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The next day was a grey day for Spike, despite its being a clear, sunny one. Their early and unexpected return caused Pinkie Pie to quickly bump up her planned "Welcome Home" party, but Twilight managed to put a bug in her ear that Spike was not really in the mood for a celebration. Pinkie suggested a change of theme to a "Friends Are Your Wings" party, but Applejack managed to persuade her that that might be an even worse idea, under the circumstances. Reluctantly, Pinkie Pie agreed to abandon a party for Spike and Twilight of any sort, for the time being.

All Spike had to take his mind off his troubles was to pester Twilight to keep him busy. She quickly ran out of important things to take care of and simply ran down the list in her head of chores she'd always meant to get around to until at last they were trivialities almost beyond mention. Once they would have been beneath Spike and he would have resented them, but now they were like oxygen, and she seemed to understand that. "I could use some more ink... oak leaves for a book-binding spell... find out from the pegasi if there'll be good seeing tonight..." He did it all.

His friends watched, pensively, over the days that followed for the return of the jovial, sardonic young friend who had journeyed to Canterlot so full of hope, but as they stretched into weeks without any sign of his return, they began to despair of ever seeing him again. Increasingly, he was unpleasant company, sullen and bitter, impatient, and prone to spending time by himself. And they missed him, even though he was still there.

Through it all, Spike had managed to keep his feelings pointed inward. But more and more, that was hard to do. Every so often one of his friends would make a suggestion, and though he knew they were only trying to be helpful, he was finding it harder and harder to keep his temper and simply thank them and ignore their useless suggestions.

And he began to wonder if maybe the time hadn't come for him to leave.

Rainbow Dash, of course, was the one whose patience ran out first, and when it did, she granted herself license to be plain with Spike. She found him, one afternoon, on some pointless little mission, and flew down to buck him out of his funk with her homespun wisdom.

"Heya, short, purple, and grumpy!"

"Oh... heya, Dash."

"You're such a nut. The answer to your problem is right in front you!"

"Oh, it is, huh?" He didn't look at her. He just plodded along the path, hoping she'd sense his mood and go away.

She kept pace with him in the air over his shoulder. "Spike, what's wrong with you? You live with one of the most talented magicians in Equestria! There's nothing Twilight can't do! Getting your wings should be a snap for her if she just sits down and uses her egghead powers."

Spike fumed, embarrassed for himself and defensive of Twilight. "It's not like that. Really. There isn't anything Twilight can do about it. It's... it's like cutie marks. She couldn't—"

"Oh, it's not like cutie marks," Rainbow Dash snorted. "That's about who you are! Wings are just a part of your body like arms or tails or hooves! ...Well, toes. Twilight made wings for Rarity, didn't she?"

"Yeah, and look how that turned out."

She darted right in front of him, cutting him off. Her cheerfulness was infectious... almost. She babbled, "Yeah, but Rarity wasn't born to have wings. You were!" she reminded him, poking his chest. "So think how much better it should turn out! Come on. Let's march up to Twilight and tell her, 'Sister, your priority is to crack those books and get Spike—'"

"Rainbow Dash, get off my back!!"

She looked at him in shock.

She deserved it. She was interfering and she wouldn't take the hint. That should have been it. But there was so much more, and now that the dam was burst, it all came out. Straight at her.

"You don't know what I'm going through. You don't know what you're talking about. You're not a dragon, you're a pony. So stop telling me what to do, because you don't know."

She opened her mouth and took a breath, but she didn't say anything.

He did. "It's typical. The whole bunch of you. You think you know everything. Act like you have all the answers," he told her, twirling his hand in the air. "But when it really counts, nothing. Zip. Empty." He snapped his fingers. "The dragons told me more in five minutes than you all learned about us in a thousand years." His eyes narrowed to slits and he could taste acid in his throat. He said, "They laugh at you, you know. At how ignorant you all are. You know what they think of you? A bunch of milk-suckers. That's it. That's how much you impress dragons."

That was it. It was said and couldn't be unsaid. Though outwardly he stood his ground, inwardly he was cringing. There was a hurt, furious rage in her eyes, and for a moment, he was sure she'd attack him. Somehow it was worse when she didn't. "Fine," she said. "Fine. I only wanted to help. But I guess you're right. How could a milk-sucker ever help a great dragon." And she left him, climbing into the sky.

He chased after her, calling. "Rainbow Dash, please! I didn't mean it! Rainbow Dash, come back! I'm sorry! Rainbow Dash!" But she was a speck. "It's just..." He sighed, and sank to his knees, unbelievably even more alone now than he had been before.

"I have to go," he whimpered softly. A breeze curled around his shoulders and seemed to nod sadly against his cheek.

Quietly, over the next day or two, he began choosing the things to take with him. He didn't move a thing, just mentally earmarked it. But everything he looked at was full of memories. Everything had its own cord of memory that tied him to Equestria, Canterlot, Ponyville. There was a warm, joyful splash of Twilight in everything he owned, and now there were others, too. Gifts from Applejack, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Cheerilee. Hoof-made cards from the Cutie Mark Conquerors back when they were still "crusading". And he began to see there was nothing he could take with him. Not if he really meant to go. Any one of these things would curve his path and bring him, finally, back again. If he went, it would have be with nothing more than he brought coming out of the shell... himself alone.

But that was too stark to imagine. Could he really do that? Rather than dwell on that aspect of it, for the moment, he continued losing himself in the little chores he bothered Twilight for. He was standing at the edge of town on just such a pointless errand, gazing across the plain at distant mountains, when he heard his name spoken softly behind him. Beautifully. Of course... it was spoken by Rarity.

His spirits brightened, just a little, and he turned to her, putting on a false face for her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," she said. "I... I know you've been busy lately, but we did promise each other that lunch before your trip, and this just looked like a good time to approach you and proffer an invitation."

"You're right," he said. "I guess I've been so busy. When would be good for you?"

"I thought today, in fact. I've prepared a nice repast that I hope will delight."

"Okay... great! Let me go and see if Twilight is free, and we'll—"

Rarity reached out a hoof to stop him. "Well, actually... darling... I adore Twilight and enjoy her company immensely. You know that. But... I was thinking of a casual little tête-à-tête... just you and me."

Spike stared. "Oh. Uh..."

"Well, unless, of course, you'd be more comfortable with Twilight there."

It had nothing to do with Twilight, and everything to do with how he was feeling. Just about the last thing in the world Spike wanted to do right now, feeling as he did, was endure a bright, friendly luncheon conversation with Rarity, or anyone else. The only thing he wanted less was to disappoint her. So he decided it in an instant. "No, I'd love that," he said. "Let's go."

She made chitchat about this and that she was working on as she led him along to the Carousel Boutique. The sign on the shop was already turned to say 'closed for business', and she left it that way as she ushered him into the cool, shaded space inside. Off to the side of her workspace was the cozy little sitting room she sometimes used for dining when it was just her and someone else, as it was today. She smiled. "You know, ordinarily, I'd hire someone to serve, but I didn't want you feeling all formal," she said. "Just a pleasant little get-together between good friends, hmm? Get comfortable and I'll be right back with the soup du jour."

Spike nodded and eased himself into the chair obviously placed for him at the small, round, marble-top table in the centre of the room. He looked around at the ornate details of the room, the carved oak, the silvered inlays, the careful chisel work that had gone into the fireplace. Everything spoke of care and attention to detail. Of getting it right.

She trotted back in with two bowls of soup accompanying her in the air. "Lunch is served," she said, and set before him a strange, pale blue concoction he had never seen for. "Oh, I hope you like it," she said. "It's a pearl bisque, with just a hint of sapphire."

Spike was astounded. "It's a soup made of gems?"

"Exactly. I made it just for you, obviously." She set a rather more conventional bowl of a vegetable puree before herself and sat down. "Oh, please, give it a try. I've been dying to hear what you think."

He raised the spoon to his mouth and it was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before. How had she managed it? "Rarity, it really is terrific," he told her.

"Oh, I'm so relieved," she said. "I haven't been able to taste it myself, of course. Making it was like wandering the forest with a blindfold and hoping one is on the right road."

"Did you invent this?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "I went to Sugar Cube Corner, asking after something special. And do you know, Cup Cake found a very, very old recipe for just that? There must have been a dragon pass through Ponyville sometime before! Or maybe it's even older than that, I don't know. But I do know it requires some magic to make it. Culinary magic. It wasn't easy... I surprised myself. I didn't know I had it in me," she said, blushing at bit at her own immodesty. "But I wanted something special. For you."

He didn't want to eat it. He wanted to wear it. "I don't know what to say."

"If you enjoy it, that's enough," she told him. Her horn glowed and she tipped her spoon into her own soup at the edge of the bowl, and let him eat for a few minutes without troubling him to converse. When the soup was done, she announced the main course, and returned with it. This time, they were having the same thing, which was asparagus tips and slivered potatoes and carrots in a subtle cream garlic braise. Conversation was sparse and mostly about the process of preparation. Dessert was duly served; a delicate oat pastry topped with strawberry preserves for her, and gemstones drizzled with chocolate syrup and sprinkled with icing sugar for him. He looked at the exquisitely-arranged plate and again felt the urge not to eat, but preserve what he saw forever. A ruby, an emerald, a sapphire, an opal, and a diamond. They quietly radiated the obvious care with which they'd been pain-stakingly selected. They were flawless, aged, and to him, mouth-watering. He savoured them, but as he did so his eyes were on her.

"And, so," she said, finally, hesitantly. "This little trip of yours... how did that go?"

He looked down at his empty plate and skated his claw around in the syrup. "Didn't Twilight say?"

"Well... we might have exchanged a word or two. Just in passing. I was hoping you might be able to fill me in on the things she couldn't."

He moved his mouth around, trying to think of what to say. He didn't want to just pass it off as nothing. She was asking, and it was clearly not easy for her to pry. She deserved an answer. Finally he managed to say, "It didn't go all that well."

"No, I... I didn't think it had. It's no secret that you've been unhappy since you got back. I was hoping..."

Hoping? Hoping what? he wondered. "Thank you," he said, smiling wanly. "I appreciate it. But I don't think there's anything you can do." He sighed and looked away. "I don't think there's anything anypony can."

"Spike, please. I can't stand seeing you like this. Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can."

"What could be so bad you can't share it with the ones who love you?"

She drew closer and sat alongside him. Spike closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "It's about my wings."

"I was sure it was."

"I should have wings, Rarity, but I don't. I should be bigger by now. That's what we went to Canterlot to research."

"Yes... Twilight said. She told us that there was very little of help to be found there."

He peered at her from the corners of his eyes. "Did she tell you we found a spell that would let me go ask those dragons I was hanging around with?"

"Yes! Those awful brutes! What help could they possibly be to anyone?"

"Plenty, actually. That I'll never get my wings. That I'll always be... a 'fledgling'."

Rarity said nothing with her voice. Her eyes said more than words could.

His voice shook. "I don't think I can stay here."

"Spike, don't say that... please."

"I don't want to go. But I can't be what I'm supposed to be here. But if I leave, who will I become?" His eyes glistened like a pond dappled by rain. He said, "I'm trapped, Rarity. I can only be who I'm supposed to be here. But I can only become what I'm supposed to be out there. With them."

She reached up to him, touching his face. "Spike, we all know the things you've just told me already. But I know you and I know there's more you're not saying. I can see it your eyes every time you look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what they said to you."

"I can't, it's too—"

"Spike! Now."

"I thought maybe getting your wings was like getting your cutie mark. And in a way it is, but it isn't. Getting your cutie mark is about discovering who you are. For a dragon, getting your wings is about someone else discovering who you are."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't think I understand that, exactly."

"Rarity, please. Just accept that it means I have to be with other dragons."

There was silence. He thought it was over. Until she said, "I'll go with you."

"What?"

"I said... I said, I'll go with you. To that place. To them. You can't go alone. I'll stay with you a while. Till you're settled. Till I'm sure you'll be okay. Till I'm sure you don't need—" She turned away. "—us. Me. Anymore."

"You would do that?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely."

"But wouldn't you be scared?"

"Terrified is the word, I think. But I can't face the idea of you going alone."

Spike was overcome. "I don't know what to say. But... I couldn't take you with me. Because of the reason I have to go."

"You're still keeping something from me."

"To get my wings, Rarity... I have to find a girl."

She drew a sudden breath. Held it. Freed it in a long sigh. "I think I understand now."

He nodded.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Someone else. Someone else who discovers you. Celebrates you in their heart."

"I think that's about right," he said. "It sounds nice that way."

"Spike... this girl you have to find... did they say she has to be a dragon?"

He looked at her. "Well, no... I don't think so. They didn't say that exactly. But who else... I mean..."

She gazed out the window into the warm summer day. At the butterflies courting, at the trees slowly dancing in the breeze. She said, "I've known you a long time now. And I've known how you've felt about me almost as long. At first it was flattering. Being noticed by a boy, his first crush, especially one so different. I used to think it was... well... a little bit funny. I thought you'd grow out of it."

She turned to look at him. "But you didn't. You kept finding new ways to make me feel special. And I guess I came to expect it. Count on it, even. I took advantage of it. I even used to find ways to test your patience... see if it was real. Oh yes, yes I did. And I'm sorry. But every time I did, you just came back stronger. And I started to realize I had feelings for you too."

She turned away again. "But we were so different. And you seemed so young. But I guess if you were a pony, you'd be a young stallion by now. You certainly act like one. Brave. Caring. Devoted... yes, that particularly. You put everyone else first. Especially me. And I'd find myself at odd little moments wondering what you'd think of something... a pattern, a song, the view across a valley. Or if you might disapprove of something it struck me to do. What I mean is... you began to matter. Sometimes I thought of you in other ways, too. More mature ways. But right away I'd tell myself that was silly, and shoo those thoughts away, till the next time. But now... now there's this. This... calling. Because I think that's what it is. And those thoughts and feelings begin to make sense to me now. Maybe something, somewhere, has been telling me what I needed to do all along... but I just wouldn't listen."

Spike was very quiet, and he could not even dare to look at her. So she reached out and turned his face to hers. "What I'm saying is, Spike... my darling... if this girl of yours doesn't have to be a dragon, and... if you really do feel about me the way I think you do... I'd be honoured to help you make your wings."

He didn't speak. Just searched her eyes. She smiled into his. Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered to him. "Do you think you'd like that?"

She felt him nod, softly.

"There's no hurry," she told him. "But... if you think you're ready... we might see to it now."

He spoke so softly she barely heard him. "Please."

She rose slowly and took a step. "Come with me," she said. With her eyes on him, she moved with slow grace towards her bedroom stairs.

Spike stepped off the chair and, steadying himself, he followed her. She waited for him at the foot of the stairs. With a flick of her eyes she let him know it was alright, so he reached out, placing his hand on her flank, and like that, she led him to her room.

He had seen her bedroom before. Glimpsed it, really. Never like this. Her horn glowed, lowering the shades most of the way, and bright afternoon became like golden evening. Behind them, her bedroom door swung gently shut. He watched as she crawled onto her bed and gazed warmly at him.

He felt as though his feet were bolted to the floor, and was almost amazed to feel them lift, and slowly cross the space to her bed. He set his knee on it, and climbed onto it.

"You're trembling," she said. She couldn't help but give a soft laugh. "Oh, darling, that's perfectly adorable." She put a hoof on his chest to steady him.

"I feel like my heart's going to burst," he said, his voice shaking.

"No one can hurt you here, my love. And we have all the time in the world."

My love. She called me 'my love'. His soul soared. At last he dared, and he brought his face close to hers. She met his mouth with her own.

She tasted like oats and strawberries, and he knew that mingled flavor would be sacred to him for the rest of his life.

For her, his tongue was a smooth notched ribbon, like something she would choose at the start of a project, driven by an exciting urge to create something glorious.

They took their time, lying together caressing, murmuring sweetly to one another as the curtains billowed beside the windows, stirring the air in the room. Increasingly it was filled with a new scent of hers, something enticing and hungry, and he felt himself emerging from concealment. At some point something unspoken passed between them, and she turned belly down in presentation. He drew himself up behind her, placing his hands on her flanks. With a graceful arch of her neck and a paddock whinny she shook her mane. Leaning in, he joined himself to her.

To him, the sensation was like diving into lava again... only much, much better. Hearing his name forged in her throat to be born shivering from her mouth was the sweetest thing in the world.

To her, the sensation of his intimate touch was smooth and cool, quickly warming to her own body temperature. The passion woven into his tremulous moans above and behind her was more valuable than any gem she had ever known.

And so they moved together, lovingly, first tenderly and then urgently, until at last came the moment. Even through tightly clenched eyes, Rarity saw the light that suddenly filled her room, and opening them, she looked over her shoulder and watched the miracle. Arching and writhing, bathed in golden light and gossamer sparkles, Spike seemed to grow before her eyes... his tail, lashing like a sword behind them... his limbs, thicker and drawn-out... his head longer, flatter, lifted up on a slender neck from shoulders broader and stronger... and then, a pulse, a burst of blinding light, from which emerged, sleek and spread above them, the mark of their triumph... his wings. They touched the ceiling, and then folded down to cover them both like a blanket... a blanket they had made together.

His eyes were shut; he was lost in the throes of their union. He barely heard her calling his name. He opened his eyes and gazed down at her, puzzled, for a moment, about how her face had gotten so far away...

"Spike," she cried. "Spike, darling, look! Look at yourself!" Drawing a hoof from beneath her body, she directed his gaze to her mirror, and he beheld himself: tall, slender, powerful. Easily as large as her, maybe more.

"Is that... is that me?"

"It certainly is... Oh, Spike... look how handsome you are. Oh, love, I'm so proud of you..."

He turned his shoulders and gazed at himself in wonder. And then he flexed, and spread his wings, more than twice the span of his now longer arms. "My wings," he gasped, running a claw slowly along the crest. "Rarity... I have my wings..."

"I'm so happy for you," she said. For a long moment, he stared at himself, lost in what he saw, scarcely able to believe it. Finally she softly said, "...You'll want to go try them out now, I imagine. Take your place in the sky..."

Her question broke him away from self-admiration, and he looked down at her. He said, "Not now." His larger, powerful hands wandered over her body, and with his new, longer neck, he brought his head down to her shoulder. They kissed.

The single shadow they cast grew longer as the sun went down, until at last it slipped below the horizon, leaving them together in the darkness. It was broken by the glow of Rarity's magic as she raised the matchstick to Spike's lips, and he brought it to life with a tongue of green flame. He watched as the match made its way around the room, lighting the candles that would burn all night. A night of wonders, that seemed like many nights all stitched together into a cloak of adventures for him by Rarity. The night was long and balmy and full of love, and they explored one another, body and soul. At last a deep and restful sleep took them, and the candles flickered out.

When she opened her eyes again the light in the room told her it was already mid-morning. She looked over where he'd been lying and saw only the new, leather-bound wings. He was sitting on the edge of her bed. She could see his face in the mirror, sad and anxious. "Spike?" she said. "Darling, what's wrong? Whatever could be wrong?"

He said nothing for a moment, then turned his head to look at her. "I don't want it to be... just this," he told her, spreading his wings a fraction, just enough so she knew what he meant.

She reached out a hoof, touching him. "Oh, Spike," she said, "it doesn't have to be."

The fear left his face, and his eyes brimmed with tears. She kissed them away.

They brunched together, laughing easily, their long pent-up feelings for one another unbound and flowing free. At last she brought him to door. "Are you ready to show Ponyville the new Spike?" she said.

He rubbed his wrist with his hand. "I don't know," he said. "Do you think they're ready?"

"Their readiness be damned," she said. "Let's dazzle them."

He smiled, and she opened the door. Rarity stepped into the light, followed by Spike.

Pinkie Pie happened to be outside. "Heya, Rarity! Heya... Spike?" She stopped, gaping at him.

The large purple dragon with Spike's voice said sheepishly, "Heya, Pinkie. Uh... seen Twilight lately?"

"Spike?" she repeated.

Rarity rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, sweetie, this is Spike."

"What happened to you?" Pinkie gasped.

Spike cleared his throat and gave a little half-smile. "Rarity happened to me."

"Huh?" Pinkie considered it for a moment and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Ohhhhhh," she said. Then she smiled. "I knew it!" she yapped, hopping into the air. "I knew you two would get together! I just didn't think you'd be so big."

"So, uh, seen Twilight?" Spike repeated.

"Not today, but wait right here! I'll go get her!" Pinkie dashed off before they could stop her.

"I guess we wait here," Rarity said, and they sat down together outside the Carousel Boutique.

There was a distant cry of "Whoa!" and suddenly Rainbow Dash appeared in their midst. "Spike? Spike?!" she sputtered.

Spike smiled, and threw his wings wide. Rainbow Dash stumbled back, then exploded into the air with glee. "You got your wings! How'd you do that?"

He looked at Rarity. She said, "We worked on them all night together." Spike chuckled.

Rainbow Dash gave them a confused smile. "Huh?" she said. She shook her head. "Ah, never mind. You tried those things out yet?"

"Not yet," he told her. "Still a groundling."

"Well, get up here!" Rainbow Dash urged, pawing at the air. "What are you waiting for?"

"Go on," Rarity said, nuzzling him. "It's what you wanted."

He looked around him and cleared his throat. "First one who laughs gets a hairdo flambé," he joked. He fixed his gaze on the blue mare who was so hurt the last time he'd seen her. "Dashie... I'm sorry for what I—"

"Hey, shut up," she told him, smiling. "Enough with the yappin', make with the flappin'."

He was grateful for her forgiveness. He yearned to hug her. But then she would hit him. Instead, Spike got to his feet, steeled himself, and spread his wings. Then he gave a powerful downward flap, and lifted himself two feet off the ground. He settled back down, toes in the dirt, and shuddered. "Wow," he breathed. "They really work!"

"And how!" said Rainbow Dash. "Do it again! And this time, keep flapping! That's the trick, by the way" she teased.

Spike took to the air beside her, shakily, bobbing awkwardly, but keeping aloft. "That's it!" Rainbow Dash said. "Hey, everyone! Come over here and look at Spike!" she called. But even without her announcement, other ponies had begun to notice and gather around. They were full of questions and wonder.

"There he is! Look! There he is! See? Like I told you!" It was Pinkie Pie, back with Twilight. Spike looked up. Twilight stopped, some distance away, her mouth gaping.

"Spike...?"

He smiled and waved.

But there was a hint of sadness in her eyes when he searched her features, and his heart broke, just a little. He knew somehow that he had hurt her. It couldn't be helped, but he wished it away, all the same. He flew over to her, his awkwardness forgotten, and landed before her.

Twilight's eyes flashed back and forth between Spike and Rarity, and Spike's wings. Slowly, a smile, bittersweet, formed on her snout, and she nodded, understanding. "Congratulations, Spike," she told him, sincerely. "I'm glad you found your way."

He didn't say anything. He just came forward and held her. And she held him too.

In a field near Cloudsdale, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy cheered Spike on as he darted between obstacles, blasted through clouds, and set rings on fire before passing through them. Dashie blew her whistle and waved him on, faster, higher, stronger. Below a crowd of his friends were gathered, watching, and Rarity beamed, her eyes never leaving him.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I learned what might be the greatest lesson of my life this week. For a long time I've been worried I would have to choose between who I am, and what I am. I didn't think any of my friends could understand or help me, and that I was going through it alone. But I know now that's not true, and it never was true. They do understand me, and accept me, and what I am isn't a problem anymore. One pony in particular has brought these two discordant parts of my nature into harmony: Rarity, who is after all the element of generosity. In fact, she understands and accepts me so much, that I hope you will be free sometime in the spring... because we would like to humbly beseech you to officiate at our wedding.

Yours truly,

Spike.

"And that was it," Spike said. "That was how it really began..." Physically, he was in the cave with them, but he was miles away.

Dusty was gazing up at Spike, who had opened up his heart to her. She could hardly believe that a few hours earlier the very sight of him had startled her. Now he was beautiful and she felt only affection.

"And then the foals," Uvy said quietly.

Spike blinked, coming back into himself and the chamber with them. He turned his head slowly to gazed at them and smiled. "Yes. Then the foals. We had our first in about a year. We didn't know much about it and weren't really sure it could even happen, till it did. We pretty much had to learn it all as we went along. But word gets around when you have an unusual marriage, and you tend to become aware of others. There actually are quite a few pony-dragon couples, especially on the borderlands, and we got to meet some of them over the years. The interesting thing to me is how the children favour the mother. If she's a pony, they tend to be more like ponies too, with some dragon characteristics. If she's a dragon, they hatch from eggs as little dragonets but with pony hints. Meeting those couples and hearing what they had to say certainly helped over the years."

"With all your wives," Uvy said with a provocative half-grin.

"There are so many mares in Equestria, and so few stallions." Spike chuckled, and preened himself. "Even fewer dragons."

"Rainbow Dash?" Dusty said.

Spike said, "We were never really married in the strict sense. She's never been the marrying type." He took a deep breath and stared up as though the sky were right above them rather than a half a mile of rock. "But I was a flier, and as a dragon, a fairly powerful one. There were things I could do for Celestia that no other Equestrian really could. Same with Dash, one of the best equine fliers ever born. We were partnered. We had a lot of important things to do and we were together a lot. Winding up together was natural. There was my life with Rarity, and my life with Dash. We were really all one family." He grinned at Dusty. "And now those two mares live together as one in the person of your little friend here," he said, flicking a finger at Uvarovite, "with a dragon as the bridge between them. Well, and a few other ponies, of course."

"Twilight, too," she said, looking at Uvy. She turned her gaze back up to Spike's sharp, chiseled features. "You said Twilight was sad when she saw you... did you ever find out why? Was it because... she wasn't the one to give you your wings? The first?"

"I'm not sure. I think maybe partly it was that. I think she cared enough that she would have. Mostly, though, I think it was that things had changed. I was different. I was leaving what I was... what she and I were... behind."

"That is a little sad," Uvy said.

"In a way," Spike said, and he sighed. "But life moves on. Twilight and I moved on, too. The nature of our relationship changed. I was always her assistant, right up to the third time she was going to have to enlarge the doors to let me into the library. At that point, I finally admitted it was time to be realistic and I resigned from being her day-to-day assistant. But we always loved one another. As I matured, what we were to each other matured too. Before I resigned, I spent a year with her in Canterlot on a special research project the Princess commissioned for a defence effort. There were some late nights." He smiled warmly. "We had a son together. Timber Moonrise. He's a doctor in Canterlot. His practice is half medical, half magical."

"Wait, is that Uncle Timmy?" Dusty said.

"Yes, that's him," Uvy nodded. "We stopped to see him on the way," he told Spike. "Dusty's been having travel sickness. Not used to the wings, I guess."

"I didn't know he was Twilight Sparkle's son. I thought, being a unicorn, he was your and Rarity's grandson or something." She smiled sheepishly. "You were popular with the mares," she observed.

Spike smiled broadly and winked. "They've been popular with me, too. I made a lot of friends living in Ponyville."

"Yeah, you made my grandfather, you made my grandmother, Timmy, aunts, uncles..." Uvy joked.

"Milk-suckers," Dusty said, remembering what the dragons had called them.

Spike shook his head. "I'll never understand how they could mock the holiest thing I'll ever witness with my own eyes... whenever one of my foals first took to its mother's breast."

Dusty took a deep breath. "And that reminds me," she said. "Uncle Timmy gave me some news."

Uvy dipped an ear and cocked an eyebrow at her. She went on, "I was going to wait till we got home, but... now I want to tell you here, in front of Spike. After all," she said, dipping her head coyly, "he deserves to know that this family he started is about to get a little bigger."

Uvy's ears pricked and his face lit up. "Oh, Dusty! You mean..."

"Yes, honey," she smiled, touching his face. "You'll be a daddy this fall." They embraced.

"Those pretty eyes," Spike said, softly. "To see them once more, set in another face..."

Dusty hurried over to Spike and nuzzled him. The long neck craned down to reciprocate.

"Can you visit us when it's time for me to foal?" she asked.

"I promise," he told her. He looked up and winked at Uvarovite. "Nice work, stud," he teased.

"Oh, it was a pleasure," Uvy joked.

Dusty tossed him a smirk over her shoulder and glanced at the goblets. She trotted back beside Uvarovite. "I suppose I should really watch it from here on in, but I'd like a toast, now that you both know." And so they poured one more drink and raised their various vessels. She looked at them both and said, "To the dragon blood I love, and carry within me."

They drank.

"Well, I suppose it's time for me to ask," Uvy said, softly.

"Ask," she said.

"Dusty Amber, will you marry me?"

"Yes, my dragon-winged stallion. I will." Spike smiled in silence as they kissed.

There were more words, a few ribald jokes, and treats for three now eating for four, but it was clear that the ponies, especially Dusty, were weary after the long trip. Spike said, "I'm getting tired of the two of you showing me your tonsils. Why don't you wander down that tunnel and find yourself a comfortable room? I imagine you could both use some rest, and there's a lot for you to talk about."

"I'm not tired," Dusty protested, but the yawn at the end made a polite liar of her.

"Go on," Spike said. "There's plenty of time for us to get caught up and do things later."

They nodded, and Uvy nudged Dusty to her feet and towards the tunnel.

"Oh, and by the way, cave walls are excellent sound barriers. So don't worry about disturbing me if anything... or anypony... goes bump in the night," Spike said, tossing them a wink.

Dusty blushed. "Now I see where you get it from," she smiled at Uvy.

"Good night, Spike!"

"Good night, my little ponies." He watched them saunter away together down the tunnel till its luxurious darkness dissolved sight of them.

"They truly are a beautiful couple," the voice said, rising from the silence.

"Yes, they are," Spike replied, turning to the voice even before Rarity's translucent form emerged from invisibility. When she did, she looked as young and radiant as she had when he had first set eyes on her.

"I couldn't be happier," she said, crossing the floor to her husband, the sound of her hooves at once familiar and otherworldly.

He stroked his claws along her back. "I kept waiting for you to announce yourself," he said.

"And I kept waiting to be announced!" she huffed. "What kind of lady do you think just barges into a social setting without invitation or a proper introduction?" She stared sternly at him until they both chuckled.

"Tomorrow?" he said.

"Yes," she agreed. "Find some moment to mention it to them. I don't want it to be a shock. Especially not to an expectant mother, and one bearing my great-great-grandchild at that."

"That's generous of you. True to form."

"Generosity, nothing. Give me a grand entrance! I want to be received, not yelped at," she said, laughing.

His claws curled under her chin. "No one ever would," he told her, softly, his eyes the mirror of her loveliness, inside and out.

"They've put you in a romantic mood," she murmured, nuzzling his hand.

"No. You have."

"Then what are we doing out here?" she said. "Come, Spike..." And as she had all those years before, she trotted off, glancing over her shoulder as she led him. And as he had all those years before, he followed.

The bed was a field of gemstones now, and he laid back into its comfortable crunch. The lively ghost of his first and deepest love, the wife named Rarity, climbed her small mountain of a dragon, settling on his chest. His hands moved over her smooth and faintly glowing form. She nuzzled his mouth softly. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"Oh, yes..."

Eyes closing, they kissed. She raised her head and smiled down at him. Those pretty eyes, still set in that beloved face that not even death could take away. "Rarity," he breathed, and leaning in, she pressed her soul into his. He gasped, shuddering. Where once their love had had to be translated across the medium of flesh, it was now direct. The borders of their souls blurred, mingling, and she braided her being into his. Her form glowed intensely as it sank into him, till at last they swam together within a sea that was made of each other, redolent of oats and strawberries.

And now it was Spike who had reason to be grateful for thick cave walls.

Description
The next day was a grey day for Spike, despite its being a clear, sunny one. Their early and unexpected return caused Pinkie Pie to quickly bump up her planned "Welcome Home" party, but Twilight managed to put a bug in her ear that Spike was not really in the mood for a celebration. Pinkie suggested a change of theme to a "Friends Are Your Wings" party, but Applejack managed to persuade her that that might be an even worse idea, under the circumstances. Reluctantly, Pinkie Pie agreed to abandon a party for Spike and Twilight of any sort, for the time being.

All Spike had to take his mind off his troubles was to pester Twilight to keep him busy. She quickly ran out of important things to take care of and simply ran down the list in her head of chores she'd always meant to get around to until at last they were trivialities almost beyond mention. Once they would have been beneath Spike and he would have resented them, but now they were like oxygen, and she seemed to understand that. "I could use some more ink... oak leaves for a book-binding spell... find out from the pegasi if there'll be good seeing tonight..." He did it all.

His friends watched, pensively, over the days that followed for the return of the jovial, sardonic young friend who had journeyed to Canterlot so full of hope, but as they stretched into weeks without any sign of his return, they began to despair of ever seeing him again. Increasingly, he was unpleasant company, sullen and bitter, impatient, and prone to spending time by himself. And they missed him, even though he was still there.

Through it all, Spike had managed to keep his feelings pointed inward. But more and more, that was hard to do. Every so often one of his friends would make a suggestion, and though he knew they were only trying to be helpful, he was finding it harder and harder to keep his temper and simply thank them and ignore their useless suggestions.

And he began to wonder if maybe the time hadn't come for him to leave.

Rainbow Dash, of course, was the one whose patience ran out first, and when it did, she granted herself license to be plain with Spike. She found him, one afternoon, on some pointless little mission, and flew down to buck him out of his funk with her homespun wisdom.

"Heya, short, purple, and grumpy!"

"Oh... heya, Dash."

"You're such a nut. The answer to your problem is right in front you!"

"Oh, it is, huh?" He didn't look at her. He just plodded along the path, hoping she'd sense his mood and go away.

She kept pace with him in the air over his shoulder. "Spike, what's wrong with you? You live with one of the most talented magicians in Equestria! There's nothing Twilight can't do! Getting your wings should be a snap for her if she just sits down and uses her egghead powers."

Spike fumed, embarrassed for himself and defensive of Twilight. "It's not like that. Really. There isn't anything Twilight can do about it. It's... it's like cutie marks. She couldn't—"

"Oh, it's not like cutie marks," Rainbow Dash snorted. "That's about who you are! Wings are just a part of your body like arms or tails or hooves! ...Well, toes. Twilight made wings for Rarity, didn't she?"

"Yeah, and look how that turned out."

She darted right in front of him, cutting him off. Her cheerfulness was infectious... almost. She babbled, "Yeah, but Rarity wasn't born to have wings. You were!" she reminded him, poking his chest. "So think how much better it should turn out! Come on. Let's march up to Twilight and tell her, 'Sister, your priority is to crack those books and get Spike—'"

"Rainbow Dash, get off my back!!"

She looked at him in shock.

She deserved it. She was interfering and she wouldn't take the hint. That should have been it. But there was so much more, and now that the dam was burst, it all came out. Straight at her.

"You don't know what I'm going through. You don't know what you're talking about. You're not a dragon, you're a pony. So stop telling me what to do, because you don't know."

She opened her mouth and took a breath, but she didn't say anything.

He did. "It's typical. The whole bunch of you. You think you know everything. Act like you have all the answers," he told her, twirling his hand in the air. "But when it really counts, nothing. Zip. Empty." He snapped his fingers. "The dragons told me more in five minutes than you all learned about us in a thousand years." His eyes narrowed to slits and he could taste acid in his throat. He said, "They laugh at you, you know. At how ignorant you all are. You know what they think of you? A bunch of milk-suckers. That's it. That's how much you impress dragons."

That was it. It was said and couldn't be unsaid. Though outwardly he stood his ground, inwardly he was cringing. There was a hurt, furious rage in her eyes, and for a moment, he was sure she'd attack him. Somehow it was worse when she didn't. "Fine," she said. "Fine. I only wanted to help. But I guess you're right. How could a milk-sucker ever help a great dragon." And she left him, climbing into the sky.

He chased after her, calling. "Rainbow Dash, please! I didn't mean it! Rainbow Dash, come back! I'm sorry! Rainbow Dash!" But she was a speck. "It's just..." He sighed, and sank to his knees, unbelievably even more alone now than he had been before.

"I have to go," he whimpered softly. A breeze curled around his shoulders and seemed to nod sadly against his cheek.

Quietly, over the next day or two, he began choosing the things to take with him. He didn't move a thing, just mentally earmarked it. But everything he looked at was full of memories. Everything had its own cord of memory that tied him to Equestria, Canterlot, Ponyville. There was a warm, joyful splash of Twilight in everything he owned, and now there were others, too. Gifts from Applejack, Pinkie, Fluttershy, Cheerilee. Hoof-made cards from the Cutie Mark Conquerors back when they were still "crusading". And he began to see there was nothing he could take with him. Not if he really meant to go. Any one of these things would curve his path and bring him, finally, back again. If he went, it would have be with nothing more than he brought coming out of the shell... himself alone.

But that was too stark to imagine. Could he really do that? Rather than dwell on that aspect of it, for the moment, he continued losing himself in the little chores he bothered Twilight for. He was standing at the edge of town on just such a pointless errand, gazing across the plain at distant mountains, when he heard his name spoken softly behind him. Beautifully. Of course... it was spoken by Rarity.

His spirits brightened, just a little, and he turned to her, putting on a false face for her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," she said. "I... I know you've been busy lately, but we did promise each other that lunch before your trip, and this just looked like a good time to approach you and proffer an invitation."

"You're right," he said. "I guess I've been so busy. When would be good for you?"

"I thought today, in fact. I've prepared a nice repast that I hope will delight."

"Okay... great! Let me go and see if Twilight is free, and we'll—"

Rarity reached out a hoof to stop him. "Well, actually... darling... I adore Twilight and enjoy her company immensely. You know that. But... I was thinking of a casual little tête-à-tête... just you and me."

Spike stared. "Oh. Uh..."

"Well, unless, of course, you'd be more comfortable with Twilight there."

It had nothing to do with Twilight, and everything to do with how he was feeling. Just about the last thing in the world Spike wanted to do right now, feeling as he did, was endure a bright, friendly luncheon conversation with Rarity, or anyone else. The only thing he wanted less was to disappoint her. So he decided it in an instant. "No, I'd love that," he said. "Let's go."

She made chitchat about this and that she was working on as she led him along to the Carousel Boutique. The sign on the shop was already turned to say 'closed for business', and she left it that way as she ushered him into the cool, shaded space inside. Off to the side of her workspace was the cozy little sitting room she sometimes used for dining when it was just her and someone else, as it was today. She smiled. "You know, ordinarily, I'd hire someone to serve, but I didn't want you feeling all formal," she said. "Just a pleasant little get-together between good friends, hmm? Get comfortable and I'll be right back with the soup du jour."

Spike nodded and eased himself into the chair obviously placed for him at the small, round, marble-top table in the centre of the room. He looked around at the ornate details of the room, the carved oak, the silvered inlays, the careful chisel work that had gone into the fireplace. Everything spoke of care and attention to detail. Of getting it right.

She trotted back in with two bowls of soup accompanying her in the air. "Lunch is served," she said, and set before him a strange, pale blue concoction he had never seen for. "Oh, I hope you like it," she said. "It's a pearl bisque, with just a hint of sapphire."

Spike was astounded. "It's a soup made of gems?"

"Exactly. I made it just for you, obviously." She set a rather more conventional bowl of a vegetable puree before herself and sat down. "Oh, please, give it a try. I've been dying to hear what you think."

He raised the spoon to his mouth and it was unlike anything he'd ever tasted before. How had she managed it? "Rarity, it really is terrific," he told her.

"Oh, I'm so relieved," she said. "I haven't been able to taste it myself, of course. Making it was like wandering the forest with a blindfold and hoping one is on the right road."

"Did you invent this?"

"Well, no," she admitted. "I went to Sugar Cube Corner, asking after something special. And do you know, Cup Cake found a very, very old recipe for just that? There must have been a dragon pass through Ponyville sometime before! Or maybe it's even older than that, I don't know. But I do know it requires some magic to make it. Culinary magic. It wasn't easy... I surprised myself. I didn't know I had it in me," she said, blushing at bit at her own immodesty. "But I wanted something special. For you."

He didn't want to eat it. He wanted to wear it. "I don't know what to say."

"If you enjoy it, that's enough," she told him. Her horn glowed and she tipped her spoon into her own soup at the edge of the bowl, and let him eat for a few minutes without troubling him to converse. When the soup was done, she announced the main course, and returned with it. This time, they were having the same thing, which was asparagus tips and slivered potatoes and carrots in a subtle cream garlic braise. Conversation was sparse and mostly about the process of preparation. Dessert was duly served; a delicate oat pastry topped with strawberry preserves for her, and gemstones drizzled with chocolate syrup and sprinkled with icing sugar for him. He looked at the exquisitely-arranged plate and again felt the urge not to eat, but preserve what he saw forever. A ruby, an emerald, a sapphire, an opal, and a diamond. They quietly radiated the obvious care with which they'd been pain-stakingly selected. They were flawless, aged, and to him, mouth-watering. He savoured them, but as he did so his eyes were on her.

"And, so," she said, finally, hesitantly. "This little trip of yours... how did that go?"

He looked down at his empty plate and skated his claw around in the syrup. "Didn't Twilight say?"

"Well... we might have exchanged a word or two. Just in passing. I was hoping you might be able to fill me in on the things she couldn't."

He moved his mouth around, trying to think of what to say. He didn't want to just pass it off as nothing. She was asking, and it was clearly not easy for her to pry. She deserved an answer. Finally he managed to say, "It didn't go all that well."

"No, I... I didn't think it had. It's no secret that you've been unhappy since you got back. I was hoping..."

Hoping? Hoping what? he wondered. "Thank you," he said, smiling wanly. "I appreciate it. But I don't think there's anything you can do." He sighed and looked away. "I don't think there's anything anypony can."

"Spike, please. I can't stand seeing you like this. Can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can."

"What could be so bad you can't share it with the ones who love you?"

She drew closer and sat alongside him. Spike closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "It's about my wings."

"I was sure it was."

"I should have wings, Rarity, but I don't. I should be bigger by now. That's what we went to Canterlot to research."

"Yes... Twilight said. She told us that there was very little of help to be found there."

He peered at her from the corners of his eyes. "Did she tell you we found a spell that would let me go ask those dragons I was hanging around with?"

"Yes! Those awful brutes! What help could they possibly be to anyone?"

"Plenty, actually. That I'll never get my wings. That I'll always be... a 'fledgling'."

Rarity said nothing with her voice. Her eyes said more than words could.

His voice shook. "I don't think I can stay here."

"Spike, don't say that... please."

"I don't want to go. But I can't be what I'm supposed to be here. But if I leave, who will I become?" His eyes glistened like a pond dappled by rain. He said, "I'm trapped, Rarity. I can only be who I'm supposed to be here. But I can only become what I'm supposed to be out there. With them."

She reached up to him, touching his face. "Spike, we all know the things you've just told me already. But I know you and I know there's more you're not saying. I can see it your eyes every time you look at me. I want you to tell me exactly what they said to you."

"I can't, it's too—"

"Spike! Now."

"I thought maybe getting your wings was like getting your cutie mark. And in a way it is, but it isn't. Getting your cutie mark is about discovering who you are. For a dragon, getting your wings is about someone else discovering who you are."

Her brow furrowed. "I don't think I understand that, exactly."

"Rarity, please. Just accept that it means I have to be with other dragons."

There was silence. He thought it was over. Until she said, "I'll go with you."

"What?"

"I said... I said, I'll go with you. To that place. To them. You can't go alone. I'll stay with you a while. Till you're settled. Till I'm sure you'll be okay. Till I'm sure you don't need—" She turned away. "—us. Me. Anymore."

"You would do that?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely."

"But wouldn't you be scared?"

"Terrified is the word, I think. But I can't face the idea of you going alone."

Spike was overcome. "I don't know what to say. But... I couldn't take you with me. Because of the reason I have to go."

"You're still keeping something from me."

"To get my wings, Rarity... I have to find a girl."

She drew a sudden breath. Held it. Freed it in a long sigh. "I think I understand now."

He nodded.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Someone else. Someone else who discovers you. Celebrates you in their heart."

"I think that's about right," he said. "It sounds nice that way."

"Spike... this girl you have to find... did they say she has to be a dragon?"

He looked at her. "Well, no... I don't think so. They didn't say that exactly. But who else... I mean..."

She gazed out the window into the warm summer day. At the butterflies courting, at the trees slowly dancing in the breeze. She said, "I've known you a long time now. And I've known how you've felt about me almost as long. At first it was flattering. Being noticed by a boy, his first crush, especially one so different. I used to think it was... well... a little bit funny. I thought you'd grow out of it."

She turned to look at him. "But you didn't. You kept finding new ways to make me feel special. And I guess I came to expect it. Count on it, even. I took advantage of it. I even used to find ways to test your patience... see if it was real. Oh yes, yes I did. And I'm sorry. But every time I did, you just came back stronger. And I started to realize I had feelings for you too."

She turned away again. "But we were so different. And you seemed so young. But I guess if you were a pony, you'd be a young stallion by now. You certainly act like one. Brave. Caring. Devoted... yes, that particularly. You put everyone else first. Especially me. And I'd find myself at odd little moments wondering what you'd think of something... a pattern, a song, the view across a valley. Or if you might disapprove of something it struck me to do. What I mean is... you began to matter. Sometimes I thought of you in other ways, too. More mature ways. But right away I'd tell myself that was silly, and shoo those thoughts away, till the next time. But now... now there's this. This... calling. Because I think that's what it is. And those thoughts and feelings begin to make sense to me now. Maybe something, somewhere, has been telling me what I needed to do all along... but I just wouldn't listen."

Spike was very quiet, and he could not even dare to look at her. So she reached out and turned his face to hers. "What I'm saying is, Spike... my darling... if this girl of yours doesn't have to be a dragon, and... if you really do feel about me the way I think you do... I'd be honoured to help you make your wings."

He didn't speak. Just searched her eyes. She smiled into his. Pressing her cheek to his, she whispered to him. "Do you think you'd like that?"

She felt him nod, softly.

"There's no hurry," she told him. "But... if you think you're ready... we might see to it now."

He spoke so softly she barely heard him. "Please."

She rose slowly and took a step. "Come with me," she said. With her eyes on him, she moved with slow grace towards her bedroom stairs.

Spike stepped off the chair and, steadying himself, he followed her. She waited for him at the foot of the stairs. With a flick of her eyes she let him know it was alright, so he reached out, placing his hand on her flank, and like that, she led him to her room.

He had seen her bedroom before. Glimpsed it, really. Never like this. Her horn glowed, lowering the shades most of the way, and bright afternoon became like golden evening. Behind them, her bedroom door swung gently shut. He watched as she crawled onto her bed and gazed warmly at him.

He felt as though his feet were bolted to the floor, and was almost amazed to feel them lift, and slowly cross the space to her bed. He set his knee on it, and climbed onto it.

"You're trembling," she said. She couldn't help but give a soft laugh. "Oh, darling, that's perfectly adorable." She put a hoof on his chest to steady him.

"I feel like my heart's going to burst," he said, his voice shaking.

"No one can hurt you here, my love. And we have all the time in the world."

My love. She called me 'my love'. His soul soared. At last he dared, and he brought his face close to hers. She met his mouth with her own.

She tasted like oats and strawberries, and he knew that mingled flavor would be sacred to him for the rest of his life.

For her, his tongue was a smooth notched ribbon, like something she would choose at the start of a project, driven by an exciting urge to create something glorious.

They took their time, lying together caressing, murmuring sweetly to one another as the curtains billowed beside the windows, stirring the air in the room. Increasingly it was filled with a new scent of hers, something enticing and hungry, and he felt himself emerging from concealment. At some point something unspoken passed between them, and she turned belly down in presentation. He drew himself up behind her, placing his hands on her flanks. With a graceful arch of her neck and a paddock whinny she shook her mane. Leaning in, he joined himself to her.

To him, the sensation was like diving into lava again... only much, much better. Hearing his name forged in her throat to be born shivering from her mouth was the sweetest thing in the world.

To her, the sensation of his intimate touch was smooth and cool, quickly warming to her own body temperature. The passion woven into his tremulous moans above and behind her was more valuable than any gem she had ever known.

And so they moved together, lovingly, first tenderly and then urgently, until at last came the moment. Even through tightly clenched eyes, Rarity saw the light that suddenly filled her room, and opening them, she looked over her shoulder and watched the miracle. Arching and writhing, bathed in golden light and gossamer sparkles, Spike seemed to grow before her eyes... his tail, lashing like a sword behind them... his limbs, thicker and drawn-out... his head longer, flatter, lifted up on a slender neck from shoulders broader and stronger... and then, a pulse, a burst of blinding light, from which emerged, sleek and spread above them, the mark of their triumph... his wings. They touched the ceiling, and then folded down to cover them both like a blanket... a blanket they had made together.

His eyes were shut; he was lost in the throes of their union. He barely heard her calling his name. He opened his eyes and gazed down at her, puzzled, for a moment, about how her face had gotten so far away...

"Spike," she cried. "Spike, darling, look! Look at yourself!" Drawing a hoof from beneath her body, she directed his gaze to her mirror, and he beheld himself: tall, slender, powerful. Easily as large as her, maybe more.

"Is that... is that me?"

"It certainly is... Oh, Spike... look how handsome you are. Oh, love, I'm so proud of you..."

He turned his shoulders and gazed at himself in wonder. And then he flexed, and spread his wings, more than twice the span of his now longer arms. "My wings," he gasped, running a claw slowly along the crest. "Rarity... I have my wings..."

"I'm so happy for you," she said. For a long moment, he stared at himself, lost in what he saw, scarcely able to believe it. Finally she softly said, "...You'll want to go try them out now, I imagine. Take your place in the sky..."

Her question broke him away from self-admiration, and he looked down at her. He said, "Not now." His larger, powerful hands wandered over her body, and with his new, longer neck, he brought his head down to her shoulder. They kissed.

The single shadow they cast grew longer as the sun went down, until at last it slipped below the horizon, leaving them together in the darkness. It was broken by the glow of Rarity's magic as she raised the matchstick to Spike's lips, and he brought it to life with a tongue of green flame. He watched as the match made its way around the room, lighting the candles that would burn all night. A night of wonders, that seemed like many nights all stitched together into a cloak of adventures for him by Rarity. The night was long and balmy and full of love, and they explored one another, body and soul. At last a deep and restful sleep took them, and the candles flickered out.

When she opened her eyes again the light in the room told her it was already mid-morning. She looked over where he'd been lying and saw only the new, leather-bound wings. He was sitting on the edge of her bed. She could see his face in the mirror, sad and anxious. "Spike?" she said. "Darling, what's wrong? Whatever could be wrong?"

He said nothing for a moment, then turned his head to look at her. "I don't want it to be... just this," he told her, spreading his wings a fraction, just enough so she knew what he meant.

She reached out a hoof, touching him. "Oh, Spike," she said, "it doesn't have to be."

The fear left his face, and his eyes brimmed with tears. She kissed them away.

They brunched together, laughing easily, their long pent-up feelings for one another unbound and flowing free. At last she brought him to door. "Are you ready to show Ponyville the new Spike?" she said.

He rubbed his wrist with his hand. "I don't know," he said. "Do you think they're ready?"

"Their readiness be damned," she said. "Let's dazzle them."

He smiled, and she opened the door. Rarity stepped into the light, followed by Spike.

Pinkie Pie happened to be outside. "Heya, Rarity! Heya... Spike?" She stopped, gaping at him.

The large purple dragon with Spike's voice said sheepishly, "Heya, Pinkie. Uh... seen Twilight lately?"

"Spike?" she repeated.

Rarity rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yes, sweetie, this is Spike."

"What happened to you?" Pinkie gasped.

Spike cleared his throat and gave a little half-smile. "Rarity happened to me."

"Huh?" Pinkie considered it for a moment and seemed to come to a conclusion. "Ohhhhhh," she said. Then she smiled. "I knew it!" she yapped, hopping into the air. "I knew you two would get together! I just didn't think you'd be so big."

"So, uh, seen Twilight?" Spike repeated.

"Not today, but wait right here! I'll go get her!" Pinkie dashed off before they could stop her.

"I guess we wait here," Rarity said, and they sat down together outside the Carousel Boutique.

There was a distant cry of "Whoa!" and suddenly Rainbow Dash appeared in their midst. "Spike? Spike?!" she sputtered.

Spike smiled, and threw his wings wide. Rainbow Dash stumbled back, then exploded into the air with glee. "You got your wings! How'd you do that?"

He looked at Rarity. She said, "We worked on them all night together." Spike chuckled.

Rainbow Dash gave them a confused smile. "Huh?" she said. She shook her head. "Ah, never mind. You tried those things out yet?"

"Not yet," he told her. "Still a groundling."

"Well, get up here!" Rainbow Dash urged, pawing at the air. "What are you waiting for?"

"Go on," Rarity said, nuzzling him. "It's what you wanted."

He looked around him and cleared his throat. "First one who laughs gets a hairdo flambé," he joked. He fixed his gaze on the blue mare who was so hurt the last time he'd seen her. "Dashie... I'm sorry for what I—"

"Hey, shut up," she told him, smiling. "Enough with the yappin', make with the flappin'."

He was grateful for her forgiveness. He yearned to hug her. But then she would hit him. Instead, Spike got to his feet, steeled himself, and spread his wings. Then he gave a powerful downward flap, and lifted himself two feet off the ground. He settled back down, toes in the dirt, and shuddered. "Wow," he breathed. "They really work!"

"And how!" said Rainbow Dash. "Do it again! And this time, keep flapping! That's the trick, by the way" she teased.

Spike took to the air beside her, shakily, bobbing awkwardly, but keeping aloft. "That's it!" Rainbow Dash said. "Hey, everyone! Come over here and look at Spike!" she called. But even without her announcement, other ponies had begun to notice and gather around. They were full of questions and wonder.

"There he is! Look! There he is! See? Like I told you!" It was Pinkie Pie, back with Twilight. Spike looked up. Twilight stopped, some distance away, her mouth gaping.

"Spike...?"

He smiled and waved.

But there was a hint of sadness in her eyes when he searched her features, and his heart broke, just a little. He knew somehow that he had hurt her. It couldn't be helped, but he wished it away, all the same. He flew over to her, his awkwardness forgotten, and landed before her.

Twilight's eyes flashed back and forth between Spike and Rarity, and Spike's wings. Slowly, a smile, bittersweet, formed on her snout, and she nodded, understanding. "Congratulations, Spike," she told him, sincerely. "I'm glad you found your way."

He didn't say anything. He just came forward and held her. And she held him too.

In a field near Cloudsdale, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy cheered Spike on as he darted between obstacles, blasted through clouds, and set rings on fire before passing through them. Dashie blew her whistle and waved him on, faster, higher, stronger. Below a crowd of his friends were gathered, watching, and Rarity beamed, her eyes never leaving him.

Dear Princess Celestia,

I learned what might be the greatest lesson of my life this week. For a long time I've been worried I would have to choose between who I am, and what I am. I didn't think any of my friends could understand or help me, and that I was going through it alone. But I know now that's not true, and it never was true. They do understand me, and accept me, and what I am isn't a problem anymore. One pony in particular has brought these two discordant parts of my nature into harmony: Rarity, who is after all the element of generosity. In fact, she understands and accepts me so much, that I hope you will be free sometime in the spring... because we would like to humbly beseech you to officiate at our wedding.

Yours truly,

Spike.

"And that was it," Spike said. "That was how it really began..." Physically, he was in the cave with them, but he was miles away.

Dusty was gazing up at Spike, who had opened up his heart to her. She could hardly believe that a few hours earlier the very sight of him had startled her. Now he was beautiful and she felt only affection.

"And then the foals," Uvy said quietly.

Spike blinked, coming back into himself and the chamber with them. He turned his head slowly to gazed at them and smiled. "Yes. Then the foals. We had our first in about a year. We didn't know much about it and weren't really sure it could even happen, till it did. We pretty much had to learn it all as we went along. But word gets around when you have an unusual marriage, and you tend to become aware of others. There actually are quite a few pony-dragon couples, especially on the borderlands, and we got to meet some of them over the years. The interesting thing to me is how the children favour the mother. If she's a pony, they tend to be more like ponies too, with some dragon characteristics. If she's a dragon, they hatch from eggs as little dragonets but with pony hints. Meeting those couples and hearing what they had to say certainly helped over the years."

"With all your wives," Uvy said with a provocative half-grin.

"There are so many mares in Equestria, and so few stallions." Spike chuckled, and preened himself. "Even fewer dragons."

"Rainbow Dash?" Dusty said.

Spike said, "We were never really married in the strict sense. She's never been the marrying type." He took a deep breath and stared up as though the sky were right above them rather than a half a mile of rock. "But I was a flier, and as a dragon, a fairly powerful one. There were things I could do for Celestia that no other Equestrian really could. Same with Dash, one of the best equine fliers ever born. We were partnered. We had a lot of important things to do and we were together a lot. Winding up together was natural. There was my life with Rarity, and my life with Dash. We were really all one family." He grinned at Dusty. "And now those two mares live together as one in the person of your little friend here," he said, flicking a finger at Uvarovite, "with a dragon as the bridge between them. Well, and a few other ponies, of course."

"Twilight, too," she said, looking at Uvy. She turned her gaze back up to Spike's sharp, chiseled features. "You said Twilight was sad when she saw you... did you ever find out why? Was it because... she wasn't the one to give you your wings? The first?"

"I'm not sure. I think maybe partly it was that. I think she cared enough that she would have. Mostly, though, I think it was that things had changed. I was different. I was leaving what I was... what she and I were... behind."

"That is a little sad," Uvy said.

"In a way," Spike said, and he sighed. "But life moves on. Twilight and I moved on, too. The nature of our relationship changed. I was always her assistant, right up to the third time she was going to have to enlarge the doors to let me into the library. At that point, I finally admitted it was time to be realistic and I resigned from being her day-to-day assistant. But we always loved one another. As I matured, what we were to each other matured too. Before I resigned, I spent a year with her in Canterlot on a special research project the Princess commissioned for a defence effort. There were some late nights." He smiled warmly. "We had a son together. Timber Moonrise. He's a doctor in Canterlot. His practice is half medical, half magical."

"Wait, is that Uncle Timmy?" Dusty said.

"Yes, that's him," Uvy nodded. "We stopped to see him on the way," he told Spike. "Dusty's been having travel sickness. Not used to the wings, I guess."

"I didn't know he was Twilight Sparkle's son. I thought, being a unicorn, he was your and Rarity's grandson or something." She smiled sheepishly. "You were popular with the mares," she observed.

Spike smiled broadly and winked. "They've been popular with me, too. I made a lot of friends living in Ponyville."

"Yeah, you made my grandfather, you made my grandmother, Timmy, aunts, uncles..." Uvy joked.

"Milk-suckers," Dusty said, remembering what the dragons had called them.

Spike shook his head. "I'll never understand how they could mock the holiest thing I'll ever witness with my own eyes... whenever one of my foals first took to its mother's breast."

Dusty took a deep breath. "And that reminds me," she said. "Uncle Timmy gave me some news."

Uvy dipped an ear and cocked an eyebrow at her. She went on, "I was going to wait till we got home, but... now I want to tell you here, in front of Spike. After all," she said, dipping her head coyly, "he deserves to know that this family he started is about to get a little bigger."

Uvy's ears pricked and his face lit up. "Oh, Dusty! You mean..."

"Yes, honey," she smiled, touching his face. "You'll be a daddy this fall." They embraced.

"Those pretty eyes," Spike said, softly. "To see them once more, set in another face..."

Dusty hurried over to Spike and nuzzled him. The long neck craned down to reciprocate.

"Can you visit us when it's time for me to foal?" she asked.

"I promise," he told her. He looked up and winked at Uvarovite. "Nice work, stud," he teased.

"Oh, it was a pleasure," Uvy joked.

Dusty tossed him a smirk over her shoulder and glanced at the goblets. She trotted back beside Uvarovite. "I suppose I should really watch it from here on in, but I'd like a toast, now that you both know." And so they poured one more drink and raised their various vessels. She looked at them both and said, "To the dragon blood I love, and carry within me."

They drank.

"Well, I suppose it's time for me to ask," Uvy said, softly.

"Ask," she said.

"Dusty Amber, will you marry me?"

"Yes, my dragon-winged stallion. I will." Spike smiled in silence as they kissed.

There were more words, a few ribald jokes, and treats for three now eating for four, but it was clear that the ponies, especially Dusty, were weary after the long trip. Spike said, "I'm getting tired of the two of you showing me your tonsils. Why don't you wander down that tunnel and find yourself a comfortable room? I imagine you could both use some rest, and there's a lot for you to talk about."

"I'm not tired," Dusty protested, but the yawn at the end made a polite liar of her.

"Go on," Spike said. "There's plenty of time for us to get caught up and do things later."

They nodded, and Uvy nudged Dusty to her feet and towards the tunnel.

"Oh, and by the way, cave walls are excellent sound barriers. So don't worry about disturbing me if anything... or anypony... goes bump in the night," Spike said, tossing them a wink.

Dusty blushed. "Now I see where you get it from," she smiled at Uvy.

"Good night, Spike!"

"Good night, my little ponies." He watched them saunter away together down the tunnel till its luxurious darkness dissolved sight of them.

"They truly are a beautiful couple," the voice said, rising from the silence.

"Yes, they are," Spike replied, turning to the voice even before Rarity's translucent form emerged from invisibility. When she did, she looked as young and radiant as she had when he had first set eyes on her.

"I couldn't be happier," she said, crossing the floor to her husband, the sound of her hooves at once familiar and otherworldly.

He stroked his claws along her back. "I kept waiting for you to announce yourself," he said.

"And I kept waiting to be announced!" she huffed. "What kind of lady do you think just barges into a social setting without invitation or a proper introduction?" She stared sternly at him until they both chuckled.

"Tomorrow?" he said.

"Yes," she agreed. "Find some moment to mention it to them. I don't want it to be a shock. Especially not to an expectant mother, and one bearing my great-great-grandchild at that."

"That's generous of you. True to form."

"Generosity, nothing. Give me a grand entrance! I want to be received, not yelped at," she said, laughing.

His claws curled under her chin. "No one ever would," he told her, softly, his eyes the mirror of her loveliness, inside and out.

"They've put you in a romantic mood," she murmured, nuzzling his hand.

"No. You have."

"Then what are we doing out here?" she said. "Come, Spike..." And as she had all those years before, she trotted off, glancing over her shoulder as she led him. And as he had all those years before, he followed.

The bed was a field of gemstones now, and he laid back into its comfortable crunch. The lively ghost of his first and deepest love, the wife named Rarity, climbed her small mountain of a dragon, settling on his chest. His hands moved over her smooth and faintly glowing form. She nuzzled his mouth softly. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"Oh, yes..."

Eyes closing, they kissed. She raised her head and smiled down at him. Those pretty eyes, still set in that beloved face that not even death could take away. "Rarity," he breathed, and leaning in, she pressed her soul into his. He gasped, shuddering. Where once their love had had to be translated across the medium of flesh, it was now direct. The borders of their souls blurred, mingling, and she braided her being into his. Her form glowed intensely as it sank into him, till at last they swam together within a sea that was made of each other, redolent of oats and strawberries.

And now it was Spike who had reason to be grateful for thick cave walls.