Spike vs Bridezilla, Destoroyah of Marriages

by TheMessenger

Chapter 4: Ten Months

Few creatures understood the value of connections better than Canterlot nobility. Money certainly could go a long way, but what many newcomers to the high life failed to recognize or had possibly forgotten in their dizzying rise was that your wealth was no good if you had no one around to accept it. Blood and names could open doors that gold could not, and for some of the older establishments, who you knew could be more important than the price you could offer.

To the largely cynical nobles of Canterlot, the new princess’s acclamations of friendship as magic were nothing revolutionary. It just went by a different name, and it was why a pony like Duke Deluxe could have confidently strutted to the front of long line of petitioners waiting for a possible audience with her Royal Majesty, as he had done every other Thursday, a couple hours before noon, for the past four and a half months.

This Thursday, the young Duke was finding the glares and the mumblings from the plebeians stuck standing in the line that he could simply bypass much harder to ignore than they typically were. The noticeable increase in guards patrolling the area certainly wasn’t helping his nerves, and the collar of his blouse became damp with perspiration as he rushed down the hall, his pace more of a panicked jog than his usual arrogant prance.

The screening team at the entrance to the throne room had been expanded in addition to the extra guards at the ready, but despite the added security and horsepower, the receptionists didn’t seem too concerned, their professional smiles and neutral expressions unreadable and unreflective of the tense atmosphere around them. A more insightful creature might have noticed a hint of irritation at Duke Deluxe’s approach, but the young stallion had other things occupying his mind.

“I—“ he started to say, only for his voice to suddenly crack and raise itself an octave higher. He cleared his throat and tugged at his sweat soaked collar. “I’m here to see Princess Twilight Sparkle. My personal assistant scheduled an appointment at this hour, and, and just let me in already.” Deluxe continued to fidget with his shirt as he shot nervous glances over his shoulder toward the line’s occupants. “Look, I know I’m in her calendar, so just let me through.”

The receptionist serving Deluxe, an experienced mare with her amber mane arranged in a stiff bun, kept her gaze upon him as she slowly flipped through several papers attached to a clipboard. “Name?”

“Are you, ahem. I am Duke Deluxe.”

“Duke Deluxe, here to—“

“To discuss the current status of my company’s license, yes!”

“Ah. Here you are.” The mare put down the clipboard. “Now, I believe I should first inform you that Princess—“

“Yes, yes, that’s all very good, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, so let’s not waste anymore of my or Her Highness’s time.” Duke Deluxe glanced over his shoulder one more time, and in doing so he failed to spot the receptionist’s brow raise or the ends of her lips twitch into the smallest hint of a grin. “Now, may I?” he demanded, gesturing to the grand doors.

The mare nodded to the guards posted at the doors, and the moment the entrance was open, Duke Deluxe rushed inside and breathed out a sigh of relief. Straightening his shirt and his mane, he stepped further into the throne room, his head held high as confidence returned with each step. The young noble had gotten halfway to the raised platform where the princess would have been seated only to freeze at the sight of an empty throne. His head swiveled as he looked around the room, searching for any sign of the princess, but her only presence was in the form of her depictions in the stained glass glorifying her past accomplishments.

Instead, there standing near the throne was a young purple dragon wearing a badge that had the royal seal, and in his claw there was a fist sized red ruby with several bites taken out of it. With him were a small team of scribes and an older stallion, a unicorn, who had on a formal dress coat and was cleaning his monocle with an embroidered handkerchief as the dragon spoke to him.

“—really didn’t think this needed the gala planning committee’s approval, so thanks for getting it all done.”

“But of course. A wedding on the castle grounds and for Her Highness’s second in command? I’m surprise that this hasn’t become a much larger arrangement.”

“Yeah, well. I mean, I think I speak for Rarity when I say that we’d both prefer it if our martial status didn’t make the front page of every major newspaper, but with me being a public figure and all—“

The dragon cut himself off as he came to notice Duke Deluxe’s appearance. “Oh, right. The, uh, the ten oh clock.”

“Advisor,” Deluxe said with a stiff bow in Spike’s direction before turning to the stallion. “Uncle Fancy Pants.”

“Dear nephew,” greeted the honorable Lord Fancy Pants. The smile directed at the boy was genuine, but there was a tinge of sadness to it, possibly even regret. In any case, Duke Deluxe didn’t appear to notice. “My apologies, Sir Spike. I didn’t mean to take so much of your time.”

“Nah, I’m the one who called you here in the first place,” Spike said with a contrasting lack of decorum. “We’ll iron out the rest of the details later. Just, uh, the gardens will be available by then, yeah?”

“Rest assured, the royal planning committees will take care of it.”

“And keeping the reporters to a minimum?”

At this request Fancy Pants’s face soured. “That, might be a tad trickier, but this old boy will see what he can do.” Then, with a nod to Spike and a second one to his twice removed nephew, the unicorn exited the room.

"So!' Spike said, setting down the ruby and clapping his claws together which caused the younger unicorn to jump. "Let me guess, an update on that license of yours?”

Duke Deluxe stretched his neck up and out as he tried to look past the dragon's shoulder. "Where's the princess? It's an important business matter, so I must—"

"Princess Twilight Sparkle is out for today," Spike interjected. As his eyes narrowed, the unicorn before him audibly gulped. "An emergency came up. I'm running court for the day in her place and have been granted her complete authority until her return." To emphasize, Spike tapped on his badge. "I think I can handle this 'important' business matter."

"Ah, is, is that r-right?" Deluxe again started to mess with his collar as Spike lowered the fingers he had used to make air quotation marks and retrieved his gem before taking another bite out of it. "This, ahem, emergency, would it happen to do with all the, uh, the dragons that are currently waiting outside?"

At the rising of Spike's hand, Duke Deluxe flinched, but all Spike did was pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. "No, no it does not. That's a completely unrelated issue. Now, so, about that license."

"Um, actually, I think we can table this matter of mine f-for the time being." Deluxe released a weak titter. "Perhaps once the princess is back. I can see that you are already drakely, er, greatly busy as it is."

"You sure?" Spike motioned to one of the scribes. "Looks like there's just a few details you need to address," he said while flipping though the binder that had been brought to him. "We could have you out of here with your license in ten, twenty minutes. Half an hour tops."

"No, no. I don't mean to dragon, I mean, drag this on, but, ah, I just think it might be better to finish this matter with the princess. I've been working on this mostly through her, and I don't want to, er, confuse myself."

Spike shrugged and slammed the binder shut. "Well, I can't stop you if that's how you feel, but it will mean having to schedule a new appointment. We can take care of that now while you're still here."

"No, that's quite alright. I'll, uh, have someone contact, figure, do the thing they need to do to schedule the thing. Um, excuse me." Duke Deluxe lowered himself into a short bow before sprinting out of the throne room and letting the doors crash behind him.

Spike let the following seconds pass in silence. "Well, okay then," he said before chomping down on the last of his ruby, the grinding and splintering of stone against dragon fang echoing through the room. He quickly swallowed and rubbed his hands together, cleaning off the last bits of red dust off them as he looked to the guards that were on his side of the doors, waiting for their orders. "Break’s over. Let's get the next one over with. Let them in."

The guards nodded and started to open the heavy twin doors. The moment a crack had formed, the entrance was flung wide open with enough force to nearly knock the sentries back flying. In crawled a dragon, as required by his larger red scaled frame. Even with him on all fours, the horns on the dragon's head nearly brushed against the ceiling, and the confides of the room's dimensions kept his wings folded against him. One of his eyes was scarred shut while other the size of a beach ball and of a mesmerizing topaz color scanned the entire room until it fell upon the only other member of his species in sight.

"My son!" the dragon exclaimed, his deep voice causing the room to rumble. The ponies closest to him flattened their ears against their heads. For the briefest of moments, his eye flicked to the ring on Spike’s finger, a band of gold with diamonds encrusting the entire circumference, before returning to its owner. "For years I have searched the world for you. High and low, near and far. I have been to the very ends of this world, never believing that you were truly lost. But now, on this joyous day, we are united, and it would do me no greater honor than to walk you down the aisle." The dragon hammered a fist into his chest. "As your father, I shall accept all the responsibilities, the risks, and the rewards that this momentous task undoubtedly entails. But now, my son, it is time to celebrate." With his massive claws held up to the roof, the dragon smiled widely, showing off a vast set of fangs all as large as a grown pony. "My boy, let us gather all the gems in this palace and feast until the next morning!"

The only sound that followed the dragon’s bold declaration was his own heavy breaths. With his arms folded across his chest, Spike turned to his assistants. "Well, what're your verdicts?"

"It was certainly better rehearsed than the last few," spoke a mare. "At least he didn't immediately start asking for gems."

"Bit overly dramatic though," another said.

"Really? I didn't think it was dramatic enough. Could have done some fire breathing at the very end, if you asked me," added one more critic.

The larger, older dragon slowly blinked his one good eye. "Um, my son? Is something the matter?"

Spike rubbed the end of his chin in thoughtful silence before answering. "You're red. I'm purple. How?"

"Why, you got your scales from your mother of course."

"And I'm guess that where these came from." Spike pointed to the ridged spikes on his head. "As opposed to those." He gestured to the dragon's pointed spiraling head horns. "And where is my mother?"

"You mother? Why, she's busy. Back in the Dragon Lands. Had to, clean a volcano. For, her mother, your grandmother. Messy work, very long. It could be a long while before she can meet you, what with your grandmother living so far away from everydragon else."

Spike pressed his palms together and exhaled. "How old am I?"

"How, how old?" A huge lump could be seen traveling down the dragon's gullet. "Why, you must be, around the age where." His eye squinted in concentration. "Five?"

Spike had to keep the ends of his mouth from lifting.

"No, five hundred!"

"Alright, I think we're done here." Spike motioned to the door. "We both know we're not related. Let's not waste either of our time."

"But, my son—"

"I'm not your son," Spike interrupted coolly, his eyes narrowing as his lips curled into a scowl. "I'm getting real sick of these games, so get out and take all your friends with you back to the Dragon Lands."

The dragon's own expression slowly darkened with a frown. "I'm not leaving without that feast. You can keep your silly pony ceremony, but I'll be taking your gems."

His claws flexed, his muscles tensed, his wings spread as far as the room would allow. A low growl rumbled out of his throat as the guards immediately surrounded him, their weapons pointed and at the ready. Armored pegasi hovered above, several directing their spears at the dragon's sole good eye and other soft vulnerable spots, while the horns of their unicorn comrades were all aglow, already weaving multiple magical countermeasures.

Spike’s own wings were spread. His claws slowly closed into fists, his knuckles cracking as he stared down the dragon. “You’re not the first dragon we had to kick out today.” A shot of green flames flew out of his nostrils. “This is your final warning. Leave.”

No creature moved, not the dragon, not the guards, not Spike. A collective breath was held, waiting for someone to initiate, and with each passing second, the wait became all the less bearable.

The standoff’s end came not from Spike and his royal guards nor from their draconic opponent but from the loud crashing entrance of a third party. The doors were once again flung aside, making space for yet another dragon, this one blue and with curved horns, like that of a ram, and a slenderer body than the other two dragons currently in the room. Her size was more comparable to that of Spike’s, a little larger perhaps, but at her approach, the biggest of the three immediately began to cower.

“D-D-Dragon Lord Ember!” he said, his voice quaking as his body shook. “W-what brings you here? N-not that I would dare question your comings a-and goings.”

“I’m here because a friend asked me to be here,” Dragon Lord Ember declared. “What are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?” she demanded, turning around to glare at the line of dragons in the hall behind her.

Spike gave the red dragon a look and prompted him to speak with a casual motion. When the dragon remained silent, Spike allowed himself a smirk before turning back to the newcomer.

“Apparently, I have a bunch of long lost fathers who have all decided to appear today.”

“What?” The red dragon and those in the hall cringed at the Dragon Lord’s shout. Their gazes immediately fell as Ember’s glare swept over them. “Alright, who here is Spike’s actual real father?”

The draconic crowd was silent and still, which only caused Ember’s rage to burn brighter as sparks flew from her teeth from clenching against each other. “Alright, all of you, back to the Dragon Lands, now! No pit stops, no breaks. That’s an order! And be ashamed!”

The dragons, including the large one with red scales, slinked away, their heads drooped and tails dragging along the ground. Pretty soon, save for the guards and the receptionist team, the hall leading to the throne room was empty, and the only ones present in the throne room were Spike, his scribes, the guards, and Ember.

Spike released his breath as the rest of his team became a choir of relieved sighing. “Thanks Ember. I wasn’t sure when you were going to get here. You just saved us a bunch of trouble.”

“Hey, no problem big guy.” Ember threw a punch into Spike’s shoulder, causing him to wince and rub the afflicted area. “Glad to have helped, though I’m sure you could’ve handle it. Oh, and congrats on the wedding thing with what’s her name, Charity? And, uh, sorry.”

“It’s Rarity, and don’t worry about it.” Spike rolled his shoulder a couple of times and tried to grin through the pain. “I can barely feel the bruise coming in.”

“Not that.” Ember grimaced. “It, might have been my fault, the whole imposter father thing.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s not like I told them to pretend to be your dad or anything,” Ember swiftly clarified. “When I got the invite to your wedding, I got, confused. You know I’m not great with your pony stuff.” She huffed as she folded her arms and stomped her foot down. “Like, I know you’re supposed to bring a gift, but I didn’t know what a wedding gift is supposed to be. Gems? Gold? It didn’t seem, enough, you know?”

“I mean, gems would have been fine.”

“Yeah, fine, but after everything we’ve been through, fine didn’t seem good enough.” She jabbed a finger into Spike’s chest. “I mean, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be Dragon Lord.”

“Okay? Not exactly sure how we get from wedding gifts to dragons pretending to be my dad.”

“I’m getting there, don’t rush me,” Ember snapped. She took a deep breath. “Okay, so I’m trying to come up with a gift and ended up talking to Thorax because I figured he might know a thing or two about weddings. I mean, he tried to crash one that one time with the rest of the changelings when they were still under that Crystalline or whatever.” Ember shook her head. “Big mistake. The guy was real excited about this, he had his invitation copied, framed, and turned into posters that he had plastered all over the place.”

The two dragons shared a small chuckle. In all honesty, the scene wasn’t too hard for Spike to imagine, knowing how excitable the changeling sovereign could get. “Anyways,” Ember continued, “the only thing I really got out of his ramblings was that ponies have a tradition of fathers walking them down aisles, whatever that means. I remember that you, uh, never knew your dragon father so I figured this could be the perfect gift. You get to meet your dad at last, don’t have to miss that huge aisle walking thing.” The Dragon Lord scowled. “Guess all that decree got you was a bunch of scummy opportunists. So, uh, sorry, but don’t worry. I’ll keep looking. If your dad’s alive, we’ll find him.”

Spike took a long moment to absorb Ember’s offer. “That’s, heavy.” He swallowed. “Look, it’s a kind thought, and I appreciate it, really I do, but I don’t really care about meeting my dragon dad. I’ve kind of made peace with this whole, thing.” He waved his hand around in an odd noncommittal gesture. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’d even want him at the wedding. He’d be more of a complete stranger to me than anything else really.”

“And you’d be okay with missing out on that whole walking down the aisle with your father thing?” asked Ember, frowning.

“Eh, it’s traditionally more of a bride thing anyways.”

“Right, and the bride is?”

“It’s Rarity. You know, the white one? With a horn, purple hair.”

“Right, right. The one who dresses up like seaweed and rocks.” As Spike held back a snicker, Ember stretched out her limbs and let out a sigh. “Well, now that that’s all taken care of, I’d better head back. Got make sure all those dragon’s keep out of trouble and figure out a new wedding gift.” She groaned. “Ugh, why is this so hard?”

“Hey, you’ve got time.” Spike grinned as he led the way to the throne room’s entrance. “You’re smarter than all the boulderheads back at the Dragon Lands put together. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Spike’s assertion won him an eye roll from Ember. “That’s really not saying much. I—“

She stopped and turned to the entrance, in the direction of a growing commotion. “That had better not be because of my dragons.” Her and Spike's pace quickened.

The absence of any scaly, literal fire breathers at the scene suggested otherwise. Instead, arguing with one of the receptionists was a stallion. His coat was a light gray, dirty white color, and there was slightly more gray than brown in his mane, tail, eyebrows, and mustache, indicative of the stallion's advancing age. Like Deluxe and Fancy Pants, the grumbling stallion was a unicorn, but from his lack of formal wear, his only attire being a straw hat and a duffel bag, it was plenty clear that he was no member of the Canterlot elite, if the mid-western twang in his voice hadn't made it obvious enough.

Spike's features lit up with recognition followed swiftly by confusion, then worry. He widened his stride and quickened his steps further.

"—as it may, I cannot simply let you in without first taking down your information."

“And for the hundredth time, I'm not here to make some darn petition. I'm here to see—" The stallion looked up at the sound of Spike's approach and jabbed a hoof in Spike's direction. "Him! I'm here to see him."

"As the royal advisor to the princess, there are many who wish to see Sir Spike, and all must go through the proper channels."

The stallion opened his mouth, preparing to prolong their quarrel, when Spike jumped in. "It's fine, it's fine," he assured the receptionist and the nearby guards who were starting to gather. "I know, the rules are there for a reason, but let's make an exception just for today." He gestured to the now empty hall. "Look, it's not like we've got any other petitioners at the moment, and we've only got a couple hours left before we break for lunch anyways. I mean, you let Ember right in, right?"

Ember scoffed. "Like they could stop me."

The receptionist, the one with the bun who had confronted Duke Deluxe, shifted through her notes. "I suppose an allowance could be allowed, all circumstances considered, so long as the matter discussed does not pertain to business."

"Yeah, of course." Spike turned to the unicorn. "Er, this isn't about business, right?"

The stallion sniffed. "Now call me old fashioned, but I'd consider the martial status of my eldest daughter sort of, in a fashion, my business." From his duffel bag, he pulled out a card, one decorated with gold vines with silver flowers and doves and bells and a diamond within a flame. "Wasn't exactly thrilled to learn through the mail that she was getting hitched and I'd be getting a new son-in-law."

"Wait, we didn’t, oh." Spike's eyes grew large. "Oh horse apples."

"Son in what now?" Ember took a threatening step forward, and to his credit, the stallion didn't flinch. "Are ponies seriously pretending to be your father now too?"

"No, no!" Spike jumped and put himself between the Dragon Lord and the stallion. "It just means I'm marrying his daughter, that's all."

Rarity's father snorted. "Hate to rain on your parade, but I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. See, I'm pretty sure you never got my approval."

"Your, approval?" Spike frowned as he rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, isn't that, kind of, you know, archaic?"

"Old fashioned, sure, but it's still an important sign of respect, gosh darn it. I had to get Cookie's pa to approve, my pa had to get my ma’s pa to approve, don't think you can just skate by because you're some royal hotshot."

"I didn't think, I mean, I didn't." Spike looked to his assistants, the receptionists, the guards, even to Ember for support, but most simply avoid his gaze, finding interest suddenly in the floor or something out in the distance instead, and all the Dragon Lord had to offer him was an awkward shrug.

"So, um, looks like you have this all handled, so I'm just going to go now," she announced, pointing both of her index fingers toward the opposite end of the hall. "Good luck with this whole in law thing." And with that, Ember was gone.

A few seconds passed after Ember's abrupt exit before Spike could fully recover. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze directly into Rarity's father's. "Sir, I am in love with you daughter. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, to wake up every morning and have the first thing I see be her face, her voice the first thing I hear. Please, grant me your permission to marry Rarity."

Again, the stallion snorted. "It doesn't work that way, least not in this family." Hoisting the duffel bag onto his back, he started to march out the hall, down the same path Ember had taken. "Come on, you can spare an hour, can't you?"

Spike hesitated as he glanced over to his scribes and to the receptionists. "Court is adjourned for the day," he declared before hurrying after the unicorn. "Go, uh, go home or whatever."

Despite his age, the stallion put his head start to good use, creating a good deal distance between him and Spike in that short span of time, and Spike had to take a couple of wing flaps in order to catch up. The rest of their shared journey through the palace went in a silence that Spike found himself too nervous to break even once they had stepped outside and the stone beneath their feet had transitioned to grass. He tried to read the stallion's gait, his posture, and what could be gathered from his side profile, but those features betrayed nothing.

Spike couldn't help but wonder, what would happen if that approval failed to be granted. Would the stallion try to force Spike to cancel the engagement? Well that wasn’t going to happen, not in a million years. But then, would they want to have someone who didn't approve of their union at their wedding, who could potentially raise a ruckus and would possibly object when prompted? Should they rescind the invitation? Or would he simply refuse to make an appearance, leaving Rarity to walk down the aisle unescorted?

Spike shook such imagined scenes away. None of those were acceptable options. He had to win his future father-in-law’s approval, no matter what it took. For Rarity. For their perfect day. His shoulders squared and back straightened, and his final steps before they stopped in the middle of a well manicured field right outside the royal gardens were stomped into the ground with confidence and a restored resolve.

“Hm. Guess this is good enough.” The stallion set his bag down and removed his hat before taking a moment to look around the area. “Yeah, this is good. Plenty of open space. Soft grass.” His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply. “Ah. You know, for a big city, Canterlot’s got some nice air.” He started to rummage through the duffel bag. “Still, can’t beat Ponyville though. Me and the misses, we’ve done some traveling over the years, and there are plenty of neat places out there, but Ponyville’s something special. Perfect place to settle down, raise a family, have a couple of foals. You get it, don’t you Spike? Spent a good couple of years there, didn’t you? When we all knew Princess Twilight as that awkward librarian who lived in a tree.” He chuckled.

Spike nodded. “Definitely a lot of good memories from there.” He hesitated. “It’s where Rarity and I met.”

“Could never understand why Rarity wanted to leave Ponyville,” the stallion continued with a shake of his head. “When she was younger, she had this dream of moving here to find a prince to marry. Never had the heart to tell her how I really felt about that dream, but I’m glad she grew out of it. Wish she’d spend more time back in Ponyville though. Here, catch!”

Something hard bounced off Spike’s chest and landed at his feet. The stallion clicked his tongue in annoyance as Spike reached down to pick up the object. It was a strangely shaped ball, more like an oval with rounded tips at the two ends than the traditional shape of a sphere. Prominent white stitchings stuck out of the ball’s bumpy brown side. A quick glance to the stallion’s flank confirmed that the ball matched his cutie mark.

The stallion backed away until a good amount of distance stood between him and Spike. “Well, what are you waiting for? Toss it over.”

Spike gripped his claw around the ball, getting a feel for its shape, and flung it back. His aim was off, and the stallion had to adjust his position in order to receive it.

“Played sports much as a kid, Spike?” he asked before throwing the ball back.

“Not really,” Spike answered with a grunt as the ball’s tip struck him in the chest again. The force of the blow surprised him, having come from an older stallion, though this time, Spike managed to hold on to the ball. “I spend a lot of my childhood, well most of it really, helping Twilight in her studies.”

The ball returned to the stallion. “Well, you’re not a bad catch.”

It was Spike’s ball now. “Thanks. You’d be surprised how often that skill comes up when working with Twilight.” He threw the ball back.

“Your throw could do some work though. See if you can make the ball spin through the air, like in a spiral. Should be easy with those hands of yours.”

“Like this?”

“Better. Keep at it.”

The ball continued to travel between the two. For the next couple of minutes, the only sounds were their grunts with each throw and catch, the whizz of the ball cutting through the air, and the songs of distant birds.

“My pa and I used to go on like this for hours,” the stallion suddenly explained. “Just back and forth until the sunset, and Ma would get all upset over how cold dinner had gotten.”

“Oh yeah?” The thought of doing this for hours straight made Spike’s arm grow sore and weary.

“You know, I tried getting Rarity into this when she was still a filly, before she even had her cutie mark,” the stallion continued. “Of course, even then, she’d have none of this physical dirty stuff, so I’d thought I’d try again with her sister.” He let out a short bark of a laugh. “Sweetie Belle always idolized her sister, so no surprise there when she lost interest real quick.”

“That’s a shame,” said Spike. “It’s pretty fun, once you’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s parenthood for you. Sooner or later, your kids’ll want to make their own paths in life, sometimes completely separate from your own.” The ball slipped from his grasp, but he made no move to retrieve it. “They do all sort of things you find crazy, but you know they have to do them. Sure, you can say no and try to slow them down, but in the end you know you can’t stop them, and eventually, maybe you’ll even stop wanting to.” At last, he picked up the ball. “Still, knowing all that doesn’t exactly make it hurt any less when they get further and further away from you.”

Spike remained silent for the next couple of exchanges of the ball as he considered the stallion’s words. Nothing he could think of felt appropriate, so he bit his lip and nodded as he sent the ball back.

“Cookie and Sweetie Belle love you, Spike, they see you as part of the family. Me, I know you’re a good one.” The stallion held onto the ball a little while longer before returning it. “Still, to be honest, when Rarity said the two of you were dating, I wasn’t sure what to think. I figured that maybe she realized she was starting to slow down and went to the first guy who would give her any attention.” His face fell, and he shook his head with a sigh before the next toss. “Stupid, right? I should’ve known better. Rarity doesn’t settle.”

The ball went wide, forcing Spike to run back and dive face first to make the catch. He still missed anyways, and the ball bounced off a little ways away.

“I’m still not happy about having to learn about Rarity’s engagement through a wedding invitation,” the stallion said after Spike had scrambled to grab the ball and returned to his original spot. “But I understand the two of you are adults with busy lives, and there’s no place for an old coot like myself to be mucking them about. Still would have been nice to be included though,” he added.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Once again, he held onto the ball instead of immediately throwing it back. “Look, like I said, I know you’re a good one, and I know my Rarity’s a smart one, especially compared to me. My approval doesn’t mean squat compared to her judgment. Heck, it took me a few months just to realize that and another month to work up the courage to come see you to talk about all this.” He stared sternly and intensely into Spike’s eyes. “Here’s the deal. I trust my little girl. Can I trust you to make sure she’s right about all this?”

Spike nodded, his face set in determination. “I promise you, sir, I will do everything to make Rarity the happiest mare in Equestria and beyond.” He let a smile touch his features. “As happy as she has made me, if that were possible.”

The stallion let the ball drop and smiled back as he held out his forelegs toward Spike. “I’ll hold you to it, Son.”