautiful sapphire pools. 

“It’s...a symptom of being raised by Ponies, I think.” He continued.  “During the years when my puberty hit, I only ever had mares around me, so I think my brain got a little re-wired.  Now I only find Ponies attractive.” 

“Oh Spike,” Rarity reached a hoof across the table and took his hand.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to...” 

“It’s ok,” The Dragon smiled, giving Rarity’s hoof a light squeeze.  “I don’t mind talking about it with a friend, but it’s not something I go out of my way to advertise.”  

“Have you spoken to Twilight about it?” 

“Twilight?” The Dragon balked. “Celestia no.  I dread to think how awkward that would be, for the pair of us.” 

“But maybe there’s something magical she could do?” Rarity said. 

Spike chuckled.  If it were anyone else speaking, he might have taken offence to that.  The implication that the way he was was something that needed fixing.  But this was Rarity, and he wasn’t sure he was even capable of taking offence to anything she said or did.  Besides, her heart was in the right place, she just wanted him to be happy. 

“It’s not something I’d change, even if I could,” he said gently.  “It’s a part of who I am.” 

Rarity nodded, understanding.  She realized that she was still holding his hand, so she slowly relinquished it. 

“Of course,” The dragon stated, folding his arms with his newly freed appendage and grinning, “the downside is that there isn’t a long line of mares who’re keen to cozy up to a Dragon.  So I’m kinda stuck.” 

Rarity nodded again, her expression somber.  Poor Spike. 

“We’re going to need some more drinks,” she said simply, sinking her glass. 
> 4. A Dog in Hell's Chance
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Starlight jotted frantically in her notepad; her eyes glued to the page.  The pale glow of her horn was casting blue light around the surrounding area as she guided the pencil, illuminating her furrowed brow in the darkness.  Twilight regarded her with some interest and loathed as she was to break her friend’s concentration, there was something she felt she had to point out. 

“You know you won’t be able to take that with you, right?” 

“I know that,” Starlight replied, “but the actual act of writing it down makes it much more likely that I’m going to remember all of these details.” 

Twilight nodded sagely, allowing the mare to finish.  The Princess was all too aware of the heavy burden she’d just placed on the headmare’s shoulders, but she didn’t err in her belief that this was the right thing to do.  After a few more seconds of frenzied writing, the magic from Starlight’s horn ceased, and the pencil fell to the desktop with a light tap.   

“So then,” Starlight began, checking her notes.  “You want Cozy Glow, Tirek and Chrysalis freed from their petrification spell and entered into a program with the goal of re-habilitating them back into society.” 

Starlight’s voice was neutral, merely stating the facts.  Twilight couldn’t detect a hint of judgement or exasperation. 

“I do.” Twilight replied, deciding to match her friend’s tone. 

“You want me to lead this program, selecting any and all creatures who will be working under me, assigning roles as I see fit.” 

“That’s correct.” Twilight stated. 

“With the exception of Spike,” Starlight continued, “who you’ll be assigning to me as a Royal liaison.” 

“It just makes sense.” Twilight replied.  “He’ll be able to provide regular progress reports, and his messenger magic is the fastest way to get word to me if you need an intervention.” 

“Also a good way of keeping an eye on me, huh?” Starlight smiled sardonically. 

“That too.” Twilight returned the smile.  “Don’t get me wrong, I trust you completely, but nopony knows better than me how manipulative these three can be.  Heck, Tirek even managed to trick Discord that one time.” 

“Of course he did, Discord’s a half-wit.” Starlight spat. 

Twilight cocked her head with raised eyebrows, acknowledging the headmare’s point. 

“Nevertheless, just think of Spike as an independent observer.  His presence is in no way a reflection on my confidence in you.” 

Starlight allowed her eyes to close for a second as she waved her hoof in the air in front of her. 

“I know.” She said.  “I’m happy to have him on board.  Just as long as he doesn’t mind getting his claws dirty along with the rest of us when necessary.”  

“I’m sure he won’t.” Twilight smiled.  “Though that brings me to my next question; when you say ‘the rest of us’, who did you have in mind?” 

Starlight leaned back in her chair and placed her hooves together.  This was one of the questions she hadn’t been looking forward to. 

“Well, as I said before, it was difficult to come up with names with no information, so it’s a short list.” 

“Go on,” Twilight implored. 

“Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.” Starlight sighed. 

Twilight raised an eyebrow. 

“The Crusaders?” 

“The very same.  They’re my three best friendship teachers, and their combined skillsets cover a wide range.” Starlight said.  “Plus, now that I have a few more details, this project falls right in their wheelhouse; helping Ponies.” 

“They’re so young though,” Twilight cautioned. 

“Aren’t they about the same age you were when Celestia first sent you to Ponyville?” 

“I suppose so.” Twilight sighed, looking away.  That day felt like it had been several lifetimes ago.   

“And if I remember what you told me correctly, you went hoof-to-hoof with Nightmare Moon, what, a day later?” 

“Something like that,” The Princess conceded, glancing at the tabletop. 

“There you are then.” Starlight stated.  “Don’t worry, protecting those girls, not to mention myself and everycreature else will be my top priority.” 

“Which brings me to my final note;” Starlight continued, “myself and my team are to present an action plan for setting the project in motion to you as soon as possible.” 

Twilight looked up. 

“I think that about covers it.  The only thing remaining is who you have in mind to take over your headmare duties.” 

Ah.  There it was.  The other question Starlight hadn’t been looking forward to.  This time she allowed her eyes to drop to the desk. 

“Trixie,” She said quietly. 

Twilight nodded. 

“Trixie’s a good choice.” 

Starlight looked up in surprise.  That hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting from the Princess. 

“Really?” She asked, incredulously. 

“She’s been a full time staff member as long as you have, she knows the ins and outs of the school as well as the students, you two are obviously...” 

Twilight paused to clear her throat.  Neither of the mares found they could meet each other’s gaze. 

“...close.” Twilight continued.  “She’s perfect.” 

Starlight’s face burnt, and for a few moments the dream-space was completely silent. 

“Well, I think that about wraps it up,” Starlight said finally.  “I can have an action plan in your hooves within forty-eight hours.” 

“Good,” Twilight smiled.  “I’ll get Spike to report to you as soon as he’s back from Yakyakistan.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” Twilight said softly.  “I realize how huge this is.” 

“Ah, phissssh,” Starlight hissed sarcastically with a wave of her hoof.  “No big deal.  Reform the three greatest criminals Equestria’s ever seen, I’ll probably have it done before lunchtime tomorrow.” 

Twilight grinned, rising from her seat. 

“I’ll let you get some rest,” she said and began walking off into the dark.  Before she was completely enveloped in the blackness, she threw a meaningful look back at her protégé. 

“Promise me you’ll think about that other thing we talked about.” She called. 

“Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that,” Starlight retorted grimly.  Twilight shot her a final smile and vanished from view. 

Starlight awoke in her bed.  She blinked blearily at her ceiling for a few seconds before magically illuminating her bedside lamp.  Her mind returned to the dream she’d just awoken from and found that the memories were as clear as a bell, no doubt a result of Twilight’s interference.  She cast her mind further back, to the previous evening, before she fell asleep.  She’d hung around the school for several hours, fretting over Twilight’s mission, then gone home, nothing more.  No drinking, no Trixie.  She shook her head silently.  Now she had a new thing to worry about, with Twilight poking her nose into her relationship status.  And then there was Trixie herself...no, no, it was far too early to crack open that particular can of worms.  Starlight glanced at her window, realizing that it was still dark outside.  She was just about to switch off her light, when she shifted her legs uncomfortably.  In confusion, she lifted her duvet and glanced down.  With a scowl, a slow close of her eyes and a shake of her head, she shifted onto the other side of her mattress, and killed the light. 

******************************** 

Rarity and Spike emerged from the tavern, the Unicorn clutching her cloak around herself in an attempt to protect from the bitter cold.  There were fresh flakes of snow softly drifting down upon them, but it was nothing like the ferocity the Dragon had experienced on his earlier walk.  The burning torches cast a sickly yellow hue over everything, but as Spike glanced to his companion, he saw that even now, in these less than glamourous conditions, she still shone like a jewel in the gloom.  She glanced nervously down the street as flecks of ice began to collect in her perfectly coiffured mane.  Spike was beginning to feel the warm effects of the booze he’d partaken in gently massage the back of his brain, and having been inside for a while, and sheltered as they were from the furious wind in-between the numerous dwellings, he wasn’t even feeling the cold anymore.  Not so for Rarity, whom he noticed couldn’t seem to pull her fur collar around her neck tightly enough.  She had been the one who had ordered all their beverages, opening a tab at the bar; Spike suspected that she might be feeling a tad guilty about dragging out the truth about his...orientation earlier, but as far as he was concerned there was no need.  It wasn’t anything he was ashamed of.  Honestly, he’d just been thankful that she hadn’t dragged more out of him, even if there was undeniably a tiny part of him that wished she had.  Still though, the cold fact remained that he had no money, so he’d humbly and gratefully allowed her to ply him with several drinks.  Now it was the early hours of the morning, and they had mutually decided that it was time to call it a night. 

“I’m just a little ways this way,” Rarity spoke, pointing down the street, her voice sounding quiet in the snowy street.  Spike, emboldened by the alcohol flowing through his veins, threw on his best winning smile. 

“Rarity, would you do me the honor of allowing me to walk you home?” 

He offered the Unicorn the crook of his arm.  OK, it was cheesy, he knew that the second the words had left his mouth, like he was hearing someone else speak.  ‘Would you do me the honor’, Celestia wept... 

“Spikey, I’d be delighted,” Rarity smiled, reaching up and slipping her hoof through his arm. 

Her touch once again sent the electricity racing through his body, and the butterflies in his stomach became agitated once more.  He silently prayed that it didn’t show.  There was a tone of relief in the mare’s voice, and Spike realized with a start that she’d been hoping he might ask her that.  He took a look down the street himself and noticed that the further down it went, the more infrequent the lit torches became.  Not a pleasant walk to have to make on your own, especially in the dead of night and when you were a stranger in a strange land.  He mentally chided himself that his reasons for wanting to walk the Unicorn to her destination weren’t more...pure. 

They started down the road, their hooves and feet respectively making soft crunching noises in the newly laid snow.   

“I can’t thank you enough for all those drinks,” Spike breathed, his breath billowing out in the cold air.  “I’ll pay you back, I swear, I just need to-” 

“Spike,” Rarity cut him off.  “That’s not necessary.  You’re one of my closest friends.” 

Spike smiled, glancing away from Rarity and down the street.  There was a reason she was the embodiment of the element of generosity.   

“Well, thank you anyway.” He said simply, lightly squeezing her leg with his arm. 

“Well, it was the least I could do, after I forced you to reveal...that...”  

“You didn’t force me,” Spike lied.  “Anyways, it felt pretty good to get it all out in the open for a change.  I’ve never really spoken about it to anypony before.” 

Rarity looked up at him, surprised. 

“Really?” She asked softly, her words forming a cloud that drifted up past the Dragon’s face.  “I’d have thought that it might’ve been the kind of thing you’d discuss with your male friends on those ‘guys nights’ you have.” 

Spike glanced down, only to see her pale face staring up at him in wide-eyed wonderment.  His nervousness appeared to have returned, this time with reinforcements.  It didn’t help that she was so close now, close enough that he could feel the touch of her fur on his scales and feel the warmth of her body.  He suddenly realized that several seconds had passed, and still he hadn’t replied. 

“Hm?  Oh, no, no,” He chuckled.  “When we get together it’s pretty much just all business.” 

They trudged a few more steps. 

“By which I mean O&O,” he added.   

Rarity smiled an incredulous look up at him.  Clearly, the Dragon’s get-togethers with his friends were very different from the ones she had with the girls.  You could bet that if she were to suddenly start finding Dragons attractive then she’d be asking her friends for guidance. 

‘What do you mean, ‘if’?’ a small voice teased in the back of her mind.   

The thought caused her cheeks to flush, and she became fascinated with the other side of the street.  Yes, well.  That was a train of thought to explore later.  For Celestia’s sake, why did he have to be so sweet and gentlecoltly...  

“You never did answer my question though,” the mare said suddenly.  Spike glanced down at her once more. 

“Hm?” 

“I asked if there was a Dragon you had your eye on,” She continued, the cold climate mercifully doing wonders to hide her blushing.  “So I suppose I’m changing the question to be ‘Is there a Pony you have your eye on?’” 

Spike’s eyes widened by a miniscule amount and there was no hiding the blush that took over his face.  He looked away, and Rarity took the opportunity to allow a smile to break her innocent expression. 

“I...uh...”  Spike stumbled, still not looking at the Unicorn.  “Yes, there’s a Pony that I like, but...” 

“But what, darling?” 

“But I doubt that she’d be interested in me, so I’ve kept quiet.” Spike sighed. 

“Well, you’ll never know unless you ask.”  Rarity said softly, once again thoroughly inspecting the surrounding area. 

They were now at the point in the village where the lights had become sparce, and shadows crept across their bodies like a silk sheet.  Rarity pulled the dragon closer to her. 

“Well...” Spike started, aware of where all this was leading.  “I have a...close friendship with this mare, so I don’t want to risk losing it.” 

“If she’s a close friend, she won’t let something like that ruin what you have,” The Unicorn said, her voice practically a whisper.  “If she’s not interested, that is.” 

The only light now came from the clouded full moon, giving the frozen landscape a ghostly silver appearance.  Rarity could see the outline of her dragon companion, all barrel chested and chiseled, but his expression was lost to her.  What was she doing?  She knew good and well who he was talking about, and he knew she knew.  What did she want?  To make him say it?  What would she say if he did?  The thought created a charge of excitement in her chest.  Did she want him to?  Is that why she couldn’t resist tugging on this thread?  She remembered the time when he’d been a child and he’d almost told her he had a crush on her.  She’d stopped him of course, just to give them both the veil of plausible deniability.  In any case, it wasn’t much of a revelation.  He could scarcely have been more obvious about it if he tried.  With him being the age he was, there wouldn’t be much to be gained by having it out in the open, save for a lingering sense of awkwardness that most likely would have affected their friendship.  But that was then, and this was now, and when she’d shut him down all those years ago, she hadn’t meant that he couldn’t shoot his shot when the time was right.  She just sort of assumed that he’d grown up and had forgotten about the infatuation he’d had when he was a little boy.  She too remembered the instant when she’d thought he’d moved on; when he’d chosen to spend time with Gabby, his Griffon friend over her.  She undeniably felt a pang of jealousy back then, but she tried hard to get over it, chalking the feeling up to the vanity that she needed to work on.  Her little Spikey-wikey had grown up, and he wouldn’t be needing his (admittedly gorgeous) older mare crush any longer, which was as it should be. 

But that wasn’t in line with the signals she’d been getting all evening.  It seemed like the poor darling had been carrying a bigger torch than any of the ones they’d passed by this night.  She should just let this drop.  She was far too old for him anyway, something he’d no doubt realize on his own if she just left him to his own devices.  She would not drag any further confessions from the darling Dragon tonight.  

“A close friend, then?” She remarked.  “Anypony I know?” 

Celestia damn it.  Way to go Rarity.   

She felt him tense up as much as she saw it at that last question.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, so he closed it again.  They walked a few more steps in the darkness. 

“Er...” He began, before he stopped once more.  This time he stopped dead in his tracks, and Rarity felt a tug at her leg as she continued a half a step before she realized.  His body tensed once more, this time more than before, his arm feeling like a coil of solid steel under her hoof. 

“Hold on a second,” he whispered, his eyes looking dead ahead, scanning the darkness in front of them.  Rarity herself then tensed too, reading the signs of his body language.  This wasn’t social discomfort.  This was threat assessment.   

Rarity was about to whisper back to him to ask what was going on, but then she saw it.  The inky shadows a few meters ahead of them and a little to the right seemed to come alive as a hulking form emerged with a low, gravelly chuckle.  An involuntary gasp escaped the Unicorn’s lips. 

The Diamond Dog’s colossal arms dragged on the snow as he slowly stomped towards them, dragging what appeared to be a vicious spiked club behind him.  In the low light, he appeared to be completely grey, but as a cloud shifted past the moon both Dragon and Unicorn were able to pick out a horrific, toothy, drooling grin.  His clothes were ragged, and he bore a black, jewel studded collar around his neck.  His ears were missing various chunks, and he had an angry scar where his right eye should have been. 

“Nice night for a walk,” he laughed, his voice like knives on a slab of granite. 

“Ah!  Er, yes, yes, I suppose it is...” Rarity found herself babbling.   

She’d had dealings with these particular creatures in the past, but she strongly doubted that the whining tactics that served her so well back then would work now.  This specimen looked much meaner, and frankly as though he devoured Ponies like her for breakfast. 

“Can we help you?” Spike questioned, his words colder than the environment into which he spoke them. 

He gently placed his hand on Rarity’s chest and stepped forward, interposing himself between her and their addresser.   

“I’d say so,” the Dog grinned, as two similar looking companions emerged behind him.  “We’ll start with whatever you’ve got in that bag there.” 

Spike snorted in frustration as his eyes flitted between the three.  The two new arrivals were a little shorter than their would-be mugger, and they didn’t appear to have weapons, but their claws and teeth were bared, their breath coming out in ragged clouds.  It was at this point that the smell of them hit Rarity, and the foul stench was enough to cause her to take a step back and drop Spike’s arm, if only to cover her nose.  Without taking his eyes off the three, Spike slumped his backpack off his shoulder and flung it at the feet of the presumable leader. 

“There,” he spat.  “Now leave us alone.” 

With a gleeful giggle, the Dog retrieved the bag and emptied its contents on the ground.  After crouching and sifting through Spike’s meagre belongings for a few disappointing seconds, he stood. 

“That’s not going to be enough.” He growled.  “We’ll take whatever the Pony’s got too.” 

Rarity began frightfully loosening her saddlebag from her back, but Spike stopped her with a light hand on her neck.  She could only look on in open-mouthed amazement as he took another step forward, almost completely obscuring her view of their assailants. 

“No,” he hissed.  “You’re not touching the lady.” 

The Dog grinned even wider, revealing razor sharp teeth that looked as though they could make it through a tree trunk in a single bite.  He continued his slow advance towards the pair, raising his club from the ground to lightly pat it into his other hand. 

“Wasn’t asking, sweetheart,” he laughed.  “Maybe we’ll just take her too, I hear they’re good at finding gems.” 

He almost got within grasping distance of Rarity before Spike’s fist impacted into his nose with a sickening crunch.  For a split second the soft flesh of the Dog’s face wrapped itself around the Dragon’s knuckles, and the Unicorn fancied that the mutt was actually lifted off his feet.  The brute was sent rocketing backwards, creating a meter long shallow trench in the snow before ending on a perfect Dog-angel.  His two underlings exchanged concerned glances between both themselves and Spike, their intimidating body language faltering for a moment.  Then their leader roared from the floor in pain and fury. 

“Argh!  Boys, grab his arms!” 

Snapped back to attention by their superior’s barked order, the two Dogs flitted to his sides with surprising speed given their size.  Rarity gasped in horror as they seized the Dragon by the wrists and held him fast, pulling his arms taught.  He struggled against their grip, but in terms of strength he was no match for them.  The large Dog pulled himself up from the icy dirt and frantically retrieved his club, before rearing up and storming towards Spike.  Blood was pumping merrily from his nose, running down his face and creating red dots on his clothes and the snow that glistened in the moonlight. 

“You’re gonna pay for that one, Dragon-boy!” He barked as he raised his weapon with both hands over one shoulder, aiming a brutal blow directly at the dragon’s head.   

Rarity felt an icicle of fear stab her in the gut, and she found that she could do nothing, not even scream.  She stood frozen, and the horror of the situation made it appear as if she was witnessing the events unfold in slow motion. 

For his part, Spike simply allowed his head to cock to the side, his eyes half-lidded and his expression exasperated, communicating the expression ‘Really, bro?’. 

As his mugger wound up his strike, the Dragon inhaled deeply, before blowing a plume of emerald-green fire straight into his attacker’s face.  Having lived with his fiery ability his whole life, he knew just how long to hold it that he wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but for two glorious seconds the Dog’s head was a raging inferno.  Then Spike sealed his lips, the flames once again contained within him.  The hound stood in open mouthed shock, dropping his club harmlessly to the ground.  His face was a raw pink colour, having been relieved of whiskers, eyebrows, eyelashes and fur.  An acrid smell of burnt hair joined the general stench of the Dogs, creating a nauseating miasma.  The Dog allowed his smoldering face to sit in the thankfully chilly air for another moment, smoke wafting off his raw skin, before he screamed a high pitched scream, ran to convenient snow bank and buried his head in it. 

This time the Dogs at his arms not only exchanged worried glances, but horrified gapes. 

“Plenty more where that came from, boys.” Spike growled, his attention flitting between the two. 

Both of the thugs dropped his arms like they were electric eels, before they sprinted to their fallen comrade, hoisted him up, one at each arm, and disappeared into the night. 

Spike allowed himself a few seconds of staring into the darkness after them, taking several deep breaths, allowing the adrenaline to dilute through his blood.  When he was satisfied that they were indeed gone, he spun on his heel and crouched down to Rarity, putting his eyes level with hers. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quickly.  “Rarity, I’m so sorry that-” 

“Spike!” She cried, throwing her forelegs around the Dragon and weeping into his neck.   

Spike allowed her to cling onto him for a few moments before he gingerly placed his hands on her back. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he whispered softly, stroking at her cloak.  “They’re gone now.”  

“Spike!” She wailed.  “They were going to...  they could’ve...” 

“They didn’t,” Spike shushed.  “It’s all okay.  Just as long as you are.” 

Rarity’s sobs began to subside as she forced herself to calm down, taking several deep breaths.  Slowly she prized herself from the nape of Spike’s neck, mortified to discover that she’d left a mire of tears and run mascara on the Dragon’s scales.  She looked into his eyes, his hands still on her back, but realized that he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were trained past her, back up the road in the direction they’d come from.  His expression was one of mild worry.  She then heard heavy hoof falls behind her, and she spun around in shock. 

‘What now?’ 

Two guard Yaks came bounding down the cobbles towards them, each holding a lantern in their hoof.  They skidded to a halt in front of the pair, and took in the scene, seeing Rarity in tears, Spike looming over her, disturbed snow denoting a scene of a struggle and Spike’s belongings scattered over the icy ground.  As they reached to free their blades from their scabbards with their free hooves, it became evident that they’d leapt to entirely the wrong conclusion.  Spike couldn’t honestly say he blamed them. 

“Yaks warned Dragon!” The closest one bellowed, as his sword came free with a metallic shing.   

Spike once again held his palms up and took a step backwards.  He was just about to protest his innocence when Rarity’s shrill cry erupted in the frozen lane. 

“Oh no you dont!” She yelled, standing and stamping her hoof whilst hastily wiping at the black streaks on her cheeks with the other.  “This Dragon is a hero, and you won’t be accosting him in any way!” 

The closest Yay glanced skyward and gave his horns the tiniest of shakes.  Although Spike couldn’t see the guard’s face beneath the numerous braids, he knew an eyeroll when he saw it. 

“Pony Lady,” The Yaks grunted, his voice suggesting strained patience.  “Please stand aside.  Yaks want to speak with Dragon-man.  If you-” 

Whilst he’d been speaking, his colleague had held up his lantern, and pulled aside a thick clump of hair with his spare hoof, scrutinizing Rarity closely.  After an instant of recognition, he interrupted his friend. 

“Hup, hup, hup, hup,” he clucked, tugging at his co-worker's horn.  The first Yak sighed in frustration, and allowed himself to be led off a few feet to the side, where they whispered, their backs to Rarity and Spike.  Yak speaking volumes being what they were, the Unicorn and Dragon heard every word. 

“That no ordinary Pony!” The second Yak hissed.  “That Miss Rarity.  Close personal friend of Princess of Equestria and Prince Rutherford!” 

The first Yak peered over his shoulder at the pair, before returning to his conversation. 

“Yaks best listen to what she has to say,” The second Yak continued.   

The first Yak grunted in agreement before the pair of them turned back around to regard the pair once more.  Spike did his best to look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping, while Rarity flashed her best ‘I demand to see your manager’ expression. 

“Apologies Miss Rarity,” The first Yak said, his voice now much more gentle.  “Please, tell guard-Yaks what happened.” 

Rarity’s expression softened, relieved that Spike no longer seemed to be in danger of being arrested. 

“Oh sirs, it was just awful!” She started, her voice returning to her refined, melodious accent.  “We were attacked by three Diamond Dogs!  They demanded we hand over our things and then-” 

“Diamond Dogs?” The first Yak snapped angrily.  “In Yak village?” 

“Yes,” Rarity replied, not thrilled at having been interrupted but not allowing the irritation to creep into her voice.  “They tried to rob us and then they were talking about Pony-napping me!” 

The Unicorn allowed her voice to break slightly at her last statement for emphasis. 

“Tried?” The second Yak enquired.  “What happen next?” 

“This Dragon,” Rarity gestured behind her without turning around, “this Dragon protected my possessions and my honor.  He sent them packing with his fire breath.” 

Spike stared at the Yaks with a wide eyes expression, his palms still raised.  The Yaks glanced at each other with a nod. 

“That checks out with what Yaks saw up street,” The second guard said, turning his attention to Spike.  “Green, right?” 

Spike’s eyebrows leapt up his brow, the Dragon momentarily not understanding.  Then the bit dropped, and he blew a miniscule flame out of the corner of his mouth.  A small green glow briefly illuminated his features. 

The guards nodded. 

“Guard Yaks patrol area.  If Diamond Dogs still here, they learn not to trespass in Yak village again.” The first guard said, his hoof returning his blade to his belt.  He strode forward, past Rarity and Spike holding his lantern in his teeth, his hoof hovering over the handle of his weapon.  The second Yak followed, pausing when he reached Spike. 

“Look like Dragon really is hero then,” he said simply. 

Spike shook his head. 

“I just...did what had to be done.” He breathed.  “There’s probably a Dog burrow somewhere nearby, they’re most likely mining somewhere under the mountain.” 

The Yak nodded. 

“Dragon no worry,” he soothed.  “Yaks find it, fill it in.” 

He glanced back at Rarity who was silently observing them. 

“Dragon okay to get Miss Rarity home?” 

Spike’s expression hardened. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good Dragon-man,” the Yak grinned, giving Spike a good-natured slap on the shoulder.  “Here, Dragon take this.” 

He offered Spike his lantern. 

“Thanks,” Spike replied, taking the tin lamp.  With a nod, the Yak hurried off after his friend.  Within moments they had vanished down the street, around a corner and were gone from view.  Spike carefully  set down the light on the ground, and began the miserable task of scraping his things back into his backpack.  Rarity approached slowly, and the Dragon looked up at her with a strained smile. 

“Spike...” She said lightly, her horn illuminating and her magic retrieving his blanket from the snow.  It was clearly sodden, having been dumped on the ground and summarily trampled on, so she magically twisted it and wrung it out as best she could. 

“It’s ok,” the Dragon replied.  “Nothing a little warming up won’t fix.” 

“...you don’t have to walk me the rest of the way, Spike.” She said hesitantly, privately not keen on going anywhere alone right now, but feeling incredibly guilty that her friend had had his overnight bag scattered on the wet ground, not to mention almost being brained and then arrested.   

“It’s not too much further now.” 

Spike looked up at her, his expression incredulous but determined. 

“Rarity, I insist.” 

As she looked into his green eyes, Rarity felt her heart melt.  Such a gentle-Dragon. 

 

The rest of their walk was uneventful, a fact that they were both thankful for.  They’d passed down numerous dark alleys and twisting back streets until, finally, the torch lights that served as crude lampposts became once again more frequent.  They saw no sign of any other creature for the remainder of their walk, and for the most part they’d stayed silent.  Rarity couldn’t speak for the Dragon, but for her part she was still sifting through the torrent of emotions that were running through her mind.  The adrenaline was still a fresh memory in her body, and though her breathing had returned to normal, she still found that she had an unpleasant jittery feeling in her limbs.  Shifting her attention away from her own queasy sensations, she instead focused on her scaled savior. 

Well, now where did she stand on that matter for Celestia’s sake?  Not only was he sweet, caring and the perfect gentle-Dragon, but damn her if she didn’t have to add dashing to the list, too.  And maybe strong, too.  Stallion-ish. 

Rarity gave her head a minute shake, as though the motion would help her thoughts settle.  She still clung to his tree-branch of an arm, enjoying the warmth that radiated out of his scales.  She couldn’t quite believe that he was wandering around in this weather with no shirt on, but then, she wasn’t exactly complaining either.   

This was getting serious.  This had gone way beyond gently teasing an old friend who she knew used to have a crush on her.  Now she was very much entrenched in ‘I hope you still have that little crush darling, because now I’ve got one too’ territory.  She took a deep breath at the realization.  Where did that leave her?  If she were to say something, would that make her a hypocrite?  What if, worse still, she did say something, and it turned out that he had been, in fact, not talking about her earlier when he said that there was a Pony he liked?  What if... 

“Um, is this your place by any chance?” Spike broke the silence suddenly.   

Rarity was yanked from her musings and suddenly became aware of their location.  They were right outside of ‘Rarity 4 U’, Yakyakistan branch.  The building was constructed of much the same materials as the rest of the huts, but the shape of it was more square, more closely resembling the shops that lined the streets in Manehatten.  Two large shop windows had been incorporated into the front on either side of the red wooden door, and through them, past the gold and black lettering of the shop name, there could be seen two mannequins of approximate Yak proportions, bedecked in chic and silky outfits of the mare’s design.  The one on the left was a blue and white ensemble, its wavy and billowing silks made to evoke the feeling of the ocean.  The right one called forth the notion of the forest, lime green and teal, with meticulously stitched floral designs and a leaf shaped chapeau.  The lights were kept extinguished of course, but the moonlight from the now clear sky seemed to be shining directly onto the shop front, giving them both a clear view of the establishment.  On the frosted glass of the door, there hung a dainty sign displaying the opening times, along with the word ‘closed’ in block capitals. 

“Oh!  Ahem, yes, yes, this is me.” Rarity sputtered awkwardly. 

“Wow,” Spike whistled.  “It looks incredible.  We could be in Canterlot.” 

“Oh Spikey,” Rarity scoffed.  “You really are the sweetest.  It has a long ways to go yet, but it’s getting there.” 

The silence returned, neither of them wanting to say goodbye just yet.  Finally, Spike relented. 

“Well, I’ll say goodnight then, Rarity.” 

“Spike,” Rarity whispered, allowing her hoof to slip from the crook of his arm, “I still haven’t thanked you for what you did for me back there.” 

Spike glanced down at her. 

“You don’t have to.” He replied somberly, glancing away.  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have diffused it more peacefully.  I’m supposed to be a diplomat, not a thug.” 

The turn of his head gave the mare an exquisite view of his defined, angular jaw.  The butterflies invaded her stomach.  That was the final straw.  Rarity stood on her hind legs, lightly placing her hooves on the Dragon’s chest.  Her face was level with his, and for a split second she lost herself in the infinity of his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a thug,” she breathed.  “I think you’re my knight in shining armor.” 

She gradually brought her face towards his, and within seconds their lips connected.  The Unicorn’s eyes drifted closed as she allowed her mouth to open a fraction.  Spike followed suit, and their tongues connected, slowly and sensually exploring each other.  Rarity felt a thrill of excitement as she felt the Dragon’s powerful hands lightly rest on her sides and was astonished at the alien but not unwelcome sensation that was going on in her mouth.  His tongue was thin and flat, like she were kissing a ribbon, with a soft forked end that gave her exquisite tickles around her mouth.  As she caressed his chest with her hooves, a primal part of her brain wondered what this tongue might feel like elsewhere.  While that steamy thought lingered in her mind, their kiss came to an end.  Rarity opened her eyes, having some difficulty in rolling them out of the back of her head.  When they re-focused, they found Spike looking at her in astonishment.  She smiled, and planted a tiny kiss on his snout.  His hands hadn’t left her sides, so she slid her hooves over his chest and around his back.  Since Spike seemed to have temporarily lost the power of speech, Rarity spoke. 

“I’d like to see you again soon,” she purred, the clouds of her breath billowing out and mingling with his.  “Where are you staying?” 

“I, er...um.” Spike articulated. 

Rarity narrowed her eyes at him.   

“I haven’t actually sorted out anywhere to sleep just yet,” he admitted, glancing down. 

“Wh-” The Unicorn stammered, not quite believing what she was hearing.  “You mean to tell me you came all this way in the middle of the night and you don’t even have anywhere to stay?!” 

“I was going to try to find a hotel, but it seems like noyak accepts bits here-” 

“Well, no, they wouldn’t, would they, darling?” Rarity interjected.  “You didn’t even bring any Yak drachma?” 

“Um, no.” Spike squirmed, wishing that they could just go back to the kissing.  “I had some gems I was planning to eat, but I gave all those to the bar Yak for some drinks-” 

“You what?!” Rarity near shouted, aghast.  “This is so typical of your kind!” 

“Dragons?” Spike raised an eybrow. 

“Males!” Rarity spat.  “Honestly, how does it work?  You just think ‘Boy go here now, hurr hurr’ and off you pop, with no thought to the consequences?”  

Spike shifted uncomfortably on the spot.  It was hard to fault that logic, especially when you weren’t wearing a coat or shoes. 

“It’s ok, I’ll just go and find those guards again,” Spike pleaded.  “I’m sure I’ll have no problems finding somewhere to sleep once I explain who I am-” 

“Oh, you mean the ones who are currently chasing Diamond Dogs Celestia knows where?” Rarity’s tone softened.  She wasn’t really mad, just exasperated that the Dragon could be so careless. 

“Yeah, uh, those ones...” Spike said quietly.  He relinquished Rarity’s waist and accepted his scolding, his eyes once again dropping to the floor.  The Unicorn slackened her grip around the Dragon but didn’t let go just yet. 

“Well, there’s only one thing for it,” she stated in a matronly tone.  “You shall just have to stay with me.” 

“Whu-wha?” Spike stumbled.  “Rarity, no, I couldn’t possibly-” 

The white creature silenced him with a raised hoof.  

“Darling,” she said firmly, a smile at the corner of her mouth, “it’s not up for debate.” 

 

Spike followed Rarity into her shop and after the Unicorn had magically illuminated the light hanging from the ceiling, was momentarily taken aback by how familiar it felt.  There was a work bench, nigh identical to the one he’d seen her at so many times when he was small, strewn with needles, thread, scissors and off-cuts of fabric.  Next to it there stood a robust iron sewing machine, on a stand with a hoof pedal for power.  The interior was all polished pine, from the floor to the walls to the ceiling, the seamstress had obviously spared no expense when having the place built.  There were several more Yak shaped mannequins dotted around the room, each wearing an ensemble that were in varying stages of completion.  He found that the smell of the place took him right back to his childhood, to long before his wings had sprouted, to the days when he’d eagerly bound into the boutique, desperate to help Rarity with whatever he could.  It was the smell of perfume, of dress-makers chalk, of various exotic fabrics and of course, of Rarity herself, an elegant floral aroma.  The only thing missing was a surly cat stalking the premises. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed, his voice now sounding loud and tinny now that they were out of the sound-absorbing effects of the snow.  “It’s like being back in the Carousel Boutique.” 

Rarity threw him a smile as she locked the front door. 

“I have a small living quarters in the back, though I’m afraid it’s not the Bitz,” she intoned, breezing through a pair of satin curtains at the back of the room.  “This way.” 

Spike followed after her, clutching his backpack and newly acquired lantern close.  He took a moment to extinguish the flame inside the latter; with this many hanging drapes and other flammable finery around, he didn’t need any accidents.  That done, he stepped though the drapes and found himself in a tiny bedroom.  There was a large-ish bed, a small bookshelf crammed with Shadow Spade novels, a bedside table with a lamp, and little else. 

“I’ll just be a minute, darling,” she said as she slipped through a door to the left of the room and closed it lightly behind her.  On the other side, Spike soon heard the sound of running water, and so correctly assumed that it was the bathroom.  It was only then that he made a horrifying realization.  There was only one bed.   

Well, of course there was.  Why would there be more than one bed?  Stupid, stupid Dragon.  Ah well.  It’d have to be the floor for him.  As he removed his slightly damp blanket from his bag and laid it out, he reasoned that he’d slept in worse places.  Tartarus, when he was living with Twilight all those years ago in Ponyville his bed had been a dog basket for Celestia’s sake.  Whilst Rarity was performing her ablutions, he took the opportunity to swap the trousers he was wearing for his spare pair, the latter being both cleaner and drier.  He’d just treat them like pajamas for the time being.  Ordinarily he would have retrieved Rare-bear from his bag too, but under the circumstances he thought she’d forgive him for leaving her in his bag’s front pocket.  Thank goodness the Diamond Dog hadn’t discovered her while he was rifling through his things.  He lay the backpack down at the top of the blanket as a makeshift pillow, and lay down.  The damp fabric was cool against his scales, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle and besides, it would warm up and dry out soon enough.  Just being this close to Rarity was all the comfort he needed, and besides...after that kiss...yowzer.  Everything had moved so fast since that happened, or maybe it was that his brain wasn’t really processing things as well as it normally did, but he hadn’t really stopped to think what that meant.  Did...did he have a chance with Rarity?  A real, tangible, honest to Celestia chance?  The thought was so sweet, so alluring, so-everything-he'd-ever-wanted he almost didn’t want to believe it was real, to save himself the crushing disappointment when it turned out to, in fact, not be.  But the idea that it wasn’t real just didn’t line up with the facts.  A wide, goofy grin damn near split his face in half.  He felt giddy, exquisite joy and more excitement than he thought he’d ever felt in his life, like he wanted to run a mile, climb a mountain and pick a fight with a Bugbear all at the same time.  It was difficult to describe.  Maybe like what Pinky Pie went through on a daily basis?  As he lay there, wondering how he’d got to be so lucky, the reason for his new-found euphoria emerged from the bathroom. 

“Apologies,” she said as she re-entered the room, sans makeup.  “I just had to-” 

She stopped as she noticed the Dragon grinning dumbly on her floor. 

“Spikey,” she asked quizzically, “what are you doing down there?” 

“Hm?” Spike hummed up at her.  “Oh, well, there’s just the one bed, so I thought...” 

“Honestly Spike,” she chided with amusement.  “You really think I’d have you sleep on the floor after what you did for me tonight?” 

“Um, no...?  But I just thought that-” 

“I trust you don’t mind sharing.” 

The colour drained from Spike’s face, and the moisture from his mouth. 

“I’m sorry?” He replied in a voice that was too squeaky to be his own.   

His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth and making the words that he wanted say felt like a monumental effort. 

“The bed, darling.  It’s a queen size, so there should be plenty of room for the both of us.” 

Spike simply stared up at her dumbfounded for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than several hours. 

“Yeah,” he said, the high pitched, not-his voice showing no signs of abating.  “Yeah, I’d be okay with that.” 

He accepted her hoof to help him up off the floor and vacated his long-suffering blanket. 

“Tsk.” Rarity tutted.  “And on this sodden thing too.” 

She returned to her bathroom and deposited his blanket in her laundry hamper.  While she did so, Spike carefully peeled back the duvet, and slowly, gently, as though he were laying down on a bed of nails, lowered himself onto her mattress.  Once there, he shunted himself across so that his back was just touching the cool wood of her wall.  Nopony was going to accuse him of taking up more than his fair share of space, no siree. 

Presently, the Unicorn re-entered the bedroom, closed the bathroom door and slipped into the bed beside him.  She lay on her side, facing away from him, but twisted her upper body around to look at him. 

“Just so you know, this isn’t the type of thing I’d normally do on a first date,” she smiled softly.  “But these are exceptional circumstances.” 

Spike could only nod in understanding and agreement.  Rarity smiled at him once more, planted a final kiss on his lips, then rolled back over and killed the lights with a ping from her horn.  She lay there still, her breathing becoming slow and rhythmic.  

Inside Spike’s mind, a heated debate began. 

‘You should put your hand on her,’ his brain said. 

‘Are you crazy?!’ Spike mentally replied. 

‘Nothing creepy, just, you know, as a sign of affection.  On her cutie mark, maybe.’ 

‘How is that not creepy?  It’s a complete violation of the trust she’s placed in us, and you should be ashamed for even saying it.’ 

‘Oh come on, Dragon!  I was there for that kiss you know, I saw the whole thing.  I know you’re feeling a little nervous about this, and to be honest I can’t quite believe it myself, but she obviously wants you.  You’re looking at an open goal here, my friend.’ 

‘No.  No, I won’t do it.  To touch her without permission – while she’s sleeping, no less...it’s just sleazy.  And furthermore–’ 

‘Sirs,’ a third voice joined the discussion.  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but...’ 

‘Not now body!’ Spike snapped.  ‘Can’t you see brain and I are having a conversation?!’ 

‘I know, it’s just...we’ve got movement sir.’ 

Back in the real world, Rarity reached behind herself, grasped Spike’s hand in her hoof, scooched her butt backwards towards him, made herself the little spoon, and placed his hand on her belly, her hoof gently holding it in place.  She moaned in contentment and gave a little wriggle, before settling back down to sleep. 

‘Ho, ho, hooooo,’ brain chuckled.  ‘That right there is one heck of a thing.  You doing okay there, buddy?’ 

Spike could make no reply.