//------------------------------// // Dinner Theater // Story: Dragons Eat Diamonds, Don't They? // by Truffles //------------------------------// The silence around the table was uncomfortable to say the least. Dinner had started out well enough; the large dining table was arranged exquisitely, and Randolph even set the extra places for himself and the maids. One by one the guests entered and took their seats, except for Spike who was standing by next to the friendly butler. When the time came to serve the stew, Randolph offered to carry it on a serving tray over to the table, even though it would be difficult for an old pony like him to lift a hot iron pot from the center island grill. Spike, however, insisted he be the one to do the serving – just like he always did for Twilight – and much to the astonishment of Filthy and the servants, walked into the dining room tightly hugging the steaming pot with his bare claws. Spoiled Rich, however, could only roll her eyes at the spectacle and shake her head. Diamond, too, was unimpressed – she simply sat motionless with an icy stare locked onto the little dragon as he took each step closer to the table. After the stew was poured into each bowl, Filthy thanked Spike for the idea of inviting the servants to dine with the family – which elicited yet another exasperated expression from Spoiled. He then pointed out the two maids whom Spike had not yet been formally introduced: Lilac, a lavender mare with a turquoise mane and Veronica, who sported an orange coat and light burgundy mane. With the pleasantries out of the way – and Spike, having finished his cooking duties for today, comfortably taking a seat at the far end of the table – the occupants in the room began eating. Other than Filthy paying another brief compliment to the chef for his culinary skills, everypony around the table remained silent. The servants ate quietly, as servants would be predisposed to do when sitting with their employers. Spoiled sipped at each spoonful of her stew stoically, resisting the urge to admit it was good. Diamond sat and stared at the bowl, and only took a small taste when prodded by her father to do so. Spike, meanwhile, sat fidgeting in his seat – his eyes darting from occupant to occupant as he assessed their reactions. And naturally, he took all of the awkward silence to mean something was amiss with his cooking and reacted the only way he knew how: panicking. Had he used too much oregano? Too little salt? What could possibly be wrong with it? He was used to cooking for Twilight and himself, and this was one of the rare times he actually had to cook professionally for others. He knew he had gotten on the very bad side of at least two of them, but the silence from the others was unexpected, and any dissatisfaction was unacceptable. He had a reputation and his personal pride to uphold, for Celestia’s sake! “So,” Spike began, gingerly breaking the awful stillness, “is – everypony enjoying the meal?” Filthy looked up reassuringly at Spike and answered, “Spike, this is simply wonderful!” The dragon breathed a small sigh of relief and relaxed back into his chair as the stallion continued. “Before you leave our service you must give me the recipe – I believe I would like to make an attempt at cooking this myself at some future date.” His wife glared at him and shook her head, but Filthy paid no heed to her veto. The two maids noticed this and looked nervously at the couple, unsure of how to answer before Randolph raised himself in his seat and reassured the notably worried dragon. “Spike, my lad, forgive our lack of rejoinder. The stew is commendable, you needn’t concern yourself over it.” The maids, now emboldened, nodded slightly before returning their gaze to the steaming bowls before them. Spoiled pursed her lower lip and sharply regarded the servants across the table, but said nothing. Diamond, for her part, remained cold and silent as she continued eating the stew in a piecemeal manner: halfheartedly stirring the concoction with her spoon before placing the thinly coated utensil in her muzzle to get a mere taste of it with each attempt. “Diamond sweetheart,” Filthy said, with a slight hint of perturbance in his voice, “please eat like the refined filly you are, and not somepony else’s poorly raised foal.” The stone-faced expression she wore disappeared momentarily – replaced by a cocky grin as she turned to her father and replied with only a few words before returning to stirring her bowl: “I’m eating just like you told me to.” Filthy cleared his throat, angered at the insolence on display. “Diamond, that kind of behavior is not permitted at the table. Eat your dinner properly or there will be no dessert for you tonight!” She looked around the table and saw all of the others now staring back at her. Her mother had raised her brow and wore skeptical look, no doubt clueful of her attempt at rebelling against the events earlier in the day. The maids quickly turned and looked at each other nervously once they saw she was glaring back at them. Randolph wore a sad expression and shook his head slightly. Even that dragon at the opposite end of the table had taken note of the situation and blinked twice as he stared back at her in dismay. Feeling alone and self-conscious over her apparent spectacle, Diamond sighed as she forcibly flicked the spoon she was holding into the bowl. “I’m not hungry,” she grumbled. “If you’ll excuse me I’ll be up in my room.” Nopony spoke as she abruptly pushed herself away and galloped out of the dining room, her hoofsteps not breaking their pace even as she climbed the stairs. Once the sounds ceased, Filthy turned to Spoiled and spoke. “That’s – not like her. I expected an argument from her like she usually gives us when she doesn’t like what’s being served, but for her to simply give up and go like that?” He let out a heavy breath as the others simply stared. “I’ll go talk to her. You –” he whispered to his wife, “you stay down here – I don’t want her locking the door again.” Spoiled raised her hoof in protest, but slowly returned it to its place on her seat with a frown as Filthy bolted from the room. Seeing the remaining occupants stirring restlessly amongst themselves, she looked away disdainfully as she shook her head and raised herself in her seat. “As for the four of you, clear the table and clean everything up – dinner is over.” With that, she abruptly got up and left. Soon after the sound of the office door across the hall could be heard opening and slamming shut. With nary an utterance, the three servants proceeded to get up as well and clear the table. Spike, meanwhile, sat there, slack-jawed and bewildered. “Is – is that really it? We’re just supposed to throw all this food away?” His voice trembled in anger as he spoke. All that work he put into that meal – all that effort to thank Randolph for helping him earlier – wasted. “Spike, don’t fret,” Randolph replied with a sad expression. “I shall take the remainder of your wonderful stew and store it in the cooler. The maids and I will be happy to finish it once the move is complete.” “Yes, Spike. Thank you for cooking for us and inviting us to dinner,” Veronica chimed in for the first time. “Although we didn’t get to enjoy it as we would have liked, it – it was a nice gesture nonetheless.” Lilac nodded in agreement, “Indeed, dear Spike, my thanks to you as well.” Randolph walked over to the flabbergasted dragon, still seated at his end of the table. “Why don’t you go home, eh? The sun has already set and I wouldn’t want you to worry the Princess. The three of us will take care of the post-dinner cleanup duties as we always have done. Think of it as our way of returning the favor for the lovely dinner, hm?” Spike slumped in his seat, a defeated look having taken the place of confusion. Without argument, he scooted his rump off one side and slid down the edge on his tail until his feet touched the floor. “Um, okay – I guess… Are – are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help out?” “We’ll do just fine,” Lilac said as she patted the little dragon on his frills. “Don’t worry your cute little head over it, okay?” “Okay.” Spike sighed. “I – guess I’ll see the three of you tomorrow?” “Yes, but you should probably arrive by nine. We will be leaving for Canterlot earlier since there will be substantially more items to move than there was today.” Spike thought for a moment, and came to a realization. “Uh, isn’t that a little late for me to be starting breakfast?” The butler rubbed his chin and thought for a bit. “Oh, I imagine the missus hasn’t told you yet – Mr. Rich informed me as he was coming down the stairs earlier you were only expected to cook the dinners – we will be handling breakfast for your remaining two days.” As a matter of fact, she didn’t. He finished his thought with another smoky huff, but by this point he wasn’t all that surprised by the revelation and he simply was more relieved to hear the good news than anything else. “Well, that’s a relief at least. Alright then, I’ll be back at nine. Goodnight, everypony.” Randolph ran up alongside him as he headed for the exit. “Here, allow me to get the door for you. That’s my job, after all!” He finished with a wink. “Oh, right - the door,” Spike replied with a shy grin. The two maids shouted their goodbyes just as he left the dining room, and only moments later Spike found himself outside in the cool evening air on the steps of the Rich mansion. He took a deep breath as he began walking; it was a blessing to finally get out of that stuffy environment. Making his way across the yard, he paused and chuckled as he passed the now-disheveled bush Twilight had so effectively deposited him into that morning. He looked up, recalling their untimely crash landing, and noticed the first stars appearing in Luna’s burgeoning evening sky. It gave him a momentary sense of calm – something he yearned for much of the day. However, it was all too brief; for just as he reached the gate that was the last obstacle to being free of their turmoil until tomorrow, he heard the front door behind him unlatch and swing open, followed by an agitated mare rushing down the front steps. “Where do you think you’re going?” Spoiled shouted at him. Spike shrunk back against the gate, startled, but soon regained his composure – and attitude – even rolling his eyes at the mare as he replied to her sternly. “Home. Randolph, Veronica and Lilac released me from my duties for the evening. Is there a problem?” “As a matter of fact, there is. In the future, clear it with me before you depart, do you understand?” Spike shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.” He then raised a brow and threw a question back at her. “So, Spoiled,” he snickered once under his breath over finally using her first name to her face, “just when were you planning on telling me I didn’t have to cook breakfast anymore?” The mare stepped backward, slightly rattled by the little dragon’s impetuous query. “How – dare you!” she cried. “First of all, you will only address me either as ma’am or Mrs. Rich. Second, I’ll have you know I was planning on informing you before you left. But you walked out before I had the chance!” Spike scrutinized her expression and pondered her words for a moment – she could indeed be telling the truth, but he kind of doubted it. After everything he had been through today, he wouldn’t put it past her to try and get a freebie by letting him show up the next morning and mistakenly start cooking before he was told it wasn't necessary. In the end, he decided he had more than enough rancor for one evening and simply relented in his stance, proceeding to swing the gate open and step through. “Well, alright then. In any case, I’m outta here. See you all in the morning,” he said as he turned his back on her, signaling her with a single wave with the back of his claw as he walked off down the street. Spoiled leaned forward and shouted again, annoyed by his rude mannerisms and lack of respect. “Do you even know what time to return?” “Nine.” She considered this briefly and then responded, “Make it eight-thirty.” Spike paused and grumbled under his breath. For an instant, he thought about keeping silent and simply walking away as if he didn’t hear her. But that stubborn little Number One Assistant in him asserted itself and wouldn’t let it go. “Fine.” With that reluctant agreement, he continued away from the source of the day’s calamitous goings-on, picking up the pace as he made a beeline for the center of town. He only stopped momentarily and glanced back when the familiar sound of the front door's metallic latches echoed through the street from behind him. The dragon’s eyes narrowed on Spoiled as she slipped through and then closed the mansion’s unwieldy main entrance, her final demand sticking in his fiery craw. “Witch.” The upstairs hall was almost completely dark, save for the illumination filtering up the stairwell from below. Filthy Rich quietly approached his daughter’s bedroom door and carefully pressed his ear against it. Silence. He softly rapped on the door three times and waited for an answer. When none came, he decided he had waited long enough and called out to her. “Diamond? Sweet pea? Are you okay?” “Go away,” came a muffled response from behind the door. “Look, honey – it’s – it’s just that I’m concerned for you, that’s all.” After another moment passed without a response, he added, “Your mother isn’t here with me.” Another long pause, and then a reply. “The door’s unlocked.” Filthy slowly turned the knob and the door swung open to the darkened room. Long, diffuse shadows of muntins painted the floor and covers of Diamond’s bed as the rising moon’s dull, blue-gray glow cast itself through the opposite window. As he approached her bed, he could make out the silhouette of the covers rhythmically rising and falling with each breath of his precious daughter. “Diamond, I don’t understand what has you so upset this evening. That was very rude of you to treat our guest Spike in that manner.” “Good. He deserved it.” Filthy shook his head. “He did not. I know you’ve been upset ever since your mother made plans to have him assist us, but that’s no reason to treat him so poorly.” Diamond threw off her covers and glowered at her father standing at the side of her bed. “You’re wrong, father – he most definitely should be treated that way! He’s a crude, horrible monster. And a homewrecker – in every sense of the word!” “Homewrecker? How can you say that – he’s been nothing but helpful!” “Helpful? As in getting all of us fighting with one another? Is that what you mean by helpful? Ever since he arrived it’s been one argument after another.” She turned away before finishing. “Especially between you and mother…” Filthy took a step back, alarmed by his daughter’s words. Had she heard Spoiled and him in their quarters? Or was she referring to all the drama going on during dinner? Either way, he thought it best to defuse the conversation. “Look, he’s the assistant to the Princess of Friendship and hero of the Crystal Empire. I want you to treat him with some respect – for me. Alright sweet pea?” Diamond snorted at her father’s request and looked him straight in the eye. “Why should I respect a fire-breathing dragon who nearly destroyed the town a few years ago?” Filthy shot her a confused look, unsure of even how to respond to such a claim. “What are you talking about? From what I heard, that dragon was enormous. Spike is nowhere near that size.” “I – I know that,” she stammered, not sure of how to explain the discrepancy. “But you were busy at the store that day and I was a lot closer. I got a good look at that thing, and I’m telling you it’s him!” “Nonsense. That was just some random dragon that wandered through town – just like all those other creatures that venture out of the Everfree from time to time. From what Randolph said, it wandered off toward the mountains just as quickly as it arrived – nopony was harmed and the damage was fixed in a few weeks.” Filthy chuckled slightly as he recalled that time in greater detail. “Y’know, it’s funny – the only damage we suffered was the giant footprint it left in the yard – and that eventually became the swimming pool!” Diamond regarded her father glumly; she had conveniently stashed away the memory of how the pool came to exist. Instead of paying a landscaping firm to come in and bulldoze the yard to fix the deep impression of a dragon clawprint, her father decided to splurge and dig the depression deeper, having it reshaped into something resembling a kidney-bean before adding the plumbing and lining it with cement. Those 31,000 gallons of in-ground aqueous bliss helped her put aside the memories of the attack, and more importantly, were yet another perk she used to make the lives of those blank-flanks miserable by excluding them from the exclusive pool parties she hosted – save for one time when she tried to get into their good graces due to their relationship with the Princess. She felt a sudden pain in her stomach, realizing the day had come full circle. It started with her mother embarrassing her – in front of the Princess herself, no less – when she tried to claim the both of them were friends. And as fate would have it, here she was thinking about the very pool party that was inexorably tied to her ability to make that false proclamation. Now, not only was that pool tied to her humiliation, but it was bound up in the attack by that very same dragon she was expected to keep company tomorrow – all by herself. A dragon she was instructed to string along with her wiles until he divulged some as-of-yet-unknown tidbit of information her mother could use. “Diamond, honey – are you feeling alright?” Filthy took note of her ashen expression and sagging features and began to worry. “You don’t look well at all.” “No, I don’t, do I? How would you feel if you were about to be left alone with somepony you despise? Somepony you try and try again to warn others about, but nopony will even listen. Wouldn’t that make you feel sick, too?” The stallion brushed the curls lying against his daughter’s forehead and sighed, “Sure, I understand. The two of you don’t get along – but you have to be reasonable. I know you’re scared–” “I am most certainly not scared,” Diamond yelled as she jumped to her hooves, fighting back tears that would reveal otherwise. “Don’t ever think that again, understand?” Filthy’s jaw slackened in shock as he looked sadly at the distraught filly staring him down from atop her mattress. He heaved a heavy breath and replied somberly, “If it were up to me, I’d take you along with us. But we both know your mother isn’t going to allow it since she’s got you all wrapped up in this insane plan to somehow gather gossip on Princess Twilight…” Diamond sighed. “Yes, I know. What is she thinking? It’s bad enough having to get close with the Princess’ horrid assistant, it’s even worse knowing what a dangerous game mother is playing – with an alicorn, no less!” “You mother – she…” He broke off, uncertain of how to express his feelings on the matter. Despite being unhappy his daughter was being used in this manner, he still bore the emotional scars from the argument earlier. Unwilling to speak derisively of his wife any further, he ceded the argument and finished his thought impassively: “She seems to know what she’s doing.” The filly looked at the sad, broken stallion before her – pleading with his eyes for her to not put up a fuss – the very same stallion she had heard only a half-hour earlier pleading similarly to her mother, albeit for entirely different – and less forgivable – reasons. The more she studied his concerned expression, the less she recognized the father she had adored and admired her entire life. Here he stood – begging her – no better than those pathetic lovesick colts in her class. Instead of romantic love, this stallion – with his forlorn expression – was hoping once again to see the love a daughter has for her father by doing her this one favor. But love was all the same to her now – that emotion – in any form – served only to expose oneself to pain and weakness. Indeed, it seems mother had been right all along – being a scheming, cold-hearted pony was the only way to truly come out ahead. Diamond wished she could be away from all of this, living like a real princess in some faraway land – far from her parents, far from any strife, and served by a loyal staff of servants who would see to her every whim. “Maybe I should just run away…” Filthy sighed. “Look, don’t be irrational, sweetie. It breaks my heart seeing you so upset, but – we all must do what we must to succeed, no matter the consequences. Do you understand?” Diamond remained silent and simply pulled the quilt over her face, hiding the tears that had begun to pool in her eyes. The forlorn stallion shook his head sadly, and then got an idea. He squinted to get a glimpse through the darkness of the bedroom and spotted a quill and stack of paper on the desk next to the door. He silently trotted over and turned on the small lamp sitting atop of it to allow the work area better illumination for the document he had in mind. The light got the attention of the filly in the bed and she rose again, rubbing a tear that had run down her cheek. As he gently took a seat in front of the small desk, Diamond strained to see what he could be writing, but couldn’t make it out from that distance. After a few more moments, he put the quill away and carried the white parchment in his muzzle over to the little filly and gently placed it on the edge of her bed. “This is for you, sweetheart. I hope it will be enough to make you feel better and change your mind.” Diamond picked up the white sheet of paper with both hooves and and began reading it aloud: “This letter is a legally binding contract indicating one Filthy Rich owes one favor to one Diamond Tiara for completing her obligation to keep one dragon – formally known as Spike the Brave and Glorious – company for the duration of his stay which will nominally be until the move from the Canterlot residence is complete.” Diamond looked up at her father with a frown, only to be prodded by him to continue reading. “Once this obligation has been fulfilled, one Diamond Tiara will be permitted to ask one Filthy Rich for one favor, including – but not limited to – toys, bits, travel, or any reasonable request.” The filly paused and gave a single, derisive laugh as she regarded her father with a raised eyebrow, furiously waving the agreement right in his face. “Really? You’re trying to bribe your own daughter with an I.O.U?” “I’m just trying to be fair. I think we both know you’ll never really run away – you’re simply not capable of living without the amenities this house provides. Be reasonable, sweetheart, and we can both come out ahead from this situation.” Diamond snorted in response to his reasoning, and finished the last bit of the letter. “There is no expiration date on the redemption of the favor. Signed, Filthy Rich.” “Keep that letter with you, sweetheart – you never know when something will strike your fancy. Simply write down what it is you want and deliver it to me. I’ll will then do my best to fulfill your request.” The well-to-do filly didn’t know how to respond. First and foremost, this favor would do her no good if she was nothing but a burnt pile of ash – or a pile of something worse – after being left alone with that dragon. Additionally, bribing others had become her schtick – she wasn’t the one meant to be bribed! It felt cheap, like she was being manipulated. This was totally inappropriate for somepony of her significance – those common ponies she bribed needed her wealth and popularity to feel important! She didn’t need anything, certainly not anything her father could offer her – except for a way out of this deal. She was on the verge of shredding the document into tiny pieces, but a voice in her head told her not to. Perhaps this I.O.U. might be a way to get out of some of her mother’s demanding, ‘character-building’ chores, especially if she could leverage their suspension to last for a good, long while. However, she also knew her father had already unsuccessfully tried to lessen them to no avail. She had wondered why he was so ineffectual at influencing her, but the conversation she overheard from their quarters earlier pretty much made it clear why he was so hen-pecked since her return to Ponyville. Perhaps she could ask for something just for herself, even though she was already vigorously doted on by everypony close to her. A trip to the spa for a week, or even a trip to some exotic land might not even be out of the question. Whatever her decision, she had more than enough of talking with anypony this evening, and simply wished to be left alone. She tossed the letter onto the second set of pillows stacked next to her and rolled over again, wrapping herself in her quilt once more. “I’d like to be left alone now,” came a muffled, shaky voice. “I understand. Goodnight, sweet pea.” He tried to pat her on the head through the quilt, but she only responded by pulling away to the side. Filthy turned and walked back to the exit, extinguishing the desk lamp as he passed by it. “Your mother and I really do care about you. Don’t forget.” Diamond waited until she heard the creak of the door and the latch shut before finally whispering to herself. “That may be, father – but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve both left me feeling miserable and wishing I was somepony else…”