//------------------------------// // Fun in the Sun // Story: Grief is the Price We Pay // by Scyphi //------------------------------// The following Saturday, close to the end of Spike and Thorax’s second moon in Vanhoover, started out beautifully and was to be a sunny, warm, and clear day—all of which Fly Leaf noted as she read the weather schedule in the morning newspaper during breakfast. “You know, today’s probably going to be one of the last nice and warm days of the year,” she pointed out as she scanned the scheduled weather for today and the upcoming week following. “After today, the weather is going to gradually start to turn cooler and cooler as the weather teams start prepping for the autumn season that’s coming up. They’ve also got some big rainstorms scheduled so to get in the last of the moisture of the summer.” Spike looked up from the plate of waffles he was munching on. “You saying we should enjoy it while it lasts, Fly?” he asked around his mouthful of food. Fly grinned in good humor at Spike’s talking with his mouthful. “Well, it is the weekend, and we’re not opening the shop today…seems as good a day to do it as any.” “I feel like you have an idea on how to do it, Miss Fly,” Thorax observed, the disguised changeling working on buttering the toast that served as his scant breakfast; his eventual compromise to keep up the appearance that he was eating like a normal pony for Fly’s sake, while also not eating anything in too large a quantity that it would upset his two-chambered changeling stomach (though the two slices of toast still tended to leave him feeling mildly bloated for about an hour or so afterwards). Fly folded up her paper and set it aside, steepling her hooves together as she leaned closer to her two employees. “Have you two been down to the beach yet?” she asked innocently. Thorax looked up from his toast. “The beach?” he repeated. Fly smirked. “Vanhoover is a coastal city, in case you hadn’t noticed,” she teased. Spike stopped to consider the matter, tapping his cheek in thought with the flat tip of his knife, sticky with syrup. “You know, I can’t say I have yet,” he admitted, who realized it did seem like it should’ve been the obvious place to visit at least once. “Thornton, you tend to wander to places in the city I don’t often…you been down to the beach?” “I think I walked past it once,” Thorax dismissively. “But I suppose that’s all.” “Well then,” Fly said like this settled the matter. “Sounds like a day at the beach should be fun for all of us then.” “That does sound like a good idea!” Spike agreed, his eyes brightening eagerly behind the false eyeglasses he wore. “We could build sand castles, look for seashells, and go swimming in the ocean…” “Personally, I’d be fine with just some shade and a book to read,” Thorax said flatly, thinking of the next Sky Trek book he had checked out from the library but hadn’t yet taken the time to get very far into. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll get you in on the fun too Thornton,” Fly urged, nudging the apparent stallion with one hoof, before clapping the table determinedly. “It’s settled then. Let’s go to the beach!” Thus, only a couple hours after breakfast found the three on their way off for the sandy coastline that divided Vanhoover from the North Luna Ocean, the day already showing it would be notably warm. All of them had taken their own preparations for the planned day of fun in the sun. Fly Leaf had donned a pair of wraparound sunglasses and a faded old t-shirt that read “GO BOG BEAST BUTTERFLIES,” Vanhoover’s local Pegasus Ball team (which Fly confessed was an only so-so team, but she supported them out of habit anyway). Not having any swimwear already in his possession however, Spike had to stop at a shop on the way there to get geared up. He stepped out of the shop wearing the least in terms of clothing he had since arriving in Vanhoover; he had donned a pair of blue swim trunks that he then proceeded to strut around in proudly, while also wearing a towel draped over his shoulders along with his usual false glasses, the lenses having the sunglasses tinting they originally had restored by Thorax at the dragon’s request. He also wore a floppy sunhat he was borrowing from Fly, but as he had made it clear that he planned to head straight for the water upon arriving at the beach, the hat would likely be removed soon. Thorax, by contrast to the others, wore nothing new besides, of course, his usual disguise as Thornton, but he did have with him a towel (at Fly’s insistence) as well as an aging beach umbrella and the Sky Trek book he wished to read. He was also the one who seemed the least excited to actually be going to the beach. Both Fly and Spike tried to get him excited about the trip to the beach, but Thorax remained fairly ambivalent about it, repeating that he intended to simply find a spot on the beach to lie down at to read his book. Arriving at the sunny beach, already heavily spotted with plenty of other ponies actively going about and playing, didn’t seem to move Thorax much. He continued to simply trot onto the sandy beach while Fly and Spike, ditching the sun hat as expected, ran ahead and straight into the ocean lapping the picturesque coastline. The cool water felt good under the rays of Celestia’s warm sun above them, and soon the dragon and his employer giddily engaged in a frenzied water fight for the next several minutes. It wasn’t until they were both sopping wet already and Fly Leaf decided to swim out into deeper waters that Spike realized Thorax was not with them. Looking back up onto the beach, he spied the disguised changeling had remained on the white sands a good distance from the waterline. Spike waded back out of the ocean and headed up to Thorax, watching as his friend, having laid out his towel and his book on the sand, struggled to try and set up the beach umbrella he had brought with. “C’mon you…” Thorax grumbled with the stubborn umbrella, which was refusing to slide open like it should when it finally sprang open. “Ah ha!” Thorax declared proudly, taking his hoof off the umbrella’s runner. The umbrella then promptly snapped shut again, wrapping the closed canopy around Thorax’s head like a predator hungry for prey, and causing the changeling to fumble about within for a second before he managed to open the umbrella again. “There,” he said as he ensured the umbrella would stay open this time and stuck it into the sand beside his towel before lying down on top of it, levitating his book open before him. Spike watched him do all of this, standing there dripping wet for a long moment in skepticism. “You’re just going to sit there and read?” he blurted out finally. “Why not?” Thorax asked without looking up from his book. “Why not? Thorax, that’s not where all the fun is!” Spike waved the changeling to join him in the ocean. “Come swim with me and Fly. The water’s great!” “I’ll pass,” Thorax replied, turning the page in his book. “Oh c’mon, why would you want to sit there and read instead of swim on a day like this?” Spike studied Thorax for a long moment, and then suddenly got a thought. “You…can swim…right?” “Of course I can swim, Spike,” Thorax replied, rolling the blue eyes of his disguise like this should’ve been obvious. “I’d just prefer not to while we’re here.” He went back to reading his book for a long moment, waiting for Spike to leave and let him be. Spike did not though, and finally Thorax looked up from his book again to see the wet dragon had sat himself down in front of him, giving his friend an unconvinced look. “Thorax, are you afraid of the water or something?” he asked innocently. Thorax frowned and didn’t reply, turning back to the book in hopes Spike would drop the subject if he ignored the dragon. Spike pressed on anyway. “Whatever for?” he asked. “It’s just water. If you really can swim in it, you don’t really have much to fear.” “I don’t like getting wet,” the changeling attempted to excuse. Spike didn’t buy that. “Oh please,” he said, dismissing the excuse with the wave of his claws. “I know you like the baths you take back at the shop, and you’re fine with getting wet then.” Thorax still didn’t reply, focusing on his book still, but Spike noticed him narrow his eyes at the comment. Spike smirked, and tilted his head at his friend. “Or do I really need to remind you of last Tuesday’s…incident?” Thorax had moved his record player into the attached bathroom in their room, where it sat in a corner near the door, playing a record the changeling had borrowed from Fly Leaf. As it played, Thorax himself sat in the bathtub, surrounded by bubble water up to his neck, weaving his head along with the cheery music as the changeling bathed. “Disco girl!” the undisguised changeling empathically sang along to the music, using a back scrubber brush held aloft in his magic like a microphone. “Coming through! That girl is yooooooou!” It was then that Spike, looking for a washcloth, abruptly opened the door and stepped into the bathroom. Thorax jumped in alarm, splashing water everywhere as he curled himself protectively away from the surprised dragon, feeling exposed. “DON’T COME IN! DON’T COME IN!” “I still can’t believe you were listening to girly northern pop sensation music,” Spike teased the disguised changeling. “No, I wasn’t—it’s not important,” Thorax grumbled, not looking up from his book, but Spike could see his disguised cheeks blush a little in embarrassment. “Look, my point is that getting in the ocean isn’t much different from a great big bath you take with friends,” Spike summarized. “It’s fun! And the only thing the water is going to do to you is cool you off, get you all wet, and maybe get your hooves pruney.” “But that’s the problem, Spike!” Thorax hissed suddenly, lowering his book finally and thrusting his head forward at the dragon. “A wet changeling can’t fly!” Spike blinked and pulled back from the sudden declaration. “But you’re in disguise,” he pointed out. “The disguise isn’t waterproof, Spike,” Thorax explained in that same urgent hiss while glancing around the beach for anyone that might overhear. Fortunately, all of the nearest ponies were far enough away to not be able to hear the conversation, especially with the sound of the ocean nearby. “And when my wings get wet, they get floppy and can’t generate any lift until they dry off again, and until they do, I can’t rely on them to make a sudden escape if danger were to appear!” Spike’s eyebrows went up. “Is that what this is about?” he asked. “You’re afraid you’d be stranded in the water if something were to choose that time to attack?” Thorax again opted not to respond and instead turned his attention back to his book, using it to hide his annoyed face. “Thorax, that’s ridiculous! Who’s going to attack you here at a public beach like this, where everyone could see it?” “It’s changeling instinct!” Thorax argued. “A changeling just doesn’t feel safe in the water while it’s on its own!” “All of you?” Spike repeated, incredulous. “How do you guys bathe then?” “Generally, we bathe communally,” Thorax explained curtly. “There’s a large hot spring under the hive, and in regular social events, a quarter of the hive goes down there to all jointly bathe while the rest of the hive stands guard against threats. That way, every changeling can look after the safety of each other through the power of numbers.” “What about when you’re away from the hive?” Spike asked in a challenging tone. “Then a changeling on its own typically avoids getting wet where and when it can help it, relenting only when it is absolutely certain it can do so in complete solitude, when there’s nothing around that could potentially endanger it.” “So that’s why you’re so persistent on such utter privacy when you’re in the tub!” Spike declared, making the connection. “And here I thought you just being overly prudish.” Thorax rolled his eyes again. “We’re all naked all the time, Spike, wet or dry, so I don’t see why that would be your explanation for it.” “You’d be surprised,” Spike responded vaguely, thinking about Rarity. He adored the mare, but even he had to admit the mare had odd perceptions about the subject from time to time. “But look, you can still maintain your disguise in the water like normal, right?” “Perfectly.” “Then you have nothing to fear! Everypony’s just going to think you’re another pony here for a swim and think nothing of it. And the water’s perfectly safe from any dangers; its Equestrian law for every public access beachfront like this to be treated with a repellant spell that chases away any dangerous sea life that could be in these waters up to a certain distance, and they guard the boundary where it ends, see?” he motioned out to sea where, some distance from the shore a variety of ponies, mostly pegasi, were stationed in a scattered line, sitting in buoy-like lifeguard seats anchored into the water, marking where the safe zone in the water ended. “And even if there was a danger, Fly and I would be there to make sure you stayed safe.” Thorax, however, shook his head, persistent. “It’s too open and public!” he argued. “I don’t know the terrain or the ponies, and frankly, knowing I couldn’t rely on my ability to protect myself, my gut says I just can’t trust it.” He gave Spike a knowing look. “And it may not seem like it, but trust is very important among changelings.” “You don’t trust it, huh?” Spike’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So you’re saying you don’t trust me on the matter then?” Thorax gave Spike a withering look. “I didn’t mean it like that, Spike.” “No, no,” Spike said, getting back up as the subject struck a nerve. “It’s all right. Clearly even after everything we’ve been through together in the past two moons, it’s still not enough to take me at my word.” “Spike,” Thorax repeated, looking ready to object. “Enjoy your book, Thorax!” Spike called sarcastically as he walked off back for the water. “I hope the tide comes in on you!” It was only after he had stepped back into the water though that the young dragon realized Thorax had sensibly set up his reading spot well above the tideline, but he didn’t take the statement back. Thorax watched the dragon go, looking disappointed and mildly upset, realizing the subject had rubbed Spike the wrong way more than he realized, but nonetheless, after a moment’s debate, he still decided trying to pursue the subject wouldn’t help either and let Spike go. He instead turned back to his book and kept reading. Spike, meanwhile, went back to enjoying the water, and soon forgot about his spat with the disguised changeling as he continued playing with Fly Leaf, occasionally joined by other ponies coming into the water to take part. Most of these ponies were ones Fly knew personally, and some were regular customers to the shop. After more than an hour of this though, the two having been left on their own in their spot of the ocean once again while they played a game of catch with a cheap beach ball Fly had purchased at a stand up the beach, the pumpkin-orange mare noticed she hadn’t seen Thorax in a while. “We should get Thornton in on the fun,” she remarked to Spike, tossing him the beach ball while turning her head to look at her other employee, sitting alone, reading, on the beach. “I already tried,” Spike explained, turning grumpy as he recalled their earlier discussion and tossed the beach ball back to Fly. “He refuses to come into the water though.” “Why not?” Fly asked, catching the ball with her hooves. “Can’t he swim?” “Sure he can. Long story short, he just thinks he wouldn’t be safe here in the ocean.” “Hmm,” Fly hummed in thought, pausing the game by setting the beach ball down in the seawater around them and draping one hoof over it so to keep it from floating away. “You know, when we were foals, my sister Chapbook was afraid of getting into the ocean too, despite being a better swimmer than the rest of us. First Edition and I had to resort to extra measures to convince her it was an unfounded fear during a trip to the beach once, many years ago. It worked too, and she was fine about it ever since.” “What sort of extra measures?” Spike then tilted his head at the earth pony as he caught on to why Fly even brought it up. “Are you thinking it would work on Thornton too?” Fly merely replied by giving Spike a mischievous grin.