//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 – Starts of Non-Snuggles // Story: El Struggle of Tiny Spikearo // by B_25 //------------------------------// Knock! Knock? Knock. That’s the sound a door makes when a claw or hoof raps against it – in case you didn’t know. Twilight rose from the plushness of her sofa to answer the same door. Standing on the other side was The Myth, The Legend: SPIKE THE BLEEPING MOFO DRAGON. Only a foot taller than Twilight, with sharper spines running along his back. The same back that Twilight had thrown hooves around. “You’re back!” Spike smiled as he begun to pat her head. “The train ran without a delay, so I’m afraid I’m a bit early.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Hope that isn’t an issue.” Twilight pulled back from the hug, smiling. “Not at all! Care for a cup of tea?” Pulling the door to its squeaky close, Spike stepped into the library that surprisingly had books. “I’d love one, thank you.” Stream arose from the sitting cups on the tray. Funny, how some drew butts on their ends, so that they could actually be sitting. Twilight sure is a witty one, Spike thought, picking up his tea and inhaling its aroma: it smelled like tea. He took a sip. And it tasted like tea. “So, how has the all great and powerful Twilight Sparkle been?” “Trying to read without a huge incident or event occurring while doing so.” She levitated the cup before her lips and took a sip, before returning it to the tray. I mean her lips of course. Spike didn’t even question it. “Soah, Spike,” she began, “hoaws your adventure been going.” He shrugged. “Alright. I went to go become a famous writer and rapper in Canterlot, but the ponies sprouting the end of the world had better rhymes than I.” “Oh?” Twilight returned to siting proper— properly. “You know, I always hear you talk about your writings, but you never show it to me or the girls.” Spike averted his gaze as he took a sip, as if that would lessen the weight of his guilt that he held within. Apparently mental struggles makes ponies and dragons double in size. “I’m always afraid of what you girls think. You’re all smart with the exception of Rainbow Dash, so I’m think you’d judge my work accordingly. “I’d rather you continued with the illusion that I must be an alright writer.” Twilight leaned forward and fell of her seat. She spoke from the floor. “But if we critiqued it properly, and you followed up on it. Wouldn’t that make you a better writer?” Waves of clarity wiped the collecting filth in Spike’s mind, but he refused their goodness whooly. “Alright. I’ll send you the prologue to one of my fic— I mean stories, and you can tell me what you think.” Totally not going ponies to humans and hooves to hands. Lola! You can never know my secret. The tea continued to be tea; stream continued to be stream. The orange orb in the sky began it's descent to the mountainous horizon, casting its glow through the window of the library. I’m going to blow up that sun one of these days. I wonder if Celestia dies, will the sun die with her? “Say, Spike? Do you mind if I ask of a quick favor from you?” “Of course, Twilight.” “I’ve been reading and testing this spell that increases or decreases the mass of objects. It's been working well so far, but I want to see what it's effect might be on a real living bean. Would you mind being my number one bean for the night?” Spike looked around at the library that had lost all of its books. “A spell that can possibly not reduce all my being at the same time, with a lung exploding inside my body because it had gotten too small to support? I see a thousand things wrong with Twilight, though my fears have never been one to stop you.” And Spike was right. A glow shined all around his body as it was alleviated into the air. The ball began to shrink in size, Spike along with it. Floating and floating. Smaller and smaller. He landed on the tray now standing only two inches big. He looked around the library that’s length never seemed to end, the shelves too blurry a distance to even see it's dust. A wall of purple fur sat on the other side of the table with a chest that rose in time with it's owners breaths. Spike bit his bottom lip as nodded his head at the understanding of the new world, peeing himself a little. “So, I’m skewered.” “Wrong word.” A voiced boomed from overhead. “I’m attached to another object by an inclined plane wrapped helically around an axis, while in a presence of everday ponies now turned goddess.” “You think I’m a goddess now?” Twilight blush stretched over the planes of her furry cheeks. Spike took a step forward and erected a clawed-finger at her. “Stop that. Don’t do that.” She giggled the newfound energy away, placing her hooves gently onto the tray. “Hop on up, it's time we got some sleep anyways.” “After that experiment, I could use some zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Though I’m afraid of a Spider-Man (please no sues) eating me. Where am I going to sleep anyways?” “With me, of course!” Twilight said brightly, placing the dragon onto her back. It was like having a pebble on her back that occasionally yanked on her mane. After Spike had gone through his growth-spurt, he could no longer ride her like in their earlier days. The drift that was coming between them hurt her soul. Memories weren’t enough fuel the burning love she had for her dragon. Spike found himself on a mounted of purple fur that so happened to move. Beneath it all he could she her muscles contract with every movement, and the shaking of the world around him. The grip on her mane was strong as one slip and he would have an hour fall. Yet, when the fear began to die away, Spike found himself chuckling at such an experience. Something like this happening and in the way it happened felt unreal and the product of bad writing. And Spike was totally right. Yet the two entered her bedroom and prepared themselves for some fluffy cuddles.