Far away in Canterlot, four princesses, and one former princess, discussed matters around brunch. The bloodstone scepter rested next to Dragon Lord Ember's chair as she, and through her, the dragonlands, made contact with Equestria for the first time in millennia. Maybe the first time ever.
It was the kind of thing that called for a more 'important' setting than fresh, green Ponyville Castle. Everypony had prepared to make the perilous journey to the dragonlands, but lo and behold, Princess Ember surprised everyone by coming to them for the meeting, and she'd come with a question.
"Wait, so that's what all those fields are for? You just grow your own food?"
Officially, these talks were to finally bridge the gap between two classical enemies, which called for a more important setting than fresh, out-of-the-way Ponyville Castle. Unofficially, though, they continued having their lunch, discussing whatever came to their minds.
Princess Celestia nodded at Ember's question, letting a guard take her plate. "Ever since I can remember. Some ponies even farm rocks for their gems." She tilted her head quizzically. "You really didn't know that?"
Ember nibbled at the last sapphire, blushing. "I... might not have gotten out much as a hatchling. Dad was strict."
They 'ahhh'ed in unison. Twilight, the next chair over, gave a sisterly pat on the shoulder, snapping Ember back to reality.
"Well, going back to the matter at claw... hoof, whatever." She pounded her chest, belching out a whole treatise of notes in a wreath of flame. "I have no clue what I'm reading here half the time. How are we just supposed to work all this out?" She looked up and down at the jumbled stack of paper. "This looks like it could be used as a club."
"Ember?" Twilight chided.
"Just sayin', just sayin'!"
"Basically, you start small," Twilight reiterated with a chuckle. "Maybe we can pick a few of the friendlier dragons to come live with us, and--"
"Except, hello? I don't know any 'friendly' dragons. And besides, what about the crowd? I barely managed to land here without starting a panic. And I had to wear these!" She held up the torn remains of a clown wig and a nose.
"You could just make them hug each other again." Ember looked at Princess Cadence like she'd asked to put them back on. "Just throwing it out there."
"Have I ever told you about Dragon Lord Ajax?"
Before she could tell the sordid tale, one that nearly led all Dragonkind to extinction, a scroll burned up in front of Celestia. "A letter from Spike? Right now?"
"It must be a matter of urgency," Luna told her, and they opened it together. Both sisters blinked, their eyes widening.
"Twilight? You might want to read this."
Dear Twilight,
How are those peace talks going with Ember? You, um, not fighting too much in there? Eheh...
Things are going as great as ever here in Ponyville, by the way. I even made some new friends! Dragons, in fact. And guess what? They all just love your castle! I hope you don't mind if they all threw a teensy-weensy little party for me. I'll make sure to keep everything from falling apart while you're gone.
In fact, once you're done, feel free to come over and help me make sure everything's running smoothly. I'm sure they won't mind having a pony show up!
Spike.
Having just signed his death warrant, Spike had to stop playing spectator, and ran into the fray. Just when things seemed to be settling down, Vex declared that his thunder wasn't gonna be stolen, and he threw down the gauntlet. He threw it down big. He tore down the wall. He woke up the beast. He made it rain, and he rallied everyone for their second, third, and fourth wind, turning the storm into a hurricane. And then Spear pushed the button.
"Wow, guess that dumb armor's been weighing you down! You're on fire, Tubs!"
A tail match here, a punch there, and now, all bets were off.
Spike had to circle around the match as bits of castle flew everywhere. As Clump and Fizzle chanted on, "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" the two purple dragons were ready to knock each other's lights out. Spear got a slug in, knocking a tooth out, before the crazed basilisk plowed him into the wall, trash-talking all the way. "You know, when I'm done with this little playdate? Know what I'm gonna do? I'mma take a nice hot bath, in my new armor, maybe use your mop to wipe my pretty little--"
"Shut up already!" Suddenly, Spear kneed him in the gut, forcing the motormouth to let go. He followed by charging up, dodging swing after mindless swing, before launching another fist. Vex ducked his head this time, letting Spear's fist connect with his hard metal helmet.
"--Beak."
"GYAAAOW!!" Spear curled up and nursed his accordioned fist, giving Spike the ramp he needed to sprint up and over the fight. As he backflipped over Vex's head, Spike knocked his helmet down over his eyes, took his horns, and landed on his back, pulling down.
"That's enough, both of you!"
"H-hey, get off! I can't see, where'd he go!?" Vex flailed around blind as Spike hung onto the biggest, scaliest rodeo he'd ever been on, feet quavering at the back-sweat.
"Is he still in front of me? Are we doing a tag-team thing? Which one of us says Marco?"
And then, it struck like an earthquake. With the sound of a muffled clap of thunder, the hoard flew apart, flinging broken castle crystals in all directions, and unearthing a miniature, violet sun on the table. A bubble of magic pulsed outward, washing over into every nook and cranny of the room.
Before they could even duck and cover, six dragons found themselves glowing, paralyzed by solid magic. The three purple dragons looked around before toppling over into a tripod stance.
Spike was promptly freed, and floated onto the back of a crackling alicorn, who stood beside beside yet another dragon. The bits of crystal hung still in the air, like a frozen snowstorm.
"WHAT!! IN THE NINE LAYERS OF TARTARUS!! ARE YOU DOING IN MY CASTLE!?!?"
Dang! He really did need some coaching.
Massaging his ears, Spike looked to a scowling Twilight,then turned to the blue dragoness beside her.
"Ember!" He lit up like a light, and leapt off to give his old friend a Garble-sized power hug.
"Oh, this again?" Spike's one real dragon-friend grinned and chuckled, patting him awkwardly, and peeled off the grabby hatchling, suddenly stern. "But I'm with Twilight. What party?" She let him down, and crossed her arms. "Why do I get the feeling this castle's not usually this trashed? You have some explaining to do here, Spike."
As if on cue, the front door flew open. Two unicorns, one white and one pink, charged in, their horns glowing blue. "Unhand him, you... oh."
As Rarity and Starlight blushed at their tardiness, Applejack and Rainbow Dash walked in carrying a wooden pole, with yet another dragon tied to it, like some kind of sacrifice. Ember stared dead ahead, recognizing her red foe instantly.
"You!!"
Time slowed down for everyone. Her eyes glossed over, her face grimaced, she screamed over the statue garden, letting everypony scatter around her. Landing in a cloud of dust, she hauled up the Garble-totem by the shaft of the pole. "You've got a lot of nerve coming all the way down here," she snarled. Garble whimpered pathetically, the best he could do in his current state.
"I know what you're doing here. You think you could go for round two? And let me guess..." She glanced back at the other five, starting to twitch in their shells, before freezing once more. "Your pack? All for one little Spike? Wow. Just wow. What a hypoc--"
"Ember, wait! They're not here to hurt me!"
"Mmph wns," Garble muffled through the ropes. Ember dropped the idiot like an old leftover and landed.
Before she could turn and scold her stray subjects, they all started to twitch as a stalling engine noise clunked and sputtered through everyone's ears. In seconds, the pink prisons popped like a piece of gum, letting them all bow to their knees like their lives depended on it. Twilight dropped to the floor as well, face red and woozy.
"I'm sorry... Too many... dragons... magic... block..." Thud.
For some reason, one of those dragons had been hanging from the balcony by his horns.
"GAAAAAH--Ulph!"
Had been. Baff rubbed his sore tail grumbling, before bowing down as well.
Applejack, seeing her body was still un-filleted, finally shook out of her funk and donned her hat, before galloping up with the others to help Twilight and Spike up. "Anyone mind fillin' us in on what just happened here? No pressure now, just wonderin'."
Ember crossed her arms, tapping her foot, and narrowed her eyes. "Well?"
Now, Fluttershy may have been the stare master back home, and she may even have achieved the same result if pushed hard enough. But Ember was still Lord of the Dragons, and when the Dragon Lord herself is cross with you, you only have two options. And only one of them is family-friendly.
Baff took the brunt of her glare (Oh geez the glare,) and withered up. "Well, ahem." He had to look away, but she pulled him back in, turning her motherly gaze up to eleven. "We miiighta followed Spike home. He hung out with us awhile, y'see, and then that whole 'Dragon lord' thing came and went, and... We still owed him a good time pleasedon'teatme!" He collapsed in a heap while he still had his soul. Garble rolled his eyes.
"A good time?" All eyes turned to Spike. He hopped off as Twilight climbed back to her hooves, marching up to the gaggle of fellow reptiles.
Then, to puctuate the coming sarcasm, he started to clap. Slowly. "Yeah, guys. I just had the time of my life today!" The kind of applause a villain might give once the hero had it all figured it out.
"Boy, what a party it was. Ten out of ten. So sorry you girls missed it!" With a good, final clap, he rubbed his hands together, stopping to face a fat dragon who, just moments ago, had been fighting to the death. "Vex, is it? Take a look around. What do you notice?"
The renegade popped up his helmet by the fin, letting him take in the carnage for the first time.
The Hall of Friendship looked more like the Quarry of Friendship now. Bits and pieces of what used to make up the pillars, the walls, and any spare furniture were scattered all over the ground. The left wall had a gnarly gash from roof to ceiling, rimed with plenty of smaller holes (one of them shaped just like a brown dragon,) letting the outside air carry some lingering smoke in.
The place would've been unsalvageable, were it not for its two all-powerful magical tenants. Above, the Golden Oaks chandelier was charred black, and the memory gems hanging from its bent tips would take hours to detangle and polish.
One of those gems fell loose from the tree, and clinked to the floor right between the two.
"I've still got it?"
Meanwhile, in the Party Cave:
For the first time in twenty minutes, Pinkie got another twitch, like the aftershock to a massive earthquake.
Forget the ribbons. She had to act now.
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Friendship:
"Are you all crazy in the bananas?" Spike threw up his arms. "You guys want to throw me a party? Fine. But who shows a guy a good time by: stalking him? Almost killing him? Burning his town to the ground? Wrecking his house? Starting a fight? Who does that!?"
He was done. He wasn't Spike anymore. He was just an angry little volcano, spewing out the day's stresses like a toxic cloud of unbridled rage.
"...And do you even know how long it takes to get smoke out of a carpet!? Not fun! And then there's the 'new door'..."
And for the first time in a long time, Vex felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. Or knocked over a stroller. Only this time, he felt... bad about it. Maybe even worse than when he'd gotten up in his armor. Maybe even worse than when he'd eaten his armor. He took off his helmet and looked at the dull, pitted reflection.
"Spike?"
This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Spike was supposed to be one of them now, cutting loose and having the time of his life. Out of the corner of his eye, Half the little ponies had clustered together with Ember, chatting and debating amongst themselves, while the others gave Spike a 'there, there' as he cooled down.
"Spike, I'm..." The big guy looked down, glancing around. "...I think we're all done here." He spread his wings, taking the lead. "Places to see, towns to pillage, you know." He tossed the helmet up and slung it under his arm. "See ya 'round, dragon lord."
"Ahem," Ember tapped the staff she was leaning on.
"Oh." He stopped with one foot on the grass. "Um, other dragon lord?"
Then he felt the back of his neck burning. Ember was giving the glare again. He felt something else. Spike was glaring at them now. Twiddle and Sprinkle or whoever were glaring at them, and even Garble, still ready for a spitroast, was glaring.
Bits of rubble drizzled from the ceiling.
"You're not getting off that easy."
For a pony princess who'd just had her second home in a row trashed, Twilight was surprisingly generous. The upper guestroom was decked out in pretty pony pinks and yellows, as if a flower garden had thrown up in it. A giant bow window took up the far wall, looking over a scorched Ponyville. Half of the gang lay sleeping with all the grace of a pack of teenaged dragons, letting the smoke billow out of them and muck up the ceiling. Any chance they could get before the big day ahead.
Fizzle was the only one up and about, burning off all the energy he still had. A mountain dragon like him was nothing if not built to last. He squirmed and fidgeted on the floor, rubbing harder and harder at himself.
"Rrrgh, come on!"
Flecks of white tissue fluttered to the ground around his body. Grunting furiously, he doubled over, flaring his wings, and ripped out a new sheet, not even caring if he got a rash from this.
"Get off of me!!"
Finally, finally, the itching went away.
Stupid sun. Stupid skin. His whole body was all chipped and flaky, peeling off in some places. His back had it the worst, looking like he'd tried to rip a present up on his birthday, only to find fresh skin underneath. Thankfully, he was still a dragon, so burns, even sunburns, just didn't happen. Small comforts.
"Are you done yet?"
Fizzle jumped out of his half-skin, and spun around to see Garble sitting on the other side of the room, looking right at him. He was on the floor by the bay window, even though a chair and corner table were right next to him. Garble patted the floor for him to come have a seat next to him.
Well, what kind of guy would say no to that?
Fizzle stepped over the old skin flakes, stretching his arms over and behind his back. Man, what a party! If only Garble could've been there, maybe he'd be asking Fizzle for pointers right now.
So why did he feel so hollow?
He leaned back between Garble and the window, and slid down onto his tail. "You doing okay now?" Fizzle asked without thinking.
That earned him a sharp look. Okay, fair enough. Garble was wrapped up in some red marks now that he'd been cut loose, plus a bruised pride from being wadded up, tied up, and getting dragon-coded into staying far, far away from Spike. Slowly, the red menace grinned and fluttered his eyelids. "Fizzy?" He said in a diabetic tone. "What did I say about dragons?"
"They don't ask for help. My bad," he curled up blushing, only for Garble to grab his crest, forcing his eyes back up to him.
"And they don't apologize either." Garble let him go with a pat on the back, and they sat side by side without a word.
Both of them wore blank expressions, as if waiting for someone or something to break the ice.
Fizzle ended up being that someone. "Hey Garble, about ditching--"
"Hey, you going deaf? What'd I just tell you?"
"Right, sorry," he bleated.
Garble's eye twitched, nearly popping an artery. His throat started to glow as he struggled to find the right scream, and his claws were ready to rip out the first throat they touched. Then he ran out of energy.
"Y'know," his old mentor went on, "I've been doing some thinking about today. And last week." His face was as readable as a brick. "And the migration."
Oh geez, here we go, the cute little thorn in his side. Fizzle stopped with the back patting and picked some more skin off. When Garble wasn't looking, he plugged the strips in his ears, and inched away, slowly, slowly now, ready for the bomb to drop.
"...We're like," Garble, not exploding, searched for the word."We're like... frrriends, right?" He spelled it out, like he'd just learned the word 'astigmatism'.
Fizzle poked an eye open. That wasn't the bomb he'd expected.
Also, a bit of a stretch. Ponies did friends. If a dragon got caught dropping 'F' bombs around, he'd be tanned, brazed, and marched out with a bow on his head.
Also, the skin-plugs did nothing.
Fizzle looked absently out the window to admire his handiwork outside, and picked up a vase over by Baff's foot. "I guess you could put it like that?"
It did kinda make sense. Him and Garble were the only ones with any real history, beyond 'get gems, fall in, have fun,' but... "It's not like have a lot of tea parties these days, though."
Tossing the porcelain piece up like an apple, he puffed some fire onto it. Blue fire, the hottest there was. The priceless artifact didn't stand a chance.
Garble rolled his eyes. "Okay, first, leave the wisecracks to Vex." He daggered the little weasel sleeping tail-up in the corner, hugging that dang helmet like a teddy bear. "But I get it, though. It's been a while. Like, four, five years?"
Fizzle just shrugged. Dragons didn't need calendars. None that he knew.
"Which reminds me..." Garble beckoned a claw. "Show me what you got, big guy."
Fizzle looked down, then back at a hanging Garble, and jumped. "O-oh, right, the 'thing.'" He slapped himself for letting it slip his mind.
What was he so worried about? They did it every time they crossed paths now, letting him... touch him. Right in front of everyone. Alone.
The two of them.
Fizzle built himself up, thrust his arm out to Garble and looked away. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
"It's not a freakin' booster shot, you big baby." Garble said, took the arm and squeezed. Hard. With his claws. His sharp, red, toned claws. He, Garble, was touching him.
Fizzle did not like being touched.
"Woah, you're rock-solid!" Garble worked his way up and down the tense, white arm. Fizzle ground his teeth to the tune of the scraping and grinding rattling around in his skull, as each poke ricocheted around his bones like a bat screaming in a cave. Fizzle focused on his breathing, and counted backwards, letting Garble have his way. There was an "Mmhmm..." and a 'woah' heard every now and again.
"Okay, flex." Fizzle did so, just like always. Good Lord, did Garble even wash? The little bugs of dirt left under his scales burrowed deeper and deeper into his scales as they were jostled out of place by this very assault on his being, and there wasn't even a pool of lava to wash any of it off. And right while he was shedding, too!
"Maybe you should be giving me some pointers," Garble joked and let up. "I'm proud of you."
And just like that, worth it. Fizzle took his soiled arm back and glowed like a champ, and took Garble in the arm-slingiest of brohugs. They sat there like that for a while.
Yep. Red and white, taking on the waste. Just like the good old days.
Still, some niggling little nag of his couldn't help but pry. Spike and Ember--
"Howsabout we go do a little hunting here, since we're in pony town? Just you and me?"
Fizzle stopped mid-glow. What did he mean by... They weren't seriously gonna try again, were they?
"You got gems in your ear? She said no hunting. Or burning, or sneaking off, or growing a hoard..."
"Mmhm, mhmm," Garble nodded in stride. "She didn't say we can't play a little game, did she?"
"Well no, but--"
"Well? What is it?" Garble was getting impatient. "Friends?" Garble and impatient did not mix well.
Fizzle gulped. Then, without warning, Garble punched him playfully. "C'mon, don't slide back now!"
Hey Strafe, check it out! This little guy's all white!
Fizzle hitched and dug his claws into the floor. He was a baby again, ready to bolt. But he was cornered. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, and that oh-so-heinous laughing. A gang of dragons closing in, ready to have their own little throwdown.
Fizzle, huh? You look more like a shrimp to me...
"...Fizz? Hey, Fizz! I'm still talking to you here!"
"Wha-- yeah, sure! Why not?" Fizzle snapped back to reality, and shivered. Just a tap on the shoulder. He had to wipe his brow twice. H-heh, yeah, not anymore, chumps!
Nothing had moved. He was all alone, just him and his new-old maybe-frenemy, with everydrag else up and filing out. The puddle of slag had stopped glowing a while ago, and felt cool to the touch.
Garble helped him up, and patted him on the back. "There's some hope for you yet, bud."
You know what? What's one little game? Getting up, Fizzle brushed himself off and followed suit, too caught up in himself to hear a faint yelp from behind. A tacky, finned helmet lay on the floor, marking the start of a thin trail of confetti that led out the window.