//------------------------------// // Spider Trust // Story: My Little Heartbreak: More With a Kind Word and a Hard Hoof // by Jet_Black1980 //------------------------------// Chapter Thirteen: Spider Trust “No it wasn’t, Pearly!” These are the words which tumble from my mouth as I wake with a start. A gasp pulls air harshly in through my nose before letting it out slowly through my mouth. “Ugh,” I groan, covering my face with my foreleg to protect my eyes from any invasive stray light beams that are sure to be around. “What a dream...” The images of last night's nocturnal exploration cling to my senses, momentarily befuddling me as to my current whereabouts. My free leg flops about aimlessly in an attempt to feed me information. “Let’s see... where are we today?” Yeah, I could just make it easy on myself and open my eyes and see; thereby subjecting myself to the sharp, stabbing morning rays... But what fun would that be? “Cushions... Wall... Pillow... Blanket?” Raising that free hoof into the air, the sensation of a phantom finger so desperately fighting to point upward as I proclaim my deduction as to my current placement. “H.B., in the living room on the couch, with the pillow and blanket! Aaand the kitchen is—” I spin my hoof around and point it over my head. “— thataway!” After lifting my all-too-fuzzy forelimb away from my face, I see, much to nopo— nobody’s surprise, that I was correct. At least, I was correct about being in the living room. Because of the light that’s sneaking through the door in the hallway, I was completely turned around as to where the kitchen was. Taking another deep breath before righting myself in my head, I ask the inevitable question in a funny voice, “Gee, H.B., how long are you going to lay here, today?” Smirking, I adjust my blanket and give my pillow a few good, hard smacks. “The same amount of time as always, H.B.” came my reply in a second silly voice. “And how long is that going to be for?” Rolling about on the couch and recovering my eyes once more, I answer in mid-yawn, “Until the bliss of laying down is overcome by the need to pee.” While that friendly bit of banter was amusing and all, said urge reared its ugly little head; poking and prodding at me to get up and perform the morning ritual. Yes, try as I might -- fight all I want -- I cannot escape the buildup of pressure. Pretty soon, neither toss nor turn could hold me back from flinging off my blanket in frustration and proclaiming dissatisfaction with my bodily functions. “Fiiiiine!” I cry out, wincing at the sound of my own voice in the small, mostly empty room before rolling off the couch, hooves annoyingly clattering as they hit floor. All the while, I’m glaring at my backside. Turning into the hallway, I see the door to the first floor bathroom, and just as I am about to turn that way, it strikes me that I forgot to stock up on toilet paper. Which, because I’ve been pretty much trapped in the living room for all of last week, the only bathroom in this house that has what I need is upstairs. “Fiiiiine!” I mutter under my breath, facehoofing before making my way up the stairs. Looking at the door, I see the yellow post-it note that I left for myself reminding me to ‘Take off your overwear, H.B.!’ I glower at it and once more make an exaggerated face. “Yeah, OK!” I snort at the innocent, little scrap of paper. “Fiiiiiiiiiiine!” I rasp exasperatedly before entering the bathroom to do my business. ============================================================= After finishing up and washing my hooves, I walk back towards the infernal staircase. A part of me wanted to, once again, face off with the demon of going forwards -- the proper way -- down the... dizzying... Downward rows of madness! “Gah! Nope!” I squeak out as my backside makes a sharp, swishing turn such that I was facing the stairs backward. “You’re just getting over a cold, H.B. No sense in exploring the joys of vertigo!” Well, it wasn’t real vertigo, but it was still something akin to it. I don’t know why I haven't talked to some individual from Hammer and Nail about making that dumbwaiter into a pony-elevator yet. Finally, downstairs and in the living room, I roll back into the mildly warm, soft, safety of my couch-and-blanket wrap. “Aaaah,” I contentedly coo. “Much better. Now, where was I?” Half jokingly, I tap my chin. “Oh yeah!” I exclaim. “Somewhere between ‘A’ and ‘Z’, emphasis on the ‘Z’.” “Yup, back to sleep!” I just need to adjust my position a little. “‘Cause you have to focus on—” I let out a forced yawn, “— getting better.” Just then, I hear something that interferes with my attempt to get back to sleep. Tick! Tick! Tick! Great. I can actually hear that. Must be getting over this... cold. Granted, there have always been little noises that bothered me -- from the various honks, whistles, beeps or alarms of work, to the high pitched whine of an old, bulky CRT TV monitor or even the— Tick! “Or even you unevenly spaced clock ticks...” I mutter, curling my pillow over my ears in a desperate attempt to muffle the noise as it bounces around the room. And, for a little while there is relief. However, despite my best efforts to shut off my brain, relax and just go back to sleep... ...Sleep just isn’t coming. “Son of a glitch,” Is glitch better than ‘itch’? Either one sounds like a pathetic excuse for the real deal and -- Ugh! Coughing! Need to cough! Most likely due to all the tossing and turning about! To the side, H.B.! Turn to the side! After some deep, throaty coughs that seem to last for an eternity, I’m finally greeted with a disgusting reward clinging to the back of my throat. Lucky for me, there’s still a mess of tissues on the table. “Yes, thank you very much body for reminding me of my current state of health,” I comment, disposing of the foulness before laying back down. “Right. That was fun, is there anything else that is physically exhausting that you want to do today?” And just like that, my brain kicks into super smart-arse mode and starts to produce a list of things that I could be doing instead of just laying here. “Like taking out the garbage! Or maybe trying to do the dishes! Or exploring the garden and tilling it like you said you might try to, or actually washing your overwear—” Rolling my eyes and covering my mouth, I stop the stream of consciousness from pouring out any further in that irritatingly, annoying, dopy voice that I swear my mother used to use on me. “Yeah, I could do all of those things,” I finally admit, staring down at my hooves, “but then I would find myself completely failing because of you hunks of useless keratinattached to my arms!” “Fetting fet-fet!” I whisper, wincing in pain and covering my ears as I suddenly remember, ‘Oh yeah, this room has an echo to it.’ “H.B., you’ve got to get something to dampen that sound. Maybe, like, some more blankets to hang or... I don’t know...” Skitter! “Hold up,” I open my eyes and look to my left, “that doesn’t sound like a ticking clock.” I pause, unsure of what I heard or if I did- Skitter-skitter! There it is again! Stupid ears! They keep moving of their own accord and seem to be heightening my irritation with small noises. Peeking out from behind my arm, I attempt to deduce the source of this new sound. I’m pretty sure that it came from the right and above me, but I’m not sure exactly where- Skitter-skitter-skitter! I see something in the quazi-ornate blue wallpaper pattern move. Wait. Did it move? I’m not sure. My eyes haven’t always been the greatest and I needed glasses when I was in my teens, but if there was one thing that I was always good at, it was picking out those little details that just didn’t belong. Narrowing my gaze on that little area, the thing on my wall comes into a bit of a sharper focus. What is that? It’s fluffy, so maybe a dust bunny? A bit of cotton? Part of a blanket? Don’t be stupid, H.B. All those things don’t make skittering noises. Oh, shit! It has little red eyes! Our pale blue spot on the wall visibly shudders and I chuckle as I suddenly recognize what it is (or what it could be at least). “Well,” I begin, leaning forward and gently blowing upward, “hello there, little spider.” The fuzzy, blue critter turns and looks at me. It braces itself against the subtle breeze that suddenly comes its way and its cartoonish body language seems to evoke a feeling of shock that I was actually able to see it amongst the modeled pattern in the wall. Yeah, most ponies... people... Most people would be freaking out over the random spider in their house. But not me. I like spiders. Rolling over on my back, I scoot into a much more comfortable position before reaching up with a hoof towards the tiny arachnid. “Heh, have you come to keep me company?” I inquire with a goofy smirk on my face. The little spider raises its body up and then back down as if to ask, 'Are you talking to me?' All the while those furry, little front mandibles it has twitch back and forth. “I don’t see any other spiders here. So yeah, I’m talkin’ to you,” I reach further forwards in its direction before tapping my hoof gently on the wall. The eight-eyed ball of fluff reacts as I expect it to; quickly jumping back and making several more twitchy turns. “What’s the matter there, itsy-bitsy? You scared of the big bad Heartbreak?” I ask teasingly before correcting myself, “I mean, ‘the big bad H.BEEEE!’” A girly shriek escapes me! The little spider zooms towards the tip of my hoof like a blue blur.“Oh,” I squeak out with a nervous laugh. “What do you think you’re doooooOOING?!” A second shriek as the little fluff-ball leaps onto my hoof. “Whoa...” I gasp, seeing it up close it doesn’t seem so little. Slowly, I move my hoof away from the wall and -- like the idiot I am -- closer to my face, “you... you are much bigger than most jumping spiders I’ve seen before.” The bold jumping spiders back home in Minnesota were about the size of a pea; but, this sad-faced spider -- is that what Fluttershy called them? I’m having trouble remembering that whole conversation, now -- has got to be at least the size of a marble. I turn my hoof in detached fascination with the creature, while it continues walking around to keep me constantly in its visual range. Strange. It’s staying on my hoof... Guess that’s because I’m not trying to hold it on the bottom or whatever. “You are even more adorable up close,” I compliment. The spider makes a little bowing gesture as if it were embarrassed to be complimented. “C-can you understand me?” I ask, tilting my head. Fuck, H.B. don’t act so surprised if it can! Most creatures here in Equestria possess a great deal closer to human intelligence than their ‘real world’ counterparts! Then again, given how some people acted back home, that was a low standard. The spider jumps in place and wriggles at me. “Uhm, kay, how about this...” I want to make absolutely sure here. “Wave two of your front legs in the air if you understand what I am saying...” And much to my surprise, the spider does exactly what I request of it. “Whoa.” I slowly shift my body so that I’m laying on my stomach. I make a small bridge between my hooves by tapping them together. All the while, the spider is easily adapting to my new positioning. “So, ummm,” Fet, what would you say to a sapient spider? I mean, other than, ‘Please don’t trick me into your webs for later consumption’? “Uhm, wanna hear about a dream I had last night?” ============================================================= Fluttershy walked out of her cottage to be greeted by the wonders of the mid-summer morning: the smell of the dew as it evaporated off the grass, the dazzling spectacle of the hummingbirds vying for position against bejeweled butterflies at the trumpets of fragrant honeysuckles, and the sweet melodious sounds of Grellop’s Lark as he warbled a song which seemed to usher in the beginnings of all things bright and new. “What a beautiful day,” Fluttershy murmured taking a deep breath of the sweetened, dewy summer air. No sooner had she said that then, down the dirt path and a little past the birdhouse tree, she spotted something that could be a dark cloud on the horizon. Her mailbox. Or more aptly: the junk mail that had the box stuffed to bursting. “My goodness,” she said covering her mouth and looking away from the shameful sight, “with how busy I’ve been I must have forgotten to check it.” She sighed before quickly ducking back into the cottage to grab her saddle bags. The coupons for deals on pet food and other products are sometimes useful, but all that paper! So many trees that could have been or were perfectly good homes for countless animals! She thought, beginning the arduous task of cleaning up the utter mess that yesterday’s mail pony had made. The sound of a snapping twig from behind the diminutive mare caused her to jump with a yelp. In turn; the letters in her mouth flew up, into the air, and fluttered down. Her fright was quickly replaced by confusion as the cloud of letters was caught up in a glowing, light-raspberry aura. “That looks like quite the clutter to sort through,” somepony remarked. “Oh!” Fluttershy gasped at the sudden interjection, only to realize that she recognized the voice. Looking to her left, she was overcome with joy. “Twilight!” she shouted, unable to contain herself, as she’d seen neither hide nor hair of this pony in a while. The purple unicorn smiled from where she stood on the path. Though her face was weary and bags hung beneath her eyes; her delight from meeting up with one of her friends was evident. “Hey Fluttershy, sorry I startled you,” She said, holding her hoof to her mouth to cover a rather large yawn. Twilight could see concern growing on Fluttershy’s face and leaned over to check her reflection in the gurgling creek. She was a sight. Her mane was standing up where she had been leaning against the train window. She laughed at herself and attempted to reassure her friend, “I just got back from Canterlot and slept on the train. Still kind of waking up.” “It’s ok,” Fluttershy sheepishly smiled while looking at the levitating papers surrounding her. “Uh, thanks for helping me with... This. ” “Don’t mention it,” the frazzled, purple-maned unicorn replied. She quickly sorted the mail and neatly slid it into the pockets of Fluttershy’s saddlebags. Twilight smiled at her handywork. “With all the research I did this past month;  it feels good to organize something that isn’t a book or scroll.” Fluttershy blinked, “Has it been a whole month already?” “Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself,” Twilight replied, rolling her eyes. After a short silence, Fluttershy asked, “did you find anything?” Twilight hung her head in defeat. “Turns out that not even the great Canterlot Library has anything regarding cursed marks or even the exact origins of cutie marks themselves. Unfortunately, any book about cursed symbols will naturally contain those symbols and is, itself, cursed. The confounded things usually have a half-life of a few years before catching fire, exploding, or spontaneously changing into things that can't be read! Nothing in the surviving books. Nothing in the open catalogue. Nothing in the royal archive -- at least the parts that I'm allowed access to... Lots of conjecture, but nothing solid.” “Oh,” Fluttershy replied, her ears falling low. Seeing Twilight struggling after putting so much effort into something was causing her sympathy pains.  “So, you didn’t learn anything at all?” she asked, hoping that showing interest would raise her friend’s spirits. “Oh, I learned a few things alright,” Twilight replied, taking a deep breath, “just not the things I was expecting to.” ============================================================= A small blue spider sat upon a bridge made from two clasped hooves. Seven legs touching the pony-like creature and one placed firmly on a long, imperceptible strand of silken web. The spider had been sat there for some time, trapped in a one-sided conversation with the creature. Its eight eyes -- two big, two small, and four which could hardly be seen at all -- darted around the room, restlessly observing the intricate network of webs that fed information into the attic. How it longed to be back there! Instead, it was stuck upon those tiresome hooves, waiting for its chance to escape. “...And that’s when that fetting filly named Pearly White dumped the responsibility of looking after the class hamster on me!  Seriously, for being a recurring figment of my imagination, I would sure like to...” Eugh! It had been like this for hours. Throughout the deluge of tedious exposition; the spider had, for the most part, remained stationary. However, in an instant, the leg that was desperately clinging to the communication thread -- a life-line of silk if you will -- began to jostle and vibrate with a terrible, frantic vigor. Not that Heartbreak had noticed. Such frenetic movements might be overwhelming to a sad-faced spider, but to all other creatures the jarring of the webs may as well be nothing. Indeed, no pony could know that the vibration of these lines carry a such vast plethora of information! But, if by chance, one were to be able to understand the various twitches, jerks, jostles, and vibrations of these strands, then perhaps the conversation, between Queen and drone, might sound a little something like this: “My Queen! My Queen! My Queeeeen!” “Yes, Lesser One?” “My Queen, yes, this Lesser One wishes to know the reason it is continuing to transmit the Webless One’s nocturnal reminiscing.” “To understand the Webless One better.” “Why, My Queen?” “For the same reason that our cousins learn about the amphibious creatures they keep in their burrows. The Webless One keeps the Colony safe.” “Oh.” “...And then what happens?” Heartbreak continued, “She blames me for the little bugger’s over-feeding! I wasn’t the one who left the box of hamster nibbles near the cage! But did that fetting teacher listen to me? Nooooo! Just because H.B. can’t ‘speak up’, then that must mean that they don’t have anything important to say! I swear...” “My Queen! My Queen! My Queeeeen!” “Yes, Lesser One?” “This Lesser One wishes to know how much longer it must listen to the Webless One? This Lesser One wishes to forage with the Colony. And the strange hole within the Webless One’s forelimb is making this Lesser One very uneasy!” It paused, and for a moment stared into that gaping abyss before shuddering and forcing itself to look away. “Very uneasy indeed!” “For as long as the Webless One continues to speak. Each conversation, each interaction, each expression, brings us new insights into what they are, how they came to be, and why they continue on, despite being Webless.” “...I wonder what, if anything, these dreams mean, ya know? I mean, they’re recurring dreams. Well, recurring characters, at least, so maybe they mean something. I ought to think that they do. Is Pearly some sort of repressed memory of a bully that I’ve long forgotten? Or are they symbolic? It’s strange, I swear that I have had dreams, or at the very least, used to have dreams where the things in my dreams actually happened in the real world. And then I would be like ‘Whoa, didn’t I just dream about that?’ But then I would be like ‘Naaaah, that was just a dream!’ Besides, I’ve never had a dream where I was changed into, well, this!...” “My Queen! My Qu-” “Yes?! What. Is. It? Lesser. One? Your Queen still has to direct the Colony!” “If it would please My Queen, this Lesser One wishes to sacrifice itself to you before the sacrifice of The Great Winter Slumber, that you, My Queen may spare this Lesser One any more-” Just then, the Webless One stopped speaking and their face began to grow closer and closer. Soon they were so close, the Lesser One could feel their breath flow over its body follicles. With their strange, almost-hollow eyes, they intensely looked down at the small spider. “You sure are a good listener, you know? And awfully cute to boot!” They intoned. “I ought to give you a name. And I think I know the perfect one. Fet, what was the name of that...” They looked thoughtful as they trailed off for a moment. Or as thoughtful as a spider could recognize. “Lucas! That’s what it was. Lucas. I’m going to call you Lucas. So anyway, Lucas...” “While the offer that you have proposed is... tempting; did my strands just pick up the words ‘name’ and ‘Lucas’?” “Y-yes, my Queen?” “Well, it would appear then that the Webless One has named you. From your Queen’s experience in the Art of Luring, ponies and creatures pretending to be ponies, do not like it if the things they have an attachment to either go missing or die. Permission to sacrifice yourself denied. Continue gathering information for your Queen, Lucas.” If the little spider, recently named Lucas, could scream (much like their Queen could); in that moment, that’s exactly what it would do. ============================================================= “I’m sorry to dump that on you, Fluttershy,” Twilight said, turning away, “it’s just been a really long month with very little progress.” “It’s alright, Twilight. It sounds like you were carrying a lot, especially with what happened with the Princess.” Fluttershy gave her friend a soft smile and tilted her head cutely. She offered as a concession, “at least you’re back here with your friends.” “Yeah, about that...” Twilight lightly chuckled before scratching the side of her face nervously, “...I’m afraid that I had only planned on staying in Ponyville long enough to catch up with you girls and see how H.B. is progressing. Speaking of which, has she chosen a teacher for this month?” “I don’t think so,” Fluttershy replied, watching a pair of swallows swoop by. “she’s been rather busy herself.” “Busy?” Twilight asked, “doing what?” “Oh,” Fluttershy began apprehensively. “Being sick?” she squeaked out. “Sick?” Twilight asked, a tinge of concern tainting her voice. “Y-yes,” Fluttershy replied quietly, “according to the doctors at the hospital, she might have picked something-” she paused, “-well, lots of somethings up while spending time with the Summer Readers.” “She had to go to the hospital!?” Twilight yelled, her exasperation mounting. “But!” Fluttershy interrupted, attempting to calm her clearly already-stressed-out friend, “she’s doing much better after she got all her shots from Robin--” “--Robin?” Twilight asked, drawing a blank as she attempted to recall any of the hospital staff that she knew off the top of her head. Fluttershy let out a small giggle and waved her hoof. “Sorry, Nurse Goodfilly. She wanted me to call her Robin. Anyway, after that and a few days worth of rest she’s doing much better.” “That’s good to hear,” Twilight replied, letting out her distress with a drawn-out sigh, “with hospitals and doctors involved, I would have expected kicking and screaming the whole way there.” “Well, she wasn’t too happy with me taking her to the hospital,” Fluttershy explained, “but with the state that she was in...” She paused for a moment, clearly struggling to find her words. “...You had to make an an executive decision?” “Well,” Fluttershy began softly, “I wouldn't call it that.” She took a deep breath and quietly let it out before continuing, “But yes. Even if she was very vocal about how much she doesn’t like doctors.” “Of course she doesn’t,” Twilight sputtered. She gave a melodramatic eye-roll, not at all surprised that Heartbreak would be against those whose very profession it was to help her. “No chance she was willing to give an explanation as to why that was?” she asked sarcastically. “Actually,” Fluttershy tapped her chin, “The morning after she got her shots, she explained exactly why.” “Really?” Twilight asked bemused. Fluttershy nodded. “Yes, really.” Twilight found herself caught off guard by the very idea of Heartbreak willingly sharing any information about herself, let alone the reasons behind her actions. “Wait, really?” “Yes, really,” Fluttershy repeated, not missing a beat, “it turns out that it has to do with the doctors that she had while growing up mislabeling her with various mental problems,” She hoofed at the ground. “not to mention the psychologists she had while in the military.” Twilight looked at her friend bewildered. “And she just... told you all this? Willingly?” “Well, she was sick... and I had stayed at her house all night when she asked me to,” Fluttershy rubbed her foreleg, recalling how Heartbreak ensnared her that night. “Well, it was more that she insisted I stay.” “Hmm,” Twilight tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Fluttershy...” “Uhm, yes?” “...You don’t suppose that you could take on the ‘teacher’ role for this month while I’m at the Crystal Library?” Twilight asked, “I mean, seeing that you are still helping her recover?” “Well, uh...” Fluttershy hesitated. The thought of how looking after Heartbreak for just the past few days had impacted her normal caretaking duties crept into her mind, but then she saw Twilight’s expectant expression and bit her lip. “...As long as it doesn’t interfere with tending to the animals, I suppose I could do that.” “Great! Thank you so much!” Twilight beamed while taking out a scroll and quill to check something off a list. “Ahh,” she cooed, “it feels so nice to get at least one thing done... So-” She began putting the two things back into her saddlebags. “Has there been anything else that I’ve missed while I was--” Twilight found her words cut short as she felt something slam into her side. “Twilight!!” a sobbing blur of green and purple joyfully exclaimed, “there you are!” “Oh, hey Spike!” Twilight happily replied once she regained her wits. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” Spike said hugging tighter, “I was going to meet you at the train station earlier, but I overslept!” He looked up at her with large, tearful dragon eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?” “Of course I can,” Twilight replied with a chuckle, smirking at her little assistant’s over dramatization, “I did send that scroll at, like -- what? --three-fourteen this morning?” “Uh, yeah. Somewhere around that time,” Spike replied scratching his head, trying to recall when it was. “Anyway, I could really use your help with something at the library!” His face hardened as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Apparently, a couple of the books that were ordered can only be handled by the pony of the library.” His indignation was interrupted by a quiet cough coming from behind Twilight. “Oh! Hey, Fluttershy!” “Hi, Spike,” she quietly replied, smiling at the little dragon. “Oh, geez, were you two having a conversation?” he asked, his frills going down embarrassedly. “I’m sorry, it can wait, I mean-” Fluttershy was happy to see that she wasn’t the only one who had missed Twilight. “It’s alright, Spike.” Twilight looked over at the Ponyville clock. “We’ve got plenty of time to finish up this conversation later, right?” she asked the nervous-looking pegasus. “Oh, uhm yes,” Fluttershy replied, “that is if you have the time to.” “I’m sure that I will,” Twilight said, adjusting her saddlebags and starting towards the road to Ponyville, “thanks again for agreeing to teach H.B. this month. Just remember, If things get difficult, feel free to ask for advice.” She let out a chuckle. Spike began to waddle towards town ahead of Twilight. “Oh, uhm, You’re welcome,“ Fluttershy replied before heading back to her cottage with the mail. “Not that you’ll need it, but good luck!” Twilight called. “Uh, thank you?” Fluttershy whispered quizzically under her breath. She gave a final wave and retreated inside. Twilight returned her friend’s wave before trotting to catch up with Spike. “Now, what was this ‘pony only’ book about?”