//------------------------------// // Dragons and Powder Kegs Don't Mix // Story: Dragons Eat Diamonds, Don't They? // by Truffles //------------------------------// Spike looked around the kitchen and sighed. Although he had spent nearly an hour straightening up the clutter on the floor by boxing the items as he had been instructed to do, the prep table was still covered in cookware, apart from the area he had cleared to prepare the evening meal. Worse, the boxes themselves still took up a great deal of floor space, making it only slightly more convenient to navigate the kitchen as compared to when it resembled something more akin to a minefield. “This room still looks like a disaster. Diamond herself would be proud of such a mess!” he quipped. As he shook his head, the sound of the brass knocker at the front door caused him to jump with a jolt of dread over what it likely meant – Mr. Rich and the servants had returned from Canterlot. In a panic, he rushed over to the largest group of boxes and haphazardly started shoving each of them, one by one, towards the pantry door behind the cooler unit. As each container was tucked away against the wall, the steady, metallic rapping from the front entrance once again echoed through the house. As his anxiety intensified, he began to kick-bounce from box to box and seemingly treaded air. Soon, the path was clear just as a third round of knocks began. The kitchen may not have been as tidy as it should have, but at least it could be walked through again without having a pony trip over something. “Coming! I’ll be right with you!” Spike cried out as he made his way out of the kitchen and down the hall. As he was running by the stairwell, his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of Spoiled Rich’s head poking from the doorway of the study down the hall – no doubt wondering why the front door had not been answered yet. Upon arriving at the front entrance, he now faced the same daunting task he had earlier when he went to look for Mrs. Rich – the height and weight of the doorknob was not meant for an individual as short as him, and it took a few attempts of leaping and grabbing for the latch before his claws finally caught the metal surface. Thank goodness he didn’t have to attempt this with hooves, he thought! Once he had a good grasp on the handle, he swung his weight using his tail as a pendulum to get the handle to turn and unlock, allowing the door to finally open. He quickly let go of the handle and pulled the door open enough to stick his head around the side of it and see who was there. Standing outside on the front porch was Filthy Rich with a crate strapped to his back, and Randolph and the maids slowly making their way towards the porch steps, each with their own load of boxes and crates in tow. “Well, hello there, Spike!” Filthy Rich said to the little dragon clutching the edge of the door as it swung open ever wider with each step backwards Spike took. “I was expecting the missus to answer the door. I thought you’d be too busy with other matters to take care of it.” “Well – actually I am,” Spike replied dolefully, “but I’m pretty much the dragon of all trades at the moment.” “Oh, I see,” Filthy replied with a tinge of suspicion in his voice. “Well, you needn’t hold the door any longer – I can manage on my own now that it’s open. Run along and get back to whatever it was you were doing.” Spike stepped aside to allow Mr. Rich to pass and soon realized the whole party was probably heading to the kitchen to unload their cargo. With a quick spin he skidded around the stairway and dashed down the hall, back into the kitchen where the boxes he had haphazardly pushed aside still sat. Even if most of them were now out of the major thoroughfares, the ponies returning home were about to bring in several more loads for unpacking right here, making the whole situation worse. Outside in the hall, Spike could hear Filthy greeting his wife, though it couldn’t make out their exchange of words clearly. What he expected to hear – but didn’t – were the hoofsteps of Diamond coming down the stairs to greet her father; it seemed she was still sequestered in her room. Maybe her mother had punished her after all? Spike had only met Filthy Rich in passing in the past, usually when they both happened to be visiting Sweet Apple Acres at the same time. Spike occasionally ran errands for Twilight when she needed some ingredients for a potion, or for that matter, if the meal he was planning required some additional vegetables or fruits they lacked. As it was, they never really talked to one another, although Spike would sometimes wave if they did happen to pass each other by. Filthy was always busy in discussions with Applejack while Spike was busy getting whatever item was required at her farm. He seemed to have a vague recollection of seeing both Filthy and Spoiled in Canterlot many years ago, before he and Twilight moved to Ponyville. But in that instance, the Rich’s were meeting with Princess Celestia and Twilight and Spike were simply there in the royal palace to pick up some books she needed for a school project. He doubted the Rich’s even noticed the two of them walking by. With a bit of a ruckus the door to the kitchen was pushed open and the group of ponies entered with their heavy loads, searching desperately for a place to put everything down. Spoiled followed behind, trying to squeeze into the tight space between the servants and the kitchen cabinetry while Filthy looked around and immediately noticed the huge stack of boxes piled up by the pantry. “Uh, why haven’t these been put in the basement yet?” Spike cautiously stepped forward, embarrassed over the mess. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rich. I really tried to get everything done before you returned home, but there wasn’t enough time.” “Not enough time?” he asked with a raised brow. “What did you do all day?” “Well, let’s see,” Spike started and stammered as he recalled the day’s events – not so much from being nervous, but from being exasperated as the details all rushed to the forefront again. “First there was a meeting with Diamond upstairs, then I started working on the kitchen here, and then I had to go back to Diamond’s room and clean up the huge mess she made of it and the bathroom. Finally, I had to get dinner going so it was ready by the time you got back.” “Wait just one moment – ” Filthy raised a hoof as he shot a surprised look down at the little dragon, “you cooked dinner tonight?” He then turned back towards his wife, wearing a frown on his muzzle. “I thought you said we were having dinner catered?” The mare of the house stepped forward from behind her servants and faced her husband with a broad smile. “We were, but it turns out The Great and Honorable Spike actually is a wonderful chef for the princess!” Spike rolled his eyes and groused to himself. Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we? After everything you put me through? Spike was still confused from her sudden retreat earlier in the evening, and she still seemed cautious when speaking of him. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter – he was not about to forget the events earlier in the day. “As the princess’ assistant,” Spoiled continued, “it only made sense that his cooking duties to her would also be included in the deal. Don’t you think that’s wonderful, dear?” “As a matter of fact, I do not,” Filthy stated flatly. “Spike has his hooves – er claws – full enough as it is working around the house and seeing to our daughter’s needs. We really did not have to make him do the cooking when it would have been a simple matter to hire the caterer as we usually do!” By now, the servants were giving the participants in the discussion strained looks as the vocal levels increased and the comfort levels of all involved dropped. Spoiled noticed this and relented. “Perhaps, but I’ll explain later, my dear. For now, we can all enjoy this nice…” she paused to point out with some derision the pot simmering on the prep table grill. “…stew – Spike has so kindly prepared for us.” Filthy looked over at it and then sat back and released the straps to the crate he was carrying. It gently slid down his back and onto the floor. Free of the burden, he made his way over to the pot simmering before him and breathed in deeply. “Mmmm, well I must admit it does look amazingly good. The aroma alone is making me even hungrier than I already am!” “Well, Mr. Rich,” Spike said, “it’s pretty much ready whenever you are all ready to sit down and eat.” “Very well. Just give us all a some time to finish unloading these boxes and freshen up.” The stallion looked over at the three movers – all three of which were beginning to strain under the load of each crate or pile of boxes they were carrying – and chuckled lightly. “By the looks of things, I think it’s well past time we unburdened everypony from their loads!” “I’ll lend you a claw, Mr. Rich.” Spike interjected. He dashed over to Randolph whose knees were wobbling a bit and helped slide the large crate off his back the same way Filthy Rich had done with his. Soon all of the items were resting safely on the kitchen floor, and the maids breathed a sigh of relief as they made their way to their quarters to clean up after their hard day’s work. Spike and Randolph then slid the newly added boxes to one side of the room, again attempting to keep the walkways between the cabinetry open. “Now Spike,” Filthy said, “I insist you eat with us. It’s the least I can do since you prepared dinner this evening.” “About that,” Spike replied as he tapped his two index claws together nervously, the mare still standing by the kitchen entrance rolling her eyes over what the drake was about to say next. “It won’t be just me at the table. Part of the agreement was Randolph and the two maids would also join everypony tonight for dinner.” Both Randolph and Filthy gave Spike an incredulous look upon hearing his statement. Filthy let out a slight chuckle and turned towards his wife, “You must really be intent on making an impression on your socialite friends to have agreed to that, dear.” Spoiled tensed up at the remark. “At least somepony around here cares about such matters!” Randolph, with no desire to be around for another debate between the stallion and mare of the house decided this would be a good time to change into a clean vest and quietly retreated from the room while she continued. “I know you are busy running the store most of the time, so it is up to me to make sure our good standing among the Canterlot elites is properly maintained.” And with that one indiscretion of yours, you made my job all the more difficult, she added quietly to herself. Filthy sighed. “I understand, dear – I’m not being critical. I was simply surprised to learn our temporary assistant managed to convince you to allow the servants to dine with us. I know I’ve tried in the past, but you always rejected the idea.” Spoiled looked over her husband’s shoulder at Spike, who was now standing there staring at them with his arms crossed and a raised brow. The dragon had already won that battle, and she didn’t need that fact reinforced by her husband in from of him, so she quickly changed the subject. “I think it is about time we dressed for dinner. We can continue this discussion upstairs.” “Very well.” Filthy answered. “Spike, you can continue working down here for now. I’ll have the servants set the table and serve dinner. We will meet you in the dining room shortly.” “Okay, I’ll be here. Make sure you remind Randolph to set three extra places tonight!” “Don’t worry, Spike – I’m sure he’ll remember,” he said as he nodded back at him. With that, he and his wife exited the kitchen and made their way upstairs. When Filthy reached Diamond Tiara’s room, he paused in front of the bedroom door. “You go on ahead, dear. I’m going to say hello to Diamond.” “That–that is quite alright, we can do it together. I want to make sure she is getting ready for dinner, anyway,” Spoiled replied with a tinge of nervousness in her voice. Filthy let out the quietest breath of disapproval he could muster and lightly rapped on the bedroom door. “Diamond, may I come in?” The quiet voice of a filly soon responded. “Is mother there with you?” “Yes, she is. Is something wrong?” There was a momentary pause, then Diamond answered. “Everything’s fine. I’m getting dressed right now. I’ll see you both downstairs.” Filthy cocked his head slightly at her response, and then looked over to his wife, who tapped him on the shoulder as she spoke. “Come, let us talk.” The two of them walked further down the hall and headed into their private sleeping quarters – a room that was even more ornate than their daughter's – as Spoiled shut the door behind them. “Now, let me explain–” “What the hay was that about? What did you do that’s got her so rattled she wants to stay in her bedroom?” “Don’t go raising your voice at me, dear. She’s been acting strange all evening, and even I cannot fathom what the issue is.” “And yet,” Filthy said as he started changing out of his soiled clothing, “she specifically didn’t want to come out after learning you were with me. What is it this time that you’re making her do? More polishing of the floors?” “Nothing of the sort. She is probably upset with me because I want her to prod our little dragon helper downstairs for any juicy tidbits he might know about the princess.” It took a few moments, but he soon realized what his wife was up to, and he threw his head back with an exasperated expression. “Oh, give it a rest, will you? It’s bad enough I come home to find the princess’ dragon working his tail off on duties he wasn’t meant to have, and now you have this scheme that involves poking around the new princess’ private matters in an attempt to force her to pull favors for all of us!” “As I said earlier, I’m only asking of him what he does for the princess. No more, no less.” “Well, I would like him to do less. That dragon works with the princess who happens to be friends with the Element who happens to be my main supplier of produce!” “Relax, dear. I doubt there will be any negative repercussions from him doing some basic hard work.” “Relax? I’ve got the Canterlot elites on my tail due to all your scheming, say nothing of the royals like Blueblood who’s threatening to throw me into some dark pit, never to be heard from again!” Spoiled sighed. “Oh ye of little faith. We’re not in any danger as long as the information I have stays safe – and it is safe. So quit getting your tail in a knot and let me do for you what I have always done – work behind the scenes to stack the deck in our favor so you are negotiating from the best possible position with your suppliers.” Filthy frowned. “The way you talk makes it sound like my accomplishments are all your doing! You didn’t open the store, you know? Or are you talking credit for that, too?” “Now, calm down. I didn’t mean it that way.” Spoiled quietly released a discontented breath; it wasn’t prudent to have her husband upset at her, certainly not while she was juggling the myriad of plans currently underway – even though she still had every right to be upset with him for what he did all those years ago. But for now, remaining poised was the best course of action. “Of course you are a great business leader in the community,” she cooed. “But I want you to know that without me – your loving wife – you would not have made nearly as many bits in recent years as you did.” Filthy shook his head. “I don’t need to be lectured. And I know all too well most of the shenanigans going on behind the scenes are mostly for your benefit – not mine.” The housemare’s eyes glared furiously as she bit her lip – hard. The hay with poise. He of all ponies had a lot of nerve accusing her of ‘shenanigans’, especially after what transpired all those moons ago. “Shenanigans? You dare talk of shenanigans? How soon we forget, dear husband of mine! That incident you referred to back then as an ‘unfortunate transgression’ left me humiliated, unable to face my own family! It forced me to run with my tail between my legs and take up residence in Canterlot to spare the pain it caused, having to come up with excuses as to why I was away from my family. To have to say it was all for the benefit of our ‘social standing’ and I was perfectly fine with the situation!” Spoiled whimpered, her anger giving way to a rare moment of sadness. “You hurt me that day.” Filthy hung his head. Filthy, you dumb pony. He had hoped that matter was behind them after her return last week – after so much time had passed with the two of them living apart. But the fresh acrimony this evening had ripped the scab off, the wound still raw underneath. “Look, I’m sorry–” “That’s what you said back when you were caught! It didn’t help then and it doesn’t help now! Do you know how terrible it felt to be going along one day, following up on a juicy rumor involving a weather pony of all things, only to have it lead back to you?” “I do know, and I’ll always regret it.” The stallion paused to let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m sorry for being upset at you earlier. I know Princess Twilight’s ascension was a major factor in your decision to move back in with us, but I also know you really want to try to make this work – especially for our little sweet pea.” He looked at her with tearful eyes. “I’ve asked this many a time already, but I’ll ask again: Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” “I can, but how can we make this work if you won’t let me live my life the way I want to live it? You are gone all day, leaving me here alone with nothing to do except on weekends with my tea club get-togethers!” Filthy knew he was going to regret it, but he couldn’t say no to her anymore. “Very well. You can continue with your ‘persuasive tactics’ with the elites. I’ll – I’ll just keep fielding their complaints,” he finished with a sigh. “As for Spike, might I suggest a compromise – just to help keep my supply chain intact? I am okay with him being our temporary dinner chef, but please – hire the caterers or allow the servants we already have take care of breakfast for the next two days? Isn’t it enough that you can proclaim to your little group in Canterlot tomorrow that he’s cooking dinner for us? Is it really that important that he cook breakfast – or even lunch for that matter – in addition to dinner?” Spoiled hedged for a moment, thinking over everything that had just transpired. Once again, Filthy had acquiesced to her demands – or at least most of them. Sympathy was a powerful motivator, and although everything she said about the pain she endured was heartfelt, it would be criminal to not take advantage of the situation… A slight smirk that bubbled to the surface was quashed before it could make itself apparent; instead, she spoke plainly and politely to her penitent spouse. “Very well. I’ll make that one concession.” In all honesty, she did not care how many meals he cooked for them – if Spike had agreed to even cook one meal a day it would have been enough. She simply figured the more, the better, and whatever she could get out of the princess' assistant was fair. “Thank you,” Filthy replied and gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek as he ran his hoof through her mane. “Thanks for understanding.” Spoiled smiled openly. “You see? I can be reasonable,” she replied as she returned his touch with a gentle rub on his chin before crossing in front of him. “Now, I think we should get dressed for dinner. No doubt our sweet little angel is sitting at the table and wondering what is taking us so long.” Filthy nodded in agreement as he joined her in heading towards their respective his-and-hers wardrobes. He was still famished, and the aroma of the stew the little dragon chef had waiting for them downstairs was now wafting into the room from a gap under the door. Had they been looking at the glow of the lights coming under that gap, they would have noticed cast shadows from four tiny hoofed legs slowly recede into the hallway beyond.