Necessary Love

by Zurock

Chapter 19: Doors

The door to Spike's second floor room easily gave way to Summer Wind's push, swinging briskly open.

"After you," she was quite pleased to invite.

"Oh, thank you," came the dragon's upbeat reply.

As they had no baggage to lug inside they both strut carefree into the room, Spike before his much bulkier attendant.

But at only a few paces in, the dragon's steps crawled and stuttered, shortly thereafter stopping completely. Reflexively his small glances tried to absorb the room but they couldn't compete against one solitary item that was overwhelming him. Something astounding. Something stupendous. Something triumphant.

The mundane details of his room weren't much different from any other hotel chamber and so were hardly of note to him. Likewise any peculiar absences or deviations weren't terribly suspicious, partly because he hadn't seen other rooms at the Passion's Embrace to compare his too. No desk or chair had been provided to him, and his dresser was unusually squashed widthwise. The differences were there to cede space to the marvel that had snagged his stupefied attention.

His bed was MASSIVE. Easily larger than the kingliest of king sizes in all measurable dimensions. The snooze-beast comprised a good portion of the whole room. Its enormity could comfortably support a family of four, with their pets, grandma, and the kitchen sink to boot. Even with other furniture having been removed and reduced the room felt dangerously close to being overcrowded because of that one gargantuan item.

Without a doubt the mattress had been custom designed; there was no standard one in the world which could have possibly served the duty. Visible stitches showed it had been sewn together from several bedsheets, and its bumpy shape and rippled surface hinted at an inside stuffed with a desperately soft mix of cushy cotton, stacks of straw, and a heaping filling of feathers. No ordinary bed frame could hold the bloated sack so it merely sat upon a large hunk of wood with raised margins around the top.

Such an assorted, improvised construction didn't render the slumber-frankenstein a grotesque mutant though. No, no... it was glorious! Perhaps its irregular design DID mean that it lacked the playful bounce of something with springs. Perhaps it couldn't offer the stony stiffness of a cave floor that a more rigid mattress would (such hardness making a choice resting ground for a dragon's back, of course.) But all that was no concern. This bed instead crowned itself almighty in a wondrously different way: the compressible stuffing was a thick fluid, not able to sink so deep as to drown somepony but boasting more than enough absorbent give to leave the sleeper floating on air.

Spike tottered towards the bed, nearly dazed and with his jaw hanging. Up came his claws and, having to put them high just to reach, he reverently laid them upon the mattress. In and out and around, he felt the crunchy squishiness of it, and gradually his mouth was won over into a smile. Bit by bit the corners flared up until finally his whole face was separated into two pieces by a sharp-toothed grin.

"Hahaha, woah!" he exclaimed. First packing his body into a little ball he then sprung up onto the bed. The mattress yielded to him on the first try, with his legs plummeting into it. Everywhere else it puffed out because of the shock wave which ran through it. Laughing and leaping about, remolding the bed's shape with each bounce, the dragon shouted, "I could sleep in a different spot every night and still wouldn't be finished by the time we left!"

Although she waited patiently Summer Wind still snickered at the sight. This scene was not what she had imagined.

"I'm glad you like it," she said to him.

"Why do we get such huge beds?" the dragon asked, still bounding around on his.

"Oh. Only yours-... I mean, the others have the usual beds. We had to put this together especially for-... for you...," the large pegasus tripped over her own explanation, caught seemingly unprepared in some fashion.

Spike's jumps came to halt and he took a moment to steady himself against the last wobbles of the mattress.

"What do you mean?" The question was scribbled all over his face.

Ungracefully, with her eyes searching the back of her head and her hooves rubbing each other in discomfort, she expressed erratically, "Well, you see... we, uh, read that you were a young DRAGON and... I mean, I guess we... we didn't take the 'young' part seriously enough." From somewhere unspoken a streak of disappointment wormed into her. "It didn't say specifically that you'd be so small..."

Her unintentional strike pierced him. Oh, the facts of her report all made literal sense; it was the dismal skew she had put upon it that had left him wounded and irked.

Overly defensive he fired back, protesting his insult and injury, "Hey! I'm not... I'm not THAT young!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She rushed to correct her misstep, trying to dress her appearance in the correct formality for her assigned station. But she wasn't rapid or thorough enough to cover all of her unmistakable doubt. In a discouraged, low moan she mused, "You just... really look like such a... baby dragon..."

After hearing those words, whatever insult Spike felt transformed and contorted into a desperation to protect dignity. He threw and waved his arms about, childishly upset, and complained, "W-Well I'm not a baby! Twilight was practically a little foal when I was hatched and that was years and years ago!"

"I'm sorry!" Summer Wind doubled down on her apology. This time she managed a fully repentant bow, and she afterwards locked tight into a straight-faced, attentive standing; the picture of a consummate professional.

But the dragon remained disconcerted, certain that any sincerity she held was still somehow muddied by the front she had erected for his sake. The judgment he perceived teased and mocked him right through her polite face.

"I'm g-grown up and mature!" he tried so hard to paper over his insecurity with indignant anger, but his efforts were pathetically failing and overly soaked in pleading urgency. "I shop for groceries, a-and arrange the library books, and w-work occasional odd jobs around Ponyville, and everything! A-All by myself!"

But though she didn't doubt his assertions in any fashion his fumbling presentation clearly hadn't convinced her the way he had wanted it to.

Hitting the very peak of his fraying frustration he panicked and thoughtlessly grabbed the first stupid thing that came into his mind. He reconfigured a recent memory into an ill-advised effort at proving adulthood.

With the loudest and most misplaced confidence he could find within, he declared, "I'm old enough to... to know... to know what 'rolling in the hay' is!"

No he wasn't. He really wasn't old enough to know. He had guesses about what it was, sure. Or more accurately: guesses AT guesses. But he really wasn't old enough at all. There was only enough cultural awareness in him to recognize the mysterious subject as a topic that wasn't ever spoken of openly, and therefore was critically embarrassing to speak of or hear about.

So he was immediately swallowed by regret when he heard his own words, and doubly so when he saw her reaction. Both his claws clamped over his idiot mouth. He couldn't be sure that she had actually understood his borrowed language but obviously she was taken aback nonetheless.

"W-W-What I m-meant to s-s-say w-was, ah... um...," Spike attempted to backtrack, raising a single claw up in defiance of his earlier self. "Um... you see... I... er..."

The incomplete, stalling phrases only continued to sputter out of him. There wasn't any reasonable excuse he'd ever be able to come up with to cover his hasty blunder. Embarrassment ate him up, both of his frills and his tail drooped, and his lifted arm weakened as well, crumbling down.

Summer Wind meanwhile wasn't truly perturbed. Yes the dragon's outburst had been more than a little unusual and far less than expected. It had been a mild shock to have heard it thrown out so suddenly, to say the least. But mostly she felt more amused than disturbed; a state that grew only increasingly truer the more he failed to defend himself with his rambled, fragmentary statements.

Perhaps such unpredictable surprises were his gift. First he had existed as only written words, and subsequently as an image in her mind of a muscular dragon larger than her own great size and also naturally physically rambunctious. Then he had actually appeared and had been nowhere near what she had anticipated; a baby, hardly as big as a foal, if that. But later, in the lobby, he had demonstrated an impressively uncommon amount of maturity; nothing of baby at all. And now he had become this priceless, tail-twisted goofball before her; something in between the two extremes, with a personality different and older than what she would have guessed but yet behaviors still stained here and there with foal-like missteps and insecurities. What a ride back and forth.

Actually... thinking on it... his adorable fumbling here really reminded her of Humble Herd when that pony was thrown off balance. In a pleasant way. It was rather endearing.

Regardless, the pegasus understood now that he was older than he appeared but in the end was still a young one. Too young. That basic fact made everything for her awkward, easy, and disappointing all at once. Presumably she would have to continue with her given assignment ANYWAY, albeit in a reduced fashion.

"Mister Spike," she cleaned up her presentation completely, scrubbing away any rudeness major or minor, actual or imagined. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Hey! You know what?" the dragon interjected, sporting a false and sheepish smile. He quite earnestly hoped to move past the lamentable episode as swiftly as possible. Giving the back of his head a clumsy scratching he instructed, "Forget I said anything!"

Leaping down off the bed he further zoomed away from his self-induced quagmire, blathering quickly, "Uh, and, so, we haven't actually been properly introduced yet! I'm Spike." Naturally he understood that she knew some things about him already because of Twilight, but that hardly mattered to his escape. Out came a quivering claw, flustered but ready to formally mark the occasion.

"Ah." She was happy to let the ridiculous ordeal pass under the bridge; it would at least keep her innermost concerns buried until she had the time to process them. Hoof met claw for a shake.

"I'm Summer Wind. It's really very nice to meet you."

"Same here."

Already Spike appeared to relax some. The tumbling in his stomach began swiftly calming, and a friendly, casual curiosity sprouted up anew over his face.

"So... you... do service and stuff around here?" the dragon asked.

"Oh, well," Summer Wind waddled along uncomfortably, "we all sort of... contribute with that. It depends." Before he could present her with any follow-up she eased into a more personal and natural answer, "Really, I mostly manage the weather over the island. I mean, I'm not the only pony who does that but that's my primary responsibility."

"Weather, huh?" He passed his eyes over her again.

Tall, and endowed with a well-honed thickness that ran the whole length of her orange body, she was a real pony built from unscratchable stone. Even her green tail had a solid and sturdy form, hardy with power from root to tip, like an ancient tree coated in moss. As an obvious fact larger pegasi had larger wings to match, but her mammoth fans were jet engines. And right there on her flank the same mighty story was written: two restless clouds which were slightly gray from the unspent energy built up inside, their rolls rounded and firm like flexed iron muscles.

"Wow," he chirped. "You must whip up quite a thunderstorm."

She smiled, "I do pretty well with the heavy weather; not that we often need it. But when we do get the chance I really throw all I've got into it." For a moment she became unchained, tearing across the sky without limits even though she still stood there in the room. "I love the rush," she emphasized, ripping the sentence out from the greatest depths of her core. "Being caught in the hurricane, the winds screaming against you, so much water pouring over you that you can't tell if it's sweat or rain. And you ride the storm; just go with it until you can't go anymore!"

Was she a single pony or a whole crew of weatherponies crammed into one? "Sounds intense," the dragon commented, mirroring some of her merrier attitude.

It was Summer Wind's turn to be somewhat embarrassed, though far less so than he had been. Mostly she teetered her head about and rolled her eyes at herself. Try as she might she couldn't completely subdue her grin.

"Intense is how I get my satisfaction," she was able to remark plainly. Yet cracks of remorse appeared. "Usually. When I can."

Off she shook her reflective thoughts, immediately shelving them. What a deplorable time to slip into her personal affairs. She reasserted her professional side.

"Sorry," she said, lowering her head formally, "I didn't mean to be going on about myself like that."

"Hey, that's not a problem," Spike dismissed. His everyday disregard was unfailingly polite, and he was even just a hair contrite that he had made her feel the need to apologize at all. Automatically he justified, "We're here to relax and have a good time, and I guess also make friends and everything, right?"

Again she was touched by the very pure and thoughtful way which he had expressed himself: ordinarily normal and extraordinarily considerate. What a little giver.

When Venus had first approached Summer Wind regarding the coming visit of the Princess's pupil and had asked the burly pegasus to... handle the dragon... it had honestly seemed like an incredibly daunting and undesirable task, in more ways than one. In all her life she had probably never been more imprisoned by reluctance. She had accepted the responsibility anyway but only for Venus's sake, not having known how in Equestria she would deal with a dragon or even if she could. Yet far less openly, in her secretest insides, she had recognized that there existed a tiny, unmentionable hope: maybe a dragon could be for her what most ponies couldn't; paralyzing as such a thought had been.

But how she felt about it all NOW... well... His manners and personality had erased so much of the old trepidatious doubt, but likewise his age had snuffed out the faint, hopeful gleam. It was actually kind of a shame that this particular dragon WASN'T a little bit older.

All that aside, there was a job to be done here. Once more she felt inspired to reward his simple goodness with proper respect and due assistance.

"And have an amazing time you will!" she answered him with uplifted promise. A half-turn towards the door, raring to go, and with her whole body she invited, "But right now... don't we have to head to your friend's room to recover your bags?"

"Oh! Right!" popped Spike. He was somewhat aghast at himself, rubbing his chin at the rueful realization of how caught up in embarrassments and pleasantries he had been getting. "I had almost completely forgotten about Rarity, and my stuff."

"Well, I can lead you right to her room," Summer Wind was proud to offer. Her delighted eyes gestured away. "If you please...?"

"Certainly!" he agreed, adopting a bit of fun pomp. He bowed, one claw to his belly and the other opened towards the door. "After you."

---

The door to Applejack's second floor room rapidly gave way to her guidepony's push, swinging carelessly open.

But the leading pony didn't wait for her to enter first. He proceeded inside immediately himself, already halfway in by the time the swinging door clacked against the wall.

Applejack, following several steps behind him, wasn't phased. 'Follow your pony,' had been the earlier instructions and she was of the honest mind to comply to the letter, scarcely thinking about it at all.

By the time she entered he had already finished abandoning her saddlebags, dropping them out of his mouth and onto the floor only a few paces inside. His task complete he instantly turned around and began to leave.

"There you go. I'll be back to get you for dinner," he quickly reminded her as the two ponies crossed in opposite directions. He slowed not at all, nor even served her a glance.

"Thank you kindly," Applejack gave right back, bored and weary. She matched him for manners, not reducing speed or looking to him in any fashion. She merely carried on into her room. The last she caught of him was only the sound of the door closing behind her after he left.

Her room matched James' very closely. Perhaps the only difference of any significance whatsoever was that it was located on the back face of the building instead of the front. Therefore there was no powerful sunlight pouring in from under the curtain that blocked her balcony; simply a dim, gray light that left everything feeling like a blunt, fading evening. What view the curtain guarded was unknown.

And the farmpony really didn't care to find out. Moreover, she also ignored the giant wall mirror, the bathroom, her own saddlebags on the floor, and just about everything else. Instead she opted to shoot straight for the bed.

A standard bed at the Passion's Embrace was surprisingly big, a king size at least, dotted with four posts at the corners. Maybe they were even larger than the 'royal' beds from the fancy Baltimare hotel, but then again the smaller surroundings here might have created an illusion of hugeness (or vice versa back on the mainland.) The mattresses were a little pudgy on their sides and didn't flex with perfect firmness, but their tendency to smoothly balance any weight put upon them left quite a comfortable impression. Mostly the bed frames were made from a wood with a darkened grain, and they were reinforced with rounded braces of sturdy iron colored like old copper; overall capable of resisting fairly forceful loads. The headboards were tall but the hoofboards were very short, not rising above the mattress and so not blocking the view of the enormous wall mirror. Each board had curved tops that in their very centers were adorned with a carved design of the usual nose-nuzzling ponies.

All of the guests' beds save Spike's had been given a hoofspun quilt in case of colder nights, made from thick linen and laid folded upon the end of the mattress. They weren't decadent with embroidery; just two shades of color in a repeated grid of concentric squares. As a personal touch each guest had received different colors; Applejack's was orange and red.

Not that most of those details came to Applejack's attention either. Only an exhausted love for the bed before her was on her mind.

She tossed her hat aside, managing to ring it perfectly upon the wooden pony heads decorating the hoofboard. Trudging over to the bed she belly flopped onto it, burying herself into the pillow whose soft kiss back all but ate her face. The mattress shook a little from the blow, the rigid frame shuddered less so, and after a moment her weight settled into the bed's gentle embrace. Into the pillow she heaved a groan but by passing through the tender, pleasing softness the sound was reduced far below the threshold of brutal agitation.

She shouldn't have been this worn down, especially after the long boat ride where she had actually managed to successfully escape her wearisome friend. Ohhh... that prickly, rainbow-headed, barn pest of a pony! What a vacation this had started out as! Things would be as happy as a weekend hoedown when that pony's scrappy attitude finally blew over and everything went back to normal.

Before long she turned over onto her back, seeking a more comfortable position now that she had expelled some of her immediate frustration. She groaned again, weaker than before despite not choking on the pillow this time. After several more moments she shifted again, pushing herself up the bed by a small amount so that the pillow massaged her lower neck.

At last a more complete relaxation started to melt into her, and she finally took the time to throw her resting eyes about the room. Here and there things appeared mostly as she had guessed they would, a few elements struck her as different but otherwise no great surprise, and overall she imagined that she could catch some mighty slumber in the room. Not bad at all.

Her inspection came to a halt when she noticed one particular, peculiar thing. It was the lone item that stood out uniquely amongst everything else. Certainly it didn't feel like it was part of the standard room accoutrements.

Nearby, next to the lamp on the nightstand, was an apple.

Sitting herself up some more she scooched over on the bed to take a closer look. Hmm... good shine, a little small, didn't sit rightly because it was mildly misshapen (probably from hanging poorly in the apple tree,) and there was a tiny proto-bruise that would've been hard for most ponies to spot... Summed up: not a superior apple but a decent enough one anyway. It appeared fresh, at least; probably placed there on the nightstand earlier that very day. Did the chocolate stallion leave it there for her?

She reached out and rolled it onto her hoof. Placing her other hoof behind her head she laid back down and peered over the apple for another time. Despite it being ostensibly a closer look her second examination was more fleeting. Then she hummed a shrug and took a bite.

The juice inside played a flavor game between being sweet and tart. Could have stood to be a bit more juicy but it wasn't underwhelming that regard. And there was quite a satisfying amount of crunch.

She took another happy bite. Obviously it wasn't the greatest apple... but not bad. Not bad at all.

Back out in the hallway the pony who had guided Applejack to her room had never hesitated to continue on his way. After shutting her door he had immediately begun to walk down the hall in the direction of the lobby. He had taken an incredibly easygoing pace for his return trip; far easier than the way there. His hooves nudged along in minor steps while he swung his head about, looking from door, to door, to plant, to wall, to painting, to door, and then some.

He stopped upon noticing that a vase of flowers was off-center on its pedestal. He took some extra moments to nudge it back into place, and then a few moments more to make sure that it was perfectly aligned before he continued on his way. But he only stopped again shortly afterwards to straighten a painting on the wall, balancing it left, then right, then left again until it was finally level. After admiring his correction he moved on, and then stopped again. There was an unsightly bump in the central carpet; some squeezed up mound which had been caused by a pony trotting too carelessly and sliding the long rug about. Pressing his weight down on both sides of the blemish he stretched the carpet and leveled it out once more. That wasn't sufficient enough for him though and he trodded up and down the area slightly to make sure that the whole thing was flawlessly flat. When he was at last finished he carried on.

Emerging in the lobby he started to make his way around the gallery back towards the central staircase.

Cut into the front face of the building's second floor was a set of large, open windows, and beyond them a shadow flitted about. Then, breezing in with a current of unsettled worry, Nosedive swooped through one of them. He landed inside and, despite being caught up in haste, noticed the other stallion swiftly.

"Hey! Tilly!" the pegasus called at the other pony. He started to gallop around the gallery after his friend. "Plotts! Hey!"

Till, the chocolate-colored stallion, acknowledged with a glance and a tip of his head but he otherwise didn't stop or even rein back on his already slow speed.

"Hey!" It barely took Nosedive a cheetah's sprint to race around the gallery and catch up, and he braked into a walking pace that matched the other pony's. "Hey... Tilly."

"Yeah?" Till uttered with all the plainness of everyday conversation.

"Done already?" the pegasus remarked. Even knowing his mellow friend as well as he did he was astounded, yet more than concerned as well. However he couldn't hide the fact that he wasn't terribly troubled by sympathy; his own vexing issues were bleeding into his demeanor.

"You seem to be done already too," the earth stallion shrugged.

Nosedive's neck went limp and he flung his head down in discouragement. He murmured his short story, "Just got her to the room and was throwing down her bags in the corner when the purple one - the Princess's pony - showed up at the door. They ran off like that, before I even knew what happened. Before I even had the chance to say anything." More he crumpled, sighing through shattered confidence. "She didn't even give me a second look... Pff, who am I kidding; didn't even give me a FIRST look!"

"It's no big deal, Dive. Buck up," Till casually advised.

They reached the stairs and began descending together.

"No big deal?" coughed the pegasus, starting a slow sink into anxious depths. "Plotts, I don't think she even knows my name!"

"Take it easy."

Witnessing his friend's nonchalance and control, the exasperated Nosedive fired off, "How are you so calm about this? You introduce yourself to yours? Even talk to her?"

"Nah."

"Well... well... WHY?" the imbalanced pony demanded to know. Of their mission; of Till's absolute comfort with his decision; he had to know. "Why?"

The two ponies reached the bottom of the staircase, where the chocolate stallion finally stopped. He turned about to face his friend head on, halting the other pony as well, and then gave the pegasus a jovial slap on the side.

"You've never planted anything before in your life, have you Dive?" Till quipped.

"Like...," the confused Nosedive bemoaned, "... in the ground? How's THAT related?"

The other pony gained a modest but self-assured grin. Resuming his march he turned and walked towards the lobby's right exit, where the dining room was located, and the pegasus followed along behind him.

"When you want to grow a seed it's all about patience," explained Till flatly. "You have to WAIT for the right season to put it in the ground, you have to WAIT for the right times to water it, and you have to WAIT for it to grow."

They walked on for a silent moment more, Nosedive clearly expecting the lesson to continue. When it didn't... "... That means?"

The chocolate stallion chuckled and generously clarified, "Obviously she wasn't in the mood to talk. So I didn't talk to her."

---

The door to Fluttershy's fourth floor room just managed to give way to Humble Herd's limp push, swinging barely open.

The distressed stallion had stumbled forward all the way to the very end of the fourth floor hall. Unlike the other side of the building where the halls terminated with an opening out onto a rooftop terrace, on this side they came to a simple dead-end wall with a door; an end room.

Humble Herd swallowed the long-building lump in his throat, awash with the dreaded anticipation of having to actually speak to his chosen pony again. Backed not with any courage but more of a panicky haste he stood to one side of the door and tried to gesture towards the entrance, bow, and verbally invite her in all at once. Yet he only wound up making a fool of himself as his shaking coordination failed to tie everything together. His pointing leg faltered limply, and on only three legs his bow fumbled. The near spill he took onto the floor ruined his words since they degraded immediately into garbled, broken gasps.

Thankfully he succeeded in halting his tumble by dropping his lifted hoof back down, but the deep shifting of his weight caused Fluttershy's still loosely fitted saddlebags to fall forward on his body. The strap slid slightly over one of his forelegs, stiffly binding it close to his barrel, and he was thrown for a loop when he tried to move that leg but found it suddenly restricted. Struggling to steady his decaying balance as well as push the fallen bags back up he squirmed in front his confused and embarrassed guest for several uncomfortable moments before he finally, finally was able to restore himself. His awkward, unintentional dance ended with him standing slumped low like his usual dim-witted self, except of course his face had changed from being a faded, unremarkable, dusty peach color to a choking red. It went fittingly with the smile that he butchered.

"Uh... ah... y-your... your room. Miss. Please, um... please go ahead... You can... you can enter. Now."

Fluttershy kept her head low and, as much as she could, her eyes away from him. Slowly rushing past him she replied in a tiny voice, "Um... thank you." She went in and immediately pressed far into her room, even circling partially around the distant side of the bed, all in an attempt to gain as much personal space as she possibly could.

Her focus was far too inwardly directed to allow her observance of her own chamber, but compared to the other's hers was in a way equal AND dissimilar. All the rudimentary furniture was naturally present and in the same condition, save for of course the colors of the quilt she had been given (yellow and pink.) However the room was shaped somewhat differently owing to its position on the extreme edge of the Passion's Embrace. It was squatter, having less depth and more width; consequently the furnishings were segregated to fit, with the bed and nightstand on the right, and most everything else squeezed together on the left. The massive wall mirror, in other rooms found across from the hoofboards of the beds, could not fit in the changed setup and so instead was located to the side of the bed, mounted on the furthest wall and placed in between the central balcony exit and the room's right edge. The bathroom and closet were located on either side of the door but their entrances were parallel to the room's, not on the intruding perpendicular walls. In effect it gave the room a stubby little hall as an entryway.

Humble Herd wandered in after his guest though he dared not leave the safety of the tiny entryway. There he went about trying to undo the strap of her saddlebags, his hoof and teeth alternately clicking against the buckle as he continually bungled the task. It was a sort of negative feedback loop: he couldn't focus on the simple job as he kept helplessly glancing at Fluttershy and fearing the weight of her assuredly negative judgment, and that only damaged his fraught concentration more, thus crippling his ability to function. Finally, more from a stroke of luck than anything else, the tongue of the buckle popped loose and the strap slithered free, allowing him to set the bags down.

"So... here y-you are," he said, choking up a little despite the air not being so terribly stuffy.

"Ah... thank you," the quiet pegasus whispered back. Still she kept her gaze down, half-pretending to inspect her bed.

"W-Well... I, uh... I'm so g-glad to have met, ah... you. And... I'll... I'll go and be back to g-get you. F-For dinner, uh, I mean." Well before he had finished speaking he had begun to retreat, stepping backwards.

"Oh. Thank you."

"Okay. So, ah, I'll... I'll be-" His butt bumped against the door frame because of his unmindful, misaligned withdrawal. Jumping from the shock and scampering to center himself he belted out, "A-Anyway I'll be going! I-If you n-need anything t-then... t-then just ask! I'll, you know, h-help!"

"Um. Thank you."

Without really waiting for her acknowledgment Humble Herd whirled around. The sweating and shaking pony was out of there so fast that it was merely his wind which caught the door and gently pulled it closed. The faint click of the door's latch slotting into place wasn't nearly enough to drown out his flailing hooves beating against the carpet as he galloped away.

Fluttershy sucked in a massive breath. Searching inside for every last wiggle of tension within her body, from tail to hoof to the tip of her mane's curl, she pooled it all together in her lungs and then she let go. The anxious and troubled air streamed out of her lips, so thinly parted that she almost whistled.

She really should have been able to handle that whole situation better. It wasn't like she couldn't deal with other ponies. But something about how Humble Herd had approached her right from the start; something subtle in his performance; had crashed into her many chimes of social anxiety, setting off their discordant, chaotic music. It had almost felt like some specter of desire inside him had been probing the air about her, wanting to break down her walls, though at no point had he ever given a clear voice to such a thing. He had in fact kept his physical distance; had met all polite expectations. Or actually, exceeded them immensely in that regard. But in EMOTIONAL distance she couldn't shake the undefinable feeling that something of him had wanted to try and close the gap. To reach out to her, far beyond the normal rules of mannerly social engagement. And that she just couldn't handle.

Well he probably regretted his wish now. No doubt he hadn't approached her any closer because once he had gotten a good look at how she crumpled under such ordinary pressure he had probably been disgusted. What silent judgments had his head been full of? Harsh ones, certainly; unkind, contemptuous, and probably all justified and accurate. Look at how fast he had shot out of there, anxious to get away!

That was that, though. Why he would have ever fancied a possible closeness to a pony like her she couldn't say, but everything had turned out in the way it inevitably was always going to.

She sighed out her final ailing bits of unease and tried to return to being excited for her vacation on an island teeming with befriendable wildlife.

Her room she spent a few minutes exploring, familiarizing herself with the space. The curtain barring the balcony she drew back to let more light in as well as to sample the view; ahead and below the beautiful ocean stirred on the other side of the stony embankment, the beach to the right glowed with approaching evening light, and most wonderfully of all a lush and lively inland landscape grew to the left. Outside of the bed she didn't care much for most of the furnishings. No disdain for what had been provided; just not charmed, and at least it was entertaining to imagine the ways they could be converted into homes for little critters. The bathroom she found somewhat dainty but more than suitable for her needs, though again it was more fun to think about utilizing the tub as a watery pen for turtles.

Overall it was a quaint room. Very nice. Strange, though, that they had put her all the way up here when any old general room like this would have done fine. Why here? Besides the quilt there wasn't a single personalized touch to the chamber at all!

But the matter didn't long trouble her and she retrieved her saddlebags, tossing them onto her bed. Opening them up she began to sort out the few items she had brought along: a towel, a minimum number of personal products, a greater number of miscellaneous things for possible animal encounters, and then a small few zoological and ecological guides to the Carriaggean. As she laid them out on the bed, organizing them, she couldn't help but faintly sense an odd absence. Something was incorrect with her goods here but it was something that she almost felt unkeen to fully discover.

Enduring that back-of-mind wriggling she finished arranging her items. Once everything was in order on her bed and ready to be put away in their temporary places she decided to start with her toiletries. Intent on making one run she grabbed everything, using her wings to hold excess as necessary, and turned to head into the bathroom.

But a knocking that rang at her door caused her to freeze in place, and a few bottles slipped, plunked, and rolled on the floor.

Too soon. Far too soon. It had only been several minutes and she was NOT ready to deal with Humble Herd again. Already the pit of her stomach felt consumed by a returning, chronic, crippling nervousness, leaving her almost physically unable to answer the door.

The knocking came again. "Hello? Fluttershy?" James called through the wooden barrier.

Fresh energy washed over her and her shrunken body stood itself up fully in an instant. "Oh! Coming!"

Quickly she picked up her spill and returned everything to the bed, mindful about positioning them neatly, and then she trotted for the door. No delay or even a single readying breath was needed to brace herself for such a friend and she opened the door immediately.

"Hey!" the man greeted with a single wave of his hand. He was in a remarkably upbeat mood.

"Oh! Hello, James! It's ever so good to see you!" she poured out with desperate relief, though she winced at her slip up right away. Shooting down her gaze she mumbled, "Not that... we weren't just all together minutes ago."

But he didn't seem to notice anything amiss with her at all. If anything he was happy to see that she had already moved past his earlier transgression of social taboos. It would make delivering the apology she was owed that much easier.

While giving a peek around her he asked eagerly, "This isn't a bad time or anything, is it?"

She perked up. "Oh, no. No, not at all." Then, sensing his next question she preemptively stepped aside, saying, "Come on in."

With a nod of thanks he strode inside, as jolly as a tail-wagging puppy prancing back indoors after a roll in the grass. His eyes rapidly sniffed about her room with the same kind of eager curiosity, picking apart how her chamber compared and contrasted to his. Before long though his firm conviction put away those more frivolous thoughts and took a solid hold of him. Readily he chose the dresser as his ground, and he stood before it showing an unreserved purpose which didn't eclipse his bright demeanor.

"So," he opened to her without hesitating, "the reason I'm here is because I need to apologize."

Fluttershy, after having shut the door, gave the man an uncertain look. She truly didn't recall what he could have been talking about.

"Back in the garden I said some things that... weren't terribly appropriate," he explained. Nothing of insincerity in his voice, no clouded guilt in his gestures; he was very direct, already past acceptance. "I got careless; rude even; and certainly discourteous. And I let my mouth run off in a way I shouldn't have. I get now how very uncomfortable I made everypony." Faith in friendship shined. "I'm really sorry about that."

"Oh." The memory sailed back into her, importing much of its mortifying, awkward cargo. But, though she reddened and tightened up nervously from many of his unmentionable euphemisms echoing in her head, she didn't fall apart. "Yes, it was very... um...," she cautiously put out, but eventually she declined to describe his behavior and moved on.

Just like that she was able to let go. Free, easy, grateful, and adoring, she smiled, "... But... thank you for saying that you're sorry."

Again James gave a nod of thanks, equally grateful for her forgiveness.

"Now...," he spoke. The man stepped back, taking a leaning seat against her dresser. With the serious task settled he let something altogether more fun take over. Knowing his audience, and given that he had just apologized for his own rudeness, he chose to carry forward at least somewhat gingerly. It was hard not to let out a LITTLE of his mischievousness to play though. "... there was one more thing I came up here for."

The pegasus flashed another uncertain look, and she gave an especially wondering turn to her head when she saw him dig his hand into his pocket.

Inside it he squeezed his grip tight, producing a hard crinkling sound. His lips ran back into a smirking grin. Evenly he withdrew what he had seized, pulling it out of his pocket and up into the air besides him where it dangled: the sapphire heart necklace that had been in her saddlebags when she had given them to Humble Herd.

"This is yours, right?" the man teased. He was effortlessly treading upon certainty.

But on Fluttershy's face her pupils retreated a distance back and a red tide marched over her cheeks, flooding the bridge of her nose. She suddenly recalled why earlier her gut hadn't felt terribly eager to search for anything she might have been missing.

Shrinking, with her ashamed face turning away, she murmured, "Y-Y... yes..."

Damn. Okay, better stop with the innocent needling before things went too far (if they hadn't already.) James put an immediate lid on his inner devil.

"Yeah. I thought I saw you wearing it the other day last week," he expressed much more directly. While still holding the chain the man cupped the blue heart with his other hand, looking it over and bending his mind towards trying to genuinely admire the trinket. Or if he could not admire what it looked like, at least admire what it represented. "Plus... this is the one you bought for P.V., right? So he could win over Star Glitter?" Her gift to a stranger, borne entirely by her dedication to the very idea of their romance. Her belief in love.

"Y-Yes...," the cringing pegasus croaked again.

He released the stone from his one hand, surmising, "It must have fallen out of your bags when butterhooves took a tumble back there. What a stroke of luck that I caught sight of it while walking by or it might've been lost forever." Warmly he held it out towards her. "Here you are."

"T-Thank you." She approached his offering at a skewed angle, never quite turning her face towards it. Not even a direct glance when she took the chain in her teeth! Once she had it she made a brisk trot to her bed where she recklessly threw it amongst her organized things, and then for good measure she shifted her saddlebags over it to cover it.

All were timid motions despite their speed, and none of them escaped the man's notice.

"Why'd you keep it?" he carefully asked.

"I don't know...," she said in a low moan. Then, uncomfortably establishing her story, "I couldn't find the vendor to return it to."

"Is that all?" shrugged James. "Hey. All the better." He thought again about what the necklace was; about what she had originally purchased it for, and why. "It's really very beautiful."

Fluttershy still sagged. She uneasily hooked a hoof into the strap of her smothering saddlebags and drew them back scantly; only enough to catch slivers of the silver and blue underneath.

"I probably shouldn't have brought it along on this trip," she sighed underneath a layer of self-directed chastisement. Her leery gaze lingered on the faintly poking out gem, the sterling shine of it still suppressed under her rumpled bag. The sight of it eventually overcame her and she forcefully slapped the saddlebags back over the entire necklace.

In her own soft brand of harshness she lamented, "It's useless. I shouldn't have even kept it at all."

"Why not?" the man inquired, bringing his voice down to match hers in height.

"It's not for me..." A weight pressed down on her. She stayed standing, but she was enduring it. "You know," she hoisted her head up as if to laugh, though nothing but a dejected dribble came out, "it's really kind of... kind of silly... for a pony to buy a romantic gift for themselves..."

He waved his hand against her claim, saying, "But you didn't do that. You bought it for P.V."

"Oh, he didn't need it..."

"Well... it COULD'VE helped him, maybe," James countered without any force. The man then bent forwards and shared his take, dipping into a serious gentleness, "But he decided not to use. He came up to a very hard and dangerous moment and... he DECIDED he had the right stuff within himself already. He just reached deep down inside himself and pulled out something truly courageous."

He sat back up, reflected on it for a moment, and then added with heartfelt veneration, "Just like you do all the time."

Snapping up to glance at him, the pegasus was struck dumb at first. Belief had to fight a hard battle to take hold, so clearly gaining ground only inch by inch. But she did start to smile, able once again to hold her gaze on somepony other than the floor.

"You're always so very kind with your words," she spoke up in rosy praise.

"Hah, no. Hardly," he chuckled. "I mean, given what I came up here to apologize for? What I still need to apologize to the others for?" Swinging his arm he threw out her compliment, but only playfully; affection and gratitude he retained without an ounce of resistance. Yet he centered himself calmly so that he could show his admiration another time: "But... in this case... since I was just saying something honest it made it pretty easy to be kind, I guess."

She gave a short peek back at her bedresting saddlebags. It felt like the unseen necklace underneath radiated so much less threat now. Easier and easier came her breaths.

"And hey!" the man bounced off the dresser, "Seeing your necklace inspired me! It made me remember that I have one of my own now and I grabbed it out of my bag just before coming to see you." His contented hand patted his other pocket, drawing attention to the fact that it was as stuffed as his first pocket had been. Only a little shamelessly indulgent, he made a show of reaching in and producing the item therein: the Drypony medallion Poppy had presented him with as a parting gift.

Proudly he held it up above his head, stretched the thin vine-string wide, and let the trinket down to hang around his neck. Two of his fingers carefully adjusted the pendant, which unaided would have fallen between his shirt and his chest. He centered it, planting it intentionally over his top so that it could stay visible, and he chuckled once more from witnessing the hungry darkness which the red crystal blossom spouted because of his lack of magic.

"Not quite as charming as yours," he quipped, "but I'm going to rock it as best as I can anyway."

"Hehe," twittered Fluttershy. She unchained her happiness, glowing with it now, and said, "I think it's VERY charming. After all, it was given to you by a pony who really loves you, and that makes it very special."

"Sure," James grinned and nodded in agreement, "that's why I'm going to wear it." He worked himself into a silly pose, holding out the pendant with one hand and the base of his shirt with the other. Laughing, he honestly disclosed, "I mean, besides that there's no other good reason to! It doesn't go at all with Rarity's dumb ensemble here. But I can't look any worse, so why not?"

At first he didn't understand the pony's surprised reaction; he couldn't correctly read the reason behind her contorted, narrowed face. Only when he caught her studying his clothes did his misstep become apparent.

He fumbled for cover, rambling falsely, "Haha! I mean, of course, myself... only me. I don't look great, alone. And... these clothes by Rarity... are the only thing that... you know... are good." His hand grasped and rattled the medallion, "And... what shamelessness to think I know enough to add to her... creation. I mean, I'm a clothes-idiot; I wouldn't know what goes well with her setup at all. Um..."

He coughed; a worthless action to clear his unobstructed throat. Hastily he slammed into an abrupt conclusion, "So, yeah, right, I'm wearing it anyway. Because... Poppy."

The unsure pegasus was left blinking before she finally uttered, "Are-"

"Yeah, fine, thanks, anyway," the man scrambled to move on.

He rushed towards the bed where he reached over the short hoofboard and shuffled her saddlebags aside. Half-sitting between the hoofboard and the mattress end he pointed at the waiting necklace and questioned, "Why don't you wear yours?"

"Oh...," Fluttershy swallowed, attacked again by her nervousness. With hardly any thought she dismissed, "No... it... it wasn't given to me by anypony special..." Then softer, downcast, "It doesn't mean anything..."

"Nah," James encouraged. He leaned closer, his presence raising and capturing her eyes. "It means a lot that you showed faith in it to help P.V. That's what you put into it; that's more important than who did or didn't give it to you. In the end it's going to mean whatever you want to make it mean."

Using a single finger he hooked the necklace's chain and steadily dragged it along the surface of the bed, having some fun with winding it around the pony's other lingering items. When he reached the edge he lifted it up and gently swung the sapphire heart back and forth before her.

"So don't let anything about it bother you," he said. "No doubt in my mind that it'll look great on you. Go ahead; put it on. Then I won't be the only pony around here wearing some neck bling." Securing his hold on the chain he opened it up with both hands and jiggled it once, inviting her in.

"And," he added with goofy seriousness, "if anypony DARES to question you about why you're wearing it... then you can just point at me, flip your mane, and scoff, 'Well if HE gets to wear THAT then why can't I wear mine?'"

Faint signs of acceptance appeared: the blush on Fluttershy's face warmed to a happier, less sullen red; her wings moved to sit more comfortably, hovering in a less cagey position that wasn't so ready for fleeing flight; and the unbending of her knees let her unwinding tail fall fully down without touching the ground. But she continued to hold back, saying nothing.

Again he jiggled the necklace as an invitation. When reluctance still held her back he shuffled an inch closer and ducked in towards her. A secretive silliness oozed out of him as he delayed and delayed until he finally whispered, "Tell everypony you totally got it from a handsome prince who's so rich he wears a second crown over his crown."

At that she snickered, having an ounce of contained laughter for the funny thought. But it was enough to wipe out the last upright resistances of hesitation and doubt, clearing room for her smile. Buttressed by sturdy hope she tenderly yielded her neck forward for him, and he planted the necklace on her like laying the final cherry on a cake.

"Looking good," the man assured her, flipping a thumb up.

Fluttershy fiddled with the pendent that now rested against her, prodding it with her hoof carefully. She peered once past James and over her bed, to the giant mirror on the wall. There she saw herself, an unremarkable, weak-willed pony who wasn't much at all to look at. But on the center of her chest stood out the blue heart, shimmering to the beat of her own heart underneath.

"Thank you...," she said.

He shrugged.

"So... anyway...," the man picked up after a breathing moment, "... I still have to apologize to the others for my buffoonery earlier but... I just realized that I never asked Prism where the other rooms are. Do you mind if I hang here until dinner?"

"Oh, no, not at all," she was pleased to respond. He would be wonderful company while she put away her things. And more significantly he could serve as a nice buffer whenever Humble Herd eventually returned.

---

The door to Rarity's fifth floor room courteously gave way to Sweet Nothing's push, swinging cordially open.

He had taken her all the way up to the top floor of the Passion's Embrace and had then guided her far down to the very end of the hall. Her room was another end room; the one immediately above Fluttershy's.

To one side of the open doorway he brought himself, sturdy with undented poise despite all the luggage he had carried such a long way. Between his grace and the runs of sparkling sweat marching down him, a heat poured into the face of his trailing mare.

"Your chamber. After you, my lovely lady." Encumbered, he STILL bowed flawlessly.

Giggling erratically Rarity attempted to enter her room.

Before she had gotten even a hoof past the door Sweet Nothing very precisely gave her a verbal tickle, "Oh! I hope it won't bother you but I took the liberty of dressing up your room somewhat."

The mare, her eyes at first turned back to listen to him, flung her face forward to behold her chamber.

Though it had the same size, shape, and layout of the room only a floor below, it was much, much more colorful. It was positively flooded with fragrant rainbows; arrangements of radiant flowers floating in a pageantry of colorful vases! A few sat in a line at the foot of the bed; several fine examples of beautiful blossoms were banded together on the dresser; a parade of them ran around the walls of the room, their petals bright banners waved high; and even more bouquets were tied to the sconces that hung on the walls! Every last flower was of a finer variety; the kind whose appearance was sometimes hard to remember because the far-reaching scent filled the body's senses so fully; transcendental flavors that entered through the nose but could somehow be tasted and touched.

"Oh my goodness gracious..."

The stunned unicorn took sightless steps in, blinded by the forest of brilliant flowers. The crowds of petaled spectators cheered her on with their maelstrom of savory scents. Sniffing deeper and deeper her nose was pulled from here to there about the room. But it wasn't just the sensuous buffet firing up her mind. There was something more...

She recognized these different flowers! All could be found in many places the world over but these weren't the run-of-the-mill versions. Certain distinct iterations were so famously tied to the specific regions in which they were specially grown; elegant flowers for the discerning lady or gentlecolt, identifiable from nuanced traits readable only by a pony of impeccable taste. And she spotted them all immediately: Fillydelphia azaleas, Manehattan lilacs, San Palomino lilies... but most especially present, prominent, and numerous of all were the Saddle Arabian flowers. Roses, jasmines, alyssum, and more, all from that fabled land! These couldn't have all been grown here! And to gather them all would have taken quite some doing!

After a timeless delirium chasing all of the unique, sweet smells she found herself besides the bed with its accompanying white and violet quilt. Shivering with each exhale she finally turned around to look back.

Sweet Nothing had predictably followed her inside, carrying all her luggage in with him. He was now in front of the wall which partitioned off the bathroom and was laying down his cargo, and already he had much of it unloaded. What's more, what was dropped was expertly sorted; arranged without error by weight, size, and sturdiness.

Oh, but with his body so unobstructed by baggage now could she ever get a good look him! He was not slumped over with soreness, nor slowed by crick or cramp anywhere inside. The only sign of his entire labor at all was the rolling sweat which traced majestic, glistening lines down his fine form. As he organized the final bags to be set down; shuffling to drop them off his back, lifting them to place them here or there as appropriate; his muscles moved to a choreographed dance. His body was a ballet and Rarity was the enraptured audience.

And he knew it.

The statuesque stallion took his sweet time to get the last few bits of luggage down and placed. Every step, every turn, every nudge, every twist; he made it a show. And after he finally completed his job he made sure to give a few good stretching poses as an encore.

"There you are, my beautiful pony," he said to the staring unicorn, indicating her stacked baggage. "And... what do you think of your room?"

She didn't break her eyes from him. "It's... quite gorgeous. A... spectacular display, really..."

"Mm. I'm pleased that you're pleased."

Confidently he dared to take a few steps closer, and he lowered himself near the floor in a display of subservience. "I will gladly be your PERSONAL attendant here during your stay," he informed her. "If there is anything you should ever need; anything at all; then only whisper the word and I will see it done. I am at your beck and call."

The blushing mare melted. "Oooh, most generous of you, kind sir," she warbled in a daze.

"Most lucky of me to be able to satisfy a pony of such magnificent grace and charm, darling beauty." Sweet Nothing stood up and approached her, drawing the distance closed like one might draw a final curtain before retiring to the nocturnal embrace of another. He came before her, genuflected again, and once more raised her hoof to sanctify it with one of his kisses.

Rarity wobbled back and forth, and the reply she tried to produce was mostly senseless words buttered up with rabid giggling.

Releasing her, the dark stallion started to make his way towards the door to leave, moving in backwards steps while keeping his head bowed and never turning away from her.

But as he neared the mini-hall formed by the protruding closet and bathroom he stopped. Cunning and prepared, he mentioned precisely, "Perhaps... before I go... you should inspect your closet?"

The unicorn came to her senses, raised to suspicion by his odd suggestion but not otherwise suspicious of his unknown motive. From the outside the closet appeared plenty spacious enough to hold the few dresses she had brought along for possible social occasions of various degrees in elegance (and also the few extra emergency dresses she had additionally packed.) Of course she supposed there was no harm in checking; maybe it was smaller on the inside, or lacked extra hangers, or some other such nuisance.

Moving closer, a light jumped from her horn to the twin folding doors of the closet and she pulled them apart. But the shine of magic fell away as quickly as it had appeared, and she gasped.

The closet was already occupied by a few dresses. Her magic returned and the glowing light slowly trembled as it took them all out one at a time. One. Two. Three. Four. Her awe had control of them, floating them along so that they encircled her, and her mesmerized gaze dreamily watched each pass by as they drifted in loops around her.

One was the deepest, most heavenly blue, weaved from a soft fabric as warmly lit as the night sky, and it was covered in glittering stars; with it came a tempting veil which would accentuate the eyes. Another gown had many falling folds rendered in glorious purple, with golden trimmings that worked their way into a decorative saddle-like shape on the back, and more along the neck that mimicked the shape of reins but were encrusted with jewels. The last two dresses were equally elite. All were of wealthy cloth that was fabulously rich in color, stitched and knitted together in a unique, olden, foreign way. Again her particular skill set and knowledge left her the ability to pick out the specifics, and she understood beyond doubt... these outfits were AUTHENTIC! Unbelievable!

"Why... are these here?" she asked, so absorbed in looking them over.

"They're yours," Sweet Nothing informed her while taking pride in himself.

Muddled, and yet still fixed on the dresses, Rarity remarked in confusion, "We're... being supplied with gowns for our stay...?"

"No, no. They're YOURS," the stallion repeated clearly. He came forward again, abandoning his exit. "They're a gift. Something to show how honored I am to witness your marvelous beauty."

The whirling dresses came to a stop.

"Come again?" the unicorn whispered in the dead stillness.

Out of his wide grin he reiterated, "They're yours. Forever."

"B-B-But...," she wheezed in exhilaration. The dresses returned to life and flurried about in front of her, and every prick of thrill she felt inside just thinking about claiming them was equally matched by appalled disbelief at this impossible fantasy. "... B-But these... t-these are Saddle Arabian ORIGINALS!" she exclaimed. "H-How...? Each one ALONE must cost more than an entire week's stay at a resort like this!"

A buzz moved through the stallion, from mane to tail. Perfect!

"They're nothing the resort has done," he made absolutely sure to clarify. "I acquired them for you myself. As I said: a gift. A gift, from ME to you."

The open-jawed mare still couldn't scrounge up the wits to believe it.

Seeing her like that, having anticipated it, and savoring the chance it gave him to elaborate, Sweet Nothing hoisted himself up grandly. He stood tall like regal robes had been cast over him and it was beneath him to let them be soiled by the floor, and his head was drawn down like a heavy crown was upon him.

"My family originally comes from Saddle Arabia, and we still have connections to Saddle Arabian royalty," he eagerly revealed, barely burying his bragging. "After I received word of your coming I sent a letter back home asking for some of the finest gowns they could gather, and of course they supplied me immediately with the only very best." Again he bowed, "And they're yours now."

For another time the tornado of dresses calmed as Rarity's focus was stolen away, this time by the luxuriously handsome stallion. Saddle Arabia? Yes, of course! She saw it in him now as clearly as the brilliance of the centerpiece jewel in Princess Celestia's crown! Those lean, long legs... that lengthier snout which was supernaturally fair... the tantalizing curve of his neck and mane... the shapely and trim arch of his whole body... He gave off a flavor so enticing and exotic! Oh, and it was only the accent on an evening dress that he was also so appreciably wealthy!

She started to drunkenly stagger to the side, with the dresses she was magically carrying swaying about as badly as she was. Coming alongside her bed she felt a natural gravity pulling her towards it; the soft mattress calling out to her and letting her know it would catch her weight were her fainting feelings to overcome her. However, too weak-kneed to climb up, she threw her back aside the side of the bed instead. Her neck went limp, and her head fell back and crashed with a poof onto the mattress.

Up above, her new outfits continued their groggy bouncing about. With every swish across or twirl around they descended, coming down lower and lower. When they reached so low that their dangling skirts swept across her nose she at last let them down in guided drifts, falling over like bedsheets, one at a time. Around came her forelegs and she squeezed tight, hugging her precious, precious new clothes as desperately as a foal would hug their teddy bear. She rocked her body back and forth, snuggling the gifts from the hunky pony, and her cheeks puffed out as her giddy delight forced its way past her lips.

"Teeheeheehehehehahahahohohohoheeeee!"

The dark stallion feigned departure, starting to walk to the door. But once near it; once in position; he made his next move.

"My lady...," he called out, stopping in his tracks again. "... I... really shouldn't be asking this. It's... it's much too improper... but... I'm helpless in the face of your beauty..." As much as he could he forced himself to blush, and he turned about and took precisely timid steps back towards her. "If... if it isn't too much to ask of you," he approached her with all the humility of a weasel, "might I be blessed with... seeing what you look like in one of those dresses?"

So much blood rushed into Rarity's face that she felt herself go numb. She even thought she had turned deaf, hearing only the heavy pounding of her heart. It cracked like a hoof striking against wood.

"Knock, knock."

The stallion jumped at the interruption, and the unicorn as well once she realized what was going on, scattering the dresses into the air in her startled panic (though they fortunately landed safely on the bed, undamaged.) They both turned in surprise to face the unanticipated voice and the accompanying sound of a hoof tapping against the door. It had been left open all this time, and now standing there was a large pegasus and a diminutive dragon.

"Summer Wind! What are you-," Sweet Nothing hissed, harsh and hoarse. But he caught himself and reined in his growl immediately. Formality overwriting him, stance, tone, and all, he restarted, "I mean... how unexpected to see you. Shouldn't you be showing YOUR guest to their room?"

The recent tumble of Humble Herd still fresh in her mind, the pegasus practically delighted in the veiled, justified antagonism she could display towards the dark stallion. Served him right.

"Oh, I did already." An hidden outline of smugness wrapped her words. She entered the chamber, strutting as she came. "But you see... SOMEPONY accidentally took the wrong bags with them back at the dock. So... we had to come up here to retrieve Mister Spike's things. You understand, of course."

Sweet Nothing glared. "I see," he smoldered. "That was my mistake." He walked over towards the stacked luggage, dealing out constrained stomps the whole way, and he made the rapid suggestion, "Perhaps you'd like to collect his things quickly then, and be on your way?"

Summer Wind smirked, secretly enough to keep it away from the guests but not so hidden that her fellow islander couldn't detect it. Defying the stallion's wish she used her hoof to signal Spike that it was okay to enter.

Gladly the dragon did, ambling in while gawking at the garden that had apparently been set up in the room.

"Hey, Rarity!" he waved, chipper as he ever was despite being taken aback by the overabundance of flowers. "Nice room!"

"Oh, Spike, isn't it?" His familiar and friendly presence grounded her, bringing her back to form. Most of her whims and thoughts regarding the dark stallion breezed out of her mind, largely because now she had someone around that she knew definitely how to crow to. And she enjoyed every moment of sharing her prizes: "Look at them all! Aren't they grand? They're from all over Equestria! Oh, and these dresses! Aren't they just fabulous? Saddle Arabian originals! Oh, can you believe it? Why, if anypony had ever asked me if they'd see me in a genuine Saddle Arabian made dress I'd have laughed at the notion; not any old pony can get their hooves on one of these, you know! But now I have four! FOUR! I'm going to be the chicest pony in all of Ponyville for seasons to come!"

"Yeah, wow! That's awesome, Rarity!" the dragon agreed. The dresses hardly mattered though; her happiness was his happiness, and he fully believed anyway that she could make any gown the greatest at a gala. "The only thing my room had was a gigantic bed, but I'm not complaining."

While they continued to indulge each other's respective personalities, Summer Wind set about her task. The walk up to the fifth floor had given Spike the time to describe to her his two bags, and so she began to search over the luggage pile Sweet Nothing had made. Not before, of course, she gave the stallion a devilish grin.

Unable to work on his target with the little lizard in his way the angry pony joined the busy pegasus, furiously murmuring to her, "What do you think you're doing?"

"My JOB." At that same moment she found one of the target bags, a simple sack heavy with gems, and she demonstrated her point by slotting it around her neck. Then she sneered back at him, "What are YOU doing?" She passed her eyes over the elaborate floral displays he had set up in the room, as well as the dresses Rarity was still gushing over, and she shook her head in disgust. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Not one to take such an insult lying down he stabbed her in response, grimly uttering, "Envy hardly becomes you."

"Please. As if," she snorted, revolted. Despite that however, a reticent shiver rolled through her.

Sweet Nothing only grunted his disagreement.

It took just a moment longer for Summer Wind to locate the second bag, which she promptly threw around herself as well. Even that second weight was nothing for her massive neck.

"Mister Spike," she called politely for the dragon, "are these the ones?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. That's them," Spike courteously heeded her with his full attention, taking a minimal moment to break from Rarity, which only slightly surprised the latter.

"There; you have his things," the dark stallion spat under his breath. "Get a move on."

The pegasus looked between the charitable dragon that she was more than happy to serve and the disgruntled pony who was wishing her away with every fiber of his being. Hm...

"Mister Spike," she spoke up again, with words half-directed at her awful coworker. "I'll carry these back down to your room for you. Feel free to stay up here. In fact, I insist! It will make it easy to find you when it's time for dinner."

It seemed like that was the dragon's plan anyway, but regardless he showed genuine appreciation. "Sure. Thanks!"

The dark stallion was left fuming. He had a sharp dagger-stare which he pitted against Summer Wind's cheeky shield of a smile.

But the pegasus wasn't finished causing problems for him. She suddenly drooped her strong neck, and the two bags jostled each other as she 'struggled.' The pony happily groaned, "Ugh, these are pretty heavy. I don't know that I'll be able to haul them all the way downstairs. Do you mind lending me a hoof, Sweet Nothing?"

"You-!"

"THANKS!" She flung one of the bags over his neck just as her near-scream drew the momentary notice of the guests.

"We'll be on our way now," the tricky pegasus swiftly assured them. "Take it easy, and one of us will be back to get you for dinner." She bowed, as professional as can be for somepony cackling on the inside, and then she immediately left the room.

The two guests bought her story completely and returned to conversing with each other about their excitement for the days ahead.

Grinding his teeth at the departed pony, Sweet Nothing looked once more at the unicorn he had been denied and how she wasted herself babbling to the dragon. His marvelousness had been forgotten completely. Bah. This was not the end.

He heaved out one hot breath, spent a moment fixing all the issues with his presentation that his anger had induced, and then cleared his throat loudly so he could cast his farewell. "Miss Rarity, I-"

"Woah," Spike gasped, pointing past the mare to the closed balcony curtain, "you probably get a heck of a view up here on the top floor!"

"Oh dear, Spike, you're right!" Rarity was equally enthralled. "There's so much in here already that I hardly thought about it! Let's take a peek, shall we?"

As they went off to drink in the island vista Sweet Nothing grumbled indiscernibly to himself. BAH! Fine, that was it for now.

He wouldn't let his head drop. This was only the beginning; there were going to be other opportunities. His wrathful dignity intact he marched out of the room, being as careless as he could with the bag around his neck. As he left he stopped himself short of slamming the door.

Comments

[Coranth]

I still say something about this resort seems... off. But I just can't put my finger on what?

[Jack Kellar]

Tilled Plotts is a smart one. Gotta look out for him, he's one of the most likely ones to succeed, and maybe not just with AJ.

Summer Wind seems bent on having some fun now that she has seen that Spike is at best a teenager, not a child but still excessively young for her original plans. Seems to me she'll be one of the select few that will derail the hostel's efforts by pointing Spike in the "wrong" direction. The boy is smart.

Nosedive is neutral.

Humble Herd mirrors Fluttershy well... too well. He has the same paranoia of judgment as her, something that goes beyond shyness. That's a good thing, it should hamper most if not all of his efforts.
And speaking of Flutters... wow, that was more perceptive of her than I'd thought. She picked up on Herd's job already, now she only has to fully realise what it means in the end and what it entails before that.

The RariNothing scene was awfully predictable and consequently boring up until the interruption. The amount of frankly unnecessary detail you cram into their "he baits, she swoons" shindig is getting old, Zurock. Seriously, it doesn't get much more flat than this in any of your stories, including the beginning of What Separates.

It's a GREAT thing Summer took Spike there. Perhaps a true friend there, visible and palpable and audible, will put a nice crack in the perfect seduction facade Sweet Nothing has draped over Rarity's eyes like a pair of blinds, and have it there so she is forced to remember who it is she has TRUE bonds with when Nothing inevitably either overdoes his role or antagonizes Spike in front of her, whichever the foppish assclown does first.

And I'm still bummed that nobody so much as entertained the idea of calling James 'Jim'!

[Zurock]

6169322

The RariNothing scene was awfully predictable and consequently boring up until the interruption. The amount of frankly unnecessary detail you cram into their "he baits, she swoons" shindig is getting old, Zurock.

I thought it was important to get in at least one scene where they're alone and it can be demonstrated just how swift and aggressive Sweet Nothing's style is, and exactly how unendingly far he takes it. At this point how he behaves is clear and it is completely predictable what will happen if and whenever he gets alone with her again, reducing the need to go into details in the future. Aside from that though there are some important details that did get mentioned: the fact that he gives her flowers and dresses has another purpose, and that he talks about his family is important (Gallowayo also talked about his family.)

And I'm still bummed that nobody so much as entertained the idea of calling James 'Jim'!

I figure: the narration certainly isn't going to do it, being narration. To the ponies his name is theoretically exotic and foreign so they aren't going to do it either (I chose to give him an extremely common, one syllable name for precisely the reason that it contrasts with the very evocative names most ponies have. Of course the show occasionally throws in "regular" names but... meh.) That leaves James himself as the only source of such a thing. So it sort of depends on if he's the kind of person to refer to himself by a nickname... and apparently after over 350,000 words I've decided that so far he is not. *Shrug*.

[Jack Kellar]

6170169

I thought it was important to get in at least one scene where they're alone and it can be demonstrated just how swift and aggressive Sweet Nothing's style is, and exactly how unendingly far he takes it.

It may be just me, but that's not any different from how he seduced Rarity in front of everyone else. That scene was a rewinded tape, because you've already established how Nothing is. An "alone" scene of that length would be more warranted if he behaved differently from before, like the insight we had on Plotts, but he does not, in no way whatsoever. There's something called the Law Of Conservation Of Detail, which really should be followed at least to half its extent if the writer doesn't want to bore the readers.

Really, the only REALLY interesting part of that was when he got cock-blocked by Spike and especially Wind. That was one thing that broke the monotony.

Aside from that though there are some important details that did get mentioned: the fact that he gives her flowers and dresses has another purpose, and that he talks about his family is important (Gallowayo also talked about his family.)

... you sneaky bugger. Disguising plot points among the scenery porn is genius. I really thought Sweet Noithing was just bragging more with his "noble ancestry".

Also, the second paragraph was meant to be facetious, hence the exclamation mark. I'm kinda surprised you didn't pick up on the fact that I never used one when criticising the story before

[KvAT]

6168194
Imma guess that its a cult behind a love hotel facade