//------------------------------// // Prologue- Little Scars // Story: Little Scars // by take flight //------------------------------// Little Scars, a FiM Fanfiction by takeflight Chapter One If being friends with six mares taught Spike anything, it was listening skills. Even Fluttershy could be quite the talker, given the right subject and a pair of willing ears. During slow days at the Carousel Boutique, Rarity kept up a constant stream of chatter as she measured fabrics and stitched dresses. Spike would listen thoughtfully, perking up with the occasional word or consenting murmur as he worked alongside her. The work day flashed by quickly, and Rarity would usually treat him to a home-cooked meal or snack before she bade her helper goodnight. The day had been especially pleasant. Light rays of sun had finally began to warm Ponyville after a cruel winter, drawing ponies out into the streets. The Boutique was busy, but Rarity managed to keep up, enlightening Spike on the fashion trends and her latest shopping find while she cheerfully worked through the deluge of orders. Twilight had been spending more and more time in Canterlot, increasing the intensity of her magical studies. Spike couldn’t help feel a twinge of guilt whenever Twilight kissed him on the forehead and wished him a fond farewell. Every time the unicorn stepped outside into the awaiting carriage, it would mean precious hours and days in Rarity’s company. This gnawed at the dragon for some time. After Twilight’s departures became frequent, the guilt died down to a dull emotional ache, to finally nothing at all. How quickly we forget old routines, thought Spike. In dragon years, Spike was an adolescent. He had grown considerably after several growth spurts, his body becoming lithe and muscular. However, his personality remained sweet and caring and his friends still saw the baby dragon that spent days in the library. “Come, dear Spike, let’s get this mess cleaned up." Spike obediently followed, lifting heavy boxes like toys. The room was scattered with debris- odd snippets of yarn, the forgotten receipt, irregular patches of fabric. All signs of a successful workday. Sighing, Spike set down the last box  and plopped down in front of a roaring fire place. The sun had long since set, bathing the interior of the store with the glow of a full moon. Rarity’s home was simple and elegant- plenty of solid colors and functional pieces of furniture. All the hallways led to a central living room dominated by a towering stone fireplace. Spike expected nothing less from his glamorous friend, and thought of the boutique as a second home of sorts. She lived alone. Sweetie Belle had moved out some time ago, traveling to Manehattan to continue her studying Equestrian history under. She had been the first Cutie Mark Crusader to leave, and, like Twilight, her absence was sorely felt throughout the community. To Spike's dismay, the three friends had slowly drifted apart. It pained him. Apple Bloom was content to sit among the family orchards and paint, the artistic pride of the family of farmers. Scootaloo spent most of the day training with Rainbow Dash, the star flier’s personal protege. Spike had long since suspected they had more than a teacher-student relationship, but Dash’s friends were too polite, or maybe embarrassed, to breech the subject. Spike ran his claw through the plush carpet, stretching out in front of the fire and resisting the urge to close his heavy eyelids. The warmth and quiet of the room was inviting after a day of hefting objects and fetching items for the overworked seamstress. “I am absolutely exhausted,” said Rarity as she plopped to the floor beside the dragon. Spike grunted in agreement, rolling over. If anything, Rarity had become more beautiful with the passing of several years. To her dismay, her mane had begun to show strands of white and grey. She blamed her parents and poor genetics, and hid from public for three days until Twilight found a spell to color her mane. She look off her reading glasses and placed her head on her hooves, looking over the young the dragon. “Do you miss her?” “Huh?” Spike shook his head, trying not to drift to sleep on the warm rug. “Twilight. I’ve heard she’s going to be gone for a while.” Spike sighed. Rarity was right- it had been two weeks. Although Twilight wrote to him every day, he felt himself drifting farther away from his best friend and mother. Winter Wrap Up was in a week, and Spike had fervently hoped Twilight come back to Ponyville and join the festivities. Earlier that morning, he received a letter that quashed his hopes. Twilight and Celestia had “urgent matters” to attend to, extending the duration of her stay to several months. She was surprisingly vague and detached, yet concluded with several heartfelt apologies.   “I do,” he answered softly, looking into the depths of the fireplace. The fire was maintained by magic, although Rarity had thrown in wood to produce an authentic feel. Sparks danced merrily, casting off a warm glow. “I still can’t get used to living alone.” Rarity nodded sadly, knowing the pain all to well.The times she had stumbled into Sweetie Belle’s room to wake her, only stare at a dusty, unused bed. “Things change,” she murmured, glancing at the forlorn dragon. She reached out and patted him on his scaly arm. “Oh, what’s this?” she asked. Her hoof ran over a shiny, knotted scar that branched down his forearm. Most of the scales had grown back in a lighter shade of purple. In daylight, the wound was almost imperceptible. The dragon snorted with laughter. “One of Twilight’s experiments gone awry. It was the last time I let her take my blood.” Rarity’s eyes widened. “You mean she caused that-”she whispered, horrified. “Well, she might the scientist, but I’m not letting her around a needle ever again.” Spike rolled over, playfully poking Rarity in the cheek. “I’m sure a mare as fashionable as you would never have such an unsightly thing.” The mare batted away Spike’s paw. “With a bit of makeup and magic, anything is possible.” She leaned over, grasping the dragon’s arm and inspecting the blemish more carefully, as if it was a poorly sewn seem. “I could fix this right up for you, dear,” she mused, her horn glowing dimly as she tried to remember the correct spell. Spike withdrew his arm. “Nope.” “Why?” He hesitated for a beat, a claw absentmindedly caressing the scar. When he spoke, his words were deliberate and thoughful“It’s almost like a memory to me. A memory that I wear.” Rarity giggled, but sensing the seriousness in Spike’s eyes, she added in a more somber tone, “I don’t understand.  Our memories are in our heads and our hearts. No need to carry such...physical imperfections.” She tossed back her mane gently and leaned her head on her hooves. A soft rain had began to lightly fall outside, pattering on the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, almost inperceptible, warning of a coming spring thunderstorm. Spike shrugged, shifting closer toward Rarity. “It keeps me connected. Memories can fade,” he gestured toward the mark, “but scars remain. Even the bad memories are worth keeping, don’t you think?” The gravity of his words betrayed his youth, and the dragon suddenly felt self-conscious, curling his tail around his legs. Rarity leaned back in thought, puzzlement flashing in her eyes as she pondered Spike’s statement. “But, it’s so unfabulous,” she giggled in a caricature of her own affected accent. Spike laughed, rolling over and gently lifting Rarity’s arm. “I bet if I look hard enough, I’ll find something,” said Spike, carefully running his claw down her snow white fur. It was immaculately maintained, the product of washing, cleaning, and painstaking grooming. She withdrew, blushing lightly. “Oh Spike, it’s so ungentlemanly. Asking a lady to see her scars.” Spike ignored her, leaning over her and scanning her back with his sharp vision. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of vanilla, expensive perfume, a deeper aroma that was uniquely Rarity. “Aha!” he suddenly exclaimed. Rarity cocked her head toward the dragon. “There’s one,” he said proudly, gently pressing on a minuscule blemish.With utmost care, the dragon parted Rarity’s thin coat, revealing a tiny knob of scarred flesh. “Hey!” Rarity squeaked, bopping Spike on the nose. The dragon withdrew rubbing his snout, but victorious smile dancing across his lips. “I found one,” he proclaimed triumphantly. The mare leaned over, examining the tiny remains of a previous wound. “Ah, I remember where I got this,” she said softly, her voice suddenly dropping. Spike was silent, he gently lifted Rarity’s check and gazed into her eyes before giving her a quick nuzzle. “The first time I had tried sewing, I picked up a needle with magic,” she burst out into laughter, taking the dragon by surprise with her sudden mirth. “Oh, it’s so ridiculous.” Spike smiled, a full grin that pulled at the corners of his eyes. How much he has grown, thought Rarity. “Let me guess- you stabbed yourself,” the dragon added. Rarity nodded, her eyes briefly flashing with nostalgia. “It went in pretty deep. I cried for two hours, and was afraid of getting a shot from the doctor for the next few years.” She snuggled in closer to the dragon, allowing Spike to continue to gently caress her fur. “So, pretty boring, huh?” teased Rarity. “Not exactly something worth remembering.I haven’t thought about that for years, since I was a little filly.” Spike leaned in to Rarity’s mane, breathing in her scent again. “No. See, now you remember,” he whispered softly. “Well, thanks to you I now remember the most embarrassing incident of my childhood. Thank you, scar.” Spike’s eyes followed Rarity’s hair as it cascaded down her back to her gentle, shapely thighs. “What’s this?” he murmured absently, brushing over a small discolored patch of fur. It was almost invisible. Rarity stiffened, and Spike drew back, apologizing. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you th-” The mare shook her head. “Silly, it’s not that. You’ve managed to find...a minor injury,” she said absently, examining the scar like it was an old enemy. Spike frowned. “Somepony hurt you?” He couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept. The mare shook her head, looking up at Spike’s worried expression. So strong, brave, willing to protect to his friends. “Oh Spike, I’m sure you remember Discord.” The dragon’s eyes briefly flashed with hatred at the mention of the chaos spirit. She calmly patted him on the his hand. “His...magic?” he finally spat out through clenched teeth. Being turned to a stone statue was too kind a punishment for the villain. Rarity nodded, sadness flashing across her eyes. She looked away, staring back toward the fire. “Little things, don’t worry,” she said, as though we was comforting herself. “Does it hurt?” The dragon reached out, touching the discoloration. The unicorn attempted to conceal a wince, although Spike saw the brief pain that crossed her face. In a worried tone, he added, “That should be treated. It’s not normal.” He made the motion to stand up. “If I write to Twilight I’m sur-” Rarity shushed him with a hoof over his lips, pulling him closer. “A few years ago I tried. I noticed it right after the last fight. The other Element’s had born the mark also?” Spike allowed himself to be pulled into the unicorns embrace. “Had?” The mare sighed sadly, resting her head on a cushion. Several minutes passed, both dragon and mare locked in their own thoughts. Finally, Rarity opened her mouth. “Remember my corruption?” Spike nodded. Memories of an afflicted Rarity came back to him, her natural generosity perverted by Discord’s magic. She had been embarrassed beyond speaking after the incident, and none of her friends brought it up again. “Twilight and I traveled to Canterlot. We learned that some magic,” she paused, searching for the word, “lingers.” “Can’t be true. He’s gone now, right?” Spike gently nuzzled Rarity’s cheek, but the mare looked away. “My greed...” she murmured quietly. Her eyes had begun to sting and she shut them, tucking in closer to the warm dragon. Spike frowned. “You’re the most generous pony I’ve ever met. In all of Equestria maybe,” he whispered, pulling Rarity closer, ensconcing her in a tight, warm embrace. Oh, how many times I’ve dreamed of doing this. She paused before speaking, choking on her words as they spilled out of her mouth. “There are other types of greed,” she said sadly, unable to turn to face her dragon. “Doesn’t matter. I think I know what it is.” Spike gently kissed the back of Rarity’s head, pulling her into a warm embrace. “It’s about me,” he finally said. His tone was soft, quiet, mature beyond his years. Rarity blinked. A tear slowly rolled down her face, but Spike brushed it off, as lightly as a feather. He had matured so much, thought Rarity. An adult now. An equal. “Spike,” she answered, “I was greedy for you.” The dragon opened his mouth again, but Rarity leaned in, shushing him. “Please, let me finish.” Another tear, but this time Rarity quickly brushed it off. “I still can’t forgive myself for how I treated you a child,” the unicorn sighed. “I wanted attention, undivided and whole. You gave me that. I loved your affection, even if I didn’t share it at the time.” She flashed Spike a watery half-smile before continuing. “And-” This time the dragon silenced the mare. Spike leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Rarity’s. He surprised himself by his boldness, but to his delight, Rarity only deepened the kiss, wrapping her hooves around his chest. Spike suddenly wished he was a unicorn, able to stop time and preserve this beautiful moment. Every sense came alive- Rarity’s perfume, her soft mane and supple curves, her lidded eyes, clouded with love and emotion indescribable. After they broke, a blush bloomed across Spike’s face. Rarity grinned playfully. “That was a good response,” she noted, catching her breath. “I don’t think I need a scar to remember this,” said Spike, muzzling the unicorn. She giggled and rolled over, exposing her smooth white underbelly. "I’m quite memorable,” she purred. She pulled the dragon in closer, “Now, where were we?” Author's notes: Thanks to Doom_Pie for excellent pre-reading and editing.