• Published 26th Feb 2020
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Our Little Brother, Spike - Hope Caster



Finding a whelp cold and alone after hatching season, Amber Ironscale brings the poor thing back to her cave and adopts him, giving him the name Heathspike, Spike for short. Her son, Garble, vows to be the best big brother he can be, no matter what.

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Chapter 11: Gathering

As an older sibling, it was Garble’s job, nay, his duty to be there when his siblings needed him. On the first day of his punishment, Spike needed him more than ever. The two drakes stood on the precipice of a large pit, the light of the morning sun beating the crags and cliffs of the Dragon Lands, and warming any dragon that was lazing about outside. Yet to Spike and Garble, it was the coldest day of their lives.

The sun cruelly illuminated the inside of the pit, revealing to them countless dragons of various ages, with many of the younger dragons sporting gaudy trinkets as their parents sat watching from afar. Before them was a gathering, the Central Gathering, where boys went to either die a slow and painful death, or worse, find a girlfriend. It was named for its location in the heart of the Dragon Lands, and for the number of dragons that showed up.

Their mother seemed to be making sure Spike learned his lesson after his and Smolder’s fight the other day. Smolder was unfortunately absent. She had to assist their grandmother, Topaz, with her medical duties.

“Gar-Gar,” Spike said, looking up at his brother, “what’s gonna happen when we go down?”

Garble put a claw on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, as his uncle said he’d done for his father when they were little. “Nothing, because we’re Ironscales. We can face anything and come out on top. This is just another fight we need to win.”

“Oh, for Sardior’s sake, it’s a gathering, not a gauntlet,” Their mother said, her tail pushing them an inch down the winding path. Spike and Garble tried to hold their ground, but their mother, being about 100 times their size, easily overpowered them without the slightest bit of effort. “Nothing bad is going to happen, to either of you. You both will mingle, compliment any girls you might meet, and you will be on your best behavior.” She could still feel them fighting her. “I seem to need to remind you, Spike, that you’re grounded and this is going to be part of your punishment. Fighting me will not make it go away. Understand?” Spike groaned through a closed mouth and finally gave in, slowly descending into the pit on his own. Seeing that Garble was hesitant, she added, “And he can either do this alone, or have his brother with him. Which will it be?”

Spike needed to feel like he wasn’t alone. It was the only way he’d survive. Taking a deep breath, Garble followed Spike.

Satisfied, Amber directed her sons to an unoccupied spot, big enough to accommodate her amidst a group of mothers with their little whelps, ranging from three to five, all of them girls. Amber gave Spike a small push towards the group, only for him to freeze up when their gazes fell on him.

“Do I have to talk to them?” he asked with a whimper.

“Yes. It’s good for whelps to chat with each other, Spike. Not fight, chat,” Amber said. “This is just so whelps can make a friend.” A misleading statement, but a well-meaning one. While gatherings mostly existed for the benefit of daughters, sons could also profit. Parents usually tried to have their whelps converse with each other in hopes that they make connections early, making the mate seeking process easier down the line. Who better to mate with then someone you’ve known for most of your life?

Spike took just a single step forward, and was instantly swarmed. “Um, my name is Heathspike Ironscale and-”

“You’re hurt!” One of the whelps said, interrupting Spike.

“Yeah, I was-”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Another asked.

“I don’t-”

“Is it permanent?”

“No-”

“Can you still get gems?”

“I don’t-”

“What’s your ability?”

“I-”

“How many gems do you get in a day?”

“Uh-”

“How many eggs do you want, because I want four!”

“What!?”

“Why are you asking him about how many eggs he wants? He’s mine!” A young girl sneered.

“But I saw him first, he’s my mate!” Another shouted.

“No, he’s mine!”

Spike could only watch as a brawl broke out; a very adorable, poorly choreographed, and mewling brawl. Hides were nipped, cheeks were weakly slapped, and whelps tripped, scrapping their knees, elbows, and minimal jewelry. All Spike was able to do was watch. He was missing a fight. He had to try and join in. “Mama, I know I’m not supposed to fight but-” Laughter. His little voice was drowned out by a loud collection of laughter coming from his mother and her friends.

“Remember when we were like that?” A mother asked.

“Oh, I know! It’s embarrassing looking back on it.”

“Who was it we fought over at that age?”

“Gostir, and we continued fighting over him until we were ten!” A dragoness chuckled, rolling her eyes. “If any of us had known Torch was going to win the Gauntlet, most of us would have gone for him.”

“I’d have gone for Flare all the sooner if I could do it over,” Amber said. “The months I wasted pining after Gostir.” She shook her head, but was smiling. “Did you know he wanted to have a cave in Equestria?”

“Don’t remind me about wasted time. I wasted months of my life pining over your mate’s brother,” a very bitter dragoness said. “You could have warned me about the snoring.”

For mothers, young girls fighting over a boy was nothing strange. In fact, they’d all done it at one point or another. What was funny to them was that their daughters didn’t want a partner in life when they saw Spike, they wanted a toy to play with. They were not being malicious, this was just a chance to play pretend and be like their mothers. Their mothers had a mate, so they needed one to be like them. Of course, no dragon wanted to share, so like most things in the Dragon Lands the claim to Spike would be won in a fight. In a few years, when they became teenagers, they would adorn themselves in trinkets, sit atop makeshift hoards, and watch as boys fought for their attention. Not that the fights mattered all that much. Most older girls already made up their minds about who they were going to date when attending a gathering. Being dragons, though, they did enjoy a good fight.

Spike noticed how distracted his mother was, and thought that he could sneak off. He took a single step to his left and-

“Don’t you dare move from that spot,” he heard, the voice very stern. Amber was looking down at him. “You are talking to whoever comes out on top of-” She motioned to the brawl, “-that, are we clear?” Spike nodded. “Good. And Garble?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“You’re a bit too old for this group, why don’t you go play with someone your age?” She pointed towards a group of whelps westward.

“But-”

“If you’re here, you’re mingling. Now.”

Garble knew that there was no use in arguing. Bidding Spike a sad good-bye and a sincere good luck, he struck out on his own, ready to face almost anything. This did not include a small blue, extremely unhappy whelp.


Ember wanted to throw a tantrum. She wanted her mother to know just how much she hated being at the Central Gathering. Fortunately, she was smart enough to know that doing so would only extend her punishment from a few days to an entire month, all depending on how her mother was feeling. She sat before the deep blue dragon, with the deepest red eyes, and inflated her cheeks. It let her mother know she was unhappy, but that she was being a good sport about it.

What she hated most was the jewelry. Ember, against her will, was adorned in two meticulously designed golden bracers, with red gemstones inserted into each, an anklet chain on her right leg, decorated with similar gems. On her head was a circlet with a large ruby centered on her forehead, and on each horn was a single golden ring, with four rubies inserted in each. Around her neck was a gold chain with a ruby pendent. Being the Princess meant that she was forced to wear rubies, a symbol of her family’s status.

“I know this isn’t your favorite activity, but you’re handling it well, Ember,” her mother said. “If it’s any consolation, you look very pretty. Dare I say, prettier than my friend’s daughter if she were here.” Ember’s expression did not change. “How about this, you talk to someone, anyone, by the end of the day and I’ll consider taking you home.” Just then she saw Garble wondering about with no clear destination in mind. “Do you remember that drake you attacked?”

Ember’s face twisted, and Blaze could have sworn she saw steam rising out of her head. “Yeah, I do,” she grumbled.

“Good, you can apologize to him then.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “He called me a scaredy drake once!”

“Ember, I was there. He didn’t.”

“Well, he thought it!”

“Ember, when I say this, know I say it out of love. Too. Bad. You’re apologizing. End of story.”


Garble grumbled obscenities that would have gotten him and his father into trouble if his mother ever heard them. His father had told him that gatherings were mainly to flirt with girls, but they were also one of the best places to fight and compete with other dragons. Flare had left out the part that the fights were used to impress a possible mate. Unfortunately, there was not a single drake his age as far as the eye could see. Everyone was either too old for him to fight, or too small for it to be fair.

He felt someone tug on his tail, and thought that his luck had turned. A challenge, it had to be! Garble quickly pivoted, getting down on all fours and growling, only to stop when he got a look at his opponent. Before him stood a girl, about two years older than his sister, fluttering her eye lashes. Her name was Prominence, a tall light purple dragon. Like Fume, she had hair, but hers was a darker shade of her scales. She wore three trinkets, two bracers and gilded comb in her hair, all silver and, studded with a mixture of amethyst and sapphires. She was part of Garble’s group, but they had never actually talked before.

“Hi, Garble,” She said, taking a step forward.

“Hi?” She took another step closer, and Garble instantly took a step back.

“It’s nice to see you. Are you looking for someone?” Another, long step forward, this time entering his personal space.

“No. Not really.” She took a third step forward, pressing her chest against his, smiling while meeting his gaze with half-lid eyes. Garble took a sudden step back, and Prominence fell forward on her stomach. “Prominence, are you okay?”

Garble’s confusion was well warranted. He never drew the attention of girls before. On a good day, he might call a girl dumb, and they’d call him gross. Little did he realize that the change in attitude was because of his recent victory over Arrow Firefang. Mature dragons looked for a mate with good parental instincts, a nice personality, maturity, and a large hoard, but young dragons only cared about one attribute: Strength. The stronger the dragon, the more desirable. After defeating Arrow, Garble was now considered the strongest dragon there was.

A giggle erupted the moment Garble asked his question, and a shiver crawled up his spine the moment an absurdly long tail brushed against his arm.

“Isn’t it obvious Garble? Prominence is embarrassing herself.” A new dragon, Ballista Axebeak, was circling him. She had long curved horns growing upwards out the top of her head, angled upward towards the back of her and the tip of her snout was shaped like an axe head. She was pink, and had a long, powerful tail that she often used as a seat. She wore little, only a necklace with an emerald pendant hanging from the end. She leaned into Prominence and whispered. “I don’t think he’s interested in you. I’m sure Garble wants someone more refined.” Ballista had heard her cousin use the word earlier in the week. She added it to her mental dictionary, waiting to use it to degrade someone while lifting herself up.

“Are you guys okay?” Garble asked. Maybe they ate something bad this morning.

“No, because they’re delusional if they think you’re interested in them!” A third dragon said, appearing to the right of Garble. “It's understandable that you're interested in someone else. Those two couldn’t keep an egg safe if they had it stored in a vault.” She gave her competitors a smirk before nuzzling Garble’s arm. Her name was Scales Sunwing. She was a very pale pink, countering Ballista’s deep pink hide, and had lovely teal eyes. She wore several anklets, thin bracelets, a necklace, and even had earrings on, all studded with at least one ruby. Her grandfather was the Dragon Lord before Torch, so she was the dragon equivalent of nobility. “Don’t you two think that a drake as strong as him deserves someone elegant, beautiful, and strong? Someone like me, right Garble?”

Garble remained silent. Though young, he knew that there was no safe answer to that question.

Prominence began to growl loudly. “How about you both back off. I got to him first!”

Ballista lifted her tail and slammed it against the floor, sending a loud crash echoing through the pit. If she hadn’t roared like a kitten, it would have been the most threatening display Garble had ever seen. “It doesn’t matter if you saw him first, he’s obviously interested in me!”

“You couldn’t get a hungry roc interested in you!” Scales remarked. “He obviously wants someone that doesn’t sit on a weird tail. Besides, I’m the prettiest and a noble.” She lifted her head up high and smiled. “If he’s interested in anyone, it’s me.”

“Weird tail?! I’ll sit on you, brat!” Ballista shouted before pouncing on Scales. Prominence followed not a moment after. Ballista’s tails slammed into Prominence, sending the poor girl flying a few feet before Scales pounced on her back and delivered a bite to her upper shoulder. Prominence hissed in pain before throwing herself backwards, slamming Scales on the cold hard earth. Seeing they were distracted, Garble slowly backed away. Unfortunately, it was not the only brawl his presence caused. It happened twice more.

After walking from the third brawl, Garble grumbled to himself as he sat down behind a rock and snorted a plume of smoke that would have done credit to a train. As if being stuck at the Central Gathering wasn’t enough, there were no drakes his age to play with and all the girls thought that he was interested in them and fighting each other. Was there anything else that could make the day worse? Just then a bracer flew and hit the side of his head, not hard enough to cause him pain, but enough to garner his attention.

To his left was Ember Brightcrest, putting back on her bracer, her cheeks puffed, and an intense glare on her face.

“What do you want?” He asked, recognizing her from the other day.

“To apologize,” she grumbled. “I’m sorry I beat you up.”

There was nothing more offensive to Garble than the insane notion that anyone, other than Spike or Smolder, had ever beaten him. “You didn’t. You tackled me and then ran away! If anything, you gave up.”

“Shut up!” Ember snapped. “I knocked you to the ground, punched you, and you didn’t get back up to fight, so I won!”

“If I’d wanted to, I could have taken you on! The only reason I didn’t was because I just beat Arrow.”

Ember simply rolled her eyes. She could already see that arguing was going to be pointless. He was like her dad, unwilling to admit when she won a fight. “Look, I’m apologizing for beating you, so accept my apology!”

“No! You didn’t beat me, you ran away!”

“Because you weren’t getting back up! Why are you so dumb?” Why was she even arguing? She apologized, what more did she need to do? She wasn’t going to press the issue if he was going to ignore reality. With a huff, she ended the conversation and marched back to her mother. “I talked to someone; can we go now?”

“Was talking to someone just you apologizing to that drake? And by apologize, I mean yell at.”

“Maybe,” realizing that she’d been apologizing to Garble rather loudly.

“Then no. When I say talk, I mean play nice with someone. Anyone at this point. Just a short conversation.”

Ember let out an annoyed groan before turning back. Maybe Prominence would want to talk about which gems were best, or perhaps Ballista and her could talk about how stupid drakes were. Well, once they pealed themselves off the floor. They, along with several other whelps lay on the ground defeated. Of course, she missed a fight. The Central Gathering was already the most miserable place on Earth, so what else was to be expected?

Ember suddenly heard stones clatter behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she peered back, but saw no dragon. She heard a voice trying to whisper, but she still could not see a dragon. While she waited for Prominence or Ballista to recover, perhaps she could beat whoever was following her into the ground.

She hurried up, and more stones clattered as her stalker tried to keep pace with her.

What annoyed her was that her stalker wasn’t even doing a very good job stalking her. She was going to enjoy teaching them a quick lesson. Ember subtly undid the latch of her anklet and kicked it off. “Oh no!” Her cry and gasp were beyond forced, but her stalker didn’t seem to notice. Ember skipped forward and made as big a show as she could when picking up her anklet. Her stalker took the bait. Scales leapt out at her, and Ember quickly stepped out of the way.

Scales landed on her stomach, and Ember tackled her. She quickly grabbed Scales’ arm and bent it behind her back while her free hand held her body down. A victory, but not one that meant anything. Scales had a black eye and slight bruising on her arms and body. “You better have a good reason for attacking me!” Ember snapped. She jerked Scales’ arm up, eliciting a cry of pain.

“Ow, ow, ow! I do, I do, just stop!” She whined. Ember relaxed, but still kept a firm grip on her wrist. “I saw you talking with Garble and I thought you were trying to get between us. I beat everyone else fair and square; he’s supposed to be mine! You don’t get to claim him just because you’re the Princess!”

Scales was just about the only whelp that knew Ember was the Princess. In general, whelps knew that Torch had a daughter, they just never bothered to find out who she was, nor did they bother asking Ember her clan name. Why would they? The important dragon was Torch, not the whelp he happened to father.

As Scales wriggled in Ember’s grip, a thought occurred. Ember had just beaten her, so fast and so easy, it was bordering on embarrassing. With how Dragons usually handled things, that meant that Garble was hers. “Please don’t date him.” She said, ceasing her pointless struggles

“Why would I care about a boulderhead like him?” Ember asked.

“Because he’s the strongest drake there is!” Scales cried. “He beat Arrow. No one’s ever beaten Arrow!”

A light appeared above Ember’s head, about as bright as the sun. Scales was right, Garble was the first dragon to ever beat Arrow, and she was the first dragon to beat Garble. Ember released her arm and looked back at the drake. “So, if he beat Arrow, and I beat him, that means I’m the strongest,” she said to herself. A smile began to form, only for it to fade the moment Scales began laughing.

“You, the strongest? You couldn’t even beat Clump!”

“I beat you!” Ember said, tempted to start reapplying pressure on her arm.

“And?”

“And I was fighting four at the same time!”

“You knocked them down once, and then Clump got back up and beat you without breaking a sweat!” She gave the blue dragon a smirk. “And in case you forgot, you were the one that needed someone to come and help. It’s like you were a helpless little princess in those pony stories!”

“I beat him up after he beat Arrow!”

“You probably ran when you realized how stupid attacking him was!”

Ember face turned a deep, murderous red, but kept herself from lashing out. Scales wasn’t worth it; everyone knew she could beat Scales. She needed to go after the bigger fish. If Garble was considered the strongest, then all she needed to do was beat him, publicly this time. If she could do that, then everyone else would have to admit that she wasn’t weak. Ember got off Scales. “I’m going to beat up your boyfriend.”

“Good luck!” Scales said in an overly mocking tone. She knew how this was going to turn out, and it made her smile. Garble was going to demolish her.

Ember got on all fours, and slowly crept towards Garble. Unlike Scales, she didn’t make a single sound. Not even her jewelry jingled. He never saw her coming until after she tackled him.


Nuzzles. There was nothing Spike hated more than nuzzles, except when it came from his mother, sister, or grandmothers. They could nuzzle him all they wanted, but they were family. It was when other girls nuzzled him that he hated them. It felt like. Like. He didn’t exactly know how it felt, in fact it felt like another nuzzle that his sister would give him. However, his face was hot and he assumed that it was a bad omen. In truth Spike was blushing.

The winner of the brawl, who had claimed Spike for the afternoon, was an adorable green dragon named Jade Spiketail. She was a brilliant light green, had two cream-colored horns, and at the end of her tail, four small spikes grew, two on each side. The rest of the whelps could only sulk back to their spots, and be adored by passing dragons as they were showered with complements, before growing bored and playing Hide and Seek, Tag, or Raid the Nest, where two groups of dragons tried to steal egg shaped rocks from one another and bring them back to their nests. Once all the eggs from one side had been stolen, the game was over.

Spike had done everything to try and free himself from Jade's embrace. He tried to pull himself free, but her grip was too tight. He explained, loudly, that he was adopted and that he had no idea what his ability was, but she didn’t care. He told her that he was slashed fighting an older dragon, but she was impressed he tried fighting an older dragon. So long as she had Spike and Ashton, she was happy. Jade brought along a smooth oval shaped rock named Ashton. It was her and Spike's egg, and they were a happy family now. Spike did not have a choice in the matter.

“Heathspike, how much do you love me and Ashton?” Jade asked, eliciting several soft laughs from the surrounding mothers.

They knew Spike was not having fun, but Jade was so naïve that she made the entire affair innocent and cute. After today, Jade’s mother would have a short talk with her daughter about a dragon’s ability to say no to her advances, and personal boundaries. For now, Spike was as red as his brother, and Jade was showing him and her egg nothing but unfettered affection. She would sit back and enjoy the show while she could.

Unfortunately, the show was interrupted when Garble let out strident cry.

‘Gar-Gar,’ Spike thought. Finding an untouched pool of strength deep within himself, he easily managed to tear himself from Jade and scurry towards the origin of the sound. However, two talons descended and Spike was easily lifted up into the air.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Amber asked, already knowing where her son was dashing off to. “It’s very rude to just leave such a nice girl behind, especially when she's watching your egg!”

“But Garble’s in trouble!” Spike desperately explained. “He might need my help!”

“You are not helping him, even if he was in trouble. You are still hurt.”

“But mama-!”

“No buts, Heathspike.” She put Spike back next to Jade, and the young girl once again wrapped his arm in a hug. “Besides, your brother is doing fine, he’s-” Amber’s eyes went wide the moment she saw who her son was fighting. There would never be a time she felt as embarrassed as she did now. “-going to be lucky to see the sun in a year.” Her brute of a son was fighting with Princess Ember herself, at the Central Gathering of all places. She lowered her head and muttered to herself as she watched the fight go on.

If she had gotten a better look, however, she would have noticed that Garble was dodging more than he as fighting. He’d kicked Ember off of him after the initial tackle, but after that, he was on the defensive. Ember’s hits were precise for her age, but most experienced fighters could tell that she was basically flailing, and slowly tiring herself out. For Ember, Garble’s refusal to fight infuriated her to no end. Did he know that she was the Princess? It would explain why he was only dodging. After all, if he hit her father's poor little princess, Torch would rain hellfire down on him.

“Stop dodging and fight me like a dragon!” Ember demanded.

Garble clenched his teeth in annoyance. What she wanted was a problem. It was not because he knew she was Torch’s daughter, he didn’t. In truth, Garble was starting to have trouble fighting smaller dragons ever since he’d taken Spike and Smolder to his quarry weeks ago. He had trouble justifying hitting anyone significantly weaker than him after declaring Spike and Smolder off limits to his friends, doubly so after calling them cowards for fighting Ember. If challenged by a small dragon, he usually just intimidated them into backing down. He tried to take a gem once or twice, but even that caused his stomach to knot. Why did he need to see Charcoal trying to steal Spike’s gem?

If Ember was challenging him, all he could do was make her back down. Garble caught Ember’s next punch, and threw her arm back at her, making her stumble before falling to the ground. Knitting his brows and squinting his eyes, Garble glared at the little princess, baring his fangs and breathing out an intense burst of flame. He began to growl as he took a single, powerful stomp forward. “You really need to think about what you’re asking,” he snarled. “I’ve beat Clump, Fume, Fizzle, Charcoal, and Spear so many times, I can’t count them all. I’ve beaten Arrow Firefang, the biggest drake there is. Do you really want to fight someone like me?”

His eyes seemed to glow a menacing yellow that would have made a weaker dragon quiver in fear, but Ember returned the glare just as intensely. She stood, walked up until their chests were touching and said, “I beat you once, I’m going to do it again.”

They kept their eyes locked with one another until Garble finally blinked. “A three count.”

“What?”

“We fight until someone is pinned for a three count,” Garble mumbled. He couldn’t back down, but he did not want to have the rep of being the drake that punched a girl in the face at the Central Gathering. The three count was the only option he had.

Ember just rolled her eyes. And she was the coward? If anything, this moron seemed like he would do anything except fight. All the easier to beat him. “Fine, but when I beat you, you have to accept my apology.”

“Like you’ll win.”

“I’ll keep count!” A very high pitched, yet sweet voice cried. They both turned to see Scales, watching them.

“Fine,” They both said.

“Before you start,” Scales slithered around Garble and flashed a coy smile. “Garble, promise that you’ll win for me.” Scales said, once again invading Garble’s personal space. She put her chin in her claws and fluttered her eyelashes.

“No,” He said without missing a beat.

With puffed cheeks and humph, she separated the two and backed up to a safe distance. “On three! One, two, three!”

Before Garble knew it, Ember was dashing towards him. He didn’t know what to expect, so he crouched low, readying himself for impact. However, Ember stopped running, and began sliding on the ground. Her body began turning, and with a loud grunt of effort, she used her tail to fling up a cloud of dirt. Garble’s eyes clenched shut just in time and he leapt back, avoiding a strike through luck. Without the use of his eyes, though, he was hit with a follow up, square in the jaw. It was a good, solid punch, but it lacked the force that Arrow or Clump had. His instincts demanded that he strike back, but he managed to suppress them. He knew how strong he was; he could beat her without hitting her. Garble opened his eyes just in time to dodge another one of Ember’s punches. He dodged another, and another, and finally caught the third. He pushed forward and grabbed her free wrist, tackling her to the ground. Garble forcefully crossed her arms across her chest and held her down as she struggled.

Ember did her best to break free from his grasp, but she lacked the leverage. She grunted, cursed, she even tried biting his arms, but nothing worked. She even tried spewing fire but Garble simply closed his eyes and bore any discomfort. She had to think of something, she couldn’t lose here, not like-

“Three!” Scales suddenly shouted. Just like that, Ember’s hope for victory faded into oblivion. Her struggles ceased, and she simply lay under her opponent, unmoving, almost unresponsive.

Garble had never seen the look on her face before, not on a single dragon. Yet, somehow, he knew what it was: defeat. He separated himself from her, giving her room to stand. The punch Ember threw hit the side of his face harder than any blow she previously struck. Garble had to admit that it was a great right hook, one that would have put a weaker dragon to bed. Still, despite her anger towards him, there was something about her eyes that made him feel almost sorry for her.

Scales felt no pity though. She gave Ember her widest, most self-satisfied smirk. “See? I told you he was the strongest~” Scales sang. “Not that you ever had a chance. But look on the bright side, now you know your place on the mountain.”

“So what if he won?” Ember said, glaring at Scales. “It was barely a real fight, and I managed to sneak up on him!”

“And you still lost!” Scales said with a cackle. “You even had an advantage; Garble barely touched you. That’s because he’s a gentledrake.” Scales went to latch onto Garble’s arm, only for the drake to take a step back at the last moment. Without anything to grab onto, Scales hit the ground with a thud and began to whimper. She looked up at Garble with teary eyes. “Garble, I think I’m hurt,” she sniffed. “Won’t you help me up?” She made a show out of putting pressure on her wrist, only to wince and pull back.

Uninterested in helping, Garble turned around and began humming to himself.

“I said I’m hurt; won’t you help me, a poor, sweet, innocent girl up?” She sniffled and whimpered, nearly on the verge of tears. Still no attention. “Garble, I said I’m hurt!” She said, now using an angrier tone. She quickly began to whimper again, her face telling the world that she was a poor victim that desperately needed help, while her eyes screamed ‘do what I want before I kill you’. Her lip began to quiver, before gently sobbing into her hands. “How could you just leave me like this?” She asked through her crocodile tears. He still refused to turn around. “Help me up already!” She shouted, her face twisting into a snarl.

“I think I hear my brother calling,” Garble said, quickly scuttling towards his mother.

“Your brother-Garble, that’s not what you’re supposed to do when a beautiful girl is hurt!” She screamed as he walked away. With him gone, Scales easily stood on her own, miraculously able to put weight on her wrist.

“You’re pathetic,” Ember jeered.

Scales turned her nose up, cleaned the dirt off her, and marched towards her father, who was chuckling to himself over his daughter’s misfortune. Garble was rude, but he was also staying away from her, so he’d let it slide.

Ember, with no other reason to remain, returned to her mother, who was beyond mad. The little princess could only ponder what was about to happen to her. “I talked to them!” she said.

“You did, and then you made a spectacle of yourself.” Talons reached down, and grasped Ember by the scruff of her neck. “We are going home little missy, we are talking with your father, and we are having a long discussion about how a princess is supposed to act at a gathering.” The whelp feebly thrashed in her mother’s grip, but soon resigned herself to her fate, but not before looking back at Garble one last time.

“This isn’t over!” She cried out. Garble stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m going to beat you, you hear me?! We’re rivals for life!”

That dragon was going to annoy him for weeks, he could already tell. Shrugging off the threat, Garble looked up at his mother, saw the look of fury on her face, and considered running as far into the mountains as he could, changing his name, and finding a tribe of Diamond Dogs to live with. “What’d I do?” he asked.

“Garbuncle Ironscale, do you have a single clue who you were fighting with, how embarrassing that was to watch?”

“A loud mouth?” Garble asked in response. Spike snickered loudly. Only to be silenced by his mother’s glare.

“Garble. One week. Grounded.” She looked around and noticed all the whispering. “And we’re going home. Say goodbye to Jade, Spike. And before you ask, yes, you have to say goodbye.”

“Bye, Jade,” Spike grumbled. He was shocked to receive a peck on the cheek. His entire face reddened until his cheeks were brighter and redder than his brother’s. Knowing that her youngest had now had enough for today, Amber put Spike and Garble on her back and quickly flew off towards their cave.


The moment Amber returned home, she went to Flare and began to nuzzle him affectionately.

“How did you know I was upset?” Flare asked.

“I didn’t. What happened?” Flare motioned to Smolder and the books she’d been given, only to receive an eye roll. Spike and Garble, wide-eyed, scurried to her side and looked over the gifts. “That’s getting you upset? Flare, when they get bored and whiney, you are going to be thanking my grandmother for those. Besides, it’s not like reading is killing them.” She resumed her affectionate nuzzles, sighing in relief as Flare wrapped his arms around her, pulling her just an inch close to him. “This is for me. I need this after what I had to go through.”

“What happened?” Flare asked.

Amber began to recount the day, only for her mate to laugh uncontrollably.

He through his head back, his laughter echoing through the cave, infecting their children and forcing them to laugh as well. “Flare, this isn’t funny!”

“You’re right, this is hilarious! Spike and Garble turn out to be such lady killers, they just need to stand there and girls fight over them! Not only that, but Garble barely puts up a fight against one of them and still wins easily! How is that embarrassing?”

“Because he was fighting Princess Ember. The daughter of one of the most violent and protective Dragon Lords to ever walk the Earth.” she whispered through gritted teeth.

“It’s only embarrassing because it happened at a gathering,” Flare said, chuckling as his mate gave him a look that made her seem like a small child herself. “Trust me, barely anyone is going to be talking about Garble’s little skirmish.”

Flare was right. Hardly anyone cared about Garble and Ember’s scuffle. As far as they were concerned, it was just another day in the Dragon Lands. Parents were more interested to see what Torch would do when he found out. It soon came out that he didn’t care about the scuffle. Ember hadn’t been hurt, so it wasn’t even worth remembering.

The real piece of gossip that spread like a wildfire was Spike’s unique circumstances regarding his family. Most dragons thought Amber and Flare to be paragons of virtue to adopt an abandoned whelp. Most parents thought it difficult enough raising one whelp, let alone two, but to willingly take on a third, one that wasn’t even laid by Amber, was unthinkably kind. Most whelps that overheard the whispers didn’t care too much about it. Spike was small, and for now that was all that mattered.

Finally, there was little Jade Spiketail. After meeting Spike, she couldn’t help but fantasize about their future together. Jade Ironscale was such a beautiful, noble sounding name. She couldn’t wait until they were old enough to start courting for real. She could already picture how perfect that day would be.


Twelve Years Later

Jade’s voice could be heard across the land. “You’re dating a pony!?”

Author's Note:

An alternate POV for last chapter, following Spike and Garble's day at a gathering. And what a day it was.

Also, yes, I added Scales, the dragon from that one story in The Hearth's Warming Club, because I am running out of dragon names to use, and the design was right there. Any who, thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoy.