//------------------------------//
// Chapter 5 
// Story: It Takes a Village 
// by determamfidd 
//------------------------------//


Chapter Five



Dear Spike,

I did say I hoped to be considered one of your friends. Therefore, as your friend, you could have confided in me the situation that has arisen between yourself and the dragon of Everfree Forest. Yet in my role as Ruler of Equestria, it was your duty to tell me. A threat to our citizens is a threat to our land. Imagine then my disappointment when my faithful student Twilight was the one to notify me. It is a happy coincidence that you are no longer taking her dictation or reading her letters before you send them, or I might never have been informed at all.

My sister tells me that I am being too harsh and that you have a great deal to think about. I do not deny that you are undergoing a time of great stress. You asked about responsibility. Here is some truth: You have a responsibility to me, your Princess, you have a responsibility as a citizen of Equestria, and you have a responsibility towards those that care for you. You have disappointed me greatly, my dragon. 

Though I am saddened by your failure of duty and lack of trust, I am still your friend. Do please remember that. I re-extend my offer for help. I have not the authority to overturn twelve thousand years of draconic tradition, I am afraid. But is there anything else I am able to do? 

Ever your friend,

Princess Celestia


~**~



It was raining. Spike was brooding.

He huddled gloomily under his wings and felt the rain pattering down against the stretched pale-green skin and trickling between the elongated fingers. Before him, flecked with raindrops, the letter from Princess Celestia lay. The neat black writing glared at him reproachfully.

"Well, this is just great," he said to himself. "You've seriously annoyed the Princess, Twilight's probably disappointed as well, and you're soaking wet. That's a really promising start to the day."

He idly wondered if Rainbow Dash would open a hole in the clouds over him, and hoped she might fly by. However, the morning dragged on, and he didn't see hide nor hair of the Pegasus. He concluded that she must be away for a show, and sighed gustily.

Then he got on with some more brooding.

Somepony coughed. He opened up his wings a fraction to see the Mayor waving smoke away energetically, a raincoat draped over her head. "Sorry," he said, and unfurled his wings a little more to create a dry space for the political pony to stand.

She scurried under immediately and shook off her dripping raincoat. "I always forget when the weather ponies have rain scheduled," she said. "Never fails. I'm on my way to the office, and down it comes!"

"You have a raincoat," he pointed out.

"I have extensive prior experience of being caught in the rain," she said crossly. "I never leave home without it. Now let me see, how to begin..."

"Is something wrong?" Spike asked.

"Hmm." She pursed her lips and nodded, before craning her neck up to look at him. "I have a report," she said bluntly.

"A report...?"

"Those ponies from the market on Sunday," she went on, confirming Spike's worst fears. "They've been selling at other markets in the area, and they have talked. Rather loudly. They are gathering numbers and support. There are rumours of an organisation being formed."

Spike bit his lip, before saying, 'ow!' and rubbing at his mouth. Stupid fangs. "What am I gonna do?" he asked.

"What are we going to do," she corrected. "We are going to refute them, thoroughly and categorically!"

"Oh. That's good," he said uncertainly.

"To that end, I've taken the liberty of hiring a reporter and a photographer," she said. "We'll have a write-up about you, how does that sound?"

Spike froze.

"We'll have it published in Ponyville Press, Trottingham Times, the Canterlot Sun, the Hoofington Herald, Clotheshorse Magazine, Manehatten Mail and Equestria Daily," she continued blithely. "It'll show Equestria the real Spike, and these rabble-rousers will be left without a hoof to stand on."

"W... what?" he said weakly.

"You know! The actual Spike, the Ponyville dragon! Who you are!"

'The actual Spike' swallowed.

"I am not having my citizens run out of town simply because they grow to thirty ponylengths high and breathe fire," the Mayor said with hard satisfaction. "Those addle-pated ninnies won't know what hit them. Now, I've set up an appointment for this afternoon. Are you available?"

"Uh..."

"Excellent! Then I won't keep you further. Come by the Town Hall at about three, won't you?"

"Uh..."

"By the way, how are things progressing with that challenge?" she asked with false heartiness. "Quite the nasty shock that was at first! But as they say, no time like the present to take the bull by the horns, eh? No doubt you're training hard? Upholding the pride of Ponyville?"

"Uh..."

"Splendid, splendid." She patted his paw briskly, pulled the raincoat over her head once more, and peered out under his wings. "Useful, that," she nodded to them. Then she ducked out into the driving rain once more.

Spike blinked twice, and then let out a long, heart-felt groan.


~**~



"She said what now?"

"The Mayor wants to do an article on me," Spike said blankly. The rain had stopped, but it was still wet and miserable out on the streets and very few ponies were braving the damp and the wind.

Macintosh chewed thoughtfully on his strand of hay. "Cos o' these anti-dragon ponies?"

Spike nodded once, and then scrubbed at his eyes.

"I'm sensin' that you're not all that fond of the idea," Macintosh said dryly, and Spike gave him a dark look.

"What gave that away?"

"Might be the way y're about to jump outta yer skin," he said. Spike looked at him, horrified.

"I'm shedding? Before a photo? No way, can this get any worse?"

"Thought you didn't want no photoshoot?"

"Right! But if I have to have one, I don't wanna be all patchy and flaky in front of all Equestria!"

"Calm down now, hold yer horses," Macintosh said as he unhitched himself from the wagon full of barrels and crates. "Y'look fine, same as y' ever did. Uhhh, lately."

Spike looked up from his minute inspection of the scales on his back. "I'm not shedding?"

"Nnnope."

"Oh. Well, good."

"I can see why y' don't want to talk t' some reporter or get y' photo took by somepony y' don't know," Macintosh said thoughtfully. "But if it gets these crazy ponyfolk off yer back, then why not?"

"That's just it," Spike said, and his head thumped the cobblestones heavily. "These aren't ponies who can be persuaded by a silly little article – and it'll put a big fat target on my back for everypony and anypony who feels the same way. They'll all know where to find me!"

"Hate t' be the one t' point it out, Spike, but y' ain't exactly inconspicuous," Macintosh drawled, adjusting his collar. He squinted at the sun, and then looked expectantly down the street. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"Well, couldn't this wait until I was even more inconspicuous?" Spike began thudding his head against the cobblestones repetitively. "Why couldn't they wait until I'm as big as Razorfang? Nopony in their right mind would attack him!"

"Stop that, y'll give yerself a headache," Macintosh said, smoothing down his dark blond mane.

Spike slumped over with a smoky sigh. "I officially hate everything," he said. "Can I start my hundred-year sleep now?"

"Hello there, Spike... oh my, is something the matter?"

The soft little voice broke him out of his dark reverie, and he looked down into Fluttershy's timid, concerned face. "Hi Fluttershy," he said moodily. "Oh, everything's simply peachy."

"He's upset cos the Mayor's organised this article an' photoshoot," Macintosh explained, his eyes alert and yet strangely soft.

"Oh, I don't blame him," Fluttershy said, nodding sympathetically. "They're simply awful, I hated it so very much."

Spike shook his head. "Wonderful," he said with expansive sarcasm.

"It's all right, Spike," she said consolingly. "At least you only have to do it once. I think. Unless you get famous. Which can happen. But probably won't. But it could. A dragon's certainly new, and they like new things. But still, probably not. Unless it does. Anyway, they don't make runways big enough for dragons..."

"I think y' might be freakin' him out a little," Macintosh murmured to her.

"Oh..." She studied Spike's fixed, glazed expression of horror and frozen body. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she said in a tiny voice.

"He'll be fine, he's a big strong feller," Macintosh assured her.

"Are you sure? I have some smelling salts in my cottage..."

"Eeyup, he'll be right as rain. Just a l'il shock, that's all. He'll snap outta it."

"Well, if you say so..." she said meekly.

"Now, by lucky happenstance I coincidentally seem t' be free fer the mornin'," Macintosh said with studied nonchalance, "so p'raps I can walk you where yer goin', Miz Fluttershy?"

She blushed prettily. "Oh my, well, you don't have to..."

"I'd like nothin' better," he said.

"Well, I'm going to the Post Office," she said shyly, hardly daring to look up at the big red stallion. "I go every Wednesday."

"Y' don't say," Macintosh said, his face the very picture of innocence.

"And then I meet Pinkie Pie at Sugarcube Corner..."

"Ain't it grand t' have good friends? Now, take my hoof, there's puddles from the rain most everywhere..."

"Oh, that's so very kind of you..."

"P'raps I can buy y' a daisy tea before y' have t' go?"

"That would be lovely..."

With their voices fading in his ears, Spike finally snapped out of his paralytic shock. The image of himself in one of Rarity's fantastical creations sashaying down a runway flickered back into his thoughts – he shuddered violently, all the skin on his back creeping.

Wait... Rarity!

He moved as fast as he dared through the town to Carousel Boutique, which in actual fact wasn't all that fast. Everypony was just so small, and he was afraid he'd knock somepony over by accident. Thankfully Carousel Boutique was fairly close. He exhaled in relief when it came into view, and delicately knocked on Rarity's door.

"Come in!" he heard her sing out.

"Um, I sort of can't," he called back.

"Spikey-wikey!" she trilled, throwing the door wide and stopping at the expression on his face. "Why darling, whatever is the matter?" she asked.

The whole story poured out of Spike, and she gasped and shook her head and tutted at exactly the right places. "My word, that is just simply horrible," she exclaimed. "An interview! Forcing you to do such a thing! Why don't they ever ask a pony who wants to!" Her voice rose sharply.

"Anyway, I don't think there's any getting out of it, it's all arranged," he said in a rush, "so I came here. You know the most about this sort of thing – what am I supposed to do?"

"Shhh." She patted his forepaw, and then carefully wiped the rainwater off on her ornate welcome mat. "Just be yourself, stay poised and keep calm, Spike," she said. "If you like, I'll come along with you."

He sagged with relief. "Oh, would you please?"

"Naturellement! Oh, I'm so glad you came here this morning, darling, otherwise I simply wouldn't have had time to prepare!"

"Prepare what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well." She held a hoof modestly to her chest. "It was meant to be a surprise, but... oh, I'm too excited, I have to show you!"

She flittered back into the Boutique, and Spike stuck his head inside after her.

"Ah-ah-ah!" She turned and frowned at him. "no smoking around the materials! Hold your breath or go outside, is that clear?"

He sucked in a breath and nodded. "Mmm-hmm."

"Good. I have delicate fabrics in here that might," she shuddered, "discolour. Anyway, feast your eyes on this!"

'This' proved to be a long narrow sheet of cloth perhaps thirty ponystrides long in striped purple and green. Spike tilted his head and tried to ask the question with his eyes.

"Why, it's a scarf, can't you see?" she asked, and her horn flared. The scarf flew from her hooves and wrapped tightly and firmly around his neck, and Spike almost lost control of his breath right then and there.

"Oh that is simply darling!" Rarity crooned. "The colours, spot on – oh, I have done it again, I have done it again! So charming, and yes, the length is just right for you!"

Spike tugged his head out of the door just in time, and his smoke-laden breath soared harmlessly over the Boutique. He looked down at the scarf and then at Rarity. "It's so soft," he said stupidly. He had a sapphire in the library that Rarity had once given him, but this was on a whole different level.

"Only the very finest at Carousel Boutique, Spike," she said, trotting back to the doorway.

"The length is just right?" he wondered as he carefully lifted one end. "Seems a bit long."

She sighed. "Spike, you persist in forgetting a very basic fact. Long now, maybe. Not long always."

He sat back on his haunches to look at it some more; a ploy to keep his blushing face turned away from Rarity. "It looks finished to me. What has to happen to it?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she said absently, studying his scales against the scarf with satisfaction.

"Well, you said prepare..."

"Oh, not much." She waved a hoof airily. "I was going to stud the tassels with emeralds and amethysts, but then I thought that would only serve as temptation. So I thought I might make a matching hat..."

"Ah, that's not necessary," said Spike quickly. He couldn't imagine how ridiculous he'd look with one of Rarity's be-feathered and bejewelled creations on his head. "The scarf is really amazing on its own. I think a hat would just detract from it. Don't you?"

"Yes, yes, simplicity, purity, of course," she mused. Then she eyed Spike shrewdly. "Is Twilight coming this afternoon as well?"

Spike shuffled his claws. "Um."

She tsked. "Spike. Turn your scaly derriere around and tell her. I don't care what silly notion you have in your head this time; she will want to know."

He hung his head. "I know."

She raised her eyebrows, her blue eyes stern. "If I don't see her at the photo shoot, I will tell her myself."

"Okay, okay!" he said resentfully. Then he closed his eyes with a sigh, and opened them to look at her. "Thanks, Rarity."

"Au contraire." She smiled. "it was quite the engaging challenge. I wonder if there isn't an entire untapped market out there? Dragons must surely get cold in winter, what with the whole..." she waved her hoof randomly, "cold-blooded... thing. Perhaps that's something for the next catalogue, hmm?"

He touched the scarf again, and decided not to mention that his fire kept him fairly warm all year round. Perhaps he had a shot at getting a present next year.

"Now go and talk to Twilight!" She shooed him away and he grinned sheepishly.

He made his way back through Ponyville feeling a lot calmer. Ponies glanced up at his nice new scarf curiously, and he held his head up a little prouder. He had a gift from Rarity. A specially-made gift, just for him. Though his mind kept flicking back to his conversations with both Razorfang and Princess Luna, he firmly pushed them aside. What matter that he would outlive her? What matter that she was a tiny, dainty pony and he a big lumbering dragon? He would still worship her and the gift from her hooves.

In all the excitement, he'd forgotten Princess Celestia's letter. It was wet against the cobbles when he arrived back at the square, and Twilight was standing next to it, her eyes following the lines rapidly. Guilt washed over him. He halted abruptly as her gaze lifted to his.

"I like your scarf," she said.

"It was a present from Rarity," he said uneasily.

"Come here, Spike," she said in a calm tone, and he slowly sidled up to her. "I'm not angry," she continued, "I'm not even disappointed. I just wish I could say the same for the Princess."

Spike averted his eyes.

"You should have told her, Spike," she said implacably. "If you're serious about wanting to stay here with me and the others, you're going to have to remember that there are certain rules that govern this town. And number one is that it is Equestrian, and Princess Celestia cares about everypony in it. That includes you."

"I'm sorry, Twilight," he said in a small voice. "Can you forgive me?"

She snorted and batted at his scarf with one hoof. "It's the Princess you need to say that to. You're just lucky I sent that letter. She'd be even more hurt if the wait had been longer."

"Yeah, I know," Spike said, eyes sliding to the ground again.

"So why didn't you write?" she asked.

"I did... I just..." He squirmed a little. This situation with the Princess had been the whole substance of his brooding earlier that morning, and he wasn't even sure how to explain his conclusions.

He knew that he didn't want anypony endangered because of him. This whole mess was his fault, and he needed to see it through. He didn't want Princess Celestia or Princess Luna or especially Twilight to bear the full brunt of Razorfang's malice and cruelty. He guessed that even immortal alicorn sky goddesses could be burned by dragonfire. He knew that unicorns could.

And there was another reason, far stranger and more selfish; somewhere deep inside him had awoken a fierce pride at Razorfang's challenge. His fear of the huge creature and his dread of death were still as healthy as ever, but that peculiar egocentricity that constituted territory was screaming silent defiance almost constantly. It was his village and his library and his friends, and thus his fight. His, Spike's, and nopony else's. Half of him wanted to crow proudly like a rooster from the rooftops, and the other half wanted to hide like a mole - and never come out. Worst of all, he didn't have the faintest idea how to explain it to Twilight.

Horseapples, but he was so confused. Territory and hopelessness, pride and fear, sorrow and greed, worry and laughter, shame and love... he was vaguely amazed his head wasn't exploding from the sheer pressure of it all.

Twilight tapped his knee with one hoof. "All right, wake up. You've been standing there looking pole-axed for a whole minute. Did Big Macintosh turn up this morning?"

"No, wait," he said urgently, snapping out of it. "I have to tell you something..."

He told her the Mayor's mad idea and the even madder reasoning behind it, about the reports of growing dragon-prejudice outside the environs of Ponyville, and about his fear that he was about to become a big, purple target. "And I don't even know how to talk to reporters, Twilight!" he concluded, waving his claws in the air in frustration. "They're gonna ask me things and I won't know what to say!"

She looked at him disbelievingly. "How do you get yourself into these things, Spike?"

"It's a gift," he said wryly.

"Well, Mayor Mare's got a point," she said, "but I can see your reasoning too. I think you're right, though - she didn't give you a chance to protest because it's all already organised."

"I hate being right," he groused.

"Now that I don't believe," she said archly. "You just have to stay calm, okay? Answer the questions politely, and if you don't know, then you don't know. Three o'clock, did you say?"

Spike nodded.

"Then you've got plenty of time for some practise, don't you?" she said. "Come on. If you do an hour of writing practise, an hour of fire-practise, lift up Tom twenty times to strengthen your chest and back muscles and pick up all your apples at lunch, I promise I'll give you another moustache."

"Won't be as good," he sighed.

"I'll try my horn off."

"You can't buy me with moustaches," he said with wounded dignity.

"I'll make it cuuuurlyyyyy," she cajoled.

He gave her a sidelong look. "You're on, Sparkle."


~**~



The moustache wasn't nearly as luxuriant as the one he had sported as a baby, and Twilight had practically drilled her hooves through the ground trying to conjure it, but it was marvellously, magnificently curly. He twirled it around his claws with debonair flair all afternoon until, sooner than expected, the magic wore off. It disappeared with a soft 'pop!' as they made their way towards the Town Hall.

"Aw," he lamented. "My moustache!"

"Well, I know what I'm giving you on your birthday this year." Twilight smiled. "You wouldn't have been able to wear it in the photos anyway, Spike. Nopony would believe that you're only a kid with that thing on your face!"

"But... my moustache!" He turned puppy eyes on her. "I worked hard for that moustache!"

"So did I," she replied dryly, and he harrumphed.

"But Tom is heavy," he grumbled. "First Rainbow Dash tries to kill me, and now you."

She lifted her eyes heavenwards. "Riiight," she drawled. "So you're gonna try and build up your flight muscles lifting feathers, then?"

"Oh, ha, ha," he said witheringly. "Still too heavy," he added.

She poked him in the side, and he pulled a face at her.

"HOLD ZAT POSE!"

"Huh?" Both Spike and Twilight turned to where the voice had come from, and there was a sudden, blinding flash of light. Spike blinked furiously to clear the awful white blotches from his vision.

"Bah! Patheteek!"

Twilight squinted at the black, blue and white blur. "Photo... Finish?"

"Uh oh," Spike whispered. "Rarity's meeting us here."

"Oh, this'll be fun," Twilight whispered back sarcastically.

"Yes, it is I - Photo Finish!" the photographer declared in her heavy accent. "And you! You are spoiling... ze magics... with your talkings and your walkings. You will take ze pose once more – ze dragon with ze making of zer face and ze pony with ze hoof on zer dragon's side. You pose – now!"

Spike simply looked at Twilight in confusion. "Did you catch any of that?"

"Ooooooh," Photo Finish said approvingly. "Yes, yes, with zer frowning eyes and zer teeths shining in ze light and zer greyness of zer street behind all ze purples and blues and greens..." Another flash of light made Spike's sight fuzzy.

"Ow!" he complained.

"Can you stop that until we're ready?" Twilight said irritably, rubbing at her eyes.

"I, Photo Finish, live only for... ze magics," the pony declared, "And ze magics wait for nopony."

"Can they wait for a dragon just this once?" Spike grumbled.

"Waiting? Fah!" Photo Finish scoffed. Then she barked, "Pony out of shot!"

Twilight was whisked away with a strangled yelp.

"Now," the photographer breathed, "show Photo Finish somezing..."

The flash went off once more, and Spike sat down on his haunches heavily. The thump as he hit the cobbles was rather loud. He shook his head to clear the dancing spots of light from his vision.

"Yeeeesss," she said eagerly, snapping off a few more pictures. "So confused! So puzzled! The very picture ov bamboozlement! With zer purple largeness and zer teeth goink sparkle and ting! More light!" she barked, and two showily-dressed ponies immediately set up large spot lamps that made Spike feel as though he were undergoing some bizarre interrogation.

More photos got snapped, and Spike looked around for Twilight desperately.

"Less light!"

Spike grimaced, wings half-unfurling in annoyance.

"Good, good, with ze faces and ze wings! More light!"

Spike flinched, his wings flattening against his sides.

"Wunderbar!" Photo Finish crowed. Then the bark came once more: "Scarf comes off!"

A little gasp made Spike turn around, and he met the wide, upset eyes of Rarity. She was dressed to perfection in a set of beautiful rain-boots and a jaunty sequinned cape, but her face was filled with distress. She had lifted one hoof halfway to her mouth, pausing in the middle of the street in remembered hurt.

He straightened his neck, his jaw clenching.

"Scarf stays on," he said firmly as hooves froze in the action of reaching for him.

Photo Finish gasped, and then leaned forward to stare through her bug-eyed sunglasses at him. "But ze scarf is distracting! It takes away ze raw impact of zer dragon's natural power und size! Where is ze boldness? Where is ze statement?"

"What, you think it makes me look smaller?" Spike looked down at the overlong scarf in surprise, and then over at Rarity once more. She gave him a tremulous smile. "Well, it is just the right length for me," he said, smiling gratefully back at her.

"Oooh," breathed Photo Finish, and snapped another picture, "zer smile und zer warmth of ze eyes, yes..."

"Oh, and I'd like to mention that the scarf was made for me at Carousel Boutique," Spike said determinedly. "Can I do that?"

Twilight shrugged at him, elbowing from behind the two assistant ponies. "Well, you just did."

"In the article, I mean." He rolled his eyes. The flash went 'whomp' once more, and he shut them hurriedly. "Maybe it should be mentioned under the photos?"

"Yes, yes, Carousel Booteek, yes." Photo Finish dismissed this, and then huffed. "Scarf is too long. Dragon is terrible model, too stubborn, not obedient, not enough... magics. "

"I'll show her 'magics'," Twilight whispered to Spike, and he chuckled. Another flash went off.

"Excellent under ze light, shiny with all ze scales and such," conceded Photo Finish, snapping a few more pictures. "But where is ze refinement? Ze elegance? So clumsy. So awkward. Wide-angle camera only, ach, is too limiting. Oh, Floottershy! How I, Photo Finish, miss your delicate grace and your dainty little schneezes." She sighed. Then she barked, "Now! We finish!"

Her camera bounced and folded itself up, and Photo Finish immediately began walking away. Her assistants scrambled to pick up all the equipment as the photographer sauntered past him.

"That's it?" Spike asked, thoroughly perplexed.

The blue pony gave him an unimpressed look. "I, Photo Finish, have captured... ze magics. Now, we have the thing at the place, where we must make ze art bloom und live once more. And so..." She turned her head and gave the street a thousand-yard stare. "... We go!"

And abruptly, she was gone.

"That is one weird pony," Spike said, nonplussed. Rarity and Twilight came up to stand by him, and he gave them both a hopeful look. "Was that okay?"

Twilight giggled. "To be honest? You looked kind of lost the whole time."

"I'm sure they'll be lovely photos," Rarity said, "and Spike?"

"Yes, Rarity?"

"Thank you for..." She looked askance for a moment, and then up at him, "for not letting her take the scarf off you. It all felt like history repeating itself there for a moment, you know?"

"Well, thanks for making it just the right length," he said, grinning.

"I think I'm in a few of those photos," Twilight said, "and with me for scale, nopony's going to think you're that small just 'cos of a scarf."

"Oh, Twilight, of course not," Rarity sniffed, "but it's the illusion, don't you see? A designer needs to know these things. Even though Spike's size will be apparent, nopony's ever seen a dragon wearing a fuzzy scarf before, especially one that's too big for him. It makes him appear more accessible."

"You mean I don't look accessible?" he said in mock-surprise. "I'm gonna need another scarf."

Twilight shook her head and began to walk into the Town Hall. "Come on, you two. Let's get this over with."

After the two mares had entered the Hall, Spike stuck his head through the door and gently tested the width of the frame with his shoulders.

"No luck?"

"Nope," he sighed, and lay down on the front steps with his head inside.

"Well, it's nothing we didn't already know," Twilight said philosophically.

"I was really hoping I'd be able to do this inside." Spike laid his head on the cool floor. "This is embarrassing."

"Yes, I imagine it looks rather peculiar from the outside," Rarity said.

"Rub it in," Spike huffed. Smoke rose in a little puff from his nostrils.

When it cleared, a brown unicorn stallion with a fedora perched rakishly on his streaked black mane and horn was smiling at him glossily. "Heeeey!" he said a rich, oily sort of voice. "You must be the big guy I've heard so much about! Name's Scoop. Freelance reporter, and winner of the Ponitzer Prize two years running. Put it there!"

He held out a hoof. Spike took it awkwardly in his claw and shook very, very carefully.

"Hi, I'm Spike," he mumbled.

"Who doesn't know that, Spike, you're the next big thing, kid!" Scoop said in a jolly, cheesy manner. "So let's get ourselves comfy here, and we can get this show on the road, huh?"

Twilight and Rarity shared an alarmed look, before leaning closer to Spike. "Just keep calm," Rarity said in his ear. "I've had to do some interviews for Clotheshorse before, and the most important thing is not to lose your poise."

"Rarity," Spike muttered as Scoop pulled a notepad and a pencil from a saddlebag and settled himself down to begin writing, "I don't have any poise!"

"Yes, that is rather a problem," she said worriedly.

"Just be yourself and answer what you can," said Twilight.

"I'm doomed," Spike said gloomily.

"So, Spikey – can I call ya Spikey? – let's start with some basics, hey?" Scoop grinned a smarmy, shiny grin. Spike smiled weakly back. "You've been here how long?"

"Most of my life," Spike answered, his voice shaking a little. The pencil began scribbling frantically. "Uh, Twilight and I moved from... Canterlot... when I was..."

"He was a baby then," interjected Twilight.

"He was about so tall and very sweet," Rarity said indulgently, holding her hoof up to show his infant height.

"Nice, nice," Scoop muttered, horn flaring and pencil wobbling furiously. "Ticking all the demographic targets, love it, love it... and so you've never lived anywhere but Equestria? Never with other dragons, f'instance?"

"No," Spike said. "I've always lived with ponies."

"What do you say to those parents who are worried that you're going to start behaving like a true dragon and begin eating foals?" asked Scoop conversationally, as though he hadn't just caved in Spike's chest with a metaphorical icepick. The words 'true dragon' rang in his ears like a struck bell.

"What...!"

"Spike would never do such a thing!" declared Rarity.

"I wouldn't! Who said this? What parents?" Spike gasped. "I've never eaten pony in my life! Twilight is my sister! I've barely ever eaten meat!"

"A vegetarian dragon!" Scoop exclaimed, his horn flaring and the pencil skittering across the page. "This is gold, baby, gold! How about how big you plan to get? You see any problems trying to fit into Equestrian society?"

Spike was still gasping. "Plan to get?"

Scoop shrugged. "Plan, grow, whatever."

"I don't have much choice!"

"He has good friends and a loving sister who will do anything to help him adjust," said Twilight firmly.

"Right, right." Scoop sounded a little disappointed in that answer.

"I can see a lot of problems trying to fit in," Spike muttered.

The pencil flicked to attention. "Oh yeah?"

Spike gave Twilight and Rarity a panicked look. They made encouraging gestures at him.

"Well, if you haven't kind of noticed, I don't even fit in the door," Spike said hesitantly. "It's going to be a lot of work, and I'm going to have to find a lot of ways to compromise. It'll be worth it in the end though... I get to stay here, in my home, with my friends, in my territory..."

"Ooooh, there's a loaded word, kiddo, good one, nice hook," Scoop said, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "So on that note, Spikey, what about any savage dragon instincts you're repressing? Think they'll come out in a blaze of big fiery death?"

Spike regarded the reporter incredulously. "Are you crazy?"

"It's a fair question." He shrugged. "So? How dragony are you?"

"Well... apart from the obvious," he snapped, "I don't actually know anything about being a dragon at all. How am I supposed to know what's dragon and what's just me?"

"Hmm." Scoop nodded intently. "So you're saying you don't actually know if you're about to turn all flame-monster-of-doom?"

"I'm saying," Spike grated, "I will never hurt anypony, ever. I don't eat them, I don't hunt them, and I'm kinda fond of a few of them."

"Of course, the 'sister', right?" Scoop turned to Twilight. "That's you, huh?"

"Twilight Sparkle, Doctor of Magic," she said in an icy voice.

"Right, the Princess's little protégée, hm." He hummed, tapping the pencil against the notepad. "How do you reply to those ponies who say that keeping a dragon is a direct violation of Equestrian health standards and a threat to our way of life?"

"I say they should come and meet Spike," she said, evenly and acidly.

"How about the allegations that allowing you to keep the dragon is a blatant sign of Princess Celestia's growing instability?"

"I repeat, if the ponies who are saying this come and meet Spike, they will see that he is not dangerous. Princess Celestia knows that."

"There are some who consider that keeping a dragon in a pony settlement is cruel to both dragons and ponies alike," Scoop said, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, it's so much better to be dumped beyond Equestria where I know nothing and nopony at all," Spike said sarcastically. "Or better yet, into one of the great Forests of Equestria where the resident dragons will barbecue me alive for trespassing."

"Besides, I don't keep him like he's some sort of pet," Twilight said, her expression stony. "He's his own dragon, he keeps himself most of the time."

"You hatched him, right? As part of the entrance examination to the School for Gifted Unicorns?"

"That's right."

"The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Dragons considers that entrance exam a violation of draconic rights, and that taking eggs from their parents for a test of magic is cruel and barbaric. What answer can you give them?"

Spike blinked. "There's a society?"

Twilight set her jaw. "I would say that I had no choice in the matter. I was a foal myself, too young to consider any ethical quandaries. But even if I could go back in time, I wouldn't change hatching and raising Spike for the whole of Equestria."

"A society?"

"And Spikey, what do you think your real parents would think of your life amongst ponies?"

He looked helplessly at the reporter. "I haven't ever really thought about it – a society? You're kidding?"

"Twilight, you had to take on the nurturing role to a creature that will outweigh you a hundred times over? How do you manage to be his authority figure?"

"Creature?" Spike protested.

"He was smaller than me until a few years ago," she answered in a controlled voice. "Besides, Spike has enough respect for me to listen to what I say. Mostly," she added for Spike's own benefit. He gave her a sheepish look.

"What about the accusation that your relationship with the dragon is..." Scoop paused delicately, "unhealthy?"

"WHAT?" Spike roared.

"Spike, calm down," Twilight hissed. He panted in fury, smoke billowing in gusts from his mouth, before getting himself under control. Twilight turned back to the stunned reporter and fixed him with a furious look. "Spike is my little brother, and I love him," she spat. "I would never hurt him!"

"Twilight is my big sister," Spike snarled. "And I love her!" The slimy insinuation made him see red. "I would die before I hurt her!"

Scoop swallowed hard. "Uh. Sorry."

Spike gritted his fangs and tried to calm his anger as the shaken reporter levitated his notepad again. The pencil wobbled nervously on the page.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Spike managed stiffly.

"You got quite a... set of lungs there, Spikey old pal," Scoop said, his voice faint. The fedora teetered as the reporter trembled.

Spike suddenly felt ashamed of himself. Here he was frightening a pony when he'd sworn he'd never do such a thing if he could help it. "I really didn't mean to," he said more sincerely. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, it's..." Scoop took a big, shaky breath and grinned. The grin was a lot less smarmy. "Shall we just move on?" he suggested.

"Excellent idea," drawled Rarity.

"Okay, uh... back to you... Spikey old pal," he said, and cleared his throat. "Do you... ahem... plan to settle in Ponyville permanently?"

"Yes," Spike answered promptly.

"And by permanently, do you mean really permanently? See, what I'm getting at is that dragons live..." Scoop began.

"Look, I know what you're going to say," Spike interrupted. "But Ponyville is home, and the ponies here are my family. Even when they d..." he broke off, and looked at the floor, blinking hard. There was a silence.

"Spike," Twilight breathed, horror-filled.

"Well," he rasped, and then shook himself, "Even when... then. It's still going to be home. And they'll have families too, and so their families will be mine. I'll look after them. I'll always look after them."

"Do you have any long-term plans for Ponyville?" Scoop asked in a more normal tone of voice.

"Well, I'm going to build a house, and I'm going to protect the town, and I'll, you know, just help out." Spike took a deep breath and then looked directly at Twilight and Rarity, trying to convey his absolute sincerity through his eyes. "I'll be here to help out for a long, long time."

The two unicorns gazed at him, dumbstruck. Twilight had tears in her eyes.

"Help out how?"

"Well, my friend Pinkie Pie had heaps of ideas," Spike said. "I've already started. I moved a rock that was blocking the old stream to the lake the other day."

"What else do you plan on doing?" Scoop leaned forward.

"At the moment I'm learning a lot of stuff," he said with a little sigh. "It's hard work. But I'm hoping to give skyrides to unicorns and earth ponies once I learn to fly, and when I've gotten better at handling my fire I'll be able to help with heaps of things, like heating water and Winter Wrap-Up. Plus I'll be able to cook again!"

"You like to cook?" Scoop asked, taken aback.

"He makes the best dandelion and wild rocket quiche you have ever tasted," said Twilight. Her eyes had not left Spike, and understanding and sorrow glimmered in their purple depths.

"Seriously?" Scoop pulled a face. "Dragons who cook, who knew."

"We did," Rarity pointed out a little smugly.

Scoop flicked through his notepad, frowning. "I think we're just about done," he said, more than a smidgeon of relief in his voice. "Any closing remarks?"

"Yes," Rarity said with aspersion. "Drop the smarmy act, it's terribly gauche and annoying."

"I think he's asking Spike," Twilight murmured, still gazing at him.

He gave her a small, sad smile before turning back to Scoop. "Look, I know that my staying here is going to freak a lot of ponies out at first," he said. "But I'm not like all the stories, I promise. I'm working really hard to make sure I can't hurt anypony, even by accident. And it's scary, I know, to meet somepony so much bigger and stronger than you – believe me I know! But I'm just Spike on the inside, and I'm not really that different from Twilight or Rarity or you. I'm just a kid still, a kid who loves his friends and family and home."

"Nice," Scoop said appreciatively. "Very nice. That's the best quote yet."

"I just hope that everypony gets used to the idea eventually." Spike sighed again and lowered his head onto his paws. Twilight immediately laid her cheek against his forehead.

The reporter's horn glowed and the notepad and pencil zipped back into the saddle-bag. "I think that's a wrap," he said, exhaling. "Sorry for..."

"The crass insinuations? The horribly intrusive questions?" Rarity bit.

"It's my job to ask 'em, lady. I gotta," he said apologetically. "If I don't, everypony else will. For what it's worth, I hope this works out for you, Spikey."

"Thanks," Spike said grudgingly, and he pulled himself out of the doorway so the reporter could exit. Scoop doffed his fedora as he left, and began trotting up the overcast street.

Twilight and Rarity joined Spike on the Town Hall steps. "Well, that was horrible," he said.

"Well, it's all over now," Rarity said.

"Thank Celestia," Twilight added.

"I'd better get back to the shop, dears," Rarity said in a subdued voice. "Sweetie will be home from school any minute."

"Rarity? Thanks," Spike said quietly.

"Any time," she said with a small, tight smile. Spike watched her go, her cape sparkling against the grey, wet street.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Twilight asked softly.

Spike immediately knew what she meant, and shook his head. "No. I'm not going to mourn for the future," he said, though his heart twisted inside him. "I'm not."

"That's a very deep insight," she said, leaning against his foreleg.

"Princess Luna came to see me," he confessed. "She helped with all the stuff Razorfang said to me. She came up with that one - I'm not that clever."

"Don't put yourself down like that," Twilight scolded him, and pressed her head against his foreleg tenderly.

He snaked his head down to nuzzle her mane. "Don't be sad for me, Twilight."

She nosed him softly, her eyes squeezing shut. "Don't forget me, will you?" she whispered.

"That's crazy talk." He smiled, his throat tight and his heart full. "Like I could ever forget you."


~**~



Dear Princess Celestia,

I'm so sorry. You're right when you say I should have told you, and you're right when you described all the reasons. I'm ashamed that I didn't think to write to you straight away, and I should have known that you'd want to know, not only for Ponyville's sake but for mine as well.

The reason I didn't tell you, well, I hadn't really thought about why until I received your letter. Then I started thinking about it, and I came up with two reasons. I don't know if they're any good, and they're sure not an excuse. 

The first one is that I don't want anypony to get hurt because of my mess. I'd never forgive myself, ever, especially if it were somepony I care for. That does include you and your sister, Princess. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings. 

The second one is hard to explain. I spoke to the dragon of the Everfree Forest, and he started telling me about territory. I realised I've been territorial my whole life without really knowing it, and I think this was related. I sort of consider the library mine, you see, and that's starting to change to include all of Ponyville. A little voice inside me keeps screaming that I should be the one to protect it and nopony else. It sounds stupid when I write it down, but it's true.

Like I said, I don't know if these make any real difference. I just thought I owed you an explanation. I really am so sorry. 

So you're aware, I've done an interview that's apparently going out in a whole bunch of newspapers around Equestria. It was the Mayor's idea. There's a group of ponies from outside Ponyville who are seriously anti-dragon, and she received a report that they were becoming stronger and more organised. I'm hoping this article might deter some of them, but mostly I think it paints a big fat target on my big purple back. 

Your friend,

Spike

P.S. I've asked Twilight to read this letter so she also knows my reasons. I haven't done a very good job of being open with my friends lately. I promise I'll work on it.

P.P.S. You or your sister wouldn't have enough magic to affect a fully-grown dragon, would you? I know you said you didn't have the authority to step over draconic tradition, but maybe just this once? Please?

P.P.P.S. Tell your sister hi.