//------------------------------// // Forward Motion // Story: Song of Whispers // by Wintergreen Diaries //------------------------------// Chapter 26: Forward Motion It was a disturbing sentiment, wanting to leave the library and, by proxy, Twilight’s presence, but emotions both new and confusing bid the young dragon seek solace in the clamor of the town. On one claw, he had really been enjoying the time he was spending with the young ponies around town, but for every hour he spent away, it was time he wasn’t with Twilight. But then, even when he had spent time with her, even one-on-one, it felt different, like it wasn’t quite enough. He rejected the notion that his love for Twilight as a friend was growing weaker, fighting tooth and nail against such a ludicrous idea time and time again, but he couldn’t deny that, at times, that’s exactly what it felt like. Introspection came to an abrupt halt as his own needs were set on the back burner, a familiar filly tearing past him with tears streaming from her eyes. “Whoa, what on... Sweetie Belle? Hey, Sweetie Belle, wait!” Bipedal legs pumped furiously in an attempt to keep up, but the with the distance quickly growing, he feared he would soon lose sight of her in the throng of ponies. Just then, the young pony slowed her blitz through town, deviating away from the main road and slowing to an easy trot. She had made it well past the borders of Ponyville by the time Spike caught up, wheezing and utterly exhausted. “What... what’s...” Come on, lungs! There’s no time for this! Actually, now probably isn’t the time for words, either. Spike had learned many things being in the residence of two married ponies. He was there for most every cheerful moment of laughter, every sorrow-filled night when the doubts and worries crept in, and every bitter fight that rocked him to the core, few though they were. Sweetie Belle wasn’t even paying attention to his presence, and thus he chose not to speak but rather seated himself beside her, looking out over the grassy fields that were bathed in the soft orange light of the setting sun. He felt but a tinge of nervousness as he raised a claw, but the filly needed comfort, and sometimes it’s the simplest motions that make all the difference. Sweetie Belle’s sobs softened a little, just for a moment as he gently placed a claw on her shoulders, but they again roared back to life as she leaned into his chest and let the tears flow. Oh man... what the hay could I possibly say? I’ve never seen her so upset, and it’s not something small, either. Should I tell her it’ll be ok? But what if it’s not? What if something terrible happened that can’t ever be fixed? Wouldn’t that just make it worse? Twilight, what do I do? He frantically searched through all the scenarios Cerulean and Twilight had faced, but again came back to the same conclusion; Sweetie Belle would talk when she was ready, and until then, he would wait. And, as the opportunity presented itself, he engaged in a simple gesture of comfort, though he didn’t quite know it was normally reserved for couples. Sweetie Belle fought back the tears, sniffling as she looked up at a slightly blushing Spike, who had started to gently stroke her mane. She held his gaze for a second or two before closing her eyes and leaning close again, prompting a sigh of relief from a dragon who knew far more than he wanted, and yet not nearly what he needed. As she slowly gained control of herself, she pulled away and sat up, sniffling as the last few tears squeezed from her eyes, rolling down her muzzle and down onto the grass. “Th... thanks, Spike.” “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” I want to ask, but I probably shouldn’t... I mean, what if she... “You’re probably wondering... why I’m acting like such a foal.” “Sweetie, having a good cry doesn’t make you a foal. You’re probably one of the most grown up ponies I know, even including some adults.” “You’re thinking of Cerulean, aren’t you.” “Gee, how’d you guess?” “You know, he probably doesn’t deserve being made fun of so much,” she replied, her quiet laugh betraying her split feelings on the matter. “Yeah, you’re probably right. So...” Nope, not gonna ask. “It’s Rarity, Spike. No, don’t give me the ‘I wasn’t even thinking about it,’ look, ‘cause you were.” Yikes, I’m really that easy to read, huh? “Yes, you are.” “Stop that.” Why is he blushing like that? Oh well, no matter. “I was just at Carousel Boutique... I’m sure you’ve seen how upset Rarity has been lately, and I... I just wanted to do something special for her, but I didn’t even get the chance. She told me I was just making things worse, but how...” Again ready with a comforting claw, Spike slung his arm around her shoulders and shook his head. “Sweetie Belle, you’re pretty smart, but I can’t believe you’d actually think she meant that even for a second. Rarity has, well, a problem with taking things to extremes. I can’t really say why she said that, but she didn’t mean it.” “How can you know that, though?” “I’ve spent a lot of time with Rarity, Sweetie Belle. And one of her biggest regrets is how many times she hasn’t made time for you when she should have. She loves her little sister, even if she does spaz out and yell occasionally.” A combination of relief at Spike’s encouraging words and shock that he’d speak of Rarity in anything other than the glowing light of obsession that bordered fanaticism slowly lifted the veil of gloom enough for the filly to crack a smile. “Just like I’m sure Twilight loves her assistant, right?” Ok, that’s not a smile. What’d I say wrong? Sweetie Belle couldn’t have known that she had basically just stuck a needle into a festering problem he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, but no amount of hesitation on his part was going to stop Sweetie Belle from pressing the matter. “Talk to me, Spike.” “Look, I really...” “Nope, no arguments. I talked to you, so it’s only fair you do the same.” “That’s not fair, though! I didn’t press you to talk, so why do you get to?” “I’m a filly, of course! And you’re not.” “You totally are Rarity’s sister.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means you can be a pain sometimes!” “Spike, we’re getting a little off topic, don’t you think? Come on,” she pressed, this time being the one to offer a helping hoof. With a sigh, Spike let it all out. Sweetie Belle didn’t have an immediate answer for the cavalcade of deep topics raised by what she thought to be a baby dragon, but by the very nature of the questions asked, it was clear he couldn’t rightly be called a baby anymore. “You know, Spike, I’m really glad we talked. Sorry I can’t give you any answers, though...” “Don’t worry about it. I feel a lot better after having unloaded on somepony. Sweetie Belle? Let’s make a deal. You can talk to me about anything, and if you ask nicely, I may just let you know what’s going on with me. Deal?” “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Better be careful, though. Annoy me too much and you may just wind up in a song.” They continued to tease, laugh, and generally enjoy an escape from the worries that had been building for weeks. Spike closed his eyes as Sweetie Belle flexed her vocal chords, her crystal clear voice rolling over the plains and beckoning the sun to its rest. All was calm as the sky shifted from orange to pink, and from pink to a soft blue. Sweetie Belle held the final note, slowly letting it fade away into the early evening. After an eventful day, by all definitions of the word, Whisper was grateful when he opened his eyes to find the cottage looming in the distance. Unsure of if there was some kind of limit to how much a pony’s mind could absorb, he promptly trotted straight towards the bed and flopped himself down, sure that it was full. It wasn’t nearly late enough to go to sleep, at least not for Fluttershy, but at Whisper’s bidding she laid down next to him, giving him her full attention which he suddenly found slightly different from before. How could he not? He had nearly seen what it takes to make a baby, learned every facet of the action along with all synonyms that Storm could think of, and as his mind now matched what his body already knew, he found the beauty of the mare beside him a little more than slightly intimidating. “You’re really pretty.” “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not that special, really...” Fluttershy murmured, blushing slightly and averting her gaze. He sure makes me feel like I am, though, and that makes it even better. Whisper, unfortunately, had a vast new vocabulary with which to describe said beauty, and try though Storm had, it just wasn't possible to, in a single sitting, explain everything that was and wasn't appropriate. So, while brimming with good will, Whisper's encouraging words came across slightly different than he meant for them to. “Don’t say that, you’re very special. I mean, your plot looks really soft, and I kind of wonder what’d it’d be like to bite it. Is it like biting a peach? I like peaches. Oh, and your mane is amazing too, the way it runs down your chest and towards the happy place!” He followed his cheery reply by drawing her close, embracing her tightly but then suddenly pulling away. “I’m sorry! Did I say something wrong? I hope not. How are your wings? Is my horn glowing? Why did Storm have to make everything so complicated?” Given that his communication was silent, her pressing a hoof over his lips accomplished very little save letting him know that his freaking out was unnecessary. “Whisper... you don’t have to be afraid. If you do something I’m, well, not ok with, then I’ll let you know. But please, don’t stop holding me,” she whispered, drawing close and pressing into his chest, a few seconds passing before he slowly, hesitantly brought his hooves around her shoulders. Even now... after everything that he knows, he’s still just as cute and clueless as ever. I kind of hope he never loses this wonder he has. “So, where can I touch you?” Ok, maybe he could stand to learn just a little bit more. “Nowhere new, ok? Oh, and, well, not my wings... that was just a tiny bit too much for me.” Again proving himself to be far beyond most males his age in the self-control department, Whisper simply nodded his understanding, shoved his thoughts in his own version of the naughty box, and squeezed a little tighter. He was terribly curious about what he had learned, but he had seen how Fluttershy reacted upon seeing Rainbow Dash and Storm, and coupled with his knowledge of how she responded to her wings being stroked, it just wasn’t worth the risk to satisfy his hunger for innocent exploration. Still, he wanted to be sure he understood. “That means no touching your flanks, right?” “Right.” “And your plot?” “Um, no.” “Stomach?” “I don’t know? Whisper, I...” “I have to make sure, Fluttershy! I don’t want to make any mistakes. Now, what about legs?” Not sure whether to be flattered he was going to such lengths to ensure her happiness or sigh in exasperation that she had to answer what was likely a long list, she resigned herself to answer his questions. “Forelegs are fine, but...” “What about the nono spot?” Is he really having to ask that? It wasn’t often that Fluttershy was sarcastic, but she couldn’t help her tone as she rolled her eyes. “Whisper, it has ‘no’ in the name, so what do you think?” “Um... no?” “Yes.” “Yes? So I can?” “No, Whisper, I said no.” “But then you said yes.” “I meant yes, no you can’t, not yes, yes you can. Understand?” “No. And that one means no,” he clarified, just so the mare who was now covering her face would be sure. “I’m sorry. I’m making you upset, so I’ll stop.” Sensing the mare’s frustration, he let go and rolled away, shaken by the feelings he was picking up on. It was, perhaps, one of the first times he had actually made Fluttershy upset that she didn’t immediately revert to her normal self, and each second she spent exasperated was another moment Whisper spent fighting back dread. “I... should probably sleep on the couch tonight.” “Whisper, wait, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get upset,” Fluttershy immediately replied, berating herself for getting frustrated over something so petty. I must be... more tired from everything that’s happened today than I thought, but I never meant to take it out on you, Whisper. “No, I... don’t want to make you mad. I don’t like it.” With that, he gently closed the door behind him and dragged himself over to the couch. It was almost as comfortable as the bed, and with the windows open, the early autumn weather provided the perfect sleeping conditions, but no rest came. It wasn’t a mystery. All he had to do was reach out his hoof to the empty space beside him to know exactly why he felt no rest, only a growing fatigue as he wondered if everything that had happened that day had somehow driven something between himself and Fluttershy. He hoped, with all his heart, that his fears weren’t true. With each passing minute, the urgency within spurred Rarity to greater efforts, frantically searching everywhere she could think of to look. Hope was stretching thin when, above the din of closing stalls, she heard her sister’s song carry over the crowds. Not wasting a second, she disregarded the dust that she was kicking all over her coat in her haste and plowed full speed ahead, slowing to catch her breath as she crested a small hill and looked down upon the scene. As the final notes drifted away, song was replaced by laughter as the two friends bantered back and forth. Why... does it feel so strange seeing the two of them together? I mean, it’s not a bad feeling, but... It seems I am in your debt, Spike. Thank you for making her smile. Not having the broken cries of a sister wrongfully scorned to drive her forward, Rarity contemplated leaving well enough alone and apologizing later, but as she turned to leave, a growing shame causing her to turn away, the voice of a startled young dragon snared her, halting her retreat. “Wait, is that... Rarity! Rarity, over here!” “Could you sound any more excited?” Sweetie Belle murmured, shooting the dragon’s indignant expression a droll look of boredom, idly examining a hoof. At least, so it appeared, but really it was just a front to give herself a chance to calm down, Rarity’s slow approach warning of either reconciliation or further embitterment. Her sister spoke not a word as she sat down in front of Sweetie Belle, drawing her close and quietly letting her know that any kind of chasm between them simply wouldn’t be allowed. “Thank you, Sweetie Belle.” Sweetie had wanted to vent some frustration, but after talking it out with Spike, hearing the sincerity in her sister’s trembling voice, and seeing her gift worn proudly around Rarity’s horn, she couldn’t find any means to hold a grudge. Rarity’s cutting words had hurt, but seeing her restored was apology enough. “I was so close... so close to giving up, but you pulled me out. I’m back on my path now, the one I wish to follow, and I couldn’t... couldn’t have done it without...” Spike watched respectfully from the sidelines as his longtime crush wept softly, clinging to Sweetie Belle who quietly reassured Rarity that nothing she could do could come between them, that even if she had failed, she’d still have been loved. As the tears began to dry, Spike couldn’t help but comment. “Well, now I know where you get your weepy side from, Sweetie Belle,” Spike whispered, chuckling even as he let those fateful words slip out. He was forced to apply equal pressure to both ears via his claws as Sweetie Belle's annoyance became not feigned, but very, scarily real. “Oh, COME ON! We’re having a moment here, Spike!” It was rare that Fluttershy found herself truly frustrated, even more so when it was with somepony else. Being walked on had been her norm, and even after assertiveness training, she never forced her whims onto others, so she wasn’t very used to dealing with having made somepony else upset. It was different, painful, and she really didn’t like it. Anypony would say that a couple has fights, that they have disagreements, and words are said that hurt, but she never wanted to be that pony. In her case, she hadn’t even needed to use words, because the perceptive unicorn just a room away had known of her frustration. Ashamed, she dug deeper into the covers and pulled them over her head, unwilling to show her face. I guess the fact that I’m not going out there right now means I’m really out of it. I hate feeling like this... Whisper, I’m sorry... Just give me a little while to calm down, and then I’ll hold you, ok? Even that felt like a petty excuse when she knew that he was likely agonizing over what couldn’t even be called a squabble, but she was rightly drained, and thus found her limbs feeling much like lead, and her mind about as cooperative as Cranky Doodle on a bad day. Her heart leapt at the sound of hoofbeats, and she turned eagerly to face the door, but then rolled away as they receded further into the house. This is so selfish, wanting him to come to me. He didn’t do anything wrong, and yet I’m... just laying here, moping? She cycled the thought around, letting it sink in for a time before finally coming to terms with her actions, and she sat up, determined to right them. She had just set a hoof down on the blankets to throw them back when Whisper’s hoofbeats sounded once more, making a slow path to her room. He nudged open the door just a crack and look up at her with eyes that conveyed a disappointment she knew he didn’t deserve to feel. “Whisper... please, come here.” “I...” Fluttershy waited patiently while he seemed to have some kind of internal debate, and reaching a consensus, he opened the door with a hoof and trotted over to the bedside, setting down a bowl filled with the burnt remnants of what may have once been food. He shuffled nervously as Fluttershy leaned over the bed and stared, grateful for the peace offering yet having not a clue what it could be. “Um... thank you, I think, but what is it, Whisper?” “Popcorn.” Placing the charred substance under higher scrutiny revealed a few morpheus shapes that could once have been the white, crunchy treat Whisper had intended it to be, as well as the remnants of the paper bag they were contained in, but it had clearly been left to bake for far too long. “I wanted to give you something that would make you happy, but that mean microwave went and burned it all up! I’m sorry... I tried, I really did!” While neither pony ended up eating the mess, Whisper found Fluttershy quite receptive to his apology, and as she slid off the bed and moved the bowl aside, she made her own apology with a kiss. It was difficult not to smile at his hesitancy, but as escape was cut off by the mare’s hooves wrapping around him, he let go his concerns of doing something that may offend her further and simply enjoyed the tender motion for what it was. “Fluttershy?” he started as they pulled away. “I know there’s still a lot for me to learn, even though my head already feels really full. I’m gonna keep trying, Fluttershy, and I might mess up, but please be patient with me. I want to try and make you happy.” “You’re doing fine, Whisper. Actually, it’s me that needs to say sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten upset like that. There was nothing wrong with your questions, and I know that you were just thinking about me, right?” “Right!” “I think that there’s plenty for both of us to still learn, but let’s learn together, ok? Can you, um, be patient with me too?” Rather than a magical message, he broke into a large grin and held his hoof at the ready. There was a soft clap as the two hooves connected, the stallion’s grin spreading to the mare as she came up with her own idea for reconciliation, motioning for the stallion to climb back into bed. Why is she... I mean, I’m glad to see she giggling, but... I don’t know, it just somehow seems movie? Movie! Movie movie movie! Fluttershy glanced back to find her stallion bouncing in place on the bed, the petty tyrant known as “doubt” having been unceremoniously given a solid buck to the hind quarters to make way for the triumphant return of cuddling. She had just slipped the video in and turned around to find Whisper suddenly quite fixated on his forelegs, examining them quite thoroughly and looking very, very confused. “Um, Whisper? Is everything ok?” Elation burned behind his crimson eyes, and his search came to an end. “I think there’s something missing right... here.” He stared into the space between his interlocking hooves for a moment before returning his gaze to hers. “I think it’s you, Fluttershy. You belong... right here.” While the interaction between Spike and Sweetie Belle the rest of that evening hadn’t been anywhere close to romantic, it had certainly been moving, and such a feeling or setting is easily disrupted when one young dragon suddenly exhales a letter into another pony’s face without warning, along with a small amount of flame due to a burp that had been held in to keep from disturbing the tender moments prior. Certainly, the residual cosmetic damage would be a quick fix for Applebloom or Rarity, but Spike feared his reputation may have taken a hit as he slowly reached over and pinched out a tiny flame in Sweetie Belle’s mane. It could have been a lot worse, yes, but Spike still felt the need to throw himself at the mercy of a filly who looked like she was quite close to making good on her “threat” earlier. “Whoa, sorry, Sweetie Belle! I never really get much warning on those. Are you... ok?” “Ok? Spike, you just belched fire in my face and scorched my mane! Ugh, and it smells too...” The hoof she raised to her muzzle was not to ward of the faint, though pungent, smell of burnt hair, but to hide a smile that was creeping out despite her best efforts. “Rarity, can I go to the tavern tonight? I feel a new song coming on in 'honor' of a certain fashion-ruining dragon.” “Rarity, she’s joking right? Please tell me she’s joking.” Rarity, being the refined lady that she was, had no trouble keeping a neutral expression, easily playing along with her sister’s ruse. “I’m sorry, Spike, but you did do dreadful damage to her mane. I believe she is justified in some retribution.” “Damage to... I burned like three strands of hair!” “Three strands... that’s a good song title! Come on, Rarity, I’m thirsty!” Spike couldn’t do much more than stare at the evening sky, and let his reputation with the rest of his friends float away with a sigh. Sweetie Belle casually turned her head back and noticed his condition, blowing a sigh of her own that he hadn’t picked up on her sarcasm. “Oh, come on, Spike! I’ll make it a funny one. Besides, doesn’t Twilight need her letter?” For whatever reason, and he couldn’t quite say why, checking over his shoulder to see if the glare remained ranked as a higher priority on his list than the letter that lay all but discarded in the grass, but upon seeing the filly grinning from ear to ear, he quickly reverted to his usual self, snatched up the letter, and prepared to dash off towards the library, though given her teasing, he couldn’t help but offer one last well-meaning jibe. “Sweetie Belle? Black looks good on you.” Not bothering to wait on a response, he bolted, laughing as he went, though he slowed to an easy jog once he made it back within city limits. Twilight and Cerulean were both home, sitting together on the couch with their respective books while Dawn contented herself coloring, a contagious yawn spreading through everypony in the room as she showed the telltale signs of winding down. “Twilight? You got a letter from Princess Celestia while I was out.” Twilight’s resulting smile was a trained response, but Spike couldn’t help but wonder if she was expecting something serious by the way she silently grabbed the letter and trotted upstairs. Cerulean watched her go, staring upstairs before turning his attention to the dragon who was now similarly distraught. “Did something happen?” Twilight wrote the last letter, I just sent it without question. I hope nothing bad is happening. “No, Spike, Twilight is just dealing with somepony she knows changing, and she’s a little frightened is all.” At Cerulean’s behest, Spike climbed up next to the stallion and stared down at his feet. Cerulean set the book down and glanced over at the dragon for a moment before turning his eyes towards Dawn, summing up both their thoughts with a murmur. “It’s amazing how much things can change in so little time...” “Tell me about it. I swear, Cerulean, ever since you came to Ponyville, everything’s been crazy. Still...” he paused, giving him a begrudging smile. “A lot of ponies are happier now, too. I just wish...” “You could help Rarity?” He nodded, not bothering to feign being shocked. His crush on the mare was no secret, and while he hadn’t spoken of it to anypony, he had begun to call his feelings into question. “I think... you probably help more than you give yourself credit for, Spike. You’re not taken for granted, you know.” A hoof descended on his shoulder as he turned. “There really isn’t a way to properly repay you for all the things you do for us here at the library, and I’m sure the other ponies around town feel the same. And even more than this, Spike, you’re very dear to a certain unicorn we both care for upstairs.” No bro-moment was to be allowed as heavy hoofbeats signaled Twilight’s return. “Cerulean? Could... could you...” “Of course, Twilight. Come on, Dawn; it’s star time!” Where once lethargy had been kicking in, the filly was immediately bursting with life, dashing over and hopping onto her father’s back. His mane became reigns, and with an encouraging nuzzle to Twilight and a few whispered words of encouragement, he left the library. Dawn took but a moment to gaze in wonder as Cerulean summoned his snowy wings before doubling her grip as he took off into the night, alighting on a low cloud and holding Dawn close as they both turned their eyes to the stars.