• Published 26th May 2016
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How Spike Kinda Sorta Maybe Married a Changeling - somatic



Spike doesn't understand what went on, either. All he knows is that several thousand bugs call him "daddy" now.

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1: Celestia Needs Reading Glasses

“And in conclusion, the Duchy of Trotsworth declares the Stratocracy of Featheringston to be stupid rumps.”

“Your majesty, the Stratocracy of Featheringston respectfully denies that accusation, and counters that the Duchy of Trotsworth picks its snout!”

That was not, of course, what the diplomats were saying. Nonetheless, it was what Celestia heard, hours at a time in her dreaded Day Court. Your majesty, this. Your majesty, that. Sanction this, sanction that. Declaration of aggression, movement to condemn; just fancy words for schoolyard bickering. She felt like a teacher overlooking a class of unruly foals.

What were the Duchy and Stratocracy arguing about? Oh, yes. Water rights to a stream. Not even a river, a stream. And in the process, both parties had managed to offend the other’s honor.

She let out a long sigh, and a few observant guards could swear they saw the sunlight dim a little.

“Will the princess please acknowledge that the Featheringston diplomat licks boogers?”

“Motion to denounce Trotworth on the basis of its smelly flank!”

It was going to be a long day. So long, it seemed like she’d started hallucinating. That drift of green smoke coming through the window looked almost like…

“Guards! Cancel Day Court, Spike needs my help!”

The golden-plated soldiers pushed the diplomats out of the throne room, still throwing insults and notarized documents of displeasure at each other.

The smoke quickly coalesced into a thick parchment scroll, large enough for a dragon to scrawl on. Spike never did write much lately, or send telegrams, or even pop on that newfangled contraption—what was it called? Tuberphone? Telephone?—so any message from him was cause for celebration.

Gripping the letter in her aura, Celestia brought it before her eyes. And squinted. Heavens, Spike’s handwriting truly had degraded since he stopped sending Twilight’s reports for her.

You are cordially—Celestia thought that said “cordially,” though honestly it could just be a scribble—invited to the marriage of Master Kenbroath Gilspotten Heathspike…

“Oh, that’s Spike!” He rarely used his full name, but it did lend an air of formality to this… wedding… invitation…

Whisper-quiet came the words “My son is getting married.” Guards had to strain their ears to hear her.

Celestia rose up quick as lightning, her throne shaking a little from her movement. This time, she shouted. “My son is getting married!” Again. “My son is getting married! Guards, inform the royal bakers! We shall have a jewel cake! Nay, a thousand jewel cakes!”

She cantered from her throne, almost bouncing on the crimson carpet. Twirling in the air, she exclaimed, “Married! I’ll have grandfoals!”

Her forehooves rubbed together as she landed with a thud. Glancing about, she muttered “Stars know Twilight was never going to give me any.”

Another bouncing step. The floor quivered a bit under her weight—she had packed on a little belly in the last millennium, she admitted.

“Wedding bells are ringing, ding-a-ling-a-ling! Oh, guards, tell the royal choir to prepare a few love songs! No, recant that order! Prepare all the love songs!”

Princess Celestia bounded up and down the Canterlot corridors, her sing-song voice ricocheting off stained-glass windows and crystal chandeliers. Diplomats and politicians scurried out of the way of her gold-shod hooves. The royal dietician tut-tutted as she saw the cracks Celestia’s bulk left in the floor.

“Princess, what is the meaning of this?”

The alicorn grabbed the dietician in her wings. “Don’t you know, Waist Line? My Spike is engaged! And that means…” The princess’s smile broadened into a vast crescent, exposing all of her carefully-polished teeth.

Ms. Line waited for Celestia to continue.

“It means wedding cake!” Her eyes bulged in glee, almost as wide as pancakes—and Celestia was known for eating very large pancakes.

“Princess, in the interests of your health…”

The alicorn scrunched her snout against Waist Line’s. “My little pony, in the interests of your not being banished to the moon, I advise you allow me this moment of happiness.” She dropped her, letting Line twist in midair to avoid falling flat on her back.

“My son is getting married!”

As she trotted through the statued hallways in parental bliss, she saw a lone Lunar Guard sprinting for her.

“Princess! Luna awoken!” he squawked. Batponies like him had never quite got the hang of regular pony speech.

Celestia smiled. “Oh, wonderful! She’ll certainly want to hear of this!” Away she bounded, letter trailing her in her magic.

“Luna! Luuuna! Letter from Spike!”

Slowly, slowly, the nocturnal princess shuffled out her door. “Eugggh.” Her eyes flitted between closed and open until she gathered the strength to fully wake up. “Celestia, need we remind you that the Princess of the Night sleeps in the day? What is the purpose of this commotion?”

“Spike’s getting married! There’ll be a wedding and cake and it’s your turn to buy the present!”

“Married.”

“He sent us an invitation. Here, look!” The aura around the letter switched colors as Celestia passed it into Luna’s magic. From the shadows of Luna’s room, another Lunar Guard brought a pair of half-moon glasses.

“Mmm.” Luna glanced over the parchment, spectacles perched on her snout. “Did you read all of this, dear sister?”

“Well, no, not entirely. Ever since he grew so large, Spike’s writing has been rather difficult to read. Honestly, I saw ‘wedding’ and stopped there. Why, is there something else?” Luna saw panic in Celestia’s eyes. “Don’t tell me they’re eloping and we won’t be able to go!”

The moon princess shook her head. “The truth is far more dramatic than that. Did you read far enough to learn precisely to whom Spike is engaged?”

“Well, who is the lucky mare? Is it someone we know?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Flurry Heart, maybe? They are about the same age… Or perhaps he’s smitten with that lady dragon, the one with the funny face?”

Luna arched an eyebrow. “Her name is Crackle, and I doubt it would be diplomatically prudent to describe her as ‘funny-faced.’”

Celestia was undeterred. “Is it a mare at all? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind! I may be five thousand years old, but you’ll find I’m quite progressive. Though it will mean they’ll need magical assistance with making those grandfoals…”

Luna’s face was expressionless.

“Oh, tell me! I need to know what sort of wedding we should be planning, and more importantly, what kind of grandchildren we’ll be having!”

“Mhmm. Well, as the only pony in this family who is not ashamed to admit that I need reading glasses, I can tell you who Spike’s so-called ‘lucky mare’ is.”

“Ember, maybe?”

“No.”

“Could it be…”

“Sister, please give me a chance to speak.”

Celestia shut her mouth and sat down. Luna took a deep breath, exhaling a long sigh. Her magic adjusted her glasses as she read out the long list of noble titles.

“Our son by adoption, Master Kenbroath Gilspotten Heathspike, Savior of the Crystal Empire, Brother of the Princess of Friendship and Protector of the Realm, is engaged to none other than Her Royal Protuberance, the Majestic and Ever-Pregnant Queen Chrysalis of the Changeling Horde.”

For a brief instant, the sun fizzled out.

Author's Note:

If you're curious, Master Kenbroath Gilspotten Heathspike is Spike's full name from G3.