Prom and Circumstance

by TheMessenger

Chapter 6

There are those in Ponyville who could still recall a time where there was only one alicorn princess, two if you were aware and counted the pink one. There was a time where mad mares from the moon didn’t try to bring about eternal night, a time where unicorns didn’t grow wings, a time before the School of Friendship and the opulent crystal structure opposite of it that served as the headmare’s home. There were those in Ponyville that could remember the large oak tree that stood in town which had housed both a modest library and a certain student of friendship with an impressive future ahead of her, its charred roots now resting in that mare’s new castle serving as a reminder of the wondrous memories made within its trunk.

It was amazing the vast changes a few years could bring.

During that time not so long ago, a younger, wingless Spike awoke one morning refreshed with a quick stretch, a broad smile, and a desire for Twilight Sparkle to partake in more adventures. This morning, the older, more aerial Spike reluctantly dragged himself out of bed with his back slumped and appendages groaning, his eyes baggy and his vision blurry, and an uncharacteristic distain toward journeys, adventures, and maps. It was amazing the vast changes the years could bring.

As he stepped into the kitchen for breakfast, Starlight greeted him with a raised eyebrow. “Didn’t get much sleep?”

Spike grunted an affirmative before grabbing a mug and the pot of coffee on the stove.

“Careful,” Starlight said, “I just made that so it’s—“

Spike down the full cup in one gulp and gagged at the sudden bitterness. Steam and the sounds of his tongue smacking against the roof of his mouth escaped his maw. “Still hot,” Starlight finished as Spike began to pour himself another cup, this time leaving room for the milk he removed from the refrigerator.

The sip he took this time was more moderated and earned another grimace. Opening a cabinet that had once been out of reach without hovering and removing a bag of sugar, he asked Starlight, “Any news from Twilight and Discord? Princess Celestia?”

“Pretty sure you’d have been the first to know,” Starlight said as she watched the dragon dump spoonful after spoonful of sugar into his cup. He took another sip, and again he frowned. A short burst of green flames spewed from his lips and licked the bottom of the mug, heating its contents until the coffee had returned to its original scalding temperature.

This time, the sip he took was granted a small grin of satisfaction that disappeared as Spike returned to Starlight. “You think they’re alright?”

“Twilight and Discord? Yeah, probably,” Starlight said. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I mean, it’s just another friendship quest.”

“A friendship quest all the way to Tartarus to talk to Tirek of all beings,” Spike muttered.

“Okay, yeah, there’s that,” Starlight conceded. “So it’s not your typical mission of spreading love and friendship, and sure maybe this is a little advanced for Discord’s first friendship quest, and okay, they’re taking a little longer—“

“It’s already been a few of days. That’s way longer than any of the other friendship quest you guys been on.”

“Well, like Twilight wrote in her letter, Discord wanted to take the scenic route,” Starlight said. “You were there when Princess Celestia explained the situation, it was pretty obvious Discord wasn’t looking forward to seeing Tirek again. Which is understandable, considering how the last time they met, Tirek convinced Discord into betraying all of you and join him in conquering Equestria before before Tirek turned on him and stole his magic and Applejack, how did Pinkie Pie describe it, dropped the most ironic echo ever uttered by a pony to a draconequus.” She paused. “Does it make me a bad pony if I kind of wished I was there to see the look on his face when that happened?”

”Kind of, yeah.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t kind of wish that.”

Spike sighed. He took a seat at the kitchen table as Starlight began to pour her own cup. “How are you not worried?” he asked. “I mean, Tirek wanting to talk to Twilight and Discord? Alone? It’s a trick, it has to be. Tirek’s got to be up to something.”

“Obviously. We all know that, but you heard the princess; Star Swirl the Bearded is still unconscious and without magic, and there haven’t been any other attacks or magic loss. Right now this is our only lead.” Starlight placed a supportive hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Look, I get that you’re worried, I am too, but right now there’s nothing we can do. The map sent them, and it hasn’t steered us wrong before. Like Princess Celestia said, we’ve got to trust our friends, and I trust Twilight and, well I trust Twilight to keep Discord out of trouble. Or at the very least try.” Starlight’s smile faltered under Spike’s stare. “Was that at least a little bit reassuring?”

“Up until the end anyways,” Spike answered.

“Well worrying about it isn’t going to help. Don’t forget, Twilight’s counting on us too. We’ve got a school to run, and that means tests to organize, theses to grade, and an end of the year gala to prepare in Twilight’s absence all while making sure the student body doesn’t panic over the slim possibility of Tirek returning.” Starlight allowed herself a little sigh. “Never thought I’d end up as headmare again.”

“Hey, we all agreed you were the most qualified,” Spike said. “And this time, we still have most of the staff. That, and with Discord not being able to ‘help,’ I’m sure this time everything’ll go smoother. Provided Tirek doesn’t end up escaping or anything like that.”

“If that happened, we could cancel the final exams and probably wouldn’t have to grade all those graduate theses. Hmm.”

“Wishing for something like that to happen definitely makes you a bad pony,” Spike said, frowning.

Starlight raised her forelegs and chuckled. “Kidding, I’m kidding,” she assured. “Mostly. It’s just, I mean, there’s a lot of words on friendship we’ve got to go through.”

“We should probably set a page limit next year,” Spike agreed. With his coffee finished, Spike removed himself from his seat. “So what’s the plan for today? If you’re busy with guidance counselor stuff, I can take care of Twilight’s class for today. I’ve got all of Twilight’s notes.”

“Actually, I was hoping if you could start organizing the theses together and sort out who grades what,” Starlight said. “I don’t think I understand the instructions Twilight left on her grading scheme entirely, but I figured you’d be able to figure it out what she wanted since you’ve worked with her longer. Don’t worry about class, I might not be the Princess of Friendship, but I know the material well enough.”

Spike shrugged. “Hey, you’re the boss, it’s your call.”

“Right. And if you’re heading out, could you give Pinkie Pie a message?” Starlight requested. “Just wanted to see if she’s heard from her party expert yet.”

“Party expert?” Spike repeated. “Who would Pinkie Pie turn to for party expertise? And why?”

“No idea about who. As for why, Pinkie’s not exactly too keen about meeting the Grand Galloping Gala organizers Twilight invited. Which I get, some of ponies from Canterlot aren’t always the easiest to work with, even when they’re not explicitly reminding you how much better they are than you, but if we want to have a fun event that still has just the right feel of a gala, we’re going to have to work with those organizers.”

“You hear from the organizers yet?” Spike asked.

Starlight shook her head and frowned. “Maybe if Twilight had been the one to write the letter, we’d get a response sooner.”

“And if they don’t respond at all?”

“Use our combined experiences of the Grand Galloping Gala with whatever the library has on the subject, and hope for the best.”

Spike took a cursory stroll through his memories of the previous galas and shuddered at the mess that had always punctuated the night. “I don’t think our cleaning staff is big enough for that.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Starlight assured. “We always do. Anyways, Pinkie thought this pony might be able to help us. Get me an update, would you?” She rolled her eyes as Spike responded with a mock salute. “With a little less sass please. I don’t have Twilight’s tolerance.”

With that, the two separated, Spike toward the castle’s exit and Starlight remaining in the castle’s kitchen to tend to her coffee, which had finally reached a manageable temperature. It didn’t take long before Spike stepped off of hard crystal and onto the softer dirt roads of Ponyville. Already a few ponies were up and out, making their way to their jobs or to grab some breakfast at one the few eateries currently open at this early hour. Those who had time to spare greeted the familiar dragon and he them; any panic over Spike’s growth in stature as a sign of another greed-induced dragon rampage had long since passed.

A few new businesses had sprouted over the years to accommodate the increased needs of the School of Friendship and its growing student body, but for the most part Ponyville looked much as it did the day Twilight and Spike first arrived, which was no small feat considering the number of times the town served as ground zero for some disaster. The majority of buildings still had that rustic style, with a uniform yellow roof covering two or three stories at most and a visible wooden framework, and those that didn’t were usually fashioned, and had been for years, in a way to advertise their wares and services, like the massive gingerbread house Spike was heading towards and the elaborate carousel with decorated dancing pony mannequins he was passing by.

As always, the beat of Spike’s heart skipped as he passed the home and business of Rarity, and as he reminded himself of the approaching night they had planned, his heart hammered against his chest excitedly. Having dinner in a fancy restaurant, as fancy as you could get in a town like Ponyville anyways, as more than friends. Going to a show as more than friends. And after that, after that, just imagining the best possible outcome left Spike in a different world, one full of absolute giddiness and warm feelings that left him dancing in the air as his wings subconsciously began to carry him off the ground. As long as every went as they had planned, as long as everything was perfect, as long as he didn’t—

“—mess this up.”

Spike found himself crashing back down to earth and reality. He quickly picked himself up and looked to the source of his fantasy’s interruption. He discovered, to his surprise, that he wasn’t the only dragon around Carousel Boutique, though Spike’s lack of awareness couldn’t be entirely attributed to him being lost in daydream. For some odd reason, Smolder had chosen to obscure herself in one of the surrounding bushes. Dirt clung to her scales, especially those covering her claws, one grasping a small bag and the other gripped around what may have been a scroll. She seemed to be muttering to herself, and while what Spike could hear of her soliloquy was limited and lacked any semblance of context, he could detect an apparent frustration, an observation further supported by Smolder’s erratic motions toward the boutique’s entrance and back to the bush.

Many would have seen a potentially crazed fire hazard and turned to run the opposite direction, perhaps contacting the local authorities if they felt like being a good citizen that day. Spike saw a friend in need, and while he did not know if he could fulfill that need or even what that need was, he started toward Smolder, ready to assist however he could.

Though he made no attempt to mask his approach, Smolder failed to perceive Spike until he was only a few steps away. She froze stiff and dropped what she had been holding. Gleaming stones scattered from the sack and onto the lawn. The sight of gemstones awoke Spike’s stomach, driving it to growl and remind him that the coffee he had taken in was a poor substitute for actual breakfast, but he pushed aside any gluttonous thoughts as he gathered the fallen gems and returned them to the bag, then to Smolder. Smolder barely registered Spike or the offered bag, opting instead to stare blankly at him.

“So, early gem hunt?” Spike said, hoping to spark a conversation or any reaction really. Was this another dragon thing, Spike wondered, some defensive measure in place with a trigger he had unwittingly set off? Even after all this time, his ignorance toward all things dragonish still showed.

“What?” Smolder blinked and her eyes widened at the sack in Spike’s claws like she had noticed it just now. “Oh, right. Gem hunt.” She grabbed the bag. “Right, you know, for breakfast. The cafeteria at school’s great and all, but it’s not exactly what you’d call dragonish.”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to get gems on the menu for a while now,” Spike said, “but according to Twilight, we don’t have the budget.”

“Can’t you just pick them out of the ground?”

“We could, but then we have to consider labor costs for excavation, which means dealing with contractors, and then there’s making sure all the gems prepared aren’t violating any food regulations and pass health inspections that don’t exist because gems aren’t recognized as a food by the board of health inspection, which means having to petition a new category or creating a separate bureau and don’t get me started on retraining the cafeteria staff on proper handling of supplies and how to avoid cross-contamination.”

Smolder blinked. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. But that’s the education sector for you.” Spike shook his head. He gestured to the bag. “Is that going to be enough?”

“I’m, I’m not that hungry,” Smolder answered. “I just, uh, wanted a taste. Er, I mean, it’s for, you know, seasoning. To go on pancakes or whatever’s for breakfast today.”

“Oh. I figured you came here to see Rarity for her gem locating spell to help your hunt. Guess that wasn’t it.” Smolder’s wordless curse as her forehead met her palm went unnoticed as Spike bent down to pick up the dropped scroll, which turned out to be a rolled up magazine. A fashion magazine at that, based on the duo of posing mares on the cover. Each mare wore a gown, differing in style and color that complemented the wearer’s own color and build, with a larger backless dress for the pegasus, giving her wings plenty of room to flaunt, and a long flowing train made of semitransparent material for the earth pony that accentuated her shapely hind legs.

Smolder snatches the magazine out of Spike’s claws and clutched it behind her back. Her breathing had accelerated, Spike noted, and her face had become flushed. “What was—“ he began.

“It’s nothing!”

“It kind of looked like—“

“It’s not! Not mine. It’s not mine I mean. I’m just holding it for, for a friend.”

“You took it with you while gem hunting?” Spike asked, raising a brow. “And isn’t that from the library? Yeah, Twilight might not care for magazines, but she keeps a pretty detailed catalogue of all our subscriptions, and I think I recognize that one.”

“Well I, wanted to ask Professor Rarity about it. Just in case anything related to fashion was on the final exam.“

“That’s what office hours are for.”

“Yeah, I know, but I was in the neighborhood, so eh?” Smolder shrugged. “Come on, you’re not seriously getting on my case for trying to be a good student, are you?”

“I, no! No, of course not!” Spike exclaimed. Now he was off guard and on the defensive. “Look, it’s just, Rarity, all the professors, they’ve got lives outside of school, and I’m not saying those are more important than your friendship education, just maybe something to consider before—“

The door to the boutique swung open, and both dragons turned to find a familiar yet not completely expected white unicorn at the threshold. The young mare stared for a moment, then grinned knowingly at Spike. “Good morning, Spike,” she greeted.

“Hey, good morning Sweetie Belle,” Spike said in return. “Guess we were being pretty loud. We didn’t bother you, did we?

“Bother? No, no bother.” Sweetie Belle’s grin grew wider, her eyes narrowing. “I mean, you might have bothered Rarity, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh. Sorry.” As he spoke, Rarity appeared behind the younger unicorn, looking tired and very annoyed. “Sorry Rarity.”

“Sorry?” Rarity repeated, annoyance and exhaustion making room for puzzlement. “Whatever for?”

“For being too loud? Sweetie Belle said you were, uh, Sweetie Belle? Is there something wrong with your eye?”

“My eye?” Sweetie Belle giggled. “Nope. Nothing wrong with mine.”

“You sure? You keep winking.”

“Nope. Nothing wrong with my eye,” Sweetie Belle assured. “But I think you might have caught my sister’s, if you know—“

“That’s it,” Rarity growled. “Out! Go!” she exclaimed, shooing the younger unicorn away. With a squeal, Sweetie Belle pranced away, making sure to turn and expose her tongue once out of swatting range.

“Good luck on your date!” she yelled before running off, her laughter lingering behind for a few short moments before following after her.

Rarity groaned as she rested her head against the center of her hoof. “I remember a time when I wished my little sister was still a little filly who loved puppet shows and dress up. Now, I keep wondering why she can’t act her age.”

“So I’m guessing Sweetie Belle just found out,” Spike said, looking over his shoulder in the direction Sweetie Belle had skipped off in. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“As long as she doesn’t say anything to Mother and Father that could be misconstrued in any way, shape, or form,” Rarity explained. “Otherwise, I’m afraid you may experience a lengthy and awkward questioning period by two very well-meaning but somewhat overbearing ponies in the near future.”

“Oh. Any advice?”

“Have a twenty year plan at the ready, and brush up on all sports trivia within the last fifty years.” Rarity sighed and shook her head. “But never mind that,” she said, smiling at the dragon standing in front of her. “Was there something you needed?”

“Actually, Smolder here has a question for you.” Spike gestured toward the bush to the side that had suddenly grown an orange tail, scales, a pair of leathery wings, and a snout; the bush, it turned out, was a poor hiding spot for a dragon of Smolder’s size and color.

“I see. Smolder, dear, would you care to join us out here in the opening?” As the dragon reluctantly removed herself from the foliage, Rarity leaned toward Spike and whispered, “This wouldn’t happen to be a sort of dragon ritual, would it?”

“What, hiding in a bush?” Spike whispered back. “I don’t think so. I mean, yeah, I guess I do that too sometimes, but it’s more of something I picked up from Twilight really.”

“Ah.” Rarity returned her attention to the other dragon who occupied herself with shaking off the clinging twigs and leaves that had followed out of the bush. “Now, this question, would it happen to be the reason why you spend so much time outside my door during office hours only to run off before I can invite you in?”

“There were others around,” Smolder mumbled, kicking at the dirt. “It’s kind of a personal question.”

“A personal question?” Rarity repeated. “I’m afraid I’m not entire certain I’ll be much help. That‘s more in the guidance counselor’s area of expertise, after all. Have you seen Starlight?”

“It’s not, I don’t think, this isn’t something she can, never mind.” Smolder’s grip around the magazine tightened. “Forget it, it’s not important. Sorry to bother you.”

“Hm. Well, while you’re here, would you like to come in?” Rarity stepped to the side and gestured toward the boutique’s interior. “There are, ah, a few things we must discuss.”

“Um, okay? Am I in trouble?” Smolder questioned.

“I’d rather we’d discuss this matter privately,” Rarity said. Again, she gestured Smolder forward. “Come, come.”

Spike and Smolder shared a look then a shrug and moved forward. Smolder entered unhindered, but Spike found his path blocked by a white hoof and an apologetic smile. “I’m very sorry, Spike dearest, but this really has to be just between Smolder and I. Please understand.”

“I guess,” Spike replied. His hesitation had last for only a couple of seconds, but they were a couple of seconds densely concentrated with confusion and unease with a small bit of hurt that was quickly replaced with more confusion once Spike recognized it as irrational given that Rarity’s rejection was obviously not personal. So instead he focused on the cause of confusion, namely the oddity that was Rarity’s request. Did his presence or absence really matter? After all, as assistant to the headmare, he had access to the student records, and if Smolder was having issues, he’d be able to determine what they were after a little bit of digging. If anything, a part of him argued, it was his responsibility, as the headmare’s most available proxy, to find out what was going on.

But, the rest of Spike argued back, as her friend, he should and could trust Rarity in her decision. “Okay,” he said, this time with more conviction. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you two to it. See you later?”

“Of course,” Rarity said. She leaned forward and left a quick peak on his cheek. “Thank you darling.”

She watched and waited for Spike to flutter off before closing the door and letting her composure collapse. She crumbled to the floor as her knees gave way and fanned herself furiously as her face grew flushed. Such displays of affection had been, well, Rarity wouldn’t say they were common, but they had always been present. A little kiss on the cheek, a hug, all completely platonic and more generously given when Spike was younger. Of course now, with their planned night so close in sight and their relationship becoming something more, those little gestures carried far more weight and meaning than before. And if things ended poorly...

Rarity took a deep breath and stood up. The blush faded. She would have to adapt, place more thought and care into each shared touch in the future, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on the subject, not when her attention was required elsewhere. Rarity made her way through her shop and found her guest not far from the entrance, examining the mannequins and the dresses they advertised. The sight of Smolder’s rather intense stare at her wares left Rarity with a sense of pride and accomplishment that she always felt whenever she introduced her creations to a customer. The piece that Smolder had been enraptured by was an elaborate dress with a light yellow body that ended in a raised train with a silk trimming layered over it. A large pink ribbon extended from the front and wrapped itself into a bow around the back, and the entire ensemble was completed with a large white hat with a thin, silk veil.

“Like it?” Rarity asked, sending Smolder into a startled leap. “Admittedly, it is a bit out of place in Ponyville, more suited for the garden parties of Canterlot really.”

“Oh,” Smolder said slowly. “Sure, I guess.” She followed Rarity further inside and watched as the store transitioned into more of a domicile, messier and with more framed pictures of friends and family than stiff mannequins. They entered the kitchen, and Rarity gestured toward the table in the center.

“Tea?” Rarity offered, holding a pot already prepared.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Smolder added, having to remind herself to mind those tricky pony manners. She accepted the tiny cup Rarity set before her and forced herself to wait for the unicorn to finish filling her own cup. “So, what do we need to talk about?”

“I was hoping you would tell me,” Rarity said, smiling. “Now that it’s just the two of us, would you please share this private matter that only I can help you with?”

A series of emotions danced across Smolder’s face, first surprise, then relief and thankfulness that was swiftly followed by discomfort and reluctance. Slowly, she flattened the magazine, set it on the table, and pointed at the mares on the cover. “Um, so, I was wondering if, if you could...”

The rest of Smolder’s request tapered off. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Rarity asked. She watched as Smolder took in a deep breath. Instead of relaxing, however, the dragon’s entire body grew stiffer. Her diaphragm, or whatever dragons called that area of their anatomy, expanded as air continued to be vacuumed through Smolder’s mouth and throat and into her lungs. Instinctively, Rarity leaned back and braced herself against the table.

“I need a dress from prom!” Smolder’s roar seemed to shake the whole building. Sparks flew from her mouth, leaving small scorch marks on the table cover that their little tea cups had evacuated, carried by the force of Smolder’s exclamation. “Oh, er, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Rarity assured, hoping that Smolder wouldn’t notice how weak her attempt at smiling was. She didn’t need a mirror to know that all her morning mane preparations had just been wasted. “So, a dress for prom? Is that correct?”

Smolder nodded. “It’s just, lately there’s always mares in the hall talking about the prom and the dresses they plan to wear and stuff. I’m not jealous of them or anything,” she quickly added. “I just, figured the prom might be a nice opportunity to, you know, wear something, cute.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Smolder bowed her head, hoping to hide her burning blush. “And I know you’re a famous dressmaker and everything so I was hoping you could make something for me. I brought gems to pay with.” She placed the little bag onto the table. “If it’s not enough, I can find more.”

Rarity opened the bag and took a quick appraisal of its contents. Most of the gems were cracked or scratched in places, some even in pieces. She had always assumed that all dragons were natural excavators, considering their preferred diet, but it was apparent from this collection that not all dragons had Spike’s delicate, careful touch. She looked back to Smolder and her dirty claws folded in front of her, her hopeful stare, her tail anxiously waving in the air. “Well, everything does appear in order,” Rarity said at last, to which Smolder released a sigh of relief and threw up a fist. “Full disclosure, however, I’ve never tried making a dress for a dragon, so I will need your help in some areas.”

“Sure, whatever you need.”

“Nothing that will interfere with your studies, of course. Just a few measurements here and there, and in the absence of any dragon mannequins I’ll need you to model. Oh, and of course, I will need some input on the dress idea. Ooh, this is going to be so much fun.” Rarity giggled and clapped her hooves together

“Fun?” Smolder said.

“But of course. A new body type, a new dress design, imagine the possibilities! Just, ah.” Some of Rarity’s enthusiasm died as she bit her lip. “How familiar are you with the lesson on how when somepony offers to do you a favor, like making you a beautiful dress, you shouldn't be overly critical of something generously given to you?”