Stallions on Strike!

by Aegis Shield


Spike Shatters

Stallions on Strike!
Part 3: Spike Shatters

Spike was perched atop the table in the middle of the library, smiling to an audience that wasn’t there. He was dressed in his bright pink cooking apron, holding a feather duster and pretending to get at a dusty corner when the time called for it, or if somepony came by. He glanced down at the book that was propped open in front of him on the table, then held his duster high and softly whispered, “She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day!” he recited without looking down at the book again even once. He smiled proudly at himself, mumbling over the next few lines as his invisible audience looked on with fascination. He imagined his apron was a fancy-stitched shawl, his handkerchief headpiece a fancy, feathered hat. He was on stage, he was the star! He—!

“Spiiiike!” Twilight called, tearing up out of the basement. The little dragon hopped down quickly, snapped the book shut and was halfway to the shelf when his mistress/mother figure emerged. “I need that book on plants, molds and fungi from the middle era!” she said, rushing from shelf to shelf fretfully. “My potion will never work without it!”

Spike rolled his eyes, sauntering to a shelf and pulling it easily. How did he know where it was so fast? Twilight re-shelved the whole darn library at least once a week. Given that Rainbow Dash didn’t crash through the window again, or any other shenanigans, that is. Then it would be more. The purple dragon was small in stature, but brilliant in mind. “Here it is, Twilight.” He said, offering it up.

“Thanks!” Twilight grabbed it and rushed back downstairs into her lab.

“*Hhh*, you’re welcome.” Spike grumbled. He followed her downstairs to see just what she was up to this time around. “What’re you making Twilight?” he asked, setting his feather duster on the stairs.

“It’s a potion that can change the color of your eyes.” Twilight said, flipping pages as she went. Squinting over the text and refusing to use her reading glasses as usual, the young mare got a glass jar from the shelf and emptied the contents into her brewing stand.

“Why would you wanna make one of those?” Spike wanted to know, peering over the bubbling mix. Twilight quickly shuffled him back with a hoof, scowling a little. “I mean uh, that does sound fascinating, but… why?”

“Same as mane-coloring or fetlock care.” Twilight said, waving a few fumes towards the vent so it didn’t stink up the whole place. Getting her stirring rod, she turned it over a few times. “Some ponies just want something different than what they have naturally.” She said absently.

“Are you making that for yourself?” Spike said uncertainly. “You look great like you are!”

“Spike!” Twilight barked, mildly embarrassed. “Y-you… have you finished your dusting and all that? Did you sweep the stoop like I asked? We’ve both got chores you know!” she steered the conversation at him, red touching her cheeks.

“Er, w-well…” Spike said, hiding his duster behind his back.

“Go on, now. This is mare’s work. Not for baby dragons to worry over.” She favored him with a kiss on the forehead, herding him back towards the stairs. “Just call me when lunch is ready, and we’ll have it out on the balcony, okay?” she smiled, trying to be kindly again.

“Oh. Uh, okay.” Spike felt himself being drafted into making lunch. Again. He trudged back up the stairs, looking over his shoulder as Twilight got an eyedropper’s full of something to add to the mix. He sighed, making sure the basement door was wide open so Twilight didn’t suffocate from the fumes of her experiment or something. Opening the library’s front door to allow a cross-breeze, he went back to work.

Dusting. Cleaning. Shaking out the rugs. Starting lunch. Making the beds. Changing the laundry… pretending NOT to see the long silky socks in one of Twilight’s drawers that was occupied by something phallic-shaped. He took the curtains down and shook those out too. Got the mail. Swept the stoop. Triple checked the stacks for anything that might’ve escaped a shelf.

The baby dragon sighed, slowing and coming back to his Shakespony book. He wished he could… act. He really did. The Hearths Warming play had really opened his eyes to the idea, and he’d never felt so alive as when he was on stage. He’d asked Twilight to let him join an acting group, but no, they travelled and she couldn’t have him running around with strangers. So, he went to the local school to ask about their drama club. Cheerilee had appeared a few days later with a permission slip for Twilight to sign, but the lavender mare had turned that down too. With all the chores, adventures with their friends, letters to and from the Princess—he surely didn’t have the time! What if he belched up a royal letter in the middle of a performance? How silly would that make him look? So, Spike ventured to the local theatre group. They did ‘Shakespony in Summer’, and they never hopped towns. That would be better, right? A local group? Again, Twilight had headed him off, though. Those were grown ponies and it was for actors eighteen and older. Since Spike was only sixteen in pony years, and a baby dragon to boot, he wasn’t qualified. It wasn’t fair.

Spike wilted, taking off his handkerchief head-tie, putting it on the table. Glumly, he went and got his Shakespony book again. He flipped it open to where he was. Even with all the chores and other things to do, he could still dream, right? “Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow…” he murmured softly. He found his place and went a bit further. “To the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools,” He leaned on the table, a bored expression on his face as he tried to sink into the text and forget what was around him. “The way to dusty death.” The purple dragon sank into a chair. “Macbeth sure knows how to be depressing, huh?” he asked no one at all. He understood the text, even having not gone to school at all. Living in a library gave him a sharp, brilliant mind. Macbeth’s ultimate conclusion about life was that it was brief, devoid of meaning, and full of struggles. He sighed, flipping the book closed. Perhaps Macbeth wasn’t the best play to be reading right now, with his mood. He checked in the oven, getting the little woven basket meant for outside meals.

He wasn’t unhappy with his life, Twilight took very good care of him... sort of? Well, he lived with her in her home, anyway. Most of the time he was making the meals and doing the laundry and such while she went on with her scholarly pursuits. She left him behind when she went on adventures with her friends, most of the time, too. They bordered somewhere between mother and son, and brother and sister. But more and more as he grew up, Spike began to feel less fulfilled. It felt more like master and homebody. He wanted more. He wanted to be able to do what he wanted, not just take care of the purple mare downstairs. She wasn’t unkind or mean to him, but… but he just wanted more. Why wasn’t he allowed to go to school? Or take acting lessons? Or join a summer camp program and do plays? The Hearths Warming play had been a cruel thing, in a way, showing him the most fun he could ever have— then never letting him have it again. Oh buck it. He was unhappy. He was really unhappy. But what could he do? He was too small, too young, too everything. He was stuck.
Feeling helpless, Spike rested his chin in his hands, heaving a deep and depressed sigh. Some days were better than others, but he wanted to be more than just a homebody. If he were a stallion, he’d at least have gone to school and made more friends. If he were a mare, he could do pretty much whatever he wanted. And, until a couple of hundred years when by and he was a giant of a dragon… he was stuck here. That was a long time. Until then, he wasn’t anything. He was just… just the faithful assistant. “*Hhhhh*…” he sighed aloud, drawing little circles on the table with the pad of his finger.

Something in the kitchen dinged, snapping Spike out of his thoughts. He rose, coughing a bit and wiping his eyes. Quickly gathering up the tomato lasagna he’d made, he put it in a nice insulated pan and got plates, forks, plenty of napkins, drinks, and everything else needed. Quickly going and setting everything out on the upper balcony of the Golden Oaks library, he turned to go fetch Twilight Sparkle. But something caught his eye.

Big Macintosh, Mr. Cake, and Caramel were stomping down the street single file. They looked pretty angry. Tilting his head, Spike saw they were carrying signs on their backs and holding them as well. ‘Stallions on Strike!’, ‘We Demand Equal Rights!’, ‘Mares Should Work Hard Too!’, ‘Too Much Hard Work!’, and ‘Stallions are not Slaves! Equal Pay!’ were among them. What in the hay were they doing? Spike watched them file past the library and go up to a random stallion. He was a great, muscled thing with tiny wings and blood red eyes. They chatted at him for a time while Spike watched. Then, they turned and started pointing things out.

Mr. Cake showed the muscled stallion different ponies all around them on the street, pointed to nearby businesses, then towards Canterlot, and all sorts of things. Spike grew curious, scratching his head. The massive stallion’s mouth fell open, and his expression turned shocked. He facehoofed and made some violent gestures. The group of stallions gave him a sign that read ‘Down with the Mare!’ and he waved it around wildly. Spike chuckled a little, bit then frowned a bit as his eyes slid over the signs again. “Mares do do hard work, don’t they? AJ works on a farm, and Rarity runs her own shop…” he decided to go down and talk to them, and see just what they were up to.


=-----=-----=-----=-----=


“Spiiiiike!” Twilight came up the stairs several hours later, “It’s almost evening! What happened to lunch?! I lost track of time, but now I’m starv… ing?” she emerged into the main library room, only to find it empty. The front door was open. The kitchen was no occupied, and there was no baby dragon to speak of. “Spike? Where’d you go?” she made a quick circuit through all the rooms in the tree-house, and even poked her head out all the windows. No Spike. “Did he go somewhere?” she wondered. “Where could he possibly have to go? He’s a baby dragon!” she rolled her eyes a bit, smiling. “I bet he went to go see Rarity, haha!” she shook her head, getting her saddlebags to go and fetch her wayward charge. She loved the little guy, but he really needed to stop chasing mares that much older than him. Or mares in general, really. Hmm. Well, that sounded a little racist, but she meant well. The poor guy would outlive anypony by hundreds of years. It wasn’t proper.

Twilight didn’t get much more than a block from her home when she spotted an odd spectacle in the street. There was a group of stallions standing in front of an ice cream stand, passing out ice cream to each other. Big Macintosh, Mr. Cake, Snowflake, Caramel, and… Spike? Since when did he hang out grown ponies like that? Cocking her head, she made a bee-line for them. “Oh hey, there she is. Hey, Twilight.” Spike said from atop Big Mac’s back. The herd of males turned and fixed her with rather pointy stares.

The purple mare stopped short, cocking her head. “Uh, hehe, hey Spike. I was wondering where you wandered off to…” she said, lifting a hoof like she might bolt from all the glares.

“I’m here striking with the guys.” Spike held up a mini-sign that read ‘Representation In Local Government Based on Gender Ratios As Voted by Local Democracies Under the Diarchy!’ Twilight puzzled over the rather complex statement for a moment, and when she’d worked it out she stared at the other signs.

“Striking? From what? You don’t have a paying job.” The purple mare said with a frown.

“That’s right! I don’t!” he stood angrily, feeling tall on Big Mac’s back. The other stallions gasped in shock. He was Twilight’s faithful assistant and he didn’t even get paid for all his work?! “I guess that makes me a slave, huh Twilight?!”

“A slave?!” Twilight said, her brow knitting in worry. “That’s not true! You’re my assistant! I rely on you more than anypony! What would I do without you?”

“Cook your own meals, do you own laundry, and actually do a librarian’s work, for ONCE?” Spike said a little nastily. Twilight gaped at him, more than a little stunned. The combined glares of the four stallions with him didn’t help either.

“What?” Twilight frowned. “I have work too, you know. I’m the Princess’ protégé and a research scientist. I don’t have time to cook and clean and do all the rest of the little things around the house.” The glares only deepened. “What?!” she asked reproachfully. Going on the defensive at last, she leaned back. “That’s what I have an assistant for!”

“Ah-HAH! She admits it!” Mr. Cake shouted. “Slave-driver!”

“C-come on Spike, let’s get back home. We missed lunch and I’m sure we can find something in the kitchen you can make to eat and talk this whole thing o—!”

“Cuz stallions belong in the kitchen, am I right?!” Caramel said angrily, prodding Twilight sharply in the chest. The purple mare jittered back, spooked. The gathering of stallions glared at her. Mr. Cake looked particularly upset about the claim. “In the kitchen and out in the muddy fields, right?!”

Big Mac nodded along, patting Spike’s head in a protective way without taking his eyes of Twilight Sparkle. Then, she’d had quite enough. Her patience had run out. Twilight Sparkle scowled angrily, “You’re coming home with me, young dragon, or so help me—!”

“YEAAAHHHH?!” Demanded Snowflake, sauntering up to her and snorting steam from his muzzle. By then, several ponies on the street had stopped to stare. Twilight looked back and forth nervously. The group moved back a bit, away from Twilight, but she pressed forward. She would not be letting them just take her charge away with them.

“You give him back!” Twlight shouted, trying to force her way through the throng. “Spike come back here! You belong with me!” she said a little desperately. “What’s going on?! Why’re you acting like this?!”

“Cuz you won’t even let me go to school!” Spike said over his shoulder to Twilight. “Cuz you won’t let me act! And make me do all the household chores! And run off with your friends, without me, all the time!” He traded signs with Big Mac. Stallions on Strike! All the stress and depression was flowing out of his tiny purple body as rage, now.

“Give him back!” Twilight teleported in front of the group with a crack of parted air. They moved around to one side of her. “He’s my responsibility! I don’t want him hanging around you guys if you’re out to cause trouble.” She gestured to their inflammatory signs.

“I’m fine right where I am!” The baby dragon shrieked, clenching his tiny fists. “You don’t OWN me!” Spike said savagely. More and more ponies were turning their heads at the bachelor herd. One or two were peeking out from second story windows, and one stuck his head out of a barber shop where he worked.

The group of stallions kept shifting to get away from Twilight Sparkle, grumbling angrily as she always got in the way. They turned and murmured at each other. Could they stampede through her? Nah, she might get hurt. Could they just stay in one spot? Nah, that was boring. Couldn’t they just—?

Twilight’s eyes lidded, and her brow drew down into a deeper sort of anger. Possessive, darker anger. Her face went red and her temper snapped. “Give. Him. BACK!” Twilight’s horn exploded with raw magic and blasted Snowflake square in the chest! The massive stallion yapped like a kicked puppy as he tumbled and smacked into a street sign. His nose was bloodied and dripping on the ground. His eyes were in swirls and he twitched a few times.


There was icy silence.


The bachelor herd stopped to stare in shock. Spike leapt down to make sure he was still alive. He turned and looked up at his mistress with scared, soft eyes. Twilight instantly regretted what she’d done. The ponies all around them on the street stared in horror. “First blood, what do you know.” Caramel whispered icily, turning his glare on Twilight. He knelt down on all four knees to help Snowflake back up. “I was sure this wasn’t gonna go to violence. Guess I was wrong.” He checked Snowflake for any more injuries, but he seemed okay. Heaving the white stallion to his hooves again took some effort, though.

Twilight was mortified, but she could already hear the clanking of armor rushing up behind her. “O-oh my gosh, I-I’m sorry!” The purple mare was grabbed and cuffed by a pair of royal guards. “I-I didn’t mean it!” she said.

“You’re under arrest for assault with magic!” One guard told her.

“Takes a reeeeeal strong mare to beat on a stallion, huh?!” the other sneered.

The purple mare was mortified. “W-wait! I’m sorry! I-It just happened! I didn’t mean it! Snowflake’s fine! Lookit him, he’s fine!” Snowflake was scrubbing at his nose, quite alright to tell the truth. But it didn’t hide the stain of blood he’d gotten on one of his legs from rubbing his nose. Twilight was dragged away, kicking and shrieking. “I-I was just---! I was just---!” she was sobbing by then, and couldn’t finish her sentence. “Let me go! Let me go! Spike, I love you! Spiiiiiike!” Her voice faded with distance as they took her away.

The bachelor herd pressed in around Spike, patting his head a few times. There were tears in the little dragon’s eyes. “Twilight, why’d you go and do that…?” He mumbled, climbing up onto Big Mac’s back again.

“I guess that’s what happens when the mare doesn’t get her way, huh?” Mr. Cake murmured with disapproval as Twilight shrank into the distance of the end of the street. He glanced over, spotting his wife in the crowd. His heart stung a little. But, he couldn’t waver now. He’d known things would get bad before they got better. Big Mac would lead them. “What do we do now?” he asked the crimson pony.

Big Mac pondered for a time. What DID they do now? The spark had been struck. No doubt the entire town would be ablaze about them within a few days. He cocked his head, then nodded at nothing at all. He gestured and, with Spike on his back, led his odd little all-male herd down the street. They were on strike, so now with a group ready it was time to go make their demands.



End of Part 3