The cavernous throne room Spike once presided over had vanished. In its place was a throng of yaks and dragons that reached from one wall to the other and from the front doors to the dais. The only break in the shifting sea of dancing, singing, and carousing bodies was a pair of long banquet tables that nearly split the room in two. Even now, several hours into the party, food remained in ample supply. Everything from hay to fried vegetables to a ruby cake was up for grabs at one of the two tables, and grab he had.
Spike leaned against the throne’s back and patted his bulging stomach. Sitting up here, overseeing the party instead of getting lost in it, felt more lordly and important than babysitting the empty palace ever could, scepter or no scepter. Best of all, he still wasn’t doing it alone. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Rarity, that was some amazing negotiating.”
Rarity, who’d been seated next to him for the entirety of the party, touched a napkin to her lips and gave a long, contented sigh. “Thank you, Spikey-Wikey. I must say I had my doubts about my plan working; chivalry should always come before conflict, but… well… finding two ounces of chivalry in that crowd might take a very, very long time.”
He followed her gaze to the party taking place before them, where dragons and yaks were brushing past each other like grinding stones in a wheat mill. “Yeah. I’m glad we’re way up here. And I’m glad I stuck the spicy stuff the yaks brought way over by the water; we don’t need any more fire-breathing accidents.”
“Indeed, indeed. Thank you for keeping your ‘demonstration of friendship’ easy to remedy with a pair of scissors.”
He took a long, slow look at her, from the now-clipped tip of her tail, to her brushed coat, to her styled mane. All traces of their high speed flight and dusty landing were gone. He opened his mouth and quickly closed it again. There wasn’t much of anything left to say, not since he’d blurted out his deepest feelings and gotten a ‘maybe’ in response. “So…”
“Thank you for being so understanding and patient.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off the crowd.
“Huh?”
“You’re thinking about our conversation from this morning, aren’t you?”
His gaze dropped to the collection of dirtied plates at his feet. “Yeah.”
“I don’t have an answer for you. Even if we’d spent the entire day sitting here idly like we originally planned, I still wouldn’t.”
“That’s… okay. I won’t ask about it anymore.”
She patted his shoulder and spoke with a touch of sadness. “I’m sorry, Spikey. I hope you know I’m not doing this to be cruel.”
He reached up and touched her hoof just before it left his shoulder. “I know, I really do. A-and I’m still glad we talked and everything. It kind of made today work. If we hadn’t opened up so much, I don’t think I would’ve believed you really wanted me to set your tail on fire.”
“ ‘Want’ is too strong a word for that, but ‘need’ might do. The important thing is that the yaks are going home tomorrow morning, and so are we.”
Spike twisted himself from side to side, eliciting a few pops from his spine. Hefting Rarity’s luggage wouldn't be so bad since she'd used up so much yarn on Ember’s robe. “I’m gonna go get one more piece of that ruby cake. Do you want anything?”
Rarity’s plate collection arranged itself into a neat stack. “Mmm, perhaps I’ll go find the rest of those roasted chestnuts. Some of the yak food really isn’t so bad.”
“As long as you’ve got enough water, I guess. Want me to get you some?”
“That’s quite all right. I’ll meet you back here?”
“Sounds great.”
Spike hopped off the throne shortly before Rarity did the same. With a plate tucked under his arm, he approached the constantly-moving wall of partygoers. He dodged left and right, stepping over dragon tails, under yak beards, and past more sites of spilled food and drink than he cared to count. A minute later, the edge of the nearest banquet table came into view. He slipped between the table legs and ran underneath. Claws and hooves thundered on either side of his private highway, and the occasional spiked tail obstructed it. Still he ran, plate in hand, for the far end of the table and the enormous cake waiting on top of it. It didn’t matter that he was already full; dessert didn’t count towards a full stomach, at least that was his working theory, one he couldn’t prove without some more experimentation.
He rose above the table’s edge, right next to the cake. He set his plate next to it and grabbed the serving knife. A thin but gem-heavy slice plopped onto his plate, along with an extra helping of the garnish gems for good measure. No sooner had he put the knife down than someone slammed into his back, knocking him against the table and nearly sending his precious cake flying. Spike glared at the offending dragon tail and ducked back under the table, sugary cargo in hand.
“You know,” he said to the cake slice, “there’s no way you’re gonna survive the trip back to the throne. Might as well just eat here.”
He took a great sniff of the mineral-heavy frosting and leaned in for a bite.
“H-hey, Rarity!” Ember shouted.
Spike paused mid-bite. He looked up and saw Ember from the knees down, her robe trailing behind her as she navigated the crowd.
Rarity appeared next, everything above her cutie mark hidden by the table’s edge. “Good evening, Princess Ember. Thank you again for allowing Spike and I to use your throne for the party.”
“Uh, sure. I can’t blame you for wanting to keep your distance; my tail’s been stepped on more times than… Anyway, could I… uh… talk to you about something private? It’s not like anyone’s going to hear us here.”
“Of course, darling.”
Spike froze, frosting still on his lips.
Ember scuffed her feet on the floor. “Why does Spike pal around with you ponies so much? When I asked him to be my steward while I traveled, I didn’t think he’d bring a pony along.”
“My being a pony has nothing to do with it. Spike and I have been dear friends for years, and when he told me how he was going to be sitting in an empty palace with nothing to do for days on end, I gladly accepted his invitation to keep him company. Based on your encounter with the Yaks, surely you can see that one’s outer appearance has little to do with what’s on the inside.”
“Yeah, well that’s not going to do him any favors if he ever decides to live with his own kind. That’s actually why I wanted to talk with you. I really want to ask Spike to stick around, maybe even move into the palace… but I can’t figure out how to say it.”
Rarity took a step back. “Excuse me? I fail to see why Spike would ever leave his home in Ponyville, nor would I want him to!”
Ember stepped closer. “Look, Rarity. I get that you’re friends and all, but Spike’s not a pony. He’s a dragon at an age where he can do and be whatever he wants; he wouldn’t have been summoned to make a challenge for the scepter if he wasn’t. And even without that,” she leaned in, the downward-facing tips of her horns coming into Spike’s view, “I can smell it on him: brains, maturity, opportunity… He could have stuff here that he’s never going to with ponies. If he got himself a hoard of treasure he wouldn’t be so small, and once the other dragons see how great the dragon lord treats him, he might even get over his… other problem.”
Spike gulped. Gems slid around his plate as his hands shook. What could possibly be wrong with him?
Rarity’s voice lost its amicable tone. “Princess Ember, I assure you Spike is very much interested in staying among his pony friends, and I can’t imagine what ‘problem’ you’re referring to. Spike is a dragon, yes, but that has no bearing on his living happily and comfortably in Ponyville. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
Ember’s feet twisted and her claws scraped against the floor. “Ugh, I guess you wouldn’t understand… Look, Spike’s a dragon, but… right now he’s not much of a dragon. Everybody knows he’s poor and weak since he’s so small. That part’s easy enough to fix, but he… he doesn’t have any wings. He’s from the lowest of the social classes, the kind that some dragons think are a complete waste of space. Sure that might not matter while he’s living around ponies, but how long is he going to put up with not having one of those magical marks that you all have, or being smaller than everyone? I’m learning to look past this kind of stuff, but other dragons? I could really help Spike out if he’d stick around, and… and he could really help me, too. Ruling a whole kingdom is harder than I thought… it wouldn’t be so bad with him next to me.”
Rarity’s forelegs left the ground, no doubt putting her and Ember at eye level. Her voice sliced the air like a knife. “You, Princess, clearly have a lot to learn about Spike, and about friendship in general! Goodnight!”
As Rarity turned and trotted away, Spike stared down at his plate. The small mountain of baked gems he’d amassed looked about as appetizing as a pile of dirt. His stomach rumbled angrily, as if to promise him a world of regret should he eat one more bite. He set the plate down and started walking, each footfall tugging at his increasingly vocal stomach. He felt as if he’d swallowed a bowling ball dipped in hot sauce.
He ran a hand down his wingless back as he traversed the underside of the table. His pace quickened as Ember’s words nipped at his heels and tore at his heart. How could her saying ‘not much of a dragon’ hurt so much? How could that undercut everything he’d told Rarity about himself just that morning? Was it because another dragon was saying it, a dragon that was supposed to be his friend?
Soon the still-vacant throne was behind him, as were the wild sounds of the party. Slurred yak songs and dragon laughter echoed up and down the hallway as he left the enormous throne room, on his way to the guest chamber Ember had prepared for him. All she’d really done is have it dusted. His own reflection stared up at him from the polished marble floor, perfectly fitting Ember’s description: a little wingless runt, incapable of being a real dragon or a real pony.
“But that’s not true,” he whispered to his reflection, “right?”
Only bad memories answered him.
His sleeping bag interrupted his downward-facing view, one of the two objects in the otherwise empty room, the other being Rarity’s gargantuan camping tent. A real dragon wouldn’t need either; that had to be why this guest room was just an empty expanse of marble, like a miniature version of the throne room, right down to the same slitted windows that admitted a tiny fraction of the sun or moon’s light.
His sleeping bag felt warm once he crawled into it. Not as warm as his bed at home, or as soft. Still, it would do for the night. Tomorrow they’d go home just like Rarity said. He’d even have one more day with her all to himself, even if it involved a bunch of luggage piled on his back.
“Spikey, are you in here?”
Spike cringed and hid his face in his blanket. He hadn’t even heard the clip-clop of her hooves over the distant sound of the party.
“Ah, there you are,” she was closer now, a few paces shy of standing over his sleeping bag, “I was getting worried when you didn’t come back to the throne.”
Spike steadied his voice. “Oh, y-yeah. I just felt really tired all of the sudden, a-and we’re walking home tomorrow and everything…”
“I suppose it is getting rather late, and without you for company I’d just as soon have nothing to do with that self-serving, tasteless excuse for a dra—err, party.”
Spike gave a small nod. “O-okay. Um… goodnight, Rarity.”
“Goodnight, Spikey.”
Tears filled his eyes as her hoofsteps retreated. “R-Rarity?”
“Hmm? Is something wrong?”
Everything was wrong, all except for her. “Why… why are you such a good friend to me when I'm… Why didn't you just tell me no this morning?”
For several seconds, silence was the only answer. At last she came to the edge of his sleeping bag. “I presume you overheard my conversation with Ember?”
“I-I didn’t mean to! I just—”
He could almost hear her eyes rolling. “Pay her no mind, Spike. She clearly doesn’t know the real you, no matter how badly she might want to.”
“B-but… Can I tell you another secret?”
“Need you even ask?”
He took a deep breath, knowing he’d need it. “The stuff she said… I-I kind of worry about it… a lot. Anybody can cook, or clean, or take notes, but that’s all I’m good at… and who wants that stuff for a cutie mark anyway?”
“Spike—”
“I’m just this short, little… thing. I’m not really a dragon, and I’m not a pony either. I can’t ever be the big, strong hero I want to be. I try not to think about that much, but… when somebody else says it…”
Her hoof rested against his sleeping bag, pressing on his back. “Stop that thinking this instant, darling. Ember merely sees Spike the dragon, not Spike the kind, Spike the thoughtful, and certainly not Spike the brave and glorious.”
“I'm still Spike the dragon, too… the tiny, wingless dragon…”
Her hoof left him. “Wait right there. If telling you the truth isn’t working, I’ll simply have to show you.”
He heard her hoofsteps echo into the distance, presumably towards her tent. She’d sounded strangely matter-of-fact, and yet he had no idea what she was planning.
Her hoofsteps returned, but her hoof on his back didn’t. Instead, the sheet rose from his face, revealing a hovering makeup pen.
“Hold still, Spike.”
“What’re you—”
And then the pen went to work, nearly making him laugh as it tickled his cheek, his forehead, and his nose. Just when he couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, the pen stopped. He took a deep breath and sat up to face his attacker. “What was tha—”
Instead of Rarity, he saw his reflection in a mirror. His face was now decorated with miniature versions of all his friend’s cutie marks, including Rarity’s and Twilight’s on his temples.
Rarity stepped to the side of the mirror, her smile earnest. “You, my dear dragon, are in no need of a cutie mark, because your special talent couldn’t be more obvious to every pony you know. No matter what any of us needs, you’re there. No matter if it’s saving Equestria for the umpteenth time, shelving library books, or sending letters to faraway ponies, you’re there. You’re always there when we need you, because your special talent is helping others succeed with their own.”
Before he could so much as gasp, she set the mirror aside and hugged him. “Just remember what you told me this morning. You’re simply Spike, and that’s plenty. You needn’t be any more or less than that.”
Spike didn’t know what to say. He returned the hug instead, holding onto her as strongly as he dared, hypnotized by the regular thumping of the heartbeat traveling through her chest to his ear. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind a few stray tears wetting her coat. “Th-thanks. Thanks so much, Rarity. I’ll carry all the luggage tomorrow when we leave. I’d carry it and you for a thousand miles!”
She giggled. “Carrying a portion of it to the nearest train station will be quite enough.”
The question surged through him, the question he said he wouldn’t ask again. He’d never felt closer to her in any sense. If only she felt the same. If only she’d say yes. If only he could pour his heart out now as easily he had that morning.
Instead her forelegs withdrew and the rest of her followed, save for her radiant smile. “Goodnight, Spikey-Wikey.”
He nodded, disappointed and elated all at once. She was five paces away before he found his voice. “Goodnight, Rarity. I… I couldn’t do this without you… I wouldn’t want to, either!”
She froze for a moment, and then quickened her pace. “Goodnight.”
His attack and speed have both been boosted by one stage!
Oh dash it all! Wut?
orig06.deviantart.net/2489/f/2016/286/c/9/smoochie_by_hillbe-dakxn99.jpg
!
Oh dear Spikey what have I done?
He flew with no wings!
A Blimpy Spikey
lmao a blimp spike
I'd be surprised if there wasn't more than one way for a dragon to grow. Even if, historically, it always tends one direction. Do it, tiny dragon guy!
I hope this turns into Sparity...at least, I think that's what the romance tag is for, unless it becomes Spike/Ember. I like them, too, but not as much as Sparity. I think Spike will eventually grow with age, hoard or no hoard. After a thousand years or so, still looking like a hatchling would be absurd. He doesn't need wings either. Maybe he's like a western dragon, and will eventually gain MAGIC instead of wings, being able to fly with magic like Starlight Glimmer, instead of with wings like most dragons.
7825853
Soon
7825861 aw, couldn't you have spoiler this? I was honestly hoping she'd say no, and they'd just remain friends. Not for the tragedy of it but for the "growing up" characterization theyd get from it. Just my two bits. Still enjoy it.
7825657 do you draw these yourself!? Love all the ones I've seen!
Blaze, are you threatening us with a potential love triangle? Or are my shipping goggles just on too tight.
Regardless, this chapter was also full of feels and adorable. Glad to see that the diplomatic incident got smoothed over rather than blossoming out into a full-scale war, too.
7825853 You mean an Eastern dragon. Westerns are the big, winged Smaugish brutes.
Easterns are the wingless, serpentine, wise and mystical sorts with all manner of powers and divine connections.
7825993
Edited. I figured the answer was obvious from the character tags, description, and cover art alone. I also wouldn't call a 'just friends' ending not Sparity... Spike and Rarity's romantic future (or lack thereof) is the question this story is working to answer
When you say the cover art was designed by Novel Idea, what did you mean? How was he able to design it, but not draw it?
7825994 Eeyep
I'm a hopeless romantic with these two characters
NOooooooooooooooooo!
http://www.fimfiction.net/story/353698/can-you-fetch-me-the
Oh my!
img02.deviantart.net/c4f5/i/2016/238/8/2/dog_pile_on_daddy_by_hillbe-dafe836.jpg
the future has yet to be written
My figure!
7825639 Gorram it, ya beat me to it.
I even have a Dragonite I nicknamed Spike with Dragon Dance.
I notice a certain rivalry betwen Ember and Rarity over Spike here, with neither willing to fully express themselves, each for good reasons.
I'm disappointed that the story appears to be shutting down the idea that maybe Spike would benefit from growing as a person. Spike chronically lacks will of his own. Most of everything he does that is praised is either explicit orders from others or what he believes others would want him to do or what is best for them.
Compare this to Rarity who is the element of giving... and doesn't deny her will at all to be giving. She gives out of a generous spirit who feels compelled to share the beauty she sees in her head. She doesn't have to deny herself in order to be generous.
In fact, none of the girls have to deny their passions to help otherside. They do normal daily compromises, but not more extreme than that.
Spike does deny himself, though. Whenever he wants something for himself he is portrayed as selfish and irresponsible. He doesn't love taking notes or organizing books but he spends most of his life doing that because Twilight wants him to.
And in this chapter, Rarity just encourages that attitude and discourages Spike looking at himself critically, even if Ember's ideas for him are marked by the idea that he must be dragonish to be respectable.
There must be a medium between the two.
Maybe there will be more on the conflict though.
7826017 Yeah, sorry. I had a brain fart! I meant the beautiful, wingless chinese dragons that fly via magic.
7827396
Maybe what Spike loves is being of service to those he loves. This is how he relates to Twilight Sparkle and Rarity, and this is probably how he would relate to Ember if he fell in love with her.
7828067
He wants to be a hero.
I don't think that's not in line with the idea that Spike loves to help others, actually. He clearly does. Even being a hero of strength and size he would be helping others.
But what's the difference between being a big, strong hero... and what Spike has mostly been doing as Twilight's assistant?
The difference, as I indicated before, is will.
Heroes are willful. They see something about the world they can improve and they do it. Even reactionary superheroes who only defend the world from supervillains when they attack aren't doing it because someone told them to (okay, so, some are. They have a myriad of desires and reasons, but generally the ones that are more fettered and dutiful are portrayed as more flawed than paragons) they are doing it to make a world they want to be in more on their own. And Spike could even just be a mundane hero, not someone who is "big and strong" but someone who helps with words, with knowledge, with insight, by connecting others or being persuasive. (Although he'd only be relegated to only if he never actually grew as a dragon.)
Spike has already shown some of this willfullness. Ember was referring to it when she talked about his potential, because he refused to not be her friend when he felt she had the potential to become his friend.
But Spike's relationship as Twilight's Assistant doesn't resemble that. Fetching books even though he doesn't really like it, listening to lectures when he is not interested in them, taking notes even though he's not a person who's excited by organization... these are not expressions of passion, of will, of strength, but of weakness, and, at it's worst, obsequiousness.
I don't want Spike to become a selfish something or another, or leave his friends (although I can accept the latter if he determines he wants to grow by doing that.) But I do want Spike to grow on his own. To become willful and passionate. To learn and grow as a person, so that he can use his own judgement and insight rather than relying on someone else's commands.
Am I the only one who feels that Ember kinda has a point? I mean, the mane six have achieved quite a lot in life, but if you look at Spike, what does he have in the town he lives in? What's he doing with his life that he wasn't doing there when he first arrived with Twilight, apart from cleaning up a bigger place? Is that really his calling in life, to keep picking up after Twilight?
It doesn't really help that it seems like Rarity is making Spike's decision to stay in Ponyville for him. I get it. It's his home, but sometimes people need to get away from home or they'll never discover what to do with themself. And that's something Spike really needs to find out, and something that Rarity has no right to take from him.
7835682 Let's see... what has Spike done...?
Saved the Crystal Empire Twice, traveled through time, befriended a god of chaos, raised by the goddess of the sun, Personal Assistant to the Princess of Friendship, obtained the blood stone sceptre of the Dragon Lord, saved countless ponies from a frozen doomcloud, opened the Equestria games, gone to an alternate universe multiple times, Friends with the current dragon lord, fought off changelings, hatched a phoenix...
what an utterly mundane life!!
He should just quit!
Everyone seems to forget how young Spike is. IMO, the 1st Rainboom (in Cutie Mark Chronicles) occurred 10-12 years before the pilot. This makes Spike 12-14years old at this time. IRL, Joan of Arc was just getting started at 14 & anyone else I can think of was years older. This ignores the fact that, given Dragon lifespan, Spike is younger than the Cake twins. Twilight calls him a baby Dragon & she is absolutely right.
That being said, I agree with MidnightFMare. For his age, he has accomplished a lot. His problem is, he hangs out with some of the greatest heroes in EQ & he compares himself to them. He should be comparing himself to, for example, The Cutie Mark Crusaders.
as soon *
Ah hem, I believe "Future Spike" has something to say on the matter. /comicbookguy
Sadly for him, this seeps through into the show in the unfortunate form of him being one of the best supporting characters, and the writers rarely giving him a good episode as the focal point. :-(
I felt bad for Spike. Nice to see Rarity remind him of his worth.