“He’s been like that all evening,” Spyro noted, as he and his mate peered into Spike’s room their heads just barely visible from behind the doorway. On his bed, Spike lay staring directly up into the ceiling. “...Yep, he’s in love alright. Oh, he’s grown up so fast…”
“I… I know,” Cynder whispered. “And I’m not entirely sure if I’m happy about any of that…”
“He’ll always be your little boy, you know that right Cyn?” Spyro said. “Like, he’ll always be our kid. He’s just… well, he’s starting to forge his own life now. We knew it had to happen eventually, Spike having to grow up and leave the nest. Now, while he’s still living with us, that day will come.”
“Oh, look at me,” Cynder muttered to herself as they walked down the hallways, the cold stone beneath their claws. “I’ve gone all soft. Guess what they say is true, becoming a mother… it changes you.”
“And this is a bad thing?” Spyro asked. Cynder gave him a warning look.
“What, are you saying you didn’t like me before I became a mom?” she asked dangerously.
“No, no!” Spyro stammered out quickly backtracking and reconsidering his next words. “It’s just… well, yeah you were a perfectly fine dragoness before Spike came into our life. I mean, you were a badass Peace Keeper and a gnorc’s worst nightmare -besides myself, of course- but as soon as Spike arrived something seemed to ignite in you. Something new, really. I can’t quite put my finger on what exactly but…”
“...Yeah, I get what you mean,” Cynder murmured to herself. “It was now I had something new to live for. I had a son to protect, not just a mate or an entire country. I had a son. It was like… bliss, really if you forgive me for getting poetic. I had a new mouth to feed, someone new to care for and I didn’t care what happened to me or my reputation as long as my son was happy and healthy. That was all that mattered.”
“Happy and healthy huh?” Spyro said before chuckling. “...Hey, you remember when…?”
“When Spike was sick with Dragon Fever?” Cynder whispered. “...Yeah, I do. That was our first real test as parents, wasn’t it?”
It had been several months before, just after Spike had accepted Spyro and Cynder as his new family. It was around midnight, with Spike sound asleep in his bed. A small puddle of saliva dripped down onto the floor from the young drake’s maw. His wings drooped to the floor, draped across the bed. His eyes shot open, as he rolled around in his bed unable to fall back to sleep. It had been like this all throughout the night really. Just when Spike thought he’d be able to fall back to sleep, and he usually did for about an hour or two he awoke to a searing migraine and a pain in his stomach.
“Mom… Dad…?” Spike’s voice was much more raspier and lashed than it had usually been. The fever had gotten to him in more ways than one, it seemed. “Is this stuff gonna last forever?”
“No, it won’t kiddo,” Spyro said. He had elected to perch himself at the foot of his son’s bed just to keep an eye on him. He had his suspicions that this was more than just a simple fever that would blow over in a couple of days. “Trust me, it won’t. You feel like you’re going to throw up son?”
“Kinda.” Spike hacked and spluttered once more, his every single motion causing Spyro to flinch and retract his wings. “It’s… it’s well it’s like I want to, and I don’t want to, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know kid. I do,” Spyro said letting out a small little yawn. He gently nudged a bucket towards Spike. “Well, if you feel you have to…”
As he said that, Spike did indeed hurl. Throwing up a stream of green, orange, and slightly yellow mucus, landing all over the ground by Spyro’s feet. After which, he could only moan and cough a tad more as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Spyro for his part looked unfazed, and went to the bathroom before grabbing a soft towelette running some cold water over it. Next, he returned and placed it over Spike’s forehead.
“Hey, it’s okay…” Spyro whispered. “Now, what did I say?”
“That… that it’ll pass?” Spike coughed out, before retching and tossing more mucus into the bucket. “...Oh, it hurts…”
“I know it does kid,” Spyro said feeling utterly helpless at the moment. There really wasn’t much he could do right now, aside from helping Spike get through the night and helping him wait this out. “But c’mon son, you’re stronger than this thing. It’s just a bug really, you can power on through this. I know you can!”
“If it makes you feel any better, I had Dragon Fever myself when I was young. It was… yeah, it was pretty sucky, let me tell you that,” Spyro sighed as he reflected on his past. He chuckled, it had been such a pain to deal with. Nestor had probably been feeling the exact same way as he was right now, pretty much next to useless. “But there’s nothing that I could have done back when I was small. I just had to wait, power on through everything and just let the others help me as best as they could.”
“What’s… what’s that supposed to mean?” Spike snorted. “That I’m supposed to just sit back and do jack squat? Is that it?”
Spyro would let it pass, he couldn’t blame his son for being in such a bad mood right now. Dragon Fever was… not fun to deal with. Spike was lucky the rashes hadn’t seem to set in. Those were the real ‘fun’. Dragons with the rashes were often forced to scratch hard enough to break through their scales, and quite often drew blood. There was a cream to help deal with this. He’d have to check and see if they had any in the medicine cabinet.
“My point is,” Spyro continued. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. I mean, it’s not just kids who have to deal with it. It affects dragons of any age really. Young or old.”
“A-Any age?” Spike whispered. “Even grandpa Nestor?”
“Yep, even him. He’s had it once, and I said it myself. I had it once.”
“Then… Oh my Torch! Why are you even standing next to me?” Spike stammered. “This stuff’s probably contagious!”
Spyro laughed. “Relax, it’s not,” he said to reassure his son. “Just calm down okay? You need to calm down, otherwise your immune system won’t be able to fight this. This stuff has been around for centuries, and there’s been no known cases of it passing from dragon to dragon. Trust me, if I were concerned of it being contagious, I’d be in some hazmat suit or somethin’.”
Spike, in spite of his state had to laugh at the imagery that conjured up.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Spyro said patting his son on the shoulder. “Just sit tight okay?”
Spyro wandered to the kitchen, where he began pouring himself some hot milk. Yeah, he doubted he was going to be getting a wink of sleep tonight. Not with Spike so sick. Not that he minded, he’d gladly lose a few hours of sleep if it meant helping his son. And besides, when this all blew over he’d probably be sleeping for at least a whole day. At least.
Cynder was there in the kitchen with him, sitting at the table. “He alright?” she asked.
Spyro sighed as he sat down next to her, taking a sip of his beverage. “Yeah, he’s about as well as can be expected.”
“The rashes haven’t started up, have they?” Cynder asked. “Because I checked the cabinets, and we’re out of herbal cream.”
“I guess I’ll have to make a trip to the apothecary tomorrow morning,” Spyro sighed rubbing his forehead with a claw. “But no, there’s been no signs of rashes or anything. Not yet at least.”
“Let’s just hope it stays at ‘not yet’ okay?” Cynder muttered as she suppressed a yawn. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m… fine, I suppose.” Spyro lied.
“Spyro,” Cynder said warningly. “You’re not fine, I know you. I can tell when you’re lying.”
“Yeah, alright…” Spyro muttered. “I’m sitting here while my son’s in pain and I’m just feeling useless because there’s nothing I can do aside from sit by his bedside and keep him cool!”
Son, Spyro mused to himself. It was still a new word to him, and yet he found himself liking it even more with every passing day.
“Well, what more can you do, Spyro? You had Dragon Fever too, didn’t you?” Cynder lifted a brow.
“Yeah, and I know what you’re going to say,” Spyro replied once again rubbing his forehead with a claw. He sighed to himself. “If I had Dragon Fever, then I know how this works. You just have to wait this out and just power on through the pain.”
“Then what?” Cynder asked. “What is it?”
“Cyn…” Spyro sighed. “It’s just… well, you seem to be taking this in stride, really. Your son’s sitting in there, incredibly sick and you seem just so goddamn CALM!” he said suddenly shouting and slamming a fist on the table.
He then let out a whisper of: “...I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“I know,” Cynder said. “And you think I’m calm? I’m freaking just about as much as you are, I’m… well, I’m just better at keeping it under wraps than you are. Peace Keeper training, I suppose.”
She shrugged. “But yeah, as you said he is my son too. I’m just as worried as you are, thinking over what more I can do, if there is anything.”
“We’re both hot messes, aren’t we?” Spyro muttered and Cynder had to fight back a laugh at the truthfulness of that statement. Spyro gave his mate a quick kiss before returning to his son’s room.
“You still hanging in there, kid?” Spyro asked. Spike nodded weakly before Spyro gave him a little noogie. “Good, kid. Good.”
Spyro smiled as he went over to a nearby bookshelf and began moving his claws through it as he looked through it. He smiled as he found a nearby book, and looked at the title. Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet, it read.
Taking it from the shelf, Spyro opened it to the very first page. He then flipped on a small lamp next to his son’s bed.
“Aren’t...Aren’t I a little old for bedtime stories?” Spike rasped out.
“Maybe,” Spyro considered. “Maybe you are. But the way I see it, what you need is a distraction right? Something to keep your mind off of this fever, am I right?”
“Y-Yeah, I suppose…” Spike admitted. “Thanks…. Dad.”
“It’s what I’m here for, really,” Spyro smiled at him. “Now, I will be the first to admit I’ve never really been that interested in books. That’s been more your mom’s thing really. But, on rare occasions -and you must promise never to tell this to your mother- whenever I find myself unable to sleep, I just pick out some book from a shelf and lose myself in it for a little while till I fall right to sleep.”
“They’re… not, y’know, romance novels are they?” Spike asked. “...Cause if they are, I’m gonna have to stop calling you dad then.”
“They’re not, trust me,” Spyro laughed before budging up next to him. “Now, shall we begin?”
Cynder had just walked on by the twosome, with a glass of water in hand. She knew it would probably help to settle her son’s stomach a bit more. She had to suppress a smile when she saw the twosome. “...Well, I’ll be…” she thought to herself saying nothing as she set the glass of water on Spike’s bedside table before she silently slipped back into the shadows and out of the room.
An hour or so passed, and Cynder returned on a trip from the bathroom to see both Spyro and Spike curled up in the bed sleeping, smiles on both of their faces. The Griffon’s Goblet lay splayed out on the floor, long since forgotten.
“Sleep well, you two…” she whispered.
“That was… Yeah, that was definitely a day,” Spyro said as he hung his head out the window, feeling the cool night air brush across his scales. “Well, as Spike’s father, it is my duty to support him, and reign him in if necessary. Unless you want to do that Cyn…?”
No response. “Cyn?” Spyro asked before he turned to see Cynder fast asleep.
“...Huh.”
Spike that next morning felt like he was on a permanent high. He had a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend! Or dragonessfriend? ...he wasn’t sure of the actual terminology behind that yet.
Spike looked himself in the mirror, and smiled doing twin finger guns, before running a hand through his scales like one would do a pompadour. “Looking good handsome,” Spike said. “Like, you look good enough to wow your girlfriend right out of her socks!”
“Hey, when you’re done patting yourself on the back?” Cynder commented walking by trying very hard not to laugh. “Breakfast is on the table, just so you know.”
Spike laughed nervously, a little red in the face at being caught. He smiled to himself, well at least she was supportive of him. It was like having his own mother saying that she was so proud of him. His smile then soon faded at this thought, he hadn’t thought much about his birth mother in weeks and it shamed him to realize this.
“Have I really forgotten you that much, mom?”
He loved Cynder, yes but at times he did occasionally think about the possibility of what if Cynder was his birth mother. He knew it wasn’t true, but apparently he’d come to love her that much that in his mind’s eye, whenever he thought about who his mother was Cynder had begun to replace his real mom. Was it wrong?
“...Oh, here you go again,” Spike thought to himself. “You’re throwing yourself another pity party, your real mom would have been happy for you to be Spyro and Cynder’s son. Actually, Cynder? She is your real mother, just as much as Windflame was.”
Spike went through his breakfast quickly, prompting Spyro’s curiosity. “Hey, what’s got you in such a hurry kiddo? You got somewhere to be?”
“He probably wants to spend some time with Smolder…” Cynder teased as she came into the room, dressed in her armor. Her sword was strapped to her hip.
“Oh, is that all?” Spyro asked. “...I wonder if whenever Smolder comes over, -as you know she will- I should implement a three inch rule…”
Cynder had to keep herself from laughing at Spyro playing overprotective father again. He was such a dork, but then again that was part of his charm, really.
“...actually, it’s not that,” Spike muttered fiddling with his silverware. “Okay, yeah it’s sorta related to Smolder but… Well, I need to visit mom again. That’s all.”
The room went quiet as Spyro and Cynder shared a look. More often than not, they didn’t really bring up their son’s birth parents. Maybe it was selfish of them, they’d realized, to think Spike was completely their own. It still shocked them whenever Spike brought up Windflame, even if they knew it really shouldn’t have. Deep inside, he still loved her.
“...I… I see,” Spyro said. “If… if you want, we can accompany you to her and your father’s grave…”
“No,” Spike swallowed. “This is something I have to do alone, dad…”
Spike made his way to the Peace Keepers realm, via a small portal that was linked only to Spike’s household and only deposited him in this exact spot that was otherwise unreachable. Atop a high plateau, Windflame and her mate had been buried overlooking the canyons in which they’d once called their own. Avalar had always been his mother’s favorite place in the world, Spike knew. She’d called it a paradise. Looking down into the maze of canyons and little settlements buried within them, Spike was reminded why. Of course, he’d always heard the stories of the dragons’ birthplace. The Forgotten Realms, which Spyro had freed from the Sorceress and her grip some years back. He imagined it was breathtaking. But for his mother? This was her home.
He walked up to the small gravestone, not noticeable by many unless you were really looking but still noticeable. On it was carved two names, and Spike had to fight back tears as he read off of them. He then placed some marigolds in front of the grave, they’d always been his mom’s favorite. They shined just like her eyes.
“...hey, uh… Mom. Dad,” Spike said. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry I haven’t come back to visit you in a while, but I’ve had a lot of things on my mind. Been trying to figure out my place in life, and I think I’m getting there. The Beast Makers… yeah, I think I might be able to become one if I work at it enough. And I’ve got a girlfriend, just thought you should know that. You’d like her, Mom. She’s smart, and pretty funny actually. Her name’s Smolder. Okay, yeah, not very original for a dragon I know. It’s about as bad as Ember. But… um… yeah. She’s a keeper, I just know it. Something tells me she is, call it a sixth sense or something but she’s exactly who you’d want for me.”
Spike had to pause and wipe away a few tears. “...Yeah, look at me. Crying again, you told me I should have the strength to hold my head up high, and for the most part I’m trying. But whenever I think of you… The pain should have passed by this point, right? I mean, I should have moved on. I guess I’ll just never forget you, that’s all. Well, anyways. I hope you’re happy, wherever you are.”
He started to walk away, giving the grave site one last longing look before heading back to the portal. He then heard a voice. “You alright man?”
“G-Gallus?” Spike asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check up on you,” the blue-feathered griffon admitted. “I came to visit you, and Spyro told me where you were. I can’t imagine he’s all too happy with me intruding on you like this, but I was concerned.”
“...Yeah, well… I’m okay aren’t I?” Spike asked.
“Maybe,” Gallus agreed. “But c’mon, I’m your best friend. Okay, granted that’s only because you don’t really have too many friends aside from me, but best friends should be able to talk about this sort of stuff really right?”
“...I suppose…” Spike said sitting himself down atop a small rock. Gallus sat nearby.
“...Now, uh… Look,” Gallus said. “I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. I mean, losing your parents just like that? Man, that’s rough. But they’d want you to move on, right?”
“But that’s what I’m doing!” Spike shouted perhaps a little louder than he intended.
“Really?” Gallus asked. “Is that why you come to visit their grave every month?”
Spike stared at him. “How did you…?”
“Spyro told me,” Gallus admitted. “Okay… uh, look. There’s a reason I bonded with you so well, I think.”
“And that is…?” Spike asked cautiously, not really sure if he wanted to know.
“We’re both orphans,” Gallus said. “Yeah, there. I said it. We’re both orphans. I never knew my parents, so maybe I’m lucky in that regard. Kept me from getting… hurt. Instead, all I have is this cranky old grandpa who’s always going on about Griffonstone’s glory days.”
Spike’s heart went out to Gallus. “Dear Torch above… I never knew.”
“Now, don’t go throwing me any pity parties, okay?” Gallus said. “I’ve learned to deal.”
“But you shouldn’t be!” Spike shouted. “You shouldn’t be brushing this off just so casually!”
“Maybe not, but that’s my lot in life,” Gallus said before chuckling bitterly. “I guess what they say is true, those who laugh the loudest are probably crying the hardest on the inside.”
Spike laid a hand on his shoulder before Gallus brushed it away. He then continued with: “Okay, I won’t pretend to be some sort of expert on… feelings or anything. But I can suggest a few things. Your mom, your birth one? She’d probably be proud of you, yeah, but she wouldn’t want you moping around. She’d want you to get on with your life. Remember her, but just keep going. But then again, I’m not you am I? I can’t pretend to understand how your brain works. I’m just tossing out suggestions here after all…” he said giving a small little shrug.
“No… No, you’re right…” Spike said and if he didn’t know better he could have sworn he saw Gallus give a smug little smile.
“So here’s what I’d do,” Gallus went on. “I’d bring Smolder here, goodness knows your mom -Windflame was it?- would love to meet her. Doesn’t have to be on your first date, doesn’t have to be on your second. But she deserves to know, because if you really plan on spending the rest of your life with her…”
Spike wondered how much he’d heard. Spike then smiled at Gallus. “Thank you…” he breathed out. “No seriously, thank you.”
He then gave Gallus a brief hug. “Yeah… yeah, okay, that’s enough of that!” Gallus said. “I’ve got a reputation to keep up here! Okay, so yeah we’re doing this? Okay then, bring it in here then.”
“So he’s a hugger then?” Gallus asked. “I’m… surprisingly cool with this. Men should be able to share hugs, right? And me? I’m a man!”
Eventually he was released, and Gallus gave Spike a brief smile as he watched him go back through the portal. Gallus was soon to follow, and when he arrived back in Hearthstone Spyro stopped him.
“Thank you…” Spyro said.
“Yeah, uh, just doing my part I suppose…” Gallus admitted rubbing the back of his head. “I may not know how to show it at times, but Spike? He’s my best friend, and I have to be there for him right?”
Spyro seemed to be appraising Gallus with his gaze. The griffon would not be remiss to admit he was… slightly nervous given what he knew Spyro could actually do to him if he wanted. Everyone gave Cynder the credit for being the scary one in this family, but if you asked Gallus he would say Spyro was plenty scary himself!
A few days later, Spike paid a visit to Cloud Spires with Smolder. She was… well, to put it mildly less than impressed.
“...Okay, why’d you take me to a weather factory?” Smolder asked flatly.
“I thought you’d like it,” Spike said. “I mean, smell that fresh mountain air!”
“...If I wanted mountain air,” Smolder said. “I’d have asked you to take me somewhere like the Magic Crafters realm. ...Still, I suppose it isn’t all bad. I mean, at least it’s quiet. It’s not like the Colossus Valley where you hear yodeling atop every peak. ‘Cause trust me, that gets old real quick.”
“So is that a yes, or a no?” Spike asked.
“That’s a yes, you dingus,” Smolder said with a small roll of her eyes. “Really, you need to be more sure of yourself! Besides, if you took me all this way… well, I suppose I can’t back out now can I?”
She laughed. “So this is the Forgotten Realms huh? The dragonkind’s original birthplace? Cool, I suppose. Hey, is it true that your father jumped down a hole and ended up somewhere around here?”
“You mean Sunrise Spring?” Spike asked. “Yeah, he ended up there. Dad called it…”
“Surprisingly peaceful?” Smolder finished as they walked through the realm, set up against gorgeous towers and high cliffs, everything in varying shades of white and pink. Soft snow fell from the clouds above. “Yeah, I think that’s what everyone says about Sunrise Spring. I’ll admit, it’s good for a vacation if you’re not the restless sort.”
Truth be told, the fresh mountain air wasn’t the real reason why Spike had come here. He’d heard rumors of the weather imps being surprising artisans, and he wanted to get a gift for his girlfriend. They said, after all a way to a dragoness’ heart was to her love of pretty things.
And Smolder, even as tomboyish as she was definitely was a dragoness. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny her love of pretty things. Spike turned to look at her, wearing some earmuffs and a small scarf. She looked absolutely adorable. Not that Spike would ever tell her this, of course. He valued his life.
In any case, he soon found what he was looking for. In a small building to the west of them, Spike had found one of the imps and was looking around to see if Smolder was watching. Thankfully, she wasn’t.
“Hey… so, is it true you’re a bit of an artisan?” Spike asked the imp, named Cumulus.
“A bit?” Cumulus asked. “A bit?”
He sounded offended. “Kid, you are underselling my abilities. I am more than ‘a bit’ of an artisan!”
“Well, sorrrrrrreeeeee,” Spike drawled. “Didn’t know you were so proud of your abilities!”
“Hey hey,” Cumulus said. “Can you take fresh mountain air and rain, and reforge the sounds they make into a whistle that can replicate your own unique roar? No? Yeah, I didn’t think so!”
“Okay, okay!” Spike replied holding up hands in a surrendering motion. “I’m perfectly convinced! So, how much do I have to pay you?”
“60% of the gems out of your own pocket, or you get nothing,” Cumulus said to him. “Quality like this doesn’t come cheap ya know.”
“...Yeah, well I still haven’t seen you make anything so… uh,” Spike deadpanned. “Excuse me if I take your words with a little grain of salt really.”
“Oh, OH!” Cumulus snorted, the little imp's feathery wings flapping angrily. “You want a demonstration of my prowess? FINE!”
With that, he grabbed a few clouds and began shaping and forming them before tossing in a potion labeled ‘Song of Rain’ into the mix before freezing the whole thing solid. “There, you little bean. Blow!” Cumulus said handing it over to Spike.
Spike did so, and to his surprise he got an exact replica of his roar coming from the little whistle.
“You doubt me?” Cumulus asked. “Now… about my payment…”
“Oh… Oh no. Technically this is mine now,” Spike said. “By the rules of dragon trading set up by the great Ignitus long ago, me challenging you to show your wares and you handing me one of them for free…”
“...Oh for Nimbus’ sake,” Cumulus grumbled having just remembered said rules. It was part of a long forgotten peace treaty with the Realms back when they’d first started out. It had been buried under the Sorceress’ laws, but it was still in existence.
Spike however, hadn’t forgotten about the rules and it was thanks to Ember he knew about them. The Beast Maker, as we’ve seen before was quite the master trader and haggler.
“...You still have to pay for your girlfriend’s gift though,” Cumulus remarked. “This is after all, part of a set.”
“And when you offered to give me one part of the set, which you just did,” Spike remarked. “That means you have to complete the set as per the-”
“...dragon trading laws, yes yes, I know…” Cumulus muttered sounding a mix of being mildly impressed or annoyed. Spike couldn’t honestly tell which. “You don’t have to rub it in my face ya little whelp.”
Spike was later walking off smugly with two little whistles in hand. Both resembled a dragon’s head. One resembled Spike’s while the other resembled Smolder’s. Spike chuckled, and to think with only a little knowledge of dragon trading laws he’d gotten them for a pittance! Taking back to the skies, he soon found Smolder next to a miniature sun. She’d kicked up her feet atop a folding lawn chair and was dozing the day away with sunglasses over her eyes. Spike just thanked Tiamat above that the ice that his whistles were made of was practically unmeltable.
Smolder rolled over onto her belly, and raised up her sunglasses to look at Spike. “So, where you been dragon boy?” she asked. “I’ve been snoozing the day away here. I take it all back though, this place is for keeps!”
“I just had to check on something, that’s all,” Spike lied hiding the whistles in his shoulder bag. “Hey, want to go for a fly? There’s nothing quite like having the evening skies as your backdrop, really…”
“Hmmm…” Smolder thought it over before rolling back onto her back and placing the sunglasses back over her eyes. “Maybe in a moment, ‘kay? Right now, I just want to chill…”
“Yeah… chill…” Spike said as he rested himself up on the stone floor next to Smolder. “...Yeah, I suppose I can get along with that…”
He thought back to earlier.
“So…” Smolder said. “This is her, huh?”
They stood in front of Windflame’s gravestone, Smolder perched atop a nearby rock. “This is your mom, I mean? Was she beautiful?” she asked, unusually quiet.
“Yeah…” Spike whispered back. “She was the most beautiful thing on this planet.”
He felt a hand resting on his shoulder. He turned to see Smolder giving him a soft little smile. “I’m sure she was…” she whispered.
With that, Smolder walked up to the gravestone and cleared her throat. “...Hey, uh… Yeah, so it’s me. I’m not sure if Spike’s ever mentioned you to me, but name’s Smolder. I’m his girlfriend. I felt it was the right thing to do, just to come say hey to you at least once. It… well, it just felt wrong for me not to meet both sets of Spike’s parents, come see who made him the drake he is today.”
She stayed silent for a few moments, before continuing. “...Yeah, I’ve never been good at this sort of thing, really. It’d probably have been easier if I’d met you… you know, before. I’m sure you were a good mother, really. Spike certainly didn’t get all of it from Spyro and Cynder. I’m sure you and your mate contributed to it as well. Like, you had to right?”
“Anyways,” Smolder sighed. “I promise, I’ll do your son right. I’ll stay by his side no matter what, through thick and thin. ...Goddess above, I hope that didn’t sound too cheesy. Because by Torch, I do NOT do cheesy. Like, I actively try and avoid that sort of crap.”
She felt a warm wind brush over her scales, and Smolder probably would have contributed it to the desert except it was too late in the day for such a warm blast of air. Maybe it was nothing. “But… yeah. Your son? He’s a good kid. He deserves better really, you should be there to watch him grow up. But I promise, I’ll do him right okay? Like, I promise.”
Then came another blast of warm air, and Smolder would have never admitted this aloud but she was sure along with it came a voice whispering with it: “Thank you…”
Smolder tossed a look behind her as she went back towards the portal, and while she might have been imagining this she swore she saw a pink dragoness much larger than her flying through the clouds. She blinked, and the dragoness had vanished.
Back in the present day, Spike had led Smolder on a merry chase through the clouds below and as night fell over the dragon realms they’d touched down in the forested lands of Fracture Hills. All around them, the timberlands surrounded the small village. Wooden walls like that of a fort’s kept most of the unfriendlier wildlife out of the village. Most. Sadly, due to Earthshaper activity the ground was riddled with cracks exposing hot boiling lava coming from the nearby Mount Fracture.
Despite this hazardous environment, it was actually a wealth of festivities. The fauns and satyrs were nothing if not the partying type, as fiddles and bagpipe music was audible all throughout the valley. And the lava really posed not much of an issue for dragons, as their scales could withstand it. It was sorta like a hot tub really.
“Wow, do they not notice the lava,” Smolder asked as she saw Elora dancing with a nearby satyr. “...or do they just not… care?”
“We’ve learned to live with it,” Elora explained. “It’s always been a hazard, but us fauns are nothing if not adaptable. I mean, we can handle the Earthshapers so we can handle a bit of lava right?”
A small ball of boiling rock erupted from the pool nearby and landed next to Smolder who looked unconvinced. “...If you say so…”
“I personally think you need to loosen up,” Elora said as she grabbed a nearby fiddle and began playing a little jig. “I mean, we wouldn’t have invited you and Spike here if we didn’t think you wouldn’t enjoy yourself right?”
Truth be told, there was another reason why Elora had invited Smolder to here of all places. Spike had planned to ask Smolder if she’d marry him someday. Elora at first thought Spike was rushing it just a bit, but then she’d seen the look in his eyes. She knew he was in love, she’d seen that same look in Spyro’s eyes whenever he talked about Cynder. Did it hurt her that her knowing that her ex was with someone else? Yeah, it sorta did. But Spyro was happy, and if Cynder made him happy then she’d be happy.
But that was then, and this was now and she wanted to make Smolder feel as if she was part of that one -if not very odd- big family Spyro considered all of his friends to be a part of.
So, for whatever reason Smolder found herself swept up in all of the festivities and doing what was called a ceilidh dance. Whatever that was. It was fun though, if not exhausting though and soon Smolder found herself laying flat on her back in the grass. The stars twinkled brilliantly up above.
“...Um, okay… yeah, that was… something. Definitely something,” Smolder said as Spike laid himself next to her. “World’s still spinning, I think…”
“Oh, you know Elora means well,” Spike said. “She’s right you know. You do need to loosen up, if not just a little.”
Smolder threw back her head and laughed. “Imagine! You telling me I need to loosen up! I’ve always been the jokester in this relationship, remember when we first met?”
“...Yeah, yeah I do…” Spike flushed red rubbing the back of his head with a claw. “Still, you had fun, right?”
“Ask me again when my head stops spinning, m’kay?” Smolder replied. “Oh, okay… yeah, there we go!”
“The stars are nice tonight, aren’t they?” Spike asked pointing up to the sky above where many lights shone down upon them. “Bet you don’t get them like this in Beast Makers, what with all the trees…”
“Oh, really?” Smolder asked raising an eyebrow. “You’re going with that old cliche? Really? Goddess, that’s so… corny.” she said with a smile.
“Hey, that’s what I do,” Spike said in reply. “Corny, and damn proud of it!”
“And you can stop hiding those whistles in your shoulder bag,” Smolder said. “Caught a glimpse of them on the way down, and then during the dance…”
“...I can’t surprise you at all, can I?” Spike sighed reaching inside the bag.
“Not really,” Smolder said before kissing him. “But I still love you for it.”