The dragon and the pony slowly walked down the stony stairwell of the tower, the blistering cold of the up and coming snowstorm leaked through the cracks of the shattered glass windows. Rarity gave a little cough as she gingerly followed behind her captor. She had lost so much in so little time and she could barely find the energy and courage to keep moving. Keeping her head down, she could at least spare herself the view of the dragon’s backside, even if it was barely illuminated by the three-pronged candlestick he carried.
Said candlestick kept looking back at the mare and back at Spike. “You should say something,” she whispered. “Try and make her feel more comfortable.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” he growled.
“Did you say something?” asked Rarity.
“Hmm?”
“I asked if you said something,” the mare repeated.
“Oh… umm,” the dragon trailed off, looking to Pinkie Stick for advice. The brass candelabra neck cricked back slightly as she mouthed the words, ‘Say something.’
“Dragon?”
“I…just wanted to hope you would like it here…” Spike finally said. Rarity however, kept perfectly silent. Feeling the need to elaborate because of the growing silence and the frantic Pinkie, he continued. “Tr-try not to think of this place as a prison, this castle is your home now. You can go wherever you want on its ground. Except…for the west wing.”
“Why can’t I go-“
“It’s forbidden!” shouted the drake, his wings flaring up as he spun around. He flexed one of his claws as it lunged terribly close to Rarity’s neck, stopping short but a few inches away.
A look of anguish and shock sprang onto her face. The blood rushed out of her face and her complexion became pale and ghostly, even more so given her fair white fur.
Spike immediately withdrew his claw. “I-I… Don’t go in the west wing.”
“O-okay,” stuttered the unicorn as she continued to follow the dragon.
They eventually reached the bottom of the tower and back to the main part of the castle. It was the first time that Rarity could get a good look at it. The bland, bleak walls of the interior were clean and free of cobwebs, surprisingly well kept for such an ancient looking palace. Frayed banners running the colour of crimson and gold hung lazily from the ceiling between the brass chandelier. It was strange. Rarity had always dreamed of living in a castle, but now that she did, just wanted nothing more than to escape.
“This is your room,” said Spike, breaking the silence as they approached a large red door at the back of the hallway.
“Oh… Okay,” nodded Rarity, still refusing to make eye contact.
“If you need anything, my servants will attend to your every need.”
Rarity said nothing as she slowly walked into her room. It was highly decorated, if not a bit overdone. The large, princess size bed was neatly made and the floor was freshly swept. The room reminded her of her old room back at her Boutique. The one she would never see again.
Pinkie Stick frowned as Rarity walked away. “You should invite her to dinner,” she whispered to Spike.
“Why should I?” he whispered back.
“It would be the gentledrakey thing to do!” she smiled.
“Fine…” Spike droned.
Rarity turned her head. “Did you say something?” she asked.
“Yeah… You’ll… You will join me for dinner.”
“I…”
“That’s not a request!” he roared, slamming the door of the bedroom.
“That…could have gone better,” mumbled Pinkie Stick.
“Shut up,” grumbled Spike, dropping the candlestick and crawling away. “Tell Tankardjack to prepare a feast. I want her impressed.”
“Sure thing…” groaned Pinkie, picking herself up from the ground and hopping in the opposite direction. “I’ll get right on it.”
Meanwhile, Rarity had listened to the events outside. The dragon wanted to…impress her?
“Why in Equestria would he want to do that?” she asked herself. “I barely even know that…that father-stealing monster!”
Tears sprang from her eyes as she collapsed onto her bed. The silk of the sheets were soft against her fur, but not even sheets woven by angels could comfort her now. She was alone, all alone in the castle of a beast.
“Please stop crying…”
Rarity’s head shot up from the tear soaked pillows. “Who said that?” she called out. “Is somepony there?”
“Down here,” the voice said again as a little hoof rest scurried out from beneath the bed.
“EEK!” shrieked the unicorn, nearly jumping out of her fur. “What sort of witchcraft is this?!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Flutterbench apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just cleaning up some dust bunnies under the bed. Please don’t hate me! But I would understand if you did…”
“Are…” Rarity tried to say. “Are you a talking hoof rest?”
“Yes,” the talking bench squeaked.
“Did that dragon do this to you?” the mare asked. “That monster!”
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Flutterbench quickly sputtered. “Spike didn’t do this to us. It was…something else.”
“Spike… Is that the dragon’s name?”
“Yes,” nodded the yellow hoof stool. “And I’m sorry if he scared you. He can be a little scary sometimes…and all the time as well.”
“He’s barbaric!” said Rarity. “That…that thing is keeping me prisoner here.”
“I’m sorry…” the bench apologized once again.
“Oh sweetie,” sighed the unicorn. “It isn’t your fault. There’s probably nothing you could have done.”
“I know…but sometimes it makes ponies feel better when somepony apologizes, even if it wasn’t their fault.”
“You really are sweet… Good heavens, I don’t think I got your name, dear.”
“It’s Flutterbench… That’s what everypony calls me now,” she said.
“Did you have another name?” asked Rarity.
“My real name is Fluttershy, but Pinkie Stick thought it would be fun to change our names. I don’t really mind, really…”
“Well, I will call you whatever you prefer.”
“You can just call me Flutterbench,” she said. “I’ve gotten used to responding to it.”
“Very well, Flutterbench,” smiled Rarity. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Rarity.”
“Okay,” said Flutterbench, walking slowly over to the dresser. “So what would you like to wear for dinner tonight, Rarity?” she asked. “It’s been awhile since we used these dresses, but I think we can find something that you’ll like.”
“Dinner?”
“With Spike,” nodded the bench. “I know that Tankardjack will have something good cooked up really soon and it’s not a good idea to keep Spike waiting…” she shuddered at the thought. “No… I’ll fine something nice for you to wear.”
“That’s sweet of you, really,” the mare smiled weakly. “But I was actually thinking of not going to dinner. Being here… I’ve sort of lost my appetite.”
“What?! No!” gulped Flutterbench. “You have to attend dinner! Spike told you to do it and you can’t say no to him!”
“I can and I will,” frowned Rarity. “I’m not hungry in the slightest and being around that dragon would make me want to hurl.”
“Please…” begged Fluttershy. “You have to! If you don’t do it for him, do it for me please!”
“Why? What will he do to you?”
“Oh…umm, that’s not important,” she quickly said. “What is important is to give Spike a chance.”
“Give him a chance?!” Rarity growled. “After he imprisoned my father? After he took my life away? Why on Celestia’s green earth would I give that beast a chance?!”
Knock, knock, knock.
The light taps of the room’s door tied Rarity’s tongue. As the door slowly creaked open a small wooden clock quickly peaked through.
“Ahem,” said Twiclock. “Dinner is served everypony. Please allow me to escort our guest to the dinner hall.”
*****
Down in the main dining room, Spike, Tankardjack and Pinkie Stick were all waiting for their guest to arrive. The dragon was pacing nervously back and forth, his expression changing from stressed to angry constantly. Pinkie and Tankardjack were standing on the dining room table. The tankard cup was putting the final finishing touches on a vegetable quiche while the candlestick was hopping up and down with excitement.
“This is so exciting!” grinned Pinkie Stick, bouncing back and forth from table to table in the kitchen. “This is it, Tankardjack! The night that we finally break the curse!”
“Hold your horses there Pinkie,” said the tankard. “These things don’t just come and form overnight. It takes time, patience, and a little bit of romance.”
“But we don’t have time!” stressed Pinkie. “And we certainly don’t have patience or romance.”
“You know I’m right here!” sneered Spike.
“Sorry, big guy,” said Tankardjack. “I just want this to go right, you know?”
“Of course I know! I’m not a fool,” he said. “It’s the only thing that’s going through my head right now…”
“If we do this right we could break the spell!” clapped Pinkie Stick. “Then we can all be ponies again!”
“So it’s settled,” said Tankardjack. “Spike, you’ve got to woo Rarity off her hooves tonight.”
“No… Really?” the dragon muttered sarcastically. “It’s not that easy. I mean look at her! She’s so beautiful and I’m… I’m a monster.”
“Well, y’all certainty won’t win her over with your head in the hay!” frowned Tankardjack. “Get yer back straighter, clean those fangs.”
“Ooo! Ooo!” called Pinkie Stick. “And offer her cupcakes! Everypony loves cupcakes!”
“And be sure y’all are sincere and humble. Don’t go all self centered and pitiful on the girl.”
“And be sure to smile and shower her in complements!”
“But don’t be too talkative and bore her.”
“Don’t forget to be mysterious like a ninja spy!”
“And above all…”
“YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR TEMPER,” both household items said at the same time.
Spike was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the creaking of the door. The dragon quickly straightened himself out and tried his best to smile for his guess. He knew he had to try and make a good impression, even though his first one was terrible.
However, the only guest that appeared was Twiclock.
Spike’s strained smile drooped down. “Well? Where is she?” he asked, doing his best to sound calm, and failing to do so.
“Oh…umm, well you see Spike,” the clock laughed nervously. “She’s…not coming.”
“WHAT?!”
“Spike please calm down-“
“HOW DARE SHE REFUSE ME!” the dragon roared. “Me? Does she find it funny to keep torturing me like this?!”
“Please S-“
She didn’t get to finish. Spike jumped passed Twiclock and rushed into the hallway, reaching Rarity’s room within moments and banging hard against it.
“OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!” he demanded.
“No!” shouted Rarity from the other side. “I’m not hungry.”
“You’ll come out here this instance or I’ll… I’ll break the door down!”
“Umm, Spike…” whispered Pinkie Stick, lightly tapping against the dragon’s knee. “I don’t think that breaking the door could be seen as romantic.”
“Y’all could be a little more polite,” said Tankardjack.
“But she’s being so difficult!” gritted the drake.
“Please Spike,” begged Twiclock. “Attempt to be civil.”
“Fine…” he groaned, turning back to the door. “Would…you please accompany me…for dinner.”
“No, thank you!”
Spike pointed to the door, looking like he was seconds away from tearing something apart.
“Remember, be polite,” said Twiclock.
“It…would bring me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner,” he strained to say. “I insist.”
“No.”
“You can’t stay in there forever!” he yelled.
“Yes I can,” the mare replied.
“Fine!” the dragon roared. “Then go ahead and starve!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” stuttered Pinkie Stick. “What happened to being a gentledrake?”
“If she won’t dine with me, then she won’t dine at all!” He stormed down the hall. “She hasn’t changed a bit. I try to be nice, to be courteous and she spits in my face! I should have eaten her in that tower.”
“Oh dear…” sighed Twiclock. “I suppose we better go and clean up dinner. Pinkie, I want you to stay here and stand guard. Don’t let her out of her room per Spike’s orders.”
The candlestick shot up to attention as if she were a solider in the Canterlot guard. “Eye, eye Captain Sparkle!”
“Good,” said Twiclock. “Come on Tankardjack.”
“Okay Twi,” she said as the two hopped down the hallway and towards the kitchen to clean up, leaving Pinkie all alone to guard the door.
“Well, this is boring,” droned the candlestick. “I wonder what Rarity’s doing?” she asked herself, slowly opening the door and took a peek through the crack.
Rarity was sitting on her bed, her bed buried in one of the throw pillows as Flutterbench tried to comfort her.
“Oh, try to cheer up. Please?” asked the hoof stool. “It’ll all be all right.”
“No it won’t,” moped Rarity. “How can anyone be optimistic in a place like this? And with that dragon… He’s horrible!”
“But…you two could become friends if you got to know him better,” Flutterbench. “My mother always told me to give ponies a chance.”
“But that’s the thing Flutterbench,” she said. “I don’t want be his friend. I don’t want anything to do with him!”
She continued to cry into the pillow, sobbing away in her misery. Pinkie Stick slowly closed the door, making sure not to alert them.
“Well, this is no good,” she thought t herself. “I have to fix this, but how?”
It took nearly two seconds for her to come up with a plan.
“Duh! Of course!” she yelled excitedly. “This problem can be solved the way all problems can be solved!” She smiled. “With a song! And not just any song… Oh I’m so excited…”
This…is…it, this is it,
You asked for it, here it is!
Nothing would make be happier to sing and grant your wish,
I’m so happy, I could scream!
You don’t know how much this means!
Pretty soon, I’ll be dancing,
Don’t believe me? I’ll start prancing!
I will sing, get my fill
After all, it’s Ponyville,
And a song sung here is never second best!
Get all ready, are you? To make my big début,
This is it, this is it!
This is it!
Know my marks, know my cues
Know my rhythm, yes I do,
Hearts a flutter I could jump and fly into the very air!
You’re alone, and you’re scared,
But I always come prepared,
Nopony’s gloomy or complaining,
When Pinkie Stick is entertaining!
I tell jokes! Perform tricks
It’s not hard, it’s quite a snitch!
And it’s all in great fun that you can bet!
The time has come today!
Scream hip-hip-hip hooray!
This is it, I don’t jest,
I’ll be singing be our guest!
Oh this is it, this is it, this is it!
Life, it has no meaning,
For a candlestick not singing,
No streamers, cake, or melody to call...
Ah, those good old days when I could party…
Laughing, playing, and singing all day long…
A whole year I’ve been rusting,
My vocal cord (cough!), they need dusting,
An audience, an ear to call upon…
Most days, I sit around eating cupcakes…
Flabby, fat, lazy
She come in and oopsy daisy!
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!
Get the table spick and posh!
It reserved, but it will serve,
Tonight, as our singing spot,
Dinner theatre, staring thee,
And my dear that’s fine with me!
While the others are off cooking,
I’ll be prepping, I’ll be looking,
For a song!
Ready or not,
Goodness me, is it getting hot?
Heartbeats racing, I want the company impressed!
It’s a really great show!
The bestest song you know!
This is it!
This is it!
This is it!
This is it, this is it,
Getting at it super quick!
Been too long since anyone’s been here, and I’m obsessed,
With your song,
With your ease,
We aim to please Rarity,
As the curtains rise I’m knowing,
That the show it will start showing…
Step by step!
One by one!
Till you shout, ‘So much fun!’
Then I’ll sing you off to sleep to rest your head,
Tonight will be the best,
As I sing ‘Be Our Guest’!
This is it! This is it!
This... Is... It!
“This is it!” screamed Pinkie Stick as she pushed the doors of the room open. “This is it everypony, come on!”
“Pinkie Stick?”
“A talking candle?”
“C’mon!” she repeated. “Aren’t you guys hungry? There’s a whole meal cooked for you down stairs and no Spike in sight!”
“I umm… I suppose I am a little famished,” sighed Rarity, holding her rumbling stomach. “Maybe more than a little.”
“Perfect!” she smiled, “And while we walk to the kitchen, I can sing you guys another song. The greatest, bestest song in the whole wide world!”
“Be… our…”