A Daughter and her Dragon

by Level Dasher

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Romance, Princess Luna, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Sex, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 31813

Spike longed for years to have a family of his own. With Twilight's help, he applies for adoption. But what is it like to be raised by royalty?

Spike longed for years to have a family of his own. With Twilight's help, he applies for adoption.
Can he succeed in the trials of parenthood?
Can his daughter survive the life of royalty?
Can the royal coffers endure the doting of three zealous aunts?

Set seventy years after the end of Season 3.

Featured on Equestria Daily!
Cover art by EZTP also featured on Equestria Daily! [#3]
Additional supplemental art provided by MelonDraws, spokenmind93, EZTP, EifieChan, Ayemel, and Ninny, with more to come in the future.

Edited by the amazing Shahrazad

*Note*: [Sex] tag added for the use of innuendo and mention of the topic in later chapters. No 'on-screen' content included.

This story's update frequency is incredibly sporadic, but I promise, no matter what happens, no matter how long it takes, this story will reach completion. (Update 12/28/22: YES, I PROMISE I'M STILL WORKING ON IT!)

SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS!

Published 2013-09-13 10:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2020-08-18 18:18:37 UTC

Chapter One - An Afternoon in the Park

“Which dress would you like to wear tomorrow?” Matron laid several dresses on the bed for Cotton to choose from, while the filly bounced around the room.

“Which one do you think he will like the best?” Cotton looked over her three favorite dresses. They’d been donated to the orphanage, and as Cotton had been the only foal old enough to fit into them, she had been given all three. “What about this one?”

“I think you will look beautiful in that.” Matron nodded her approval. She put the small white summer dress to the side. Matron gently brushed the filly’s mane and went over her wings, straightening the feathers with her teeth. Despite being an earth pony, she had unicorn and pegasi children to care for and had learned more about preening and horn care than most earth ponies ever do.

“There, you look perfect.” Matron smiled as the two walked towards the mirror. Cotton shifted awkwardly as she tried to pull her fringe back over the scarring on her face. Matron sighed, placing a hoof on her shoulder. “You don’t need to hide, Sweetie. Don’t ever feel you have to hide.”

“But– but what if he sees…” Cotton motioned her hoof towards the mirror. “A-and doesn’t want me anymore? Can't I just wear it like this until he takes me home?”

“Oh Sweetie…” Matron smiled warmly. “You can’t trick a pony into adoption. Don’t worry, he already knows. He’s seen your photo– do you remember the one with the pale-green dress?” Cotton nodded. “He told me that he would be proud to have a pretty little daughter like you, if you wanted.”

“M’not pretty…” the filly mumbled.

“Yes you are.” Matron smiled, poking the filly in a particularly ticklish spot, eliciting a giggle. “Especially when you smile and laugh. Now, come sit next to Matron.” She crossed the room, sitting on Cotton’s bed. She patted a hoof next to her, and Cotton diligently sat next to the old mare.

“Now, I need to tell you something before we go to meet Mister Spike tomorrow. You know it is up to you to decide if you want to live with him. If you don’t feel comfortable, nopony will force you. And you are always welcome here.

“The thing is, well…” Matron struggled. She had been trying to think of a way to broach the subject without terrifying the foal. “The thing is, Spike isn’t actually a pony.”

Cotton looked up at Matron. “So he’s like, a griffon or something?”

“No, he’s not a griff–”

“Eww! He’s not a bug, is he?”

“Cotton Candy!” Matron scolded her. “You do not call Changelings ‘bugs’, I have raised you better than that.”

“Sorry Mother Matron.” Cotton rubbed her front fetlocks, padding at the bed nervously.

“But no, Sweetie. He isn’t a Changeling. You see…” Matron took a deep breath. “Spike, is a dragon.”

Matron turned to the very silent filly sitting next to her. All anxious movement had stopped; the filly was holding her breath.

“I’msorryforbeingabadfillypleasedon’tletthedragoneatme–”

“Ssh, ssh, ssh.” Matron draped a forearm over the trembling filly. “Spike does not want to eat you, and you certainly aren’t a bad filly. He’s just like you, in a way; he was an orphan too. Do you remember the stories you were taught in kindergarten? About the dragon who lived with Princess Twilight?”

“He’s the Dragon of Ponyville?!”

“Yes, well, apparently he’s the Dragon of the Canterlot Archives these days,” Matron chuckled. “And now he would like to have a family.”

“But why doesn’t he want a dragon family?” As only a foal’s could, Cotton Candy’s fear had been quickly replaced with curiosity.

Matron had asked him something similar, but decided to leave out the more colorful explanation of his distaste towards other dragons. “Well, you see, he grew up in a pony family. So he wants to have a pony family himself.”

“Well why doesn’t he have a foal with a pony?”

While Cotton Candy was fascinated by the discussion, the incompatibility of mammalian-reptile relations was not a discussion Matron wanted to have. The birds and the bees were one thing, but a thirty-foot dragon with a four-foot mare brought questions to mind the older mare did not want the answers to, nor have to explain those answers to a filly of twelve.

‘Luna forgive me,’ she thought, as she came up with what she hoped would be a satisfactory answer. “Well, Spike did have a pony wife, but she passed away before they could have a foal of their own… th-though you probably shouldn’t ask him about it unless he talks about it first,” she added hastily. “So, do you think you would still like to meet Mister Spike tomorrow?”

Cotton looked across the room, into the mirror. She breathed a heavy sigh, and nodded her head.

“That’s a good girl,” Matron said as she nuzzled the filly. “Now, let’s get you into bed; you ought to be well-rested when you meet Mister Spike tomorrow.”

Matron helped the filly into her bed and tucked her in. “♫Hush now, quiet now. It’s time to lay your sleepy head.♫” Matron sang the same song she’d sung for Cotton every night since she arrived at the orphanage. As the filly closed her eyes, Matron blew out the candle lighting the small room.

Closing the door, Matron looked back at the little filly. She’d been here longer than any other foal Matron had cared for, and she felt a mixture of excitement and sorrow. She was glad Cotton might finally have a real family; but along with that was sorrow. The filly she had come to love over the years might soon leave her, as she had become very much like family to Matron herself.

“Good luck tomorrow, my precious little filly. I hope he is everything you ever dreamed of.”

Ж

“Settle down, Spikey,” the old mare chided him. “You’re making everypony nervous.”

The two sat together in a park, where he and Matron had agreed to meet. Or at least the mare was sitting; the dragon was doing his best at pacing in the tight corners of Canterlot Memorial Gardens. Ponies were gathering around to see the commotion, viewing the fidgeting dragon from the safety of the decorative wrought-iron fence.

“Do you think the bow-tie is too much?” he mumbled as he tugged at the red bow-tie. While he had outgrown the first jewel encrusted one Rarity had made for him, every year she had gifted him with a new one. “Dash always said it made me look like a dork.”

The old mare chuckled, “Spikey, you know my sister loved seeing you in that tie. Forget what Dash said.” Her horn lit green as she straightened the tie again. “You look as handsome as the day you got married.”

Spike blushed at the compliment.

“I only wish I had aged as well.” She winked at him as she patted the grass next to her. “Now I am just an old nag.”

“Oh come off it, Sweetie Belle.” Spike grinned, knowing when she was fishing for compliments. “You know that’s a load of horse–”

“I hope you don’t plan on speaking that way around my soon-to-be niece! Now, come. Lay down and relax. They’ll be here soon.”

Spike gently lowered himself to the ground, resting his jaw on the soft grass. Despite the parasprite swarm buzzing in his stomach, the day was wonderful. Celestia’s sun was high in the sky, warming his scales. The fragrance of the well-tended flower gardens threatened to consume his draconic senses as his mind was awash with pleasant memories.

Rarity had loved flowers, and he’d made sure to have a fresh bouquet sent to her boutique every day.

The vibrant life of this garden reminded him of her. Even though she was gone, while there was still beauty in the world she would be there with him.

“I said to settle down, not to fall asleep,” Sweetie Belle laughed, pinching the dragons cheek with her magic. “Open your eyes, I think this might be them.”

Spike opened his eyes, and indeed, walking towards them was Mother Matron and a small filly walking close behind her. They passed through the gates, where Sergeant Nova and the other guard let them through.

She was a diminutive little filly, with a vibrant raspberry mane that reminded him of a particular party pony in her younger days. Spike smiled broadly when he saw the little summer dress she wore. It was a simple white cotton dress with small embroidered lemon chiffon flowers stitched around the hem. They had been popular amongst the fashion-conscious fillies about eleven years earlier, when Rarity had first designed them.

Spike chuckled, feeling a warmth in his chest. You see that, my love? Doesn’t she just look so pretty?

The filly was cowering behind the older mare, and at first he was concerned that she was cowering from him. As he watched, he could see her eyes darting back and forth, trying to hide from the crowd peering into the park.

Now that they were closer, he could see the scarring across the right side of her face and neck, patches of skin where fur had never regrown presumably going further down her body, though it was obviously hidden by the summer dress. Cotton was walking close to Matron’s left side; it dawned on Spike that the filly might think ponies were staring at her, not the thirty-foot dragon sitting in a public park.

“Sweetie Belle,” Spike whispered as the two approached, “could you go speak with Novamac, and see if he can’t get some of these ponies to clear out? I think they’re making our little guest nervous.”

Sweetie Belle nodded, getting back up to her hooves. She nodded to Matron as she walked by, Matron’s jaw dropping at the sight of her. “I’ll just be a moment or two; please don’t wait on my behalf.”

“T-That was M-Miss Belle, wasn’t it?” Matron stopped in front of Spike, still craning her neck to watch the mare walking away. “Oh my gosh, I was such a fan of hers when I was a little filly. I bought all her records. Oh I know this is unprofessional but do you think I might be able to ask for her autograph?”

“I am certain she would happily oblige.” Spike suppressed a chuckle. He looked around to the little filly. “Hello, my little pony. My name is Spike, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Say hello, Cotton.” Matron smiled as she nudged the filly towards Spike.

“Hello, Mister Spike,” Cotton muttered, hiding behind her mane.

Spike gently moved a claw and patted the lawn in front of them, and he noted Matron seemed to flinch more than Cotton had. “Please, sit. My sister will be back soon.”

“Oh?” Matron craned her neck, looking around. “I didn’t think the Princess was coming today.”

“Sorry, no, I meant Sweetie Belle. Sister-in-law, really.” Spike chuckled at Matron’s expression. “We’re a bit of an eclectic family, I guess.”

“Well, Novamac said he should be able to get most of the ponies to move on.” Sweetie Belle gracefully laid down next to Spike. “You know if you left that dusty old library more often, this wouldn’t happen. Now, are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh, sorry. Of course. Sweetie Belle, this is Mother Matron, and this little filly here is Cotton Candy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mother Matron.” Sweetie Belle nodded to the mare. “And it is very lovely to meet you, Cotton– may we call you Cotton?” The filly nodded. “Have you had a nice day so far?”

“Yes, Miss Belle.”

“Oh, please call me Sweetie Belle… Miss Belle was my mother.”

Spike rolled his eyes; the warranty on that line expired on her fortieth birthday as far as he was concerned. When most of your friends are older mares, two of them capable of banishing you to the moon, and another six capable of turning you to stone for a few centuries, you learned to keep such opinions to yourself.

“So Cotton, why don’t you tell Mister Spike and Miss Belle a little about yourself?” Matron hoped starting off with some small talk would help the filly open up a little.

Cotton pawed anxiously at the ground in silence. Matron could understand, most of the foals who were adopted were a lot younger than her, and more than one had to sit in meetings like this more than once. She hoped she could coax the filly out of her shell.

“Why don’t you tell them what your favorite foods to cook are?”

“Umm…”

“What do you like making for the other foals, sweetie?” Matron nudged Cotton gently.

“Oh, ummm, we cook biscuits for the other foals.” Cotton smiled. “Oh, and sometimes I make cupcakes too.”

“Oh, our good friend Pinkie Pie loves cupcakes too,” Spike added. “What is your favorite cupcake flavor?”

“Chocolate!”

“That’s my second favorite flavor cupcake! My favorite is sapphire cupcakes, my friends made me one for my tenth birthday.”

“What’s sapphire flavor?” Cotton looked at the dragon with curiosity. The expression was matched by Matron.

“Do you know the blue gems, the ones called sapphires?” Spike asked, to which Cotton nodded. “Well, that’s sapphire flavored.” At her continued confusion, he questioned what schools were teaching foals these days. “Well, you see dragons can eat gems, as well as vegetables and plants.”

“What do they taste like?”

“Hmmm, it is kind of hard to describe. Some gems, like sapphires, taste sweet; while some are savoury. In fact, fire rubies are very, very spicy. Spicier than liquid rainbow.”

“Is there anything you’d like to ask Mister Spike, Cotton?” Matron smiled, Cotton’s foalish curiosity was drawing her out of her shell.

“Did you really ride Princess Celestia into a fight with giant cockatricks? Someponies at school say that’s what their parents told them, but Miss Antiquitee said that didn’t happen.”

“Oh, you mean the giant mutant cockatrices that attacked during the Secretariat Comet Crisis?” Spike smiled at the memory. “Yes, I did, actually. I even had a trident. And a really cool eyepatch.”

Sweetie Belle tittered, holding a hoof to her mouth. “I still remember that silly eyepatch, you refused to take that silly thing of for a month.”

“It was a really, really cool eyepatch,” Spike laughed, winking at Cotton Candy.

Cotton stared wide-eyed at the dragon. She’d seen the Princesses before, and while they were tall, Spike was a dragon and was way taller than all of them, even Princess Celestia.

“BUT YOU’RE SO HUGE!”

As Spike lifted his head to the sky and bellowed out a boisterous laugh, the last vestiges of the onlookers took this time to take Sergeant Nova’s advice to move on.

He laid his head back down on the grass, wiping a tear from his eye.

Matron wrung her hooves nervously. “I am ever so sorry, Spike. Cotton, that is not a very nice thing to say to somepony.”

Spike continued to chuckle, holding up a claw to stop her. “It’s alright, I am pretty huge these days. No, you see I was only a baby dragon when I did that. I was about the same size as you were. Dragons start pretty small, but they can grow really big. In about one-hundred-and-twenty years, I’ll have to take a nap for a hundred years, and when I wake up I’ll be even bigger.”

Conversation continued for an hour or so, Matron relaxing silently as Cotton’s nervousness completely dissipated. Cotton assaulted the dragon with questions about all of his adventures. She did ask a bit about his job at the archives, but he couldn’t blame her for finding that boring. He found it boring, but growing up in Ponyville, with a Princess for a sister and the Elements as friends, sometimes boring was fine with him.

“Actually, the princess did get me back for riding on her back. Have they taught you at school about the last Changeling invasion, before the capitulation treaty?” Cotton nodded. “Well, by that time I was sixty-nine years old, and only a little smaller than I was now. You see, being a Knight-Protector of Equestria, I was called to join the army in defence of the realm. As we took the Changeling capital from Queen Chrysalis, Ti– sorry, Princess Celestia climbed on my back and rode me into the castle.” Spike chuckled. “Princess Luna was not very happy with that. ‘Royalty should conduct themselves with dignity and poise on the battlefield.’”

Sweetie Belle tittered. “I think she was just mad she didn’t have a dragon to ride into the enemy stronghold. I still remember the front-line photo Featherweight took, it was very impressive.”

“‘t’s what drove me ta recruit,” Sergeant Nova trotted to the group. “The battle-hardened princess atop one’a Equestria’s greatest heroes, valiantly striding into the belly of the beast. Ma ‘n Pa was furious Ah didn’t go into farmin’.” He turned to Spike. “Sir, just informin’ y’all its just gone noon.”

“Oh, it has?” Spike craned his neck around, the cafés around the park were filled with patrons eating lunch. He breathed a deep sigh. The meeting was only until noon, he had appointments to keep, as did Mother Matron, he could assume. Truth be told though, he didn’t want to leave just yet. “Could I interest the two of you in lunch? We could get something here in the park.”

“I’m very sorry, Spike,” Matron answered. She could see through what he was trying to do, and it lifted her spirits. “We must get back to the orphanage; I have other foals in my care, and my assistant will need to leave soon.”

The look of disappointment on Cotton’s face was strangely heartening for Matron. “Come Cotton, let’s get back. Maybe we can bake some cookies for the others tonight?”

“Yes, Mother Matron.” Cotton got to her hooves. “It was very nice meeting you, Mister Spike.”

“I hope we get to meet again, Cotton. You are lovely company.” Spike grinned, eliciting a shy smile from the little filly.

Spike and Sweetie Belle watched as the two left. Cotton paused at the gate, turning around to wave. Both Sweetie and Spike returned the wave smiling. Spike kept his smile on, only faltering when they rounded the corner.

A gentle hoof laid on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just going to be a long week, waiting.” Spike slumped hard to the ground. “What if she doesn’t want to come and live with me? What if she doesn’t want a dragon for a dad? What if–”

“You were charming, witty and she loved listening to your stories. You saw her face lighting up as you shared the tales of your adventures.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’d want me as a dad.” Spike stood on his hind legs, stretching out his back before landing on all fours again. “Let’s go, Sweetie Belle, we should get you back to Shady, before he sends out a search party for you.”

Chapter Three - Fit for a Princess

Matron grimaced as Cotton bounced about the chariot. “Cotton, dear…” Matron felt her stomach shift unnaturally. “Please sit still.”

“Wow, I’ve never seen everything from up this high!” Cotton leaned her hooves against the side of the chariot, peering over the roofline of Canterlot. She squealed with delight as the chariot banked right, allowing her to see further over the side. “Mother Matron, Mother Matron! Which one do you think is my school?”

“Cotton, please sit down,” Matron whimpered. When Spike had said he would organise transport for them, she had gratefully accepted. Upper Canterlot was a fair walk from the orphanage, and she had appreciated the dragon offering to send a taxi.

When the pegasus-drawn chariot arrived, she reconsidered walking, but one of the pegasi had already helped Cotton into the chariot, and had secured her little gladstone bag, as well as Matron’s own saddlebags. Before long, they were in the air.

Flying is for the birds, Matron thought, as she forced herself to remain upright and keep her eyes on her charge.

Earth ponies weren’t just named so for their lack of wings or horns. They had an intrinsic connection with the earth, giving them great strength and fortitude. When one was separated from the earth by, say, several hundred feet of air, it would cause a peculiar reaction in the sturdy ponies. Acute fears of falling; terrible contemplative thoughts of their own mortality; deep understandings of the force of gravity; butterflies in stomachs.

No such reactions existed in the joyous filly next to her, who smiled as the breeze blew through her mane. Her smile changed to a look of shock when she saw where they were headed. The carriage started its descent, circling the palace towards the rear gardens.

Matron wasted no time clambering over the side, legs shaking as she collapsed to the ground, attempting to hug the source of her race’s strength.

“I think we should probably organise a different carriage for Matron’s way home, Spike.”

Matron looked up to find the smiling faces of Spike and Princess Twilight. Spike bit his cheek to hold in a snigger, as the mare tried to get to her hooves and bow to the Princess at the same time. Looking past Matron, Spike could see the guards helping a very stunned filly out of the carriage.

A unicorn porter collected Cotton’s luggage, and Twilight directed him to take it to the filly’s new room.

“Y-you live in the castle?” Cotton’s eyes were wide; the castle was far more imposing up close than it was from her window of the orphanage. The tall marble turrets topped with golden spires towered above the filly; no matter how far she strained her neck, she could not glimpse the tops of the towers. She brought her eyes back down when she heard the sound of the dragon laughing.

As her eyes drifted down towards the laughter, her mouth dropped open when she found Princess Twilight Sparkle standing right in front of her, smiling widely. “Good afternoon, my little pony.”

Cotton slowly blinked her eyes. Once; twice; three times.

Nope, there was still a princess standing right in front of her.

“Cotton,” the Matron whispered behind a cough.  Cotton wavered in a slight fugue state as Matron tried to get her attention. “Cotton. Remember your manners, and bow.” When Cotton made no move to bow, Matron apologised. “I am sorry, Your Highness. In her excitement, Cotton seems to have forgotten her place.”

“It’s okay,” Twilight beamed as she knelt on the ground. She prefered being eye level with the filly. “My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle, what is yours?”

It was merely a formality, as Twilight was well aware of the filly’s name; she had helped Spike with most of the paperwork, spoken at length with Matron about her, and had even ordered a thorough background check of Cotton’s family history by Canterlot’s finest.

Though she had kept that last part from Spike; he would only complain that it was “creepy”.

“M-my name’s Cotton Candy, Y-Your Highness.”

Spike stepped forward. “Good morning, Cotton!” He chuckled as she finally noticed him. Only when standing next to his big sister the princess, would the thirty-foot dragon go unnoticed. “Excited to come and see your new room? Twilight helped me get it ready for you.”

A wry grin spread across Twilight’s face as she turned her neck to look at him. She silently mouthed the word “help” with an eyebrow raised. Spike felt the sudden urge to playfully nudge his big sister a few miles, but the commoners seemed to get a little freaked out when they didn’t rein in their personal strength.

Cotton Candy beamed, nodding vigorously.

Twilight grabbed the little filly in her magic field, and levitated Cotton to her back. “Hold on, Sweetie! Spike, we’ll race you there.”

Spike laughed as the gigging school-filly, with his hopeful-daughter on her back, spread her wings and took flight.

“I’m sorry, Matron,” he chuckled, “the Princesses are all very excited about Cotton coming to stay with us. It took a lot to convince Princess Celestia to not cancel Day Court to come and greet her, else she’d likely be racing with Twilight and Cotton at this moment.”

“It is quite alright, Sir Spike.” Matron smiled. Even if she was still recovering from the shellshock from the unexpected royal presence and the subsequent foalnapping by said royalty; it warmed her heart to know Cotton would be amongst such loving family. Seeing this welcome had her hoping the next part would merely be a formality. “We still have some things to discuss anyway.”

“This way then.”

Spike led Matron through to his chambers. Matron gaped at the sight of the large chamber.

“It used to be a disused ballroom before I moved in.” Spike lowered himself to the carpets, and set a large cushion for Matron to sit on. “I’m sorry I don’t have any pony furniture; I don’t entertain guests often in here.”

Matron nodded, pulling out a stack of forms from her saddlebag.

“I have a few documents I need you to sign…” Matron stopped as she saw the giant phoenix feather quill Spike was holding; it was nearly four feet long. “Some… documents?” She stopped completely. “Do phoenixes grow that large?”

Spike looked at the quill in his hand, and shook his head. “No, I get them enchanted. Speaking of, may I have those documents?”

Matron passed him the stack and he held them aloft delicately between his thumb and foreclaw, and gently breathed fire across the papers, which evaporated into wisps of green smoke.

“Sir Spike!” Matron barked, forgetting who she was talking to. “You might be related to royalty, but that does not mean you are exempt from–”

“Excuse me a moment,” Spike interrupted, before turning his head. Opening his jaws wide, he belched out large sheets of paper and grabbed them from the air. Putting them down on the ground in front of the mare, she saw they were the same sheets she had given him, only now they were seven-feet in length and a little over five-feet wide. They looked far less comical in his claws now.

“Sorry, I just had to get my aide, Papyrus Script, to enchant these so I could sign them. He’s a terrific enchanter; terrible horn-writing though. Now, what were you saying?”

“I… ummm…” Matron stuttered.

Spike let out a boisterous laugh. When it had subsided, he smiled at her. “I’m sorry, Matron; I shouldn’t tease. Everypony around here is so used to how I have to work with my… ahhh… physical disadvantages, I forget that those outside the palace don’t really interact with dragons all that often. I will try to remember and warn you next time I am going to do something that might seem odd. But please, do go on.”

Matron took a few seconds to compose her admittedly frazzled state, and continued. “Sir Spike, once you have signed these documents Cotton will be passed into your care. You must understand that there is a ninety day trial period, in which either yourself or Cotton can decide if the adoption will not work out.”

“I would never–” Spike started, but Matron interrupted him.

“I have had many parents say that to me, Sir Spike, but sometimes the foals and their new parents do not work out. This is not a failing on either side, some ponies are just not suited to each other…” She let herself smile. “But please, do not treat her any different. Welcome her into the family; too many would-be parents are frightened of falling in love and then losing the child. This usually leads to the child not feeling wanted.

“Cotton is very important to me, Spike.” Matron looked Spike in the eyes, wearing her love for the filly on her expression. “I genuinely hope the two of you get along. She deserves a family, and I truly hope this is the family for her.” Her features became more serious, as she continued her practiced spiel.

“During the next ninety days I—or one of my assistants—will be visiting Cotton and yourself, to see how you are getting along. While I do not suspect she will want for anything, given your station, I will still need to ensure she is being properly cared for.”

Spike nodded; Twilight had explained most of this to him. He uncapped the cider-barrel sized inkwell, and dipped the quill in. Initialing where Matron told him, and signing in other places, it took them a little under an hour to complete the paperwork.

“Excuse me,” Spike said as he balanced on his hind legs. “I’ll need to send these back to Papyrus to have him reverse the enchantments; I doubt you’d want to carry them back this size,” he added with a chuckle. Another quick breath of fire and an equally quick belch several seconds later; Spike was able to pass the sheaves back to the mare.

“Now, shall we go see where that troublesome sister of mine has taken Cotton?”

Ж

Spike knocked on the door to Cotton’s new room, the giggling inside ceasing as he did.

“C-come in,” Cotton’s tiny voice called out, unsure.

Spike pushed the door open, and ushered Matron in first. He positioned himself in the hall so that he could reach his neck into Cotton’s bedroom, but as he stuck his head through the door his nose was met with the raised rump of Mother Matron mid-bow.

Both yelped in surprise, Matron tripping as Spike yanked his head out of the doorway. Aware of the red tinge across his face, he waited until the slew of giggles had subsided. After muttering a quick apology to Rarity under his breath, he called out, “Is it safe to come in now?”

“You may enter, Sir Spike.”

Celestia. Spike rolled his eyes, well aware that her permission to enter by no means meant it was safe. He bent over cautiously, attempting to peer in the room without looking, lest he embarrass himself and Mother Matron again. When he found her standing in the corner of the room, tail firmly between her legs, he cautiously stuck his head inside the room. Neither made eye contact with the other.

Lounging on the bed were both Twilight and Celestia, with Cotton sitting between the two. In front of her was a book, one of Twilight’s favorites, and he knew immediately why Cotton had been giggling before they entered the room. It was a book that Celestia had read to Twilight when she was a filly, and as Spike had grown, Twilight and Celestia had started reading it together for him.

Over the years they’d started with silly voices for each character, adding more to it every time, to the point where now it was a full pantomime of magical puppet spells Twilight had learned from Trixie’s show several decades ago.

Spike started to worry his bedtime stories would be woefully inadequate compared to the show those two could put on.

“Cotton, did you want to come and say goodbye to Mother Matron?” Spike asked. “She’ll have to leave soon. Then we can organise some dinner.”

Ж

All five walked back to the garden. Matron’s belongings were loaded back into the chariot, though Twilight assured the worried mare they would not be flying her back.

Cotton stood next to the older mare, sniffling. Matron pulled her into a tight hug. “I will still come and see you, my sweet little Cotton. I promise.” She dried Cotton’s eyes with a hoof, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You be a good girl for Sir Spike and the Princesses. I’m only a letter away if you ever need me, okay?”

Twilight, Celestia and Spike watched the farewell, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Cotton returned to Spike’s side, watching the chariot as it was pulled through the garden gates and into the streets.

Ж

“Huzzah! They have finally left.”

The moment the last servant shuffled out of the awkwardly silent dinner hall at Celestia’s request, Luna had teleported from her seat next to Twilight to the empty space next to Cotton.

“Tis joyous to finally meet thee, Cotton Candy.” Luna nuzzled her cheek against the startled filly’s own.

“P-Princess?” Cotton attempted to shy away, but the strong wings of the alicorn held the filly tight.

“Please, call Us Luna.”

Cotton looked towards Spike, unsure what to do. Spike nodded.

“When it is just us, you can call us by our names.” Celestia smiled. “When others are around, such as before when the servants were here, you should call us by our titles. If you would like, you can call me Tia, and my sister Lulu.”

“Please, call us Luna,” Luna repeated. Under her breath, she muttered “We hate that nickname.” With a flash of light she was back at her seat.

Spike draped his gargantuan wing over the filly, hiding both of them from view. He whispered in her ear, “When others are around, even I am supposed to call them Princess, even though I don’t. When it is just us, think of them like family. They are kind of my family after all.”

“F-family?”

“Yep.” Spike nodded, removing the large wing.

“Ummm, Prin… ummm, I mean, Luna?”

“Yes, Cotton?”

“Why are you eating cereal for dinner?”

Spike chuckled as Celestia answered. “You see, Cotton, Lulu is what you would call a delinqu–”

“Tia!” Luna stomped her hoof on the table, spilling the contents of her bowl.

Twilight giggled as she put a gentle hoof on Luna’s. “The reason is because Luna has only just gotten up. Celestia runs the Day Court, I run the Dusk Court, and Luna runs the Night Court. Luna has to stay up very late, so she wakes up just before she has to raise the moon.”

“Speaking of Dusk Court…” Twilight sighed. “I’d better get going.” She stood, walked around the table, and gave both Spike and Cotton a nuzzle. “Good night, you two. I will see you tomorrow.”

Ж

Celestia and Luna invited Cotton and Spike out into the garden, where the filly was able to watch the two princesses raise and lower their celestial bodies. Celestia excused herself, as she was waking earlier the next morning. Luna played with Cotton, engaging in a rousing game of hide-and-go-seek with the filly in the garden.

Spike watched with a small twinge of jealousy, as Luna counted to one hundred in the Royal Canterlot Voice. The filly was madly dashing about, trying to find a new hiding spot. He wished he could join in on the game, but his size made that impossible, both in that he would likely not be able to find somewhere to hide, nor could he safely stalk through the garden looking for his prey.

His thoughts were interrupted when Cotton stood in front of him, in panic. “Mister Spike, where should I hide? Luna is almost to one hundred!”

Smiling, Spike stretched out his wing, and allowed her to climb under. He pulled her to his side and tried to regain a comfortable position. Cotton was completely hidden underneath his wing, and he had to wonder if this was her way to let him play too.

“Ninety-nine! One-hundred!”

Spike could feel the filly beneath his wing shaking, likely attempting to muffle her soft giggles. The game was inherently biased in favor of the Princess, an alicorn’s hearing being only slightly less sensitive than a dragon’s. As soon as she had turned around from her counting, she had looked directly at Spike and winked.

“O Cotton, where art thou?” Luna made a play at looking around some of the more obvious hiding places, pouncing over bushes declaring she had found the filly, only to add an overacted harumph when the filly was not in each suspected hiding spot. Each time she thought Luna could not see her, Cotton would poke her head out to watch the princess’ antics, only to dive back under wing when the princess looked to turn around.

After several minutes, Luna approached Spike.

“Sir Spike, We have a report most grave.” Spike chuckled as Luna spoke with overly dramatic flair. “Thy daughter is far too adept at stealth, and has eluded even the Princess of the Night.”

Spike held his breath. Nopony had said the ‘D’ word as of yet. Was she his daughter? She called him Spike. Not dad. Was he allowed to think of her as a daughter? Did he dare?

Luna continued her praise of the filly and her masterful performance in the art of stealth, completely unaware of the tumultuous thoughts crashing through the dragons mind.

“I’m here!” Cotton climbed out from underneath Spike’s wing, seeming oblivious to what had been said.

“Huzzah!” Luna clopped her hooves together. “Through Our trickery, We have found thee!”

“Nu-uh!” Cotton stomped. “You gave up!”

“Very well, be that way!” Luna turned away, pretending to be upset, before turning back and pouncing at the filly. Both rolled on the grass, laughing.

“I think it is about time for Luna to go to court…” Spike ignored the pout from the Princess of the Night. “And it is about time for little fillies to go to sleep, yes?”

Ж

Spike sat in the hall, clumsily helping Cotton get into her pajamas. They both had troubles with the wing holes; Spike realised he would have to get some tips from Twilight. Once Cotton was dressed and she climbed into bed, Spike was able to stretch his neck far enough to pull the covers over her gently with his mouth.

“S-Spike?” she asked as he began to pull his head back through the door. “C-could you read me a bedtime story?”

“Of course.” Spike smiled, resting his head on the carpet. “Would you like to hear my favorite one from when I was a baby dragon?”

When she nodded, he started the story from memory.

“Once upon a time, there was a stallion who had three beautiful daughters. At his departure, he asked each of them what they would like when he returned.

“The eldest daughter, a strong earth pony, asked for strong steel, with which to make new tools. The second daughter was a beautiful unicorn, who asked for diamonds and pearls, with which to make a beautiful dress. His youngest daughter was a pretty little pegasus, who asked for a springing, singing lark, with which to sing and make music with.

“The pony travelled far, from Dodge City to Appaloosa; from Las Pegasus to Van Hoover. On his return to Canterlot, he passed White Tail Woods. There he heard the most beautiful singing, springing lark. When his servant captured the bird, a lion jumped down from the tree.

“‘What pony prowls my forest after dark? I will capture anypony who tries to steal my singing, springing lark!’ he roared. The stallion apologised, saying he did not know the lark belonged to the lion and was trying to catch it for his daughter.

“‘Nothing can save you unless you will swear; give me that which upon home first greets you well. If you are true to this promise, I will be fair; I will grant you your freedom, and you shall have the bird for your little belle.’ The stallion did not want to agree, because his youngest daughter loved him the most, and he knew she would come to greet him first.

“‘Why must it be your daughter that meets you? It could also be a cat or a dog.’ The servant did not want to be caught by the lion, and convinced the stallion to agree.

“When he reached home and entered his house, the first one who met him was none other than his youngest and dearest daughter. She came running up, kissed and hugged him, and when she saw that he had brought with him a singing, springing lark, she was beside herself with joy.

“The father, however, could not be glad, but instead began to cry, saying, ‘My dearest child, I paid dearly for that little bird. To get it I had to promise you to a wild lion, and when he has you he will keep you forever.’ Then he told her everything that had happened, and begged her not to go there, come what may.

“But she consoled him, saying, ‘Dearest father, your promise must be kept. I will go there and appease the lion, so that I can return safely to you.’

“Now, the lion was an enchanted Zebran prince. By day he was a lion, and all his ponies became lions with him, but by night they had their zebra form. On her arrival, the daughter was kindly received and led into the castle. When night came, the lion was a handsome zebra, and their wedding was celebrated with splendor. They lived happily together, remaining awake by night, and sleeping by day.”

A small yawn interrupted Spike’s story. “Are you falling asleep? Did you want me to stop here?”

“C-can you stay until I fall asleep?” she asked.

“Of course.” He continued the story in a softer voice, her rhythmic breathing slowing as she drifted off into slumber.

Ж

Cotton awoke, her warm duvet wrapped around her. The sound of breathing woke her; across the room Spike still laid on the floor. Cotton climbed out from under her covers, and crossed the room.

“Spike?” She called gently. “Spike are you awake?”

Rhythmic breathing was her only response. Moving back to her bed, she picked a small blanket up in her teeth and dragged it back to the sleeping dragon. With a flutter of her tiny wings, she was able to lift the blanket, and gently place it over his neck, or what little of it could be covered.

She looked at her bed, unsure, then turned back to the sleeping dragon, and placed a small kiss on his nose.

“Good night, D-Daddy.”

Chapter Four - Trial and Error (Part One)

Chapter Four - Trial and Error (Part one)

“Have you got all your books?” The dragon carefully checked through the filly’s school bag.

“Yes, Spike.”

“Have you got your lunch pail?” Spike found it in the bag, opened it, and checked the contents. Juicebox? Check. Daisy sandwich? Check. Apple? Check. Chocolate pudding cup? Check.

“Yes, Spike.” Cotton giggled as she watched the dragon fret.

“Come on Spike, you need to leave now. We don’t want Cotton to be tardy on her first day.” Twilight had woken earlier than normal, wanting to see the filly off on her first day back to school.

The three of them walked out into the gardens. Twilight leaned down to nuzzle the filly, then helped her onto Spike’s back. “You have a good day at school today. Pay lots of attention, and I’ll help you with your homework tonight; doesn’t that sound fun?”

Spike rolled his eyes, unseen by either ponies. “You ready, Cotton?” When the filly nodded, Spike spread his impressive wings. “Welcome to Air-Drake, please keep your hooves clear of the wings at all times. It’s a pleasant day for flying, and we thank you for choosing Spike for your school transportation needs.”

Both Cotton and Twilight chuckled, the latter moving away from Spike as he prepared to take flight. With powerful strokes of his wings, they lifted into the air.

Cotton laughed as her stomach rose and fell with each beat of his wings. Being far larger than any pegasus and lacking their magic, Spike had to work his musculature harder to remain aloft.

“Are you okay back there?” Spike called over his shoulder, smiling as he saw the grin on her face. “Make sure you hold on, okay?” Cotton nodded, unable to speak over the roar of the wind.

Within minutes they had arrived at their destination. Ponies cleared the streets below as Spike alighted the cobblestone street out front of the schoolhouse. Spike stretched out his wing, allowing Cotton to slide down the leathery appendage, laughing as she got to the ground. Ponies watched in shock as the dragon turned to the filly.

“Now make sure you study hard today, okay?” Spike nuzzled the filly as gently as he could. “I’ll be back to pick you up after school.”

Cotton waved as Spike took to the air again, then skipped through the gates of the school, oblivious to the stares of everypony around her.

Ж

Cotton unpacked her books from her saddle bag, placing them in her desk. There was a general hubbub about the room, many of the foals whispering excitedly. Some even dared to come speak with Cotton.

“Is it true you rode to school on a dragon?” one filly asked.

“No! That wouldn’t happen; dragons aren’t allowed in Canterlot.”

Cotton shook her head. “Nope, he’s allowed here. He’s my new dad, Spike.”

“Your dad’s a dragon?” another filly asked, incredulously.

“Yep, and he’s a knight.” Normally one to shy away from attention, Cotton was happy to share her news with her classmates.

“But knights, like, slay dragons to save princesses.” Some of the colts had joined in on the conversation, considering knights and dragons a topic ‘cool enough’ to interest them.

“Yeah, when I grow up I am going to be a knight and save Princess Twilight Sparkle from a mean dragon, or a hydra! Or a five-headed dragon! Then I’ll be a king.”

“You can’t be a king unless you marry a queen!” another filly interrupted. “And Equestria doesn’t have any queens.”

“Aegis could always marry Queen Bugface.” This earned a round of laughter from the foals, as well as some gagging from the knight-to-be.

The teacher strode into the room. “Would everypony please take their seats?” When everypony had returned to their desks, she addressed the class. “Good Morning, my little ponies.”

“Good Morning Mrs. Withers,” the class responded in a sing-song chant.

“I hope everypony has had a good holiday, and is ready to start another fun term of learning,” Mrs. Withers beamed at the class. “If everypony could get out their mathematics textbooks, we’ll start with some long division.”

A collective groan escaped from the foals as twenty-six hooves pulled their textbooks from out of their desks.

Ж

Cotton stared blankly at her textbook; mathematics was not a fun subject, no matter how exciting Mrs. Withers tried to make it. Concentration was hard enough, but something kept hitting her in the back of the head. Looking to the floor, she could see small bits of eraser beneath her seat. She could hear the two colts sniggering each time.

Maybe Twilight can help me understand; she’s super smart.

A particularly large piece of eraser hit her in the head, so she turned to glare at the culprits. Unfortunately, the second she turned her head towards them, another projectile caught her in the eye.

“Oww!” Cotton yelped as she brought her hoof up to rub at her eye.

“Is everything okay, Cotton?” Mrs. Withers asked.

“Yes, sorry Mrs. Withers,” Cotton answered. She could hear the two colts chortling behind her.

“Well, please don’t interrupt class. Now…”

The small pieces of rubber continued to hit her as the lesson went on; she did her best to ignore them, and the two who were throwing them. The number of bits thrown at her slowed as recess approached, though not because they were giving up, but that they had likely come close to running out of eraser.

“Okay class, can I have your attention please?” Mrs. Withers trotted from the board back to her desk. “Now, as some of you may not know, this term we will be having Family Appreciation Day. If everypony could take one of these forms home and have them signed…” Mrs. Withers was interrupted by guffawing at the rear of the classroom.

“Brick! Boulder! The two of you have been lollygagging all morning. You can both come up here and hand these out.” She placed the stack of papers on the desk. “Well, come on. Front and center!”

Two heavy-set colts walked to the front of the class. The larger of the two, Boulder, grasped half of the forms in his magic, the other colt tucking the rest under a wing. They walked down the isles, hoofing a note to every foal they passed, though both colts ignored Cotton’s desk.

She bit back her tears, remembering that Matron had told her bullies only want to get a reaction out of you. The two finished passing out the papers and returned the remaining sheet to the teacher’s desk.

“Thank you boys, you may return to your seats. Now…” As Mrs. Withers began to speak, the bell for recess rang. “Alright children, I’ll see you all after recess.”

Cotton held back while the rest of the students filed out of the classroom. “Excuse me, Mrs. Withers. Could I please have a form?”

Mrs. Withers looked up from her desk to see the shy filly before her and beamed. “Oh, Cotton, of course you can! I saw Mother Matron at the market last week, she told me all about it. I’m so happy for you.” She paused for a moment. “Didn’t Brick or Boulder give you a form?”

“No,” Cotton replied. Because they are big dumb fat stupid dumbheads, she thought. Out loud she responded, “Oh, they were probably just trying to not hurt my feelings.”

Mrs. Withers passed her a form, a frown on her face. She doubted very much that the two colts had kept the form from Cotton out of concern for her feelings. Matron had told her who Cotton’s new father was, and more importantly, what he was. She couldn’t wait! Having a dragon come in and meet the students would be an amazing learning experience for the foals; and perhaps while he was here it would wipe the smug grins off of the faces of those two little–

“Thanks, Mrs. Withers.” Cotton skipped back to her desk, putting the form in her saddlebag.

“You’re most welcome, Cotton. Now go have fun outside with your friends, and I’ll see you after recess.”

Ж

Cotton joined a few of her classmates by the merry-go-round.

“Fo you liff in the caffle?” the chubby little earth filly Sugar Sprinkles asked around the donut in her mouth. She put the box of sweets in front of the foals so they could share.

“That’s so coooooool!” Tesla bounced excitedly about. “Oh, have you seen Princess Twilight’s lab yet? I bet she has so many cool things!”

“My dad knows Sir Spike, he said he is really huge!” Starry Knight added. “He says he is the coolest dragon ever!”

“How awesome is it he’s your dad?” Aegis Ward levitated a donut and stuffed his face with it. “I bef he fighfs all kinf of monfers.”

Cotton giggled. “He actually works in a library.”

Aegis swallowed. “Fighting book monsters?” He blushed as all the other foals laughed.

“What are the princesses like?” Crimson Star asked.

“What do they eat?”

“They’re all so ni–”

“Well, what do we have here?” Boulder pushed through the group. “Hey Brick, check it out! Somepony left free donuts lying around.” He levitated the remaining treats, passing half to his partner-in-crime.

“Blergh!” Boulder spat the donut out, dropping his share on the ground. “These have to be the worst-tastin’ donuts ever.”

“Yeah,” Brick guffawed, dropping his share without even trying one. “Pretty bad that someone with a cutie mark for making donuts can’t even do that.”

Boulder turned a mean eye “Don’t know how you got so pudgy, didn’t think nopony could eat this junk.”

The two bullies hoofbumped, as Sugar Sprinkles teared up. Crimson held Sugar’s hoof, while Cotton draped a wing over the filly’s back. “Don’t listen to them,” Crimson whispered. “Your cooking is always really, really good.”

“Leave us alone!” Aegis stood up to the bullies.

Starry stood next to Aegis. “Yeah, why don’t you just go away?”

“Yeah? Are you two going to make us?” Boulder pushed Aegis to the ground as Brick moved up next to his partner. “Look Brick. These scrawny little dirt-ponies think they can tell us what to do.”

“Don’t call us dirt-ponies!” Aegis yelled, getting back to his hooves. Before he could get up, Brick had pushed the foal down again.

“Hey Boulder, Aegis is in the dirt, where he belongs.”

“Leave us alone you big stupid-heads!” Tesla yelled. “Or Cotton’s dad will eat you up!”

The two bullies guffawed. “He’ll eat us up?”

“Yeah!” she continued. “He’s a big scary dragon, and will eat you both up in one bite!”

“All that magic’s got to your brain, Sparky.” Boulder snarled at her. “Toastie doesn’t have a dad.”

“She does too!” Starry helped Aegis to his hooves. “My dad knows him and he is a big scary dragon so you better leave us alone.”

Boulder and Brick stopped, looking at each other in confusion. A wicked grin crossed Boulder’s muzzle. “I guess that makes sense. No pony would ever want to adopt that toasted marshmallow!”

“Probably chose you so he doesn’t have to cook you later,” Brick laughed, holding up his hoof to Boulder.

“Nice…” Boulder bumped hooves. “… burn!”

Cotton burst into tears, as Crimson and Sugar hugged her.

The two bullies laughed, until Aegis reared up and struck Boulder across the muzzle. Brick pounced on Aegis, holding him down while Boulder raised his hoof to strike. Before the blow could land, Starry jumped forward and toppled the unicorn.

As the four colts fought, Tesla channeled mana into her horn, forming a small storm cloud above the fight. “No pony calls me Sparky!” she yelled, as small forks of lightning arced off the cloud, zapping the bullies on the croups.

“You five stop right now!” Mrs. Withers stormed across the yard. “What on earth are you ponies… Tesla! Dispell that cloud, now!

“What in Celestia’s name has gotten into you children? I want the five of you to march inside right now!” Mrs. Withers turned to the crying foals. Kneeling to face them, she asked, “Are you three alright? Can you tell me what happened?”

Cotton was wailing, and Sugar was still quite teary.

Crimson answered for the fillies. “Brick and Boulder were being mean to Cotton and Sugar, Mrs. Withers. Boulder called Sugar… ummm big, and said she was a bad cook; then Brick said Cotton’s dad was going to eat her. And they also dropped Sugar’s donuts on the ground.”

Mrs. Withers bit her tongue, silently swearing at the two foals.

“A-and Boulder called Aegis and Starry…” Sugar added, between sobs. The final words were spoken through clenched teeth. “… dirt-ponies.”

The teacher took in two calming breaths, then smiled at the foals. “Don’t listen to them, children. Sugar, you are a wonderful little chef; the cookies you gave me on the last day of term got me all through the holidays. And Cotton, don’t let them get to you. Mother Matron told me all about Sir Spike, and he sounds like a wonderful dad. You are very lucky to have him, okay?

“Now, why don’t the three of you enjoy the rest of your recess? Hmm?”

“C-can Starry and Aegis come back and play?” Sugar asked.

“And Tesla, too?” Cotton added, her crying finally subsiding.

“I’m sorry, my little ponies. Even if they were standing up to bullies, they shouldn’t have gotten into that fight. If something like this happens again, you should always come and get me, or another teacher. Okay?”

The three foals turned back to the merry-go-round, and Mrs. Withers walked back to the school building.

Ж

The remainder of the day was uneventful, aside from the scowls from Boulder and Brick, and the fact that three of her friends spent their lunch in detention. She waited alone for Spike to arrive.

“Spike!” Cotton bounded towards the dragon as he landed. He was holding one claw aloft, carrying a small basket.

“Hey, Cotton.” He gently nuzzled the filly. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“Mmmm,” Cotton mumbled, not wanting to burden Spike with her bully problems.

“Ready?” He lifted her onto his shoulder, where she gripped onto his dorsal plates. “Okay, hold on tight.”

They flew through the air, Spike circling the city, searching for somewhere to land. To the south he spied what he was searching for. He descended towards a small park just outside the lower Canterlot Market district.

Cotton was surprised when they landed in the park; nopony seemed shocked to see the dragon land. If anything, most ponies seemed to be waving to Spike as they went about their day.

“Spike? Hey, Spike! Spike!” An earth pony teen with a vivid arctic-blue mane trotted over to the pair. “Hey, Spike. Check it out, I got my cutie mark!” He twisted his body to show the dragon his new cutie mark, a quill with a cloud of sparkles coming from the tip.

“That’s great, Dreamweaver! So what does that mean your special talent is?” Spike chuckled, as he suspected he knew what Dream’s talent was. Most adults tended to be able to pick up on a young pony’s special talent long before they knew for themselves.

“Writing stories!” Dreamweaver sat on the grass to continue his tale. “I was telling Steel Masque a bedtime story, because Mom and Dad were busy, and–”

Dreamweaver stopped his story short as Spike helped Cotton off of his back. As soon as she was on the ground, she shuffled behind Spike’s forearm, hiding from the unknown colt.

Spike craned his neck to look at the little filly. “Cotton, I’d like to introduce you to Dreamweaver. His family lives above the shop next to my wife’s old boutique. Come out and say hello.”

Cotton shuffled forward, keeping her right side pressed against the dragon, dipping her head so her mane covered her scars. “Ummm, hello.”

Spike turned to the young colt. “Dreamweaver, this is m– Cotton Candy.”

“Hiya, Cotton!” Dreamweaver thrust his hoof forward, but Cotton shied away. “So, uhh, what are you two doing here today?”

Cotton stared up at Spike, not actually knowing what they were doing there; she thought they were going straight home after school. Spike lifted the basket, getting their attention.

“I thought I’d see if Cotton wanted help with her homework. And what better place than in the park?” Spike pulled back the blanket covering the basket, revealing an assortment of fruits and muffins, and some juice boxes. “With plenty of brain-food to help her think. Cotton, would you mind if Dreamweaver joins us?”

“It’s okay,” Cotton mumbled.

“Dreamweaver, why don’t you go get your homework and come join us? I can help you too, if you want.”

“Yeah! I’ll be right back.” Dreamweaver galloped back to his home to collect his homework.

Spike set the blanket under a willow tree, laying out food he’d prepared for the picnic. Cotton opened her saddlebag and pulled out her homework. Dreamweaver returned to find Spike curled around the blanket chewing on an emerald,  with Cotton picking on a muffin.

Cotton kept her right side near Spike, leaning against the dragon. He would have found it endearing, that she wanted to be this close to him, had he not known she was just trying to hide her scars. Dreamweaver, for his part, paid little to no attention to them, only stealing a glance every now and then.

“So what are you working on, Cotton?” Dreamweaver broke the silence, obviously bored with his own homework.

“Long division,” she muttered around the quill in her mouth.

“Urgh, that’s so boring.” He let out a loud huff. “I hate math; it’s like…” He turned with a grin to Spike. “…The. Worst. Possible. Thing.”

Spike chuckled, ruffling the colt’s mane.

“W-what are you working on?” Cotton asked, looking up from her work.

“I’m writing a story for my Creative Equestrian class. It’s about a secret society of knights who keep Equestria safe from the monsters of Tartarus.”

“And I bet one of them is a dragon, am I right?” Spike chuckled. It sounded very similar to a story he’d told the colt when he was younger.

Dreamweaver grinned, replying with a very non-committal ‘maybe’.

“C-can I hear it?” Cotton asked nervously.

Spike raised an eyebrow towards the colt. “There’s nothing untoward in the story, is there?”

Dreamweaver smiled, shaking his head. “No, Sir!”

“Well then, noble minstrel, spin us your tale!”

Cotton sidled up next to Spike, leaning on his shoulder. With a bow and a flourish, Dreamweaver began his tale.

“T’was a dark an’ stormy eve…”

Ж

Spike returned to the castle later that evening, Cotton wrapped in a makeshift sling around his neck. Lying against the warmth of Spike’s side, she had fallen asleep through Dreamweaver’s masterful tale.

Spike alighted in the gardens of the castle, helping Cotton out of the sling. They made their way inside, the filly stumbling on her hooves in front of him.

“You ready for bed, Cotton?” Spike whispered.

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled, swaying from side to side. He led her to her bedroom, helping her into bed as best he could, despite not being able to fit in the room. He pulled her covers over her, and stacked her saddlebags by the door.

“Goodnight, Cotton,” he whispered as he extracted his head from the room. “May Luna bless you with pleasant dreams.”

Ж

Cotton awoke in the dark, snuggled in her warm comforter. Looking out the window, she could see the beautiful royal gardens outside lit by gentle moonlight. The last thing she could recall was being in the park with Spike and Dreamweaver. Searching her room, she spied her saddlebags by the door.

Oh no! I didn’t ask Spike about the form!

She crawled out of the warm bed, and put on her slippers. Rummaging through her bags, she found the form, and crept out into the hall.

Spike’s room was just down the hall from her own room. She knocked on the door but got no response. Listening through the thick wooden doors, she could hear the scratching of quill on paper. Satisfied he was still awake, she pushed open the doors.

Ж

Spike grumbled as he responded to Papyrus’ letter. The Manehattan Public Library had lost three of the rare Clover the Clever scrolls on loan from the Royal Canterlot Archives. As chief librarian, Papyrus was correct in sending the news to Spike.

He placed the quill back into the inkwell, ready for the next letter. Rolling the letter back up and sealing it with wax, he breathed a light flame across the scroll. Trusting it to its destination, he picked up the quill to write the next letter, but was interrupted by a piercing scream.

Ж

Cotton screamed as the cloud of green flame swept towards her. She turned back into the hall, screaming as she ran.

Spike dropped the quill and parchment, rushing for the door. “Cotton, wait!” He called as he clambered through the hallway after her. “Wait up, it’s okay.” He cursed himself for his size. He cursed the castle for being so Celestia-damned small. He cursed himself for using fire magic around his would-be daughter.

The flame followed Cotton as she galloped for the door to the gardens, but the slippers on her hooves continually failed to get any purchase on the marble floors. The encroaching flame was gaining on her; she continued to run, tears streaming from her eyes. Cotton burst through the door, screaming as the flames blew through her. Pins of static flicked across her body as the cloud passed through her into the night.

Two bat-winged noctus ponies stood guard on either side of the door. Cotton galloped passed them, spread her wings, and flew into the garden before either could respond.

“Cotton, wait!” the dragon yelled, hurtling through the door. Turning to the noctii, he shouted, “Nightshade, go get Princess Twilight, now! Anathem, you’re with me. We have to find her!”

Cotton Candy landed on the grass where she and Luna had played a week earlier. She looked to the sky, and could see Spike circling, calling her name; he sounded so angry. Cotton moved over to a small stone bench and crawled underneath it.

She lowered her face to her hooves, and cried softly.

Chapter Five - Trial and Error (Part two)

“Cotton!” the dragon roared as he circled the gardens. A magenta aura engulfed him and he was pulled to the ground.

“Spike!” Twilight barked as he landed heavily upon the cobblestone. The two noctii guards were standing at her side. “Are you trying to wake all of Canterlot?”

“Twilight, Cotton!” Spike panicked, desperately trying to escape the Princess’ magical grasp and take to the air again.

“Spike, calm down!” Twilight could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, pulsing through her aura like the beat of griffon war-drums. “Breathe, Spike! You’re going to hurt yourself. Tell me what happened.”

“Cotton…” he gasped. “Letter… fire… ran… garden.”

“Got it! Stay here Spike— I’ll find her!” Twilight let go of her magical grasp on him and shot into the air.

Closing her eyes, Twilight thought of all the clothing she and her fellow princesses had bought the filly. Casting multiple finding spells, she could sense the direction of each item. Four dresses and two cloaks still hung in their armoire. One set of slippers was still in the room, the other set scattered throughout the garden.

There!

Twilight felt a small tug in the direction of the silk pajamas Luna had gotten for the filly. She followed the trail, which lead to a small part of the garden where the three Princesses and Spike would often spend time together. This was the one place where they could get away from the world, away from the stresses of leadership, and just be a family.

Twilight alighted the grass softly, her eyes finding the shivering foal beneath a stone bench.

“Cotton?” she whispered, not wanting to frighten the child any further. “Cotton, it’s me, Auntie Twilight. Are you okay?”

The crying subsided; Cotton had evidently stopped breathing, withdrawing further into the shelter of the stone bench.

“It’s okay, Cotton. Please come out.”

Cotton sniffled. “I'm sorry.” She crawled out from underneath the bench.

“It's alright, Cotton.” Twilight ignored the torn, muddied state of Cotton's pajamas; she drew the filly into a tight hug, cradling her in her forearms. She ignored the mud and mucus being rubbed into her coat, and let the filly cry.

“Let’s get you inside, hmm?” Twilight asked, as she levitated Cotton onto her back. “We’ll get you all cleaned and warmed up, okay?”

They trotted through the garden, both filly and mare silent. Twilight was unsure what to say, regretting not having read up on pyrophobia, or any books on foal psychology. She had her work cut out for her in the morning.

Ж

“Cotton!” Spike all but roared as Twilight exited the garden. He couldn’t help but wince as they approached, Cotton burying her face in Twilight’s mane. Twilight was whispering soothing words of comfort. Spike could see Cotton clearly as Twilight stopped in front of him; the filly was quivering, doing her best to hide from him.

“I’ll take her inside and get her bathed,” Twilight offered, a sad look on her face as she spoke.

“Sure…” Spike hoped the bitterness could not be heard in his voice. “Go ahead, I’ll be inside in a minute.” He watched in silence as Twilight took Cotton back indoors.

Ж

Twilight wrapped the large woolen towel around Cotton, drying her mane and coat. Cotton was expectedly quiet, despite Twilight’s attempts to get the filly to open up. Twilight threw the damp towel into the hamper, and led Cotton out of the bathroom.

“Is everything alright?” Luna walked down the corridors towards them. “Our guards informed Us of a commotion in the gardens tonight.”

“Cotton had a little scare. Come on, Cotton; let’s get you tucked into bed.” Luna accompanied Twilight as they walked the foal through the corridors to her bedroom. When they entered, Twilight levitated Cotton onto the bed, tucking her in.

“Do you want us to stay until you fall asleep?” Twilight offered.

Cotton nodded. Once the filly was comfortable, Luna climbed onto the bed and rested her chin atop Cotton’s head, Twilight standing at the door.

“If you want to talk to me about what happened,” Luna whispered.

Cotton shook her head vigorously. “I’ll be good.”

“Well, whenever you are ready. We will always be here for you.” Luna smiled, not wanting to push Cotton. “Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Y—Yes please,” Cotton answered, turning and burying her muzzle in Luna’s mane.

Luna sang softly, letting the filly cry as she needed.

♪Come little Cotton,

I'll take thee away,

Into a land of enchantment,

Come little Cotton,

The times come to play,

Here in my garden of shadows.♫

Ж

Twilight bid Luna goodnight, then walked towards Spike’s chamber. Pushing open his door, she found the dragon pacing the length of his room.

“Luna and I have seen to Cotton,” Twilight told him, making her presence known. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Am I okay?” he laughed bitterly. “Am I okay?”

“Spike, please,” Twilight begged, “please talk to me. What happened?”

Spike picked up the oversized sheets of paper he had been working on. Ink had spilled across them and was seeping into the rugs on the floor. “Just doing a little late-night work, burning —” he sneered as the faux pax left his lips “— the midnight oil, as it were.” He crumpled the sheets and tossed them aside, continuing his pacing.

“Spike, please. Calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? How can I calm down, Twilight?” Tears formed in his eyes. “How could I have been so stupid? I’m eighty-four years old, I’ve got numerous doctorates; I should have been smarter than this!”

“Spike, what happened was an accident,” Twilight tried to reassure him. “Just an acciden—”

“No, it wasn’t an accident; it was a mistake,” he interrupted. “This whole thing has been a mistake. A stupid mistake.”

“You don’t mean that, Spike.”

“She lost everypony important to her in a Tartarus-damned fire, Twilight. A fire.” Spike stopped his pacing, turning towards his sister. “I’m a dragon, Twilight. A bloody *dragon!* How could I have been so…” Spike turned, balling up his claw and slammed his fist into the wall. “… SO STUPID‽”

“We’ve just gotten your daughter to sleep, Spike.” Twilight rapidly cast a sound barrier around the room. “Rein this in, Spike!” Twilight raised her voice. “You should know better than to act out of anger.”

Spike unclenched his fist. “You’re right,” he sighed.

“See, Spike? You’re better than this.”

Spike collapsed, his tears overwhelming him. “Evidently, Twilight, I’m not better than this.”

Twilight crossed the room as fast as she could, wrapping her wings around his snout. “I remember when I used to be able to hold you in my hooves alone; now look at us,” she chuckled as she rubbed her cheek against his. “Don’t give up on her yet, Spike. Don’t give up on yourself, either; you’re a good dragon, and a good pony.”

Ж

“…gon!”

Cotton awoke to a shout. She looked around her room finding herself alone; Luna and Twilight must have left after she’d fallen asleep.

A loud rumble startled her, followed by a shout heard through the hall. “SO STUPID!”

Cotton covered her head with a pillow. “Please don’t hate me, Spike. I’ll be a good filly, I promise,” she cried softly into her bedsheets.

Ж

Spike saw Twilight to his door, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Twilight.”

“Goodnight, Spike.” Twilight gave Spike a peck on his cheek. “Get some sleep, we’ll talk through this in the morning.”

Closing the door, a sheet of paper flitted to the ground.

What’s this? he asked himself, picking up the small paper. Something Twilight dropped?

Delicately holding the piece of paper in his claw, he made his way to the center of the room. Being far too late to have Papyrus enchant it for him, he slipped on his reading glasses.

The paper looked to be a form from Cotton’s school. Probably what Cotton came to my room for.

“Family… appreciation day?”

He put the paper down, along with his glasses, and rolled onto his side. Any lift in his mood Twilight had helped him achieve had dissipated upon reading those words.

“Oh, Twilight… what have I done?”

Ж

“Please Cotton, I am very tired,” the old mare said wearily to the filly. “The other children need me right now. Play in the corner quietly, I’ll come and talk with you soon.”

Cotton sat in the corner, looking at the test she had gotten back from Mrs. Withers. She had been so proud to get a ‘B’ on her test. Cotton slipped the test back into her saddlebag.

“It’s okay,” she sniffled, tears dripping down her cheeks. “I’ll be a good filly.”

“I’ll be a good filly.”

“…be a good filly.” Cotton awoke, tangled in her duvet. She had lost her pillows sometime during the night, finding them on the floor. Her sheet was wet and the fur on her face was matted and scratchy.

Cotton opened the door to the main hall and made her way to the bathroom. Looking at the disheveled reflection in the mirror, she cleaned herself up as best she could. Seeing her own reflection, scars crossing her face, she held her tears in.

No! I am a good filly. I won’t cry.

Cotton gave her wings a cursory preen; Mother Matron would be very disappointed in her if she didn’t take care of herself.

I will be a good filly.

Finishing with her ablutions, she made her way to the kitchens. On the way, she was greeted by Sergeant Novamac.

“G’morning there, Cotton,” he greeted cheerfully. “Y’all gettin’ ready for school? Ah’m supposed ta take ya when yer ready.”

“Yes, sir.” Cotton nodded as she entered the kitchen. She found her lunch pail washed and ready on the counter.

“Did ya need a hoof gettin’ yer lunch ready?”

“No, sir.” Cotton clumsily made a sandwich, wrapping it in wax paper when she was done. She placed the sandwich and two apples in her lunch pail, then closed the lid.

“Y’all gunna take somethin’ ta drink?”

“Oh, yeah,” Cotton whispered, embarrassed. She made her way to the cooler box, pulling out a juicebox and placing it in her lunch pail.

Grabbing the handle of her lunch pail in her mouth, she muttered, “‘m ready, fir.”

Ж

“G’morning, Sir!” Novamac saluted Spike as the dragon exited his room.

“Good morning, Sergeant.” Noticing Cotton hiding behind Novamac, he added, “And good morning to you as well, Cotton. All ready for school?”

“Yes, sir,” the filly answered, eyes affixed to the floor.

“Did you want me to take you to school this morning?” Spike asked, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed between them.

“No, it’s okay, Sir. I'm okay.”

“Very well,” Spike answered, a little more curtly than he’d intended. He nodded to Novamac, who remained silent during the exchange. “Sergeant.”

Spike watched as Novamac led the filly down the corridor to the exit.

“Have a nice day at school,” he whispered, as the door closed behind Cotton.

Ж

“What’s the matter, Midnight Snack? Baby having a wittle cwy in the corner?”

Cotton had opted to find a quiet place to sit by herself during lunch. Brick and Boulder had not respected her wish, though that was hardly to be expected.

“Leave me alone.”

“What are you gunna do if we don’t?” Brick laughed. “Gunna get your ‘big scary dad’ to stop us?”

Cotton flinched. She had hoped that Brick and Boulder would just let her be, but both colts had noticed her reaction.

“Well, Brick,” Boulder sneered. “What do you know? Sounds like somepony doesn’t want their Toasted Marshmallow anymore.”

Brick guffawed. “What happened? He's finally realised you’re a little freak?”

“Go away,” Cotton muttered, trying to suppress the shaking in her hooves.

Boulder pushed Cotton to the ground. “Make me!”

Cotton was always a pushover, she knew it; it was one of the reasons Brick and Boulder picked on her. She suspected Mother Matron’s advice of ‘just ignore them and they’d go away’ was wrong— she had ignored them for years, and they would never let up, never let her be.

Cotton got to her hooves and lunged at them with surprising speed, biting and kicking anything she could.

Ж

“I am sorry I had to call you away from your work, Sir Spike.” Mrs. Withers sat in her office chair. “And I’m very sorry we couldn’t accommodate you better.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Withers.” Spike sat in the yard, his neck stretched through the open window of her second-floor office. “When you are my size, you learn to adapt.”

“I suppose I can’t offer you a cup of tea either, can I?” the teacher asked.

“Not unless you have a bucket, and are willing to hold it for me,” Spike chuckled. “And I know not many ponies would be keen on being that close to a dragon’s maw.”

Both Mrs. Withers and Spike shared a laugh.

“I must say, you are very pleasant company, Sir Spike. It is a shame that our first meeting should be over something such as this.

“Cotton got into a fight with two of her classmates today. Now, while I am sure they provoked the situation, the three of them have been very tight-lipped about what has happened.

“What concerns me is that Cotton is not usually violent. Has something happened at home? In addition to this fight, she has seemed very upset throughout the day.”

Spike sighed. “Yes; sadly, something did happen at home last night. There was an… incident, and I’ve been trying to reach out to her, but to no avail. I will talk to her when we get home.”

“Thank you, Sir Spike. I hope our next meeting is more agreeable.”

Ж

Cotton watched from her spot under a tree as Spike withdrew his neck from the window, dropping back to all fours.

“Cotton, are you ready to go home?” Spike called to her, his expression unreadable.

“Yes, sir,” Cotton muttered, lifting her saddlebag onto her back and crossing the yard to meet him. He was silent as he helped her onto his back.

Aside from the sound of the wind in her ears, the flight home was completely silent. The silence continued when they landed by the castle, and Spike led Cotton down the corridor to her room.

“Did you want to talk about today?” Spike offered, as they got to the door to her room.

“No, sir. It’s okay.”

The dragon breathed a frustrated sigh. “Cotton, I don’t know what those two said, but you should never resort to violence.”

“They were picking on me, they always pick on me!” Cotton regretted her outburst the minute it left her lips.

“Even if that may be,” the dragon sighed again, “You shouldn’t respond with violence. Ignore them, or go tell your teacher. You’re a good filly, you know I am right. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay in your room for a bit; I want you to think about what yo—”

A good filly.

A good filly.

The words reverberated in Cotton’s ears. Anger seeped through her, and she stopped fighting her tears.

“I had to stand up for myself because you weren’t there to do it for me!” Cotton pushed through the door to her room and slammed it shut before Spike could respond.

She screamed. She screamed, and kicked, and bit and tore. Feathers from her pillows scattered the floor, furniture was toppled, and books were thrown from their shelves.

Cotton continued until she collapsed; her anger, pain and tears finally ran out.

Ж

Twilight knocked on Cotton’s door, a small tray of food levitating in front of her.

“Cotton, sweetie? It’s me, Twilight.” When there was no response, she opened the door.

Twilight held in a gasp when she saw the state of the room. She tried to not calculate the cost of the damage to the books torn and scattered across the floor. Huddled in a ball in the middle of the maelstrom was Cotton, sleeping fitfully on the floor. Twilight put Cotton’s dinner tray down on her study desk, and levitated the filly onto her bed, covering her with what sheets were left untouched.

“I’m sorry,” came a whisper from the bed.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Twilight asked.

Cotton didn’t respond.

“Okay, well, your dinner is here; I had the chef prepare you some soup.” Twilight opened the door, but turned back. “When you do want to talk about it, I am here.”

Ж

“I don’t know, Spike,” Twilight sighed, trying to comfort the dragon. “The books I’ve been reading today say you should not force a foal to talk about something when they are not ready. Just give it time.”

“But things are getting worse, Twi.” Spike lay on his back, staring at the high ceiling of his chamber. Thoughts of her last words drifted through his mind.

I had to stand up for myself because you weren’t there to do it for me!

“I keep making things worse.” Spike closed his eyes. Perhaps if he could not see the world, the world would not see him, and spare him the heartache he was going through at that moment.

Seconds later, he opened his eyes again, his futile attempt at controlling existence having failed. “How long will I keep hurting her, Twi?”

“You can’t keep blaming—”

“I can, Twi. It is my fault. Maybe I could have done something different tonight, but the whole reason we’re in this mess is because of last night. And last night is not something that I can change. I will always be a dragon, Twi. Always. I can’t change what I am.

“Maybe it would be better if she went back.” The words left an acrid taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to let her go, but Spike knew he had to do what was right, not give in to his own selfish desires.

“You don’t mean that!” Twilight gasped, tears welling in her eyes.

“I have to think about what is best for her. That is what being a parent is about, right?” He laughed bitterly. “She would be better off with a chance for a real family, and I think I’ve shown that I am not capable of giving her that.”

“Please,” Twilight begged. “Please, really think about this before you make any rash decisions.”

“I will think on it, Twi. But we can’t decide what would suit us, just because we want her around. If she is unhappy here, I don’t want her suffering because of my selfishness.”

Ж

Dear Mother Matron,

It is with my deepest regrets that I am writing to you. I fear I was unwise in my adoption of Cotton, not fully taking her past into account.

Two nights ago, Cotton came to my chambers whilst I was working. You may recall the way I correspond with my co-workers. I was sending one such letter when Cotton came to my door; while the ætheric flame could not harm her, Cotton was unaware of this fact.

Princess Twilight was able to find her after Cotton tried to run away. Since then, she has gotten into fights at her school, and she has withdrawn from all of us, and it is all my fault.

Cotton is very dear to me; she deserves a real family, not somepony like me. Please help her find somewhere she will be happy.

I am so very sorry.

Spike

Mother Matron sighed, putting the letter down. She had re-read the letter five times already, each time hoping there had been some form of misunderstanding; Cotton had seemed so happy on her previous visit.

“I am very sorry too, Sir Spike,” she said, closing the letter in her drawer.

Ж

Twilight did her best to hide her tears as she folded and levitated the clothing she and the other princesses had bought for Cotton into the little suitcase. How could this have all gone so wrong?

Cotton sat silently at the window overlooking the gardens. She tried to ignore the unbidden memories of playing hide-and-seek with the Princess of the Night, with Spike; the picnics with Princess Twilight and Princess Celestia.

The quiet walks through the grounds with Spike. Laying on the grass, listening to his stories.

That one short week had been like a dream, something she could never have imagined. But like all dreams, this one was coming to an end.

I tried to be a good filly. Why am I not good enough?

A rap on the door drew both Cotton and Twilight’s attention.

“The guards have informed me that Mother Matron has arrived,” Spike’s voice came through the closed door. Cotton had not seen him since Princess Twilight had told her she was going back to the orphanage.

I don’t know how I can behave better.

Twilight levitated the suitcase, and joined Spike out in the hall, Cotton following in silence, her eyes affixed to the floor.

The walk down the hall was… awkward; Cotton never looking up, and Spike only looking forward.

Cotton looked up at the doors, the two guards standing on either side of it. This was going to be the last time she saw these doors; the last time she saw these guards, and she never even knew their names.

Matron stood in front of a taxi, a sombre expression on her face. “Hi, Cotton.” She hugged the little filly. “Ready to come home?”

“I guess so,” Cotton mumbled.

Twilight helped pack Cotton’s suitcase into the back of the taxi. Spike stood on his hind quarters, looking away from the filly, trying desperately to hide his tears.

“You’re all packed,” Twilight sniffled, standing back next to Spike. “It was lovely meeting you, Cotton. I’m very sorry it didn’t work out.”

Cotton raised her eyes to look at the dragon that had almost been her father. She felt ashamed of herself; he couldn’t even look at her. Nothing would ever go right for the filly. She could never have anything, it would always be taken away from her.

No!

Cotton ran to Spike, wrapping her hooves around his broad ankle.

“Please, Spike! Please don’t send me back. I’ll be a good filly. I will be better. I won’t talk, I won’t be naughty. I’ll do anything. Please don’t send me away!”

Spike’s neck spun around so quick, it might well have caused a sonic rainboom. Tears flowed down his cheeks, and he backed away, bringing himself down to ground level with her.

“I didn’t want you to go away, Cotton. I—I thought you hated me. That you didn’t want to live with me anymore. You’ve been so unhappy.”

Cotton clung to his neck like it was a life-preserver. “Please don’t send me away. Please, I’ll be a good filly. I promise. I’ll do anything. Please don’t leave me.”

“You are a good filly, Cotton,” Spike blubbered as he spoke, rubbing his chin against the small pegasus, curling his neck around her in an embrace. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I always wanted you to stay here, I just didn’t want to force you. I just wanted you to be happy.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you yesterday, Cotton. Stay with me, and I will always be there for you. Always!”

Mother Matron approached the pair, tears in her own eyes. “Cotton, it looks like you can stay here after all, if you want.”

Cotton turned, tears streaming down but a wide smile on her face. “I do. I do want to live here, Mother Matron…

“I want to live with my Daddy.”

Chapter Six - This chapter is a blankflank (Part One)

“Are you excited?” Twilight called over the buffeting sound of the air.

“What?” Cotton shouted back, unable to hear the alicorn.

“Are you…” Twilight tried louder, before giving up. “Hmmm, maybe if I reverse the ninth sigil and…” she muttered as her horn glowed. “… there!”

The sound of the wind in their ears died as a shimmering dome surrounded the carriage. “I was asking, ‘Are you excited?’”

Cotton dropped to the floor of the carriage, covering her ears as Twilight’s shout reverberated and rebounded inside the shimmering dome. “Oww!”

“Oops, sorry.” Twilight looked sheepishly at the filly. She tried again, asking quieter. “Are you excited?”

Cotton got to her hooves again, nervously pawing at the ground. “I don’t know. What if they don’t like me?”

“Oh, Cotton. Of course they’ll like you. They’ll all love you, and you know how proud your dad is to be able to introduce you to all of our friends.” Twilight giggled, pulling the filly into a side-long wing hug. “And don’t you worry, Aunt Sweetie Belle and Auntie Twiley will be here with you. And you’ll finally get to meet your cousins, won’t that be exciting‽”

A deep cough in front of them interrupted their reverie.

“Oh, and your dad will be there too,” Twilight added looking toward her brother, embarrassed . “Sorry, Spike.”

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just the transportation,” he chuckled, the deep rumbling vibrating through the base of their carriage.

Luna was particularly miffed when Twilight had accepted Spike’s offer to transport them to the ‘family’ reunion, bemoaning the fact she was the only princess who had never gotten to ride a dragon anywhere (to her mind, the Empress of a Vassal State did not count). Sulking, she returned to her room with a ‘very well, be that way!’ before they left, having only given Cotton the mandatory five minute hug before departing.

Spike began their slow descent; the pegasus guards flanking Spike would likely not approve of his normal dead-drop from the sky. Rainbow had taught him that trick when he got his wings. Truthfully, with his daughter in the carriage harness strapped between his wings, he wasn’t keen on performing that maneuver either.

Oh, and there was a princess or somepony unimportant with his daughter, too. Whatever.

“We’re here!” Spike exclaimed, aiming them towards the currently empty eastern field. Running from the tree line were six foals, all looking to the sky, waving at the descending dragon.

The pegasus guard to Spike’s right broke formation and dropped to the ground, clearing the children away from the dragon’s landing area.

The second Spike touched the ground and tucked his wings back, the foals broke past the guard, rushing to meet the new arrivals. The fillies, of course, dashed towards the Princess as she helped Cotton out of the carriage. The colts were torn between the awesome, huge dragon and the guards with their cool spears and armor.

“Hello, my little ponies,” Twilight beamed at the foals as they jumped around. Cotton hid herself between Spike’s thick forelegs.

“Howdy, Princess!”

“Hey’a, Princess!”

“Hey Spike, when can you take me for a ride?”

“Oh my gosh! Who’s that? We have to have a Welcome-to-Ponyville Party!”

“Princess, did granny tell you I got my cutie mark?”

“Spike, can you like, blow a big fireball or something?”

“Pipe down, y’all, and give the Princess and Spike some room.” A familiar scarlet-gray stallion stepped out from the treeline, chastising the bouncing foals.

One of the pegasus guards stepped forward, offering a crisp salute. “Sir, I wasn’t informed you were going to be here today, Sir. Your orders?”

Novamac grinned, shooting a glance at the chuckling dragon. “Y’all know Ah’m a Ponyville stallion. Yer the CO for this visit, Sergeant. Ah’m just here visiting family. Ah got other soldiers ta keep in line today.”

He turned towards the fidgeting foals. “G’won, git back. Y’all got work to do, and Granny Bloom’ll tan yer hides if’n ya don’t get back to it.”

The group followed the energetic foals as they made their way to the old Sweet Apple Acres homestead. Cotton kept close to Spike as they walked.

“What’s your name?” A filly with a bright gold curly mane bounced backwards in front of Cotton, pushing her muzzle into Cotton’s face. “My name’s Pecan Pie. Do you like candy? Or cupcakes?”

Novamac grunted, “Pecan, what’ve Ah told ya ‘bout giv’n ponies their space?”

“That it’s for boring brothers who don’t know how to have fun?” Pecan giggled as she grabbed Cotton by the hooves. “You should come play with us!”

“Cotton, this hyperactive ball’a sugar’s mah little sister, Pecan.” He turned towards the bounding filly. “Now, Pecan, say ‘hi’ like a normal pony would.”

“Hi!” Pecan shrilled, pulling Cotton towards the group of foals so fast she left behind two filly-sized dust clouds behind them.

Twilight giggled as Spike let out a hearty laugh.

Ж

“Ah’m fine, Pa. Ah got Spike here ta help me carry the wood. You jus’ sit down ‘fore ya do yer back in ag’in.”

Spike’s eyes darted between the two stallions.

“Nnnope.” Big Mac scowled.

Even in his old age, he never lost the musculature he held in his youth. Pippin, his son, took more after his mother, and less after his dad, but the mulberry stallion still cut an imposing figure.

“Th’ doc said ya were ta take it easy for a few weeks,” Pippin argued. “An’ don’t matter how old Ah am, Ma’ll still tan mah hide if’n Ah let ya help. Ah ain’t gon’ argue with her fer the sake of yer pride!”

Whilst they were arguing, Spike had loaded the bulk of the wood into a cart and carefully crept away, hauling the wood as he went.

“Those two at it again?” a smartly-dressed unicorn stallion chuckled, approaching Spike.

“Mornin’ Dapper.” Spike smiled, a toothy grin across his face. “You heard them, I take it?”

“Those two are always at it,” Dapper laughed. “So anyway, I hear congratulations are in order. Where is your lovely daughter?”

“Pecan dragged her out to play, so they’re either out in the fields, or Pecan has set up an impromptu party somewhere. That wouldn’t be too bad, actually; Cotton does love her cakes.”

“I have no idea how Pippin has any energy left to argue with Uncle Mac with that little one running around.”

“Ever known an Apple to not be stubborn?” Spike chuckled. “How’s your mother-in-law doing? I haven’t seen her yet; she wasn’t inside when Twilight and I went to the house.”

“She’s been organising something for the ‘newest generation of Cutie Mark Crusaders.’” Dapper shuddered. “I fear to guess what that might be.”

“If I remember correctly, you were one of the ‘newest generation of Cutie Mark Crusaders,’ right?” Spike grinned, as they stopped and began unloading the wagon.

“As a foal, they were some of the greatest days of my life…” He smiled, reminiscing the memories of meeting his future wife. His features darkened as his voice dropped, “… but as a father, I lie awake at night, sweating. I am constantly haunted by night-terrors of foals covered in tree sap, storming through our store and destroying everything. Everything!”

Spike stared at the unicorn, unsure of what to say, until Dapper broke out into a grin, laughing.

“Okay, maybe they aren’t that bad. At least Applebloom and your Sister-in-law filter out the more ridiculous ideas.”

“Ridiculous ideas!” Spike guffawed. “Pippin, I was dealing with the crusaders before you were even a twinkle in your mom’s eye. You haven’t seen ridiculous, trust me!”

Ж

“Front and center, Crusaders!” the aged mare barked as she marched along the formation line of foals.

Cotton stood slack-jawed, watching the foals fidgeting as they sat in line in front of the old mare. Aunt Sweetie Belle was off to the side, a smile across her face, chatting with the strangest creature Cotton had ever seen. Sweetie Belle noticed Cotton watching her, and gave the filly a wink.

“Granny Bloom, Granny Bloom!” one of the foals was rocking on her hind quarters, forearm stretched high in the air to try and get the older mare’s attention.

“Crusader Katya, do you have something to say?” Granny Bloom barked, though Cotton noticed a smile tugging at the side of her mouth.

“Granny, we have a new perspective member for the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Katya’s voice coming out in an excited squeak as she rocked back and forth.

“Well, do we now?” Granny Bloom chuckled, turning towards Cotton. “I didn’t see ya there, young filly. Why don’t you come over here an’ introduce yerself.”

Cotton shied away, until Sweetie Belle came up beside her, gently nudging her towards the front of the group. Largo and Nocturne, the two foals who’d introduced themselves as her cousins earlier, cheered as Cotton and Sweetie Belle stood at the front of the group.

“Well, hello there young Cotton. Our Sweetie Belle’s told me all about ya. My name’s Applebloom, but you can call me Granny Bloom if you want.” Granny Bloom smiled, ruffling Cotton’s raspberry mane. “You ready to have some fun?”

Cotton nodded quietly.

“Well, y’all go sit down with yer cousins, and we’ll get started.”

“And cause a little chaos in the process!” the strange creature to the side shouted, a toothy grin plastered across his misshapened face.

“Oh hush, ya old goat!” Granny turned, poking a tongue out at the strange creature. Cotton’s eyes went wide when the creature crossed its mismatched arms and returned the gesture with his own serpentine tongue. She had never seen a goat that looked like that!

“Now, we’ve got a few activities planned toda–”

“I wanna get a hang-gliding cutie mark!” Largo yelled, interrupting Granny Bloom.

“Well… I don’t know about…”

The strange creature’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“We should totally get bungee jumping cutie marks!” Gala turned to an excited Holly. “Hey Cuz, do we still have that stretchy rope stuff?”

“Nope. But I bet Unca Discord could make all kinds of stretchy ropes,” Holly replied.

“Taffy would work well,” the strange creature said, casually examining his lion paw. Aunt Sweetie Belle chuckled, digging an elbow into the creature’s side.

“We wanna get bobsledding cutie marks!” the two colts, Topaz and Winter Gem, called out.

“B-Bobsledding?” Granny Bloom stuttered. “It’s th’ middle of summer! Ya can’t go bobsledding in summer.”

The other foals, all very keen on the new idea, turned wide, puppy dog eyes towards the strange creature.

“Oh, I am sure I could handle that with but the click of the claw,” he said, smiling as he pressed one eagle talon against another. It was only Granny Bloom’s scowl that stopped him.

“Sorry, children. Not today.” He frowned as he put his arm down. “I wasn’t really going to do it… probably. Besides, Discord only uses his powers for good now.”

“But why would makin’ it snow be bad?” Winter Gem, the youngest of the foals, asked.

“Because he won’t freeze my farm again if he knows what’s good for ‘im.”

Ж

Spike let out a chuckle as he heated yet another trough of water with a gentle flame. He had warned his daughter what he was doing, and while she stood behind him so that she couldn’t see, she was still excited to tell him about her day as he worked.

“That was so much fun!” Cotton bounced on the spot, her coat attached to her youngest cousin Nocturne’s by a liberal amount of tree sap.

“Our’s was the fastest,” Nocturne squeaked. “I still can’t believe we didn’t get box-karting cutie marks.”

“Okay you two, get in the trough and wash up. I’ve got five more of these things to heat up before lunch is served.” Spike planted a small kiss on his daughter’s forehead, and whispered, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Ж

The table was absolutely packed.

Cotton sat between her Auntie Twilight and the spot where her dad could lay his head. She could not believe the size of the meal spread before them; every possible dish that could be made from apples covered every square inch of the table.

Cotton’s mind was filled-to-burst with the names of everypony she’d been introduced to. She was excited to finally meet the remaining Elements of Harmony. The filly had read all about them in history class, and she could hardly believe the two old mares sitting at the table were the Pinkie Pie and Applejack.

Novamac was sitting next to Pecan Pie, trying very hard to ignore the faces his mother and grandmother were making at him. Something about the Royal Guards never smiling. He burst into laughter as his little sister started sneezing from the breadstick she had put up her nose. Pinkie Pie had joined in the laughter, while Pecan’s mother, Cherry Pie, scolded her daughter over the inappropriate use of bread-based products.

Discord, whose name she had finally learned, was sitting next to a smaller strange creature. She looked like a mix of a pony and a whatever-he-was. She had a dragon’s tail, a lizard’s leg and a goat’s leg as her back legs, normal pony forearms and hooves, and two pegasus wings on her back. She had the prettiest yellow coat and a nice light-pink mane. Sitting next to her was a gruff-looking earth pony stallion, with a charcoal gray coat, wearing a grey tweed flat-cap.

Applejack was sitting next to her brother, Big Macintosh. Dozing quietly next to him was his wife; she’d been a teacher at the school Aunt Sweetie Belle and Granny Bloom had gone to. Big Mac was arguing with a stallion about wood cutting, while Cherry Pie cuddled next to him.

Taking up nearly an entire side of the table themselves were Granny Bloom’s family. Her two sons and her daughter, their partners, and the eight foals that made up her grandchildren. Cotton could barely remember all of their names, and those were just the few she had met. The older grandchildren had stayed near the house, along with her cousin Allegrezza, while Cotton and the others had played out in the fields.

Allegrezza, Largo and Nocturne were sitting with Aunt Sweetie and Uncle Shady. They weren’t really her cousins; her actual cousin, Medley Belle and her husband were away on a cruise. They had left their children with her Aunt Sweetie Belle and Uncle Shady. Spike had told her she could call the three foals her cousins, because first-cousins-once-removed was a mouthful for even a dragon to say all the time, and he had a pretty huge mouth.

Applejack stood up, clinking a spoon against a glass.

“Ah’d like ta thank y’all for comin’ to our family reunion. Seems like ev’ry year these things come’n go quicker each time.” She beamed at the table. “While not all o’ us are blood kin, Ah can honestly say Ah couldn’t ask fer a better family. With that out of the way…” Applejack pause to take a breath. “Soup’s on, everypony!”

“Soup’s on!” the rest of the party echoed in chorus.

The meal descended into chaos as conversations between ponies picked up again while they ate.

“So when’re y’all gunna find a nice mare, settle down, an’ come back ta the farm?” Pippin asked, turning his gaze toward his son, Novamac. Cherry Pie stopped fussing over her daughter and also focused her attention on Novamac.

“Ah jus’ got promoted, and Ah still got three years of mah commission t’ go. Ah ain’t goin’ ta leave yet, not while th’ Princess’ still need me,” Novamac huffed, trying to avoid the gaze of his parents.

Twilight chortled. “Mmm, and you don’t have to worry about him finding a mare.” Novamac turned towards the Princess, a pleading look in his face. “He’s been getting rather close to Private Nightshade.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Reeeeeeally?” he asked, with a predatory grin. “And here I was believing the two of you when you said you were patrolling the gardens for potential intruders. This is a very serious breach of protocol!”

“Ah was!” Novamac put his hoof down. “Ah would never do somethin’ like that when on duty.”

“So then off duty?” Cherry Pie asked, matching Spike’s grin. “Do tell us about this mare you’ve been hiding from your dear mother.” Her lip quivered as she spoke the last two words.

“Uhhh, uhhh,” Novamac stammered. He slumped his head in defeat. “We’ve only been goin’ out a few weeks, Ma. Ah was gunna introduce ya soon, Ah promise. Ah jus’ wanna make sure she’s the right one.”

Cherry Pie pulled her son into a bone-crushing hug, Twilight and Spike laughing at the flailing guardspony.

“Wait!” Cotton gasped, wide eyed. “Novamac’s going out with Nightshade?” She swooned. “She’s so pretty! I really like her wings!”

“A pegasus, eh son?” Pippin nudged his son in the ribs. “Takin’ after yer great-aunt AJ?”

“Who’s takin’ after th’ what now?” Applejack asked across the table.

“M’boy’s takin’ after ya, Auntie,” Pippin responded to her question, laughing raucously. “Boy’s gone an’ nabbed himself a pretty little cloudbeater!”

Novamac’s already scarlet-gray coat darkened as his cheeks flushed.

“Nightshade isn’t a pegasus; she’s a bat-pony!” Cotton piped in. Novamac’s blush became even more pronounced.

“They’re called Noctis,” Twilight corrected Cotton, “or Noctii if you are referring to them in plural. Bat-pony is a colloquial name for them, and add to that, it’s kind of a rude name for them too.”

“Oh, okay,” Cotton responded with a smile. “She’s still pretty!”

Spike bit his tongue trying to hold back the laughter as Novamac sank in his chair under the shocked gaze of his parents.

“Well good on y’all!” Applejack added. “Ah just ‘bout reckon noctises—”

“Noctii,” Twilight corrected.

“Err, yeah, noctii… would be about the only blood-line left we don’t have in the apple family tree. So when’s th’ weddin’?”

Spike gave up his fight against laughter as Cotton and Pecan Pie started singing ‘Novamac and Nightshade sitting in a tree.’

The sound of a loud gong caught everyone’s attention. Discord was standing at the head of the table, a large padded stick in his lion paw, a brass gong suspended by ropes from his talons.

“Daaaaaad,” the half-pony-whatever-she-was moaned. “Do you have to be so loud?”

“What kind of silly question is that?” Discord asked, flicking the gong over his shoulder like a frisbee, then tossing the padded stick into his mouth. “Hmmm, needs more hot sauce.

“I wanted to get everypony’s attention, because my little Eris and her husband have some wonderful news to share.”

Everypony turned to the pair, the gray pony put a gentle hoof on Eris’ own. “Everypony, as you all know, Stonecutter and I have wanted to have a foal for a few years now. You all know the difficulties we’ve had in trying…” Tears came to her eyes. “… we got back from the doctor a few weeks ago. It’s official; I’m going to be a momma!”

The table broke into cheers, everypony congratulating the couple, as well as the grandfather-to-be.

“Ya know this’ll mean we can finally get revenge, you old goat!” Granny Bloom chortled.

“Mmmhmm,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “Think of all the fun crusades we could take your grandchild on.”

“My grandchild will be born of near one-quarter pure chaos.” Discord floated over his daughter’s shoulder. Waving a paw over her belly, he produced a target. “Do your worst!”

The two elder mares looked at each other with an evil grin.

“Cutie Mark Accountancy Crusaders, yay!” they chorused.

“No!” Discord went white, from antler to tail. “You wouldn’t!”

“What’s wrong with accountancy?” one of Applebloom’s daughter-in-laws asked. “Without a good accountant, this farm wouldn’t be anywhere near as successful as it is.”

Discord wasn’t listening; he’d already transformed into a bouquet of flowers and a tombstone that read, ‘Here lies Discord, Spirit of Chaos. Died of Boredom.’

Chapter Seven - This chapter is a blankflank (Part Two)

Tired, Cotton had decided to stay with Spike when the other foals went back to play. Allegrezza, along with Granny Bloom’s older grandchildren, Bellflower and Fallawater, stayed at the table as well; the three teenagers were sitting together talking amongst themselves. Cotton rested against her father’s cheek.

Everypony went silent when Big Mac stood and coughed.

“Ah thank y’all fer comin’ here today,” Big Mac spoke, his voice quiet and sombre. “Now if we can, we’ll take the time to remember our family that’s no longer with us.”

“Ah remember Granny,” Applebloom started. “Ah remember the first time she taught me ta make zap-apple jam.”

“Granny always took care of us,” Applejack added. “She took care of all of us, even after Ma and Pa passed on.”

“She always made the best apple pies.” Pinkie Pie smiled. “And she always looked after me, too.”

“I still remember her extorting gems out of me,” Spike chuckled. “What?” he asked, as everypony turned to look at him with slight indignation. He grinned wide. “Well, she did, but that didn’t stop her from being the great old mare she was!”

Everypony chuckled.

“To Granny Smith.” Big Mac raised his cider mug.

“To Granny Smith,” the crowd chorused, lifting their own mugs.

“Ah wish Ma and Pa could see us now.” Applejack turned, nodding to Big Mac.

“Eeyup. Ah think they’d be real proud of th’ family we’ve raised.”

As the Apple family remembered those they’d lost, Cotton fidgeted next to Spike.

“You okay, sweetie?” he asked, nudging her with his cheek.

“Why is everypony talking about ponies… umm, no longer around?” Cotton asked, rubbing her forearms with her hooves.

Spike unfolded and extended a wing towards the filly. “Well, we share the memories of those ponies who have left us. We remember the good times, and the bad. While they are still in our hearts, they’ll never truly be gone.”

Cotton sniffled.

“D-did you want to talk about your parents?” Spike asked, nervously.

“N-no!” Cotton burst out. “You’re my daddy. I have you now.”

Spike smiled, rubbing his cheek against his daughter. “Cotton, I will always be your daddy, but I didn’t replace them. It’s still okay to talk about your parents, if you want.”

“Is… is that really okay?”

“Of course it is.”

A round of laughter brought their attention back to the speaker. “… and that’s when that featherbrain crashed right into mah window!” Applejack guffawed. “Scared th’ dickens outta me!” She paused for a minute. “Ah still miss ya, sugarcube.”

“To Rainbow Dash,” Twilight cheered, as she lifted her cider mug.

“To Rainbow Dash,” the others echoed.

Eris broke the silence. “I wish my mother could be here, so we could share with her our wonderful news.” Discord laid his paw gently on her shoulder. “She would have been so happy to have been a grandmother—”

Discord pulled his daughter into a hug as she broke down in tears. “‘Shy is happy for you, for us, no matter where she is now.

“If it weren’t for my beloved wife, I’d never have learned the…” Discord gagged, ever so slightly, “magic of friendship. That still sounds so corny.” The older ponies at the table chuckled. “But she taught me so much more; she showed me the difference between being entertained… and being happy. Without her, I would not have you all. My friends, and my family.”

Twilight levitated a small hoofkerchief, dabbing the tears away from her eye.

“To Fluttershy,” Stonecutter raised his mug. “Watch down on our foal for us.”

“To Fluttershy,” the group murmured.

“Rarity was my childhood crush,” Spike started. “She was a wonderful, beautiful mare, generous to a fault. It was a dream come true when she returned my affections, and that wonderful dream lasted for nearly fifty years.”

“She was the best big sister a pony could ask for,” Sweetie Belle added, smiling as she looked at Spike. “She brought so much beauty into the world, giving so much of herself to others, great and small.”

“To Rarity,” Shady lifted his mug.

“To Rarity.”

“I-I was very young when my mom and dad d-died.” Everypony turned to see the quivering filly who had spoken up. “I-I don’t have a lot of memories of them, but I remember m-my mommy used to sing for me at bedtime. A-and my dad…” She looked nervously to Spike, who nodded for her to continue, a sad smile on his face. “M-my dad used to play blocks with me when he got home from work.

“I love you, mom and dad.” Tears fell from Cotton’s eyes. Spike gently laid his neck over her back in a hug.

“To Roq Candy, and Almond Joy.” Spike raised his mug.

“To Roq Candy, and Almond Joy,” the others repeated.

As Applebloom and Sweetie Belle began regaling tales of their friend, Scootaloo, Twilight knelt down next to Cotton, wrapping a wing over the filly’s back, while Spike nuzzled her from the other side.

“I shouldn’t miss them,” Cotton sniffled. “I have a new family now.”

“You will always miss them, Cotton.” Twilight nuzzled the filly, brushing away the tears from the pegasus’ cheek. “That’s why we remember them.”

“I never knew my parents, Cotton,” Spike sighed. “And I wish I could have known them. Known what they were like, what kind of pon— errr, dragons they were. But I have a family, in Twilight, the other Princesses; I have a big brother in Shining Armor. And now, I have you too. There is room enough in every family for more love, Cotton. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Spike laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Any time you want to talk about them, you can talk with us.”

Ж

In the late evening, Spike, Cotton, Allegrezza, Bellflower and Fallawater made their way out to the fields where the old Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhouse stood. Spike smiled as he walked the old familiar path, remembering the times he would play with the three original crusaders. Not that he would have called it ‘playing’; he was at the time oh-so-much more mature than them, but he had always enjoyed himself, despite any protestation he made to his big sister.

“So you excited for your first Cutie Mark Crusader sleepout?” Allegrezza asked Cotton as they walked.

“Mmm-hmm,” Cotton answered.

“Oh, y’all’ll have a great time! Ah remember our sleepouts! Y’all’ll come away with so many funny stories, ya’ll remember ‘em fer the rest of yer life!” Bellflower chuckled, winking at Fallawater, who blushed profusely. Allegrezza’s grin grew wide as she saw the look on Fallawater’s face.

“C-campouts aren’t that great,” Fallawater stuttered. “N-not really.”

“I’m sure we’ll share some of those stories tonight, right Falla?” Allegrezza giggled, seeing the look of horror on her friend’s face. “We’ll let the blankies decide if the stories are great or not.”

Spike marvelled as the clubhouse came into view. Applebloom had worked on improving it over the years; it looked more like a tree-mansion these days than just a house. Maybe a tree fortress, depending on what Applebloom and Scootaloo had installed in those menacing-looking turrets.

Topaz stood atop a parapat, looking down at the approaching group. “Halt, who goes there?” he squeaked, in an adorably ‘authoritative’ voice.

“Retired Crusaders Bellflower, Fallawater and Allegrezza, and Crusader-initiate Cotton Candy,” Bellflower called out. “Reporting for duty, sir!”

The three teens snapped off crisp salutes, trying their hardest not to laugh. Cotton nervously followed their lead, and the three teens burst into giggles. Allegrezza pulled the filly into a hug.

“Who’s the dragon?” the voice of the squeaky guard called out.

“Good Sir Topaz, of the noble Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Spike called out, kneeling before the treefort. “I have travelled far and wide, and have heard of your noble cause. I seek to offer my services in protection of your lands. My four companions can vouch for my trustworthiness.”

The three teens nodded their heads, giggling.

“Okay Spike!” Topaz called out. “Cinny, drop the ladd— I mean lower the drawbridge.”

The group chuckled as the ladder to the clubhouse lowered, and the four girls ascended the steps to the clubhouse main.

“I’ll just stay out here and keep an eye on the lands,” Spike called out, chuckling before settling comfortably on the ground.

Ж

Spike lay on his back, looking up at Luna’s beautiful night sky. He never cared for it in his youth; night time was for sleeping, after all. Though in truth, day time was also for napping, so his disinterest in the night  was not the same as the ancient ponies’.

But after years of meteor showers, nights spent watching the stars with Twilight and her friends, then later Luna and Celestia joining them, he’d grown fond of the bejeweled expanse above him.

Spike had ordered lights-out three hours earlier, and as expected, the crusaders had only stopped their giggling, laughing and talking an hour ago.

The only thing that could be heard for miles around was the sound of the dragon’s deep breathing as he relaxed, along with the sounds of the few wild creatures that had not fled from his resting area.

Spike smiled, enjoying the peace. Knowing the workings of a foal’s mind, he was keenly aware that such peace would not last, so he kept his vigil. Assuredly enough, the sounds of whispering could be heard minutes later.

“Is he asleep?” Spike recognised the voice of Largo. If anypony was going to cause trouble, of course it would be his grand-nephew.

“I-I think so,” one of Applebloom’s granddaughters, Cinnamon Spice, whispered.

Spike hoped that it was more than just those two looking to sneak out, or he’d have to have some serious talks with their parents. A deathly chill ran down his spine, as he thought of what might happen if one of the boys showed an interest in his Cotton. He loudly ground his teeth.

“I think he’s snoring,” came the voice of Topaz.

Okay, so they were up to mischief, not mischief. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Holly, Gala,” Largo whispered. “Lower the ladder… quietly!”

Oh Largo, I wasn’t hatched yesterday!

As the ladder dropped with a loud crash the foals let out a hiss. Spike suppressed his smile, mumbled a bit, and rolled over so he was facing them, his eyes barely open. If they thought he was asleep, he could play it up a bit.

“‘Somwonthr?” he muttered, before returning to his deep breathing. His jaw ached, holding back the smile forming on his snout. With his keen draconic sight, he could see them all as if it were Celestia’s brightest day.

Standing terrified at the top of the steps were Katya, Nocturne, Cotton, Gala, Holly, Cinnamon Spice and Topaz. The ringleader, Largo, was already quietly making his way down the ladder, eyes focused on the dragon.

Silently, one by one, the foals descended and huddled in a group at the bottom of the ladder.

“So, are we ready?” Largo whispered.

“Ready for what?” Spike boomed out in the night. The few birds nesting in the trees scattered as the foals let out a cacophony of terrified shrieks. Spike rolled onto his front, propping his chin up with his claws, staring down at the group of foals. “Going somewhere, my little ponies?”

“Uhh, uhh,” Largo stammered. “Just, to, umm, the… the toilet!”

“All of you? At once?” Spike raised his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Umm… umm.” Largo continued digging himself deeper into his hole.

“So you weren’t, I don’t know, thinking of sneaking out and doing some midnight crusading?” Spike grinned, watching the foals shuffle nervously, caught red-hooved. “Going out and getting into trouble?”

“Crusaders are supposed to get into trouble!” Topaz called from the back of the group. “That’s what Unca Discord told us!”

Spike chuckled— that did sound like something Discord would say. Three Cutie Mark Crusaders were a disaster zone. Eight Cutie Mark Crusaders causing trouble at night unsupervised under the direct instruction of the Spirit of Chaos? Half of Ponyville would be on fire, the other half covered in pink-and-green plaid tree sap.

“Everypony back to bed. There will be plenty of time to crusade tomorrow morning before everypony has to leave.” He stood, herding them back towards the ladder and up into the tree house.

The foals must have been more exhausted than they’d let on, because within half an hour, the grumpy whispers had been replaced with the soft snores and breathing of foals sleeping.

Ж

Spike awoke in the morning to the warm feeling of Celestia’s sun on his belly, and the sound of giggling from the treehouse. Opening his eyes, he spied several of the foals looking out over the porch of the fort, wearing ridiculously colored cold-weather wear.

“He’s awake, Unca Discord!” Holly called, as the draconequus in question popped his head out from the doorway.

“Oh, well look at that, he is.” Discord inspected his eagle talon intently. “I heard you spoiled these poor foals’ fun last night. Tut tut.” A grin crossed his mismatched features. “Though I heard you promised fun in the morning.”

A click of his talon, and a blanket of freezing white dropped on the lounging dragon. Spike shot up immediately, shivering as he shook off the snow. The children laughed as they jumped down into the snow, starting to play immediately.

“I-I-I’ll g-g-get y-y-you f-f-for this, D-d-discord!” Spike stammered out. “J-j-just y-you w-w-wait!”

“Oh come on, that sounds like one of my old lines,” Discord chuckled. “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling Elements!”

“Discord!”

“Hide me!” Discord immediately transformed into a snowpony, complete with a carrot for a horn and a cucumber for an antler. Not the most effective of disguises.

“Ah told ya to get the foals fer breakfast.” Applebloom was hobbling through the trees, trying to keep her balance on the snow-covered ground. “And Ah thought Ah told ya what’d happen if ya froze mah acres again. Yah gave me yer word!”

“Oh, that?” the snowpony responded, forgetting snowponies don’t generally talk. “Yes, ummm, well… I guess I lied.”

Spike turned to the foals, grinning wide at the foals who had stopped playing to watch the mounting disaster.

“Oh no! Discord has turned to his old, evil ways! We better stop him before he takes over all of Crusadia!”

The snowpony snapped it’s twig fingers, and the draconequus reappeared, watching as thirteen foals quickly prepared snowballs.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Spike shouted. “Fire!”

Discord looked on in horror. “Oh f—”

Fwumph.

Chapter Eight - A Dragon's guide to dealing with bullies

The air choked her as she breathed in its heat.

I don’t have to be afraid of you anymore.

The small room was hot, burning, confining. She had to get out.

I don’t have to be afraid of you anymore.

Those laughing eyes, taunting her.

You’re just a bully!

The crackle of the flame behind her, the smell of smoke. Tears stung her eyes as she bashed the door.

“Let me out!” Cotton screamed. She continued to buck her back legs against the door. “Let me out let me out let me out!”

Her breathing was increasing rapidly, her head spinning. The clawing heat in the room tore at her; she could not tear her eyes away from the roaring fire.

I don’t have to be afraid of you anymore.

The dam broke, and Cotton fell to the ground sobbing.

“I— I don’t have to b-be afraid of you anymore,” she repeated to herself, over and over.

Ж

“I’ve gotta go to the little fillies' room. I’ll see you in class.” Cotton waved to Tesla as she turned towards the fillies' toilet.

Lunchtime had been fun today. She’d excitedly told all of her friends about her trip to Ponyville, how she’d met two of the Elements of Harmony, and how she’d been inducted into the Cutie Mark Crusaders. The five foals played on the swing set, taking turns pushing each other, as they regaled each other with what they had done on their holiday.

What was better was that Boulder was ignoring them. Brick was away with the feather flu, and Boulder tended to leave others alone when his dim-witted backup was not around.

Moments later, Cotton stepped out from the toilet into the hall, making her way back to the classroom. Thoughts of the trip to Ponyville filled her head; she closed her eyes and remembered playing in the snow on a warm summer’s day. The epic war between the forces of Crusadia and Discordia, and the funny song their bard, Allegrezza, had sung upon their victory. She closed her eyes and spread her wings, remembering the feel of the air rushing against her face as she flew on her dad’s back.

“Oof!” a masculine voice let out, as she collided with somepony. “Watch where you’re going, stupid.”

Cotton opened her eyes, embarrassed at having crashed into somepony. “S-sorry.”

“Toasty?” Boulder got to his hooves, brushed himself off, then turned to her with a sneer. “I thought you were crispy, not blind.”

“I-I said I was sorry,” Cotton replied, trying to step around him.

“You think you can just push me around and get away with it?” Boulder stepped forward, pressing against Cotton.

“I-I don’t have to be afraid of you anymore.”

“What?”

“Dad said I don’t have to be afraid of you.” Cotton stood her ground. “You’re just a bully! If you push me around, I-I’ll tell Mrs. Withers on you.”

“Oh, will you?” Cotton tried not to shrink back at the malice in his voice.

“You’re just a bully. I don’t have to be afraid of you anym—” A painful pressure closed Cotton’s muzzle, stopping her from speaking. The pressure made it hard to breath; she had to fight for each breath through her nostrils. Boulder turned from her, a smirk across his face, his horn glowing with a pale-green aura. The pressure began to pull on her muzzle, forcing her to follow him in pain.

She fought back, but each time she pulled against him, the pressure increased, bringing tears to her eyes. Resigned, she followed him until they reached the door to the basement.

Nonononononononowe’renotalloweddownthere.

Panic set in as she watched him open the door and descend the stairs, her eyes darting left and right as she prayed for a teacher to find her. She fought with everything she had, but her hooves could not gain purchase on the slick tile floor of the hallway. She fell painfully down the stairs as Boulder dragged her along.

“You’ll love it down here, Toasty.” Boulder dragged the filly across to a closed door. Panic welled in Cotton’s chest as she read the sign adorning the door.

Furnace Room. Authorized Entry Only.

Cotton bucked with all her might, trying to escape Boulder’s magical grasp in vain. He opened the door, and tossed Cotton inside.

“Let’s see how brave you really are,” Boulder laughed as he closed the door.

Ж

“Let me out!” Cotton screamed again, bashing her hooves against the door. She had heard Boulder leave, his hooves clacking on the stairs as he ascended.

She had tried to open the door, but Boulder had locked it from the other side before he left.

Her hooves ached, swollen and sore from bucking at the door, while her heart continued its allegretto in her chest.

Her eyes continued to flick towards the furnace, the heat and sparks pouring out the grate, overwhelming her with the urge to run.

Panic held her tighter than any magic aura could. She struggled to pull herself into the corner of the room furthest away from the fire. Cotton laid on her side on the floor, the coal dust blackening her side; she curled into a foetal position, hugging her legs close to her chest.

Ж

Mrs. Withers looked up from her desk to the clock on the wall. Lunch time had ended twenty minutes ago, yet there was no sign of Cotton Candy.

“Has anypony seen Cotton Candy since lunch?” she asked the class.

The foals, who had their heads down and were working in relative silence, looked up towards their teacher, muttering ‘no’s’ and ‘not since lunch, miss’; though one filly’s hoof shot up.

“I saw her just before the bell rang, Miss,” Tesla answered, bouncing in her seat. “She was going to the toilet, Miss.”

Mrs. Withers looked to the clock again. Twenty minutes was a long time for the filly to be gone. “Everypony, please be good while I go and check on Cotton Candy. If anypony finishes before I get back, please try the extra questions on page forty-five of the textbook.”

The teacher cantered down the hall, towards the toilets, not wanting to leave her class unattended for too long. She knew full well that not a single student would be working on their schoolwork right now. Stopping at the door, she knocked before entering.

The stalls were empty; there was no sign of Cotton anywhere.

Exiting the bathroom, Mrs. Withers looked up and down the hall.

“Mr. Sweep, excuse me!” she called out to the old custodian pony cleaning a spill at the end of the corridor. She trotted up to the older stallion, knowing he’d gone slightly deaf in his old age. “Clean, excuse me?”

Clean Sweep jumped at the sudden sound, turning to its source. “Oh, Mrs. Withers, you startled me there,” he answered. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Sorry to bother you, but you haven’t seen any of the students out of class, have you?” she asked. “I’m looking for a filly who should have been back by now. She’s got a pink mane, and a light orange-cream coat. You’d, umm, know if you saw her.”

“Oh!” Clean Sweep scratched his chin as he thought. “You mean the kid with all the scars?” Clean Sweep didn’t notice, or at least didn’t respond to, the wince Mrs. Withers gave when he mentioned the foal’s scars. “Nope, ain’t seen hide nor hair of anypony since the bell rang.”

“Okay, thank you. If you happen to see her, please come and find me. Room 3A, you remember?”

“I sure do, ma’am. If I see her, I’ll bring her to you.”

Mrs. Withers trotted to the Principals office to check, before she could return to her class.

Ж

Cotton huddled in the corner. It was getting harder for her to breathe; her chest ached with every breath she took.

No air.

She couldn’t get any air. Every attempt to breathe caused that same deep pain in her chest.

Cotton was panicking. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to die. The fire was going to kill her.

Daddy, help me. Please, help me, Daddy.

Black spots and little sparks of light filled her vision. Scrambling to her hooves, she moved to the door as fast as her little legs could.

Can’t breathe please somepony help me can’t breathe somepony please daddy please save me daddy please.

Cotton tripped, sprawling on the floor as she lost consciousness.

Ж

Principal Inquiry knocked on the door to classroom 3A, Mrs. Withers spotting her through the door.

“Excuse me for a moment, my little ponies.” She excused herself, exiting the classroom and closing the door behind her.

“Mrs. Withers, we’ve found Cotton.” Principal Inquiry had a stern look on her face; she had not been impressed when Mrs. Withers had come to her office saying she’d lost one of the students.

“Oh, thank you.” Mrs. Withers breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been so worried.”

“Mr. Footlights has already sent up a flare, the paramedics should be on their way.”

“What?”

“Could you explain to me why one of your students was found passed out in the furnace room in my school, Mrs. Withers?” Principal Inquiry clucked her tongue in frustration. “A student, might I remind you, now connected with the Royal family?”

“What happened?” Mrs. Withers lost all composure. “Is she okay?”

“She is currently in the infirmary room, waiting for the paramedics to arrive.” The principal gave the teacher a stern glare. “I have already sent Coach Swiftwing to inform her father. We’re lucky Clean Sweep was scheduled to check the furnace when he did.”

Ж

Spike paced the grounds of the hospital, waiting for Twilight to come back out. He cursed his size, it should have been him in there with his daughter.

One of the teachers from Cotton’s school had burst into the Canterlot Archives, and had been quickly directed to Spike. Within minutes the dragon was in flight, hurtling towards the hospital nearest Cotton’s school, having sent a quick note to Twilight to do the same.

“She’s okay, Spike,” Twilight said, interrupting the dragon’s pacing as she crossed the grounds to speak with the dragon. “But they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. The orderlies are trying to organise a room near a window so you can see her, once she’s out of observation.”

“How long will that be; when will I be able to see her?”

“She should be out of obs in a few hours, then she’ll be taken to one of the private rooms.”

Spike was shaking. “What happened? How did it happen?”

“The doctors say she passed out from hyperventilation. She seems fine, but they want to keep her overnight in case she has a concussion.”

“How did she get locked in the furnace room?”

“Oh, that.” Twilight rubbed her forearm with a golden-shod hoof. “When she woke up, she told me one of the other students, Boulder R—”

Twilight was knocked back twenty feet, collapsing against the side of the hospital as an enraged dragon took to the air.

Ж

Mrs. Withers was in her office, getting chewed out by Principal Inquiry, over the day’s events. Neither had looked out her window; had they done so at the time, they might have seen the incoming scaled, fire-breathing, razor-toothed epitome of fury hurtling through the skies, aimed directly at the window they both stood by.

Both principal and teacher screamed in horror. The ground shook beneath them as the dragon landed and thrust his head through the open window.

“WHERE IS HE?”

Mrs. Withers dove under her desk, leaving her boss to face down the angry parent.

“W-who? Where is who?” Principal Inquiry asked, quivering as she stared up at the dragon.

“Boulder,” the dragon sneered, the heat of his breath burning the principals eyes. “Where does he live?”

In every guide and law governing education, it was always stressed that a faculty member was to never divulge the personal information of a student. The writers of said laws obviously had not thought to include any caveats. Say, for example: when the inquirer was a knighted member of the nobility. Or say, when said nobility was the adoptive family member of not one, but two princesses, who both happened to be two of the three supreme rulers of the country said laws were written in.

The laws most definitely did not contain any caveats, provisos, or methods of dealing with angry parents who were also a huge, gigantic, terrible, enormous, teeth-gnashing, sharp scale-having, horn-wearing, fire-breathing, could-eat-a-pony-in-one-bite, totally-pissed-off parent.

“Mrs. Withers!” Principal Inquiry squeaked. “Get the files.”

Regulations be damned, I don’t want to be dragon-chow.

With a shaky hoof, Mrs. Withers flicked through the filing cabinet in her room. When she found Boulder’s file, she dutifully hoofed it to Principal Inquiry.

“H-he lives at number twenty-nine Acacia Road, Downtown Canterlot.”

The dragon removed his head from the window and took back to the skies, leaving two terrified mares in his wake.

Mrs. Withers opened the cupboard under her desk, producing two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey.

“Y-y-you keep alcohol here?” Principal Inquiry shrieked.

“Do you want one or not?” Mrs. Withers asked, shock still etched across her face.

Principal Inquiry looked around the room, to its disheveled state after the impromptu parent-teacher meeting, and knew there was only one possible answer to Mrs. Withers’ question.

“Make mine a double.”

Ж

Stone Quarry was sitting in his favorite chair reading the Canterlot Times, as his wife, Ebony Ingot, prepared the table for the night’s meal. Their son was upstairs in his room, having gotten in trouble at school, yet again.

Stone Quarry sighed to himself. Colts will be colts, I guess; but when is he going to grow into a real stallion?

“Honey, what is that rattling?” he called out, putting down his paper and trotting into the dining room.

A scream filled his ears as two razor-sharp talons punctured the front door to Stone Quarry’s home. As the doors were torn off of their hinges and thrown to the ground, Stone Quarry realised if the fillyish screaming was to stop, he should probably close his mouth.

“WHERE IS HE?”

The head of a dragon pushed its way through the brand-new archway, through the hallway, and into the adjoining dining room. The dragon repeated himself.

“WHERE IS HE?”

A flash of light burst in front of the couple, and before them stood Princess Twilight Sparkle, interposing herself between the cowering couple and the raging dragon.

“Spike, stop this this instant!” Twilight bellowed at him in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Calm down, I will not let you hurt these ponies!”

“Them?” the dragon roared. “You’re protecting them? These vipers and their Tartarus-damned son put my daughter— your niece— in the hospital, and you’re protecting them?” The dragon attempted to push himself further into the home.

Twilight could hear the shattering of glass as his claws scraped at the outside of the house. If she didn’t stop him soon, he’d bring the whole house down on their heads.

Spike stopped in shock, the sting across his cheek burning where his sister had used a substantial amount of alicorn power to slap him across the face with a burst of magic.

“You are not an animal, Spike, so stop acting like one.” Twilight’s eyes glowed with raw power as she stared down the dragon. “If you can not deal with this calmly, like a rational adult, then leave now! Your daughter needs you now, so go back to the hospital and wait for her. I will speak to Boulder’s parents about his attitude.”

Spike nodded slowly, his face still stinging. He turned back to the cowering couple. “Her Majesty was here to stop me from doing anything rash today, but understand this. Should your son come anywhere near my daughter again… not even the four divines will be able to stop me,” he sneered, ignoring Twilight’s scowl. “Do we have an understanding?”

After both parents nodded their terrified agreement, Spike extracted his head from the doorway, and took flight.

Twilight let out a deep sigh. “I apologise for my brother’s actions today. The Royal Treasury will reimburse you for any damages to the house, and someplace to stay tonight. Now, I would like to discuss your son’s poor behaviour…”

Ж

Boulder was running. The dark woods loomed around him, horrid whispers and voices echoing in the dark. Branches grasped at him, scraping painfully down his sides.

A red-scaled claw shot from the darkened skies above, grasping at him. Boulder darted from side to side, avoiding the razor-sharp phalanges as they tried to clinch him. He screamed as the sharp appendages finally caught him, pinching sharply in his side, almost breaking the skin.

“Yo, Garble, you gunna cook that or what? I’m starved.”

“Shut up!” the red dragon snarled at his compatriate. “Stupid Marshmallow kept rolling away.”

The red dragon lifted the screaming foal in front of his snout, and asked his friend, “How toasty do you want this one?”

Boulder looked on in horror as the gaping maw opened, and the sight of fire slowly roiling its way out of the dragon’s gullet engulfed his vision.

Ж

Twilight stumbled into the dining room just before midnight. Luna was sitting in a chair with a confectionary bag in hoof.

“You know you shouldn’t be eating those before bedtime,” Twilight chided the older alicorn as she gave Luna a nuzzle. “Sorry for dumping my court on you tonight.”

“‘Tis okay, Twilight. We did not have much work tonight, so it is fine.” Luna smiled at her friend, seeing her exhaustion. “How fare our Spike and little Cotton?”

“Cotton is fine, and Spike is sleeping outside the hospital tonight.” Twilight shook her head. “Not that I blame him.”

“No, We heard what had transpired with the school-yard bully; Spike sent Tia a very verbose letter while he was waiting for you to return.” Luna let out a slight chuckle.

“His parents were terrified; it took me an hour to calm them down.”

Luna put a gentle hoof on Twilight’s back, gently massaging the tension point between the wings; Twilight groaning in appreciation. Luna levitated the confectionary bag in front of Twilight.

“Marshmallow?”

Chapter Nine - Riding the Purple Dragon

Spike smirked as he watched his daughter walking listlessly through the castle gardens. The juxtaposition of her scowl and the cute summer hat she wore was, in his mind, adorable. She had been this sullen for the past week, ever since her classmate, Aegis Shield, got his cutie mark.

“I’m going to be a blank-flank forever!” the filly whined, despite Spike’s reassurance that she wouldn’t. Brick, the one remaining bully in her class after Boulder was pulled out, had told her she would always be a burnt-flank. Mrs. Withers had given the pegasus colt, in Cotton’s own words, ‘a million detentions’ for his remark.

Cotton was glad that the bully had gotten his comeuppance; but Spike was acutely aware it was so that the school did not receive another visit from an angry dragon, or risk the ire of one of Equestria’s princesses, and the subsequent loss of funding that would likely accompany said ire.

Cotton kicked a pebble along the flagstone as they walked towards their favorite picnic spot. They had made the picnic basket together, cooking being a passion they both shared. Since she had come from the orphanage, Spike had found that Cotton loved to cook, and while the things she made were simple (oatmeal cookies, daisy sandwiches, and so on), she always wore a smile as she did so.

Spike twitched, desperately trying to hide his grin. Hopefully what he and the others had planned would cheer the filly up. Rounding the corner to their favorite spot, Cotton stopped dead in her tracks.

“Huzzah! Thou hast made it!”

Cotton turned back to her Dad, an eyebrow raised as if to ask why her nocturnal Auntie, along with her supposed-to-be-busy-with-court-and-other-princess-duties Aunties, were waiting in the castle garden. Her nocturnal Auntie in particular was wearing a manic grin, and levitating a carry bag and Spike’s saddle.

“Sir Spike, how We have longed to get thee into this harness.”

“Phrasing!” Twilight’s face paled, and her ears flattened themselves in effort to block out the sound and accompanying thought.

“What?” Luna asked, turning to the younger princess with a look of confusion on her face. “We are just saying We have been looking forward to strapping this harness on your little brother and riding him.”

“Phrasing!” Twilight shouted, covering her ears with her wingtips, while Celestia sniggered.

“What’s going on?” Cotton asked, thoroughly confused, as Luna helped Spike into his travelling harness. The look of excitement on Luna’s face was somewhat unnerving to the diminutive filly, and the look of horror on Twilight’s face did not inspire confidence either.

“We’ve all organised something very special for you today; your father and auntie are taking you somewhere fun,” Celestia explained, leaning down to give the confused filly a nuzzle.

“No, Luna, my wing goes through there, not my head!” Spike shouted, as Celestia tittered some more. After a sudden yelp and some furious blushing, Spike screamed “Twilight! Tell your friend that that does not need harnessing.”

“Excuse me for a moment, I have a diplomatic issue to diffuse before it gets out of hoof; before your father flambés a princess or my sister declares night eternal again.” Celestia left Cotton’s side for a moment, and helped the arguing pair correctly attach the dragon’s harness. Cotton sat next to Twilight, who was still protecting her ears from anything else the embarrassing pair might say.

After a few minutes of struggling, the harness was attached, and Twilight was helping Cotton into her seat, whilst Luna bounced on her haunches, having strapped herself the second she was allowed. Celestia levitated the picnic basket to her sister, Luna levitating her crown and torc down to the Solar Princess.

“W-Where are we going?”

Spike craned his neck around to face his daughter. “Horseshoe Park, Equestria’s best theme park!”

Twilight and Celestia watched on as Spike beat his powerful wings, guards joining his flight as they took to the sky. The remaining alicorn princesses burst out laughing as the morning air was pierced by a very non-regal squeal.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Ж

Spike landed in a grassy area beside a large pool, complete with its own beach area for foals. Two pegasi guards stood sentinel next to the dragon as Princess Luna and Cotton disembarked. The third guard returned from the gate with six tickets as Spike managed to get out of his harness, passing it to one of the guards.

Luna levitated Cotton onto her back, ready to make a run for the nearest attraction, when Spike grabbed her tail. The look of scandal across the faces of the park patrons gathered around was priceless, seeing one of their princesses stallion-handled by a dragon; the royal guards made no move to intercept, instead focusing their concentration on not laughing.

“Luna!” Spike growled. “Not so fast. We need to stay together, and Cotton needs to put on sunscreen first.” He reached into the bag Luna had unceremoniously dumped on the ground and pulled out a large bottle of sunscreen. Cotton slid off Luna’s back, grumbling as she trotted towards her father. He squeezed a few drops on her hoof. “Make sure you cover your legs and belly; I’ll get your back and wings.”

Spike carefully propped himself up on his rear legs, leaning forward and balancing with his wings flared out. He gently rubbed the cream through her coat, making sure to be gentle where her scars were visible through her coat, rubbing extra sunscreen into the exposed tissue.

“Now, no swimming for at least fifteen minutes; you have to let the sunscreen soak in.”

“Yes dad,” Cotton answered, rolling her eyes. “Can we go now?”

“Almost ready.” Spike squirted a large dollop of sunscreen on his claws, then gently rubbed the cream over Cotton’s face, delicately holding her jaw in his claw as she tried to wiggle free. “You don’t want your face to get burnt, else we won’t be able to tell your muzzle from your mane.”

Spike chuckled as Cotton Candy shook her head, sticking her tongue out and spitting. He turned to Luna, offering her the bottle. “You want this next? You don’t spend a lot of time in your sister’s sun, after all.”

“We are an Alicorn, Sir Spike. We do not need such mundane protections,” Luna huffed, levitating Cotton onto her back. “Now, may we enjoy this day?”

Spike shook his head as a smirk crossed his face. It was clear that Luna could barely contain her excitement. “Sure, let’s go see what’s here.”

Ж

Spike beamed as he watched his daughter squeal on the rollercoaster. The royal guard sitting next to her, sans uniform, was less excited.

“How dare they!” Luna groused, not for the first time. “We are the pinnacle of alicorn beauty, not some fat sow.”

“You’re not fat,” Spike responded, diplomatically. “The parks just don’t get many alicorn visitors, and as such aren’t prepared to accommodate somepony of your stature.”

He paused for a few seconds, then added somewhat less diplomatically, “Though you could stand to lay off the cheese cakes, I guess.”

A solid punch in his shoulder told him that Luna did not appreciate his joke.

“And We had to wait in line for sooooooooooooo loooooooooooooooong.”

“Well, that’s not their fault,” Spike answered, only half paying attention to the whining Princess. “Just about everypony did offer to let you and Cotton ahead of them.”

“Our sister has… dissuaded Us… from using the ‘Royal Cutsies’ in the past.” Luna sighed. “We never did get any donuts from Pony Joe’s closing down sale.”

“At least you can go on some of the rides with her,” Spike sighed in weary resignation. “All I can do is watch.”

Luna placed a hoof gently on his shoulder, nodding her understanding. “You are here with her, and that means the world to her. Do not forget that, Spike.”

They both turned back, adorning their faces with smiles as the rollercoaster came to a stop.

“Did you see it Auntie Luna?” Cotton bounded past the exit, a curiously nauseous-looking pegasus guard following her. “It went soooooooooo high, and then it was like whooooooooooooosh!” Cotton flared her wings, lifting herself off the ground then diving forward and landing on her hooves for effect. “It was so cool!”

“Why don’t we have some lunch,” Luna asked, levitating the filly onto Spike’s neck, “then go for a swim? Does that sound fun?”

Ж

After a packed lunch of daisy sandwiches, some ice cream surreptitiously purchased by Luna, and an appropriate amount of time waiting for food to settle before they could go swimming (something the Princess and the filly shared equal disdain for); Luna took Cotton to the change rooms.

Luna helped Cotton into her swimsuit first, tut-tutting over the garment Cotton had pulled from the carry bag they had brought. Luna hurried Cotton out of the change rooms so she could don her own swimsuit. Cotton bounced out of the change room, trotting towards the dragon.

“Dad! Dad! Look at what Auntie Tia packed for—”

Spike looked his daughter over; the small swimsuit, if it could be called that, was barely held together by string ties around her flanks. There was only one thing he could say.

“No.”

“No what?” Cotton asked in confusion.

Spike pulled at his snout with a claw, groaning into his palm in frustration. He would have to have a very serious conversation with Celestia over the age-appropriateness of the clothing she bought Cotton.

“I know full well Auntie Twilight packed a sensible one-piece swimsuit for you.”

“Awwww, but daaaaaaaaad.” The filly stomped her hooves. “That one is so dorky.”

What ever Cotton’s argument was past that point, Spike did not hear. Luna had finally exited the change room, and had drawn the attention of everypony in the vicinity. She cantered toward them with a smile plastered across her face, completely unaware of the stares everypony gave her.

“Luna…” Spike stumbled in his thoughts, trying to find the words that would not have him banished to the moon for the next thousand years. “Luna… what in Tartarus is that?”

Luna stopped, and looked down at her swimsuit. “Why, these are Our swimming clothes.”

Cotton burst out laughing, but stopped quickly when Luna turned to glare at her. The filly scooted closer to her Dad, hiding away from her angry aunt.

“And what, pray tell, is wrong with Our swimming clothes?” She looked at her smart swimmers; they covered her back and legs nicely, the bonnet would keep her mane from getting wet, and the skirt ballooned just perfectly as to cover her haunches.

Spike began to smirk. “They are a little… dated.” He waved a claw around, gesturing to the other patrons of the park, who had ceased their staring and resumed what they were doing, embarrassed to have been caught gawking at one of their princesses.

“Tia told Us these were still in fashion…” A scowl crossed her features. “Tia! Oh We will get thee for this, Sister. Hot sauce in thy next cake, yes.”

Spike chuckled. “Luna, I believe Twilight packed you one of her swimsuits, in case you didn’t have one. Why don’t you go put that on? And take my daughter…” he ignored the ‘awwww’ from underneath his wing. “… and help her change into the other swimsuit.”

Luna took Cotton back into the changeroom, and the filly emerged a few minutes later, wearing a far more sensible navy-blue one-piece. She sat next to her father, waiting for Luna to join them.

“We are not wearing this!” Luna’s voice boomed from inside the change room.

“I know it is not what you are used to, Luna, but trust me, it is okay.”

“It is most certainly not okay,” Luna hissed, poking her head from out of the change room. She levitated the alicorn-sized navy-blue one-piece to Spike, who gripped it in his claw.

“What exactly is wrong with it?” Spike inspected the suit, it looked fine.

“Look at the base,” Luna whispered, looking away from the dragon in embarrassment. “Above the tail,” she coughed.

Spike turned it over, and noticed what Luna was protesting. A very small, obviously recently-made change to the swimsuit was the addition of the words ‘Property of Princess Twilight Sparkle’ embroidered in silver thread, just above the dock. The dragon had to bite his cheek.

“Hot sauce for both their cakes. For two weeks!” Luna grumbled.

“Pass me your other swimsuit,” Spike sighed with a smile. “If over fifty years with Rarity taught me anything, it’s how to get out of a fashion emergency.”

Spike used his sharp claws to delicately snip away the frills and long sleeves of Luna’s ancient swimsuit, and modernize it a little. Or at least garner the embarrassed princess less stares.

Luna gratefully took the swimsuit back, and exited moments later in something at least passable as from this century.

One of the guards was ordered to stay with their possessions, while Luna, Spike and Cotton walked towards the pool. Spike walked out into the deep end; with his height, the water barely passed his shoulders. He laid down in the cool water, and waded towards the faux-shore, where Luna and Cotton were playing.

After watching Cotton climb on Spike several times and diving off a raised wing or his tail, other foals ventured toward the dragon, quickly joining in on the fun of jumping off a dragon twelve times their size. Spike smiled as Cotton was invited to come play with some of the other fillies in the pool; it warmed his heart to see her out of her shell.

Luna waded next to Spike, watching the fillies at play.

“‘Tis good to see her alight with happiness again,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m glad she’s having fun today,” Spike replied, near oblivious to the colts still competing for the biggest splash as they dove off his tail. “It’s been really hard seeing her so depressed the last week.”

Ж

Spike watched Luna and Cotton as they continued through to the evening. He was disappointed that Celestia and Twilight could not be there with them as well; it was rare that they got to have family outings, let alone anything like this. It had been sixteen years since Luna had taken a break like she had today, and Celestia even longer.

There were times he wished they were a normal family, without the duties of royalty to burden them… but then they would not be family if it were not for those royal ties that bound them. He might never have known Twilight, and without Twilight, he probably never would have met Luna. He never would have met the girls from Ponyville. He would never have met his wife. Though if he was honest about it, were it not for Twilight, he might not have even been born.

If it were not for her royalty, he might have had to have said goodbye to his big sister, as he had had to say goodbye to so many friends in the past. And he knew there would be more to come, but he could take comfort in knowing he had his family.

“Dad! Dad!” Cotton broke him from his reverie. “Can Auntie Luna take me to the haunted castle? She said I had to ask you.”

Spike looked up at Luna, surprised at her restraint. Normally she would have taken Cotton without even asking her father. The princesses certainly did a lot for Cotton without consulting him first.

Mental note: talk to Celestia about Cotton’s swimwear.

Spike looked to his daughter, the expectant look on her face, and sighed. “Okay, so long as Auntie Luna understands she is on dream-patrol tonight.” He gave the nocturnal princess a look. “I don’t want my filly waking up with nightmares tonight, got it?”

Ж

“We are very disappointed with this ‘haunted castle’; there are no trap doors. Nothing like Our old castle in the Everfree.”

Luna tromped through the corridors of the castle, scoffing at the supposedly ‘scary’ creatures popping up around each corner. Every room had a different theme; a dark forest, a spooky swamp, an abandoned opera house. She could not understand how anypony could find these dressed-up poniquins and wooden cut-outs frightful.

“We have bested the beasts of Tartarus, fought the Spirit of Chaos…” Luna whispered, as she poked one of the poniquins, supposedly a ghost pony. “We just do not understand.”

Cotton had no such problem understanding, squealing at every spook then giggling furiously after.

As they rounded the corner, they entered a room that finally met with Luna’s approval.

“Our old throneroom?” Luna walked the worn carpet towards the dual throne. “They have done a splendid job, though I do not recall Tia’s throne being higher than Ours.”

Cotton squealed as the lights went out, dropping the throne room into pitch darkness. Luna felt the filly grab onto her leg, so she levitated Cotton onto her back.

“Fear not, little one. There is nothing to be afraid of in he—”

A booming voice rebounded throughout the room as an icy wind blew down her spine. Lightning crashed outside the windows, revealing a silhouette standing at the dais.

“There can only be one Princess in Equestria. And that Princess will be…”

A pitch-black poniquin swooped from the dais towards the pair, fangs bared, her ethereal mane flowing behind her.

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Ж

“Do you know how many ponies could have been hurt?” Spike chastised the embarrassed princess. “You’re lucky the park owner thought it was his fault.”

He shook his head, looking back at the remains of the eastern side of the haunted castle, still smoking as molten stone slowly cooled.

“It was so cool!” Cotton gushed, unaware of the gravity of what had happened. “Nightmare Moon swooped down and was going to get us, and even though she was scared and screaming, Auntie Luna still blasted Nightmare Moon!”

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle; the rumblings of his chest vibrating through to the seats Luna and Cotton were strapped into. “Cotton, when we get home, make sure you share that story with your other aunties.”

“Cotton, We will give thee a boon of as many candies as thou wish…eth,” Luna whispered, covering her mouth with a hoof, “if thee wouldst not share thy tale with Our sister and Twilight.”

“No bribing my daughter!” Spike called back. “Besides, if Celestia is going to end up paying for it, I am sure she will want to know why. She would likely be pleased having an eye-witness report!”

“We wonder if hot sauce affects dragons?” Luna muttered under her breath, with Cotton giggling beside her.

Ж

It was late afternoon when Spike, Cotton and Luna returned to the castle. Luna excused herself; she had… things she had to attend to before dinner. Spike led Cotton towards their quarters, the filly bouncing with excitement.

“So what did you want to do until dinner time?” Spike asked his daughter. “Did you want to read a book, or play in the gardens?”

Cotton sat on her haunches, stopping to think. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. She’d had so much fun during the day with her dad and her aunt, that she couldn’t think of anything that could top the day. She was really happy that her dad and her aunties had planned something so nice for…

“D-Dad? Could we maybe cook something?”

Spike stopped, turning to look at his daughter.

“I-I just wanted to do something nice for everypony, to say thanks for today.”

“Sure, let’s go make something.” Spike lifted his daughter onto his neck, and carried her to their kitchen.

Ж

Spike lit the oven, the wooden fire burning with his unique green-hued flame.

“Dad, can you reach that book?” Cotton pointed a hoof towards the shelf of recipe books.

“This one?” he asked, a claw pointing to a book on desserts; it was her favorite recipe book, after all. After she nodded and turned back to get ingredients out, Spike grabbed the book and placed it on the table.

Cotton flipped through the book, turning each page awkwardly with her muzzle. She flipped through it several times, until she settled on a particular recipe. She carefully measured out two cups of sugar and put them in a mixing bowl, along with four and a half sticks of butter.

“Can you beat this, Dad?” Cotton asked, already moving on to the next step.

“Like Applebloom does Discord!” He waved off Cotton’s confused expression, grabbing the bowl in one claw and the beater in the other. It made him laugh that where once he was the primary cook for Twilight and himself, only relegating the jobs that he couldn’t do (or she couldn’t mess up), that he was now in the same position with his daughter. She took charge in the kitchen, always working with a smile on her face, often poking her tongue out in concentration.

Once the butter and sugar were beaten into a soft cream, he placed the mixing bowl back onto the table. Cotton held an egg between her hooves, deftly cracking it into the bowl.

“What next, boss?”

“Can you hold the sifter?” Cotton responded, so far into ‘the zone’ that she didn’t even register what her father had called her.

With Spike holding the sieve over the bowl, Cotton started measuring out the plain flour, then the rice flour. She started kneading the flour and the butter-cream together with her hooves. Spike winced, knowing he’d have to help her clean the muck out of her coat later; she already had substantial amounts of flour on her face.

“Dad, can you butter two baking trays?”

Spike did as told, chuckling to himself at how commanding Cotton was. As he rubbed the warm butter on the baking trays, he watched his daughter as she worked. She was humming a jaunty little tune, one he thought he recognised from a puppet show they saw during the day.

Spike placed the trays back on the table next to her, and let her continue. Cotton didn’t really need him there, but he enjoyed seeing his daughter expressing such passion in her work. His eyelids drooped, and after a while he fell into a light doze. He had flown all the way to Baltimare and back in one day, after all.

Cotton dusted the tabletop with flour and pulled the well-kneaded dough out of the bowl. She rolled the dough, cutting out hoof-sized biscuits. After placing them on the trays and sliding the trays into the oven, Cotton looked around; she had made a bit of a mess.

She crossed over to the sink, deciding to try and at least clean off the dough that had matted all through the hair on her fetlocks. She was going to ask her dad for help, but when she found him asleep, Cotton decided against waking him. She managed to get most of the dough off, but realised she would have to wait until bathtime to get really clean.

While she waited for the biscuits to cook, Cotton prepared the ingredients for the icing. She awkwardly beat the butter and sugar, refusing to wake her dad up from his slumber. It took a lot longer, having to use her mouth to hold the beater, but it gave her something to do while the biscuits baked. She poured out portions of icing into five smaller mixing bowls, colouring each one with a different food dye.

Cotton tipped some pink, white and yellow coloured icing into three different piping bags, arranging them on the bench so she didn’t forget which colour was in each one. She wanted to say thanks to everypony, and it was important that she get everything right.

Ж

Spike awoke to the sound of a clattering tray.

“Owww, hoth hoth hoth.” Cotton hissed, fanning her tongue with a hoof as she dropped the dirty tray into the sink.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Spike asked, blinking his eyes. “Sorry, Cotton. Daddy didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I’m okay, Daddy,” Cotton reassured him. “I was going to wash it; I didn’t think the tray was still hot. I’m just about done.”

Spike lifted himself to his feet and looked down at the plate of cookies. Twelve cookies, each with their own decorations; four smiling yellow suns on white icing, four smiling white moons on dark-blue icing, and four pink smiling stars on lavender icing.

“Oh, Cotton. They look wonderful!” It didn’t matter to Spike how crudely-drawn they were; the thought she put into them was what made them so precious. Despite the kindness of the gesture, a dark thought crossed Spike’s mind.

Twelve cookies, three cutie marks.

Nothing about her father.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts that had entered his mind.

I’m her father, he reasoned, she didn’t have to do anything special for me.

I’m not a pony, I don’t have a cutie mark. What would she draw?

“Should we take these to your aunties, Cotton?” Spike asked, before his thoughts could get the better of him. “I am sure they will love them.”

Oblivious to the conflict of emotions warring across her father’s face, Cotton dashed back to the oven, calling back. “Not yet, there’s still one more batch in the oven.” She grabbed the tray tongs in her mouth, and pulled the last tray out of the oven, tipping the biscuits onto a second plate.

Spike looked down at the second plate of biscuits. Twelve butter cookies, each dotted with chunks of small green topaz and amethyst gems.

Cotton stared at her hooves. “E-Even though we didn’t get to go on any rides together, I had a really good time.” Cotton walked around the table, and placed a kiss on her father’s cheek. “Thank you for today, Dad.”

Cotton yelped as Spike pulled his daughter into a tight hug; neither daughter nor dragon noticed the silver flash.

Ж

“It stiiiiiiiings,” Luna moaned as she sat at the dining room table.

“Why didn’t you put on any sunscreen?” the solar alicorn asked with a chuckle.

“W-We did not think We had to,” Luna replied.

“Luna, you spend most days sleeping,” Twilight lectured the nocturnal alicorn. “Your skin would be extra sensitive towards the sun’s ultraviolet rays. Don’t worry, I’ll rub some aloe cream on my princess later, that should help with the stinging—”

“Auntie Princesses! Auntie Princesses!” Cotton Candy burst through the doors to the dining hall, her father following closely behind carrying two plates and a very cheery smile.

“Cotton, it’s not ‘Auntie Princesses’, the correct pluralization would be—” Twilight’s impending lecture was hushed by Luna, who happily jammed almost her entire hoof in Twilight’s mouth, while Celestia chuckled at the pair.

“What is it, Cotton?” Luna smirked, watching as Spike set the plates down on the table.

Cotton twisted to the side, showing off the image of a plate of biscuits adorning her flank. “I got my cutie mark!”

End of Act One

Chapter Ten - Party Time (Part One)

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Chapter Eleven - Party Time (Part Two)

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Chapter Twelve - Rub It In

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Chapter Thirteen - Smooth Moves

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Chapter Fourteen - THIS CHAPTER INCLUDE BEST YAK!!

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Chapter Fifteen - Drop, Stop, Out Cold

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Chapter Sixteen - Taking Advice

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Chapter Seventeen - Intervention

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Chapter Eighteen - How Time Flies

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Chapter Nineteen - They Come With Pictures Now?!

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Chapter Twenty - We Prefer the Term 'Observing'

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Chapter Twenty-One - Some Beans Aren't So Easily Spilled

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Chapter Twenty-Two - A Little Elbow Grease

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Chapter Twenty-Three - Honor and Offer

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Chapter Twenty-Four - No Fun Anymore

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Chapter Twenty-Five - The Market is Overrated

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Chapter Twenty-Six - Summer Days

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Chapter Twenty-Seven - How to Sway Your Dragon

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Chapter Twenty-Eight - Head in the Clouds

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Chapter Twenty-Nine - Consequences

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Chapter Thirty - Forever Family

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Chapter Thirty-One - Rips and Tears

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Chapter Thirty-Two - Correspondence (Part One)

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Chapter Thirty-Three - Correspondence (Part Two)

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Chapter Thirty-Four - Correspondence (Part Three)

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Chapter Thirty-Five - In the Presence of the Lord

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Chapter Thirty-Six - Order in the Court

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Chapter Thirty-Seven - Keep It In Mind

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Chapter Thirty-Eight - Cookies and Cons

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Chapter Thirty-Nine - What I Really Want

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Chapter Forty - Sooner or Later

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Chapter Forty-One - It Comes with the Territory

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Chapter Forty-Two - Moral Support

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Chapter Forty-Three - The War of the Chocolate Chip

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Chapter Forty-Four - The War Will Be Televised

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Chapter Forty-Five - Premeditated Defensive Maneuvers

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Chapter Forty-Six - Not Going Anywhere

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Chapter Forty-Seven - Fixated Vision

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Chapter Forty-Eight - It Takes Time

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Chapter Forty-Nine - Thank You For Your Service

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Chapter Fifty - Back to Work?

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Chapter Fifty-One - Just Breakfast

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Chapter Fifty-Two - ...And Desserts

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Chapter Fifty-Three - The Next Chapter

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Chapter Fifty-Four - Legalese is a Breeze

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Chapter Fifty-Five - I Have Several Questions

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Chapter Fifty-Six - The Dotted Line

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Chapter Fifty-Seven - One Last Morning Meal

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Chapter Fifty-Eight - Heavy Hopes

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Chapter Fifty-Nine - Noble Opposition (Part One)

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Chapter Sixty - Noble Opposition (Part Two)

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Chapter Sixty-One - Mutual Benefits

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Chapter Sixty-Two - The Canterlot Review, 4-18-79 Page 4C

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Chapter Sixty-Three - None to One [Hundred]

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Chapter Sixty-Four - Into the Aether

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Prologue

“Somepony wants to adopt me?” Cotton Candy flittered in the air, her wings buzzing with excitement.

Mother Matron was torn between joy and trepidation, watching the raspberry-maned filly flit about the room. She smiled weakly.

The little filly was dear to her heart, and it broke the old mare each time the little pale-tangelo pegasus was passed over. Cotton had lost her parents during the Great Fire of Canterlot, and was barely three years old when she was admitted to the orphanage. Matron had grown fond of her over the last nine years. Cotton was always polite, and as she grew older, she started helping Matron care for the younger children.

Every year, she would watch the other foals find homes with loving parents. Every year, she would grow older. Every year she would lose a little more hope; Matron watched it seep from her face, her eyes, and her gait. Every year she was ignored, because of her scars.

“Yes, there is some… pony, who wants to adopt you. I’ve met him and he is very, very nice. But it is very important for you to remember…” Matron’s smile faltered. She was worried she was setting Cotton up for disappointment. “Ultimately, the decision is up to you.”

Ж

When Matron had received the letter bearing the seal of Her Royal Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle, she had expected it would be the response to her request for more funding. She had not expected it to be a letter of sponsorship for adoption.

The Princess’ brother was looking to adopt. The request confused Matron; Princess Cadence and Shining Armor had several foals of their own. And insofar as everypony was aware, there were no marital issues between the Princess and the Princess-consort husband.  But the sponsorship was for a single-parent adoption.

Adoptions would often only be granted to single parents under special circumstances, but Matron had to admit, this was one doozy of a special circumstance.

She had been called to the palace for the initial interview. While definitely unorthodox, she had understood that anypony attached to the Royal Court would require some amount of privacy, so she acquiesced. Not that she would have dreamed denying a royal request.

The gent wishing to adopt came with glowing recommendations from not just one, but four princesses. He was the Chief Librarian for the Royal Canterlot Archives, with doctorates in Library Sciences, Equestrian History, and Fine Arts. He had been knighted for services to both Equestria and the Crystal Empire. She could not question his credentials as a fitting role model and likely suitable parent.

What the letter had not mentioned was that he stood twelve feet tall on all fours, and over thirty feet from muzzle to tail, with razor sharp claws, green spines along his back, and gleaming purple scales, along with two large, talon-tipped wings. It most certainly did not mention the massive white teeth that greeted her when he smiled.

Matron’s first meeting with the father-to-be was soured by an ear-splitting scream and a bout of fainting.

Ж

“This was a dumb idea, Twilight,” a deep voice resonated throughout the room.

“Hush, Spike,” a softer voice chided. “She’ll be okay. Why don’t you ask one of the staff to fetch us all some tea?”

Matron came to with Princess Twilight Sparkle kneeling over her, waving smelling salts under her nose. She blinked her eyes and tried to pull herself up.

“Oh, Your Majesty!” Matron got to her hooves. She looked warily around the room. Nopony was there aside from the Princess and several guards. “I am so very sorry, it must have been the excitement of coming to the palace. I thought I saw a d–”

Spike reentered the room. “Tasty Twist wants to know if we’d like any pastries with the tea.”

“d–d–d–”

“Oh dear…” Twilight chewed her lip nervously.

“GUARDS! HELP! THERE’S A DRAGON!” Matron backed towards the door.

It was only years of professionalism that stopped the guards from laughing. Professionalism, and the look of hurt across their friend’s face.

“Ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if y’all didn’t scream at Sir Spike.” A gruff looking stallion with a scarlet-grey coat stepped forward. “He might look like a dragon, but he’s a damn national hero and pony through and through. He’s been protectin’ Equestria since before Ah was even a foal.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Nova.” Twilight smiled, turning again to the startled mare. “Please, come sit. I hope you will hear us out.”

Matron looked towards the dragon at the opposite side of the room. Aside from the aforementioned scales, spines and teeth, she could admit he didn’t look too threatening, and had certainly not done anything to make her think him a threat. She studied him closely, and realised he didn’t look that ferocious at all. The way he held himself, if he were a pony, would have shown dejection. In his eyes, no matter how reptilian, she could see his sorrow and pain. Matron cursed at herself under her breath and stood.

“Your Majesty, I must apologise for my outburst. And Sir Spike, I beg you forgive my insult.” Spike winced as she bowed deeply before them. “I have long taught my foals to not judge a pony by their outward exterior. It seems, even at my age, it is a lesson I should take to heart myself. My name is Mother Matron, I run Luna’s Orphanage.”

Twilight beamed, motioning for the mare to rise. “See, Spike? I told you it would be alright. Please, Mother Matron, come this way.” She guided Matron towards a small oak table, where the three of them sat. Or, at least the Princess and the old mare sat. Spike laid on his stomach, propping his long neck up with his foreclaws.

Matron pulled a small photo album out of her saddlebag, placing it on the table in front of the two, as a palace servant left some tea and cakes on the table. Twilight levitated the book in front of them.

“Sir Spike–”

“Please, Miss, just call me Spike. I hate that title.”

“Well maybe you should have thought about that before you went around saving kingdoms and empires!” Twilight playfully poked his cheek with a hoof, laughing as he pouted.

“Well then, Spike…” Matron smiled, watching the playful banter between the two. “If you have any questions about any of the foals, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Spike read through the album with Twilight, each page detailing a little about the children in each photo. Twilight had asked a few questions about several of the children, Matron noting that she seemed to linger on the more academically-minded children.

Matron’s pleasant smile slipped as the two stopped, gasping. Everypony had the same reaction when they got to that particular page. Matron had taken the photo, but even with the pale-green dress it could not hide the scarring across Cotton's muzzle and neck. Matron forced the pleasant smile back on her face before the two looked up.

“Cotton has been with you, I am guessing, about nine years?” Matron nodded in response to the dragon’s question.

“Twelve is rather old for–” Twilight stopped speaking as Spike pinched her muzzle shut with his claws. His draconic senses could smell and hear what the alicorn princess could not. Matron’s heart was beating faster, and he could smell her anger.

“Yes, many of our children are adopted younger.” Matron kept her smile. “And yes, it is also true: the older foals get, the harder it is to find homes for them. It is a sad fact of life, it seems.”

They continued through the book, Twilight making a checklist of the different foals, their names, and ages. When they finished the album, Twilight passed it back to Matron, who slipped it back into her saddlebag.

"Thank you for coming here, Mother Matron." Twilight smiled, nodding to the other mare. "Spike and I will discuss which foal he might want to adopt over the next few days. We’ll get back to you soon."

"Thank you." Matron smiled, getting to her hooves. "I look forward to hearing from you."

“I’d like to adopt Cotton, if that is okay?” Spike interjected, before she could leave.

“Really?” Both Matron and Twilight asked with shock.

Spike turned to his sister. “Twilight, think. She’s twelve years old. She’s been with the orphanage nine years.”

“Oh…” Twilight trailed off, looking away from the dragon, embarrassed.

“A–are you certain, Sir Spike?” Matron was visibly shaking.

“I am,” he answered, nodding. “And I know my wife would approve as well.”

“Your wife?” Matron cast her mind back to the application; it was for a single parent, she was certain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were married.”

“I was married, to a wonderful mare. She owned a boutique in Lower Canterlot. We always wanted a child, but you can probably guess why that never came to pass.” Spike’s eyes watered at the memory. Twilight nuzzled his cheek, her fur getting matted by his tears.

“She was a wonderful friend,” Twilight smiled. “You probably learned about her in school. I'm sure you remember the Element of Generosity.”

Matron gasped. She knew the name well, and not just from her school days. Dame Rarity had donated tens-of-thousands of bits to charities and orphanages across Equestria.

“I loved Rarity more than life itself. W–we lost her, nine years ago.”

Chapter Two - How to Dine with Royalty, and Other Esoteric Subjects One Must Know

Chapter Two - How to dine with Royalty, and other esoteric subjects one must know

“I don’t know, Twilight.” Spike poked his neck through the door frame, looking at the decorations in the bedroom. “You don’t think it might be a little too much?”

“Oh hush now!” Twilight laughed as she fussed with the quilt cover on the four-poster bed. “What would you know? This is the kind of room every filly could ever dream of.”

The room was decorated in subdued pinks and blues. Along the far wall were shelves of books, including a generous collection of Twilight’s favorite foalhood stories. Spike laughed. Many of them were rare, first-print editions; he prayed silently to Celestia that Cotton wouldn’t smear chocolate or anything on them, lest the filly suffer the wrath of an enraged aunt.

A diamond-latticed window looked out onto the beautifully-maintained gardens; thick curtains of pink and blue hung sentinel on each side. Next to the doorway was an antique oak prench armoire, standing next to Twilight’s old writing desk (while not itself a classical piece, but having been the desk the Princess compiled her now famous Reports on the Magic of Friendship for publishing, it was worth far more than rest of the extravagant furniture in the room combined).

Twilight, Luna and Celestia had gone a little overboard, having ordered several hundred coats, dresses, slippers, summer dresses, winter dresses, autumn, and spring clothing. Spike had had to put his claw down; while he appreciated their excitement and was thankful for their generosity, he would not allow them to dedicate the nineteen rooms necessary for a walk-in closet to store his hopefully daughter-to-be’s clothing. He made them each select three pieces and return the rest.

Fearing a collapse in the economy should they return the clothing, Celestia generously donated the excess clothing to charities around Equestria. This, of course, did not stop the three princesses from employing the Royal Canterlot Pout against him at dinner every night that week.

The four dresses, one for each season, and two cloaks hung in the armoire, while two sets of slippers sat at the base of the bed. Thankfully, somepony was smart enough to be practical, and decided to select a set of deep-blue cotton pajamas for the colder winter months.

Thick rugs covered the worn marble floor. Luna had insisted that they were old gifts from Stalliongrad ambassadors collected over the years, but they looked decidedly new for things that had ‘just been lying around in a storeroom for years’. Spike would forgive that slight twisting of the truth, as he was worried about the chill and would prefer Cotton’s room to be as cozy as possible.

“I’m just worried, Twilight. I mean, you girls have done so much for me, and for her.” Spike laid his head on the soft rugs; they really were comfortable. “What if she doesn’t want to stay?”

“Spike, you can’t think like that.” Twilight stopped her fussing and crossed the room. She settled herself on the floor, laying on the carpet in front of Spike. “Don’t give up before you’ve even begun. Treat her like you will if she does stay. Show her that you want to be a loving, caring father.”

“I’m just scared.” Spike closed his eyes. “I don’t know if I will be a good dad; I don’t even know if I can be a good dad. Dragons aren’t really known for great parenting; they’d sell off one of their own eggs if they think the baby will be weak.”

Twilight rubbed her cheek against his nose. “Spike, you’ve already proven time and time again that you are not like other dragons. I believe in you, as do the other Princesses, and all our friends in Ponyville. Rarity believed in you too. So please, have a little faith in yourself."

“And thou wilt always have us, Sir Spike,” a voice interrupted from outside. “Though We wish thou would remove thy posterior from the hallway.”

Spike extracted his neck from the doorway, and shuffled around to let the two chuckling princesses pass. Celestia smiled while looking around the room as Luna embraced Twilight.

“The two of you have done a marvelous job decorating,” Celestia congratulated them. “I am certain she will love the room.”

“Twilight’s the one who did most of it,” Spike answered, as he stuck his neck through the doorway again. “Kind of hard to help from out here.” He waved his claw to indicate the hallway, even if the three princesses couldn’t see.

“Oh, Spike! You helped a lot. You carried all the heavy objects for me.”

“Twilight,” Spike deadpanned, “you have magic enough to move celestial bodies. We both know the only reason you had me move the furniture was so I could feel useful.”

“Actually, that was Our suggestion, Spike,” Luna interjected. “We thought you were getting a little pudgy from all those gems and desk work. Thou needeth to exercise more, unless you desire a plot like Our sister's.”

“What?” Celestia and Spike bellowed, each as loud as the other.

Twilight and Luna fell to the floor, laughing. Celestia once again employed the Royal Canterlot Pout, which halted Twilight’s laughter.

“Oh, I am sorry Celestia, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was–”

“O Tia.” Luna interrupted Twilight’s mortified response by grabbing Celestia’s muzzle in her magic, and gently squishing her face. “That has not worked on Us in two thousand years. Thou will always be Our beautiful, chubby-wubby sister.”

Celestia’s pout disappeared as the two sisters began to laugh.

“So why are you two troublemakers here?” Spike asked, poking his long reptilian tongue at Luna. “Isn’t Day Court still open, Celestia?”

“I resent being called a troublemaker, Spike.” Celestia held her head high, though he could see the corners of her mouth upturned. “I closed Court early; I have matters to attend to.” Celestia opened the armoire, and frowned. “This is woefully understocked. I would even dare to call this a national emergen–”

“No more dresses,” Spike growled.

Celestia chuckled. “Fine, spoilsport! Luna and I actually came to collect you both for dinner. It’s been so long since we all dined together, we were hoping you would join us.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You could have sent somepony to fetch us.”

“Tis because Our sister wished to see the room. She has been as excited as a school-filly that another foal will be coming to live in the castle with us.” Luna smirked, looking at her sister. “Why, if Tia’s old senechal is to be believed, Our sister was dancing like a madmare when young Sparkle came to live here.”

Celestia had the grace, poise and dignity of several millennia to mask her embarrassment. Twilight Sparkle, a mere eighty-nine years old, just buried her head in her hooves and groaned. Spike laughed at the idea of Celestia dancing; he remembered it was just as bad as Twilight’s. There was a reason those two spent each Gala greeting the guests, and not out on the dance floor.

“Well, before my sister decides to embarrass anypony further,” Celestia remarked, as she glared daggers at Luna, “shall we make our way to the dining hall?”

“I don’t know; besides getting called fat, this is kind of funny.” Spike smirked. “In fact, Shiny shared some stories with me the two of you might not have heard yet.”

Luna’s eyes lit up, while Twilight’s darkened. “You say anything, and I bring out the album.” Twilight glowered at him.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me, dragon boy,” she answered, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across her muzzle. “Just try me.”

“Yes! Try her!” Luna shouted, jumping next to Twilight. “The fun will be doubled!”

Twilight swatted Luna’s face away with a flick of her wing.

Spike coughed. “So… dinner sounds good!”

Ж

Spike’s mouth watered as the chefs brought in the meal.

As with any time he dined with the princesses, the chefs had prepared him something special for his dragon palate. Tonight it was a lettuce and bleu-cheese salad with shaved fluorspar and vinaigrette dressing. It was served in what he always suspected was a crystal punch bowl.

Twilight and Celestia were each poured a glass of red Bordeaux sauvignon blanc with their meals, while Spike’s wine was served in a large carafe. Luna was served a large cup of black coffee, some toast and a bowl of cereal.

They shared polite dinner conversation as the servants tended them. Spike listened as they discussed recent matters of state, and contributed his own opinions when asked. The staff continued to clear dishes as they were finished, and refreshed wine (and coffee) as needed.

During the meal, Celestia and Luna turned to the window, their horns glowing as each lowered and raised their respective celestial bodies, before continuing with their meals.

When dessert was served, Celestia dismissed the staff with a polite nod. “Thank you, please give our compliments to the chef.”

“Ugh,” Twilight groaned once the staff had shuffled out. “I thought they’d never leave.”

Celestia and Luna smiled, happily dropping out of their royal façade.

“I must agree,” Celestia chuckled. “It is good to let our hair down.”

“We always enjoyed getting waited upon wing and hoof,” Luna scoffed.

“Oh, is that why you outlawed the royal ablution attendants?” Celestia quirked an eyebrow towards her sister.

“Royal ablution attendants?” Twilight asked in confusion, spying the look of horror on Luna’s face.

“Oh, that was long before your time, Twilight,” Celestia laughed. “When Luna and I were first crowned Princesses of Equestria, the old royal families had servants specifically for dealing with their morning, well, ablutions. They would take care of everything.”

Twilight’s eyes went wide.

“Lulu was not aware of this, and when her attendant arrived to help, she reacted poorly,” Celestia chuckled. “The poor pegasus was traumatized by heights for years after Lulu teleported her into the stratosphere.”

“Then she shouldst not have, to use the youthful parlance, freshened me.”

Twilight and Spike burst out laughing, while Celestia looked confused over Luna’s turn of phrase.

“I believe the term is ‘getting fresh’ with you, not freshened.” Twilight chuckled. “Freshening you was actually her job.”

Luna stomped her hoof on the table. “I can wash my own plot, thank you!”

It was at this moment that the attendant who was bringing in the tea and coffee dropped her tray, scattering drink and biscuits across the floor.

Ж

After the giggling had subsided, bribes had been made to certain staff members by certain princesses of the night, spills were cleaned and attendants were informed they need not return, conversation resumed amongst the four.

“So, everything is ready for tomorrow, Spike?” Celestia asked, sipping her tea.

“Yeah, I think we’re ready. I can’t thank the three of you enough.” Spike smiled, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. “Without you girls, I don’t know where I’d be. Not many ponies would open their home to a dragon, and even fewer would let him raise a family there.”

Twilight walked around the table, and draped a wing over his neck, nuzzling his cheek. “Hey, we would never throw family out into the cold, just because they put on a little weight… fatty.” She playfully bumped him with her flank, and then teleported back to her seat.

Everypony chuckled, even Spike.

“Twilight, do you think–” Spike paused. “Could you be with me tomorrow when she arrives? I know you probably have court…”

Celestia cut in. “Luna and I have already divided Twilight’s court petitioners amongst our own. She will be free whenever you need her.”

“Thank you, all of you.”

“You don’t need to keep thanking us, Spike.” Twilight beamed. “It’s what families do.”

Celestia stifled a yawn. “I must apologise, it is getting late.” She stood and gave each pony a hug in turn. “Have a good night. Sister, please don’t do anything in Court that I will have to deal with tomorrow.” Smiling, she left the room.

Twilight and Luna stood as well, to ready themselves for court and mischief, respectively.

Spike bade them good night, and returned to his room.

Ж

The old event-hall-turned-bedroom was lit with a dull green glow from the dragonflame sconces. Over the years, Spike had experimented with his magical fire, with the help of Twilight and Celestia. Ever-Burning Flame had been one of his prouder achievements; the fire would not spread, nor would they ever burn out. They had the glass windows removed, and stone masons had closed up the holes seamlessly with the older stone of the castle. There was a reason dragons tended to live in caves, beyond just having a place to store their horde.

Plush carpets spread across the floor and large velvet cushions scattered the room. There was no real designated sleeping space. Celestia had gifted him with a fifteen-foot writing desk for his fiftieth birthday, the day he moved to the castle permanently. Spanning the walls were bookshelves, reaching the forty-foot ceilings. Most of the books had been enchanted with enlarging transfiguration spells, so he could read with greater ease.

In a world made for ponies, this was the one space made for him; the place where he fit.

He curled himself on the floor, lounging on a large pillow. He picked up the book Twilight had given him earlier that week, and opened up to where he left off.

So You’re Going to be a Father: a Stallion’s Guide to Parenting.