Growing Pains
“I’m glad to help, Rarity, but don’t you think there’s wonderful things about flying that don’t involve dresses?”
It had, in hindsight, not seemed much different from any other visit to the Carousel Boutique. For as long as they’d known each other, Spike had happily taken every opportunity he could to offer his assistance to Rarity. He treasured the time they spent together, after all, and it was only appropriate for a fine young gentledragon to treat his lady with respect.
So why then, after all this time, did it still feel so unrewarding?
“Of course, darling. Flying will also be beneficial for you to help me with gowns, frocks, robes, shifts, skirts, minis, maxis...”
The only response Spike could give was a sigh. Already his wings were straining from the effort of hovering in place, being fitted for a dress he was certain was to tall for a pony to wear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought...
...no, that couldn’t be it. She wouldn’t be that disrespectful of his time, surely? Regardless, the thought persisted in the back of his mind like a stonescale’s itch.
Might as well scratch it, Spike thought. “Rarity, just who is this dress supposed to be for, anyway?”
“Hmm?” said Rarity. Her attention had momentarily turned away from Spike, glancing at one of the several design documents haphazardly spread across a nearby desk. She glanced back towards him, and gave a “The one you’re fitting? Nopony in particular.”
“Oh,” said Spike. “You mean... it’s for a creature that isn’t a pony, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s for any specific creature,” Rarity replied, “but more or less, yes.”
“Not... specifically?”
“It’s more of an experiment, really,” Rarity answered. Her horn glowed a sharp crystal blue, and a length of measuring tape levitated itself off of her desk. “After thinking about the larger bipedal creatures we’ve seen, I wanted to expand my horizons just a tad. It’s always worthwhile to challenge yourself, as I always say.”
“So, uh,” said Spike, “what are you going to do with the dress, then?”
Rarity paused, briefly looking contemplative. “Well... I haven’t yet expanded into a market where I can sell it, so most likely I’ll have it recycled for fabric. That being said, I do find it satisfying to know I can make this sort of thing whenever I want to.”
For a moment, Spike could feel his breath catching in his throat. “R-right, of course.”
Rarity had quickly picked up on the sudden change in Spike’s demeanor. She lowered the measuring tape, briefly, and looked him in the eye. “Spike, dear, is something wrong?”
Spike felt a heavy lump settling in the pit of his stomach. His eyes drifted away, sliding away from Rarity’s gaze seemingly of their own volition. “Well, uh... not really. It’s just...” He hesitated briefly, scratching the back of head. “...I’ve just been hovering in place here for the past three hours, is all. I was sorta hoping you’d get something you can use out of it.”
Rarity blinked rapidly. “Oh,” she said, “well... I suppose if it makes you feel better, I could donate it to a creature large enough to wear it. Given Ponyville’s demographics, I imagine it would be quite tricky finding one...”
“Yeah, thanks,” Spike mumbled. His whole body felt heavy, more than it should have been even with the fatigue of flying.
Rarity smiled back warmly, and brought up the measuring tape to Spike’s waist. “It’s no problem at all, dear! Now, if you would just hold still for a moment...”
For a second time, Spike could only sigh heavily. It was going to be a long day.
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Spike had gone to bed that night with his wings aching and sore. Sprouting two entirely new limbs had been a difficult enough adjustment to make by itself; despite the ease he took to using them, he sometimes struggled to understand the unfamiliar sensations his wings brought.
Now, having exhausted himself meeting Rarity’s demands, he almost wished that he hadn’t grown them at all. As he lay flat on his stomach, the fatigue slowly began to overtake the sting prickling at his overtaxed wing muscles, and he drifted into unconsciousness.
For the rest of the night, he slept a dreamless sleep, unburdened by the tasks he would perform the next day.
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The following morning, Spike eaten his breakfast without comment, save for the obligatory morning small-talk. Twilight hadn’t paid any mind, for she was already busy preparing the lesson plan for her latest school endeavor. After a simple meal of cold cereal, he walked out the door, and began his journey over to Carousel Boutique. He’d agreed to meet with Rarity that day to help her out with another set of errands. Steadily, he made his way through the busy morning streets of Ponyville, eager for another chance to help Rarity.
Yes, definitely eager. So eager that his feet were dragging against the ground as he walked.
By the time he arrived at the familiar doorstep of the boutique, the sun had already climbed well into the sky. He raised his claw, and gave a series of limp-wristed knocks that dully echoed on the wooden door frame.
With a gentle creak, the door opened, and Rarity stepped into view. Her eyes twinkled gently in the morning sunlight, and Spike couldn’t help but be drawn into their pristine gaze.
“Spike! There you are! Thank goodness, I was worried sick!”
“Huh?” said Spike. “Worried? What for?”
“What for?” said Rarity, taken aback, “Spike, you’re late! You’re never late! Why, I was terrified that something could have happened to you!”
Spike reached back and scratched the back of his head. “Ah. Right. Sorry, I was just distracted by, uh... wing stuff. Yeah, let’s go with that.”
Rarity smiled. “I suppose I couldn’t blame you,” she said. She reached out with a foreleg, and pinched Spike right in the center of his cheek. “Just look at you! Oh, I still can’t believe my little Spikey-Wikey is growing up!”
Spike wasn’t about to question how Rarity could pinch his cheeks with a single hoof. At her touch, he’d already forgotten what it is he’d been worrying about to begin with. He quickly followed Rarity through the door, into the boutique proper.
Rarity eventually led him through the main shop room, past a set of stairs that led down into a dark, dusty room. With a flicker of hornlight, Rarity tugged on a chain hanging from the ceiling, and a single lightbulb above flared to life. The room was covered in plain wooden shelves stacked with rolls of fabric in all possible colors and patterns.
“Huh,” said Spike, “I didn’t know you had a basement.”
“Well, I haven’t really used in a while,” Rarity replied. “But I do like to keep some extra supplies on hoof in case of an emergency.” She reached out behind herself, and pulled out a long scroll list from a place that Spike couldn’t see. “Now, what I need you to do is take stock of the entire inventory, and make sure that everything is accounted for. With your new wings, you can reach the upper shelves far more easily than I could.”
Spike raised a single eyebrow. “Uh, can’t you just lift the fabric down with your magic?”
“Spike, dear, you know I’m not good with dust. Why, just take one whiff of this air! It’s absolutely atrocious!” As if to demonstrate, Rarity took a deep breath through her nostrils. Immediately afterward, she followed with an explosive coughing fit, sending flecks of spittle all over Spike’s face.
A sharp blush appeared across Rarity’s cheeks. “Ah... oh dear. Terribly sorry about that. I’ll, er... just leave the rest to you. Let me know when you’re finished!” With a rapid clopping of hooves against the floor, Rarity quickly darted out of the room, disappearing up the stairs.
Spike gave another sigh, only to be interrupted by a coughing fit of his own as motes of dust caught on the inside of his throat. It was going to be a very long day.
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After hours of cataloging the boutique’s dusty inventory, the soft embrace of his bed was the only thing that Spike had on his mind. He came into the Friendship Castle with the burning itch of dust still in his lungs, and blearily pushed through the door and into the main throne room.
He had hoped to return to his bed without comment, but as he dragged himself through the hallway, he had caught the attention of Starlight Glimmer, who stopped to greet him as she made her way through the opposite direction of the corridor.
“Oh, hey Spike, haven’t seen you in a while,” she said. Her eyes shifted focus, gliding over his disheveled form. “Are you okay? You look terrible.”
“Nah, I’m fine,” said Spike. His voice was scratchy and dry, and he subsequently forced a puff of dust from his through by a pair of hacking coughs. “Just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“You look like you’re a little bit more than a bit tired,” said Starlight. “Just what have you been doing the whole day, anyway?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Spike replied. He extended his arms upward, letting his wings flutter as he stretched out their tired muscles. “Just helping out Rarity with a few odd jobs here and there. No big deal, really.”
“Really?” said Starlight. “Rarity’s been pushing you that hard? Seems kinda harsh.”
“H-Hey! She’s not pushing anything!” Spike shot back. “I’m happy to volunteer when she needs me! There’s nothing wrong with that... is there?”
“Well no,” said Starlight. “But I don’t think volunteering means you need to work yourself to the bone. Why don’t you just take a break from it every now and then? I’m sure Rarity wouldn’t mind.”
Spike hesitated. It had been such a long time since he’d first started assisting Rarity on her errands, and not once had the thought crossed his mind. “You really think so, huh?”
“Of course!” said Starlight. “You just take it easy, okay?” She gave one final nod, and began to breezily trot down the hallway. As she left she turned over her shoulder and spoke. “Anyway, I’ve gotta be going. Just remember to take care of yourself, alright?”
“Yeah,” said Spike, “thanks.”
For a long time, Spike stood there in the now-empty hallways, a flurry of uncomfortable questions swirling in his mind. As he finally worked up the energy to make his way to the bedroom, he realized that he’d like the answers even less.
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The sun peeking over the horizon brought Spike into the realm of awareness, and right away he was struck with a terrible certainty. A thought loomed heavy over him, one that he had flirted with just before he had fallen asleep. Only now, with a refreshed body and mind, did he understand its true gravity.
It was horrible. Enough to tie his stomach into knots several times over. Yet even as the discomfort washed over him, he felt his chest swell with determination.
He had to find Rarity. Sooner rather than later, if possible.
Spike quickly jumped out of bed, and hurried out the corridor and down the stairs. He had stopped just long enough to scarf a slice of untoasted bread from the kitchen pantry — a task made easier by the reach of his new wings — and quite literally flew out the kitchen door. He passed Twilight on the way through the main throne room, shuffling another stack of papers atop the crystal table. As he hovered past Twilight, he grabbed the massive double doors and pushed with all the strength that he could muster. His muscles strained, and yet the door refused to budge, a reminder that growing wings didn’t make them weigh any less.
“Whoa! Slow down there, cowboy,” Twilight remarked. “Here, let me help.” Her horn glowed a light purple, and rapidly dodged the massive crystal doors as they swung inwards.
Spike laughed weakly. “Oh. Pull. Right.”
“You seem like you’re in quite a hurry,” said Twilight. “Got any big plans for today?”
“It, uh... depends on what you mean by ‘big,’”, said Spike. “But basically, yeah.”
“Well, I won’t keep you waiting,” Twilight said. With a warm smile, she waved Spike off as he glided out the doorway.
“Yeah,” Spike grumbled, “good luck with that.”
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Flying, as Spike had quickly learned over the past two days, was a much more effective means of getting from point A to point B than walking was. Aside from the occasional crossed paths with an equally cross-eyed mare, he’d had very little difficulty navigating the wind currents to his desire. Moving through the air was almost reflexive, something he felt like he’d known how to do his entire life, as impossible as that seemed.
He eventually landed just at the doorstep of Rarity’s boutique. This was it. This was what he’d promised himself he would do. His arm trembled as he reached forward, his hand balled into a fist that far tighter than he needed to knock on the door. Barely able to hold his gaze against the door’s surface, he lightly tapped against the door three times.
Silence hung in the air, followed by more silence. His body tensed, and he contemplated running away then and there. It would have been easy to forget everything and walk away, pretending as though nothing had happened.
The choice was made for him when the door finally opened, and Rarity appeared in the door frame to greet him. Her coat and mane smelled of fresh lilac shampoo and body wash, the fragrant scent relaxing him as the gentle morning breeze wafted through his sinuses.
“Oh, hello Spike!” said Rarity. “I didn’t expect you this early. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
A lump formed in Spike’s throat, forcing him to swallow. There was no turning back now. “Oh, uh... nothing. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. May I come in?”
“Oh no, not at all!” said Rarity. “Come on in, make yourself at home. I was just about to make myself breakfast, I’ll be happy to have you over.”
“Thanks,” said Spike. A slight rumbling of his stomach reminded him that the slice of bread had not been much of a meal. Rarity had always been willing to provide food and hospitality in the past, even when he spent the rest of the day working to assist her.
He followed Rarity through the main showroom, past the shop rooms and into Rarity’s living quarters. Rarity’s kitchen was simple, far less extravagantly decorated than one would expect of a pony like her, though she had made sure to include a few doilies and tablecloths where necessary. A single functional dining table sat a distance away from the stove, sink, and pantries, where Spike could faintly catch the smell of a multitude of different fruits and herbs. The sun gently shown through an open window beside the stove, letting the fresh smell of summer flowers in to mingle with the kitchen’s aroma.
“Come, sit down,” said Rarity, motioning to the table. “How do you feel about oatmeal this morning? I should be able to have it ready in just a few minutes.”
“Yeah, oatmeal sounds good,” said Spike. “Thanks.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, the noise of its legs scooting against the floor lingering in his ears. As Rarity began preparing the meal, he could do nothing but stare down at the table’s surface.
There were so many things he wanted to say, yet he had no idea how he could say any of it. How would Rarity react? Was it really too late to just give up and turn back? He could spend the rest of the day with Rarity without ever bringing any of it up. As he pondered, he gazed at his distorted reflection in the wood’s varnish, staring right into his own eyes.
There’s no point hiding from it. You can’t keep going like this with Rarity forever, you know.
Spike sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
Several minutes passed, and eventually Rarity came trotting forward, carrying a pair of bowls in her telekinetic grasp. She placed them each down at their respective sides at the table, and then sat herself down across from Spike.
For such an otherwise plain breakfast, Rarity had clearly put in a great deal of effort in preparing it, her attention to detail as meticulous as ever. The hot cereal was garnished with carefully sprinkled with blueberries, walnuts, and banana slices, a light drizzle of maple syrup, and topped off with whipped cream. An ornate silver spoon lay embedded within the body of oats, its handle sticking out just enough to grasp.
Spike idly grabbed the spoon, and prodded at the oatmeal. As hungry as he was, he just couldn’t bring himself to think of eating.
It wasn’t long before Rarity noticed Spike’s lack of enthusiasm. The glow surrounding her own spoon faded, and she set the utensil aside. “Spike, dear, is something the matter?”
Spike’s grip on his spoon tightened, and he immediately felt his stomach clench. Rarity knew that something was up now. He wanted to turn back, to lie and say that everything was fine. In the back of his mind, a tiny part of him told him that he could. He was almost tempted to listen, for a moment, but he had come too far to turn back now.
Still, it was probably better not to rush things. A more subtle approach could ease the inevitable sting of truth.
“Er, nothing’s wrong,’” said Spike. “I was, uh... just wondering. Was I planning on doing anything with you later today?”
“But of course,” Rarity replied. “You agreed to come to Mount Cinder this afternoon to help me find some lava rubies, remember?”
“Ah, right,” said Spike. He hadn’t remembered much of what he’d said to Rarity the previous day, after having worked for so long. Yet as he considered the statement, something in his mind clicked into place. “Wait, I agreed to go into an active volcano?”
“Certainly, darling,” said Rarity. “After all, it’s not like I’d be capable of surviving in such a harsh environment. You dragons are quite remarkably durable, you know.”
“Y-yeah,” said Spike, “I guess so.” All things considered, he wasn’t sure why the idea was so frightening at first. Molten magma was barely more harmful to him than a hot sauna.
Yet still, something about it didn’t feel right.
Spike took a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaling slowly from his mouth. It was a stress-relieving technique he’d learned a long time ago, one that he’d insisted Twilight perform whenever she became too tense.
“Spike?” said Rarity. “Spike dear, are you absolutely certain nothing’s wrong?”
“Well, I...” For a moment, Spike could feel his breath catch in his throat. “...no, actually. I-I mean, not that there’s anything wrong, it’s just...”
Rarity tilted her head to the side, in equal parts fascination and concern. “Just what?”
“W-well, I, uh... you see... it’s just...” Spike sighed, unable to finish the thought. A direct approach brought too much tension to bear. Perhaps, then, an indirect approach was warranted. “Rarity, why do you keep asking me to do things for you?”
Rarity went silent for several moments, staring blankly into Spike’s eyes. “...I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
“Why do you keep asking me to do things for you?” Spike repeated. The trepidation he’d felt just moments before was already beginning to melt away. “Whenever you want something done, I’m always the first one you go to. Why?”
“I... I’m not sure I understand the question,” said Rarity. “Are you saying you want to skip our errands for today? I’d be perfectly fine with postponing our visit to Mount Cinder, if you really like.”
Spike shook his head. “This isn’t just about Mount Cinder. It’s about everything I’ve been doing for you since we met. Chores, modeling, gem collecting, manual labor...” as he continued, Spike felt a sharp pang forming in his stomach. “...and I... I’ve been thinking about it lately. All the stuff you’ve been asking me to help you with. It’s almost always something that benefits your dressmaking business.”
There was a vague glimmer of realization in Rarity’s eye, and her pupils slid away, struggling to maintain eye contact. The moment of truth was rapidly approaching, and it appeared no more comfortable for her.
“R-Rarity. Look. I’m... I’m going to be honest. You know I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. And I know that you know. Heck, I’ve practically worshiped the ground beneath your hooves! I-I just...” Spike gave another deep breath. Every moment that passed, he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Now or never, Spike. Come on.
“...I’m starting to think you’ve been taking advantage of me.”
He had expected Rarity to react dramatically, as she often did. But there were no astonished cries or loud bursts of emotion. She simply stared back in silence, mouth hung agape, quietly moving as if struggling to find a response. Several seconds passed before any words escaped through her lips.
“I see,” she said. Her eyes drifted away, then back towards Spike, small dots of water already visible in their eyes. “Do really think I’ve been doing this? Using you for my own benefit?”
Spike felt his body tense, and another sharp pang in his lungs. It had hurt to see her hurt. “I... I don’t think you ever meant to, honestly. I was eager to help you out however I could, and you just didn’t think much of it. But you know how I feel about you and... and that I was willing to do anything just to be close to you.”
“To be close to me?” said Rarity.
“You know... to get a chance to be with you,” Spike replied. His stomach turned again, as he thought of all the things he’d realized the past night. “A-and maybe part of it’s just that I was too afraid to tell you what I really wanted from you. I’d just hoped that if I helped you enough, you’d start feeling the same way about me that I felt about you.”
Rarity blinked rapidly. “Feelings... for you?”
A sudden jolt of electricity ran through Spike’s body. He slammed his arms against the table, glaring daggers at Rarity. “Yes! I wanted you to love me back! Why is this so hard to understand!?”
Almost immediately, he regretted the outburst. In that moment Rarity had flinched away from him, and there was something in her eyes he’d seen once before, during an event that had still haunted him. Fear. Fear of him. Spike recoiled at the sight, sliding back into his sitting position.
“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to...”
Rarity let out a sigh, brushing a stray mane hair out of her eyes. “It’s quite alright, darling. You... well, you’re still young. I can’t imagine it’s easy learning how to deal with these feelings for the first time.”
“No,” Spike muttered. “I guess it isn’t. But... why? Why couldn’t you just say something? If you were going to reject me, you could have done it at any time! Why would keep toying with my feelings like this?”
Rarity bit her lower lip, sucking in air between her teeth. The question had her practically squirming within her own chair. Finally, she exhaled deeply, letting her body relax. “Well... if I’m going to be honest with you, it’s because I didn’t think anything ever needed to be said about it.”
Spike through his arms into the air. “And why not!?”
The silence that hung between his question and Rarity’s answer was nearly unbearable. The seconds stretched onward, far longer than any clock would measure, and for that time Rarity could only stare straight at him. Spike struggled to recognize the expression in her eye, the vague melancholy that was written across every feature on her face.
Then, suddenly, it dawned on him. Pity. Rarity was pitying him.
“Spike,” she said, “I’m a grown mare. And as much as you’ve matured, by your own species’s standards you’re still just a child. I understand you’ve had feelings for me, but it just wouldn’t be acceptable for me return them. Until now, I... I thought you knew this.”
The words struck Spike like a lightning bolt to the center of his chest. In its aftermath, time itself crawled to a standstill, and every breath he took became a lump of molasses. Suddenly, everything around him felt unbearably heavy.
Spike sluggishly moved his arm, wiping a tear from his eye. A part of him wanted to beg, a part of him wanted to yell, and a part of him simply wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. “Right, of course. Silly me.” He pulled back out of his chair and dropped to the floor. “Guess I’ll just go home now, if you don’t want me.”
“Spike, wait—”
Spike didn’t bother looking back. By the time Rarity called to him, he was already flying out the kitchen window. As he glided away, he could only wonder if he’d ever stand to look her in the face again.