April 7th, 1001 Domina Solaria

Spike’s claws drum against his scales, the staccato beats drowned out by a steady clip-clop-clip of suitcase-wielding businessmares.

He stares at the train car that will convey him to the Crystal Empire. It’s a squat, utilitarian hauler suited for grueling trips through frigid cold and snow-packed rails. He’s surprised, not that the workhorse could make it up the Canterhorn without an engine change at the Lower Canterlot Station, but that it came up at all. Changeling built, the dark gray walls with garish green accents stand out like a sore hoof amidst the bright and cheerful lifters that circle the lonely mountain.

Ponies pass him by, smoothly maneuvering around the stationary dragon and his single suitcase. He can’t help but think that they are avoiding looking at him, judging by the guarded scowls and frustrated snorts. The outsider that stole the position as Emperor of the Crystal Empire from its rightful pony owner. No matter that he had been born in Canterlot, raised here, and couldn’t see himself living anyplace else. Well, if they have a problem, they should just say it to his face, right?

He stands straighter, wriggles his shoulders back and forth until his chest puffs out, and firmly locks his gaze ahead of him. That’s how the Royal Guards stand, right? They don’t let anything faze them: not the sight of a dragon riding a pony’s back, or when he made funny faces at them from said pony’s back, or when the two collapsed into a laughing heap because that pony noticed the faces he was making.

He sighs, unconsciously slouching back to the lax position he finds most comfortable. Maybe it’s for the best that Twilight already left for Ponyville. After all, he’s the Brave and Glorious Spike, right? He helped save the Crystal Empire, and now he’s going to lead them!

He puffs out his chest, only to realize how his posture has already degraded. He grunts, berating himself mentally, as he resumes standing at what he approximates as ‘attention’, just like Shining Armor used to do.

“Nervous?”

Spike glances at the pink Princess parting the morning commuters as effortlessly a pegasus parts the air. He notices his mistake immediately after making it, turning to again face forward.

“W-what,” he starts, his voice breaking. He cuts off, deepening his voice, which makes him sound like a child trying to sound old. Which is exactly true, as much as he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. “What makes you think that?”

Cadance softly chuckles, a soft warmth like a blanket just pulled from the dryer, as she walks up to Spike’s side. “When I became a Princess,” she confides, mimicking his imperious stance. “I hated it.”

“You did?” Spike’s eyes go wide, abandoning any pretense at playing guardpony. “I thought everypony dreamed of becoming a Princess!”

“You’d have to ask Luna that,” Cadance returns jovially. “And, maybe, I counted myself in that group. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about this.”

Princess Cadance straightens up, higher than Spike has ever seen her. It’s not high enough to crest Celestia’s impressive height, not by a long shot, but Spike would put her even with the larger stallions, like Big Mac or Prince Blueblood. A hair taller than Princess Luna, maybe, but he’d want to line the two up to compare.

Then her wings spread wide, twin purple and pink majesties whose feathers match her mane while the forelimbs blend into her coat. If anypony feigned to not notice the Princess before they drop the act; the impressive display stalls traffic in the otherwise busy train station, many respectfully inclining their head if not reverently dropping to a knee.

And then, as quickly as they unfurled, Cadance pulls her wings to her sides and seems to shrink into herself. The magnanimous aura surrounding her fades, not that ponies would have ascribed their demonstration of adoration to magically enforced awe instead of genuine appreciation. Motion resumes along the platform, unsure at first before returning to an efficient bustle.

“Wow,” Spike utters, eyes sparkling with wonder at the impressive display. “Let me try!”

With a great ‘Huzzah!’ Spike leaps on top of his suitcase, draconic wings flaring wide. He stretches his claws above him like some towering fiend, intimidating fangs backlit by embers threatening to burst forth.

“Ahh!” “It’s a dragon attack!” “Run away!”

Worry replaces menace as Spike watches the platform erupt into chaos: ponies twist and ram into each other as they hurry away, narrowly missing trampling those that fall to the ground in a dead faint. And yet there is a note of laughter in their screams, a hint of feigned fear, a lack of pungent sweat staining the air.

Spike sighs to himself as he hops down, glumly staring at the floor. The once-panicking ponies gradually regain their composure; those on the ground cautiously open one eye, and upon seeing that the ‘danger’ has passed pick themselves up and trot along to their previous engagements. He self-consciously runs a claw along his arm, grimacing at the lack of bulky muscles or other majestic features that he might magnify.

“I thought it was a very frightening display,” Cadance consoles.

Spike huffs. “You think I’ll ever be able to do what you did? They didn’t fake it with you like they did with me. The Emperor should beckon, and the world attend.”

Cadance’s soft smile spreads a warmth through his already-toasty body as she nestles next to him. “If you work at it,” she counsels, though there is a slight hesitation. “I had to. I didn’t want to be seen as some high-and-mighty aristocrat, elevated above everypony else. But that’s what ponies expect of their rulers, how Princess Celestia has been seen for generations. But me? I hated the dereference, the supplication, the imploring whimpers, even as I practiced to receive them as a proper Princess should.”

“O-oh,” Spike says, his claws furling and unfurling against his palms. That… as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, that is what he wants. To feel respect and admiration, to be seen as a valued member of the community.

“So we came to a bit of an arrangement,” Cadance continues. Her wings spread from her sides just a fraction, enough to give a few of the nearest ponies pause. “When I, or any of the other alicorns except perhaps Princess Celestia, spread our wings? That’s their cue to treat us with a certain amount of adoration and devotion. Otherwise?” Her wings tuck fully against her barrel. “I’m just a regular, approachable pony. They can talk to me about something simple that they’re worried about, like an upcoming test, or something intimate, or just to share a joy.”

Spike glances up, unsure at what he just heard or how he should react. But the inviting smile on Cadance’s muzzle indicates no subterfuge or judgement. Before today? He would have seen Twilight as the pony who would want to talk about each of those topics: the latest book assignment Celestia gave her, the way she curled up in her bed rereading the material, and the sheer exultation at yet another perfect mark. He wouldn’t have seen himself as somepony who confides about, well, any of those three topics.

Maybe it’s the dragon in him talking, but he doesn’t want to talk, either. They are his problems to work through! Just like it’s him as emperor! The Brave and Glorious Spike doesn’t need to take advice!

Cadance’s smile falters, if just for a split second. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But I’m here if you ever feel the need.”

“Well, there is one thing I wanted to ask,” Spike says, drawing an excited twitch from her. He look up into her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Are you happy with me being the ruler of the Crystal Empire?”

Cadance closes her eyes for a moment. “Do you want the honest answer or the one that makes you feel better?”

Spike growls, resentful that she might coddle him. “One should never be astonished by the brutality of this world. I can take it.”

Cadance’s lip pulls between her teeth, nibbling while she contemplates. “I desperately hope you make a good ruler, Spike.”

“That’s ‘The Brave and Glorious Spike’,” he jovially corrects.

Cadance smiles, chuckling along. “Of course, your Majesty, the Brave and Glorious Spike.” She bows low, though without a hint of mocking.

“Oh, well, you don’t have to do that,” Spike says, rubbing a claw along the back of his head.

As Cadance rises she fondly nuzzles the dragon on his cheek, then pulls away with a contemplative look at the open sky. “When I got my cutie mark, I didn’t know what it really meant. I thought it was about sharing love, because that’s how I earned it. Princess Celestia, however, recognized its significance immediately. She shared with me everything she knew about the Crystal Empire, which was unfortunately limited. After the Umbrum were driven away by the power of the Crystal Heart, the crystal ponies were able to regain their autonomy under Princess Amore. But it wasn’t long before King Sombra took over, and he banished the city when the Princesses stopped him. Celestia had not thought to store her memories in the Vault of Remembrance, and those she carried were already recorded elsewhere.”

“So you’re saying you can’t help me very much,” Spike says with a hint of annoyance.

Cadance’s smile purses to a grim line. “The Crystal Ponies have been through so much. Far more than I could ever comprehend, enough to make Chrysalis imprisoning me for a week seem like a vacation. I thought my mark, my ability to spread love, would help them in that regard. So if I am worried?” She takes a deep breath. “It is only because I want the best for them. And yet Harmony must have some higher purpose for me, it must know that you are the one to go there, that you are the one best suited for their healing and renewal.”

Spike puffs out his chest as Cadance beams at him. His arms stretch out, meeting hers in a deep, long hug. His head nestles into the soft fur of her chest, the gold peytral clinking against his scales.

“All aboard!” comes the call from the train to the Crystal Empire.

“I guess that’s it.” Spike gives the pink alicorn another hard squeeze, one she returns with just as much vigor. “The Empire awaits me with open jaws.”

“Don’t let it devour you.” Cadance nuzzles Spike as they release, sighing as he picks up his suitcase and boards the train. He pokes his head out the window, waving. She waves back before turning to Fancy Pants and a few other nobles who have been patiently waiting for her to finish, not that Canterlot’s administrators need a lot of micromanaging.

Next Chapter: Ch. 65 - Emperor's Mastery, Part Two Estimated time remaining: 21 Hours, 36 Minutes