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Champions of Equestria

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Description

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safe2164521 artist:empyu1835 spike92122 dragon84924 g42016743 baby16446 baby dragon4313 bed57358 blanket7469 button eyes243 cute264450 female1791924 implied applespike39 implied flutterspike26 implied pinkiespike23 implied rainbowspike22 implied shipping7093 implied sparity489 implied straight6464 implied twispike125 male547123 pillow25358 plushie30821 rarity plushie235 signature43228 sleeping29251 solo1417588 sparilush9 spikabetes2657 spike gets all the plushies2

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lasty
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition

dead to you
@Gundlach  
Yes.  
Or, alternatively
 
(Spike’s plushie friends spent their nights standing their silent guard over the sleeping dragon, and their days playing whatever games he could think of for them. It was their duty to comfort Spike when the nights were too dark or when his days were too lonesome or too filled with sad memories. Everypony asked him the same thing since that day a month ago. They each had their own version of it, switching out “the princess” or “my sister” when needed, but the basic question was always the same: where is she? They asked often, no matter how many times Spike told them he didn’t know the answer. Occasionally, they would mistake one of the plushies he’d left out for the one they were looking for, since they looked so much like them. Almost exactly like them, except for the blank button eyes and mouths stitched closed. Often, they would say that Spike, who had grown taller since reaching young adulthood but retained his youthful appearance, was too old to play with dolls. Out of frustration, Spike assumed.  
(Though all the plushies were silent at night, Twilight would often shed small tears while her former assistant slept. She was the one who had discovered that horrible lost art, the one who brought it to everyone’s attention. It was all her fault, and she knew in her heart that her friends all blamed her as much as she blamed herself. She hoped that one day, princess Celestia would discover what had happened and set it right, and that her friends could one day learn to forgive. If they were still…“there” enough to be saved.  
(None of that mattered to Spike. His plushies never spoke to him and they didn’t have the same warmth of life they once had. But as long as he could hold them in his bed at night, in a way, he felt like he had his friends with him. They would never leave his side, for the rest of his life.)