Rarity has an awful idea: marry Spike for the weekend to gain entrance into an ultra-exclusive club for socialite couples. Spike has a brilliant idea: go along with it.
Rarity receives an invitation to Equestria’s most exclusive and secretive social club. The only catch is, she can only attend if she brings her lawfully wedded spouse. Fortunately, there’s a certain purple dragon who’s willing to help her overcome this little difficulty. It’s a simple, foolproof plan: get married, attend the club, and then get an annulment. Nothing is ever that simple, however… not their weekend, not their friendship, and certainly not their marriage.
Rarity studied the surface of her work table with pursed lips. Before her there was thread of every color, fabric of every make, and enough paper to chronicle a dozen spring outfit collections. Alas, one critical component was missing: inspiration. The nagging chill of winter wasn’t helping, either.
The thump of her workroom door closing went unnoticed, as did most of what Spike said to her. He was probably just letting her know that he’d taken out the trash like she’d asked. He was such a dear, albeit a bit of a distracting one at times like these.
“Mmm-hmm. Thank you, Spikey.”
She caught bits and pieces of his reply, something about snow outside, and fetching her mail. Details aside, the one constant in his little report would be the final phrase, a question that he never failed to ask: “Can I do anything for you?”
“Could you bring me a scarf, Spikey? I simply can’t think of designs for spring when I’m so cold.”
For a moment, the whole of her attention returned to her work. Something just wasn’t right about this selection of materials. Nothing in front of her screamed ‘spring,’ or even so much as whimpered it. Perhaps she’d have better luck planning next winter’s apparel instead.
A scarf, her favorite wool one no less, found its way onto her shoulders. “Thank you, Spikey. If only my inspiration was that easy to fix. What in Equestria am I missing?”
Rarity didn’t expect Spike to have an answer, but he offered one anyway. “Maybe you just need to take a break. Why don’t you look through your mail instead? There’s this letter with no return address and a weird symbol on the front. It’s really small, but I think it’s supposed to be two blue ponies in a circle. What do you think that mea—”
Fabric swatches and spools of thread clattered to the ground. She stared at him with wide-eyed surprise, or rather, she stared at the letter he’d suddenly felt the need to hold up in self-defense.
“Two… two blue ponies?”
“Y-yeah. See?”
Rarity took the letter and scrutinized the front of it. The tiny emblem was unmistakable, assuming the rumors were to be believed. A bit of magic was all it took to tear open the side of the envelope and remove a single sheet of paper. Her hooves started trembling when she saw the same emblem on the letterhead, and by the time she finished reading the first line, she was laughing.
“They’re real, Spike! The Blue Pony Society is real, and they want to give me a trial membership at a meeting this weekend!”
“Rarity, what—”
Smiling wasn’t enough. Laughing wasn’t, either. She leaped from her chair and danced around the room with Spike in tow. “This is the best day of my life!”
“Same… same here.”
Looking down, Rarity realized just how tightly she was hugging him, and just how much he was blushing. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Spikey. I’m just so excited!”
Once she released him, he fell to the floor like a doll. “I couldn’t tell…”
She trotted back to the table and retrieved the letter. “I suppose I’ve gotten ahead of myself. Let me explain: this symbol is the emblem of The Blue Pony Society, the most secretive and exclusive gathering of high-society ponies in all of Equestria. Until now I assumed it was merely an old pony’s tale, but it’s all right here in the invitation: the club name, the meeting location, the bylaws, the…”
The last paragraph gave her pause. She reread the letter in full, this time paying closer attention to each and every word. “All members are required to bring their…”
The letter slipped from her hooves. “All members are required to bring their… their…”
Spike eventually picked himself, and the letter, off the floor. He glanced from the paper to her shell-shocked expression. “Are you okay, Rarity?”
She shook her head as a tear trickled down her face. “No, I’m afraid not, Spike. It appears I’ve gotten my hopes up for nothing.”
He scanned the letter and eventually found the offending sentence. “‘All members are required to bring their… their lawfully wedded spouse? Proof of marriage may be requested of any prospective member at any…’ You have to be married to be in this club?”
Rarity hung her head. “It appears so. Perhaps they made a mistake, sending an invitation to me. Surely they know I’m not…” Her tears splashed on the floor. “One of the most exclusive gatherings of pony society… joinable only by invitation…”
A tissue box appeared before her. She looked up to see Spike, this time with worry in his eyes instead of the usual reverence and admiration.
“I’m so sorry, Rarity. What can I do to make you feel better? Just name it.”
“Thank you, Spikey, but I think right now, I need some time alone.”
Spike’s face fell, and he nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
Rarity wiped her eyes and watched him leave. Growing up hadn't changed him very much. He was somewhat larger than he used to be; not a giant, by any means, but just tall enough to put them at eye level. Supposedly, that was as tall as he’d ever get without greed fueling his growth. The way he walked, so distraught and depressed, was exactly how she felt. He almost looked like he was the one who’d missed a chance to mingle with the highest ranks of society, rather than her.
Then inspiration struck. A fresh smile formed on her lips, and she gazed longingly at her ever-present helper. “On second thought, could you stay for a moment more, Spikey?”
He whirled around with a cautious smile on his face. “Sure, what is it? Are you feeling better? Can I do something for you?”
Rarity batted her eyelashes at him, which was enough to trigger another blush. “Spike, I have a small… proposal for you.”
Twilight’s answer was monosyllabic and loud. “No!”
Rarity got on her knees, a real feat when the castle library’s floor was buried under a layer of scrolls. “Please reconsider, Twilight! It’s Friday afternoon, Mayor Mare is on vacation, and you, as a Princess of Equestria, are our only hope. It’s only for the weekend, and without Spike by my side I can’t possibly—”
Twilight’s wings flapped wildly, blowing scrolls in her and Spike’s faces. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of! You want me to marry you just for the weekend, and just so you can go to some social club?”
Rarity scowled. “Now see here, Twilight. I’ll admit this isn’t the soundest of plans, but I can’t see why you insist on blowing it out of proportion.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “At his age, it’s barely even legal! Spike, I can’t let you do this. It’s a shallow, terrible idea. Please tell me you—”
Spike dove forward and wrapped his arms around her leg. “Twilight, it’s a wonderful idea! Please marry us? Please let me do this with her?”
“Spike, listen to yourself! It’s completely one-sided. What could you possibly get out of this?”
“Aren’t you always saying we need to help our friends? How is this any different?”
She shook him off her leg and hovered over them. “It’s completely different! You’d be her slave all weekend. Don’t you do that enough already?”
Rarity stomped her hoof. “Twilight Sparkle! I’ll have you know I’ve never forced Spike to do something he’s uncomfortable with, and this is no exception. We talked it over at length, and we agreed that this is what we both want.”
Twilight massaged her temples. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I just can’t believe you could convince somepony to…” Then she saw Spike, looking up at her like she’d torn out his heart. “Spike… Spike, what did she say to you?”
He looked at the floor. “Can we talk for a minute? You know… privately?”
Rarity glanced at the door, the one spot in the library that wasn’t overrun with parchment. “I… I’ll just excuse myself. I’ll be waiting outside if you need me.”
Spike nodded. “Thanks, Rarity.”
Twilight finally landed once she and Spike were alone. She pulled him into a hug. “This is crazy, Spike. I know you like her, but… this isn’t real. It’s all fake. You’re just going to get hurt.”
“Twilight, she didn’t talk me into this,” Spike said.
She stood back and stared at him. “What?”
“Sure, she told me we’d just be married for the weekend and everything, but I said yes right away. Rarity didn’t have to convince me.”
“But…”
Spike gave her a sobering stare. “Twilight, this is a great idea. I get to spend the entire weekend with Rarity, no dressmaking, no distractions, no adventures… just me and her. When am I ever going to get a better shot at her noticing me?”
Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. “Fine. This is a terrible idea, but… fine. Fine. If this is really what you both want, I’ll marry the two of you.”
His leap of joy brought him halfway to the ceiling. “Yes! Thank you, Twilight! Tha—”
“Just get her back in here before I change my mind!”
Spike ran to the door and literally pulled Rarity inside. “She said yes! We’re getting mar—”
Twilight held up a hoof. “Hold it! If this is going to happen, we need to lay out some ground rules.”
Rarity nodded. “Of course, Twilight. I can’t thank you en—”
“Rule number one: this marriage is, by definition, a sham. Spike, you can’t expect Rarity to treat you differently.”
Spike grinned and blushed. “What could possibly be different, just because we’re—”
“Rule number two: this marriage is a sham, but it’s not going to be a one-sided sham. Rarity, you need to actually spend the weekend with Spike. You can’t just strand him in a hotel room while you go off and party. He’s going to be your husband, so you’d better act like you care about his well-being.”
Rarity gasped. “Twilight, how dare you assume I’d abandon him! He’s one of my dearest friends, and I give you my word that he’ll have a lovely time as my husband… within the bounds of decency and reason, of course.”
Spike held up a claw. “Yeah… about that. I’ve… kind of got a special request.”
Rarity scowled at him. “Spike, if you even dare suggest that we consummate the—”
“What? No, no!” His cheeks went so red that the two mares could feel the heat radiating off of him. “It’s nothing like that. If we’re getting married… I want to propose, and exchange rings.”
This time it was Rarity's turn to blush. She stared at Spike and held a hoof up to her mouth. “That… that probably isn’t a good idea, Spikey. What with this being a sham…”
Twilight’s magic lifted them both off the ground. She trotted to the door with them floating in front of her like netted fish. “That’s a fantastic idea! It’ll get you both out of my hair so I can draw up the paperwork.”
Rarity flailed an ineffectual hoof. “But, Twilight—”
“You heard your soon-to-be husband, Rarity. Now get out of here and don’t come back until you’re engaged.”
---
Spike’s drool-covered tongue came within an inch of the jewelry cases, drawing a look of apprehension from Ponyville’s only jeweler.
“Spikey, we’re not in a candy store,” Rarity said.
“Sorry! They just all look so delicious.”
She waved the jeweler over and tapped on the nearest case of rings. “We need to purchase a few… items.”
Spike nodded. “Yeah, an engagement ring and two wedding bands.”
The jeweler gave Spike a second, worried look. “I… see. What style of rings did you have in mind, Miss?”
“No gems on his, for starters,” Rarity said.
Spike glared at her. “Hey, I’d never eat our wedding rings!”
She leaned over the counter and whispered,. “Secondly, it’s important that the rings have an… excellent return policy.”
The jeweler’s next look of incredulity was directed squarely at her.
A few minutes of awkward stares and a few thousand bits on credit later, Rarity held three velvet boxes in her hooves. “Here we are, Spikey. The smallest box is the engagement ring you selected, so if we could please go back to—”
Spike grabbed the box and dropped down to one knee. “Rarity, I’d like to ask you something… something very important.”
She’d seen the ring sitting in the jewelry case ten minutes ago, and tried it on for size twice. Still, when he opened the little box and revealed the shining gold band ringed with sapphires and diamonds, Rarity could feel her heart begin to pound.
He pulled the ring out of the box and held it up. “You mean everything to me, Rarity, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
She blushed. Sham or no, Spike certainly knew how to put some production into a proposal. It was almost as if he’d been practicing.
“Y-yes, Spike. I’ll marry you, provided—” She held up a hoof to prevent him from moving the ring any closer. “—provided you make the timeframe perfectly clear.”
He bowed down and held up the ring again. “You mean everything to me, Rarity. I want to… guess I have to skip that. Will you marry me for… for…”
“For the weekend?”
Spike nodded and whispered. “…for the weekend?”
Smiling, she leaned down and touched her horn to his forehead. “Yes, Spikey. Yes I will.”
Moments later, Rarity felt the engagement ring slide over her horn and come to rest against her mane and forehead. The weight of it, both physical and emotional, was unmistakable. She could still hear Twilight’s emphatic refusals, and was almost willing to give in to them. Almost.
“Rarity? Are you okay? Can we go get married now?”
Rarity hadn’t realized her eyes were closed. When she opened them, she found Spike standing in front of her, dancing from one foot to the other with a big grin on his face. His excitement was obvious and, she had to admit, slightly contagious. “I suppose we should, Spikey, now that you’ve properly proposed. Shall we proceed with the marriage?”
Thankfully, the jeweler was out of sight as they left the shop. She didn’t want to know what he thought of them, let alone what his reaction would be when she returned the rings the following Monday.
---
When Spike and Rarity returned to the castle, Twilight was in a much better mood. She smiled and welcomed them in, almost as if their previous argument had never taken place.
“Rarity, Spike, come in. I take it that that ring means you’re engaged?”
“We sure are!” Spike said with a big smile.
Rarity nodded. “Indeed. You seem much more… amicable to our arrangement than you did before, Twilight.”
Twilight smiled and shook her head. “Not really, but I decided it’s not worth getting upset over. If this is what you both want, then who am I to stand in the way? Besides, if I don’t marry you, you’ll end up at some sleazy trot-in chapel in Las Pegasus.”
Rarity clenched her teeth. “Your disapproval is noted, Twilight. Now, if you please?”
“Yes, let’s,” Twilight said.
Twilight led them to the center of the library, where she’d set up a small podium in the midst of the sea of parchment. She seated herself behind the podium and produced a long scroll and quill.
Spike shuffled his way to Rarity’s side. “I’m afraid to ask, but why is the library covered in—”
“Emergency filing project,” Twilight said, “Something I expected to have my number-one assistant helping me with all weekend.”
“Eh-heh. Yeah… Sorry.”
“We’ll just sort it all out when this is over. Now, please approach the podium with your… fiancée. We’ve got work to do.”
Rarity gave Spike her hoof and allowed him to lead her to the podium. “Surely there’s just a paper we both need to si—”
Twilight pounded a hoof on the podium. “Do you want to get married or not?” She held up the scroll, which was covered in the tiny script that plagued every legal document. “This is a standard marriage contract with an additional addendum at the bottom; the marriage can be completely nullified with the written agreement of all parties involved. Just sign on your respective lines right here, and we’ll repeat the process when you get back.”
Spike dove forward and grabbed the quill. “You’ve got it!”
Rarity was a tad more hesitant to approach the wall of legalese. Still, she couldn’t let Twilight’s eerily complacent attitude spook her, not when a chance at joining The Blue Pony Society was at stake.
She took the quill with her magic and signed her name on the line labeled ‘mare.’ There was one empty line left, and it was labeled ‘officiant.’
“There we are,” Rarity said. “Now, if you could just add your own signature, Twilight, we’ll be on our—”
Twilight sighed and shook her head. “According to Equestrian law, we have to do a basic ceremony, too. Just stand there and answer the questions. Spike, do you take this mare, Rarity, to be your lawfully wedded wife, and promise to care for her as long as you both shall live?”
Spike grinned. “I do!”
“Great. Rarity, do you take this dragon, Spike, to be your lawfully wedded husband, and promise to care for him as long as you both shall live?”
Rarity looked from Spike to Twilight; the very definitions of glee and annoyance. “Surely the lifelong part isn’t necessary, given the nature of our arr—”
Sparks flew out of Twilight’s horn. “This is the most platonic marriage vow I could find, and I’m not going to butcher it any more than I already have!”
Rarity glared at her. “Very well. I do.”
“Fantastic. I pronounce you dragon and mare. You may kiss the bride.”
Rarity knew that Twilight was expecting another objection, but she wasn’t going to give one. She turned to Spike, who didn’t seem to be breathing, and locked lips with him. She didn’t have much kissing experience, despite what a bookish pony such as Twilight likely thought, but Spike didn’t seem to demand much in the way of technique. Touching their lips together was enough; if he’d been blushing any more, he would’ve burst to flames.
The kiss ended five seconds later, when Spike’s knees buckled. Reducing him to a heap on the floor, and in full view of Twilight, was satisfying for all the wrong reasons. This wasn’t something a lady would do, not under any circumstance. Rarity would have to be on her best behavior this weekend, if only to compensate for this moment of pettiness and malice.
“Here,” Twilight whispered.
Rarity turned to see the marriage contract floating next to her, complete with all the requisite signatures.
Twilight had collapsed on the podium, as if signing her name had sapped all her energy. “You did it, you’re married.”
“Thank you, Twilight.”
“Rarity?”
“Yes?”
“Be… be good to him.”
Rarity smiled. “Of course, Twilight. We’ll have a lovely weekend away, and I’ll return him to you no worse for wear.”
Spike, who was still splayed on the floor, smiled as well. “It’s going to be the best weekend ever.”
Rarity couldn’t argue with that. One of the most exclusive social circles of all, save for royalty, was inviting her in. With Spike by her side, she was going to go places that she’d only ever dreamed of, and so help her, she’d act like a lady every step of the way.
The train chugged quietly through the night. Through her window, Rarity could see the lights of Canterlot fast approaching, as well as the generous amount of snow covering the surrounding mountains. The view was picturesque, and unfortunately, a bit colder than it needed to be.
“Spike, please stop fanning me. I’m getting a chill.”
A palm frond dropped out of Spike’s hands and landed on Rarity’s seat. She had no idea where he’d acquired such a thing, let alone the growing collection of gifts piling up on the seat next to her. It looked like he’d procured every heart-shaped object within a one-mile radius.
“S-sorry, Rarity!” Spike stammered. “Do you need a blanket, or another cup of tea? I can use my fire breath to make it as hot as you want.”
“That won’t be necessary, Spikey. You’ve done more than enough already.”
Spike sat down across from her and grinned. “Sorry, I’m just so excited. I mean, I know it’s just pretend and all, but… we’re married!”
He held up his left hand and let the gold ring on his finger catch the moonlight. “We’re married, and we’re spending the whole weekend together.”
Rarity felt the weight of the two rings on her horn bearing down on her forehead. The engagement ring was heavy enough; the wedding band felt like gold-plated lead. “Thank you for agreeing to this, Spike. I’d like to apologize for putting you in such a strange position, especially in regards to Twilight.”
Spike’s grin faltered. “I’m sorry she got so upset but… I really wanted to do this with you.”
Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You want to mingle with the upper crust of society?”
“I… uh… sure! So long as it’s with you.”
“Well, I do have to agree that this will be a better experience with a dear friend by my side.”
The squeak of brakes cut off Spike’s reply and signaled the end of the journey. He was on his feet as soon as the train came to a stop. “I’ll get all the bags, you don’t have to lift a… whoa.”
The view outside the window left them both in a trance. They’d stopped at the the edge of a massive estate. Twin lines of manicured trees guarded a long, stone walkway separating the train station from a six-story mansion. Even in the moonlight, they could see the lush gardens, marble statues, tennis courts, golf courses, and croquet lawns surrounding the building. Canterlot castle was sparse and homely by comparison.
“Are you sure this is our stop?” Spike asked.
A door opened at the front of the train car and the conductor made his way through. “Manesfield Park Hotel and Resort, all off for Manesfield Park. The next stop will be Canterlot station.”
Rarity jumped out of her seat, sending gifts flying. “Hurry, Spike! The epitome of high society awaits!”
Ten minutes later, her hooves clopped quietly on hardwood floors. The mansion was even more impressive on the inside. Chandeliers composed entirely of crystal cast an ever-changing rainbow of light on the antique furniture and well-dressed ponies that inhabited the main hall. It took a good deal of self-control not to skip, or even smile too broadly. Decorum. High Society. That was the order of the day, and would remain so for as long as they dwelt here.
The reception desk was polished to a mirror shine. Reaching up to ring the bell, and possibly smudge its finish, grated against Rarity’s sense of perfection. A voice called to her before she got the chance.
“Rarity! How lovely to see you again.” A tall, elegant unicorn with a glistening white coat and a light pink mane trotted over. “I don’t suppose you remember me from the Canterlot Garden Party all those years back?”
Rarity bowed. “Why of course I do, Fleur Dis Lee; how could I forget?”
“Please, call me Fleur. I trust you received my… invitation?” Her wink said it all.
Rarity beamed. “Yes, and I can’t begin to describe how overjoyed it made me. I’ve heard rumors of the club, of course, but seeing the actual emblem of—”
Fleur silenced her with a slight raise of a hoof. “We take our privacy very seriously. I trust you read through all the finer points of the invitation?”
Rarity nodded. “Of course! In fact, my—” After a quick look around the room, she located Spike, or rather the slow-moving mountain of luggage that he was at the base of. “—my dear, sweet husband is just bringing in our bags now.”
She raced over to him and undid the clasp on one of the saddlebags. The invitation and the ever-important marriage license floated out in her magic grasp. She returned to Fleur’s side just as the luggage mountain collapsed, engulfing a nearby bellhop in the process.
“As you can see, I am indeed married.”
Fleur laughed and pushed the papers away. “Oh Rarity, the note about needing to provide proof is merely a formality, one that hasn’t been exercised in years, I might add. As if anypony would fake being married.”
Rarity forced herself to giggle. “Indeed. How… how silly.”
Spike climbed his way out of the pile of luggage and twitching bellhop limbs. “I… I think that’s all the bags, Rarity.”
Fleur’s eyes lit up. “Ah, and is this your husband?”
Rarity nodded. “Yes. Spikey dearest, I’d like you to meet Fleur. She’s the one who sent us the invitation.”
Spike, to his credit and Rarity’s relief, bowed low and kissed Fleur’s outstretched hoof. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fleur. I’m Spike.”
Fleur smiled. “Aren’t you the charmer! How long have the two of you been married?”
Rarity opened her mouth, but not fast enough.
“About four hours,” Spike said.
Fleur reared up on two legs. “Hours? Why didn’t you say so?”
She rapped on the reception desk, summoning three attendants. “See to it that my friends are upgraded to the honeymoon suite.”
Rarity gasped. “Oh, that’s too kind of you, Fleur. I assure you it isn’t—”
“I insist! My husband, Fancy Pants, owns this whole resort. Consider it a wedding present.”
A unicorn attendant stepped around the desk with two heart-shaped keys. “Shall I show you to your accommodations? Please allow us to handle the bags, sir.”
Spike breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally. Lead the way, my good pony.”
As Spike walked away, Rarity felt a hoof on her shoulder. Fleur leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Married to a dragon! I must say, I’m surprised. It’s rare to find a pony that’s… into that sort of thing. One of these days, you simply must tell me more.”
Once again, Fleur’s wink said it all.
Rarity could hear herself speaking, although the syllables involved didn’t form any actual words. She backed up, slowly at first, and finally managed a coherent “goodnight” before turning to run.
Try as she might, Rarity couldn’t outrun her shame. She had to settle for catching up with Spike, who’d just been handed a key to their room. “Spike, wait. We simply must go back to the front desk and demand the two rooms I originally res—” Then she saw the bellhop next to the stack of luggage. “—err, what I mean to say is… is…”
The bellhop tossed her the other key. “It’s really no trouble, Ma’am. I guarantee that it’d take more luggage than this to fill up the suite. There’s no need for a second room when you have a full walk-in closet at your disposal.”
She sighed. “Thank you. I believe my… my husband and I can take things from here.”
“Of course. Have a good night.”
Rarity stumbled into their room and sat on the floor. Calling this a honeymoon suite was very apt. Everything, from the bedspread to the oversized dresser to the hand towels, was decorated with red hearts. She dragged a hoof against the matching heart inlays in the hardwood floor. Surely this can’t get any worse.
Spike ran past her and jumped on the bed. “Cool, they gave us a box of chocolates and a bottle of cider!”
Rarity watched him rifling through the box on the bed, wishing more than anything that she could borrow some of his excitement. “Spike, about the sleeping arrangements…”
Spike froze. “Oh… oh, right! I’ll sleep on that couch over there, it looks comfy.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as he’d vacated the bed, Rarity collapsed on it, face down. The silk sheets might as well have been sandpaper. “This is the most unladylike thing I’ve ever done. Why did I think this was a good idea?”
She felt the mattress sink as Spike sat down next to her. “It is a good idea, Rarity. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, we’ll spend tomorrow together with the elites, and then on Sunday we’ll catch the train back home. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you have a good time. Want some chocolate?”
She rolled onto her side and nodded. “You’re such a dear, Spike, putting up with this crazy scheme of mine.”
He reached into the sizable box and held out a chocolate oat truffle, her favorite. “So… what exactly are we doing tomorrow, anyway?”
Rarity mulled this over while she chewed. “Well, it is a high-society function. I expect the usual: tea parties, croquet, exchanging pleasantries…”
“What do I need to do?”
She looked into his eyes and smiled. “Why Spikey, you’re my husband; I need you by my side for every waking moment.”
He grinned, and, unless she was mistaken, blushed a little. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
---
A good night’s sleep did wonders for Rarity. Before the sun rose, she was up and in the midst of the most important part of any morning: deciding what to wear. The walk-in closet could have been better described as a second bedroom lined with coat racks. If it wasn’t for her wardrobe, she’d have had Spike sleep in there instead.
She paced from rack to rack, surveying the small subset of her dress collection that she’d brought along. If only she’d been able to fit more in her bags. Choosing between a mere thirty dresses for such an auspicious occasion just felt wrong. No matter; for The Blue Pony Society, she’d just have to throw something together.
Finally, Rarity pulled a gown from its hanger and slipped into it. The jewels sewn into the hem sparkled, even in the dim light of the closet. Was this one too much? She couldn’t let her sense of fashion outshine one of the other club members. Or was it too little? She couldn’t risk being a drab little pony, forgotten the moment the meeting ended. Her impression needed to be one of inclusion, one that showed that she belonged among them and nowhere else.
Something shiny caught Rarity’s eye. She walked to a nearby folding table and stared at the two velvet boxes resting on it. At least this part of her ensemble was ready-made. She slipped the rings onto her horn and turned to the full-length mirror.
She held out a hoof to make her reflection’s acquaintance. “Charmed; I am Rarity… Rarity, fashionista and dress designer.” Her gaze drifted back to the rings and she struck a pose. “That’s Mrs. Rarity, fashionista and dress designer extraordinaire. And this is my dashing husband, Sp—”
The closet door slid open and Rarity screamed, “Spike! Out!”
The door slammed shut and Spike’s tearful voice drifted through a moment later. “I’m so, so sorry, Rarity! I-I just woke up and heard you talking and… wait… why is this a big deal?”
She rested her head against the mirror, partly to avoid seeing her own reddening face. “Excuse me?”
“I mean… I know you design dresses and everything, but… we don’t wear clothes all the time,” Spike said.
Rarity sighed. “I suppose it is a rather strange social norm. Spike, in higher society, certainly higher than Ponyville at least, the act of getting dressed and undressed is considered… rather intimate.”
He gasped. “Gosh, I never thought of… I’m so sorry!”
“Please, don’t be. Just give me a moment to—”
It seemed Rarity’s magic had gained its own sense of irony. Try as she might, her gown wouldn’t cooperate. “Spike? Are you still there?”
“Y-yes?” Spike stammered.
“Could you…” She knocked her head against the mirror again. “…Could you please come help me? My zipper is stuck.”
“…And you want me to—”
“Yes, and then never mention this again, should you value your life.”
The rest of the morning routine was mercifully mundane. After a few hours of makeup and manestyling, Rarity was ready to go. Spike, thankfully, required almost no prep time at all. The outfit she’d brought for him, a black suit jacket and white tie, was the finest thing she’d ever seen him wear. Best of all, it didn’t have any hard-to-reach zippers.
She placed a hoof on the door handle and took one last look at him. “Ready to go, Spikey-Wikey?”
He nodded and smiled wide. “You bet! I’ll be by your side the whole time, just like you said.”
“Thank you. Just remember that we’re going to be mingling with the elite of the elite today; we both need to be on our absolute best behavior. Today we must be a husband and wife that clearly deserve permanent membership in The Blue Pony Society,” Rarity said.
“Got it. Oh, then let me get that, dearest.”
Spike rushed forward and opened the door for her. She couldn’t help but smile as she walked into the hall. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Regardless of her standing as a lady, he certainly knew how to treat her like one.
That thought ceased when Fleur exited a room two doors down and rushed over. “Good morning, Rarity, Spike. I trust your night was… enjoyable?”
Rarity didn’t have enough willpower to force a convincing smile. Instead, she turned to Spike and gave him the biggest kiss her lips could manage. He rocked back on his heels, but kept contact, and matched technique, for the precious seconds she needed to scrape a few words together.
Finally, she turned back to Fleur and smiled. “I… I can’t complain. Right, Spikey?”
Spike gave a dreamy nod. “I definitely can’t.”
Fleur giggled. “I’m so glad. I was actually on my way to our meeting. Would the two of you care to accompany me?”
Rarity nodded. “That would be lovely. Come along, dear.”
Spike did as she asked, and together, they followed Fleur down the hallway. The only saving grace to this situation, if it could be called that, was the marriage license. Rarity and Spike were in fact married; in the sight of law and society, she was free to kiss him as often as she liked, and he certainly hadn’t offered up any sort of complaint on the matter. Still, she couldn’t keep forcing herself on him like this. His feelings, whatever they were, needed to be respected.
At least Rarity wasn’t married to the Spike of a few years ago, the dragon who’d barely been able to conceal his little crush on her. Those times were in the past, thankfully. The Spike of today was a dependable friend who went out of his way to help others, even when they, such as herself, clearly didn’t deserve it. How could she make this awkward weekend up to him? A nice dinner, or a gem-hunting trip, perhaps? She’d have to mull it over once she’d escaped Fleur’s prurient gaze.
She shut her eyes tight. The Blue Pony Society, Rarity. Make a good impression, cement your position amongst the elite, possibly secure future dressmaking business, and get out. This can still be a wonderful weekend. This meeting will make it so.
Rarity opened her eyes just in time to avoid bumping into Fleur. They’d stopped in front of a set of ornate double doors that were carved with beautiful depictions of ponies at a fancy dress ball.
Fleur leaned against one of the doors and smiled. “Welcome to The Blue Pony Society.”
Fleur opened the door and ushered them inside. The banquet hall was every bit as grand as its entrance suggested. Five other couples were seated at a rectangular table that appeared to be one solid piece of carved wood inlaid with jewels.
The ponies, of course, were the real sight to see. Fancy Pants was seated in the center of the table next to Fleur’s empty seat, as expected. The other guests were a veritable who’s who of Equestrian elite. At last, Rarity’s excitement returned and, thanks to Spike, she didn’t have to keep it completely bottled up.
As they walked towards the table, she whispered to him, “Spike! There’s Fancy Pants, and there’s the pony of ceremonies from the last five Canterlot Garden Parties, and his wife, the head of the Society for the Appreciation of Under-Appreciated Art, and—”
“Look, there’s our place!” Spike said.
Rarity followed his gaze and nearly fainted. There, in the center of the crowd, were two empty seats with place cards in front of them: one card with her name, and one with his. They’d finally arrived.
Fleur rushed to the head of the table. She tapped a spoon against the nearest teacup and extended a welcoming hoof. “Everypony, I’d like to present our prospective members: Rarity, and her husband, Spike.” She beckoned them forward. “Would the two of you care to introduce yourselves before we begin?”
All eyes were on them in an instant. Rarity’s many prepared introductions came to mind, but, as she’d secretly hoped, none of them were needed. One of the other members stood up and clapped. “Surely everypony here already knows Rarity, the famed fashion designer?”
Gasps and excited murmurs swept around the table.
Rarity curtsied. “Thank you. It’s an honor to be in your presence, and even more so for my reputation to precede me.”
Fancy Pants smiled and adjusted his monocle. “It’s indeed a pleasure to see you again, although I confess I’m not familiar with your husband’s place in the world.”
Rarity kissed Spike on the cheek. “This is my esteemed husband, Spike. He’s the assistant to none other than Princess Twilight Sparkle, and a close personal friend of Princess Celestia.”
A fresh wave of excited chatter followed as they took their seats. Fancy Pants quelled it a moment later by standing. “Now that we’re all present and the doors are locked, I’d like to call this meeting of The Blue Pony Society to order. We’ve already introduced our guests, which means we can proceed with the schedule of events. After brunch, we’ll partake in the traditional—”
Something silver and white sailed through the air and landed in his face with a splat. Whipped cream splattered across the table and decorated neighboring ponies; he’d been hit by a pie.
Rarity’s heart nearly stopped. Her seconds-long gasp was echoed by Spike and the others. Who would dare? Was this the work of a disgruntled cook? Didn’t he just announce the doors were locked?
Fancy Pants removed the pie pan from his face and shook the filling off his monocle. Fleur’s deep laugh announced her position at the far end of the room, next to a cart piled high with cream pies. She was rolling on the floor and laughing hysterically. “So sorry to interrupt your speech, dear, ha ha!”
Rarity raised her hooves to her mouth, resisting the urge to chew on them. What would he say? What could even be done to salvage decorum and decency from a pie being thrown in the face of the host?
Fancy Pants broke into a grin and started laughing. “Well, we had planned on saving the pie fight for this afternoon, but given that opening volley…” He retreated to an identical cart on the opposite side of the room, and the rest of the members quickly chose sides. Pies flew left and right, some propelled by magic, others by simple hoof throws. In seconds, the whole of the room disintegrated into a snowstorm of whipped cream.
Rarity and Spike were still seated at the table, neither one able to process what was happening. He flicked a bit of crust off his arm and touched her hoof. “But… But you said these were the most elite—”
“Pinch me.”
“Huh?”
Rarity stomped a hoof on her chair. “Pinch me! This is a nightmare that I’d very much like to wake up from!”
Fleur ran over to them with a fresh pie floating by her side, and the remains of many more dripping from her coat. She could barely talk through her guffaws. “Isn’t this wonderful, Rarity? We’re out of the public eye, and we can finally be ourselves!”
Rarity didn’t know how to reply, which seemed to be a developing pattern when it came to Fleur. “This… I don’t know how to…”
Fleur set the pie she’d brought between them. “I know it’s a bit of a shock, getting to act this natural in front of near-strangers. Trust me, you’ll have the most fun if you simply dive right in. You do wish to join our social circle, don’t you?”
Rarity found herself nodding. “Yes, yes I do. Spike… would you be a dear and… throw that pie in my face?”
Spike opened his mouth wide enough to swallow the pie whole. “You want me to… to…”
She cringed. “Yes.”
With a shaking claw, he picked up the pie pan and moved it towards her. It happened in slow motion, and not just because of her dread. Whole seconds passed as he moved the pie closer and closer until, at long last, whipped cream smeared across the side of her face. The mere thought, let alone the feeling, of pie filling oozing through her expertly coiffed mane, perfectly groomed coat, and hoof-made gown made her shiver. There wasn’t enough shampoo and conditioner in the world to undo this feeling, not even if she lived out the remainder of her days in a bathtub.
Worse still was the sound that followed, the sound of Fleur laughing and clapping her hooves. “Well done, Spike, but you’ve made a serious mistake.”
Spike looked around in a panic, as if he’d been caught committing a heinous crime. “B-but she asked me to! I s-swear!”
Fleur grinned and shook her head. “You’ve forgotten to pick a side, which means you’re both fair game to all of us.”
Right on queue, a barrage of desserts flew at them from all sides. The world vanished in a sticky white mess to the sound of ponies laughing.
A few minutes later, when the ammunition ran out, the club members stumbled their way back to the table amid cheers and laughter. Fancy Pants nearly slipped out of his seat, which elicited a fresh round of tittering.
“Now, as I was saying—” He took a moment to wipe off his monocle and stifle his own laughter. “—our itinerary consists of the pie fight originally scheduled for the end of the day, limbo, piñatas, Pin the Tail on the Pony, bobbing for apples…”
Rarity wanted to faint, and under normal circumstances, she would have faked it. Instead, she had to settle for the slightly more lady-like option: wait for the lunch break, and then excuse herself for not feeling well.
---
Rarity couldn’t even hear herself crying anymore. The only sounds that remained were the hiss of the shower head and the rustle of the brush scraping through her mane. Water wasn’t enough, no matter how hot. She’d exhausted her personal collection of soaps and moved on to the horror of the little bottles provided by the resort. Still, she didn’t feel clean. She’d have to cut off her mane. She’d have to shave off all her fur.
After wrenching the brush free, she threw it across the room. It knocked against the door of the steam-filled bathroom and clattered to the floor. The long, purple hairs caught in its bristles were still sticky with whatever vile substance those pies had been filled with; glue or chewing gum were her best guesses.
“Rarity? Are you in here? I’ve got my eyes closed, I swear.” One of Spike’s hands appeared between the nearly closed door and the wall.
She broke into a fresh sob. “Go away. I don’t wish to be seen!”
“But you’re crying, and you’re missing everything.”
“Everything? Ha! What tomfoolery are they engaged in now?”
“Please, can I just come in to talk?” Spike pleaded.
“No! It isn’t decent to— ” Rarity shook her head and her wet mane flew in her face. “—argh! Fine! Yes, come in!”
Somewhere in the sauna of a bathroom was her monogrammed robe. Instead of looking for it, she turned off the water and draped a towel over her body. Was that even necessary? Decency certainly didn’t matter to Fleur and her club of elite partygoers. If that was how the top tier of society acted, why should she even bother with trivial acts of modesty?
The door creaked open and Spike entered. He had one arm over his eyes and the other held out in front to check for obstacles. “I know this is weird, I just don’t want you to be unhappy. I thought maybe if we could just talk…”
“You can look, Spike. As you said this morning, we… don’t normally wear clothes. I distinctly remember times when we’ve been out with our friends in the rain, despite my objections…”
An eternity seemed to pass before Spike actually lowered his arm. When he finally did, Rarity knew exactly what he saw: a pony, soaking wet, sitting in the shower with a tangled mane and hopelessly mussed coat. She didn’t even want to see herself, let alone his reaction to her present state.
To her surprise, he didn’t react at all. He sat on the ground next to the shower door and hugged his knees. “Want to talk?”
“Not particularly… but I suppose I must, since you’ve dragged yourself away from whatever horrible game they’re playing now.”
“You missed a crazy game of Pin the Tail on the Pony. Fancy Pants almost pinned it on Fleur. Twice.”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “What is wrong with these ponies? I can’t fathom why they’re dying to act like foals, although I can certainly see why they keep it a secret. They should’ve invited Pinkie Pie instead of me; she’d be right at home.”
“Heh, yeah.”
Spike inched closer and touched the edge of her mane. “What happened?”
“You were there, Spike.”
“Not the pie fight… there’s this big knot in your hair.”
She sighed. “I suppose that’s why my brush was getting stuck. I’m half tempted to cut it all off.”
He jumped up. “What? No, I can… I mean, may I?”
“Hmm? May you what?”
“Untangle it?”
Rarity turned up her nose. “I fail to see what finesse you can muster that I can’t.”
Spike held up a hand and touched each claw together in sequence. “Thumbs.”
“Very well… I don’t suppose I need to repeat my earlier threats against your life. What happens here shall not leave this room.”
He stood next to her and tugged on the tight spot in her mane. “What is this? Gummy candy and pie crust?”
“Whatever it is, I’d very much like it removed.”
“No problem.”
Rarity lowered her head to the floor while he worked. “Thank you, Spikey. I… I don’t deserve a friend like you, not after how I’ve behaved. It’s just as well I excused myself from the meeting.”
“It’s okay, Rarity, really. I get that this isn’t how you wanted things to turn out. I’ve… kind of been having a good time, though.”
“Oh? I suppose you care for silly party games more than I do.”
“It’s more than that, but… never mind. Everypony at the meeting missed you after you left. They were hoping you’d feel well enough to come back before they called it a day.”
The tightness on her scalp subsided, and a few newly freed hairs tickled her ears. “That feels simply amazing, Spikey. As for the club… I don’t know about you, but I clearly don’t belong there. Let me do something for you instead; perhaps there’s a restaurant that caught your eye, or an interesting shop?”
She could feel Spike’s claws trembling. “R-really? For me?”
“Of course. Even if this whole weekend had gone swimmingly, there would still be the matter of me repaying you for your tremendous generosity. Based on how it’s actually gone… well…” Rarity looked at him and smiled. “What would you like?”
Wants aside, Spike looked like he was about to need chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. “I… uh…”
“Or we could take an earlier train back home, if you’d rather put this mess behind us.”
He found his voice with a great gasp. “Let’s stay. Let’s stay and do something together. We can find a restaurant like you said, or we could order room service.”
“Based on the state of my mane, perhaps room service would be the best op—”
There was a knock on the door, followed by the dreaded voice of Fleur. “Spike? Rarity? May I have a word?”
Rarity threw off the towel and dug through her belongings for a bathrobe. “J-just a minute!”
A few seconds later she was dressed in her robe and poised at the door. “Spikey, dear, are you decent?”
He stumbled out of the bathroom with her towel on his head. “Kind of.”
She put on a smile and turned the door knob. No matter how awful the club was, Fleur was still a member of the upper crust, a pony worth maintaining a rapport with. “So good to see you again, Fleur. I’m sorry I needed to excuse myself.”
Fleur waved off the apology. “That isn’t needed, Rarity. Would you mind terribly if I came in for a moment?”
Rarity shook her head and beckoned her inside. She already knew how the scene was going to look. She and Spike were soaking wet, the bathroom was full of steam, and she didn’t care. Fleur could think and say what she liked.
Fleur gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Rarity. Everypony was sad to see you go.”
Rarity frowned. “I suppose that should be flattering. In truth, Fleur, your little club isn’t at all what I expected.”
“I gathered, although in time I think you’ll come to realize that that’s the best part.”
“What do you mean?”
Fleur sat down on the nearest chair. “Rarity, there’s a specific reason this organization is strictly for married members of high society. All of us have high-profile, high-stress jobs that place a great deal of strain on the bonds of marriage. These little get-togethers and their silly competitive events are like special dates and relationship therapy sessions rolled into one. Fancy and I owe our strong relationship to the occasional mock fight.”
Rarity stared at her, open-mouthed. “I… I don’t suppose I considered the reason for the marriage rule…”
Fleur stood and hugged her again. “I won’t keep you and Spike, not when you could be enjoying your honeymoon in peace. In a few years, you’ll come to value retreats like this, the chance to throw cares to the wind and laugh with your husband.”
Spike walked over from across the room. “Years?”
“Yes, Spike, years. Oh, you missed Fancy’s concluding remarks, didn’t you? It’s my pleasure to welcome you both into The Blue Pony Society. You’ll be receiving regular invitations from here on, including more normal events like art exhibitions and fancy dress balls. Still, you’ll find that the heart of the club is in closed-door meetings like this one.”
Fleur walked to the door, glanced back at them, and winked. “Have a lovely honeymoon. I’ll be in touch.”
Spike waved goodbye. “Th-thanks.”
Once they were alone, he turned to Rarity. “We… we did it! We got you into The Blue Pony Society!”
Rarity didn’t know what to say, and at the moment, she was smiling too much for words to come out properly. “S-Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“I… I promised myself I would show greater respect for your feelings for the remainder of the weekend, so I’ll ask first: would you mind terribly if I hugged you and we danced around the room? Otherwise I fear I might explode.”
He spread his arms wide. “Of course we can, dea—”
That was all the provocation she needed. In an instant, Rarity was sailing around the room on two hooves with the other two wrapped around him. Words couldn’t describe her joy; even if she never went to another one of these ‘special’ meetings, which was a distinct possibility, she’d achieved one of the highest social ranks.
“We did it, Spikey! Thank you! Thank you so—”
A small kiss on her cheek brought the dance to a standstill. She’d done that and worse to him more times than she’d care to count, and yet, being on the receiving end felt entirely different. She stepped back and giggled. “Why Spike, that was… unexpected.”
He touched his claws together and blushed. “S-sorry, I just felt… felt like we—”
She smiled and held up a hoof. “There’s no need to apologize, Spikey-Wikey. I know this whole ordeal has us both out of sorts. If you’d be so kind as to finish saving my mane, let’s leave the past behind us, order room service, and spend time together. That is something you wanted to do this weekend, isn’t it?”
He smiled, although perhaps not as brightly as a moment ago. “That… that sounds great.”
Rarity stared out the train window at the passing scenery, all of which was covered in a fresh layer of snow. Early morning sunlight cast long shadows through the car, and the quiet conversation of the other travelers was barely audible over the click-clack of wheels on tracks. Her companion and, for the remainder of the trip, husband, was unusually quiet. Somehow, her every effort to entertain him the previous night had fallen flat. He smiled and laughed, of course, but the touch of sadness in his voice was unmistakable to a good friend such as herself. That morning, the sadness was unmistakable to anypony who talked to him.
She took the two rings off her horn and let them float in front of her eyes. Wearing them now felt rather silly, and yet, she’d put them on that morning as if she’d worn them for years. Not wearing them now felt strange, to say the least.
“We’re almost home, Spikey.”
He kept staring out the window, just as he’d been doing since they boarded. “Yeah.”
“I know I’ve said it already, but thank you. Thank you for agreeing to this selfish, awful plan of mine. I can honestly say that the time I spent with you was the best part.”
Finally, Spike perked up. He took his eyes off the window for the first time in an hour and looked at her. “Really?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’m just glad this charade of a marriage is finally over; it’s without question, the worst…”
His face fell, and Rarity stopped cold. He twisted the ring off his finger and threw it at her. “Just take it; take the ring back.”
“I-I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t mean to imply being married to you—”
“Well you did!” His shout startled some of the nearby passengers. He glanced around and spoke quietly, albeit with the same harsh tone. “Maybe Twilight was right after all… I should’ve said no.”
Rarity rolled his ring between her hooves, feeling its residual warmth. “I can’t recall the last time you turned down one of my requests… Why not this time? Why go along with my shallow, one-sided idea? That was how Twilight put it, wasn’t it?”
“Because…” He hung his head. “… it wasn’t supposed to be one-sided. I just didn’t get what I wanted.”
“Spike, whatever do you mean?”
Spike folded his arms and turned away. “We got to spend the whole weekend together, I stood by you like I always do, and I got to do stuff with you that—” He could feel her stern gaze burning a hole in him. “—that I’ll never ever talk about. I thought maybe this weekend you’d get to know me better, and maybe even… maybe see me the way I see you. I guess I shouldn’t have kissed you like that…”
Rarity held a hoof up to her mouth and her ears folded back. “Spike… but it’s been years since… I assumed your boyhood crush was long over. If I’d known—”
“Of course I still care about you! How could I stop? I’ve just gotten patient… even when you fell in love with… him.” The last word came out as a growl.
She leaned closer, assuming she’d missed the name. “Who?”
Spike squeezed the seat until his claws punctured the cushion. “Trenderhoof.”
She bit her lip. “Trend? I’m… I’m not sure love is the most appropriate term…”
“Whatever. You went crazy over him right in front of me, but I didn’t say anything. Every time he hurt you I wanted to… never mind. I helped you, I listened to you, I let you cry on my shoulder… that’s what good friends do, right? That’s what you might want in a special somepony, right? I guess not even being married to me was enough.”
Once again Spike’s voice drew the attention of their fellow passengers. Rarity leaned in again and tried to hide the quiver in her voice. “Now, Spikey, I don’t think that’s entirely fai—”
“Let’s just go home and get Twilight to fix this. She was right all along; I just ended up getting hurt.”
Rarity held the three rings in her hooves, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m not proud of my actions, Spike… and you’re not the only one who’s hurting.”
The tension in his claws slackened. He turned back to her with a frown. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
She wiped her eyes and faced the window. “Let’s just move on, shall we? Perhaps after some time apart to collect ourselves we’ll be able to go back to… the way we were.”
The words sounded hollow to both of them.
---
After a thoroughly uncomfortable train ride and a silent march through snow-covered Ponyville, they arrived at Twilight’s castle. Rarity didn’t want to talk anymore. Not to Spike, or anypony else. Fortunately, he seemed perfectly willing to knock on the door and do the requisite shouting.
“Twilight, we’re back! We need you to un-marry us.”
The windows above were dark and covered in frost. He knocked again, this time dislodging a layer of snow from the door, revealing a note in the process. Rarity pulled the note off the door and unfolded it.
Spike, meanwhile, continued his more direct approach. “Twilight! This is an emergency, and the stupid door’s stuck!”
Rarity rolled her eyes and began reading the note aloud. “‘Dear Spike and Rarity— I’m sorry to inform you that I’ve been called away to an emergency summit on the future of library science. Spike, while I’m away, I’ll need you to sort and file all of the scrolls in the castle. Yes, all of them. Rarity, I hope your trip was a success, and I hope you both still think getting married was worth it, because you’ve got an extra week of richly deserved marital bliss ahead of you. I’ll be back on Sunday. Signed, Twilight Sp—’ Why that… that book-loving tyrant! The nerve, the insolence, the—”
The door opened at last, releasing a tidal wave of scrolls that buried Rarity up to her neck. Her voice rattled the window panes. “Twilight Sparkle, if you thought Tirek was a force to be reckoned with, you obviously haven’t trifled with an irate fashionista!”
Spike burst through the top layer of scrolls and snow a moment later. “I have to sort all of these myself? That’ll take all week!”
“Leave them, Spike. First, we’re undoing Twilight’s obscene prank. There’s more than one pony who can end a marriage in this town, and we’re going to her office right now!”
---
Ten minutes later, Spike and Rarity were seated in the Mayor’s office. Everything about the room, from the old furniture to the older newspapers framed and hanging on the wall, screamed ‘public official.’
Mayor Mare slid their marriage contract across her desk and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but my hooves are tied.”
Rarity gasped. “But Mayor Mare, surely it’s within your power to annul a simple marriage? The terms are right there, we all just need to sign our names.”
Spike nodded. “Yeah, you could’ve even married us in the first place.”
Mayor Mare shook her head again. “That’s the exact problem: I’m not the one who married you.” She tapped on the annulment clause. “It says that the marriage can be nullified by written consent of all parties involved, and there are three signatures here.”
Rarity’s jaw dropped. “B-but Twilight was merely the acting officiant… surely her signature isn’t part of…”
“I’m afraid that’s how I see it.” Mayor Mare took a nervous glance at the campaign poster hanging next to the window. “I can’t risk crossing a Princess of Equestria, especially not during an election year.”
Spike scraped his claws across the sides of his head. “But you’re running unopposed! You just have to help us, I can’t stay married to her for another week!”
Rarity huffed and turned away. “Indeed, this is simply intolerable! We simply must go our separate ways at once.”
Mayor Mare rubbed her chin for a moment and stared off into space. “You know… there might be another way. I happen to know a pony in this town that specializes in this sort of thing. If anyone other than Princess Twilight can help you, it’s him.”
The marriage contract glowed blue, rolled itself up, and flew into Rarity’s grasp. “Wonderful. Where can we find him?”
---
Time Turner’s clock shop was, without question, the worst possible place in Equestria to sit around and wait. There were no less than a hundred timepieces on display, from grandfather clocks to pocket watches, and all were ticking seconds away in perfect synchronization.
Truly this was Tartarus personified. Even Rarity’s impatient hoof-tapping was starting to align with the lock-step noise of the clocks.
“Mr. Turner? You said you’d be with us in a minute, and that was precisely one minute ago,” she said.
Spike stepped up to the counter and pounded on the bell positioned next to the register. “Hey! Can we get some service already?”
The door behind the counter opened and Time Turner appeared. “Sorry for the wait, folks. What can I help you wi—”
Rarity pointed at the rings on her horn. “Our marriage. End it. Now.”
His smile vanished and he nodded. “Ah. I had my suspicions when you two walked in. Why don’t we step into my office?” He lifted the divider on the counter and motioned towards the back door. “Through there and make a left.”
The back office was remarkably clean and quiet for a watchmaker. Aside from a small work bench covered in tiny gears, the room was spotless. Three overstuffed love seats were situated around a small, glass coffee table. Once the door was closed, the din of the clocks was much easier to bear.
Time Turner turned one of the chairs to Rarity and smiled. “Please have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. You said Mayor Mare referred you to me?”
Spike took one of the other chairs before she could sit. “Yeah. See, Twilight did this weird thing with our marriage contract—”
Time Turner held up a hoof. “Hopefully it doesn’t come down to paperwork. Let’s just sit for a minute and figure out what we’re dealing with. Would either of you like a glass of water?”
Rarity sat in the remaining chair. It felt even more comfortable than it looked. “I must say, Time Turner, when the Mayor offered to refer us to somepony, I wasn’t expecting you.”
He grinned. “It’s a strange pair of professions, right? Clocks might be my special talent, but it’s what we’re doing right now that helps me sleep well at night. I even have a doctorate in it.”
Rarity stared at Spike, who stared back at her with matching incredulity. “I… see. That’s an… interesting thing to enjoy. Now, about our marital situation…”
She passed the contract to Time Turner. He set it on the coffee table without so much as a glance. “Let’s start at the top. Rarity, why don’t you start by telling me why you’re both here today?”
“I told you that already. We need a marriage annulment.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Spike, how does that make you feel?”
Rarity gaped. “Excuse me?”
Time Turner shushed her. “I’d like to hear from Spike.”
Spike looked from one of them to the other. “Well, uh… I’m kind of glad it’s going to be over. Today she’s been acting like being married to me is the worst thing ever.”
Rarity snorted. “Please, Spike, let’s not make this more complicated than it needs to be. We both knew what this marriage was from the start. We married for precisely one thing, and now that that’s over, it’s time for the charade to end.”
Spike crossed his arms. “You’re right about one thing: this marriage is a joke. You’ve been no fun at all since we got back from our weekend in Canterlot.”
“And what did you expect to happen? For this little sham to spontaneously turn into never-ending marital bliss? For me to overlook the ways in which you took advantage of my trust?”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Shall we discuss the dress zipper incident? What about what happened in the shower?”
Spike pounded a fist on his chair. “So now you can talk about that stuff but I can’t? I only did those weird things because you wanted me to! I’ve been nothing but a good friend and a great husband, and you know it!”
“Hmpf. Perhaps my accusation is a tad unfair, but the point still stands: we’ve let our own interests get in the way of common sense. We never should have gotten married under such self-serving pretenses, and something must be done about it.” Rarity turned to their host. “Wouldn’t you agree, Time Turner?”
Time Turner clapped his hooves. “Absolutely. I can’t stress enough how important talking to each other about your feelings is. That’s what’s going to help you rekindle that spark that brought you together in the first place.”
Rarity was about to ask what he meant, but then paused. She took a second to actually examine the room, from the non-threatening decor to their overly-courteous host, and raised a hoof. “What precisely do you have a doctorate in?”
“Why, marriage counseling, of course.”
She planted a hoof on her forehead. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Rarity reached around for a pillow to hold over her ears; somepony was pounding on the shop door. Her night mask and earplugs were still buried in the mountain of luggage piled at the foot of her bed. She knew morning had arrived, but she didn’t care.
“I refuse to open the shop today. Nopony can make me.”
The pounding continued, unabated. Some inconsiderate pony was very persistent.
Rarity rolled to the bed’s edge, wishing she’d packed the complimentary bottle of cider from the honeymoon suite. Last night she could’ve drunk it, and this morning she could’ve used the empty bottle for hoof-to-hoof combat with whoever dared disturb her much-needed beauty sleep.
By the time she arose, Spike was already in the hallway, just outside of Sweetie Belle’s currently-vacant room. Her parents couldn’t have picked a better month to take her little sister on a family trip, considering that the castle was completely uninhabitable in its current state.
Spike rubbed his eyes and looked at her. “Who is that? Why’re they here so early?”
She marched past him towards the staircase. “Whoever it is, apparently they can’t read the ‘Closed’ sign on the door.”
As they reached the shop’s ground floor, Pinkie’s voice rang in their ears. “Rarity! Rarity! I’ve got some super-ultra-important news that just can’t wait!”
Rarity’s breath caught in her throat. “Spike, hide! Nopony can know you’re staying here, especially not our friends. The rumors, the scandal… what would they think?”
He jumped behind a ponyquin. “I dunno, maybe that we’re happily married or something crazy like that…”
Holding a smile was particularly difficult when she saw Pinkie’s sugar-fueled grin. If only she had that kind of energy, or that kind of happiness, for that matter. “Good morning, Pinkie Pie. What brings you here so early?”
Pinkie bounced up and down so quickly that her swaying mane bordered on being hypnotic. “I’m here to remind you about our extra-special party this afternoon at Sugarcube corner! All our bestest friends are coming, all except for Twilight. Oh! Maybe we can plan a welcome-back-to-Ponyville party for her; we’ll make it a party-planning party!”
Rarity’s smile grew thin. “I might have an idea or two of how to welcome Twilight back…”
Pinkie nodded. “Me too! I’ll expect to see both of you there.”
“Both of us?”
“You and Spike! Why’s he hiding back there, anyway?”
Rarity whirled around. Spike was still hiding behind the ponyquin, all except for his tail. “Pinkie, this isn’t what it—”
By the time she turned back, Pinkie was bouncing her way down the street. “See you both at noon!”
Spike joined her at the door a moment later. “So… are we going?”
“To the party? I suppose it would be rude not to, and would only lead to more questions.”
“What do you think Pinkie’s going to say?”
“Nothing, I hope. It isn’t out of the ordinary for you to be helping me, after all.”
“But that is,” Spike said, pointing at her horn.
“Spike, whatever do you—” A chill ran down down Rarity’s back. She was still wearing her wedding rings.
---
The snow on the ground hampered their progress considerably. The clock had struck noon two minutes ago, and they were just now trudging their way to the door of Sugarcube Corner. They were two minutes past being on time, and three minutes too early to be considered fashionably late.
“Thank you for helping me unpack this morning, Spikey,” Rarity said.
Air shot out of his nostrils. The condensation made it look as if he was about to breath fire. “That’s what a good husband would do, right?”
Fire indeed.
Rarity winced. “Must we do this again, Spike? Can we please just attend the party and spend a few hours with our friends in peace?”
He kicked a snow drift. “Yeah… I’m sorry. I don’t want to be mean and angry, really. It’s… it’s just kind of hard to deal with right now.”
“I know,” she whispered.
As expected, the party was already in full swing. A vast assortment of sandwiches, cakes, and other scrumptious-looking food was spread out on a long table. Four of their closest friends, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie, were milling around a punch bowl on the far end.
Pinkie ran over as soon as she saw them. “There’s our missing party-ponies! Wanna try one of my brand-new chocolate-banana-daisy cupcakes?”
The tray of aforementioned cupcakes appeared under Rarity’s nose a moment later. She inadvertently took a step back, fearing Pinkie was going to take a page out of Fleur’s book and serve them at high velocity. “Th-thank you, Pinkie Pie, they look scrumptious.”
Spike pulled one off the tray, took a bite, and nodded. “Whoa, these are awesome, Pinkie.”
Rainbow Dash swooped down to grab one. “Hey, where’re you going with those?” The cupcake vanished into her frosting-stained mouth and crumbs rained down. “So why’re you two late?”
Spike shrugged. “Eh, I… got busy is all. Twilight left a ton of work for me to do while she’s gone.”
Applejack cuffed him on the shoulder with a grin. “Darn tootin’ she did. Where were you all weekend, Spike? Twilight roped me into helping her stuff the whole castle full of scrolls from Canterlot, Manehattan, and pony-knows where else. I kept asking her where they were all supposed to go, but she just kept saying that was your job when you got back.”
“Well… uh…”
Pinkie jumped up and down. “Oh! Oh! Were you hiding at Rarity’s? That’s where I’d hide from Applejack.”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “Har har. Yeah, I get it. Wherever you were, Twilight wasn’t too pleased, I can tell you that.”
Rarity could see beads of sweat forming on Spike’s forehead. She let out a carefree laugh, or at least as close to one as her stress level permitted. “Pinkie, don’t be ridiculous. Spike was merely helping me this morning when you stopped by.”
Fluttershy nudged her. “Rarity, if… well, if it’s not too much trouble… could you pick up Opal right after the party? Practicing with my bird choir is kind of hard with a cat in the house.”
“Of course, Fluttershy. You’re such a dear, watching her for me while I was away on such short notice.”
Pinkie frowned. “You were gone, too? That’s why I couldn’t find you? We were having a milkshake-drinking contest on Saturday and I really, really wanted all my friends there to support me.”
Spike patted her on the back. “Aww, I’m sorry, Pinkie. I’m sure you did great.”
Pinkie’s grin came back in an instant. “You know it! I got to twenty before the Cakes told me I had to stop. They ran out of ice cream, those silly ponies…”
Rainbow Dash swiped another cupcake off the tray. “Wait a sec, you two were both gone? What’s the deal?”
Rarity forced out another laugh. “Oh, it’s just a coincidence. I was away on business in Canterlot.”
Rainbow Dash folded her front hooves. “Uh huh. So what about you, Spike? If you weren’t with Twilight or Rarity, where were you?”
Rarity knew the end was nigh. The subtle flick of his tail, the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot, and the quiver in his smile all said the same thing: he was going to crack, and no amount of deflection on her part could prevent it from happening.
Spike scratched his forehead. “I was… uh…”
Applejack snatched the tray of cupcakes, interrupting Rainbow Dash’s attempt to grab another one. “Save some for the rest of us, Rainbow.”
Rainbow Dash grabbed the other end of the tray and gave it a sharp tug. “Hey, just because I’m a faster eater than you are doesn’t mean I’m gonna eat all of them.”
“Faster? Why don’t you try cleaner, for once? I ain’t no high-society pony, but at least I’ve got the common courtesy to wipe my mouth after I’m done stuffing it.”
They pulled the tray left, right, and finally up. Rainbow lifted the tray, and Applejack, into the air, and the cupcakes went flying. Pinkie made the all-important proclamation seconds before a cupcake hit her in the face: “Food fight!”
Rarity let out a shriek and dove for cover. She opened her eyes thirty seconds later when, contrary to her fears, cartloads of desserts didn’t fly like mortar fire. Instead, she realized that all her friends were staring at her, all except for Spike. Where had he gone?
Rainbow Dash and Applejack started laughing.
Fluttershy blushed.
Pinkie pointed at the floor underneath Rarity. “You might want to let him breath. Just saying.”
“Pinkie, what do you—” Then she looked down. She’d dived onto Spike and currently had him pinned to the floor in what anypony, herself included, would consider a loving embrace.
Applejack fanned herself with her hat while her laughter subsided. “Maybe you should save some of that for the honeymoon, Rares.”
Spike scowled and pushed Rarity off. “It’s way too late for that. The honeymoon’s over alread—I mean…”
Rainbow’s laughter stopped cold. “Say what? You two are… married?”
“What? Ha, no… that’s… that’s crazy,” Spike stammered.
Rarity cringed. “We… we shouldn’t lie anymore, Spike. I’ve acted abominably enough already. Our friends deserve the truth.”
Fluttershy held her hooves over her mouth. “Oh my! Congratulations, Rarity! But… how could you and Spike… I mean…”
“I… I can explain. Last Friday, I received an invitation to a very exclusive social club that requires its attendees to be married. I very selfishly asked Spike to accompany me and, being the wonderful friend that he is… I’m afraid that until Twilight returns on Sunday, we’re lawfully wedded, despite it all being a sham.”
Rainbow burst out laughing again. “Wait, so you two really are married? Like, legally and everything? I want to see you kiss!”
Pinkie stomped a hoof. “And I want to know why I didn’t get to throw you a fake bridal shower, or a fake wedding reception! I didn’t even get to help Spike pick out the rings you were wearing this morning!”
Fluttershy blushed deep red. “But… a pony and a dragon… how would they… you know…”
Now it was Rarity’s turn to blush. “Fluttershy! I assure you, this ‘marriage’ is completely chaste!”
Rainbow put a foreleg around Spike and grinned. “That’s no way to treat your hubby, am I right?”
Spike freed himself and backed away. “N-nothing happened, I swear!”
Fluttershy was on him next. She hovered over him and inspected him from all sides, as if he was an unfamiliar plant. “But… but if you did… would offspring even be possible? Would they be ponies? Dragons? Dragon-pony hybrids?”
Pinkie jumped up and down. “That’s it! I’ll throw you a fake dragon-pony-hybrid foal shower! That’s a thing, right? How’s next Tuesday at three?”
Applejack shouldered her way past them on her way to the door. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”
Pinkie froze. “B-but we’re having a party.”
“Not anymore, we’re not.” Applejack turned back and glared a hole in Rarity. “I can’t tell which one of you two I’m more ashamed of.”
Rarity held up a hoof. “I agree it’s a terrible mistake, Applejack, but—”
Applejack stomped both of her front hooves. “But nothing! The way you’ve trampled those sacred vows makes me sick. I just can’t bear to look at either one of you right now.”
Spike’s face fell. “I… I just wanted—”
“And it serves you right that Twilight flew the coop! Want my advice? Live out the week under one roof so you get it through those thick heads of yours exactly what you’ve done!”
Applejack slammed the door shut behind her.
Rarity looked from one friend to the next, and found that their looks of shock were directed at her and Spike, not the now-absent Applejack. She threw back her mane and marched to the door. “Then that’s just what we’ll do! Come, Spike, I believe we need to relocate your belongings to the boutique.”
Spike hung his head and followed her out. “Yeah… I’m coming, Rarity.”
Rainbow shook her head. “How about that, married for just one weekend and she’s already got him fully trained.”
Snow coated every window in the boutique. Ponyville was in the midst of its biggest snowstorm of the season, which made Rarity’s current activity, planning a new spring line, even harder. She could only do so much to heat up the shop itself, which forced her to bundle up in all of her warmest clothing, or at least as much of it as fashion would permit.
A few rudimentary designs were pinned to the cork board above her work table, but none of them were what she’d consider inspired. Where had the week gone? It was Wednesday night, and she still hadn’t made significant headway on her next collection. Instead of dressmaking, she often found herself doodling. She glanced down at what her subconscious had been up to this time and found a page full of wedding veils, trains, and rings. Even her own mind was mocking the predicament she’d created.
The front door flew open and the wind howled through the shop. “Spikey, be a dear and shut that. It’s cold enough in here already.”
Her quill made curlycues across her paper while the wind continued to roar in her ears. For some reason, her creative vision was stuck on abstractionism, the exact opposite of her intent. A shiver traveled up her back and the quill nib tore through the paper. She threw it aside and pounded her hooves on the table. “Spike, shut the door!”
Countless unpleasantries flew through her mind as she trotted to the front of the shop. Snow had already dusted the winter coats on the display rack, and the edge of the carpet was buried under a quarter-inch of white.
Spike was wedged between the door and the wall, pushing on it with all his might. “It… won’t… budge!”
Her horn lit up and the whole door glowed blue. A gentle rattle shook the ice out of the hinges and allowed the door to swing shut. “There. It’s closed. Please clean up the mess you’ve made, Spike. I still have work to do.”
“Hey, all that snow is the door’s fault, not mine.”
“I suppose… but would you please clean it up anyway, Spikey-Wikey?”
“Aww, but I’ve been working on the castle all day! I’m not even going to have the first floor finished before the week’s over. Did you at least make dinner tonight?”
Rarity put a hoof over her eyes. “Ugh, no. What with the terrible time I’ve been having with my work, I completely forgot.”
Spike unwound the scarf wrapped around his neck and dropped it on the indoor snow drift. “That’s just great. I work all day, walk home in a snowstorm, and you didn’t even think about me getting hungry?”
“Now see here, Spike. I’ve had a long and grueling day, too. My being the wife doesn’t mean I should be stuck with all of the household responsibilities.”
“But you don’t do any of them! Every day when I get home it’s ‘Spike do this,’ and ‘Spike do that.’”
She glowered at him. “I’ll have you know I do far more than my fair share; you just don’t pay attention. Is it so much to ask that you take notice of me like you used to? There was a time when I could hardly take a breath without you paying me a compliment, and now all you do is come home at odd hours and demand to be fed. Even Sweetie Belle makes a greater effort to appreciate me.”
Spike folded his arms and turned away. “Well, you don’t appreciate me either… you never have. I’m done being your assistant, too! I-If you want somepony to say nice things to you… you should try a mirror.”
Rarity’s blood boiled. He wasn’t the only one who could breath fire. “Spike! If you don’t take that back this instant, I’ll—”
A loud thump on the door startled them both, as did the voice on the other side of it. Applejack’s orange hoof wiped a layer of snow off the window and she knocked again. “Rarity? Spike? You two home?”
Rarity’s attempted reply came out as a squeak. She wiped a foreleg across her face, and found it wet. How long had she been crying?
“S-Spike,” she whispered, “…no, never mind. I’ll get it.”
She turned the handle and pulled the door open. “Come… come in, Applejack. To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Applejack had a wooden box and good deal of snow balanced on her back. She removed her hat and frowned. “I’m awful sorry for what I said the other day. I got mad, but that’s no excuse for giving y’all the cold shoulder. I brought you a little something to make up for it.”
She dusted off the box and opened the top. Nestled inside an insulating layer of blankets was a warm apple pie, fresh out of the oven. The smell of it set all their stomachs rumbling.
Spike sniffled and wiped his nose. “Th-thanks, Applejack. I guess we get to have dinner after all.”
Rarity’s heart sank; he was crying, too. “Yes, thank you. What with the bad weather, we haven’t seen any of our friends since the party on Sunday.”
Applejack looked from one of them to other and shut the box. “I gather things aren’t going too well?”
Rarity bowed her head. “You were right, Applejack, we’ve made a terrible mistake. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”
“Nope, what I wanna hear is that you two were having an onion slicing contest just now.”
Spike shook his head. “No. Can’t we just eat the pie? Please?”
Applejack marched to the kitchen. “If you want that pie, you’re gonna have to have a sit-down with me. I might’ve walked out on you the other day, but that’s not happening tonight.”
Rarity and Spike reluctantly followed.
Applejack moved two chairs away from the kitchen table and set them facing each other. “Now, sit down here so we can talk.”
Rarity sat down and stared at her hooves. What good could Applejack possibly do? They’d already seen a professional marriage counselor, albeit by accident. The only pony who could do anything to help was the conveniently absent Twilight.
Applejack found a chair of her own and looked at Rarity. “I know ladies first is customary and all, but do you mind if we let Spike start us off, Rarity? Poor fella looks like he might explode if we don’t.”
Rarity shook her head. “That’s fine. Go ahead, Spike.”
“What do I say?” he whispered.
Applejack moved closer to him. “How about this: forget all the crazy that led up to now, and just tell me what in this marriage ain’t working for you.”
“I… uh…”
“Come on, sugarcube, we all know you’ve been sweet on Rarity since forever, so how come you’re not smiling all day and night?”
Spike looked down at his feet. “Because… because she doesn’t care about me the way I do for her. I’m just her assistant, like I am for Twilight. If we were married… you know… for real, I’d want to get to make decisions, too… and I don’t want to get stuck doing the chores, or making dinner. I already work all day, I don’t want to do that when I get home, too.”
Applejack patted his shoulder. “Far as I’m concerned, this is real, Spike. You said your vows and made it all official. Even if you’re not sharing a bed, you’ve still got to live with each other. Your turn, Rarity.”
Rarity reluctantly lifted her gaze. Applejack was staring at her intently, and Spike was looking at the floor with his arms crossed. “Spike… used to treat me differently. Perhaps it was just his concealed feelings for me, but… he was always willing to help in any way he could, and always took the time to praise even the smallest of my accomplishments. That version of Spike… the one that would cater to my wishes, see to any tasks I leave out for him without complaint, and who thinks about me more than anypony else… that Spike sounds like the ideal husband.”
Applejack gripped each of their shoulders, turning herself into a bridge between them. “Rarity, Spike… I don’t have any nice way to say this: you’re the biggest fools I know. I’ve heard more reasonable stuff from Discord. You’re also two of my best friends, and I want you both to still be alive and kicking by the time Sunday rolls around. Now, I want you two to look at each other.”
Rarity found staring at Spike surprisingly easy, now that she was directing her displeasure at Applejack. Spike’s eyes, those deep pools of green still wet with tears, stared back at her. Staring was easy; speaking bordered on impossible.
Applejack spoke instead. “Now let me ask you both: are you friends? Do you care about each other, even just a little?”
Spike nodded immediately. “M-more than a little.”
Rarity nodded, too. “Of course I care.”
Applejack pressed on their shoulders with additional force. “That’s a marriage right there. It’s a partnership and commitment between the best of friends. If you two want to survive the rest of the week, that’s how you need to treat it. Divide up the chores, think about what the other one wants before what you want, and—” She gripped both chair backs and scooted them closer together. “—here’s the big one: you forgive each other for making mistakes, and that includes all the ones you’re gonna make the instant I walk out the door. Doesn’t even matter if they’re accidents or on purpose; you forgive, you learn, and you do better next time. So, since you care about each other, why don’t you hug this one out?”
Rarity shifted in her chair. Considering how the last few instances of physical contact with Spike had gone, even a friendly embrace seemed like a bad idea. Still, it was clear enough that she wasn’t going to be allowed to leave her chair without making an effort.
She slowly held up her forelegs, inviting the inevitable tackle from her dragon husband. Instead, he crept forward and gingerly wrapped his arms around her. The hug was brief and, amazingly enough, simple. A quick moment of closeness between friends, and nothing more.
The whole of the week came rushing back to her, and fresh tears soon followed. She hadn’t felt this awful since Fashion Week in Manehattan. Hadn’t she learned this lesson already? Nothing felt worse than taking advantage of a friend, and yet that’s just what she’d done when that accursed invitation arrived. “Please forgive me, Spikey.”
He nodded. “I’m so sorry, Rarity. I’ll try really hard to be the dragon you remember from before.”
“And I’ll try to treat you as an equal. Marriage or no, that should be the norm, not the exception.”
Applejack left her chair and retrieved the pie. “Now that’s more like it. I’ll never forget watching Granny Smith straighten out Ma and Pa after they had a fight… just count your lucky stars I gave you the short version. So, who wants a slice of this pie before it gets even colder?”
Rarity stood and returned her chair to its place at the table. “I believe we all do. I’ll get the plates and utensils, Spikey, if you’d be so kind as to help me clean up afterwards?”
Spike managed a smile. “Sure thing, Rarity. Hey, how about I do the dishes so you can finish your dressmaking stuff?”
She smiled back. “That’s quite all right. My dresses can wait. Tonight, what I need most of all is quality time with two of my closest friends.”
---
Rarity couldn’t stop smiling, not even as she readied herself for bed. She stood in front her bedroom mirror, running a brush through her mane and wiping off her smeared mascara. How could so much change in a single evening? How had Applejack bested a trained marriage counselor? Perhaps the ‘how’ wasn’t important. All that mattered was the peace she felt, a wonderful emotion that had been absent from her heart for far too long. Nothing soothed like an evening of carefree chat with two of her closest friends.
Tomorrow would be a better day, simply because she was sharing her home with a dear friend, and not an estranged spouse. The marriage was a formality. No amount of legal complications could tear down her and Spike’s friendship, not anymore. She’d never let that happen again.
There was a quiet knock on her bedroom door. “Rarity? Are you still awake?”
She set down the brush and opened the door. “Yes, Spikey. Did you need something?”
A fresh wave of ice-cold air accompanied Spike inside. “It’s the window; you’d better come see.”
Rarity followed him across the hall, growing colder with every step. When he pushed open the door to his own bedroom, she started shivering. The window over the bed was wide open, and the room was as cold as the wintery night outside. A gust of wind whistled by, sprinkling the bedspread with snow.
“Oh dear, Spike. What’s happened?”
“I don’t know, maybe the latch broke? I haven’t even been in here since this morning.”
The window glowed blue and swung shut. Rarity’s magic wasn’t as powerful at a distance, but she couldn’t bear to enter the snow-covered expanse that Spike was supposed to be sleeping in. “I believe you’re right; I can’t get it to lock. At least we know why the rest of the shop has been so cold all day. Could you please get me a towel from the bathroom? We should be able to use that to hold it closed.”
“Right.”
He ran off, leaving her alone in the doorway. How would she explain this mess to Sweetie Belle? It would be hard enough to justify having let a male friend occupy the room in her absence; it was another to explain why all of her possessions were frost-bitten.
Spike ran past her with a towel. He rolled it up and wedged it into the frame while she forced the window shut. That was enough to stop the incoming snow, but did nothing for the freezing temperature. “Thanks, R-Rarity.”
“Spike, your teeth are chattering,” Rarity said.
Spike forced a smile. “I’ll g-go sleep on the f-floor downstairs.”
“With what? One of those near-frozen blankets? Come.”
Rarity led him into her own room and shut the door behind them. Her bedroom was always the warmest in the building, and a bleak winter’s night was no exception. Heating up the rest of the shop, and defrosting the other bedroom, would have to wait until morning. For the time being, she needed to focus on phrasing what she said next very carefully.
“I don’t want you to freeze, Spike, but I do want to maintain the friendship Applejack just helped us rekindle. Provided you understand that this is merely an act of friendship, and expect nothing more… you can sleep in my bed.”
He stared at her, open-mouthed. “B-but where will you…”
In response, she retreated to her bedside, placed one of the spare pillows in the middle as a divider, and crawled in. “Goodnight, Spike.”
She felt him sit on the opposite side of the pillow a minute later. “Thanks, Rarity. You’re… you’re a really good friend to me. Goodnight.”
Rarity couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept so well. Winter aside, her own bed felt as reinvigorating and warm as the spa’s sauna. Her lips curled into a smile and she stretched her legs. Judging by the dim light creeping in around the edges of her sleep mask, the sun had likely risen less than hour ago. With such an early start, not to mention such a good night’s sleep, she was sure to find the inspiration she’d been so sorely missing the past few days. Her sleep mask rose off her forehead and deposited itself on the dresser. For a moment, all was right in the world.
Then the moment ended.
The pillow she’d used to divide the bed in half was gone, and she was sleeping on the wrong side. Spike’s back, the source of the heat she’d been enjoying, was pressed against her chest. All that time, she’d thought he was a lumpy pillow.
She was certainly warm enough now. Even without a dragon for company, the heat radiating off her cheeks would’ve been more than enough to sustain her. After two quick rolls, and a second fright when she realized his tail was wrapped around her own, she was back in friendly territory.
Rarity’s heart pounded, her face reddened, and she grew cold. Spike was still asleep, thankfully. He didn’t need to know about this, especially if he still pined for her affections after so many near-friendship-wrecking incidents. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t sleep now, not after that unfortunate discovery, and certainly not without a heavy quilt to block the chill.
The floor felt cold underhoof, the sun was just cresting the hills outside Ponyville, and an entire day of dressmaking and awkward thoughts about her husband lay ahead. She made her way to the kitchen and surveyed the breakfast supplies. There weren’t any flowers or hay, and that only left complicated things that required the stove and oven. Would Spike be willing to do the cooking? She already knew the answer to that. She also knew that she couldn’t ask him, not now. Applejack’s pie pan was sitting in the drying rack next to the sink, and she could picture its owner’s earnest gaze reflected in the surface.
“Remember Rarity, think of your husband before yourself. Now, what would Spike like for breakfast…”
Rarity turned away from the pantry and faced the window. Gems, of course. That’s what Spike would like, and, lucky for him, finding them just happened to be her special talent. If she left right now, she could be back before he awoke. She could present him with breakfast in bed, the first of many thank-yous he deserved for putting up with all of her abuse.
Within the hour, she was out in the hills with her horn aglow. The contents of her nearly full saddlebag clinked and bounced as she walked. Surely one more gem deposit would suffice, both for Spike’s breakfast and for the dressmaking ideas dancing in her head. Her spring line would be her best to date.
A slight tug on her horn announced that the search was over. She dragged a hoof across the ground, digging through snow and dirt alike in search of glistening jewels. Digging like this felt strange, for some reason.
Rarity held up her hoof and examined its dirt-stained surface. “Come off it, Rarity. You’ve been searching for gems like this most of your fashion-forward life. There’s nothing strange about it. Isn’t that right, Sp—”
That was it. She furrowed her eyebrows and resumed digging. “When was the last time you were out here on your own, Rarity, hmm? Isn’t Spike always present? Doesn’t he graciously offer to do all the digging in return for a token gem and a bat of your pretty eyelashes?”
At last she struck gold, or yellow topaz to be more precise. The gems rose out of the ground in her magic aura and dropped into her waiting saddlebag. “You should get used to this again, Rarity, plying your trade with nothing but your own four hooves to assist you. Once the marriage is over… once it’s dealt with, you simply need to rely on him less. If there’s to be no formal courtship, if he’s to simply be your friend, then he cannot be allowed to continue doing nearly everything for you.”
Rarity stuck up her nose and pounded a hoof on the ground like a gavel. That was the final word on the matter. No formal courtship. If she didn’t care for him as he did for her, then she couldn’t risk leading him on yet again. Spike was just her friend. That was how she saw him, wasn’t it?
Her head sank as she started the long walk home. “Why can’t I understand myself anymore, Spikey? Perhaps… perhaps I never have.”
---
All was quiet when Rarity returned to the shop. The only sound was the gentle ticking of the clock by the back counter. She’d been gone a bit longer than she anticipated, but that didn’t matter. The lack of claw-prints in the snow meant Spike hadn’t left yet. He was likely still sleeping off the generous amount of apple pie he’d consumed the previous night.
She removed her coat and set it on the nearest rack. Opening the closet to put it away properly just wouldn’t do. The hinges on the door squeaked, and that might spoil her surprise. Instead, she headed straight for the kitchen. A proper breakfast in bed called for a plate, a tray, and some type of garnish. Would parsley be appropriate for gems? She’d just have to risk it.
The kitchen door opened of its own accord moments before she could reach it. On the other side of the threshold was Spike, and in his hands was a tray loaded down with pancakes, eggs, orange juice, and tea. Her favorite scarf was folded up on the corner of the tray.
Rarity held a hoof up to her mouth. “Is… is that for me?”
Spike held up the tray and gave a sheepish grin. “I-I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed, but I saw you went out already. I didn’t know what you’d want so I kind of just made some of everyth—”
She set the tray on the ground and hugged him. This time she didn’t care how long their embrace lasted, or what it meant.
Twilight materialized inside the shop with a teeth-rattling bang. She danced from hoof to hoof and looked around. “Spike? Rarity? It’s Sunday, I’m back! Please tell me you’re both here. Please tell me it’s not too—”
A clang and some shouting from the kitchen answered her. She burst through the door and felt her panic-fueled heartbeat double its pace. Spike was hiding behind a chair with a pot-lid shield in one hand and a toast throwing star in the other. Rarity was behind the overturned kitchen table with a selection of breakfast-turned-ammunition floating overhead.
Twilight ran into the fray and held up her hooves. “Stop! Stop fighting! Don’t worry, you can still be friends. This isn’t anything that an annulment and a few memory-modification spells can’t fix!”
Rarity dropped her weaponry. “Twilight? You’re… back?”
Twilight rushed to her side. “Oh Rarity, Spike… I’m so sorry! Ever since I wrote that nasty note and got on the train, I’ve felt so horrible. I-I tried to get back right away but the snow was so deep the train couldn’t run, a-and I couldn’t even fly through it. P-please forgive me!”
By now, Twilight was bawling into Rarity’s shoulder. A few days prior, Rarity might have used this opportunity to put her in a headlock. Instead, she stroked her friend’s mane and cooed into her ear. “There there, Twilight. You’ve gotten yourself worked up over nothing, I assure you.”
Twilight shuddered. “B-but you’re having a fight! You hate each other! This isn’t what I wanted. I-I’m supposed to be the Princess of Friendship, and look what I’ve done! I’ve ruined yours!”
Spike ran over and hugged her. “Twilight, it’s okay. We don’t hate each other.”
“You must hate me, though… for what I did.”
Rarity and Spike stared at each other, wide-eyed. Rarity smiled and shook her head. “Never. This ‘fight’ that you interrupted was actually a friendly game of sorts that happened spontaneously after breakfast. I’ve been told that an occasional bout of over-the-top silliness is good for a relationship.”
Spike grinned. “Yeah, and it’s lots of fun, too!”
Twilight stood and looked at them. She clearly wasn’t in the right shop. Could she have crossed some sort of dimensional rift during that last teleport? Either that, or she was actually half-buried in a snow bank, hallucinating much more pleasant versions of her friends. “B-but what about… everything? I-I can annul your marriage right now, just give me the contract and I’ll sign it.”
Spike held up a hand. “Wait, before you do… can I talk to Rarity for a second, in private?”
For a moment, Twilight was ready to panic again. “J-just talk, right? No yelling? No… plotting my demise?”
Rarity smiled. “I can assure you that all is forgiven, Twilight.”
Spike sighed. “Yeah, even making me clean out the whole castle.”
Twilight curled up into a ball on the ground. “I’m sorry, Spike.”
Rarity frowned at him. “Now, Spikey, I thought we agreed to forgive.”
“Right, sorry. It’s okay, Twilight. I get that you were mad and everything. You might have to help me with the last three floors, though… I kind of ran out of time.”
Twilight forced a smile. “Of course, Spike! In fact, I’ll do it all on my own. You just take some time for yourself. As soon as you’re both ready, I’ll take care of that pesky marriage contract.”
Rarity followed Spike into the next room and shut the door. “Yes, Spikey? We’ve already said so much, for good and ill alike.”
He faced her with his hands clasped behind his back, smiling a nervous smile. “Rarity… was being married to me this week really that awful? I’ll agree to the annulment and everything, but I just want to know if I made you as happy as you made me.”
She pulled him into a hug. “Come now, Spikey-Wikey, do you really need to ask? You were the best thing about the weekend in Canterlot.”
“What about this week?”
“Hmm… That’s another matter.” Rarity glanced up at the rings encircling her horn. “I’d say this week has made a few things abundantly clear: I’m clearly not ready for marriage, I don’t think you are either—” she leaned in until their noses almost touched “—and I care for you more now than I ever have before. Even first thing in the morning, you are the dependable and sweet sort of dragon that I thoroughly enjoy spending time with… unless elitist pie fights or surprise marriage counseling is involved.”
Spike blushed. “So… what do we tell Twilight?”
She stood back and batted her eyes. “What would you like to tell her?”
“That… that she can sign the contract so we’re not married anymore, and that we’re going out on a date tomorrow night. If… if that’s okay with you.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll agree, so long as we set some ground rules, as Twilight once put it.”
“Ground rules?”
“Outside the bonds of marriage, we will not be sharing a house, a shower, a bed, or much more than an affectionate kiss. I do intend to behave like a lady during our courtship.”
He nodded. “Okay. Can I set some too?”
“Of course.”
“When I mess up, you tell me right away so I can apologize.”
“Provided you do the same for me. Is there anything else?”
Spike twisted the ring off his finger and held it out. “Instead of returning this to the store, could you hold onto it for me? Just until I can pay you back? I… kind of want to keep it.”
In response, she removed her own rings and dropped them into his hand. “Only if you hold onto these for me, just in case you find reason to offer them to me again.”
Rarity took one last glance in the shop’s three-way mirror. Her mane was perfectly styled, her dress was divine, and if she took much longer, somepony might try to start the ceremony without her. She’d waited a very long time for today, and they could wait, too.
A small calendar was pinned on the wall next to the mirror, and today’s date was circled in red. Most brides-to-be would focus on the day of the month. However, she was more interested in the month itself. Had it really been a year since the annulment? Today marked twelve months to the day of blissful and completely lady-like courtship, all culminating in the moment every mare dreamed of.
“Rarity, are you still in there?” Spike’s voice was muffled by the shop’s door, but his annoyance couldn’t have been clearer.
She smiled. “Yes, and I do believe it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”
“Didn’t stop us the first time… Just hurry, okay? I’m freezing out here and your parents keep giving me that look.”
She donned her wedding veil and opened the front door. His black tuxedo perfectly complimented her white dress, two colors as different, and yet as made for each other, as the two of them.
His mouth hung open. “You… you look amazing!”
She batted her eyes at him. “As do you, Spikey. What were you saying before? Something about a look from my parents?”
“Oh… oh yeah. The ‘I-can’t-believe-she’s-marrying-a-dragon’ look. Every chance your dad gets, he talks about this orphanage near where they live.”
She giggled. “Parents will be parents, I suppose. Do you—”
A tall unicorn with a white coat and a pale pink mane came up the path. “I do hope I’m not too late to extend my congratulations.”
Rarity’s smile vanished. “W-why Fleur Dis Lee… I didn’t expect to see you. I-I don’t believe we’ve spoken since I explained my… deception. Y-You said the club bylaws dictated I could never be invited to join again.”
Fleur frowned. “Yes, and that is still the case. Fancy and I can’t allow our social circle to admit pretenders to marriage, such as you were.”
Rarity looked at the ground. “I understand, and I still feel terrible for lying to you as I did.”
Spike’s arm wrapped around her. With the gentlest of nudges, he set her hooves in motion and brought her mind back to the blissful present. His touch felt electrifying. Regardless of the misdeeds that brought them together, the future was what mattered. Soon they would once again be joined in matrimony, this time with love binding them rather than an annulment-friendly contract.
“Thanks for stopping by, Fleur, but we’ve got a ceremony to get to,” he said.
Fleur stepped in front of them. “Of course, of course. Before I go, however, I’d like to present this to you, Spike.”
A white envelope with a small blue insignia floated into his outstretched hand, and Fleur winked. “The next meeting is two weeks from Saturday. Don’t worry about making reservations, I’ll ensure the honeymoon suite is available.”
Rarity had precious few seconds to process what had just happened as Fleur turned and walked away. She looked from the envelope, to their departing guest, and then to Spike. She matched his grin. “Oh, Fleur?”
Fleur looked back just in time for a pair of snowballs to hit her in the face.
