Taking Flight

by David Silver

10 - Griffon Empire

The train chugged away, little puffs of smoke escaping from its engine as it fled away from Spike and Gabby. "Here we are!" Gabby waved gladly over... not much. "This way." She waved with boundless excitement, starting away from the platform. "Wanna fly? Way faster."

"Sure." There was no particular advantage to hiking it that he could see. They launched together and soared over the land that his friends, long ago, had to trek. "Rainbow must have been so mad."

"Rainbow?" Gabby flew about Spike, facing him and going backwards. "Dash?"

"Yeah. She and Pinkie came up here once before, to Griffonstone. Is that where we're going?"

"Nah." She twirled back around. "Griffonstone's alright, but that's not where I'm from." She pointed off, still ahead, but at an angle. "Griffopolis!"

Spike blinked owlishly at that. "Are all griffon towns like that? I mean starting with 'griff' and all. Ponyville's the exception, on the pony side."

Gabby laughed at Spike's confusion. "Ponies scream pony with every town's name they have. We're just more honest about it."

Spike pondered the names of Pony places. Baltimare, Manehattan, Canterlot... He chuckled softly with realization. "You are not entirely wrong on that one. Well, dragons don't do that."

Gabby stopped so quickly Spike thumped against her. "Do dragons even have towns?" she asked, hovering there with a quizzical expression.

"Uh... Not like griffons and ponies do." He shrugged at that and pointed past Griffonstone, which was passing on their right. "Is that it?" He could see another town, a little further, though clearly separated by some miles.

"Griffopolis," sighed Gabby with a smile. "Missed you." She swooped in, diving towards her home, though it was still some distance away.

Spike gave a powerful flap, catching up to her side, the wind rushing by them in their hurry. "Hey, so why did you leave in the first place?"

Gabby let out a tepid 'eh'. "Well... Spike... I'm not exactly the 'typical' griffon." She rubbed one arm with the opposing hand with a nervous chuckle. "Most of them were... kinda weirded out by... this." She waved over herself.

"It can't be that bad." He reached for her hand, squeezing lightly. The reassuring gesture was enough to get a smile to return, faintly.

They came in for a landing at the edge of the town. It was about Ponyvillian in scope, a small town, spread out. Unlike Griffonstone, the houses were more often one story affairs. Often with thatch rooves. Spike gave an appreciative 'huh'. "Not bad. Griffonstone was bigger on stacked houses."

"Yeah..." Her eyes lit up. "Gerald!" She waved wildly at a griffon going overhead.

They paused, inclining their parrot head down at them. "Gabby? You're still alive?" He landed in front of them. "And you have a dragon." Gerald looked over Spike with wariness. "No fire, eh?"

Gabby swatted Gerald on the back. "You joker! Spike, this is Gerald. He's a fisher. He can catch dinner like it's nothing."

"It's a living." Gerald shrugged, his white and brown spotted tail flicking behind him. "So what does your dragon buddy do?"

Spike quickly produced his medal. He had taken it off, but out it came when asked. "I work for Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"Yeah?" Gerald squinted a little. "Ponies got it easy."

Gabby suddenly slid between the two. "Ponies have their own problems," she hurriedly threw out. "You know what they say, grass is always greener, right?"

"That's a pony considering their lunch." Gerald smirked with clear satisfaction at his humor. "Anyway, gotta fish." And he took off without any further delay.

Gabby rubbed behind her head. "Well, one friend down. Gerald." She waved at the departing form. "Nice guy, once you get past the prickly exterior." She leaned in closer to Spike. "That's what griffons are. They have a tough shell, but once you get past that, they open up."

"Not that different from most dragons then." Spike slipped his medal away. "Especially around not-dragons. Uh... which you aren't..."

Rather than bother Gabby, she seemed to smile at that, beaming. "If you put up with mine, I'll put up with yours. We'll be even!" With balance found, she continued leading the way into the town proper. "I wonder if my house is still..."

"You had a house?"

Gabby looked over at the surprised Spike. "Of course I did. Where else would I sleep? I mean, I have slept in some funny places..." She shrugged at that, but a building came into view. "There you are! Wonder if it's still open." She broke into a jog towards it.

"Still open?" He snapped two fingers as they approached. "Somegriffon else could have moved in?"

"I wasn't here to call dibs." Gabby gestured at the building. "So if any other griffon wanted it, who'd stop them?" She marched up to the door and knocked firmly with the back of her hand. "Ollie Ollie Oxen Free!"

The door opened outwards so quickly it thumped Gabby back and away. "Whattaya want?!" demanded an older female griffon, scowling at Gabby.

Spike waved at the recovering Gabby with one hand. "She used to live here, sorry."

"Yeah." And with that short statement, the door was closed. "And stay gone," came muffedly from inside.

Gabby sighed with a little laugh. "So, that's out..." She turned in place, taking in the lay of the land. "But no point crying over spilled milk. Spike, prepare to be treated!"

"Treated?" He followed after her to a building with a long opening along its side at about chest height. There were stools in front of it and a few tables beyond that.

Gabby parked right in one of those stools with a big grin. "Gary! You're still here."

The griffon inside, a classic eagle/lion blend, turned to face Gabby as he came closer, poking his head out. "Tailfeathers! Gabby? Is that you?"

"Sure is!" She thrust out a hand and it was met in a loud clap. "And I brought a friend." She eagerly waved at Spike. "This is Spike, and his tastebuds are waiting to be taunted."

Gary chuckled softly. "If he's with you, I'll give him the local price, but that won't protect his tongue. Is he ready to handle this?"

Spike inclined his head faintly. "How hot are we talking here?"

"Oh, oh no. Not hot." Gary chuckled with dark ambitions. "More... sour. Trust me, you'll know it when you have it. Two specials, coming up! Gabby, where ya been? Figured you flew the coop forever this time." The sounds of sizzling could be heard, licks of flames teasing upwards from inside.

Gabby gestured at the kitchen opening. "Gary is a perfect example of what I said. We're total chums. Weren't at first, but now? Gary, been in the pony lands. I'm a fashion model? Can you believe it?!"

"Get out!" he called, though not turning, his eyes on what he was preparing. "Ponies like griffons like that? Woulda never figured."

Spike could smell the food and it was... something... Hints of that sour that had been promised teased in it. He did his best to reserve judgement. Some food was an... acquired taste... "So..."

"What?!" Gary poked his head free. "It'll be ready in a minute, cool your butt." And back in he went to cook.

Gabby waved it off. "Don't take it personally. Gary gets in the zone when he's making his specialties. Gary, be nice to Spike. He came all this way to say hello."

"Yeah, thanks. They treating you right, Gabs?"

Gabby leaned over towards Spike. "See? He cares. Tough outside, soft inside." Her voice raised, "Yeah. I have a nice job and the city's real nice. They don't have your cooking though."

"Then it ain't got nothin'," assured Gary as two plates slid out into view on that lip. "Two specials up! Eat 'em before they lose the special flavor."

Gabby snatched both, setting one in front of Spike. "He's not kidding. This is best right off the fire."

No more delays available, Spike reached for the fork... that wasn't there. A glance aside revealed Gabby was just chomping down, her face practically buried in the local delicacy.

"When in Roan..." He lifted the place and took a bite. No tepid little nibble. Food had to be eaten properly! A real bite!

It was just as sour as advertised! His face scrunched at the powerful tastes and smells, but he would not be defeated, not so easily. Gabby's loud smacks and slurps were encouragement enough. It became his job, his duty! He finished that plate, setting it down, empty.

"I'll be..." Gary was watching him. "Ain't never see any creature, griffon or otherwise, finish their first plate of that."

Gabby pushed back her plate. "You kept up with me. That is impressive." She licked over her beak with a soft 'mmm'. "I half expected you to take a taste and ask for something else."

Suddenly, a hand, thrust out through that window slit at Spike. "Anycreature that can demolish their first plate of the special? They gotta be alright."

Spike accepted the hand with a queer smile. He hadn't realized he was doing something extraordinary. "Thanks. Gary, right?"

"And you're Spike," he returned. "I'll remember that. Did you actually taste it? Or did you just inhale it."

Spike ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth. "It's an interesting flavor... At first, it was..." He spread his hands out. "Way too much... But there were hints of other things. They came out when you got past the first, uh... bit?"

"Ha." Gary withdrew back into his place, some scrubbing sounds heard. "Alright, you tasted it then. Good on ya. You come back with Gabs, I'll show you other things, broaden your horizons. Gabs, you ain't the champ no more."

"Aw!" She huffed with a bit of a pout on her beak. "Spike! I was the champ at first timing, then you came along and--" She pantomimed shoveling food into her beak. "Down the hatch like it was nothing. Gotta say, I'm impressed."

"Only because you were there." He rubbed behind his head. "Honestly, I didn't want to wimp out..."

"Aw." She smooched his cheek suddenly. "You were brave, for me?! That is so sweet!"

"Gag me." Gary peeked out from his hiding place. "Gabs, where you staying? Are you staying?"

"For a few days." She held up two fingers close together. "Speaking of that, my old place got snatched."

"That'll happen," agreed Gary without much emotion on that. "You need a roost?"

"Do you have space?" Gabby gestured between Spike and herself. "We need a place to stay while we visit."

"Both of you?" His eyes moved to Spike. "One condition."

Spike hiked a brow. "That condition is?"

Gary thrust a finger out at Spike. "You're so good at stuffing things in your mouth, put it to work. Every day you haunt my place, I try out a new dish on you. I want an honest review, no holds barred. Hurt my feelings, I can take it."

"He isn't lying." Gabby nodded easily. "You don't make food this specialty by having a thin coat."

"Damn right. So, deal?"

Spike considered the scowling griffon. "Alright... I won't be scared away by a new food. You're trying to find new good flavors, right?"

"They are good flavors," huffs out Gary. "The trick is finding the ones griffons besides me can appreciate. Anyway, my place has a second level. Attic space really. You can crash there." A little smirk spread. "You two are a thing, I can tell. You'll have to get real cozy, but that shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Gabby colored. "Gary! Um, but... yes... Spike is my special somedragon." She reached to scoop him on in a one armed embrace. "Thank you. You're the best."

"You just can't get enough of the special." The smile implied he was alright with that arrangement. "Let me finish cleaning up in here and I'll show you where you'll be."

"I know where it is!" Gabby pointed off.

"Sure, but only one of us has the key, genius. Seriously, one second."

They'd have to wait a moment for cleaning to be complete. But they had a place to stay. The trip to Griffopolis could proceed!

Author's Note:

I really like the chemistry between these two. They're so pure! Gary shows griffons can warm up to a creature.

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Comments

[RadicalDishonesty]

Well, Spike did eat the baked bads. He probably has a gut of iron and really tolerant tastes.

So, it seems completely plausible he'd be really good at that... but sour might be different anyway.

[The Sandwich Guardian]

Good chapter.

[David Silver]

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Random note, but I had forgotten this fact, at least actively. My subconscious, on the other hand, it does not bother to inform me why something feels proper.