Chapter 2: Fleur de Pants
In all honesty, he had expected that some of his friends and family would call upon others to help him out with his request. In this case, it had been his own mother, Celestia, calling both Fancy Pants and his lovely and charming wife Fleur de Lis a mere three days after his training with Shining Armor had been completed.
After he rested and slept like a log for an entire day Spike had seen himself in the mirror and for the first time ever, he believed he actually looked good. Better than good. He looked… fit. Powerful. And he felt right about it but knew this was only the starting point of his path and there was a long way to go. Who knows what else his friends could teach him?
“My word, Spike my boy, is that really you?”
Spike turned to see the prim and proper stallion he met so long ago when he was but a hatchling. His perfectly kept mustache curled into a smile as he approached him with open arms. Behind him walked his wife looking him with wide eyes.
“Fancy!” Spike greeted the white-coated stallion meeting him with a hug of his own; effortlessly lifting him up a little. “It’s good to see you again!”
“I’d say!” Fancy replied with a laugh. “Look at you. When Princess Celestia informed me you went to take the Royal Guard training course I could hardly believe it. My boy, it seems you passed with flying colors!”
“Hello, Spike,” Fleur greeted taking her chance to grab Spike’s chin and plant a firm kiss on his cheek. “I agree with my husband; you don’t look like the dragon I danced with during the Gala.”
Spike blushed a little. Fleur was very affectionate and incredibly caring with him though he didn’t understand the full reason as to why. He had fond memories of her teaching him how to dance, started giving him his finer lesson in writing, though big words were always difficult for him, and was endlessly loving towards him, kinda like Cadance, but more. In a way, Fleur was like a cousin or sister or a mix of both to him. So, he didn’t feel any hesitance or shame when he returned the kiss with one of his own and a tight hug.
“Fleur!” Spike nuzzled her a little, then he ended the hug to stand in front of both ponies. “I only passed the physical part of the training. The other graduates are now studying the rules, logistics, and conditioning parts. Though I won’t lie, the training was Tartarus.”
Fleur giggled while Fancy laughed like the proper gentlestallion that he is.
“Indeed it is! Come, my boy, Princess Celestia contacted us and told us about your request. We can discuss what we have in mind for you during dinner?”
“But of course!” Spike replied noticing Fleur subtly asked for his arm which he gave a moment later. Soon the trio left with a very happy mare in between her husband and Spike.
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Ballet and fencing.
Spike was going to be taught ballet and fencing by Fleur and Fancy respectively. And as such, he was finishing putting on the fencing suit Fancy had made weeks ago for him.
He couldn’t understand why oh why would they teach him ballet and fencing of all things? He already knew ballet when he practiced with Twilight when they lived in the castle and he was very good at it, too. Heck, he even practiced from time to time because he enjoyed it. But he knew next to nothing about fencing, which he explained during dinner last night.
Even though he didn’t understand why he had to learn fencing and increase his skill in battle, he didn’t complain nor he would be found lacking in his effort. He wouldn’t question their reasoning or their motives. Spike had just put on the mask when Fancy tapped his shoulder.
“Here, my boy,” he said handing him a high-end sabre of exceptional quality. “For now, I will teach you the basic stances and positions. Then we will move to steps and the proper handling of the sabre, understood?”
Spike was a bit surprised to hear the usually soft-spoken stallion sound so serious but nevertheless, he nodded and took hold of the grip. They both walked to the center of the training room with Fancy standing a meter or so in front of him.
“First, I will show you the first three basic sabre stances, you will imitate me,” Fancy said before taking a slightly crouched defensive position: right leg forward; left leg behind for support tilted to the side and better center of gravity, which was further supported by his left arm lifted a little behind his middle-line in a V-shaped form, his hand doing a half-fist or simulating he was holding some kind of bottle or round object. The right hand, however, was in front of him, angled but upright, his hand angled is such a way that the sabre Fancy was carrying faced down.
It took Spike a few seconds to realize something that was painfully clear once he saw it: Fancy had no openings, his center of gravity was well protected, his balance impeccable and, in his position, he could either defend or attack with ease. Shaking his head, Spike clumsily imitated his friend’s stance, finding it a lot harder to do than it actually looked.
“This position is known as Pronation Prime, it is the most basic and the first position to learn when sabre fencing. Feel your weight, the weight and balance of the sabre, your own breathing. Find your center of gravity and stand firm, Spike.”
Spike did as told, though that was a bit harder to accomplish. As he slowly adapted and found his ground, something came to mind. “Hey, Fancy, you keep mentioning ‘sabre fencing’, are there different kinds of fencing or something?”
“Indeed so, my boy. There are two others: Foil and Épée. If everything goes as planned, then I will teach you Épée, too.” Fancy smiled. “Good, that’s a good posture. Use your tail to aid you, Spike. Yes, just like that. Now,” Fancy moved his right hand down to his midsection with a semi-open gesture; his sabre pointing slightly downward but firm. “This is Pronation Seconde.”
Unlike the first time, Spike was able to notice the change immediately. Especially how Fancy DIDN’T move an inch outside his right arm. Now his stance left a wide-open spot on his defense, but this was a trap he also noticed. Fancy may have traded his defensive stance for a more aggressive one, but he also gained reach, speed, and forced his opponent into a one-way corridor to attack.
A couple of hours passed and Spike had learned the nine basic positions of sabre fencing. Fancy then ordered him to keep training while he had to go to an urgent meeting. And so, he did. Repeating the process over and over, determined to learn them in full with the same zeal he used during his training with Shining.
By the time Fancy returned a couple of hours later Spike had burned into his memory the stances. The next two hours were spent with Fancy teaching him how to properly balance himself when doing a simple side-step and back-step.
This is going to take a while, Spike thought grinning behind his mask.
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Another day came and surprise met him. Spike thought he would resume his training with Fancy, but instead found Fleur already dressed in her ballet leotard doing light stretching. When she saw him, she immediately levitated his leotard.
Spike put it on. Maybe it was a side-effect from having grown up and being surrounded by mares almost all his life, but he really didn’t understand the whole concept of things being girly or not. He had worn suits, dresses, skirts, baby outfits. You name it, he had worn it. So a leotard was nothing. Not that it mattered. While he could understand the appeal the usually skin-tight clothing was known for, the fact was that they were similar to a set of armor: they outlined your joints, let you know how much and how you could bend and stretch, and most importantly it gave the freedom the body needed.
And again, he was surprised it was tailored to his specifications and even the material was far more accommodating to his scales. He smiled. There was only one mare he knew capable of doing such a thing.
After that, he began stretching and warming up alongside Fleur, both often helping each other when needed and doing small talk in the meantime. When they were done, Fleur voiced a single command: “Show me your best”.
And so he did.
By the Divine Creators, he was so… light. Doing the routine had never been so easy. Each step, each twirl, each jump, each swing of his arms and tail. Everything was far easier now, and not just because of his new size and longer limbs, but he could feel his muscles moving and dancing alongside him now.
Why on Equestria had he stopped dancing for so long again?
With a final leap, spin, and landing with his arms extended above him, he finished.
“C’était magnifique!” Fleur said with a happy squeal. “I knew you had some experience, but I didn’t know you were this good!” Fleur clapped her hands together. “You’re a natural dancer, Spike.”
“Thanks, Fleur,” Spike replied blushing a little from the praise. “I always enjoyed the ballet lessons more than Twilight ever did. She’s pretty good herself, but she’s an awful regular dancer. How is that possible, I don’t have the faintest clue.”
Fleur giggled knowing full well Twilight’s dance ‘moves’. She moved forward to trace her hands over Spike’s body: arms, chest, neck, collarbone, tail, legs, hands, even his ass and groin for a second or two. Not that it mattered, his genitals were secured inside him and he knew Fleur, while flirty, would never be inappropriate. When she was done she looked at him with a small frown.
“Strange…,” Fleur hummed. “Spike… your muscles are… I don’t know how to say this. But your muscles, your whole physique is powerful, but that’s a natural given since you’re a dragon, but compared to other dragons, and even with the Royal Guard course, I believe you are… strong but not in brute strength alone. Your body is far more mobile, agile, nimble, and resilient than other dragons I’ve seen. I don’t have another way to say this Spike, but your body is perfectly suited for speed and agility, reach and flexibility, over raw strength.” She smiled broadly. “It has been so long since I’ve had a proper practice partner! You already skipped most of what I had planned, so let’s move to what you need: proper control and command! And while we are at it, we shall fix your posture each time you spin!”
Fleur stretched her hands popping a joint before offering her palms to Spike. “Un, deux, trois, Spike! We shall start with the Nutcracker!”
Spike and Fleur danced for hours on end. Both of them happier than ever.
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“Remember: balance is the key. It’s always the key. Lose your balance and you lose the fight. Again. Right hoof, left hoof. Forward. Back. Side. Side. Good, now go even faster and as you move, always keep your eyes on me.”
Spike panted. Fancy was a great teacher, excellent even, but he was relentless. He never gave him a moment of respite, always pushing him, always training; there was never a dull moment, every step, every breath, every single action had meaning and consequence. He began noticing small quips of information, like when Fancy’s muscles tensed, or the brief periods of relaxation in between each step and movement. He began to wonder if that was a happy accident or if that was really the intent of Fancy’s training all along.
“Parry. Parry. Thrust. Parry. Side. Good!” Fancy gave out the orders and Spike followed. “When you parry you have to decide if you are going to divert the flow or endure it. If possible, divert it. You’ll save your strength for when you counter-attack, and when you do, pull your entire body into the attack!” He said lunging with a mid-section thrust and Spike was able to parry it to the side without orders. “Excellent. You are progressing greatly, my boy.”
Spike grunted back in response, unable to properly reply due to the continued attacks from Fancy.
By now two weeks had passed since he started his training. One day he would train with Fancy and the next with Fleur. His training with Fleur was his favorite and with each session, his control over his own body increased as well as his own agility. Meanwhile, his training with Fancy was harsher, harder, but good in its own way. At first, after he mastered the basic steps, positions, and stances they began doing small practice battles with Fancy dictating every command, stance, and action. A week ago he couldn’t for the life of him parry correctly when ordered, now he was able to parry by reflex most of the time.
The previous class Spike noticed something he had been neglecting: his body. So far he had been imitating Fancy, but after he decided to adapt the stances to his own body things have turned easier for him. Of course! How could he forget he had a damn tail even after Fancy constantly reminding him of it!? Fancy had a perfect stance and balance due to years of training.
But I have a tail, Spike realized. His center of gravity could shift ever so slightly, his balance could be better handled and defended. And once he started using it he saw a firm and ample smile appear on Fancy’s face.
That didn’t make Fancy any easier though. If anything, it made the stallion press him further.
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“I can use ballet in battle?” Spike asked incredulously.
“Of course, it’s really a matter of how to utilize them. I myself have never used them as such, but I have seen colleagues do so. They won’t work in every kind of fight, but against disarmed opponents, it is highly effective.”
“So, like, using it like martial arts?”
“No, no dearie. Ballet is a thing of beauty, not battle, but you can use it for battle.”
“Oh… oh! Like, integrating it to other forms!”
Fleur nodded. “Exactly.”
“But in fencing would be useless, right?”
“Very much so, yes. But that doesn’t mean that what you have honed,” she said touching his forearm. “Can’t be used. Think about it. Why not use your reach and flexibility to your advantage?”
Spike sipped his tea, thinking deeply about what Fleur said.
“Use them to my advantage…” He whispered.
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Spike parried another blow, stepped back and took a Sixte stance, his favorite by far. He then lunged, feinting two attacks before thrusting for Fancy’s chest. The stallion replied with a disengage, two feints of his own, and a compound attack which Spike again parried.
After the third week, his training with Fleur changed to one out of three days while his training with Fancy intensified. Now, at the end of the fifth week, they could battle without instructions and freely. Spike had learned to use his peripheral vision, how to breathe properly, how to judge the distance between him and his opponent, and his reflexes sharply improved. Fancy had also started teaching him Épée fencing, and while it was good and helped to further improve his wrist moves, they both preferred sabre fencing overall.
On the sidelines stood Fleur who had taken a liking to watch them fencing. So far, Spike had won a grand total of zero of their matches, but with each one he grew faster, more cunning, more perceptive than the last.
With a feint attack followed by a point-in-line when Fancy lunged gave Spike the opening he needed for a solid attack to the side. After contact, Fancy moved back with a disengage which much to his surprise was parried by Spike and immediately follow suit with a riposte, earning a second strike and with it, victory.
“Spike wins!” Fleur chanted happily.
“Good show, my boy!” Fancy congratulated.
“I actually won!” Spike cheered to himself, dropping his sabre and hugging the stallion.
“Great job, Spike. With this, now you know how an Honour Duel fight goes and plays out.”
Spike let Fancy go, confused. “H-Honour Duel? You mean to tell me… that wasn’t real fencing?”
“Not at all, my boy, that IS fencing. But not fighting. But at this point, I think you figured out what I was actually trying to teach you, no?” Fancy took off his mask revealing a gentle smile.
Spike nodded. “Balance. Center of Gravity. Using my body to my advantage. Reading my opponent’s moves. Creating opportunities for an attack. Use of peripheral vision. And the measure of distances.”
“Indeed so, my boy.”
“Honey, why don’t you show him?” Fleur asked with a gentle smile.
Fancy blushed a little but nodded. “Promise you won’t laugh?” He asked looking at Spike.
“Of course not,” Spike said taking a step back. Fancy moved closer to the nearby dummy taking a Septime stance. Or it looked like the Septime stance. The stance was firmer, more straight, and… deadlier? He could see Fancy taking shallow, slow breaths, eyes close, and focused. Before Spike could ask Fleur what was going on, Fancy opened his eyes and Spike could swear he saw a fire in his eyes.
“SILVER CHARIOT!” Fancy shouted, took a simple step forward and--
Spike’s eyes went wide and his mouth went agape. He could barely see the flurry of attacks Fancy was showering the dummy with. He could better see the impacts the sabre made on the dummy. Seconds later Fancy leaped, LEAPED, did a mid-term twirl and delivered a final strike against the dummy tearing it from its support base and sending it crashing against the wall behind it, making it crack.
Fancy landed, let out a small breath, and stood straight holding himself with great poise. He then turned to the astonished Spike.
“You’d be surprised how effective shouting an attack is before doing it,” he smiled.
Spike looked at the destroyed dummy.
He could’ve destroyed me at any time… but that move he did…
“Use them to my advantage…” Spike whispered again, eyes glued to the dummy.
End.