Spike's Greatest Endeavor

by Troyjan

After a Pleasant Day

With nothing left to do, Rarity headed home. Upon starting to leave, she noticed a shiny surface glint from atop the grass. It was the Sapphire that she dropped. Now it was her Saphire. Rarity lifted it up again with her magic. This time, it felt considerably lighter. Rarity was at a loss for what to do with the thing. It would be utterly wasteful to just to fling it down the mountain and forget about it. Perhaps she could just sell it to her local jeweler at a modest price, and leave it in better hooves. Or maybe she would find another use for it. For now, she placed the rock inside her saddle bag.

Rarity stepped down off the grassy peak, and onto the rocky path that ran down the mountain’s face. One hoof after the other, she slowly descended down the mountain, careful not to slip and send herself tumbling. Going down was significantly easier, and far more pleasant than the climb up. Once Rarity was walking at a good pace, she began trotting in rhythm. The steep path gradually declined as she lowered. Pretty soon, Rarity once again felt grass again beneath her hooves. Now walking along the gentle hillsides, Rarity made her way towards the nearest patch of woods. Upon reaching the opening the forest, Rarity looked over the tree line. The sun was setting faster than she had initially imagined. Still, she knew she should have plenty of time to get to her home before dark.

Rarity continued, making her way through the forest path from before. Walking through the woods felt more natural this time. Having a rough idea of where to expect the tree roots, and how high they typically came up out of the ground, Rarity had an easier time walking over them. Despite the woods the being noticeably darker than earlier in the day, Rarity was able to take notice of things that she had missed the first time. She took in the distinct, sweet musky aroma from the thick layer of discarded tree leaves along the forest floor. Rarity also noticed the even smaller signs of life. She spotted things such as an ugly but harmless looking caterpillar inching its way up a tree trunk, to the small mushrooms that had spread over the surface of a long fallen log. Many of these details were gross to Rarity, while others, such as the mosquitos, were outright irritating. Still, merely observing these things felt pleasant in their own way to Rarity, as she walked through the somber yet tranquil forest. Beyond the natural signs of life were her own traces from earlier that day. At several points along the forest path, there were small stepped-on plants, and several freshly snapped sticks. In a particular stretch where the soil had been exceptionally soft, there was a set of four hoof prints, accompanied by a pair of two small, stubby claw prints alongside them.

Then, in the distance, not far off the trail, Rarity spotted something unnatural on a tree trunk. Moving in and taking a closer look, Rarity saw that some-pony or some other creature, had carved something into the tree bark. The carving crudely resembled that of a heart. Within the heart shaped outline were with two sets of initials etched within in. The wide, shallow grooves indicated that the bark had been carved a very long time ago, and that the tree had made significant progress in healing its exterior. Rarity turned away from the bitterly ironic picture, and continued through the forest.

Soon enough, Rarity was out of the woods, and into wide open fields. The sun was still just above the horizon. While the grass was short along the boundaries, the plant life grew significantly taller deeper into the meadows. Not wanting to risk walking a longer or more unpleasant route, Rarity continued the way she came. As Rarity entered the path between the tall grass, she noticed the still present signs of her first trip, which took the form of pushed aside plant stems, and even the occasional hoof print. Like before, Rarity observed various other bugs that she had not noticed before, whether they be critters that had come out later, or others that Rarity had successfully ignored the first time. The disharmonious chirping of thousands of crickets and other like bugs dominated the noise. While loud, it was still vaguely musical in its own way, and not entirely unpleasant. Deep within the dark grass were the brief, dim, yellow, bioluminescent flashing of numerous lantern flies. Camouflaged within the grass, Rarity spotted a small toad that she had accidentally provoked, hop away into the brush. As Rarity continued, the shorter the surrounding vegetation became, until the pathway gradually formed back into grassy fields. Just ahead was a wide, well used, public dirt road.

Shaking the loose blades of grass that clung to her hooves, Rarity made her way back down the familiar dirt road that led to her hometown. Walking near, and alongside Rarity were various other ponies, most of whom looked like they were walking home after a long day at work. Not far off the road, Rarity saw a small group of younger ponies, gathered around a large blanket. From what she could see, they might have been cleaning up from an evening meal. Rarity turned her head to look the other way, not wanting to even think about such things.

At long last, Rarity had made it to the edge of Ponyville. By now, the sun had set, and the sky was dark. It would not be much longer until she reached her home. Illuminating the busier suburban roads were the lines of lamp posts that ran along both sides of each street. Within the box of each lamp was a magically sourced fire that burned brightly beneath the darkened skies. Rarity walked by Sugar-Cube Corner, a local bakery and ice cream parlor. It was almost an hour until the establishment closed, and there were still several ponies seated outside on the patio. In yet another ironic twist, all of the seated ponies were in parties on two. All of them were sharing some sort of dessert or baked good, and each of them were seemingly enjoying their partner’s company. Rarity just looked away, lowered her head, and then quickly marched on.

The comfort of seeing the Carousel Boutique could not have come soon enough for Rarity. She unlocked her front door, walked through it, and quickly closed it behind her. Rarity spotted one of her sofas on its side, leaning against the wall with its pillows and cushions laying on the floor. Too tired to care, Rarity walked past the misplaced piece of furniture. She decided that she would move it back to its proper place another time. For now, what Rarity knew she needed more than anything else, was a long, warm bath. She could hardly stand another moment thinking about every disgusting little thing that she might have picked up during her walk. Her tired legs throbbed as she climbed up her stairs to the higher level. She entered her room, where she promptly lifted her hat and saddle bag with her magic, and placed them on an empty rack.

Not wasting any more time, Rarity walked into her bathroom, turned on her tub faucet, and let her bathtub fill with warm water. Once half full, she turned off the water, and added some of her bath salts, and bath soap. At long last, Rarity slipped into her tub, and let out a flustered exhale. It had been the first relief she felt since before she had left her home that day. She spent several moments in a still, silent, pacifism, cleaning her mind of all her troubles. Rarity’s relaxed metal state quickly ended once she remembered all of the work she would need to get done that night to stay on schedule. Once she felt that her mane and body and were adequately cleaned, Rarity left the tub, dried herself off with one of her towels, and made her way to her workshop.

Spike sat alone in his chambers, deep within the cellars of Canterlot Castle. Despite officially taking a day off, Twilight still left him a tall pile of paperwork on his desk for him to complete. Hours after he had arrived back at the castle, Spike was stilling working at his dim, candle lit desk. He was carefully reading over every boring, detailed term of the of a lengthy amendment document pertaining to the trade regulations of Equestria’s international markets. As he read, he wrote his comments and revisions on a separate scroll. After feeling that Twilight would be satisfied with how much of the stack of paperwork he had halfheartedly completed, Spike turned to the long list of chores that Twilight had also left for him on his desk. The castle’s cleaning staff were off duty for the day, so Spike was on his own. Regardless of any help he did or did not get, he had a long night ahead him. After taking out an industrial broom and duster from a custodial closet, Spike got to work cleaning the halls of the lower castle.

Despite his fatigue, Spike could not shake the feeling that he deserved all the work given to him. Especially after he had shirked his duties for his own personal endeavors. Spike though about how foolish Twilight would think his actions today were, and how she would scold him if she were there to confront him. Spike imagined what his day could have been like, had he forsaken his own plans. Spike suddenly started sweeping in an angry vigor. Spike knew that he had something really important that he wanted to do that day. Darned be the thoughts of any creature who through less of him for it. He had taken the day off, and he had the right to spend his own time how he rightfully pleased. No pony had to the right say otherwise, not Twilight, not Celestia, not any of his other friends, not even Rarity.

Spike paused for a moment. Rarity’s name was still hanging heavy in his mind, as were the events earlier that day. For the most part, Spike wished that he had never confessed to Rarity, and had never wasted either their time on that stupid outing. It would have saved them both a lot of trouble. But a small part him had no regret. Despite what happened, that tiny part of Spike felt proud and relieved knowing that he did all he could, and that he still got his chance to confess his feelings. Maybe, just maybe, it was for the best that it all happened, regardless how harsh hearing Rarity words had felt. Spike continued sweeping, making his way down one of the corridors. He wanted to whistle, but he couldn’t think of any tunes he knew of that he was in the mood to make.