Rarity was waiting at the platform for Spike's train to arrive in Ponyville. She'd received the message Spike had sent through Twilight that morning when he'd boarded.
She wondered if she'd ever be able to do something like that.
“Twilight, do you suppose you could teach me to send messages like you and Spike do? I feel like it would help a lot for he and I to be able to stay in touch when one of us is off on business.”
The middling-sized alicorn bounced from side to side as she mulled it over.
“I don't know, Rarity. It takes a lot of magic for a pony to send messages like that. There's a reason I had Spike for that when I first came to Ponyville.”
“Indeed, darling, but what about for a dragon?” Rarity batted her eyes and grinned.
“Oh. Right. I don't know how I keep forgetting about that, given how important it is to you. I really wish I knew more that could help.”
“Don’t fret over it. You don't have to worry about offending me by forgetting minor details. You're a princess with a lot on her plate. I'm just glad you've had time to help me through this last week. And that I have your blessing to pursue a romantic relationship with Spike.”
“As for dragonfire messages, I'm not sure. I'm sadly still the top authority in Equestria on dragons, and I know less about blue dragons in general than we know about draconequus physiology. Still, though the enchantment seems to prefer dragonfire, there's no reason other elemental energies couldn't be substituted, and lightning is the next best thing…
“Speaking of, why haven't I ever seen you spraying lightning? Well, aside from that one time when I tried out Starswirl's spell.”
Rarity sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I thought we agreed to never speak of that again. That was rather distressing for all parties involved, don't you think?”
“Sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
Rarity shifted her weight to a back hoof and looked up into space.
“Well, my mother always taught us that it was impolite to belch lightning in public, and I took that lesson to heart. Besides that, I've always been more gifted with illusions than with lightning. Sweetie Belle got the lion's share of the lightning.”
“Huh. I guess that explains why you never seemed to age a day over twenty-four.”
“That and good genes, darling. Very good genes.” Rarity gave Twilight a grin that by all rights should have been filled with fangs.
Twilight shuddered, but only slightly.
“So, are you going to tell Sweetie Belle?”
“And break with what is apparently a family tradition? Heavens, no!”
Twilight took a stabilizing breath. “As for my ‘blessing’, Rarity, it's not unconditional.
“We've known each other for a long time now. You're one of my best friends, and I trust you with a lot of things.”
The alicorn raised herself to her full, somewhat impressive height. “But I've known Spike longer. He's like— No, he is a little brother to me. I swear on my horn that if you break his heart, if this turns out to be some fad or scheme like your previous so-called romantic pursuits” – Rarity winced, but held her tongue – “I will do everything, and I do mean everything, in my considerable power as an alicorn, as a princess, and as a big sister to make your life absolutely miserable.
“Am I being perfectly clear?” Twilight said as lightning flashed behind her.
“As crystal,” the cowering mildly draconic unicorn replied. “The thunderclouds were a very nice touch.”
“Thanks,” she said, her posture returning to its normal semi-regal cuddliness. “I've been taking lessons from Luna. I meant every word I said, though.
“But if your feelings are sincere, and I'm about ninety-eight percent certain that they are, then I am perfectly okay with it. He's turned down quite a number of very eligible dragonesses over the years, and even a few ponies and changelings. Do you know why?”
The train's brakes squealed as it rolled into the station.
“It's because none of them were you, and my little brother is an irrepressible optimist when it suits him.
Twilight smiled.
“Come on, Rarity, let's welcome the big lug home before somepony tries to steal your drakefriend.”
After a pause, she followed Twilight and said “Yes, let's.”
///)_^_(\\\
“So, Spike, how was your trip? My Grandpa Merc is doing well, I take it?”
Spike still looked nearly as dazed as when he’d first gotten off the train. Something was clearly bothering him, and Rarity was going to find out what.
Twilight had taken her leave after a quick but heartfelt greeting, but not before slipping a sack of bits and a couple of reservations for seats at Gustave le Grande's Chateau de Griffon into Rarity's saddlebags with a none-too-subtle wink.
And so they found themselves in a private, candlelit room in a corner of the restaurant, waiting for their food.
“He, uh, seemed fine when I saw him,” Spike replied. “Very, erm… big.”
He continued to stare down through the table and twiddle his claws.
“He certainly is. I had quite the shock when I discovered that I could stand comfortably in one of his claws. He was just as much of a huggable teddy bear in his true form as he was in his assumed one, though I do wonder why I'd never questioned the scale of the inner parts of his abode.
“But enough about me. You look fit to scurry under a rock. Something is bothering you, Spike, and I refuse to move on until I find out what it is.”
Spike let out a smoke-laced sigh, his shoulders and tail falling slack, and looked back up to the mare of his dreams.
“Your Grandpa Merc, or ‘Mirage’, as he insisted I call him… He gave me a lot to think about…”
///)_^_(\\\
A few days ago
“And now that we've gotten introductions out of the way,” the gargantuan sapphire-scaled drake said, “Let us get down to business. Well, actually –” Mirage craned his sinuous neck forward to get a closer look at him “– what sort of dragon are you, exactly? Your bearing, the budding whiskers, and the smell of sweet smoke on your breath say gold, while the frill and chin spines, as well as the fact that you didn't launch into a long-winded lecture on my ‘wicked ways’ on sight, scream silver.
“I did not think such a hybrid possible,” he said, drawing back, “given the radically different incubation conditions their eggs require. Snow and open flames? I'm unsure how such an egg would hatch, but it would likely take strange magic indeed…”
///)_^_(\\\
“…So yeah, I guess that means you're not the only hybrid at this table.” Spike looked down, only to have an alabaster hoof alight on his claw.
“Darling, I know you're not this bothered over having a mixed heritage, but something about that conversation did trouble you deeply. What was it?”
“Well, uh… it's my parents. I hadn't thought of them, who they might have been, in years. I asked Mirage a little about gold and silver dragons, and he told me that they were mostly ‘noble, do-gooder types’, with the silvers being the less insufferable of the two. They probably met while beating up bad guys or something, fell in love, and…”
“…Had an egg that they didn't know what to do with,” Rarity supplied.
“Yeah. That.”
He paused for a couple of seconds.
“He said that the one thing he really approved of in silvers and golds was how much they cared about their offspring. And I've… They've never come to check up on me, or let me know who they are.” A mineral-rich tear splashed onto the stone table below him. “They never got to know that their son grew up, or who he grew up to be.”
A hoofkerchief wrapped in a blue glow rose to dry his eyes.
“Well, he grew up to be a handsome drake. A savior of empires, and friend to the Princesses. Kind and courteous, and as my Grandpa Merc would say, teehee, ‘noble as Argon’. Whoever they were, your parents would be very proud.”
“Thanks.” He looked up to meet her eyes and smiled. “I'll try to remember that.”
Rarity brought a pastern to her chin in thought. “That does bring up a troublesome problem for us, though. Mother always taught that eggs should always be laid and incubated in warm sand if one wanted healthy foals, but that might not end up being the best for us… What?”
Spike's jaw had dropped, and his eyebrow ridge had reached the stratosphere.
“Well,” Rarity continued, “I know it might seem a little bit early to be talking about foals, wyrmlings, or whatever the proper term is, but it's a very important concern and it was going to come up eventually. Honestly, Spike, I thought you of all people would be more mature about this.”
“You… You lay eggs?”
“Well yes. I'm a mare, not somepony's pet cat. Why, imagine a unicorn giving live birth like…”
And then Rarity's hoof impacted her skull.
“Oh. That's why the Cakes looked so tired at the hospital after their twins hat— were born. I'm terribly sorry, darling. Would you believe it never occurred to me that most ponies didn't hatch from eggs? The alternative just sounds so, eugh, messy,” she said with a shudder. “I suppose that's one reason to be thankful I'm part dragon. It would explain why Twilight pointed to her icebox when I asked where she kept her eggs, though.”
Spike raised a claw and said “So, uh, where do you keep your—”
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Rarity,” Gustave said in the most outrageously Fancy accent imaginable. “Monsieur Spike. Welcome to my humble eatery. I ask zat you please pardon ze wait, but I had to make sure zat ze food was cooked precisely to perfection for zuch esteemed guests.”
“Oh, you flatterer,” Rarity replied. “But I already have a date. There's no need for you to take so much trouble on our behalf.”
“But zat is where you are wrong,” he said as he laid out their meals in front of them. “Any friend of ze Princess is a friend of mine. And she is ze Princess of Friendship, zo I shall ‘ave many friends, non? Hon hon hon!
“Rare pork in red wine sauce for ze lady, and citrine with silica glaze for ze gentledrake. Careful, hot plate!”
Rarity turned to Gustave with a glowing smile.
“Merci, good chef. It is so difficult to find good meat away from home.”
“Yeah,” Spike added. “This food looks delicious!”
“And even 'arder to find zomepony to appreciate it. Merci, Monsieur, Mademoiselle, and bon appetit.”
At that, he bowed, and left them to their meal.
Spike took a sniff, and the tension left his shoulders for a moment.
“That… smells really good,” he said. “Can I have some?”
“Only if you let me have some of your meal,” she replied as she hovered a forkful of pork over to him. “Once it's cooled down a little, of course.”
“It's a deal.”
///)_^_(\\\
The food had been wonderful. Spike had had the occasional bit of meat, and even cooked some himself – an alicorn's appetite is unpredictable at the best of times, and needing to cater to several at once when family would visit meant he needed an ever-expanding repertoire – but he hadn't had much experience with the cuisine of the gryphons of Fance.
“I have to learn to cook like this. Your meal was delicious. It melted in my mouth like a gypsum rose, but was almost as bursting with flavor as fire rubies. Almost.
“Do you think Gustave gives out lessons?”
“Hmm…” Rarity said as she polished off the last of Spike's literally glazed citrine. “I really don't know. Though if you cooked like this all the time, I might have a hard time maintaining my figure. Or wanting to, for that matter.” She let out an entirely ladylike giggle.
A puff of smoke escaped as Spike snorted a laugh of his own. Between the candles and the fire-breathing dragon in the room, it was getting a bit hazy, but neither occupant seemed to mind.
“I promise I would only use these awesome culinary powers for good. I’d still love you if you were the size of an airship, Rarity, but helping you get that way isn't exactly plan A.
“Come to think of it,” Spike said while scratching behind an ear-fin, “how do you stay in shape so well? I mean, I've never seen you hold back at one of Pinkie's parties, and then there's the ice cream binges when you're sad –” and then Spike's eyes went wide on hearing the metaphorical click of a conversational landmine arming underfoot “– Not to say you’re always eating! I just tend to walk in on you at awkward times, or during meals or—”
Rarity calmly rolled her eyes and put a hoof on his claw.
“Relax, darling. What has you so on-edge tonight? It is just the two of us here, after all. Though I might be somewhat miffed if we had company. You were doing mostly fine until the explanation and the backpedaling, by the way.
“As for your question, I do take regular maretial arts classes, and I use a lot of magic in my work, but that's about it. Apart from randomly running off with my friends to save the world, I suppose. I don't know… do dragons burn through a lot more energy than ponies? Maybe it's a dragon thing.”
“Hm. Hard to say. I do eat more than Twilight, at least before her ascension, but I'm also a bit bigger than she was then, too…”
They returned to silence for a while, allowing Spike's brain to amble back to the same subject that had kept him silent for much of the meal.
“Darling, would you please just spit it out? Something has been bothering you all evening, and I won't hear of another diversion.”
Spike released a smoke-laden sigh and slumped to the table. “Well, it's about 'us’, sort of. Mirage and I, we didn't just talk about my probable parentage…”
///)_^_(\\\
“Okay, ya wee little spineless wyrm, I know you're not jus’ here for chit-chat,” the ancient blue dragon said. “You haf designs on me Little Sapphire, don’tcha?”
Startled at the abrupt shift in demeanor and accent, Spike could only slowly nod.
“Lookin’ ta get me blessin’ on them, nay?”
After a second more's struggle, Spike found his voice again. “Please?”
At which point the cavernous mansion echoed with Mirage's cruel laughter.
“Aye, you're a metalhead through and through, ain’tcha? So get this fact through your leaden skull: You canae have me blessing,” he hissed, lightning crackling at his mouth and horn, “and my Little Sapphire may do as she pleases.
“Now get outta me sight afore I fry ya!”
///)_^_(\\\
“So that's what he said, accent and all?” Rarity said, pensive. “My… he usually saves that for special occasions.”
During the tale, an adorable little dragon waitress had cleared away their places and left them an almost reasonable bill.
“Yeah, he… didn't seem to like the idea much. I'm sorry, Rarity. Tonight has been wonderful, but it wouldn't be very noble of me to come between you and your family,” he said, eyes downcast as he reached for the check. “I hope that you can find someone to make you the happiest mare in the world, someday.”
Rarity snapped the check out of Spike's claws with her telekinesis, pulled out a sack of gems, and doled out enough of them to cover the meal plus an extravagant tip.
“Oh, Spike, I already have.”
“But, I was going to… The bits Twilight slipped you…”
“She'll get them back. The dear means well and I love her to death, but she still has a lot to learn about making gestures.
“Spike, allow me to make something crystal clear: I took you to this restaurant. I footed the bill. I want this, and I want you. Nopony and nodragon else will do. My mind is already made up.
“Now my dear Grandpa Merc has always been an insidious old goat, and we love him for it. When he told you ‘my Little Sapphire may do as she pleases’, what I heard was ‘Rarity, my dear, you have carte blanche to pursue that handsome drake to the ends of the earth. With a club and a sack, if necessary.’”
She got up from her seat and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “You're not going to make me get the sack, are you, darling?”
Spike wasn't quite certain how to feel about the implied threat of kidnapping, at least when coming from someone who was ostensibly a very proper pony. However, he decided it was a decidedly draconic thing to say, and that he was okay with that.
And so he wrapped an arm and a wing around her, and they both leaned in for a fiery, electrical kiss.