The unicorn banker watched the display with detached professionalism. It was not uncommon to see a dragon disgorge its entire horde in a gout of gold, gems, and the occasional sentimental knickknack.

Beating his chest a few times, the dragon burped up a single coin, which unerringly took an interception path with the moneymare’s forehead. Two hands that could crush boulders flew up to his mouth at the sight of the new griffon head-shaped imprint. “Err, sorry,” he said in a voice far smaller than expected of a Greater Dragon.

The cream- (and now gold-) colored pony adjusted her glasses. “It is quite fine, Your Highness. I shall wear this bruise like a badge of honour,” she replied with a monotone that could put an insomniac to sleep within the time it took to detail one stock portfolio. “Just sign here and our business will be concluded.”

“Be extra careful with that fire ruby,” he said before taking the proffered scroll and, with deftness that belied his monstrous claws, signed it.

Spike

The transformation via transfer of wealth was immediate. Within moments he had shrunken to a tenth of his size, ending at a merely impressive ten feet of height.

“Now maybe you’ll be able to fit through the doors, King Spike,” said a familiar voice behind him.

Spike turned around, a smile composed of razor-sharp teeth and all the warmth of a nice lava pool perched on his face. “Hah! Hello to you, too, Princess Twilight,” he boomed. Spike patted his stomach. “You wouldn’t be implying I’m fat, would you?”

The alicorn flew up and planted a delicate kiss on one of Spike’s cheek scales. “Of course not. I’m just wondering if ‘Future Spike’ is being left to deal with you eating too many treasuries at once again.”

“That only happened once. Besides, it’s your fault for leaving the vault unlocked,” he said, his accusation weakened by an embarrassed chuckle.

The pair turned to leave the bank.

“I still find calling you ‘King’ to feel strange, Spike,” Twilight commented as they travelled through Canterlot Castle’s cavernous halls.

“I could say the same about you being ‘Princess’.” He grinned. “Strange to know my title technically puts me above you, Twilight.”

“No number of titles will save your king from my princess in chess, though,” Twilight quipped as they turned into her private study.

Spike sent the innocent board of wood and its assembled figures a burning glare, accented by a puff of fire. “It’s a queen, and one of these days, Twilight, one of these days...”

She laughed. “It’s not like we don’t have all the time in the world to work on how to make proper use of your knights.”

Another grunt escaped him; Spike had long ago learned why dragons weren’t particular towards knights. With lizardy wisdom, he chose to pursue the first part of Twilight’s reply instead. “A lot of time, yes, but not all the time...” he said slowly. “Otherwise, well, we wouldn’t be doing this again, would we?”

The smile on Twilight’s face fled. “...Yes, of course.” She gave the dragon a half-hearted poke with a hoof. “And there we were, almost having fun.”

Spike picked up a quill and roll of parchment. “We can do ‘fun’ afterwards. Better than before, so it isn’t soured by what comes after.”

An inkwell, surrounded by a purple glow, flew over to the dragon. “Never thought I’d see the day when you would be telling me to stop playing around. Guess there’s a lot of time for that now.”

The tapping of Spike’s quill against the side of the inkwell filled the quietude. “Yeah, lots of time.”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Dear Applejack...” she said as Spike began to inscribe her dictations.

And so it went. Strong for Applejack, soft with Fluttershy, playful when it was Pinkie’s, fast like Rainbow. Twilight slowed down for Rarity, to let Spike’s erratic scratchings keep up. Luna’s was delicate and deep, much like the heavens she cared for.

Celestia’s page remained empty for a long time as Spike and Twilight stared at its expanse. Finally, she filled it with the same message she had for the past hundred years.

Dear Princess Celestia:

I miss you.

Your faithful student and friend, Twilight Sparkle

Twilight and Spike watched in silence as the wind carried the last of the emerald sparks away. Spike, as always, broke the silence first.

“I’m going to beat you this time.”

Twilight allowed herself to smile. “My princess says otherwise.”