Dragon Tales

by Shy-Brony

Mail from a Mauve-Maned Mare

Going through the small mountain of mail that ended in front of the castle every morning had always been a hassle. Gifts and bags of letters usually buried the mailbox every morning, to the point where Spike was considering having it replaced with a chute leading to the throne room. Sorting it was easier since most of it was either words of thanks or ponies begging for her to teach them. After a day of this, it became one of those automatic chores, the kind that can be done without paying attention.

Still, he paid enough attention that he could spot anything out of the ordinary. Like this gray envelope addressed to him. He didn't recognize the return address, or the writing on the letter.

Spike,

This Maud Pie, writing from an excavation site for my rocktorate. I'd like a sample of your scales or teeth for an upcoming project. I promise to pay you.

Huh. He knew Maud, having met her in the quarry during her visit. They didn't talk much beyond introductions, but they did compare their knowledge of rocks and gemstones. Being a gemstone connoisseur, he... well, she schooled him, literally and embarrassingly. She was able to help him find more stones that usual, though, so that made up for it.

Anyway, why in Equestria would she need his scales and teeth to test a rock's hardness? There had to be a better, less creepy way, right? He went to ask Twilight about it.

"Well," she said, "dragon scales are probably one of the hardest substances in the world. If she had one of them, it'd go a long way towards her research."

"And the teeth?" Spike asked.

She shrugged. "A backup? A carving tool? I don't know."

He picked at his teeth. It couldn't hurt, and these teeth were set to fall out soon anyway. The scales were another story, though. "Alright, I'll mail them to her tomorrow."

"You'll be sure to brush them first, right? I'm sure Maud wouldn't want a mouthful of dirty teeth in the mail, no matter how badly she needs them."

He frowned at her. "Hey, I floss!"

---

Spike was right about his teeth. The next morning, he spat a mouthful of them into the bathroom sink, and a familiar tickling sensation filled his mouth. He opened his mouth to yawn, and his new teeth came in. He turned on the faucet and rinsed his mouth and the old teeth, then brushed them, gathered his teeth in his hands, and hurried back to his room.

He dumped the teeth on his desk, grabbed a quill and some paper, then sat down to write.

Dear Maud,

You don't need to pay me. I'd be happy to send you some teeth. But I think I need to ask: what will you use them for? What kind of project needs dragon teeth?

Sincerely,

Spike

---

He was lounging on his throne a week later when the reply came. The envelope was singed at the corners and full of his old teeth, which, context or not, had to be the creepiest thing he'd ever gotten in the mail. Hopefully the letter would clear things up.

Spike,

Thank you, but I only needed ten. You can have the rest back. The project involves discovering the properties of a new kind of volcanic rock, and your teeth will go a long way in discovering its hardness and brittleness, not to mention digging. Feel free to say no to this, but me and my team could really use some dragon scales. As you can imagine, it's very hot here, and our safety manager could use a few to add to our gear so it doesn't overheat.

Maud

He stared at the letter for a long time, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock. A volcano? With lava!? What kind of classes was she taking, anyway!?

A low whistle came from above. It was Rainbow Dash, hovering over his throne and reading over his shoulder. "Geez, this rocktorate thing is hardcore!"

Spike rolled over to face her. "No kidding. I can't believe Pinkie's okay with this."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but Pinkie still gets me sometimes. Maybe she doesn't know." She came down and ruffled his spines. "So, what's the plan? You gonna give her a scale, or what?"

"Not a chance."

"Why not?" Applejack asked, walking into the throne room with Rarity. "You're literally covered in 'em."

"I bet if Rarity asked, she'd be swimming in scales, right?" Rainbow asked.

Rarity gave her one of those flat glares that she'd gotten so good at lately. "For your information, I asked shortly after meeting him. The answer was no."

"Really?"

She sighed. "Yes, really. A shame, since I have so many ideas that revolve around a dragonscale accessory." She turned and batted her eyelashes at him. "Unless...?"

"No," Spike said flatly as he sat up. "It hurts, okay?"

` "So does losing feathers," Rainbow said. "Come on, no pain, no gain, right?"

Spike reached up and felt the bald spot under his right fin. "Yeah, but your feathers grow back in a snap! I gave a scale to Princess Celestia five years ago, and it still hasn't grown back." He crossed his arms. "The answer is no."

Dear Maud,

Sorry, but I can't give you a scale. I still want to hear about your studies, though. Please, keep me posted.

Sincerely,

Spike

---

Spike,

Sure. I'd like another pen pal while I'm out here. Pinkie's letters are usually covered in something sweet, and they don't hold up very well in the heat. I've been using your teeth to line my pickaxe, and I've made much more progress than my classmates. They've gotten envious, and keep asking where I found them. I didn't tell them anything.

We came across an obsidian deposit underground. We were able to gather some, but the shards are a lot sharper than your teeth, so we had to go back to camp and get some bandages. The rest of the shards made good knives. They cut through food like talc. Unfortunately, our camp was flooded with gas, so we need to move.

Don't tell Pinkie. She'll worry too much.

Maud

So, already past greetings. That's good news. The bad, rather, frightening news was the gas leak. After reading the letter, he went to find a book on volcanoes, and, like every time he read about something scary-sounding, he regretted it immediately. Only one of Pinkie's siblings could stand hanging around a toxic, active volcano without complaining.

Dear Maud,

It sounds like these rocktorate classes are really dangerous, but don't worry; I won't tell anyone. I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous about the shards, but I can proudly say I've never sent anypony to the doctor.

On that note, is it safe to use them on your food? I read that obsidian is really brittle. What if it breaks off in the middle of your food? Wouldn't you be better off using it to dig or cut rocks?

One more question: that gas, it's not from a dragon, is it? I don't know if you have any way to check, and I haven't read anything about it, but I think dragon's breath is poisonous. Well, I've been told my breath stinks, and I'm just a baby dragon. An adult's might be mistaken for poison. Either way, stay safe out there!

Spike

---

It was a long time before he heard from Maud again. Well, longer than usual. It made sense, and she could probably take anything that looked at her funny, but he couldn't help but worry, especially if asking about dragons jinxed one into showing up. He fretted for about ten minutes before remembering that Pinkie Pie wrote to her, too, and that Maud didn't want her to worry. She'd have to know something!

With a nod, he left the castle and made a beeline for Sugarcube Corner. The second he stepped through the front door, he was hit in the face with a bowl of... what was it? Cobbler? He tasted it, then licked the rest off of his face. Yeah, peach cobbler.

So the twins were awake. Great.

A peach-covered Pound Cake giggled at him from his high chair as Pumpkin buried her face in her bowl.

"No, Pound!" Pinkie picked up the bowl and put it back on his tray, then ruffled his mane and said, "Great aim, though! You'll be ready for the Ponyville Food Fight in three years, tops!" After giggling with him, she turned to Spike with a smile. "What's up, Spike?"

He smiled back. "Nothing much. Just thinking about how Pound might actually beat me. I'll need to bulk up some before the next Food Fight." He looked at Pound and did that "I'm watching you" gesture.

To his surprise, Pound stopped laughing, narrowed his eyes, and hit his tray twice. Just like that, he had a rival.

Spike cleared his throat and turned back to Pinkie. "Hey, speaking of your crazy strong siblings, have you heard anything from Maud lately?"

She beamed and nodded. "Oh, yeah! We've been pen pals ever since I left the farm!"

"Thought so. See, Maud and I have been writing to each other for a bit and--"

She gasped loud enough to drag everything in the room towards her a bit. "Really!? Why didn't you say so?" She scooped up the twins in her tail, then grabbed Spike by his tail and took them all to her room.

After he and the twins were set down on some beanbags, Pinkie picked up her mattress and tossed it aside, revealing a mountain of envelopes, all the same color.

"I've held on to all of her letters since I left the rock farm!" She grabbed a pile of them and dumped them in front of Spike, then turned back to pitch more his way. "When'd she start writing to you?"

Spike searched through the envelopes, checking the date on each one and reading the letters inside, pausing occasionally to keep Pumpkin from gnawing on them. "Uh, about two months ago. She was asking for some teeth, and it grew from there."

"Oh yeah, she said something about that. I wish I knew you were writing her sooner, though. We could've put your teeth in her care package!"

"That would've been easier." Still no luck, and the twins weren't helping by playing in the pile of unchecked letters and mixing them with the checked ones. He was certain that he read the same ones once or thrice. "Have you heard anything from her lately?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing!" She turned around and shook her head, making another letter fall to the floor. "She usually writes every week, but I haven't gotten anything for... three? She said her camp was moving, but didn't say why."

"R-really?" Spike grimaced, then picked up one of the letters.

Dear Pinkie,

I don't know why, but Cobblestone and Shingle held a contest to see who could dig the deepest. They did this after sitting through five mandatory seminars on why not to, followed by another one after we made camp. They dug into a crevice and got trapped. We had to dig them out. On the plus side, we have extra food now, since they won't be getting any.

Speaking of, do you or the Cakes know how to make custard tarts? Shoal keeps going on and on about them, and I told her that you could out-bake her anytime. We argued about it until work started, and she still bugs me about it whenever she can. I don't pair up with her often, but when I am, it's all she talks about. She's really annoying.

We're moving the camp tomorrow, so you might not hear from me for a bit. Tell the Cakes I said "Hi."

Love,

Maud

He whistled. Maud said she was a writer, but there was a serious difference in the way she wrote to Pinkie. Then again, this was to her sister, so of course she'd be a bit more personal. On the other hoof, she didn't mention the gas, just like she said. Thinking of Maud arguing with somepony was a funny thought, though. Would she just keep droning on, or did her voice get a little higher the more worked up she got? He smirked as he refolded the letter. "Oh well."

"What'cha looking for?" Pinkie asked, appearing over his shoulder.

He put the letter with the others and turned around to face her. "Nothing, really. Hey, do you know how to make sweet tarts?"

Pinkie beamed. "Uh-huh! I just put some crusts in the oven. Well, they're tart-lets. They should be done riiiiight..." She tilted her head towards the stairs, and an egg timer went off a second later. "Now! You wanna help fill them?"

He thought about it for a second. Worrying wouldn't do him any good, and baking with Pinkie was always fun. "Sure!"

She grabbed the twins and they went downstairs and to the kitchen, which was flooded with the smell of freshly baked crust. While Pinkie went through the cabinets, pulling out fruit, sugar, cinnamon, and, of course, cream, Spike shut off the oven, then opened it up and pulled out the pan of empty vanilla tart-lets. He set the pan on the counter and turned back to the oven to close the door.

Another pan, full of chocolate tart-lets, sat right where the last had been. He blinked, then shrugged and grabbed that one placing right next to the first. What were the chances of a third tray being there? One in three? He turned back and frowned at the orange tart-lets sitting there. More peach? It didn't matter. He took that tray, too, and after checking the oven for any more, joined Pinkie in filling the little cups with the toppings.

---

It took an hour and a half, and at the end of it all, the room was covered in frosting, confetti, and a rainbow of syrups. Spike and Pinkie admired their handiwork, looking less like bakers and more like splatter paintings. On the counter sat a mountain of sweet tarts stacked in a crude pyramid that rose to the ceiling.

Spike licked the raspberry jam from his claws. "Looks good, Pinkie. Looks real good."

"Oh, yeah," she said, walking over to the pyramid and taking two tarts from one of the middle layers. The plates they were on clattered, but the pyramid stood strong, if only because it was Pinkie doing it. She gave him one topped with blackberries before tossing her own into the air and catching it in her mouth before going for another.

"So what's with all the tarts, anyway?" Spike asked between bites. "Is it about Maud's letter?"

Her mouth still full of tart, she nodded. She swallowed and said, "I'm going to send these to Maud and her classmates. This way they can stop fighting, and everypony gets a great snack!"

"Okay, but why'd you make so many? I'm pretty sure there aren't that many ponies at the site."

She shoved another one into his hands. "I made so many so we can find the best ones. This is for the pride of the Pie family, after all; only the best will do!"

He stared at her with wide eyes. Looking back, they'd never filled two tarts the same way. "Uh... Pinkie, are we really gonna try... all of these?"

"How else are we supposed to find the best ones?" She snickered. "Silly dragon. Now let's dig in!"

He hesitated, watching with growing amazement as the tarts vanished one by one. He couldn't shake the feeling that at least some of this was an excuse to gorge herself on tarts. He shrugged and grabbed and armful. It wouldn't do any good to just sit there doing nothing.

---

"Spike?"

Spike groaned and opened his eyes. He lay in his bed and stared up at his bedroom ceiling, wondering how and when he got there. His stomach twisted, and he remembered what happened. He'd tried matching Pinkie's pace and, well... that didn't happen. He'd eaten about fifteen in a minute before the aches set in, and Twilight was called to bring him home.

Hoofsteps came in and stopped beside him. "Spike? Are you feeling better?"

Speak of the devil.

Spike rolled over and looked up at Twilight, who sat down by his bed and lifted a spoonful of medicine up to his mouth. He took it, grimacing at the imitation-grape taste, then said, "How long was I out?"

"About two hours. Pinkie says you were helping her with baking. Too much taste testing?"

"Heh, yeah. Future Spike's not too happy about this."

Twilight smiled. "Well, maybe he'd like some good news. Maud sent you a package!"

He blinked and sat up. "Really? When?"

"While you were out. I'll go get it for you." She left and came back with a box around his size. She set it down next to him, and he grabbed the envelope taped to the top.

Spike,

You were right about the source of the "poison." It turned out to be an old dragon trying to find what he thought were intruders looking for his hoard. He threatened to eat us unless we told him something new. I told him about what happened at the Gala. He let us go, but he told us to leave the volcano. We've been moving everything back to campus for the past few weeks.

Before we left, I grabbed a bit of emerald from earlier. I hadn't repaid you for your teeth, so I mailed it out once it was ready. It's not a lot, but I hope it's enough.

We'll be busy deciding where to go next, so my studies are done for a while. It was fun writing to you, though. I'll be sure to write you again when they restart.

Maud

"That's sweet of her," Twilight said, having walked behind him to read over his shoulder. "You like emeralds, right?"

"Yeah..." Spike could've sworn he said he didn't need any pay for those. He climbed out of bed with a sigh and tore the box apart, then grabbed the huge, egg-shaped rock that was inside. As he lifted it up, it split down the middle, with one half lined with amethysts, and the other lined with emeralds.

"Whoa," Twilight said.

"No kidding," Spike said, looking at each half with wide eyes. He'd seen things like this at gift shops, but this one --these-- seemed different. The outside was rougher, and the insides still held ashes in their crevices. "Did Maud make this?"

"Seems like it," Twilight said. "You're not going to eat those, are you?"

He gave her a look and walked over to his desk. "Give me some credit, Twilight. I'm not going to eat a gift." He placed the halves on top, facing each other, then stepped back to admire them. They looked good, sitting where he'd see them every morning. With a satisfied nod, he grabbed an inkwell and some paper and began to write.

Dear Maud,

I love the gift, but I don't think my teeth are worth all that effort. I won't stop you, but I'm up to my neck in teeth most weeks; they're a dime a dozen. If you really want, I won't stop you, but don't wear yourself out.

Also, just because your studies are done for now doesn't mean we can't still write. I know what I said earlier, but we're friends; you can write me about anything you want.

One last thing: I hope you told Pinkie that you went back to campus. I don't know how old dragons feel about mountains of sweet tarts sent to their lairs.

Your Friend,

Spike