Prologue

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Vex's back didn't just ache. Oh no. His whole body was on fire. Sleeping in a full set of chainmail armor might have been a bad move on the chubby dragon's part, even with all his fat as cushioning. But it'd all be worth it one day.

"Take it off," they'd told him time and again. "You look like a can opener!"

Every once in a while, they'd even put his armor through a good stress test. With him in it.

What they didn't know, however, was how soon it would be. Sure, his skin was probably beet red by now, and he'd only gotten about two hours of sleep, and his helmet was cooking his brain from the inside out, but any day now, Vex would be swimming in gems. And laying next to him, a whole pack of dragonesses would fight just to touch him, even though he'd like all of them equally. Every dragon from that day forward would try to keep up with the trend he'd started.

It'd been about a day since Princess Ember's official coronation ceremony. The reception had been about as exciting as eating a pile of sand for dinner. There was no fire, no music, and hardly even any fighting. It was the closest that a fire-breathing dragon could possibly get to acting 'formal', whatever that meant. Vex knew parties, and that only filled out the technical definition: A bunch of dragons getting together for gems, dancing, games like fire chess, and 'guess that species,' and on and on, for hours and hours. And they'd suffered through it together.

"Hey, dork! The gauntlet's over already!" A scrawny, straw-haired purple dragon flew past, not knowing what he was missing.

He never thought it'd be this nice to get the old gang back together, at any rate.

Now, though, it was time to fly back to their own corners of the earth. Once they'd left this rocky hellscape, who knew when, or indeed if, they'd run into each other again?

"What the--? Get offa me!"

A crisp smack from over yonder made the tin can stop in his tracks.

Garble, a shell of his former self, walked past with a sloppy, claw-shaped bruise on his cheek, and dark circles around his eyes. From behind, a blue, fishtoothed dragon over four times his size lumbered behind him with his puny arms outstretched. Garble strolled a little faster, and he picked up the pace, absolutely smitten. Rinse and repeat, until finally...

"Leave me alone already!" he erupted. "Don't you get it!? I don't like you! No one here likes you!! And no, you can't be my 'dragon-tine!!' So get! Lost!!"

Everyone glanced up at the commotion.

The gnasher teared up, lip quavering. He flew away wailing, tears gushing from his eyes like a busted faucet. Garble picked up and snacked on the bouquet of rubies that had been dropped, when he almost crashed into Fizzle.

"Oh, come on!" he threw up his arms, and like a chore, pulled the bruiser into yet another hug.

Fizzle stood on end, shivering furiously at the sudden contact. His face, normally a pure albino white, reddened by at least five shades. His heart beat harder and harder, like a ticking time bomb, ready to burst at any second.

He hadn't been hugged all that tightly, but when it broke, he sucked in a gasp of air all the same, finally realizing he needed to breathe. He wouldn't move, or emote, or even blink, for a good couple of minutes.

Vex couldn't help but giggle at their expense. Maybe Spike was onto something after all.

And then Garble locked eyes, and moved on to his next assignment.

"Aaah, aren't you gonna take me out first?" It was no use. There was no escape from the huggle monster.

This hug, though, lasted quite a bit longer. Time wasn't slowing down for either of them. Garble actually was hugging him far longer than anyone else. When Vex started to struggle, the hug started to grow claws, making his shirt pinch in over a thousand different places.

Ow, ow! pain! Again with the pain!

"You know," Garble muttered, the heat in his throat building up, "he's gonna pay oh so handsomely for this."

He didn't need to say who.

Vex looked back at a recomposed Fizzle, and Fizzle looked at Spear and Baff, while Clump switched looks between the other five.

They'd each only known Spike for a total of ten hours over four years. He wasn't even sure he'd learned their names. For most of those ten hours, they'd gone along with what Garble said: Spike was some pretty little backwater shrimp, raised by a bunch of namby-pamby little ponies. That was that, end of the line, do not pass go.

And who ended up getting that scepter anyway?

Not Garble, that's for sure.

The little newt easily could've gone to Torch and turned the dragonlands into one big friendfest by just saying the word. He could even have called for a National Tickle-Fight Day if the thought crossed him. Instead, though, all he did was tell Garble to go on the clingiest pilgrimage ever endured. And then he just gave it all up. All that power, all that wealth, all for his "namby-pamby" little friends back home.

That was strength if they'd ever seen it.

One by one, each of the one-time packmates pulled a knowing smile as they all came to the same conclusion. If Dragon Lord Ember got to have all those bells and whistles thrown at her, why'd Dragon Lord Spike have to miss out?

Oh yes, they nodded. Spike was gonna get everything that was coming to him.

Not the Face!

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The crystal halls were just as massive as they'd always been. Smooth, glassy pillars stood guard between the wooden doors, which led both everywhere and nowhere to the uninitiated. A baby dragon could just barely be seen walking down the long carpets, with an equally-long train of parchment paper behind him. Every year, it seemed, Twilight was becoming more and more obsessed with books and lists, even after the little mess with Starlight and Sunburst.

In fact, this had always been how she did her morning routine, especially when she was away on business. It meant all the more work for the young ex-dragon lord, but it wasn't anything he hadn't lived through before.

"Take out trash, check."

Twilight wouldn't find a spot when she came back from Canterlot with Ember.

"Organize bathroom labels, check."

Cleanliness was next to Princess-liness, after all.

"Make breakfast..."

That was where he'd hit a snag. They were out of waffle or pancake mix, and it'd be another week before Rarity gave him some gems to snack on. Anything even remotely edible was gone, to be replaced by wheat bran, hay, prunes...

*gurgle*

And then there's that little problem. Spike stared temptedly at the walls and the ceiling, then shook that sirens' song out of his head. No. Never again.

Luckily, the list had the answer to all of his woes.

In the event that we're out of a staple ingredient, such as sugar, wheat, or milk, go shopping for more. If it's not that important, do without, refer to weekly breakfast budget for further information...

Okay, maybe this was getting a little out of claw. Just a little.

He knew for a fact that Power Ponies Frosted Marshmallow Sugar Flakes™ were a staple of any nutritious, balanced breakfast! Plus, as he'd once pointed out, they were, in fact, made of sugar, wheat, and milk, in that order.

He shuffled to the bottom of the list, and, reading up to the appropriate subsection, scribbled in the corner:

Discuss amount of scheduling, potten potentt possibly reduce by half.

Finally rolling up the scroll, and with his wallet in tow, he made it halfway over to scenic Ponyville, only to stop dead in his tracks.

For what felt like the third time this year, Ponyville was falling apart. Windows were broken, ponies everywhere were running in a frenzied panic, and a few pillars of smoke could even be seen billowing up from afar. Spike barely managed to stop a panicking Bulk Biceps from trampling him into paste.

Spike dusted himself off, facepalmed, and sighed. Of course! Second Saturday of the month. Starlight and the others should be taking care of things any second now.

But then he saw a new plume rise up. If there was smoke, there was fire. If there was fire, that meant...

Right on cue, he saw what was up. Half a dozen teenage dragons marched down Ponyville Main Street, having their own brand of fun.

He recognized one in particular, as the red dragon took a cart and threw it over with reckless abandon. He set it ablaze, and all the fruit burned to a crisp as his lackeys all laughed and cheered on. One of the larger dragons rifled through the new firepit, while a grey, ramhorned one turned around, making a frame with his fingers to take the tree-castle in. "Oh yeah, definitely worth the trip!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Spike staring, and pointed. "Hey, there he is! Over there!"

Spike paled, debating whether to run away or stand his ground.

No. He wasn't scared of these clowns anymore. Spike crossed his arms, and looked around as Garble's old lackeys from the migration jogged up to the scene at their own pace.

Yep, the Mane Six Plus One should be coming by any second now.

"So, what happened to, 'Dragons don't do helping?"

Garble, Spike's best friend forever and after, plucked him up by the tail, letting him dangle around like an old toy fished out of the water.

"It's called a 'pack', loser." he said as said mooks circled him with wide-eyed grins on their faces. "Try getting your own sometime."

Just his tone, murderously calm, was almost enough to send tingles up the baby's spine.

Aaany second now!

With his other claw, he turned Spike around to glare daggers at him. "Thought you were gonna get away like that, huh? Dragon Lord?"

Garble looked at his talons, inspecting them like a set of switchblades, but stopped short as Spike and gang alike gave him a knowing leer. Spike drew out his arms.

"Ugh," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Alright, fine..." Resigned, he drew Spike into a tender, loving hug, the likes of which only a mother could give her filly after a bad day. Spike's return hug only made him mutter curses under his breath as he glowed even redder than usual, and not from being summoned this time.

His pack around him lost it right then and there. Some of them blushed with him, some pounded their fists laughing, and one of them even "D'awww"ed.

"T-There! You see what I gotta deal with now?"

Not wasting anymore time, he snapped back into character, flicking his claw out once more with an angry grin. "Let's try this again," he hurried, redoubling his grip on the hapless whelp.

...Girls?

Now, Spike was getting a bit worried. The others leaned in ever closer, with jovial grins of their own, aching to get the fun started. And not a feather nor a hoof was rushing to the rescue.

"Hi there, Princess Sparkle Puff," he spelled out, "My name is Garb--"

"Get your slimy claws off of him!" A cloud vaporized from above, showing a rainbow trail growing larger and larger. From either side of the boulevard, Starlight, Applejack, and Rarity came out of the woodworks.

"Urgh, what now!?"

There we go. Spike swung forth and chomped Garble on the nose, scurrying back as soon as he'd been dropped. Rainbow Dash followed with a power-punch to the nose, as Starlight, flying by her own magic, scooped him up like a lost cub.

"Are you okay, Spike? Did we take too long?" She fussed over him motherly. Only a few marks. They were just in time.

Starlight yelped and dropped him, as a stream of spittle ducked under her, making her lose focus and crash. She caught where the spray had landed, and watched, mouth agape, as it ate right through the pavement.

"Hey, get your own, Baff!" shouted Garble, shoving the grey, acidic dragon to the side. Applejack and Rarity were up next. The cattle herder took out a lasso and slowed him down, while Rarity finally put her stun-bolt lessons to work. In a few seconds, Garble fell down for a bit, struggling, though he still had that smirk on him. His eyes darted from pony to pony.

"Say, aren't you trying to rescue him?"

That stopped them dead in their tracks. To their horror, all the other dragons had Spike cornered. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Starlight and Rarity were too late, and too far off, to come to his rescue this time.

"Spikey Wikey!"

"Three cheers for our new dragon lord!!" In the blink of an eye, the others had all but dogpiled Spike, and joyously tossed the baby up in the air. Any fear Spike had for his life was flushed right out. "Wait, wha--"

"--Wait," the ponies chanted in unison, "wha--"

"--Wait, what!?" Garble was cut off by said cheers.

"Hip hip!" They all threw out a deafening roar, forcing both dragons and ponies to cover their ears.

"Hip hip!" The windows rattled once more, right out of their hinges.

"Hip hip--"

"I'M NOT THE DRAGON LORD ANYMORE!!" The teens sans Garble roared anyway, loud enough that everypony in Ponyville could tell where they were.

"Didn't you see me? I gave Princess Ember the Bloodstone Staff! She's your new queen, not me! Er... well, I-I wasn't gonna be queen, mind you, but..."

"Oh, Spike, Spike, Spike, " a tubby purple dragon tutted, "We know what we saw up there." He slung Spike under his arm. "Yeah, you're like the..." He counted on his free hand.

"...second-shortest lived dragon lord in history, but you made it to the top," he gestured back, "and Sir Hugglesworth over there didn't."

Garble snapped out of his mini-seizure. "EXCUSE ME!?"

"Plus, there's still that little reception you owe us," an albino dragon chimed in.

Spike quavered once more. "R-reception?"

Vex thrust their new not-lord-and-king into the air once more. "Who's up for a Mega Dragon Party to end all parties!?"

Whomp! Brrrzt! Flitterflutter quack quack!

As she twitch-a-twitched the last of the soot out, Pinkie Pie shook her head. Only after Cheese Sandwich had she figured out what this particular combo meant. It was rare, inconceivable even, that the ball of pure energy adopt a genuine war face.

"Pinkie, dear? Are you okay?" Mrs. Cake foamed out the last of the fire.

"Cup?"

First name. Oh dear. Mrs. Cup Cake stood at attention, dropping the fire extinguisher.

"Push the cupcake."

"NO!!" Garble hollered, cutting himself loose. "Heck no!! This is a mob! We're supposed to be an angry mob here!" He swiped a yelping Spike back. "We were gonna beat this little teddy bear up till stuffing came out, remember!?"

But a gang of hormonally-driven dragons would only listen to two words: 'Monster', and 'Party. Garble had to duck aside to avoid becoming part of the road. His one-time goon squad carted Spike off to the Crystal Palace for hijinks and fun times. The albino dragon slowed down, stared back at him for a beat, then caught up with the mob.

In the middle of the street, the once again Spikeless dragon lay as catatonic as a certain yellow pegasus would be through the whole incident.

Four ponies lay some distance away, equally stunned. Apparently, Spike wasn't in any real danger after all.

After a minute or five, Garble blinked.

"..."

If they'd all listened closely, they could've heard the rusty gears churn to life, for the first time in ages.

"...Am I being ignored?"

The four mares marched up to pick up where they'd left off. Spike would have to wait for the moment. Ponyville was still ablaze in places, and there was still one killing machine out in the open.

This was gonna be one bad day after another, wasn't it?

Spike was having Twilight's heart attack for her. In barely twenty minutes, what the gang of dragon teenagers had done to Ponyville, they were doing tenfold to his (and apparently their) new home. Their fire refracted off the facets of the wall, producing a free strobing effect to go with the metal beat everyone thought they were dancing to. He had to give them credit, they were super-efficient with their carnage.

"Oh, sweet! Dibs on the table!"

"My pillar! Get your own, chump!"

"Ugh, More straw? Hay? Bran? Prunes!? Where's all the gems, Spike!?"

The only thing thankfully left un-pulverized, in the center of the room, was the Table of Friendship. Only because it was been buried under a makeshift hoard of shredded furniture and what used to be the pillars.

As of right now, the white dragon on top embodied the party, clubbing everyone else in the face between dance moves with a one-of-a-kind marble bust of Clover the Clever.

One that he swiftly pitched over to a brown boulder of a dragon on the other side of the hall.

"Fore!" Clump tail-clubbed the piece of history into history. Electrified, he roared out a pillar of fire and punched a hole in the wall, ripping a chunk out and chomping down on the gem.

Wait a second. Was this... solid magic!?

"BLEEGGH!!"

Oh sweet merciful Ember! Clump dropped the gem and nearly retched on the spot. He started clawing his tongue out and flamed frantically, trying to burn that horribly sweet taste out of his mouth. Cripes, it was like someone found a way to make honey taste like leaded cough syrup! The heat only brought out the subtle nuance of cheap flavoring, and Clump charged out for the nearest bush outside, leaving a Clump-shaped hole in the palace.

Yeah, good luck tasting anything else for a while, Spike mused, and gagged himself at the memories. Never. Again.

Where were the others right now? Where was Applejack? Starlight? Rainbow Dash!? They had to be hearing all of this!

Rarity circled back for cover, dodging pillars of fire, as Dash and Garble wrestled it out.

"Please, not the face! Anywhere but the--AAUHAUGH!!"

Garble screamed at the top of his lungs and hollered once more as Dash gave him yet another swift elbow to the jaw. Applejack kept back, throwing another rope around even tighter than was strictly necessary, knocking the breath out of him, while Starlight and Rarity, regrouping, fired at will at the bruised dragon.

A punch and a scream were heard, as Fizzle this time slugged a ram-horned kobold clean through the air, sending him sailing into the railings of the upper balcony.

"G-guys, I'm stuck!" Baff flailed around as he dangled by his horns. "Guys!?"

Spike had stayed cradling himself with the two other purple dragons. One of them was off by the kitchen door, next to the only half-pillar left. "Cthome on, you can dtho ith!" sobbed Vex, polishing off yet another plate of his Gauntlet armor.

No, he couldn't.

"...And I swore never to go near another stagecoach," Spear finished, pulling his arm back down, before pulling up the next scar just above his leg. "And this monster right here..."

Future note: Take shower. For my eyes.

Vex finally came back and plopped down, now a sniffling wreck from the dare. All that was left of his beloved was his precious, precious helmet, which he held close like a blanket.

"Wasn't all of it," Spear chided as he pulled up his new share of the treasure: More bits of the wall.

"Please, guys! Call 'em off! I'm gonna get in so much trouble! Or go get Garble to do it! I'll do anything!"

"Sorry, bro," the mop-headed twig shrugged, "I'm not the one in charge." he carried the still red-eyed chubster back into the fray, "Oh, Vex. Have I got another one for you..."

Spike broke out the paper bag. In charge.

In charge! He slapped his head, duh! They said this was all for him, didn't they?

"Hey, guys! Stop for a bit!"

Fizzle was still using priceless craftsmanship as a bludgeoning tool, giving Clump concussion number ten. With nodragon left to fight, he was firmly the King of the Hoard.

"Fellas? Bros!?"

Spike started to dance around desperately. Baff was still trying to pry open the glassy railings that held his horned head hostage.

"Hey!! Emergency meeting here!!"

One of the flames came heart-stoppingly close to the chandelier holding his friends' memories. After Tirek, it had thankfully been fireproofed, if not scorch-proofed. Still, Spike, at last, had had enough. Steeling himself, he took in a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to try a little something out.

In a flash, he stomped his foot and hollered in a voice fit only for the deepest chasms of Tartarus.

"DRAGONS!! HEAR US NOW!!" The wind was visible, and even audible, as his little eyes glowed with a passionate blaze.

"THY LEADER DEMANDS THAT THEE... Thou... um..." a brief lull in the storm.

"YOU!! ALL OF YOU SHALL CEASE THESE FESTIVITIES AT ONCE!!!"

...

For the first time, silence. All eyes were on him.

Fizzle lost his footing, and slid down the hoard like a scaly rubber raft. Everyone else stood frozen in place. Even Spear's eyes were bugging out from under his hair.

"Dang, Spike."

Spike's chest burned red.

But not with pride.

At once, he doubled over and hacked up a storm, with tears in his eyes. His lungs were on fire from lack of air. His throat had been chewed to pieces by his own words, and the horrible coughing only made it even worse. How did Torch and the alicorns even do that!?

Spear sighed, colored impressed once again. "You heard the little guy! Dial it back a little!"

Oh, thank sweet merciful Tia!

Without missing a beat, they all went back at it, swinging debris everywhere as violently as before. Baff finally resorted to tearing up the banners around them, hoping to spit on them and wipe his head free. Instead, they sizzled right out of his hands. "Help!!"

All in all, the out-of-control hoodlums had 'dialed it back' by about 85 percent.

Spike hung his head low, having dealt all the cards he had. There was only one thing left to do now.

And he wasn't gonna get out of it ungrounded.

Party Crasher

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Far away in Canterlot, four princesses, and one former princess, discussed matters around brunch. The bloodstone scepter rested next to Dragon Lord Ember's chair as she, and through her, the dragonlands, made contact with Equestria for the first time in millennia. Maybe the first time ever.

It was the kind of thing that called for a more 'important' setting than fresh, green Ponyville Castle. Everypony had prepared to make the perilous journey to the dragonlands, but lo and behold, Princess Ember surprised everyone by coming to them for the meeting, and she'd come with a question.

"Wait, so that's what all those fields are for? You just grow your own food?"

Officially, these talks were to finally bridge the gap between two classical enemies, which called for a more important setting than fresh, out-of-the-way Ponyville Castle. Unofficially, though, they continued having their lunch, discussing whatever came to their minds.

Princess Celestia nodded at Ember's question, letting a guard take her plate. "Ever since I can remember. Some ponies even farm rocks for their gems." She tilted her head quizzically. "You really didn't know that?"

Ember nibbled at the last sapphire, blushing. "I... might not have gotten out much as a hatchling. Dad was strict."

They 'ahhh'ed in unison. Twilight, the next chair over, gave a sisterly pat on the shoulder, snapping Ember back to reality.

"Well, going back to the matter at claw... hoof, whatever." She pounded her chest, belching out a whole treatise of notes in a wreath of flame. "I have no clue what I'm reading here half the time. How are we just supposed to work all this out?" She looked up and down at the jumbled stack of paper. "This looks like it could be used as a club."

"Ember?" Twilight chided.

"Just sayin', just sayin'!"

"Basically, you start small," Twilight reiterated with a chuckle. "Maybe we can pick a few of the friendlier dragons to come live with us, and--"

"Except, hello? I don't know any 'friendly' dragons. And besides, what about the crowd? I barely managed to land here without starting a panic. And I had to wear these!" She held up the torn remains of a clown wig and a nose.

"You could just make them hug each other again." Ember looked at Princess Cadence like she'd asked to put them back on. "Just throwing it out there."

"Have I ever told you about Dragon Lord Ajax?"

Before she could tell the sordid tale, one that nearly led all Dragonkind to extinction, a scroll burned up in front of Celestia. "A letter from Spike? Right now?"

"It must be a matter of urgency," Luna told her, and they opened it together. Both sisters blinked, their eyes widening.

"Twilight? You might want to read this."

Dear Twilight,
How are those peace talks going with Ember? You, um, not fighting too much in there? Eheh...
Things are going as great as ever here in Ponyville, by the way. I even made some new friends! Dragons, in fact. And guess what? They all just love your castle! I hope you don't mind if they all threw a teensy-weensy little party for me. I'll make sure to keep everything from falling apart while you're gone.
In fact, once you're done, feel free to come over and help me make sure everything's running smoothly. I'm sure they won't mind having a pony show up!
Spike.

Having just signed his death warrant, Spike had to stop playing spectator, and ran into the fray. Just when things seemed to be settling down, Vex declared that his thunder wasn't gonna be stolen, and he threw down the gauntlet. He threw it down big. He tore down the wall. He woke up the beast. He made it rain, and he rallied everyone for their second, third, and fourth wind, turning the storm into a hurricane. And then Spear pushed the button.

"Wow, guess that dumb armor's been weighing you down! You're on fire, Tubs!"

A tail match here, a punch there, and now, all bets were off.

Spike had to circle around the match as bits of castle flew everywhere. As Clump and Fizzle chanted on, "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" the two purple dragons were ready to knock each other's lights out. Spear got a slug in, knocking a tooth out, before the crazed basilisk plowed him into the wall, trash-talking all the way. "You know, when I'm done with this little playdate? Know what I'm gonna do? I'mma take a nice hot bath, in my new armor, maybe use your mop to wipe my pretty little--"

"Shut up already!" Suddenly, Spear kneed him in the gut, forcing the motormouth to let go. He followed by charging up, dodging swing after mindless swing, before launching another fist. Vex ducked his head this time, letting Spear's fist connect with his hard metal helmet.

"--Beak."

"GYAAAOW!!" Spear curled up and nursed his accordioned fist, giving Spike the ramp he needed to sprint up and over the fight. As he backflipped over Vex's head, Spike knocked his helmet down over his eyes, took his horns, and landed on his back, pulling down.

"That's enough, both of you!"

"H-hey, get off! I can't see, where'd he go!?" Vex flailed around blind as Spike hung onto the biggest, scaliest rodeo he'd ever been on, feet quavering at the back-sweat.

"Is he still in front of me? Are we doing a tag-team thing? Which one of us says Marco?"

And then, it struck like an earthquake. With the sound of a muffled clap of thunder, the hoard flew apart, flinging broken castle crystals in all directions, and unearthing a miniature, violet sun on the table. A bubble of magic pulsed outward, washing over into every nook and cranny of the room.

Before they could even duck and cover, six dragons found themselves glowing, paralyzed by solid magic. The three purple dragons looked around before toppling over into a tripod stance.

Spike was promptly freed, and floated onto the back of a crackling alicorn, who stood beside beside yet another dragon. The bits of crystal hung still in the air, like a frozen snowstorm.

"WHAT!! IN THE NINE LAYERS OF TARTARUS!! ARE YOU DOING IN MY CASTLE!?!?"

Dang! He really did need some coaching.

Massaging his ears, Spike looked to a scowling Twilight,then turned to the blue dragoness beside her.

"Ember!" He lit up like a light, and leapt off to give his old friend a Garble-sized power hug.

"Oh, this again?" Spike's one real dragon-friend grinned and chuckled, patting him awkwardly, and peeled off the grabby hatchling, suddenly stern. "But I'm with Twilight. What party?" She let him down, and crossed her arms. "Why do I get the feeling this castle's not usually this trashed? You have some explaining to do here, Spike."

As if on cue, the front door flew open. Two unicorns, one white and one pink, charged in, their horns glowing blue. "Unhand him, you... oh."

As Rarity and Starlight blushed at their tardiness, Applejack and Rainbow Dash walked in carrying a wooden pole, with yet another dragon tied to it, like some kind of sacrifice. Ember stared dead ahead, recognizing her red foe instantly.

"You!!"

Time slowed down for everyone. Her eyes glossed over, her face grimaced, she screamed over the statue garden, letting everypony scatter around her. Landing in a cloud of dust, she hauled up the Garble-totem by the shaft of the pole. "You've got a lot of nerve coming all the way down here," she snarled. Garble whimpered pathetically, the best he could do in his current state.

"I know what you're doing here. You think you could go for round two? And let me guess..." She glanced back at the other five, starting to twitch in their shells, before freezing once more. "Your pack? All for one little Spike? Wow. Just wow. What a hypoc--"

"Ember, wait! They're not here to hurt me!"

"Mmph wns," Garble muffled through the ropes. Ember dropped the idiot like an old leftover and landed.

Before she could turn and scold her stray subjects, they all started to twitch as a stalling engine noise clunked and sputtered through everyone's ears. In seconds, the pink prisons popped like a piece of gum, letting them all bow to their knees like their lives depended on it. Twilight dropped to the floor as well, face red and woozy.

"I'm sorry... Too many... dragons... magic... block..." Thud.

For some reason, one of those dragons had been hanging from the balcony by his horns.

"GAAAAAH--Ulph!"

Had been. Baff rubbed his sore tail grumbling, before bowing down as well.

Applejack, seeing her body was still un-filleted, finally shook out of her funk and donned her hat, before galloping up with the others to help Twilight and Spike up. "Anyone mind fillin' us in on what just happened here? No pressure now, just wonderin'."

Ember crossed her arms, tapping her foot, and narrowed her eyes. "Well?"

Now, Fluttershy may have been the stare master back home, and she may even have achieved the same result if pushed hard enough. But Ember was still Lord of the Dragons, and when the Dragon Lord herself is cross with you, you only have two options. And only one of them is family-friendly.

Baff took the brunt of her glare (Oh geez the glare,) and withered up. "Well, ahem." He had to look away, but she pulled him back in, turning her motherly gaze up to eleven. "We miiighta followed Spike home. He hung out with us awhile, y'see, and then that whole 'Dragon lord' thing came and went, and... We still owed him a good time pleasedon'teatme!" He collapsed in a heap while he still had his soul. Garble rolled his eyes.

"A good time?" All eyes turned to Spike. He hopped off as Twilight climbed back to her hooves, marching up to the gaggle of fellow reptiles.

Then, to puctuate the coming sarcasm, he started to clap. Slowly. "Yeah, guys. I just had the time of my life today!" The kind of applause a villain might give once the hero had it all figured it out.

"Boy, what a party it was. Ten out of ten. So sorry you girls missed it!" With a good, final clap, he rubbed his hands together, stopping to face a fat dragon who, just moments ago, had been fighting to the death. "Vex, is it? Take a look around. What do you notice?"

The renegade popped up his helmet by the fin, letting him take in the carnage for the first time.

The Hall of Friendship looked more like the Quarry of Friendship now. Bits and pieces of what used to make up the pillars, the walls, and any spare furniture were scattered all over the ground. The left wall had a gnarly gash from roof to ceiling, rimed with plenty of smaller holes (one of them shaped just like a brown dragon,) letting the outside air carry some lingering smoke in.

The place would've been unsalvageable, were it not for its two all-powerful magical tenants. Above, the Golden Oaks chandelier was charred black, and the memory gems hanging from its bent tips would take hours to detangle and polish.

One of those gems fell loose from the tree, and clinked to the floor right between the two.

"I've still got it?"

Meanwhile, in the Party Cave:

For the first time in twenty minutes, Pinkie got another twitch, like the aftershock to a massive earthquake.

Forget the ribbons. She had to act now.

Meanwhile, in the Hall of Friendship:

"Are you all crazy in the bananas?" Spike threw up his arms. "You guys want to throw me a party? Fine. But who shows a guy a good time by: stalking him? Almost killing him? Burning his town to the ground? Wrecking his house? Starting a fight? Who does that!?"

He was done. He wasn't Spike anymore. He was just an angry little volcano, spewing out the day's stresses like a toxic cloud of unbridled rage.

"...And do you even know how long it takes to get smoke out of a carpet!? Not fun! And then there's the 'new door'..."

And for the first time in a long time, Vex felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. Or knocked over a stroller. Only this time, he felt... bad about it. Maybe even worse than when he'd gotten up in his armor. Maybe even worse than when he'd eaten his armor. He took off his helmet and looked at the dull, pitted reflection.

"Spike?"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Spike was supposed to be one of them now, cutting loose and having the time of his life. Out of the corner of his eye, Half the little ponies had clustered together with Ember, chatting and debating amongst themselves, while the others gave Spike a 'there, there' as he cooled down.

"Spike, I'm..." The big guy looked down, glancing around. "...I think we're all done here." He spread his wings, taking the lead. "Places to see, towns to pillage, you know." He tossed the helmet up and slung it under his arm. "See ya 'round, dragon lord."

"Ahem," Ember tapped the staff she was leaning on.

"Oh." He stopped with one foot on the grass. "Um, other dragon lord?"

Then he felt the back of his neck burning. Ember was giving the glare again. He felt something else. Spike was glaring at them now. Twiddle and Sprinkle or whoever were glaring at them, and even Garble, still ready for a spitroast, was glaring.

Bits of rubble drizzled from the ceiling.

"You're not getting off that easy."

For a pony princess who'd just had her second home in a row trashed, Twilight was surprisingly generous. The upper guestroom was decked out in pretty pony pinks and yellows, as if a flower garden had thrown up in it. A giant bow window took up the far wall, looking over a scorched Ponyville. Half of the gang lay sleeping with all the grace of a pack of teenaged dragons, letting the smoke billow out of them and muck up the ceiling. Any chance they could get before the big day ahead.

Fizzle was the only one up and about, burning off all the energy he still had. A mountain dragon like him was nothing if not built to last. He squirmed and fidgeted on the floor, rubbing harder and harder at himself.

"Rrrgh, come on!"

Flecks of white tissue fluttered to the ground around his body. Grunting furiously, he doubled over, flaring his wings, and ripped out a new sheet, not even caring if he got a rash from this.

"Get off of me!!"

Finally, finally, the itching went away.

Stupid sun. Stupid skin. His whole body was all chipped and flaky, peeling off in some places. His back had it the worst, looking like he'd tried to rip a present up on his birthday, only to find fresh skin underneath. Thankfully, he was still a dragon, so burns, even sunburns, just didn't happen. Small comforts.

"Are you done yet?"
Fizzle jumped out of his half-skin, and spun around to see Garble sitting on the other side of the room, looking right at him. He was on the floor by the bay window, even though a chair and corner table were right next to him. Garble patted the floor for him to come have a seat next to him.

Well, what kind of guy would say no to that?

Fizzle stepped over the old skin flakes, stretching his arms over and behind his back. Man, what a party! If only Garble could've been there, maybe he'd be asking Fizzle for pointers right now.

So why did he feel so hollow?

He leaned back between Garble and the window, and slid down onto his tail. "You doing okay now?" Fizzle asked without thinking.

That earned him a sharp look. Okay, fair enough. Garble was wrapped up in some red marks now that he'd been cut loose, plus a bruised pride from being wadded up, tied up, and getting dragon-coded into staying far, far away from Spike. Slowly, the red menace grinned and fluttered his eyelids. "Fizzy?" He said in a diabetic tone. "What did I say about dragons?"

"They don't ask for help. My bad," he curled up blushing, only for Garble to grab his crest, forcing his eyes back up to him.

"And they don't apologize either." Garble let him go with a pat on the back, and they sat side by side without a word.

Both of them wore blank expressions, as if waiting for someone or something to break the ice.

Fizzle ended up being that someone. "Hey Garble, about ditching--"

"Hey, you going deaf? What'd I just tell you?"

"Right, sorry," he bleated.

Garble's eye twitched, nearly popping an artery. His throat started to glow as he struggled to find the right scream, and his claws were ready to rip out the first throat they touched. Then he ran out of energy.

"Y'know," his old mentor went on, "I've been doing some thinking about today. And last week." His face was as readable as a brick. "And the migration."

Oh geez, here we go, the cute little thorn in his side. Fizzle stopped with the back patting and picked some more skin off. When Garble wasn't looking, he plugged the strips in his ears, and inched away, slowly, slowly now, ready for the bomb to drop.

"...We're like," Garble, not exploding, searched for the word."We're like... frrriends, right?" He spelled it out, like he'd just learned the word 'astigmatism'.

Fizzle poked an eye open. That wasn't the bomb he'd expected.

Also, a bit of a stretch. Ponies did friends. If a dragon got caught dropping 'F' bombs around, he'd be tanned, brazed, and marched out with a bow on his head.

Also, the skin-plugs did nothing.

Fizzle looked absently out the window to admire his handiwork outside, and picked up a vase over by Baff's foot. "I guess you could put it like that?"

It did kinda make sense. Him and Garble were the only ones with any real history, beyond 'get gems, fall in, have fun,' but... "It's not like have a lot of tea parties these days, though."

Tossing the porcelain piece up like an apple, he puffed some fire onto it. Blue fire, the hottest there was. The priceless artifact didn't stand a chance.

Garble rolled his eyes. "Okay, first, leave the wisecracks to Vex." He daggered the little weasel sleeping tail-up in the corner, hugging that dang helmet like a teddy bear. "But I get it, though. It's been a while. Like, four, five years?"

Fizzle just shrugged. Dragons didn't need calendars. None that he knew.

"Which reminds me..." Garble beckoned a claw. "Show me what you got, big guy."

Fizzle looked down, then back at a hanging Garble, and jumped. "O-oh, right, the 'thing.'" He slapped himself for letting it slip his mind.

What was he so worried about? They did it every time they crossed paths now, letting him... touch him. Right in front of everyone. Alone.

The two of them.

Fizzle built himself up, thrust his arm out to Garble and looked away. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"It's not a freakin' booster shot, you big baby." Garble said, took the arm and squeezed. Hard. With his claws. His sharp, red, toned claws. He, Garble, was touching him.

Fizzle did not like being touched.

"Woah, you're rock-solid!" Garble worked his way up and down the tense, white arm. Fizzle ground his teeth to the tune of the scraping and grinding rattling around in his skull, as each poke ricocheted around his bones like a bat screaming in a cave. Fizzle focused on his breathing, and counted backwards, letting Garble have his way. There was an "Mmhmm..." and a 'woah' heard every now and again.

"Okay, flex." Fizzle did so, just like always. Good Lord, did Garble even wash? The little bugs of dirt left under his scales burrowed deeper and deeper into his scales as they were jostled out of place by this very assault on his being, and there wasn't even a pool of lava to wash any of it off. And right while he was shedding, too!

"Maybe you should be giving me some pointers," Garble joked and let up. "I'm proud of you."

And just like that, worth it. Fizzle took his soiled arm back and glowed like a champ, and took Garble in the arm-slingiest of brohugs. They sat there like that for a while.

Yep. Red and white, taking on the waste. Just like the good old days.

Still, some niggling little nag of his couldn't help but pry. Spike and Ember--

"Howsabout we go do a little hunting here, since we're in pony town? Just you and me?"

Fizzle stopped mid-glow. What did he mean by... They weren't seriously gonna try again, were they?

"You got gems in your ear? She said no hunting. Or burning, or sneaking off, or growing a hoard..."

"Mmhm, mhmm," Garble nodded in stride. "She didn't say we can't play a little game, did she?"

"Well no, but--"

"Well? What is it?" Garble was getting impatient. "Friends?" Garble and impatient did not mix well.

Fizzle gulped. Then, without warning, Garble punched him playfully. "C'mon, don't slide back now!"

Hey Strafe, check it out! This little guy's all white!

Fizzle hitched and dug his claws into the floor. He was a baby again, ready to bolt. But he was cornered. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, and that oh-so-heinous laughing. A gang of dragons closing in, ready to have their own little throwdown.

Fizzle, huh? You look more like a shrimp to me...

"...Fizz? Hey, Fizz! I'm still talking to you here!"

"Wha-- yeah, sure! Why not?" Fizzle snapped back to reality, and shivered. Just a tap on the shoulder. He had to wipe his brow twice. H-heh, yeah, not anymore, chumps!

Nothing had moved. He was all alone, just him and his new-old maybe-frenemy, with everydrag else up and filing out. The puddle of slag had stopped glowing a while ago, and felt cool to the touch.

Garble helped him up, and patted him on the back. "There's some hope for you yet, bud."

You know what? What's one little game? Getting up, Fizzle brushed himself off and followed suit, too caught up in himself to hear a faint yelp from behind. A tacky, finned helmet lay on the floor, marking the start of a thin trail of confetti that led out the window.

Best Claw Forward

View Online

There's a reason Ponyville exists at all, despite all the pillagings it's been through. The routine. First, the infrastructure: Roads, walls, and plumbing are rebuilt and replaced from the ground up. Carousel Boutique, for instance, had been built over three times. Once that's all done, the roofs get rebuilt and re-thatched. There's no point to a house if it can't keep the rain out, after all. Once everything's up and running again, the windows are replaced, the doors are re-hinged, and the streets are sweeped. All the while, the odds and ends get straightened out. Carriages are mended, lamps are erected, another insurance company goes out of business, a '3 Days Since Last Razing' party is held, and life goes on.

How does it afford this? Tourists. Ponyville, home to the newest princess! Ponyville, where every party ends with another! Ponyville, last stop to the (once) deadly Everfree Forest! They had it all. In Ponyville, Nopony bats an eye, as long as you behave yourself.

"Hey, watch it, Bubblebutt! You want me to fry you or what!?"

Garble shook his fist at the mare flying past the hole in the wall. The one that he had personally made not six hours ago, just to see how big he could make it. If he'd known he'd have to slave over it for the rest of the day, well, it'd still be worth it. He muttered some curses and ill-wills, and cooked the fresh layer of bricks. "Some ponies."

Stupid Twilight. Stupid, dumb, slavedriving, frilly-laced little, can't even beat a bear all by themselves... He could make friends too! Just look at Fizzle! His one and only friend was on the doorframe, painting over the bits of wall that Garble was done with. Yep, a chip off the old block. If they could just shake off the little pony they'd been saddled with...

"Hold your horses now! That's way too much!" Applejack had been juggling him, Fizzle, and the pony patrons, assuring them that no, they weren't on the menu. "Remember now, you scrape off the excess before bakin' them! And ya don't even need to bake them! Just let 'em dry on their own."

"Says you," Garble slapped on another full inch of mortar. The wall was a very shoddy piece of craftsmanship, with dried globs of the stuff leaking out and down the sides. That'd be more work for Garble when he sanded it down to size, and then made some more mix to make up for the stuff he'd wasted. He went for some more mortar, when... "Ah nuts, I'm out, again."

"Well, that's what you get." She reached under the workbench for another bag of mix and... "And now I'm out, too."

Her expression softened, and she reached into her bag for a box. "Can't fault ya for workin' hard as you are. Here." She cut out two slices of apple pie, and laid them out on the mudboard. "To keep your strength up. I'll be just a minute now. Sit here, and wait for me. Don't you two cause any trouble while I'm gone."

She rounded the corner, and the ex-alpha took the plates, leaned on the wall, and waited. But not for her. "You remember how Spear did it?"

Fizzle was absently painting yet another flower.

"Ahem."

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" A swipe of paint, and it was gone.

Garble had finished both slices already. He licked the syrup and crumbs off his teeth and belched, tossing the last plate into somepony's salad.

Fizzle was pretty sure that other one was for him, but whatever. He tossed the brush aside, hearing it join the plate and the salad, and sidled up to his friend to lean with him. He looked at Garble, who was leaning against the wall, with his arms and legs crossed, and he mimicked the pose. It's about time they cracked some more skulls.

No no! No cracking now, he admonished himself, Just a little fun, that's all!

Taking a mental step back, Fizzle reviewed the little game the two had cooked up on the way here: He'd blindside the lucky mare and grab something of hers. Then, they'd play keepaway for a bit before the apple pony came back. No blood, no sweat, nothing he hadn't done before.

So there they stood, together, scanning the street for some easy prey. Rush hour was in full swing. Everypony had places to be, even if those places were half-charred and busted. Many of them were giggling and gossiping (figures), some were in a hurry for some party or other, and still others ducked into the door at the mere sight of the dragons.

A group of construction stallions were chatting about something or other, making catcalls and showing off their muscles. Too much hassle.

A pair of pegasus mares, twins it looked like, landed in tandem at the awning, giving the two lizards a wide berth, keeping an eye on them. Too high-strung.

Fizzle snorted. There had to be somepony worth their time. That one was too strong. That one was too scrawny. Too fast. Too crowded-in. Too weird.

Just then, a lull in the crowd came as everypony made their stops. Then, round the corner, a bunch of little fillies, each one with a matching booty-mark, whipped around at a breathtakingly slow pace. Maybe slow enough to run someone over if they weren't careful. A snail, sensing a challenge, started picking up the pace.

Garble lit up and rubbed his hands together, grinning like mad. "That's a cute wagon they've got there."

Oh hay no! Little kids, off the menu!

Fizzle made to keep looking, but Garble grabbed his crest. "No, over here, Fizzy!"

Fizzy's eye twitched.

Over here, Fizzy!

Come out wherever you are, we just wanna play wit' ya!

They found him! Little Fizzy's life flashed before his eyes. He lay huddled up in a crevice, with the volcanoes, the ash, the heartbeat, and the fun little match ahead. He tried everything to get away. But now he was cornered.

N-no! Put me down, I'm not a ball!

What's the matter? You wanted to hang, didn'tcha?

No! He threw up his dukes on reflex, when he came back down. No. It's just a game dude, just a game.

He jerked out of Garble's grip, and smoothed his crest, and took a deep breath.

Then, in a huff, he kicked the board over. That was the second time today!

"...Okay, now," Garble whispered, pushing him along.

Fizzle fell into character right away: The big bully, looking to stir up a nest. By the time he went on the prowl, the kids were already maybe a third of the way across the street. He needed to hurry.

Though truth be told, he could've probably walked up to the girls, picked them up one by one, and taken the wagon himself like a shopping cart.

He cut to the right, pretending to get something over there, while keeping his eye on the prize. All the while, the few ponies around looked at him with a wary eye. His resolve started cracking.

They weren't gonna get away with this. Applejack was gonna know, and she was gonna tell Ember and Spike. Why did Garble think he could... Why didn't those fillies notice them? Two dragons, out in the streets? Hello?

"...But we have the books. I'm not saying we should, just if we wanted to..."

"We're not turning my scooter into a spaceship, Sweetie Belle! Now what was number 15 again?"

The big, obvious, scary teenaged dragon was within sniffing distance now, as the little fillies kept their noses in their books. The pegasus was copying her answers, while buzzing her wings like crazy to keep moving. Even though she wasn't flying.

Like, at all.

Oh. Oh boy...

He couldn't do it. He could burn a house down, that he could do. He could rough someone up if he looked like he could take it. But a little kid? Howbout a clipple? He steeled himself for what was coming next. This was stupid. It was inane. It was all he could do not to think of something, anything, more stupid.

He broke off and marched back to Garble. "No. Not them."

Garble stood stunned for a moment. Then, he glared a glare that screamed intent to murder. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

It was a house of cards at high tide.

"Eheh... N-not those little small fries!" He shook, pointing at somepony, anypony else. "That one looks like a lot more fun!" A mint blue unicorn looked both ways before crossing the street, with a purse on her side.

Now Garble was sizing her up, leaving Fizzle to shake more and more, sweating bullets as he watched the little girls make their grand getaway. Eventually.

What are you waiting for, you little brats? Get out of here already...

"Maybe we should actually do our own work from now on? Just saying..." At that, they were swallowed up by a troupe of mares on their way back to work. The two-minute long window was up.

"Hmm, you're right." Garble got his groove back and slapped his friend on the back. "Good catch, Fizzle. You ready?"

Fizzle's skin was still splitting at the seams. "You know it."

"That's called milk, darling. We get it from cows here, but you can get it from just about anything with fur and, er..." Rarity blushed. "...udders."

"Huh? Oh, the road's so we can tell where we're going. Not everypony can fly, remember."

"This is my little home slash business, the Carousel Boutique, where everything is-- Nono, Ember, that pony isn't real, it's just for clothes! Oh dear..."

"And that's the new library across the way. It's got all the books you need for all those questions you have." Spike grimaced. "Just watch where you sneeze. Trust me."

"That sounds nice," Ember gaped, twirling her scepter, "but I'm more of a doer than a reader. Ooh!" She flapped over and looked at the schoolhouse. "Hey Spike, what's that spinny number thing up there?"

She had clearly never gone outside her own volcano, let alone all the Dragonlands. All through the tour, she'd had the fiddly, doe-eyed demeanor of a foal who'd woken up on a whole new planet, and Spike was only too happy to show her around.

Spike, Rarity, and Ember continued making their way down the street in broad daylight, picking up more groceries on the way. Everypony bowed politely to royalty, and promptly let go of their breath when she was gone. As the current dragon lord asked and pointed at everything from A to Z, Rarity carried the bags for Spike as she gave the baby ex-dragon lord a ride on her back.

"Are you feeling better now, Spikey-Wikey?"

Spike happily sucked up the last of his strawberry-sapphire shake, extra syrup. That little, crisp 'ahh' that followed, signaled to all that all was right with the world. "Ugh, I dunno. Maybe another group hug?"

Rarity rolled her eyes, scoffing playfully. "That means he's fine." The girls burst out laughing as Spike shrugged with a 'can't blame me for trying' look.

Yep, just a boy and his two friends-who-happened-to-be-girls, taking in the sights, giving the grand tour, living the life.

Rarity looked around, setting the bags and baby on the ground. "Let's see, they should be here. Are you sure you want to go through with this, Spike?"

"He won me over easy enough. How hard can it--"

FWOOOOOSH!!!

And there they were, up on the roof. Fire rocketed upward, punching clean through a stray cloud and narrowly missing a rainbow tail. "Hey, knock it off, you two!" Rainbow Dash pulled a half-loop and flew down to the half-rooftop.

"Eat it, Chump! My turn." Spear was wrapped around the main beam, tying the rafter into place with his tail. As the skinny, mop-headed kid stared Clump down, he lined up the hammer, holding the nail in place. Doing so gave him another idea. "Those nails you're holding? Stick 'em up your nose."

Yep, two out of six. There were supposed to be six bogeys, but then they'd realized they were short one. Spear, Baff and Fizzle just played dumb, Clump really was dumb, and Garble snorted and said, 'good riddance.' So Twilight and Starlight had taken on the search themselves, but everypony else was keeping an eye out for Vex.

Then Spike hit his head with a big slap of logic. "Hey Ember, why don't you just make him glow? Like how we met? I was itching like crazy back then."

Clump, meanwhile, shot the nails out, narrowly missing Dash. "Okay, no more kiddy games! Give yourself a nurple."

"We don't have those, beanbags."

"Two nurples!"

"Hmm? Oh," Ember had been watching Tweedledum and Tweedledee get at it. "I hate to disappoint, but we'd have to be miles away for that to work." But she shrugged. "I guess it couldn't hurt, though."

Spike did a dance and sat down to see the show. With a stance of a mountain, and a gaze of steel, Dragon Lord Ember planted her scepter into the pavement, and rubbed her hands, concentrating. The Bloodstone Scepter glowed from the inside, as if it was lit on fire.

At first, the soft whispers could be mistaken for the wind. But as they picked up, they were clearly chanting. Generations of draconic chanting, each passed down through centuries of blood and sport and conflict, crying for the four winds to rush to this one spot.

The leaves and thatching started to rustle. Then, the wind burst into a full gale. Rarity shrieked, slapping her best hat on to protect her all-important mane. The Dash Crew hugged the roof for dear life. Rainbow Dash herself struggled to stay upright in the growing storm.

It was totally overcast now as Spike, clutching the ground himself, finally heard and felt what he'd passed up. He could barely hear himself think! What next? Would her eyes start glowing? Howbout a pulse of raw magical energy? Thunder? Lightning? Runic chants from time eternal? Would she... just stand there, cupping her hands?

"Hey, Vex! Get your big, cheeky tail over here!!"

"Hello?"

Nothing but dark.

Vex drummed his claws on the little chair as he looked around. He couldn't see anything but the cold foldable table in front, the single lightbulb up above, and the lock and chains holding his poor tail hostage from behind. The mosh pit champion resumed yanking and flaming to free himself. No use. Cold iron.

"Hey, I gotta remind you, big scary dragon here!" He called. "Eats ponies and cute little bunnies before dinner! Could probably go off any second!"

As if to kick him while he was down, he lit up like a big neon sign saying, 'HERE BE DRAGONS.' Of course. They're probably looking for you now, ya big lummox!

"What do you want from me!?"

And like that, the clouds scattered. No wind, no clap of thunder, just crickets.

Spike looked at Rarity, and Rarity looked at Spike. "...Was that it?"

"Yep. I told you so." Ember plucked her staff back up. Nearly everyone around shrugged and chalked all that up to 'just being Ponyville'. "But, I guess he'll be easy to spot now. Now about my classmates..." She looked straight at the two.

Spear had stopped mid-hammer, blown away by the spectacle. "Geez, I'd hate to be Tubby right now..." Unfortunately for him, Ember was looking right back at him. He gulped.

Clump, also a little shaken (and a little more smitten,) looked slightly to the left of Ember, and lit up like a light.

"Hey hey, it's the Spikenator!" Dropping everything, he barreled past Spear.

"GAH! SONUVA--Woaoah!!" Spear tried to keep his head on, finding that more important than keeping his balance. And so he fell over, his tail snagged, leaving him dangling like a flag as he struggled to right himself. The bigger dragon plowed right through the scattering crowd, and wrapped Spike up in a dragon-sized armlock, with a full-frontal atomic noogie coming his way.

"GAAH! Clump, no! OW! OWW!! D-down boy! WAUGH!!" It was no use. Spike was pinned under his armpit, fighting to get out as he jackhammered into his skull.

"How's it going, little peewee?" Finally, the big lug slung him into a baby-carry, leaving a scrambled, disoriented puddle in his arms. Spike was pretty sure he smelled burning rubber.

Okay, maybe not hoofball.

Spear above busted a gut, as he dangled like a yo-yo. "D'awww, that means he likes you!" He then thought to unwrap his tail and catch himself in the air, before flying over to the 'cool' crowd.

Spike had been given a noogie before. He hadn't, however, been given a power sander to the head, while being pressed through a wringer, with a big, scaly bear manning the handle. He popped out of Clump's loving embrace, found his brain lying around, and shook out the static.

Right then. Time to bridge some cultures. "So, what's up, you guys? Are you getting your work done?"

"Yeah Spear, you getting your work done?" Clump snickered. Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.

"Actually, we're making good time here," she recounted, taking out a mental clipboard. "We're almost done with this side of the street. After this one we have to do Lemonheart and longholster--"

*snicker*

"THEN there's the gutter cleaning, the soot scrubbing..."

"...Anyway," Spike rerailed the conversation, "I don't think we've really just talked here. I'm Spike. These are my friends, Rainbow Dash and Rarity. You've met Twilight, pretty much my big sister, and Starlight, she's new..."

Spear, not listening to introductions, got down to Rarity's level. After a good, long look at her perfect mane, and her pristine, silk-white coat, he put out his claw. The fashionista shook on it.

"Charmed, I'm s--GAAUGH! MY MANE!!"

Spear had yanked her in and mussed her hair into a birdnest. "There, now we match!" He fell to the floor cackling harder as Rarity pulled out the mirror, comb, and paper bag.

"Hey!" Rainbow Dash would've blown a whistle. "Just for that, one more hour."

The hundred-year-old man-baby wiped a tear under his hair, then shrugged. "Worth it."

"Watch it, mophead," Clump warned, scooping up his boss once more, and clumping over to his other boss. Spike and Ember exchanged awkward glances. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy.

"So, how about you, big guy?" the queen asked. "I'm getting you're kind of, ah, physical. Any sports?"

"Uhh... No clue what that is. Sometimes we like to kick something round and kind of ball-shaped into a hole or something. We don't really have a name for it. It's usually just for points or gems, or..." Then he lit up. "Hey Spike, we never did finish that egg hunt. Why don't we go and--"

"No way!"

"Absolutely out of the question!"

"That's not fun you guys, that's sick!" Spike shivered at what he almost did to poor Peewee. "No more egg smashing, or razing, or whatever. That stops now."

"What? Come on!" Spear pissed, crossing his arms. "Not even a little?"

"We have plenty of different ways to hang out."

"Really?" Clump tilted his head like a lost puppy, "Like what?"

"Race you to the pool!" Dinky giggled as her sister gave chase, making up for lost ground.

"Really, bro? 'Like what?'" Spear exasperated, not hearing the town abuzz around him. "They're ponies! Just sit around all day, having their little tea parties, and makeovers, and... and..."

"Extra extra!" Featherweight went on to bark the week's events. "Ponyville Elementary hosts water balloon fundraiser for latest dragon attack! Read it in the paper!"

"Or, or," Clump chided, "singing?"

"Yeah, that! Singing, butterflies, ribbons..."

"Flowers! Get your flowers here! Only slightly burned!" Lily hollered after selling another one to a passerby. "High in antioxidants, good for the heart, good for the soul!"

Spear crouched again to baby-level. "Seriously, how do you live like this, Spikerino? There's literally nothing here for you!"

Meanwhile, one Lyra Heartstrings couldn't hold it in any more. "Oh, Bonny, you shouldn't have!" She threw herself onto Bonbon, laughing and crying at the paid trip to the Fleuve islands. "That's why you're my best friend, agent or not!"

"No, you're my best friend!" They hugged tighter, like only a pair of best friends could.

"No, you're MINE and I love you!" They cried with joy on each other's shoulder, safe in the knowledge that, through thick and thin, they'd always be there for each other. As best friends.

Spike looked at Spear, then at Clump. These guys needed this more than they thought. "Well, you could come with us and find out, if you want."

He kept looking at them. They looked at each other. Then at Spike. Then at Ember, who looked back at Spike, who looked at a passerby, who nodded conspiratorially. Then she nodded at Dash, who nodded to Ember, who nodded back to Spike.

"Do you have anything else to do?"

Spear slumped in defeat. "Alright, point taken."

"Yeheah, more Spike-time!" Clump hovered off the ground, ready for another noogie.

Rainbow Dash got to him first. "Ah-ah, after you're done with the roof."

Meanwhile . . .

"Hey there, Vex."

The chubby hearthslight jumped at the sudden acknowledgement. The voice, somehow bubbly and serious at the same time, echoed from somewhere in the cramped room. Cave. Whatever. All his magic-glowy-dragon-power showed now was a white, cloth-covered table, and that was just peeking out of the darkness.

That was it. Pony or no, she'd still had him hostage. "I swear it was just a few houses! I went back and paid! That purse wasn't hers anyway! You got the wrong guy, I don't know where everyone's hoards are!" Vex stopped mid-panic. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

Just then, a plate of onyx slid up in front of him, much to his eye-glimmering, mouth-watering delight.

"Oh, I make it my business to know these things. Especially if you're new here."

Then there was slobbering. Oh so much slobbering. And then, a manila folder slid up in front of Vex, as he licked the plate clean of those black beauties. Inside the folder was a set of photographs, hastily scrawled over in crayon.

Vexington Rex The Dragon
Type: Dragon, Basilisca hedonii
112 Death Cave, Marezonian Jungle
Favorite food: Black onyx
Favorite color: Red
Tickle spot: Under arms
Suspected party animal, loves games, can't say no to a dare, duck-shaped freckle under left wing.
Two counts of home invasion, reckless partyharding, property damage, arson, mutiny, assault...

"...Resisting arrest? I was asleep, for chrissake!" A little curious now, he went onto the next photos, squeezing his wing self-consciously.

Baffler Muggs The Dragon, species unknown
Favorite gem: Turquoise
Hobbies: Death metal, smashing, polluting, hoard growing, accounting
Would love Black Noose, bit of a stick-in-the-mud, narrowing down gift ideas

Garble Olivia Gleankiller The Dragon
Big meanie bullyhead, worse than Old Gilda?
Afraid of snails, lightning, inadequacy, abandonment, ostracism, needles

"Looks like you've made quite a name for yourself here, Vexxy." the voice had a source now, a sense of direction. Vex looked at the other side of the table, of course, seeing total dark, but at least he could listen to something from in there. "You're new, so I'll give you a pass, but I throw the parties here, buddy!" A pause. "Though it's been a while since I've had to throw a dragon party."

At that, the lights turned on. As it turned out, the concrete floor only made up a small circle, ending just beyond where the light reached. The rest of the room was a cave he could get behind. There were whole hoards worth of party supplies: Balloons and baubles, games and greetings. There were candy corn stalagmites, the cakes each had their own shelves, The confetti was sorted alphabetically, and he could suddenly smell something hot and fresh wafting down from... was that a slide?

He stopped looking when a pair of bubbly blue eyes filled up his field of view.

"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"

"Of course, Spike's a dragon, but he's practically one of us! I don't think I've ever had a party for a really big dragon, well, not since college. And a whole gang of them? Geez louise, where do I even start?"

Vex found his heart somewhere in his larynx. "So you want me to give you some pointers?"

"Mmhm!" Dang, those eyes were sparkly! He'd seen a few ponies in his time, he roughed them up a bit, even tried to eat one once, but those eyes...

Something didn't sit well with him. He deflated like the big balloon he was. "Gee, I'd love to, but I just wanna go home. I have... stuff to think about."

The pink pony deflated a bit herself. "Well, if you really think so..." Without another word, she skulked over to the white table of sterile mystery.

"Umm, I've been meaning to ask about that."

Nothing. Without a word, she stopped at the cover, and grabbed a corner of the cloth. It was then that he noticed a bit of red around the edges. Dark blood red.

That got his blood pumping. "What's under that table now?"

The cloth gave, contouring over something suspiciously sharp and jagged sticking out the ends. Pinkie got a glint in her eye, and smiled a smiley smile that could scare the blue off of Ember. "Just a little something something," And then, in one fell swoop, she swept the cover off.

A set of knives lay on the table. The formerly armored dragon blanched.

A set of knives, alongside a cherry berry triple-layer velvet cake, yet to be cut. And enough sparkling onyx to pave a street with.

Bait and Switch

View Online

"Hey, look who it is!"

Baff startled and tossed his drink, standing at attention as his two fellow roughriders started circling him. After an hour of hard, honest work, the coal-grey featherweight could be trusted to work on his own.

Spike got off Rarity as he motioned Spear and Clump back. "We're off for a picnic, why don't you come with?"

Baff made to answer, but stopped when he saw the friendly face of Dragon Lord Ember the Great and Revenant. Any backtalk he had in mind died on his lips.

"Yeah, pass," he rasped. He snatched the broom and flew back to work, sweeping the streets spotless.

Rainbow Dash watched him picking and lifting half a door, before stopping and catching his breath. "Dude, are you feeling okay? Your voice is kinda..."

"I'm fine!" Baff hocked up another wad, and spit on the stretch of rubble. "These streets ain't gonna mop themselves up here."

Each of the others looked up and down the avenue. The street was totally clear for three blocks behind them, save for a few eroded rings in the cobblestone. Up ahead, the street was littered with organized piles of assorted detritus, some of them partly melted already. How much of that stuff was he using?

"I... think I can pull a few strings," Ember said to deaf ears. In fact, as she approached, she noticed him actively avoiding eye contact, muttering 'don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook...'

Crud, maybe that Dragon Stare was a bit too much. "C'mon, it'll be--" Suddenly, she hitched. Thumping her chest, she belched out a scroll. How did Spike get used to that?

Ember opened and read the note. "Rrgh, are you kidding me!?" She tossed it aside and spread her wings. "I'm sorry, Spike, duty calls."

"Oh." Spike deflated, tapping his fingers together. "Okay..." He hung his head. The look on his face was enough to split her freshly-thawed hearts. Both of them. Then he looked back up. Oh, the doe eyes were just heartless!

He would've made a fine dragon lord.

Finally, Ember could take it no more. "Oh, c'mere, you!"

Spike jumped at the free hug. Ember still wasn't sure about the touchy-feely stuff, but if it made Spike happy, she'd give him all the hugs.

When they let go, she stretched her hugging muscles over her head. "Well, see ya round, half-pint!" she waved, and flew off.

Half-pint stood there, giving a pity-laugh. Rarity tried her darnedest not to laugh along. The others made no such attempt.

"...I guess it's just us, then," Spike blushed off, with his friends, and his hopeful future-friends, following.

Baff had gone back to his own little world, turning away from the little spectacle. No more breaks. Now it was time to man up, clean up, go home, and re-rebuild his hoard. He'd paid his little debt to Spike.

...Did it count the kid hated it?

Baff shook the thought, digging into the next pile of ex-pavement, when he stopped at the scroll Ember had so carelessly tossed aside.

Finally, with a sigh, his rusty old conscience won out. No, no it didn't count.

"Wait up half-pint, I'm a coming!"

As he caught up, he passed an unassuming alley dumpster. Almost on instinct, he tossed the scroll in with the banana peels, the trash bags, the trophies, the bits, the gold, and the jewelry box.

Kay, that's it. Just to get by! They'll never have to know!

It was high noon in the garden today, on the end of the Great Dragon's Centennial Exhibition. The tulips were in perfect bloom, accenting the lava fountains quite beautifully, making it the best time of the year to take a stroll. A crisp, robust pine ash was mingling with the roses around the plaza, upon which lay a marble statue of renowned philanthropist and sculptor, Sir Garbleton Nichols III, in thinking posture. A conservative rendition of Richter von Throatgouge's fifth completed the set.

Sir Clumpsworth was regaling on the fine details of that ill-fated hunting expedition, as Garble and his companion, Dr. Fizzlepop, Esq, traded blows on the chessboard.

"...And then the poor blighter, bless his heart, tossed his rifle to the ground, and the blasted thing misfired and sent us into a tree!" The round gentleman shook with mirth as he twirled his beloved handlebar. "Twice!"

The polished doctor saw his opening, and moved his queen into check, with the rook backing him up. "I must admit, old chap, I have grown quite fond of the child as well. Shame, shame--"

Smashing the board, Admiral Garble pulled a phaser out of his coat, setting it to 'stun' as the first H'rogok smashed through the airlock.

"I shan't have anymore talk of that diminuitive rapscallion!" he raged, opening fire. "Nor will I have you, my good compatriot , abscond from this fine club as well!"

F--zzzztle-X9 didn't respond, having been zapped to atomized dust. It was bedlam. Armored purple and blue warthogs now swarmed the deck of the Bloodstone Officiator, hairs bristling for some action. Two, four, eight, dozens. Garble vaulted over the comms, slugging a piggy right in the face.

"You all really must stop reading the Horsetrotten pages." The ship sparked and shook as Cadet C'lmp was hurled through half of the bulkheads. The now black-eyed alien wrestled Garble to the floor.

"Nest liner, all of it!" He kept firing defiantly, even as he was carted off to the mothership. "Be real men now. The Torch Times have always been the voice of reason..."

'What's one little game?' He asked. 'Just a little fun!'

Well, now, he was gonna be banished. No, executed! No, public towel whipping times infinity!

Fizzle the deep-doo-sitting dragon sat in the hospital lobby tapping his foot, quivering, steaming, his nerves ready to burst. He'd only heard of these places, these 'hospitals', secondhand. He'd seen them from the outside, where grown ponies went in kicking and screaming. And when they left, all that ever came out was wrapped in bandages, needing a wheelchair to get around. Now, he was in one of them. Alone. With Applejack.

Well, her and a few lingering clouds of dust in the waiting room. As soon as they'd taken a seat, everypony else suddenly felt better, filing out in droves with a new spring in their step, leaving the albino mountain dragon to see how many times he could tie his own mouth shut with his tongue.

Nerves and boredom were a hell of a combo.

Fizzle slurped his tongue up, twenty-five, and resumed switching between hyperventilating, speculating on his grisly demise, and clawing the ruined bottom of his seat.

Garble knew, okay? He knew about his thing with kids, ever since Belhoof! And he sent Fizzy after that wagon anyway. They knew how this was gonna end, and still he went with it! Why? Why did he keep doing this to himself?

Oh. Because Garble asked nicely, that's why.

He looked up at the clock. It'd been forty minutes. Time to verdict? Still waiting.

Ugh, what was with all the waiting here? What was even the point of this room!? He leered at what used to be a pile of old magazines, and what were now a small pile of little birds and lizards, with a few clippings littered around the table. The legs were always the hardest part.

With no more paper to work with, Fizzle snatched a few marbles out of the flower vase, and took a breath. They started to melt down into--

"Not indoors now," Applejack snipped, still looking ahead.

--Into what would have been a neat little cup, thankyouverymuch. Blowing them out and tossing them back in, he slapped himself and checked the clock again.

Did the minute hand go left or right?

Then he yiped at the sudden noise. Nono, it was just the bell.

Ember and the two 'Lights walked out of the office door, with a giddy red dragon slumped over Ember's shoulder. For some reason, Ember had a bit of a black eye. Garble, for some other reason, was uttering 'pew pew' noises as he giggled dumbly.

"So, is he gonna be alright?" Applejack asked. Doctor Stable checked the clipboard.

"Nice one, Fizzle!"

The trap was sprung. Before the poor mare could react, Fizzle had swooped by and filched her pannier, not laying a scratch on her.

"No, please! That was my aunt's! I'll give you anything, just not that!"

Garble pushed her back. "Oh, an heirloom?" He played with the orb, tossing and catching it like it was his.

"We got an heirloom here, don't we?" He repeated, grinning madly. "We'd better hang onto this with our lives, then." He nudged his buddy. "I mean, what kind of monster would--"

And without another word, he flipped the ball like a coin and chomped down. Hard.

Old Aunt Pearl White's glass eye shattered in his mouth.

Fizzle and Colgate both winced.

A tear went down Garble's eye.

"...GaaaaAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

"Frankly, he's lucky his mouth is as tough as it is. Only a few stitches needed, should be out by tomorrow." Dr. Stable looked at the board more tersely. "The sedatives weren't easy to figure out, though. We've never had a dragon before, you see (Not since college.) We ended up using a grown alligator as a template."

Ember felt a moist tickle on her horn, right where Garble was. Fearing the worst, she drew her eyes slowly to where his head was.

"GYAAAH!!"

Garble, just a wee bit smaller than an alligator, had taken to his mother's new creamhorn recipe, and started suckling her horn to find out what filling it was. Ruby? Cherry? Strawberry?

It took three slugs to get him off her, and he melted onto the floor, singing along with the wallpaper.

Ember thought happy thoughts as she de-violated herself. "Alright, Garble's coming with us. He got his second chance, and he blew it. Now he answers to me."

"What about him?" Starlight pointed.

Fizzle let go of his breath. Right, no use running or hiding. It was time to own up. To Lady Ember's face. The one who held his life in her hands.

"Itwasallhisidea!" He pointed. "I tried to stop him! We weren't gonna hurt anyone!"

"Well, apparently, he did," Twilight pulled the stoned sociopath by the ear, while keeping him off her horn.

"I rrregret to inform the crown... no survivors..." At that, Admiral Garble, Savior of the Galaxy, lapsed into a minute-long drooling contest with the fish.

"Yeah, Fizzle comes too," Ember stated, stroking her chin. "Or come to think of it, I guess he could go chill with Spike and the others. He might learn something."

He blinked. Did she just order him to goof off? Or did she order him to come with?

"...Well? Which is it?"

Oh, it was up to him. That was new.

Fizzy slumped to the floor, every muscle in his body coming undone. That was it. He was done. He couldn't go on like this. He needed to get away and think. Clearly, coherently. Lady knew he couldn't do that around these guys.

"I'm going with Spi--"

Garble sneezed.

"--With you guys!" He shot up tall and stiff, not stammering at all.

Now it was Ember's turn to feel pittish. Those 'crap-it's-her' looks were funny at first, but now... Were they just afraid of her?

Sure, they're getting what's coming to them, but she wasn't doing all this just to punish them. Mostly. If they'd helped out a bit, she'd hoped, they'd get to know some of the pretty ponies and maybe, bond? Hang?

They did know she wasn't her father, did they?

Twilight and Applejack felt whatever joy there'd been burn itself out. Doctor Stable had goner on to other business, leaving just them, a piteous Fizzle, a pitied Ember, a pitiful Garble, and a pitying Starlight.

Applejack tipped her hat. "I'll go ahead and look for Vex. Looks like you've got some work to do yerself."

"Thanks, AJ," Twi responded.

Then, as she gathered her new troops, the warrior-princess-scientist-magician felt something both new and old. An itch. No, a calling. Her calling. Nono, the other one. As soon as Applejack left, she lit up like a star reborn.

"Ooooh, I'm sorry, I can't wait anymore!" Her horn was sparking. "Oh, an opportunity like this comes once in a... Well never! Do you know what this could do to the field of draconology!? All of science!?" She was squeeing and prancing and hoofy-kicking all over the room. "Culture, history, anatomy, You and Spike only gave me so much! Do you know how many theories and hypotheses I can finally run through with not one, but three whole specimens!"

That snapped Ember out of it. "Specimens? Now hold--"

In a flash, all of them were back in what could only be the castle. Only she'd never been in this room. Twilight launched into full beamy-gush mode as she turned everything on and measured everyone from head to toe to tail.

"Are teen dragons anything like a baby dragon metabolically? How do they sustain themselves on just gems, minerals and the occasional virgin? What about growth patterns? Is the hoard-size coefficient universal to all species, or just Spike's? Ember, let's start with you. We can chat and work at the same time. It's only going to hurt a little, but murmurmurmurmur sciencesciencescience testingtestingtestingtesting..."

Lady Ember wasn't sure anymore, but some little itch in the back of her head told her she really would've been better off with Spike. Starlight's goggle-donning didn't help matters. Nor did the hazmats. Or the cold-looking metal infrastructure. Or the total lack of doors or windows. Or the needles. Garble, still high as a kite, pointed and giggled. "Jolly good show, all!"

Twilight snapped on her welding goggles. "Indubitably!"

Dragons Don't Do Friends

by Changeling209458

Prologue

Not the Face!

Party Crasher

Best Claw Forward

Bait and Switch