Spike had wandered onto the fourth deck in his exploration of the ship. This was supposedly the recreational deck. Somewhere up here was a lap pool, full gym, private rooms for classes, pottery decks, photo mounts, and so much more where creatures could refine their skills and try new things. The first room Spike had come across was small and padded inside. He grinned as he took note of the musical instruments within. His time in Norfandia had only allowed him a rough picking of guitar strings whenever they could cobble one together in night camps. It had been years since he had touched a real musical instrument from a trusted source.
Spike grabbed the wooden frame and hoisted the light instrument up. He slung the hold across his back and strummed it. Tuned perfectly. Impressive. He fingered a standard G chord to see if his claws could remember the ancient melodies he had composed so long ago. While rough, the musical knowledge was still there. There was a keyboard as well. He plinked around on the keys, trying different progressions and arpeggiations. Again, the music was there, but his movements unrefined; rusty.
Spike decided he would come back another time to practice. Maybe he could even compose a homecoming piece to play for his friends when he got back. He strolled through the corridors, gazing into the rooms where trolls and wolfmen were imitating a pony instructor on meditation. They all look agitated. Spike held a laugh as he remembered the irritation of Norfandians when it came to taking things slow. Patience was not a virtue in a society where life seemed to go as fast as an apple cider mug in selling season.
Down the hall further was a large glass wall that had a single door. It led Spike into the main gym. Racks of dumbbells and machines lined neatly in rows across the whole room. It was currently only occupied by a troll with headphones and the three centaur from the dock. Spike whistled softly as he watched the large blue centaur who had stopped him press a six-plated bar from his chest upwards in a flat-bench technique. No way would I have made it past him. Spike thought. The centaur’s muscles strained and bulged under the bar while his friends yelled at him to push harder. They laughed as he settled it into the place holder and sat up to scold his friends. Spike leaned against the window as they swapped places to start another set. The blue centaur spotted the dragon watching and smiled. He gestured for him to come in, but Spike held up a claw. He was hardly dressed for a gym session, and he had been out of practice in routine for a while. The centaur would not take no for an answer as he nudged his other friend. They both looked to Spike and started raising their fists up and down. Clearly by the movement of their mouths, they were chanting for him to come in. Spike smiled and rolled his eyes before opening the door and entering. They all cheered as he approached.
“Great beast! Care to see how a real beast throws a rack?” The blue centaur grinned.
“Oh, was that you throwing a real rack? I thought your head would explode from the strain of that last set.” Spike jested back. The centaur blushed in his already reddened face and folded his arms as the other two laughed.
“I could have done better, but these clowns think it’s funny to yell about my mother while I’m pressing more than their sorry carcasses.” He shrugged to gesture to the other two centaur who were laughing at their comrade’s defensiveness. Spike raised a hand.
“I meant only in jest.” He clarified. “I couldn’t even come close to that much weight. Very impressive.” The centaur found his confidence back and raised his chin proudly at the compliment.
“Say, you wanna give it a go?” The other centaur asked. He was equally as shredded as his friend, but the golden tone of his skin seemed to accentuate his veins more contrast giving him the illusion of bigger limbs.
“Sorry fellas. You think I’d bench in my only good shirt? Not a chance.” Spike folded his arms and smirked.
“Take it off then. Nobody in here cares. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of under there anyway.” The red centaur said from his seated position.
“Nah, I better not.” Spike protested. The three again started chanting ‘take it off’ in hopes of coercing the dragon to join them.
It worked.
Spike caved and started slowly unbuttoning his shirt. The troll and centaur would know why and how he got his scars, and they would know not to press the subject. No sane person would come to the gym while these three were here, so Spike had little worry of ponies catching his battered torso.
“Told you man. You’ve got a great figure.”
“Yea, it’s like your scales somehow make you look more toned.”
“I’ll say. You look like you got carved from a history book of some ancient war hero.”
The centaur all chuckled and pushed each other. Spike looked down and noticed that they were somewhat right. His scales made his abdomen stand out in definition, while his chest looked blocky and thick with all the overlapping squares. His musculature had increased drastically since he was younger, but years in dedicated application gave them definition and strength. There had been more than once that Spike had thanked his body for being strong enough to lift a log or brace a wall.
He took position under the bar and braced his claws.
“At least give me a warmup. I’m not doing a full set off the bat.” He whined. The last thing he needed was for his relaxation to be lived out in agony because of some pulled tendon or muscle.
Spike pressed the bar hard as he struggled to finish the final set. Sweat poured out from under his scales, sending itches wracking across his body. His forked tongue stuck out between his teeth tightly as he shook up the massive bar. Five plates were on each side and he had already done a full set of it. One more, and the centaur had promised to stop haggling with him.
Consort, Drakon, and Mirek had all bonded with the dragon over the last hour due to their love of working out. Consort, the golden-tinged centaur, had even won a few flexing shows before. Drakon had said that his red skin kept him from showing too much strain during a workout, always giving the illusion that he had more in him. Mirek complained about his blue skin actively working against his form. No matter how hard he tried, his veins were always invisible against it.
Spike breathed out so tightly between his teeth that a small flame shot up to scorch between his hands. The centaur all ‘ooed’ at his struggle. Spike finally straightened his elbows as Mirek spotted him and guided the bar back into holding place.
“Excellent form beast! I see now why they call you the hero of the mountain!” Spike sat up out of breath as Drakon slapped his shoulder.
“Tha—Thank-- thanks guys.” Spike choked out. He started unconsciously scratching his scales where the salty drops leaked through.
“I think you got yourself some secret admirers’ boss.” Consort lowered his voice. His eyes darted across the room to where a coal-black unicorn twisted sharply to avoid Spike’s gaze. She pretended unconvincingly to help spot…
Rarity.
Spike blushed as her eyes quickly darted to the squat rack she sat under. Spike palmed his face and leaned forward.
Jeez, subtle much? He laughed at himself.
“Man, ponies are kinda cute. You think we’ll have a shot with them?” Drakon wondered aloud.
“Maybe I will; you’re lucky if a swamp eel takes you with that ugly mug!” Mirek teased on. Spike stood and leaned himself against the rack. He jutted his chin at the two mares.
“Why don’t you go find out? I think these two would be more than curious to know if they had an equal shot.” Spike grinned wickedly. He knew how awkward and flustered Rarity would get when approached by these massive creatures.
“Alright. Dibs on the hot one.”
“No, I wanted her!”
“Too bad suckers, she’s definitely going for me.”
The centaur all argued louder and louder as the mares glanced nervously over. Spike gave a little claw wave and winked as they yelled over him. Fashion and Rarity giggled and turned back to their workout. Spike almost forgot that he had been hiding his scars from them.
Almost.
He quickly realized how exposed he felt and threw his shirt on. The sweat stained the soft fabric, but Spike did not care. Hopefully they had been too far away to see them clearly.
“Hey, sir Spike, where you going?” Mirek whined out.
“Just got some other business to attend to boys. Tell you what; you all have a bench off to see who gets the chance for the mares.” Spike grinned up at them. He knew that competition would last longer than Fashion or Rarity cared to stick around.
“Great idea! Me first.”
“No, me!”
“Nah, weaklings go last.”
“So that’s why you ought to!”
Their arguments faded as Spike walked towards the exit. He pulled the glass door and stepped out into the cooler air of the hallway. He sped past the glass only glancing momentarily at Rarity as she helped to spot Fashion. Their eyes locked for a split second before both sought random things that suddenly became very interesting.
---
Rarity threw the bar back on its hold. She huffed out as her shoulder groaned in protest. Her mane was put up in a tight ponytail to keep out of her face during the workout. Rarity hissed through her teeth.
“Fashion, you were supposed to be spotting me!” She whined. Rarity turned to see the unicorn staring across the gym. Her friend was gazing at the group of centaur as they yelled at the figure on the bench. Rarity found herself entranced at the efforts of the person holding up the immense bar. She could not see who was laying there, but those arms looked familiar. Just as Rarity was discerning who the figure was, the broad-shouldered dragon sat up and caught her eyes. She caught a glimpse of his bare chest. Even though she had known Spike long before he adopted clothes, there was something more about catching him now. Rarity suddenly felt shamed and turned back to her rack to save face. She felt Fashion bump into her hastily.
“Sorry dear, just admiring the view.”
“Fashion! Please! Some dignity would be nice.” Rarity chided. She moved out from under the bar and swapped places with Fashion. Her cheeks were flushed, and she could not tell if it was from the workout or her brief glance at the shirtless dragon. She got her answer a second later as Spike rushed past the glass window and caught her eyes. The flush grew hotter in her cheeks as he continued his stride. She noted he still wore the button down and pants from yesterday, but without his vest. Clearly, he had not been expecting to be in the gym today.
So why was he?
Fashion finished her final set, and only set Rarity bantered with herself. They moved out of the padded area of the gym while the centaur continued their heated debate over something. Fashion steered Rarity closer to the group and began sashaying her flanks as they passed. The centaur all stopped or at least lowered their voices. Fashion pretended not to notice while Rarity did everything in her power to look elsewhere.
“Say, you ponies wouldn’t know what there is to do on this sorry barge, would you?” the golden centaur grinned at them. Fashion smiled politely back and tossed her mane aside.
“We would!” Her chipper tone made Rarity wince in annoyance. Her friend turned to Rarity and gave her a pouty look. “But I’m afraid my darling friend here has her eyes set on another.” She winked.
Rarity hoisted her chin and scoffed. Before she could answer, the red centaur grunted and spoke.
“She seemed pretty set on Sir Spike just now. Seems like she’s unattached.” His disdain was evident. But his statement made Rarity think.
Sir Spike? Why the formality?
The centaur sighed again.
“I shouldn’t be haggling, I know. Sorry. Sir Spike told us all the time to ‘be accepting’ or whatever. Not an easy process when our people go to war every other year.” His sharp smile made it difficult for Rarity not to bolt for cover. He looked so much like Tirak.
“Well, funny you should mention that quirky little dragon! That just so happens to be the man of her dreams!” Fashion beamed out. Rarity felt a sense of horror set in.
“Fashion! Are you serious?” She exclaimed profusely.
“Wait, you wouldn’t happen to be… uh, I wanna say Clarity?” The blue centaur rubbed his chin.
“She’s Rarity, dear. High-end fashionista of Equestria!” Fashion continued.
“Ye—yes. Yes, I am Rarity.” She managed in spite of shock and embarrassment. The centaur smiled.
“The great beast Spike mentioned you all the time! You’re the one he said to thank for his generosity.” He laughed out as he extended a massive barrel arm. Rarity was confused for a moment before allowing her hoof to be taken for a shake.
“He… mentioned me?” She did not want to press it in fear of seeming desperate, but she was. “What did he say?”
“Only that you were some pony who was supposedly the prettiest in the world. Something about you being like the greatest thing to walk the earth? I didn’t buy it until we saw ya over there. I understand his eyes for you.” He wiggled his brows in jest. Rarity blushed.
Maybe he does still like me she hoped.
“Well boys, I better see my friend here to her room before she gets all flustered. I’ll be on the pool deck around 2 if you care to join.” Fashion winked at the three of them and began trotting away while waggling her tail.
“We’ll be there!” One called out as they opened the door.
“Fashion! Why would you get me—us into a situation like that?” Rarity scolded.
“My dear, did you not just receive the information that could take this cruise from luxurious to pleasurious? Spikey still loves you! Why not give it another chance?” But Rarity was already shaking her head.
“We don’t know that. He could have just been telling them for emphasis, or-or giving examples of his friends from home!” She protested. Fashion huffed in annoyance as they walked out onto the hardwood deck of the ship away from the gym.
“Rarity, why can’t you let yourself have some fun? Or just enjoy life. Stop making excuses to run away.” The stormy clouds in her eyes told Rarity that she had just made a mistake.
“Run away? I don’t run away.”
“Oh, but don’t you? You don’t remember what you told me about how when your business was taking off, it was your friends who coerced you into sending it. You were too scared. Or when I offered you the Mare Fashion position, you denied and kept listing other candidates. Or when we talked about all the past suitors of your life and how almost all of them were left standing agape because you couldn’t commit? No Rarity, you don’t run. You sprint away from your own happiness.” Her anger spat across and made Rarity’s ears fold back as she shunned away.
“That’s not fair.” Rarity squeaked out. She felt like she was about to cry. Fashion slowed her pace and sighed.
“I’m sorry dear. I don’t mean to be so rude. But when will you stop punishing yourself and just enjoy who you are? Let yourself be vulnerable for once. You may find it helps create some of the best memories of your life.”
They walked back in silence to their rooms. Rarity turned the idea over time and time again. Could she really just let herself chance life with an adolescent crush? Could she afford to create lasting memories with someone who might break her heart?
Fashion turned and stopped Rarity in her thoughts.
“Darling, I think it’s best that you take some time this cruise to yourself. Figure out what you want. I thought the weeks in SugarCuba would have done that, but clearly you need some you time.”
“But we had so many things we were planning to do!” Rarity stopped her.
“And we will, but you’re lost at sea. The only one who can row you in is you. Please Rarity, just…” Fashion strained her neck and looked out the porthole. “Just try and be happy by yourself, okay?” She turned back and smiled at the mare. Rarity felt her heart sink. She had been hoping to create some great memories with her new boss/coworker on this trip. Now she would spend at least a few days alone until she could convince Fashion to let her resume their plans.
Before Rarity could speak, Fashion turned and made for her door. It closed with the purple-black magical aura from her horn in a violent slam. Rarity shrunk away and found the hallway totally silent. Totally alone.