Spike vs Bridezilla, Destoroyah of Marriages

by TheMessenger

Chapter 1: Twenty Two Months

The center of trade and culture with its multitudes of shops and specialty goods and sea ports, massive fashion district, and vast collection of theaters housing a great deal of award winning troupes and their shows along with the several art and history museums and tourist drawing landmarks, few could deny Manehattan’s majesty. Canterlot may have been Equestria’s capital, but the debate over which of the two metropolises was the true jewel in Equestria’s crown has raged on since Manehattan’s boom, and even once time has left the both of them ruined shells of their former selves, the survivors would no doubt continue to argue over which had left the more beautiful corpse.

Of course every town, big or small, has its detractions, and Manehattan was no exception. Living expenses, even in districts of a middling affluence, could be bankruptcy-inducingly high. Travel through the city could be excruciatingly slow as the streets were often packed with both tourists and natives, and the sudden improvised musicals that occasionally broke out rarely helped. Injuries from taxi collisions were unfortunately common, as were swindlers, pickpockets, and thieves on the prowl for an easy bit.

And then there was the rain. Not having any real farmland or produce to speak of outside of some small porch and community gardens, Manehattan’s leaders saw little need to invest in a well organized weather team. Rain was still a useful and convenient means for cleaning off the walls of the many buildings and in cooling off the city’s inhabitants during those mucky summer days, but such needs were sporadic. Thus, in theory, Manehattan only required a budget sized skeleton crew to prepare those few irregular showers.

In practice, it meant that the Manhattan weather team was often unstaffed, underpaid, and horribly disorganized. Requests from city hall could go weeks before being addressed, and there was little rhyme or reason to the decisions of when the rains would take place or how much rain would be received. Often the only warning the ponies of Manhattan would get before the torrential downpour were the growing shadows overhead mere minutes before the rain began, and more than one public event had to be called off due to an unforeseen storm.

Thankfully, that wasn’t quite the case for Spike and his dinner date, but it did mean that when he and Rarity did arrived at the agreed upon place at the agreed upon hour, the two had to enter one of Manehattan’s finest eateries soaked to the bone, their formal wear drenched and clinging tightly to them.

There was an apparent absence of sympathy shown by the stallion at the front podium, his own dress suit dry, as Spike and Rarity approached him, leaving drops of water behind them. “Yes?” the stallion said, his mustache curling slightly as he prolonged the single syllable.

Spike bit back his chuckle. As the princess’s royal advisor, he had had enough experience with the Canterlot elite to recognize a faked hoity-toity accent. He cleared his throat. “We have a reservation. Party for two, for Spike and Rarity.”

The dragon felt something tug at his arm and turned to find, to his mild but pleasant surprise, Rarity linking a front limb around his own. The elaborate weave her mane had been painstakingly styled in had become undone in the rain, leaving her mane flat and in uneven curls, the streaks of aged gray hidden within the tangles of violet still present and vibrant from her youth. The makeup around her eyes was running, leaving dark stains down her naturally white cheeks. All Spike focused on, however, was Rarity’s smile. It was a little worn but still retained its earlier cheeriness and radiance, and the sight restored some of Spike’s own that had been washed away with the rain, and in response, Spike smiled back.

“Hm.” The stallion glanced up from his ledger. “No, I’m afraid I can’t seem to find Spike and Rarity in here.”

Spike’s smile faltered as he turned back to the stallion. “It might be just under my name, Spike.”

“I have one for Spike the Dragon at seven? Party of two, with private orchestra reserved on the patio?”

“Yes, that’ll be me,” Spike said through his teeth, his smile now looking more forced. “Er, us.”

“I see. I am afraid that the patio has been closed for the evening due to rain. If you still wish to dine at this hour, we do have another table available.”

“Yeah, sure. Great, uh, yeah, great. We’ll take it.”

The stallion nod and gestured to the curtain behind him. “Through here, please. A waiter will be with you shortly to show you to your table. May we hold onto your coats whilst you dine with us?”

Spike shared a quick look with Rarity before nodding. “Yeah, sure,” he said as he placed his suit jacket into the waiting hooves of the stallion, taking a quick moment to stretch his wings, and Rarity’s silk shawl immediately followed, lifted by the magic of her horn. Underneath was a bright violet dress with a shorter skirt attached that would have been tastefully raised up over her haunch by multiple layers underneath had it not been for the rain.

“Thank you. You may pick these up at the front when you are done.” The stallion bowed his head. “Please, enjoy your meal.”

With one last acknowledging nod, Spike and Rarity pushed past the velvet curtains and stepped into the dining hall of the restaurant, and waiting for them was another sharply dressed gentlestallion. “Sir, madam,” the stallion greeted. “If you would follow me please.”

The plush carpet muffled any sound their steps would have made as they passed by the other diners, stallions in their dress shirts and mares in their gowns and the occasional griffon and changeling, the light of the tables’ candles beaming off their filled glasses and silverware and the gold of their jewelry. The soft songs of violins mingled with the private conversations of the guests, and on a raised platform in the very center of the room there was a bright white piano, its musician in a similarly colored suit playing away as a large chandelier of crystal sparkled overhead.

The table they were brought to was relative small, designed specifically to seat two, and was close to the restaurant’s center, near the piano and several other occupied tables. A pair of stools with plush cushions were waiting across from one another.

“Is something wrong, Spike?”

At Rarity’s question, Spike immediately replaced his frown with a grin. “It’s nothing, really. Just, it’s a little crowded.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kind of hoping for, you know, something a little more private.”

“If sir wishes, I could reseat you and madam once a more accommodating spot is available,” their waiter offered. “However, as it may no longer coincide with your reserved time, there may be a rescheduling fee.”

“No, no, this is fine.” Spike immediately took a seat, which barely contained his larger form. “Yep, this is fine.”

“Very good sir,” said the waiter as Rarity sat as well. Menus quickly found their way in front of Rarity and Spike. “Our special today is a white sauce angel hair pasta with snow peas, yellow carrots, and southern herbs and comes with a side. I would recommend the honey glazed sweet potato cuts.”

“That does sound like quite the dish, but I would like to see this establishment‘s full repertoire.” Rarity cracked open her menu. “I have heard such wonderful reviews. Spike?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We’ll need a few minutes.”

“Very good. Any beverages.”

“Sparkling water, please.”

“Same here. Oh, and can we also get a couple of glasses of this with the meal.” Spike lifted his menu and pointed a claw at one of the back contents.

“Ah, but of course. I see that sir has excellent taste.” The waiter nodded approvingly. “Exquisite and works well with just about anything. I’ll be back with your waters and bread shortly while you finish deciding.” And with a bow, the stallion walked off, leaving the two alone with each other.

“Excellent taste, hm?” Rarity smiled and leaned forward with her chin in her hooves. There was a ruby brooch around her neck, Spike noted, one that was quite familiar. “It’s been less than a month since we last saw each other. Have you truly matured that much in such a short time?”

“Hey, I’ve managed to pick up a few things from all those diplomatic summits,” Spike said in mock indignation. “Besides.” He leaned forward as well, his fangs flashing in a playfully wolfish smirk. “I’ve always had excellent taste, at least when it comes to mares.”

Rarity raised a hoof over her lips to hide her giggle. With a sigh, she reached into her purse and removed a pocket mirror and a packet of tissue papers. “So, Mr. Royal Advisor to the Princess,” she said as she wiped away the smeared makeup, “what’s the occasion?”

“What, can’t a dragon abuse his advisory authority to relocate and reschedule the defense board’s budgetary meeting to the same city his girlfriend’s store happens to be in around the same time as her annual review with her managers?”

Rarity snapped the mirror shut and returned it to her bag before giving Spike a dubious look. “Spikey, darling, please. How long have we know each other? I don’t think I’ve seen you this nervous since our first date as a couple.”

“I just, you know, missed you. I mean, letters are nice and all, but—“

A clearing of a throat interrupted Spike. The waiter had returned, and with him were a pair of glasses and a full pitcher as well as a basket of bread. “Your water,” the waiter announced as he poured the drinks and placed them before the two. “Are you ready to order?”

“Let’s see.” From her bag, Rarity pulled out a set of red spectacles and gave the menu another scan. “I’ll start with a garden salad with light vinegar, and for my main course I’ll have the baked zucchini dish with the roasted vegetable medley.”

“Very good madam. And you sir?”

“Er, let’s go with the mushroom risotto and the pasta special with stuffed peppers.”

“Very good sir. Your food shall be here momentarily.” The waiter bowed and once again retreated, but before they could continue their conversation, a quintet of tuxedoed musicians had taken the waiter’s place, armed with either a violin or a cello.

“There was some mention about a reserved orchestra at the front, wasn’t there?” Rarity noted, an eyebrow raised as the musicians started their first chords.

“Ha, yeah, yeah, I guess there was. I just, figured it might be nice to have some music while we ate, thought it might be a nice surprise,” said Spike with a weak laugh. “So uh, how was your review? Love your dress by the way, was it from there? A Rarity for You exclusive?”

“In a sense. I made some personal modifications for tonight. Nothing groundbreaking, but considering how little time you gave me to prepare, I can be forgiven for.” Rarity suddenly paused, and she regarded the musicians with slowly narrowing eyes.

“Ah!” Spike slammed his face into the palm of his claw and groaned. “Darn it. I thought told them to, ngh.”

“This, they played this at that one Grand Galloping Gala, the year before we got together. This was being played when you first asked me to dance.” Rarity looked to Spike who had stood up and was making slashing motions across the front of his neck at the musicians. The musicians paid him no heed as they continued to play. “Spike, what’s going on?”

Spike let out another groan as his flattened his face against his fists. A small puff of smoke escaped his nostrils as he huffed. “Well, I guess this is it. I tried to, I wanted them to play that at the very end, for when I did this.” Removing his claws from his face, Spike smoothed out his shirt, tried to straightened the green ridges that ran along the top of his head and his back, then lowered himself to a knee before Rarity. Even with him kneeling, the dragon still had to look down slightly to meet the unicorn’s gaze, a drastic reversal of their roles when they had first met each other so long ago.

“Rarity,” he said as Rarity’s hooves were brought over her mouth. “We’ve known each other for so long, but during these past few years together, you’ve made me the happiest creature in all of the world, and I can only hope that I’ve brought you even a small fraction of the happiness that you’ve given me. The prettiest gems in the mightiest dragon’s hoard couldn’t hold a candle to you.” Spike drew in a deep breath and reached to his side. “Rarity, would you do me the honor of.”

Spike froze. His eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. “Oh no.”

“What?” Rarity breathed, her chest heaving as tears visibly swelled in her eyes. “What is it?”

“I, uh, the ring. It was in my jacket.” Spike rubbed the back of his head as his face lit up, the heat of his embarrassment visible through his thick scales. “Um, so, this hasn’t gone at all the way I had planned, but I’m honestly about to lose my nerve here and, well, will you marry me?”

Rarity’s single worded answer was immediately followed by her launching herself out of her seat and into Spike’s arms. Before another word could be uttered, her lips locked with his, stealing away the dragon’s breath as she pressed further and further into an increasingly passionate kiss. The warmth of his mouth, from the fire in his breath to the burning of his saliva coated tongue, caused Rarity to blush as she continued to venture forward. She shut her eyes, leaving the world around her to be lost in the sensations of her newly acquired fiancé.

“Ahem.”

The clearing of a throat brought both she and Spike reluctantly back to reality. Their waiter had returned with their appetizers as well as a tinted bottle, two glass goblets, and a look of curiosity and slight disapproval. His eyes weren’t the only ones upon them as the musician had ceased their playing and many of their fellow patrons had turned away from their own meals and conversations to stare at the couple that had been so passionately embracing moments prior.

Spike, his face flushed red and with a crazed grin plastered upon it, turned to the waiter. “I, er, think we’ll take our food to go.”

“Very good sir, though I am afraid we will have to considered your reservation canceled without proper notice, and as such there will be a fee added to your bill.”

The two shared a quick look with each other, their eyes rolling before Spike made his response:

“Eh, worth it.”