Chapter Four

An Evolving Journey and Destination

The rolling of the waves along a gradual ocean shoreline is a comforting noise, especially when one is tired. It can extend the time one sleeps, as it not only is a comforting noise, but the slight vibrations it imparts on the shores can be downright heavenly to a sore, aching body. It was to the sound of these rolling waves that Celestia awoke, stretching her body as she did so. As the princess continued to become more alert to her surroundings, her mind quickly noted several things at once.

One, Spike was still fast asleep, curled up tightly against her body like when they had lain down. His latent heat still radiated off his body in waves, rising and falling in sync with his chest. Two, her clothes and pelt were dry, thanks to the dragon’s innate heat-exuding properties. If he hadn’t been one, she might have gotten sick overnight from the chills that would have undoubtedly overtaken her. Three, and perhaps most important, the sun had risen and was slowly making its way entirely out from behind the horizon. The spell she had placed on it to continue its path regardless of her mental state was still working, it seemed. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, as if the thunderstorm that had passed through the day before was nothing but a mere memory.

Groaning softly as her body protested her movement, Celestia slowly sat up, Spike’s embrace falling away as she did so. It was already becoming warm once more, but since this island was at far more northerly latitudes than the islands near the Equator, it was not going to become unbearably hot. What mattered to her was not their current situation, but how long it would take for the both of them to leave the coast and journey up to the dormant volcano. She remembered there was a small lake up there, and from above, even whilst falling, she could see greenery around it. If their luck held, there would be food up there for them: or, at least for her. She knew Spike could eat pretty much anything if he had to, and on this island, there wasn’t much in the way of diverse foodstuffs. Grasses of kinds, maybe a few fruit trees of some kinds, and if Spike was lucky, some jewels.

Celestia turned and looked down at Spike, his expression so peaceful for one who could have died the day before. Any other pony wouldn’t have slept a wink that night, but then again, Spike was no pony, and it showed. In many ways, he was stronger than he let on: his many adventures with his friends was proof enough of that. Softly, almost in a tender way, she stroked the side of his cheek. “Spike,” she whispered, leaning over slightly so her lips were closer to his ear. “Spike, it’s time to wake up.”

“Mmm... okay,” the dragon whispered, rolling over but not sitting up. He reached up with his hands and rubbed his face: likely his eyes, as Celestia couldn’t quite see from her angle. It was slightly reminiscent of when a foal would wake up and rub their eyes in an exaggerated manner. “What... what happened?”

“Nothing has happened, Spike,” Celestia said, watching as he slowly sat up. “At least, nothing that hadn’t already happened to us the day before: we’re still stranded on the island.”

“Ugh, my head,” the dragon muttered, his eyes opening as his hands went to rub his temples. “I feel like I just sat through another one of Twilight’s math lectures.”

Celestia smiled and let loose a small laugh. “Ah, yes: I have heard from your friends on how she disagrees with many on the number pi. She, if I remember correctly, “thinks pi is a repeating number, but we just haven’t reached the repeating part yet,” or something along those lines.”

“Yeah, she went through a severe pi phase a few months back,” Spike said, smiling a little at the memory himself. “They say the great forests of the North were permanently altered by her demand for parchment so she could write down all of the number and look for patterns.”

“Twilight does have an unusual devotion to her studies, though I suppose this is not necessarily a bad thing,” the princess said, rising up and motioning for Spike to do the same. “Come now, Spike: we must make our way to the mountain. It will be a long way up, and I should like to have made some significant progress by nightfall. It will take us at least two or three days to reach where we need to be.”

“But... this island is so small,” Spike said, confusion filtering through his tone as he took a step in front of her. “Why in the world would it take us that long to get where we need to go?”

“Spike, you forget: we have to climb that mountain, and we have no tools with which to do so,” Celestia said, nodding in the mountain’s direction. “That, and the easiest way up the slope is a long, winding path where the last lava flow was. It’ll be rather sharp, I might add, so we’ll have to go very slow.”

“But... couldn’t you fly us up there?” Spike asked, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “I mean... you do have wings.”

Celestia’s wings fluttered weakly behind her, a small flash of pain gracing her otherwise calm face. “My wings are hurt, Spike: more than I can say for certain. That fall in the water must have sprained them somewhat, as it does hurt to move them too fast or too far in any direction.” This was no lie: she actually couldn’t fly, and if she tried to, she’d only end up hurting herself even more. “Plus, even if my wings were not so sprained, I would be unable to support your weight ad mine, and I am not leaving you behind.”

“Oh, well, thank you, I guess,” Spike said softly. “Sorry about your wings, though. I know what it’s like not being able to fly.” His own lack of wings made him at times feel rather inadequate or incomplete, like something important was missing from his life.

“It is all right, Spike. I understand your concern, but fret not; my strength should return in a few days,” the princess said, kindly laying a hand on his shoulder and giving him a light squeeze. “But until then, it seems neither of us are going to be soaring in the air.” She didn’t fly that often, but she did enjoy the feeling; it was liberating, to be honest.

“Okay, so flying is out,” the dragon said, taking another step forward as if to help jog his memory, the princess’s hand falling from his shoulder. “What about your magic? Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, teleport us up there? Or maybe make us some spare clothes out of the stuff here on the coast?”

A few sparks shot forth from Celestia’s horn, but nothing happened. “I... I don’t think I can use my magic to a degree such as that,” the alicorn said. “I... I feel as though my wells of magic have been exhausted. I already put a lot of power into the spell to keep the sun rotating as normal, and with that last bit you accidentally released while we were falling... I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much magic. This island has a natural magic distortion, so it will take even longer for my magic to come back than it normally would.” Wow, she went from a goddess to hopeless in one night: she felt so embarrassed and just plain useless.

“I’m... sorry,” Spike said, coming to a rather harsh realization. Alicorns and unicorns depended on their magic for their livelihoods and day-to-day problems as often as a pegasus depended on their wings for, well, everything. To not be able to use a very integral part of their being must have been weighing very heavily on her conscious. He’d have to pay more attention to her, should she become depressed in the meantime.

“It is all right,” Celestia said again, her hand returning to his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I am still completely capable of getting around without the use of magic or my wings. It would undoubtedly be easier to do so with them, but fate has dealt me a rather crippling blow for the moment. So, like any princess, I must rise up to the challenge and deal with this the best I can.” Wow, she sounded so inspirational when she said that.

Spike sighed: both of those options were now officially gone. “Well, if magic and flying are both not possible, then we’ll just have to hoof it,” he said, glancing around. The jungles that covered much of the island’s lower interior seemed rather thick, and it appeared as though they gave way to large fields of grasses higher up in the numerous hills around the base. Off in the distance, along the west side, a stream of water fell from a crag in the rock: likely a tributary to the river he had saved the princess from yesterday. “What way should we take, though? I’ve never been here before.”

“If my memory serves me right, those grassy hills will give way to the old lava flow I was telling you about,” Celestia said, pointing to help Spike follow what she was seeing. “After that we’ll make our way up, and near the top of the volcano will be several caves and a small lake. I remember there being a vibrant, bountiful forest up there the last time I was here. It should give us many of the tools we’ll need.”

“To complete the vessel?” Spike asked as the two of them stepped forward in unison. “The vessel that will save the world?” Somehow he doubted wood of any kind would be able to stand up to a coronal mass ejection, but with Celestia’s magic (if it returned), anything was possible... right? Or maybe it was buried somewhere in the volcano and needed a completely lava-proof being to retrieve it?

“No, not exactly,” Celestia said as the pair entered the outer limits of the jungle. Already the temperature increased by nearly a dozen degrees and the undergrowth quickly became much denser. “I meant it’ll provide us the tools to survive until the time when we can save the world. We still have a little more than two weeks until that day arrives, and in that time it would be a horrible thing for us to grow weak. Whether from lack of food or water, we cannot let ourselves slack off. Spike, the world is depending on us. This is a task we must complete, ad so we must not let ourselves falter on this journey.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes more sense,” the dragon said, ducking under a low-lying tree branch. “Should I go first, or would you like to, as you know the way?”

“It would be better for you to go before me, Spike,” the princess said, stepping gingerly over a rotting log. “Your sharp claws could help clear a path, as we don’t exactly have any shears or machetes.” That and her own magic wasn’t working well enough for her to just move everything out of the way.

“Well, okay, but you might want to stand back,” Spike said, letting a bit of his more draconian ancestry take over his body. “I don’t want a swinging branch to catch you in one of your hurt wings.” In a few short seconds, his talons extended a few inches, more than long enough to cut through the thick undergrowth. With a slicing motion Spike cut through a large swath of tall ferns, the greenery tumbling to the ground at his feet.

Celestia stayed behind Spike as he moved forward, cutting a large path through the thick brush and tall grasses. He looked, from behind at least, like a gentlecolt explorer, similar to the ones from the exploratory days of old when ponies were spreading to other continents. After he was about ten or so feet ahead, Celestia began to slowly walk behind him, making sure to stay the same approximate distance away. She didn’t want to be caught by a swinging branch or one of his swipes, after all.

As Spike slashed through the undergrowth, his mind drifted away from the task at hand and roamed back to what had happened the day before. More specifically, what had happened before, during and after that thunderstorm. It was rather strange, that Celestia had chosen to just let the carriage fly through that large gathering of unfriendly clouds: perhaps she had simply thought they would be perfectly safe?

“Well, now we know just how safe we really were,” Spike thought to himself, slicing through a cluster of vines that hung down from the uppermost branches of a few trees. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen Celestia be wrong in a dangerous situation. I mean, she was defeated by Chrysalis since that changeling was so hopped-up on Shining Armor’s love, but... why did she say we’d be safe? Was she not concerned at all for us, or was she simply thinking that if she was there, then both of us would be fine?” It was not like him to doubt the princess, and as much as he didn’t want to, he had a small well of doubt build up in the pit of his stomach.

He sighed as he ducked under a branch that was far too thick for him to slice through. Speaking of being up there, he felt terrible for what he had done when he had gotten “stuck” in her... wow, he couldn’t even think it to himself in the correct terms. Okay, when he was... stuck, he had tried almost everything to pry himself out of her, and yet she had apparently freed him without much difficulty. She had told him it was okay when he tried to apologize, but Spike wasn’t so sure that was the case. Seriously, how many beings ever got to feel up Celestia in the ways he had done? Head stuck between her soft, cushiony breasts, his hands fondling those orbs as her nipples poked into his palms through the fabric, the-

“Dammit Spike, you can’t be thinking like that,” the dragon whispered to himself, mentally trying to shut down that train of thought. It would do him no good out here to be thinking of the princess like that, and yet... his brain rebelled against his control. He could still feel her body shudder around him when his hot breathe traveled down her dress: he could still hear her stifled moans when his tail slapped against her posterior. And oh, what a glorious posterior it had been: even though he had never truly fondled or slapped one before in his entire life, Spike could tell that Celestia had an ass that put many others to shame. It was round yet firm: it neither sagged nor bounced without a strong input of force, and even under that dress, his sensitive tail could tell it was soft. Soft like the finest silks, and smoother than the velvet dress-shirt Twilight had made him wear to a fancy ball the year before.

It was an amazing ass, an ass worthy of song: it was glori-ass.

But the more he tried to tell his brain to shut the Tartarus up and think of something else, the more he thought back to the princess and the way she had lain with him. Her body, cold from the watery grave she had so narrowly escaped (with help from him, he reminded himself), had curled into his without effort or difficulty. They fit perfectly together when entangled in the manner they had been the night before, and Spike had felt the beating of her heart, even in sleep, in tune with his own. He had never imagined the sound an alicorn’s heart would make, and Celestia’s was nothing like a frantic pounding of a scared pony. No, it was more like... the steady beating of a drum. Slow, measured, filled with potential power and a purpose that few others could hope to understand, if not explain. It was the heartbeat of one who had seen much in their life and would likely see much more.

Spike had no idea why it was so alluring to him. Perhaps a long-lived species such as him found comfort in the arms of one who could match or surpass his longevity?

Then he remembered, against his will, the feeling of her body against his own. The softness of her pelt, the delicate arms that intertwined with his own sometime during the night, her subtly powerful legs protected by the weight of his tail: it was maddening. He had always thought her attractive, as one would a relative or even a friend, but now... now he wasn’t so sure. One of her hands had interlaced with his, and although he had only awoken for a few minutes during the night, it had been enough to startle him. He had never known anypony like a princess, especially Celestia, to be so... intimate. He hated using that word, and what it implied made him want to hide from her, but it was nonetheless a true statement. Celestia always slept alone in her quarters, as all of Equestria knew, but Spike had never expected her to be a cuddler.

The more he tried to think of other, non-Celestia things, the more he noticed just how beautiful she was. She was skinny, but not in a starved sense: enough to be slim but with still enough “meat” on her bones to have an actual figure. Spike had seen the models in Rarity’s fashion magazines: thin stick-figures without a single redeeming feature. The princess did have a svelte waistline, but unlike those “models”, it was not that way from starvation and negative-calorie consumption. It was defined, toned to the highest degree by a combination of what must have been working out and a disposition for a higher metabolism. She did have a large amount of cakes and other sweets in her diet, and yet none of it showed on her body. Her hips came down from her glorious behind and were of the kind that made his knees go ever-so-slightly weak. That, combined with her lithe legs, made his mouth involuntarily water slightly; an action that both disgusted and slightly intrigued him.

Celestia was the package deal: a knockout body, a gorgeous face, a pelt, tail and mane that would make any red-blooded stallion cry, and a kind disposition that would leave any other stallion crying “I am not worthy to be near you!” or something. Spike felt horrible thinking about her like this. If he hadn’t been looking away from her, he would have felt like he was undressing her with his eyes like some lecherous lowlife. Wrestling away how he thought of her soft, beautiful wings, he concentrated on cutting through the foliage, doubling his efforts to hold back his imagination.

However, the dragon was not having the only thoughts like these. Celestia herself, though used to being in front of many a group, couldn’t help but look over Spike as he cut through the undergrowth in front of her. The way his tail swayed from side to side behind like a snake preparing to strike, the way his shirt bunched around his shoulders as he swung his arms left and right to clear a path.

The princess couldn’t have been more thankful to the dragon for saving her life the night before, but there was something she found herself even more grateful for. She had been alone much of her life, in the intimate way, anyway. She had never known a lover’s caress, a warm body sleeping next to her own, and yet last night, Spike had showed her the latter without a single word of protest. He had never left her side that night, his body entangled in hers in ways that still brought a pleasurable chill to her body. Celestia was not one for wasted emotions, as everything she did she did out of the goodness of her heart and for others, but right now she wanted nothing more than to lay next to him again, if only to recapture the feeling she had had the night before.

This dragon had been destined for this “assignment”, as no other being so perfectly suited her needs. He was more than just brave, having volunteered for this without much protest or indignation. He was kind, he was funny, he was brave when he needed to be and gentle all of the time. He would be able to take in stride what she would eventually dish out, and if properly nudged, would respond in kind to her “advances”. He had given her his complete trust, something she knew she was going to break in less than three weeks. But right now, she wasn’t thinking of his trust, nor his cute behind, nor the oddly arousing and intoxicating smell that came off of him in waves.

No, she was thinking about how he was going to make her into a proper mare. Surely that Rarity friend of his had given him some “friendly” affection, right? He was a very fine specimen of the dragon race, and his looks had only skyrocketed from when he was a cute youngster. That strong chin, that trim and yet strong body, those hands that had so delicately and yet roughly (accidentally as well) fondled her in the carriage as they went through the storm. His height was attractive, to Celestia anyways, and his spines were somehow intriguing as well.

It was in during this train of thought that the princess forgot to look where she was going, and as such, part of her dress caught on a large thorn bush. She almost fell when her momentum was halted by the gnarled, thorny branches, and so she stopped and tried to tug her dress out of the plant. It remained stuck fast, and she turned to Spike. “Spike?” she called. He didn’t respond, as he must have been off in his own little world. “Spike?” she called again with a more urgent tone in her voice. Again, no response, as the dragon was obviously either focusing on the task at hand or deep in thought.

Seeing as how calling to Spike wasn’t producing any results, Celestia turned back and tried to maneuver the dress out with her hands. That failed in a rather spectacular way, as she continuously poked her fingers and palms on the sharp thorns. Accepting she couldn’t maneuver it out, she resorted to pulling at it again. The more she pulled gently, the more it seemed to entangle itself within the woody plant.

Sighing in defeat, she just pulled as hard as she could, and suddenly she was free. Of course, that freedom had come at a price, judging from the great tearing sound that accompanied it. Looking down, Celestia saw the bottom portion of her dress had torn away, the rest now only extending down to an inch past her knees. Her legs were open to the warm, moist air and she felt a sudden small breeze flitter under her, gracing the previously-hidden pelt like a soft caress.

This made her at least a little angry, as many of the finest designers in Equestria had fretted over and hand-stitched this dress to fit her form perfectly. A brave and lucky few, both stallion and mare, had gotten to see her put it on, and they had all been sworn to secrecy. It had been made of some of the finest materials she could buy with her own (rather extensive) fortune, and so it was rather understandable that she was at least a little peeved it ripped.

Shuddering slightly from the small amount of anger and the breeze flittering across her lower legs, Celestia rushed to catch up to Spike, who had stopped for some reason of his own. When she drew nearer, she saw he had somehow gotten both arms stuck in the same kinds of thorn bushes as she had, though these were much taller. With two equally ferocious-sounding tearing noises, Spike tore his sleeves off his shirt, exposing his scaly biceps for the princess to see.

Since when did Spike work out? At least, that was Celestia’s first thought when she saw the bulging muscle. It was not massive, like those she had seen on Applejack’s brother when she had visited the family farm during the Sisterhooves Social two years previously. Yet, they were nothing to scoff at: perhaps all that time helping Applejack on the farm during Big Mac’s sickness last year had really paid off. Or maybe it was hauling around all that birdseed for Fluttershy’s menagerie of birds, or helping Pinkie Pie haul cooking ingredients into Sugarcube Corner? Whatever the case, they looked very firm, like there were solid bricks sewn beneath his scales. She trailed down his back as he pushed through the undergrowth, wondering just what else he could be hiding under all his clothes.

Once again, her inattentiveness gave way to slight disaster, and after another fierce toggle with some thorn bushes, she caught up to Spike, minus the sleeves her dress had previously had. However, unlike her gown, she had managed to save the fabric after it ripped off, so perhaps she could use it for something later.

“Spike, why did you stop?” she asked, almost bumping into him after she went around a corner in the cleared-out path.

“You might want to see this for yourself,” the dragon said, pointing in front of him. Celestia walked up beside him, peered through the underbrush, and gasped.

The thorn bushes they had been dealing with were nothing compared to what lay before them. A wall of thorns, at least twenty feet high, lay before them, and no matter which way they looked, it seemed to stretch on forever and ever. They grew thick in a matted series of knots that looks more like some defensive barricade than a living group of plants. It was an obstacle neither of them had expected.

“So, what do we do about this?” Spike asked, glancing at the princess as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I... I don’t know. I’ll need to think for a bit,” Celestia said softly, looking around. Spotting an old stump, she gently walked over and sat down, putting her head in her hands. She needed to think of something, anything, to get them over those thorns. Having Spike set them on fire was far too risky: what if the entire island burst into flame? Plus he may have been fireproof, but she surely was not, and the only place she would be safe from the fire in their current location was the river. That, in and of itself, presented a health risk: she could get hypothermia, or her clothes could shrink and she’d get a terrible rash, or perhaps there were a few sharks that swam up the river? The outermost part did flow out into what looked like a marsh-like mangrove swamp, and Celestia knew from her biology books that quite a few shark species had their babies there.

No, they could not burn the wall: Celestia would be put in terrible danger, and Spike would have much more trouble trying to get through it. Plus, he’d have to clear a path wide enough for her to not be skewered, and if he did that, he’d be dead tired by the time they reached the other side. Even worse, they didn’t know just how thick this wall of thorns was: was it a hundred feet thick, or only fifteen?

Oh, it was so hard to think clearly when she was like this! Her body was not up to its usual standards of use, her magic was fluctuating with the island’s, her mind was still frazzled from a brush with death, and perhaps least helpful was the fact she could feel her heat beginning. It started off subtle at the very beginning of it all, and every day it would build slowly until it reached its peak. The first thing to go would be a rational sense of thought and apparent intelligence, to aid in the acquiring of a mate. Intelligence more often intimidated the opposite sex when one was a female, which was possibly a reason why Twilight rarely if ever went on dates.

While Celestia was thinking to herself, Spike leaned against the wall of giant thorns, not caring if they poked through or tore into his shirt. It was just a shirt, not something valuable, after all. As an afterthought, he retracted his talons a bit, so they were no longer than when he had woken up. Looking back and remembering the path he had constructed, he tried to calculate just how far they had gone. A half mile? Two-thirds of a mile, maybe? The island itself had to be several miles across, and he knew they were not far from the coast at all if that was the case.

It was just so hard to tell just how far they had gone. His path, while never very twisting in nature, was likely quite a bit longer than if they had somehow managed to make a completely straight one. Adding to the fact that the path winded up and down a few large hills, and for all they knew, they were only a third of a mile from where they had started. Maybe getting on top of this thorn wall, which seemed to break above the sky-swallowing treetops, could give them a better judge as to their distance.

He thought of these things for a very simple reason: so he wouldn’t think about Celestia anymore! He had finally managed to cut off his train of thought about the alicorn mare when he had stopped at the wall of thorns. Only, in his eyes, they weren’t thorns: some of the larger ones looked more like sharpened railroad spikes, and some of the smaller ones grew in bunches that looked like they could hold a rampaging minotaur in place.

But even as he tried to keep his mind off of the princess, Spike’s eyes turned towards her, looking directly at her face. He was not trying to keep his eyes off her body, nor was he trying to memorize her facial features: instead, he was watching her think. The way she furrowed her brow, how her tongue would occasionally flit out of her mouth and brush over her bottom lip: the way she’d occasionally bite that same lower lip. To put it simply he found her actions downright adorable, which some might think as weird; he didn’t. She’d even scrunch her nose up in a cute way that made her look like she’d smelled something questionable.

Celestia turned to Spike, who upon seeing she was staring back at him, quickly averted his eyes. “Spike? Is something the matter?” the princess asked, having just ruled out a bridge over the thorns. It’d take way too damned long, and they’d likely deforest a huge area to get the supplies.

“Uh, no; it’s nothing, Celestia,” the dragon said hurriedly, thankfully remembering their deal and using her name instead of her title. “I was just... thinking. Yeah, I was thinking was all.”

“About what?” the princess asked, rising from the stump and walking up to him.

Damn: she wasn’t making this any easier for him. She’d caught him looking at her, and now he had to think of something plausible or her questioning would make him confess. “Uh... about the thorns,” he said slowly, his brain working furiously to try and get everything he was thinking of to fit together. “Could... could I climb over them? They can’t hurt me, after all, and they are pretty thick.”

“Hmm...” the princess muttered, stroking her chin softly as she looked up the thorn wall. “You know, that’s not a bad idea, Spike. Only... where will I climb? I am no dragon: just a soft, easily-damaged alicorn with no impenetrable scales.”

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that,” Spike said, rubbing the back of his neck in an embarrassed manner. How would she get over if he climbed? She couldn’t fly, teleport or even float herself over with a bit of magic, and she sure as Tartarus couldn’t dig under the damned thing. He had a feeling the root system would be too thick for even him to dig under, and there was no telling if the tunnel could collapse under the weight above it.

Wait a minute... if he climbed, she could get over the thorns! “I think I know a way, but I want your opinion on this,” Spike said, stepping away from the thorn wall. A few small holes were left in the back of his shirt, and there was a slight gash down the lower part.

“Go ahead, Spike,” Celestia said, curious as to what he could have thought of. He hadn't been silent for very long, so maybe his mind was a bit sharper than she thought?

“Well, if you climbed on my back and held on tight, I’m sure I could climb up and across those thorns,” Spike said. “Of course, to help support you better and move around safer, I’d have to walk on all fours. It’d be a slower way than if I walked upright, for sure, but I wouldn’t be able to securely hold onto those thicker ones with my feet. So... whaddaya say?”

Celestia was silent for a few moments, the gears in her head churning as she judged Spike’s plan and weighed her other options. Except... there weren’t really any other options. “I would say your plan is rather creative, even if a bit... unorthodox,” the princess said, a small smile gracing her full lips. “But, how am I going to hang on for a longer amount of time? We don’t have rope, and even though my physical strength has returned, I don’t think I could hold on for too long, should this wall be thicker than we anticipate.”

“You’ll sling your arms around my neck and hold on,” Spike said simply. “Once I’m up top, you’ll be laying down instead of hanging off of me, so it shouldn’t be as much of a problem.” He knew he was right, but Spike was not sure just how far he would have to go. The thorns would no doubt hold his weight, but would they hold the combined weight of him and Celestia?

“Then let us begin,” Celestia said, taking a step back. Spike turned around and grabbed onto a few good handholds, his scales providing small latches on which the thorn tips could catch, but not puncture. He looked back at the princess, a sudden look of apprehension flickering across her features.

“Well, come on then,” the dragon said simply, jerking his head in a “come here” motion. “It’s almost midday and I’m sure you’d like to be far away from these thorns by nightfall.” He did: something about them seemed rather... odd. Not sinister, but then again, when did thorns grow in such a configuration as this?

Celestia gulped as the dragon looked away, taking a few steps closer to him. Of course, she could do this! She was Princess Celestia, co-ruler of Equestria! Adored by countless ponies, loved by just as many, and respected by countless beings across the planet and onwards! It wasn’t like she had never been carried by another in her adult life, and she wasn’t afraid or anything!

Except... she never had been carried: she was alicorn, and in Canterlot she had never needed a reason to be carried. Even if she had, it would have been on a royal hamper, complete with guards carrying her aloft as if she weighed nothing at all. But out here, there was no Canterlot: no guards, no hampers, no plushy cushions to rest on. No, instead there was a young, deceivingly strong, male dragon’s shirt-encompassed back, a back she was not sure she would be able to stay on if he were to slip slightly. Through the uppermost holes in said shirt she could see a bit of his shoulder blades bulging outwards, likely caused by the current position he was holding his arms in.

Slipping her arms around his neck and clenching her hands tightly together, she pressed her body against his back, offset slightly to avoid his dorsal spines. Her legs also curled around his waist, her full weight falling on him as she hooked her hooves together around his abdominal/pelvic area. She shuddered slightly as she pressed against his lower abdomen. Was she hanging onto a dragon, or a chiseled marble statue?

Spike grunted slightly at the extra weight, but compared to the other things he’d had to carry in the past, Celestia weighed practically nothing. The feeling of her dress-bound breasts pressed tightly into his back did little assuage his earlier mental conflict, but Spike held on to his mind and managed to push the feeling out of his focus. Pulling up and grasping another large thorn with his hand, he glanced behind him. Celestia’s head was buried between his shoulder blades, and he could tell her eyes were clenched shut. Was she expecting to fall any moment?

“Better not let her down, then,” he thought to himself, continuing the climb. Luckily, there were a lot of big thorns close together for him to easily grab, but he had to keep his body away from the wall itself. Celestia’s arms and legs could get horribly scratched if he hugged the wall. So, to help him balance a bit, he held his tail out straight behind him. The largest of the spines provided the princess something akin to a seat, so her full weight wouldn’t be on her arms and legs.

Celestia shivered slightly from the feeling of her posterior resting upon the spine, her body straddling the dragon’s back as she held on. Thankfully her dress was still tight enough across her bum to form a sort of seat so the spine wouldn’t wedge itself between her butt cheeks, but it was an odd experience to say the least. It was a good thing Spike’s spines were rather dull, for if they had been sharp, he might had cut right through the fabric and possibly into her. As an added bonus, every time Spike moved, her breasts involuntarily slid back and forth slightly against his back, sending a very subtle shudder up her spine.

Slowly but surely, Spike climbed up the thorn wall, the tops of the trees getting closer and closer with each passing motion. He almost slipped once, when one thorn crumbled under his foot, but luckily he had had a better foothold on another one, and his handholds were secure enough to handle the sudden extra weight. After that incident, he had no more problems, and soon enough he passed the uppermost branches of the jungle canopy. Like a might orca bursting through the salty water off the northern coasts of Equestria, he climbed up and out through the canopy, just as his hand met a ledge on the wall. Climbing up and over it, Spike sprawled himself out on all fours, his body naturally adjusting to the position due to his dragon heritage.

He could feel Celestia tremble slightly in the sudden sunlight, her shivers sending a chill through his own body. “Celestia?” he said: no response. “Celestia, you can open your eyes now: we’re on top of the thorns.”

“We... we are?” the princess said in a squeak. Wow: she must have been really frightened at the prospect of falling off of Spike, judging from her death-grip.

“Yes, we are” the dragon said simply, taking a few tentative steps forward. “You might want to take a look at this.” His voice was soft, as if it were filled with awe. Now what could he be seeing that would bring about such a reaction in the midst of their current attempt to cross an obstacle?

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Celestia opened her eyes and tilted her head up from Spike’s back. What greeted her sent a bolt of astonishment directly into her brain.

The thorns were like a mudslide, in that they swelled up into the sky like small hills and dipped down here and there. All over the place, small birds flittered about, feasting on reddish berries that grew off of the greenery on the thorn walls’ top. Butterflies flittered about on the greenery, the pink and yellow flowers that had not yet transformed into berries attracting them with a vengeance. Off in the distance, the veritable garden on top of the hellish wall disappeared: it was the other side.

All around them, the jungle seemed to stretch on forever, stopping only when it reached a river. In fact, it was likely the very same river Celestia had almost drowned in, but this was a much less mature stretch of water: even from this distance, it looked turbulent, fast-flowing, and dangerous. After that river, the trees thinned out, until only scattered shrubs and a large field of grasses and wildflowers remained. Colors of all sorts blossomed out in that terrain, the colors mixing together on one’s eye if they stared too long. After that, the shrubs disappeared, and the grasses became sparse under the shadow of the mountain. Higher up still, the grasses gave way to large boulders and what looked like old lava flows, as the bare rock looked like a muddy river frozen in place. After that, sheer rock face and a thin, winding ledge wound itself up and around the mountain, the natural path eventually disappearing from sight entirely.

As Spike moved, Celestia continued to look around them, taking in the sights and smells of the suddenly transformed thorn garden. The flowers had a fragrance to them that reminded her of a cross between cinnamon and honey, with the subtle fragrance of mint coming off of the green leaves. As a test, she quickly unhooked one hand, pulled off a leaf, and held it to her nose. It did indeed smell of wintergreen, and Celestia knew no poisonous plants grew on the island. She had cast a spell on the island a while ago that prohibited such plants from germinating. So, as an experiment, she placed the leaf in her mouth, wound her arm back around Spike’s neck, and chewed gently.

“Mmm... refreshing, with a slightly sour aftertaste,” she said, swallowing the chewed-up leaf with a small smile of pleasure. It was good: perhaps she would pick some more...

As Spike walked, he couldn’t help but feel how Celestia kept shifting her weight on his back. Glancing back, he saw her eating some leaves, a strangely pleased look gracing her features. Feeling a bit hungry himself, he let his long tongue slurp out and ensnare a bundle of leaves, some ripe berries caught up in the mix. Retracting his wriggling tongue into his mouth, he chewed slowly.

“Mmm, the leaves are good, but those berries are strangely... both sweet and sour,” he thought, swallowing the mixture. Snaking his tongue out again, he stopped and plucked a few berries from the mix, making sure they weren’t coated in his saliva. “Here,” he said to the alicorn on his back. “Try these; they’re pretty good.”

Celestia, slightly startled by Spike’s offering, gingerly accepted his small gift and popped the berries into her mouth. As the unexpected taste filled her mouth, she smiled and hummed slightly in pleasure: who knew eating a strange food could be so good? In fact, she had to have more, and with the tiniest burst of magic that she could afford, the torn sleeves she carried reformed into a makeshift bag. Reaching out as far as she could, she began to grab leaves and berries and toss them into the bag. They’d need food, after all: they hadn’t eaten since early yesterday, and by now, they were both rather famished.

A new wrinkle had been added to the cloth that was their journey: they’d need more food than they had anticipated, and that meant they’d eventually have to forage.

Spike, after swallowing another bundle of berries and leaves, suddenly found himself at the end of the wall of thorns. Sadly, he found this out too late, and tumbled over the edge, Celestia tumbling with him. Amidst their shouts of surprise, Spike luckily managed to wedge the spade-like end of his tail into a cluster of larger thorns, stopping his fall. Almost on instinct, Spike reached up and grabbed Celestia by her hands as she fell, grabbing them as her legs caught under his arms. With some great effort he pushed her back onto his back, and with one hand holding her in place, he used the other to get a good grip on the wall.

“Celestia, please don’t freak out, but I’m going to let go of the wall with my tail,” the dragon said, an idea forming in his head in a few short seconds.

“Wha-,” Celestia was only able to say before Spike’s tail came free from the thorns. With another shout of surprise, Celestia felt them swing down, and then around, and up again, until they stopped. Looking around in bewilderment, she saw what Spike had done. He had let them fall, and using the thorn as a pivot point, he had spun them and managed to end right-side up. His other hand had grabbed on quickly, and now that he had control, he began to slowly climb down.

“Spike, you should have given me a bit more... warning before you did that,” the princess said with a slight tone of admonishment filtering through her voice.

“I know, but it was easier this way,” the dragon said as he reached the bottom of the thorn wall. Stepping off and backwards, he kneeled slowly to the ground. Celestia hopped off his back, glad to be back on good, solid ground once more. “How much did you get in your “harvest period” up there?”

Celestia had almost forgotten about the makeshift bag she was carrying. Looking down into it, she grimaced slightly: it was some, but not near enough. “I’d say... we got enough food here for another day or two, depending on how much we can conserve,” she said.

“Well, this is an island: I’m sure there’s a lot more food for us to find out there,” Spike said. As if to emphasize his point, he swept his arm out before them in a mock-grandiose pose. Despite herself, Celestia let forth a little giggle: he really did act silly sometimes.

“Oh Spike, you mustn’t worry about food: you were right when saying this island has much in the way of foodstuffs,” the princess said with a smile. She should know: a good half of the plants on this island were from her personal botanical gardens back in Canterlot, transplanted as saplings many decades ago to help the island develop an ecosystem.

“Then, shall we go, my lady?” Spike asked, bowing and sweeping his arms to the side to let Celestia pass him by like a true gentledragon. However, he had apparently forgotten the fact that the undergrowth of the jungle was still rather thick, as Celestia let loose another giggle.

“Spike?” she said, pointing in front of them. The dragon looked up and groaned: it was indeed going to be another long trek through the jungle’s interior, and so he began to tear at the foliage once more, his claws flashing in the subdued light. The going was not nearly as rough as it had been before, but every now and then, their clothes would catch slightly on a few errant thorn bushes.

Walking behind the dragon once more, Celestia looked back at the thorn wall one last time before it was swallowed up by the jungle. So the pair of them continued their journey, the princess stopping every now and then to collect more small fruits or edible leaves, making sure to never tally for too long. It was only a few hours after noon, and it would do them plenty good to make good progress before sundown.

They both knew progress would be the key to their success.

Author's Notes:

Ah, much less pandering and much more detail. Plus, character interaction that promotes development: yay!

I think a lot of people will like the next chapter. I know my proofreaders and I liked this one.

Also, longest chapter yet! Yay!