It took too much effort for Pinkie to drag herself out of bed. Her head was clouded by aches, a thin layer of sweat across her skin. Definitely, she’d overdone it last night. It was something she needed to do, though. At the very least, she had craved the chance to drink the pressures of the present away.

Still, she was dressed. Looking across the room, she saw Spike slumped in a chair, head rested on his hand. Slowly, painfully, she got up and crept over to him. Brushing back his green hair, she gave him the softest of kisses on his forehead.

“Thanks, my special little man,” she whispered.

She then left him, tip-toeing past Celestia and out of the room. As always, the all-folk looked as serene as ever. Like a living art piece.

Carefully she went, down the stairs. Her clothes felt dirty, sticking to her from the night before but in the frozen morning air, they would do. With the wendigo dealt with, and fog clinging to the buildings around her, it was almost as if the town had heaved a collective sigh of relief.

On she went, to the edge of town, her gut feeling like someone had put a lead weight within. She took in deep breaths, trying to shake off that sickness. The hangover would persist but if she could prevent herself from throwing up, that was a victory.

Stopping in front of a thick tree, she dove into her pockets and grabbed her throwing knives. It’d been a while since she’d last practiced and Jack and Rarity’s escapade with the wendigo only reminded Pinkie that she needed more training.

Pinkie threw each of the knives at a fast rate. The tree was an easy target but in her hungover condition, she was pleased that at least each weapon had embedded itself in the tree’s bark. Now she was beginning to get consistent, at least when standing still.

So she took them out of the tree and started throwing them again but while moving side to side. Since her body was not in the mood for fast movements, she just walked, but tried to vary the distance and times she changed direction.
A small collection of knives ended up sitting at the base of the tree.

“Not good enough. Again,” Jack’s words drummed through her mind.

“Sorry,” Pinkie said, picking up the knives and trying again.

“This is serious. Ya gotta think ‘bout this sorta stuff. If ya don’t, yer jus’ gonna get hurt.”

Pinkie nodded and tried again, spitting on the ground when she got too many misses. Back she went to pick them up and try again, only to miss, go back, then try again.

If any of her friends had told her that Rarity would be capable of besting her in a fight, Pinkie would’ve just laughed with them. Yet what was once a joke had become stark reality. Rarity was the perfect partner, independant enough to bloom into a beautiful flower but always unrelentingly loyal and loving. She’d realized that being with Jack meant she had to take up certain responsibilities, even if Jack didn’t approve of them. One of them was getting stronger, so she could take care of herself and Jack, if it ever came down to it.

The knives clattered to the ground, a memory flashing through Pinkie’s mind. Spike’s—no, those eyes. Reptilian, cold… hungry. They had pierced through her, seeking only the joys of her flesh. Rarity was with a dangerous woman but one that would never lay a bad hand upon her. Pinkie was dating someone who could turn into a monster and rip her heart out.
It was a risk, being with him. She knew Spike would give it his all not to give in to the monster inside, but that was never a guarantee. Was being with him worth the cost of her life?

She grabbed the knives and stood up. Life was full of risks anyway, what was one more? This was her responsibility. To be stronger so she could save herself. It was one she was willing to take on.

If only that was the end of it. Could she save Spike from himself? If he lost control, would she be able to take on Jack to protect him? Celestia? Even if she could, would she?

Maybe she could run, if things ever came to that. Bait the monster to follow her. A life on the run was worth it, as long as it meant Spike was safe. He was worth it.

Sighing, she slumped up against the tree, hugging her knees. She was afraid. So afraid of what might happen to her and to him. A normal person may have left, gone back home, away from this madness.

But Pinkie was never normal to begin with and now, she was deeply in love. Spike was the very same. His heritage had meant he was always different from everybody else, an outsider to society. Not an outcast but somebody without a sense of belonging.

She was almost the same. A full blooded earth-folk, just like Jack, but… different. She thought differently and acted differently from anyone else she knew. Even her own family back on the farm. They were all strong miners with a good work ethic. Pinkie? She wasn’t strong like them, nor did she ever fit in right with the farm. She wasn’t hated but she was definitely not cut from entirely the same cloth.

In Spike, she had someone who understood all that. A person who could listen if she needed it, a person who could tolerate—no, embrace her differentness. All his other charms, like his looks, his good humor, his laugh, his smile, his well-mannered yet gentle personality… all parts of the complete package that she was so deeply in love with.

If he wasn’t worth risking her life over, she had no idea what would be.

Blocking a cough with her hand, she rose to a knee, then brought herself up. Then she started moving and practiced, again and again, until Jack would approve.

“Early for training,” a woman’s voice commented.

The knives fell to the ground once more, Pinkie’s hands fumbling thin air. “Oh, u-um,” she turned, blinking a few times as she saw Celestia standing before her. “Princess?”

“Good morning, Diane. Couldn’t sleep?” she inquired, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Hangover,” Pinkie muttered, attempting to brush down her unkempt hair. “Needed some air.”

“You did drink your fair share last night,” Celestia agreed with a laugh.

“Sure was fun, huh?” Pinkie asked, smiling. “Hope you enjoyed it. I know I did.”

“Was needed. Not just for us, but for the men and women living here. In a way the turnout we had was concrete proof that the village has started to regain hope. And you were part of that. Thank you, Diane.”

“Aw, shucks,” Pinkie said, her smile turning coy. “I didn’t do much. Jack and Rarity did the hard stuff.”

“Sometimes it’s harder to put on a brave face after the fact than it is to accomplish what they did. Not to discredit them. To defeat a wendigo was an impressive feat, especially for an earth-folk.”

“Jack’s one tough cookie.” Pinkie glanced at the mark on her hand. A trio, similar to Jack’s but hers were just mere balloons. “Not sure there’s anything she wouldn’t try and take on.”

“Considering the incident with Dmitri, I’m inclined to agree. I almost wish she would join the guard full-time. We could use more women like her.”

“Good luck with that. She’s way too close to her family to join something as impersonal as that,” Pinkie said, crouching down to collect her weapons.

“I expected as much. I’m surprised she decided to assist Will in his hunts, honestly.”

“I really should ask her about that… but if I was gonna guess, she just likes taking matters in those strong farming hands of hers.” She shrugged. “Whatcha doing out here, anyway? You should be having a nice lie-in!”

“If I’m honest, I heard you and it woke me. All-folk ears, after all,” Celestia said, giving a point to them in demonstration. Even at that information, she still held a serene smile, indifferent to the fact that she was disturbed.

“Oh, sorry,” Pinkie replied sheepishly. “But that still doesn’t explain why you followed me out here.”

“Curiosity, mainly. There are not many points of interest here, so I came to see what caught your eye.”

“I told ya,” she turned, focusing on the tree again and avoiding the all-folk’s gaze. “Had to get some air.”

“You could have opened a window. I wouldn’t have minded.” Celestia looked once more to the tree herself. “Does my presence bother you?”

“No! It’s not that it’s just…” Pinkie’s speech devolved into mumbles, as she threw a knife at the tree.

“Could you do that again?” Celestia kindly asked.

“What? The knife thing?” Pinkie replied, twirling one in her fingers.

The all-folk nodded her confirmation.

“Um, okay.” She threw another knife, which struck the tree without incident, or anything particularly flashy occurring.

“Your form is good, considering the new introduction to armaments,” she complemented. “I’m sure with practice you’ll become quite adept.”

“Thanks,” Pinkie said, throwing a few more. “I’m nothing like Jack, or even Rarity, though. I don’t think it’s gonna help if,” she swallowed, “if things get bad.”

“Does that matter?” Celestia questioned, seeming to not understand her worries. “Your talents lie elsewhere. We’ll protect you.”

Pinkie fiddled with a knife in her hand, fingers running over the blade. “Never a guarantee of that.”

“It’s the duty of the strong to protect the weak. As long as I draw breath, that is something I will do.”

Biting her lip, the knife in Pinkie’s fingers was flipped around faster and faster. “What if you had to protect someone who was weak against someone else who was weak?”

“Why would they be fighting?” she asked. “There would need to be a good reason for it, wouldn’t there?”

“If one of them wasn’t themselves, maybe,” Pinkie answered.

“Spike,” Celestia said, rather than asked.

Pinkie flinched, the knife’s blade cutting her finger, drawing a small amount of blood. “Mmm.”

“Dragon-blood are…” the woman paused, her words stalled as she thought things through. “They can be frightening.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie quietly agreed.

“What needs done is separating the boy from the beast. Spike himself, he’d never hurt you. Just keep that in mind.” She gave a small tilt of her head. “What prompted that thought, Diane? Did something happen? Has he been acting aggressively?”

“The kraken. He tapped into it—the beast. Then for a split-second he just gave me this look. Like he wanted me, as a treasure. And despite everything that happened, I remember that most vividly.” Pinkie sucked the wound on her finger. “Wish I didn’t.”

“I know Spike. He wouldn’t have transformed unless someone’s life was in danger.” Crossing her arms, she sighed. “Dragons, in their true form, are creatures with a base emotional drive. Happiness becomes hedonism, righteous indignation becomes wraith, and love can become simple lust. Spike, being a bastard blood, will have these traits lessened, but not completely eradicated, within him.”

Pinkie grunted, plucking knives out of the tree. “I’m not going to leave him. Not for the world, and not for those traits either.” Sighing, she rubbed at her arm. “I just want to be safe with him. And for him to be happy with me, and never worry about losing control.”

The all-folk looked at the woman and wryly smiled. “That’s the goal of every relationship, isn’t it? Being safe with another. Though it’s harder for some than others. And remember than no matter what, he cares for you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Pinkie snapped back. “Of course I know he cares, I love him! But that monster inside, it isn’t him, and it doesn’t care about any of that!”

“Then don’t let the monster out,” Celestia replied easily. “Tell me, how often have you seen him like that before this trip? Before your life was in danger?”

“None but that was way different! We’re not in St. Charles anymore, not even I can pretend things are just totally gonna be normal while we’re here! People have died already, good people!”

“You think I don’t know that?” she countered. Though it was gone as soon as she asked, there was a spark of, not harsh enough to be anger, but exasperation, perhaps, in her eyes. “But ‘here’ isn’t going to be for much longer. We’ll need Spike's assistance for one thing, perhaps, and then that’s all. We’ll have the grail and we can go home. You can go home, back to normal. Back to safety. I’ll make sure of it.”

“But what if whatever you need him for is too much for him to take. What if he does lose control?” Pinkie asked, giving Celestia an unflinching stare. “I need to know, what then?”

Celestia’s silence spoke volumes. The stance she held suggested exactly what would happen in the worst case. “Spike… he’s a son to me. I held him in my arms, I took him to breast. I told him he was going to grow up and be one of my proudest accomplishments. But if it means the safety of the group, if there’s no way to bring him around. I’ll protect you. It’s my burden, mine and my sisters, to do what the common man cannot.”

“I can’t let you just kill him! Even if that means I’ll be in danger, that’s a risk I want to take!” Pinkie cried, stepping forward.

The princess stared at Pinkie before nodding. In a way, she expected the answer—was perhaps even slightly pleased with the other woman’s outburst and rejection. Just as easily, Celestia replied.

“If it is, then why worry about what the future holds? Take the risk. Don’t be afraid of him or what might happen. Live the moment, love the moment. That’s all you can do with a partner and all you can ask for in life.”

“There’s just one problem with moments,” Pinkie said, quieter now. “They end. And I never want ours to.”

“Diane.” Celestia put a hand on the other’s shoulder. “There’s always an ending. Believe me. But spending your whole life dreading it is no way to live. Even all-folks meet an end eventually.”

Pinkie nodded, gazing downward. “Is there anything you can do to help him?”

“Other than being a shoulder to cry on? No. If anything, you may be the better odds on helping him. He needs someone to understand him and accept him now more than ever.”

“I can do that, if nothing else.”

Celestia warmly smiled. “And you worried about being weak. You’re doing something none of us could for him.”

She blinked, looking up at the all-folk. “Huh?”

“You’re making him strong. You’re giving him a chance to walk on his own two feet. None of us have that power, Diane.”

“Well…” Pinkie giggled to herself, heat rushing to her cheeks. “He is my special little man.”

Celestia shared the same small laugh. “And I’m sure he feels the same about you. He’s loyal almost to a fault. He’ll take good care of you.”

“Has so far. He put me to bed last night after I, um…” She trailed off, into some more embarrassed laughs. Celestia shared them, her hands at her hips and her mouth in a full-toothed grin.

“At least you woke up in the right bed.”

“Don’t even joke about that! Who else could—eugh, no way!” Pinkie started making her way back to the inn, shaking her head. Celestia smiled, pleased that she had revived Pinkie’s mood and took to walking after her.

“Oh, I’m sure the innkeeper wouldn’t have minded the company, or myself, even.”

“No way!” Pinkie repeated in protest, making Celestia tilt her head back in laughter.