With a quiet yawn came a long stretch. Spitfire lazily rolled over to her left side, feeling her fluffy mane fall onto her face, some of the hair getting in between her lips. Spitfire spat it out quickly, already sniffing out the morning breath that came from her.
"Oh, gosh..." Spitfire recoiled, covering her lips with a hoof, her eyes sprang open, darting between the half full glass of water on her night stand and the open bathroom door across the somewhat small room. The water in the glass had gathered a layer of dust on its surface overnight, looking distasteful.
Spitfire sat up in her bed and stretched her hooves and shoulders with a yawn, her elite flier's wings flaring up behind her, flapping twice before refolding against her back. She set her hooves down, munching away icky dried saliva that had built up around her lips and gums.
There was still no sunlight, it was somewhere near four o'clock in the morning. Spitfire loved getting some shut eye in the middle of the day -if it was possible, of course- so that she could wake up this early, it brought a small smile to her face seeing the old night's stars. It always gave her a strong feeling of euphoria to boost her mood.
Spitfire took and calmly set aside her thick purple blanket's edge away, shuffling out of the warmth and into the room's peculiar chilly temperature. Spitfire shuddered as she stepped on the brown carpet on all fours, blinking sleep away. She started edging towards the bathroom, but stopped mid-way. Looking to the side, Spitfire had found her blue 'Wonderbolts Captain' uniform attached to the door of her wardrobe, it included the white shirt and black tie, even all the ribbons were attached and the Wonderbolts' logo was, too, on the other side. The middle button of the blue suit was missing, even one of the little white wings attached to the suit's collars was missing, in its place resided a jagged hole.
Sometimes, she wanted to paint the suit over with brown and yellow camouflage.
Spitfire sighed contently, just by gazing at the suit made her feel like she was an Army officer. Not the Royal Guard, the actual Equestrian Military.
They have so much courage compared to the Royal Guard, if all those stories are true.
Spitfire thought to herself while tapping her chin with the tip of her hoof, scrunching her mouth while looking upwards.
Suddenly, she felt her ear flicker at the sound of something rustling outside on the grass. Strange, given how Spitfire's windows are always closed during chilly nights. Nevertheless the yellow mare approached the far side of her room and took a quick peek outside; it was mostly dark, but the slow reflected the moon's light off brightly enough to see what's going on in the surrounding area. Spitfire glanced left and right, but couldn't make out heads or tails what the rustling noise was.
No little foals with snowballs, yet... Spitfire thought to herself, feeling her already small smirk dip. It was rare for anypony to be near her home at the time of winter.
"Ah, no biggie, no pony creeps around at four in the morning, anyway!" Spitfire thought out loud, sighing and drooping her head a second later.
Spitfire made haste to her bathroom, turning on the sink, grabbing her special tooth paste and a simple blue tooth brush out of a glass that was filled with the things. She rinsed her mouth and the dry tooth brush, quickly applying the tooth paste and began scrubbing.
While scrubbing, the mare took notice of her disheveled mane; it gingerly fell over to her left side, almost covering up her eye. Her shiny eyes sparked full with wonder and youth; life. Spitfire didn't see any of it, she just saw herself; Spitfire.
Five minutes of continuous scrubbing, she opened her maw and revealed two rows of pearly white teeth, not a single tooth out of place or height. Spitfire hummed in delight. Smacking her lips, Spitfire rinsed her mouth twice with water before begging to wash her face and fix up her mane, clearing any remaining toothpaste away.
After fifteen minutes or more, Spitfire happily trotted out of the bathroom, her mane done into her usual Mohawk style, ready for the day ahead of her. This was one of the days that she felt enthusiastic about everything, and the day would usually go extremely smooth! Looking at things in a different way is quite difficult for her, but Spitfire learned; it was easier to ignore rather than acknowledge.
Skidding to a stop near her Captain uniform, Spitfire realized that she wouldn't be able to use it today, and if she sent it off to repair she'd have to wait a few hours before getting it back. Besides...
"It's stunt practice day!" Spitfire happily exclaimed, a smile creeping into her expression. "I'll grab a flight suit at the lockers."
Donning on a simple fluffy jacket, scarf, earmuffs and most importantly; her Aviator sunglasses, Spitfire quickly made haste towards the Wonderbolts' Headquarters in Cloudsdale, already seeing some of her personal crew chatting idly at the entrance of the building, but the town itself Spitfire flew over was dead quiet, no ponies out on the streets yet, and Winter Wrap Up was weeks away.
Spitfire landed on the fluffy clouds with a poof, yawning away sleep. She adjusted her Aviator glasses and walked into the Wonderbolts' HQ, elite Pegasus fliers saluting immediately.
"At ease," Spitfire commanded as she made way into her personal office. The reception desk was occupied by a pink Pegasus, sorting out papers and a little bit of breakfast for herself. She trotted past the barracks, noticing that only Fleetfoot and Soarin were inside.
Slate Clean the pegasus janitor boringly looked up from his broom and smirked at Spitfire, tilting the brim of his janitor hat down, "G'mornin'," he greeted her, going back to sweeping the rest of the floor.
Spitfire's office at the Wonderbolts Academy was scrapped and moved over to Cloudsdale to be closer to her crew and be more flexible about deadlines and whatnot.
Spitfire pushed open her door and entered the small office, closing the white blinds shut so no pony would peek into her office. For some reason, visitors do that, especially the children.
With a sigh, the mare plopped down onto the chair, getting rid of her winter clothing and stuffing it into her office cupboard. Leaning back, Spitfire took off her glasses and began rubbing the bridge of her nose, scrunching her muzzle up before equipping the shades back on.
It was unusually quiet. Spitfire glanced up at the clock hanging near the door, it showed six-fifty-five. Leaning back into the squeaky chair, the mare hmm'd quietly, narrowing her eyes, allowing her eye lids to droop down halfway. Spitfire seemed relaxed, but angry at the same time.
The yellow mare's stomach grumbled, and she realized that no breakfast was had, and no breakfast was packed. Spitfire held her stomach in her hooves, frowning. Breakfast wasn't an essential time in her mornings, but nomming on something before going to work made Spitfire feel not so empty, so to say.
Three steady knocks on the door broke Spitfire out of her grumbling, she quickly sat up straight and folded her hooves on the desk.
"Come in," she casually invited whoever was at the other side of the door.
The pony was agonizingly slow, Spitfire strained her eyes to see who it was, but the blinds were blocking her view.
"I said come in," Spitfire growled at the slow pony, standing up from her chair and leaning on the desk with her hooves. As the pale blue stallion entered the room with an embarrassed smile, Spitfire blew air and sat back down on her chair, self-consciously brushing her mane back with a hoof.
"First Lieutenant?" Spitfire perked an eyebrow, her voice was stern and loud, demanding an answer immediately. Spitfire brought both of her hooves together. The stallion was quiet for a while. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"
Soarin gave his Captain a quick salute before collecting himself and gaining a straight posture. "Captain, the recruits from the Academy have graduated successfully and moved on. Work ponies are reconstructing any damage done and resetting obstacles, just like you ordered!" Soarin finished, swallowing hard, clearly uncomfortable at the stare Captain Spitfire was giving him.
Spitfire's perked eyebrow slowly came back into position, a smirk forming itself onto her lips, "Great job, Lieutenant. I'll be expecting the Academy to be in pristine condition and ready for use by tomorrow morning. Dismissed!" First Lieutenant Soarin saluted the Captain and quickly left the office, making his way back towards the barracks.
Spitfire leaned back into her chair again, resting her hooves behind her head as she closed her eyes for a few moments, recollecting on what she has to do today. Without further ado, Spitfire opened her drawer and took out a fairly thick stack of paper forms and a pencil, setting the stack on the desk while keeping the pencil in her mouth, she began filling out the forms. Most of them were requests and polls for things she didn't want to know about. Spitfire took out an ink stamper, too. The papers were all in her 'APPROVE' drawer, so the only thing she needed to do was sign and stamp them. But giving one of the forms a quick glance, she saw that it strangely requested... apple pies.
Oh, Soarin, you silly goof. Spitfire giggled with the pencil between her teeth, signing and stamping the form. Don't eat it all at once, buddy.
Paper work finished, Spitfire hopped out of her chair and went out the office and into the barracks. There, she saw her entire Wonderbolt crew in a line, waiting for their Captain. Spitfire trotted past all of them, inspecting each's gear. She stopped at First Lieutenant Soarin, giving a blank stare that said 'I know what you did.'
"At ease, ladies! It's practice day, I don't think I should be holding your hooves today." Spitfire spoke harshly and loudly, standing aside, near the door. "Single file, out the door, go go go!" As soon as the words left her mouth and reached ears, Spitfire's crew made its way outside surprisingly quickly since last time.
Spitfire neared a locker and opened it, quickly taking out a silky rubber flight suit that had her name initials printed on the collar while also representing Spitfire's cutie mark on both of the flank areas.
Hello, old friend. The mare thought to herself, eyeing the suit that hasn't been used in almost an entire year.
The chilly temperature that had caught the Pegasus mare off guard made her shudder, the flimsy rubber suit wasn't helping at all.
Spitfire took into the air with a swift jump, quickly catching up with her comrades who were idly hovering in the air, waiting for their Captain to give further orders. They all focused their attention on her, waiting. Spitfire looked around and cleared her throat, furrowing her eyes. "If all of you do good and come back sweating..." Spitfire trailed off, realized that her voice wasn't harsh or loud enough, the choice of words was also poor. Donning on the over sized goggles that made her look like a bug, she continued, "Alright, perform well and we might finish up sooner, I know that every single one of you wants to get out of this chilly weather and go back to their families, so, make this easy on yourselves and move!" Spitfire almost yelled, loudly blowing the whistle that was hanging around her neck. The crew saluted, shouting 'Yes, ma'am!' in unison and flying off into different directions in pairs.
Spitfire sighed contently, balling up her hooves and resting them at her sides.
Suddenly, an unusually cold chill swept up behind her back, her wings locking up for a second before continuing their flapping. Spitfire swept around, backing away. "Huh...?" Another cold chill swept past her, crushing her thoughts, it ruined her Mohawk as her mane sat flat, falling over her eyes. "What in the..." her sentence as her ears flicked at the sound of shuffling behind her. She saw a large patch of pitch black smoke materializing in front of her eyes, but before she gave any kind of reaction, the wind was knocked out of her lungs as she felt a powerful force take control of her very own breathing.
Spitfire blinked once, to her shock, she saw the black misty fog seep into her suit and actually felt it enter into her fur and go deeper, she desperately clawed at the rubber suit, but the black cloud simply gave way around her hooves.
Shocked, unable to call for help or move, Spitfire simply watched as her body soaked up the pitch black smoke like a sponge. Slowly, but steadily, the mare began to feel heavier and heavier each second, her wings ignored her commands to keep her afloat as they shut down, lifelessly flopping against her sides. Spitfire began to tumble towards the ground, eyes widening, mouth hanging open. The only thing she could do is flail her limbs in a failed attempt to fly.
Spitfire suddenly sensed something slowing her down in mid-air, as if she just had sat on the cloud. An ominous chuckle rang inside her head, deep and foreboding, Spitfire felt something soft brush down from her temple, feeling a grip on her chin.
Aaah... my dear, precious Queen! The voice exclaimed rather loudly. Spitfire felt something tighten at her chest. She held up a hoof to it, but found out that her limbs were locked into place by the same shadowy cloud that had seeped into her body.
Where was my 'Queen' when I needed her the most? The deep voice asked, punctuating 'Queen' by squeezing the yellow Pegasus. Spitfire struggled against the shadow's grip, but gave up after realized it was futile. She couldn't speak, a great metaphoric lump was blocking any speech from the mare. Darkness began to creep around the corners of Spitfire's vision, she started panicking, trying to struggle away or scream for help.
But the only thing that came out from her gaping mouth was a small, pathetic squeak. Before drifting into unconsciousness, Spitfire heard the voice one last time before the darkness had engulfed her entire vision. Strangely enough, the blackness felt warm. Inviting, almost.
Sleep, my Queen... we will soon rise against the Crystal Empire... once... more. Together!
Author's Note
I'm kinda trying to further develop Spitfire's personality, seeing as how she's largely ignored and rarely used in fan fictions.
Poor Spitfire. ;(
Former King Sombra grinned at his reflection in the tall charcoal black crystal, inspecting his appearance.
Charming.
The purple flames that sprouted from the edges of his eyes were extinguished. The steel armor was absent from his body, exposing a grey coat, but he kept his red King's cape on.
"Ahh, Sombra, you are quite the mare killer." Sombra complimented himself with a quiet, deep tone, chuckling. Adjusting the straps to his cape, Sombra confidently strolled down a long hallway, completely made of polished, shiny black marble. Pitch black steel lamps hung off the ceiling, spaced three meters apart each other, each lamp had six tall red candles burning brightly, reflecting light off of the black marble walls and floor.
King Sombra's approach was quiet, even with all the silence around it was still hard to hear his hooves clop against the stone. The fairly beefy stallion approached his quarters, the huge door stood ahead of him, housing his cherished Queen. He swept his smoky mane back with a hoof, flicking his tongue across his top row of teeth, fangs sharper than razors.
Taking a regal, almost royal, stance, Sombra gripped the door with his powerful magic and pushed it inwards, anticipation growing in his heart.
Spitfire stirred under a blood red blanket, turning over to her side to acquire a more comfortable position. But she was already awake, and any attempt on going back to sleep would prove fruitless.
"Man... did I sleep in?" Spitfire asked no pony in particular, seeing as how no one lived with her. Before opening her eyes, Spitfire felt warm air assault her cheek, her eyes popped open. A large, grey stallion was off to her left, with what looked like a sinister crown around his head. A sharp horn poked out of his upper forehead that had a red smear at the tip.
"I could give you all the time in the universe, my dear." Sombra spoke softly, grinning at the Pegasus.
I... I remember that voice. Spitfire stopped and thought to herself quietly, her expression unchanging. Slowly but surely, the memories came flooding back into the mare's head, her eyes widening. "It was that cloud of smoke!" Spitfire exclaimed, but then shut her mouth with a hoof, drawing back away from the stallion that was giving her strange looks, as if dazed by her 'beauty.'
Spitfire's back hit the giant bed's headboard, stopping her from moving backwards any further. As Spitfire lifted an accusing hoof at the entranced grey stallion, his toothy smile faltered, and worry began to seep into his expression.
"You!" Spitfire spat harshly, not literally, at the stallion. The mare's wings flared up behind her back, ready for maneuvering. "Who are you?!" she demanded. Spitfire's hoof dropped, and she realized that this wasn't her home or office anymore. The entire room almost reflected her appearance off of its marble walls. The bed's frame itself was made out of what seemed like black wood, and the wide blanket Spitfire still had wrapped around herself was blood red, not a single smear or patch of any different color.
Jeez, talk about Gothic style, this stud is insane! Spitfire brought her attention back towards the stallion, who was surprisingly frowning, head drooped. Spitfire opened her mouth to speak, but the stallion's head came back up, cutting her off with a single look. He spoke slow, standing up to his full height, which was almost twice bigger than hers.
"My Queen, now it is not the time to be fooling with me! I currently have sizable quests to take on, but I cannot accomplish them by myself!" King Sombra stated, his brows furrowing at the Pegasus. "I am not displeasured with you, my dear, but my temper has not been the same since... since..." King Sombra sighed, his eyes darting away from Spitfire, struggling for the right words. Spitfire stared at Sombra speechlessly, two words repeating themselves in her head quite a few times.
My Queen.
"Q-Queen?" Spitfire stuttered, wearing disbelief itself on her face, King Sombra raised a questioning eyebrow, raising his hooves onto the bed's edge, "Is this the face of uncertainty I see? Q-" King Sombra was cut off by two knocks on the open door, as he turned, so did Spitfire. The duo stared at the tall form, covered from horn to hoof in black, steel armor. It saluted. King Sombra approached the soldier, eyebrows furrowing. "Why do you disturb us, servant?" Sombra hissed, pivoting his head towards Spitfire and then back.
As it spoke, the voice rang out throughout the suit, creating echoes, it neither sounded male or female. "My King, your armed forces are prepared to assault the Crystal Empire. We will march on your command."
King Sombra hmm'd in his throat, pondering something for a few moments. Then, with a raised hoof, he spoke. "No, it is too early, your Queen has not settled in yet. I need more time. Go, keep my forces at the ready for when needed." The King finished, grinning back at Spitfire. The soldier left as quickly as he arrived, clunking down the hallway.
Sombra turned around to face his faithful Queen; Spitfire. He began to approach her, a slight smirk on his lips, his over sized canines showing, "Now, dear, we need to get you out of... that," Sombra gestured towards her Wonderbolts suit, it was ripped in some places.
Spitfire looked down at herself, and decided to play along with the grey stallion.
I'm trapped, no windows, nothing. So... since I'm the Queen... and he's the King... Spitfire's eyes widened and she almost gasped as she put two and two together. Spitfire's head shot up, nodding with a fake smile to her so supposed 'husband.' She couldn't see herself in the company of such an evil looking stallion. Although, he's quite the looker. the mare admitted to herself, trying to keep her composure.
If she plays along, she might get a chance to leave this place and report this 'King' for pony napping her. That'll teach him to mess with the Captain of the Wonderbolts! For now though, she had to play along with him.
Spitfire flicked her mane backwards with a hoof, huffing, her eyes half closed, "Take me to the dress room, my King." King Sombra's eyes immediately beamed, and he bowed down near the entrance of the door, "After you, my Queen," he grinned, still bowing. Spitfire's jaw hanged, her eyes wide. Slowly, a smile spread across her face, inching towards the stallion. Her hoof moving under his chin to stand him up, and he did so without any resistance, "What a gentlecolt," Spitfire stated softly, brushing the tip of her tail against his muzzle as she left the room with a little strut to her rump. She had to bite her lip to keep her from snickering.
King Sombra grinned, following the small Pegasus, resisting the urge to lean in inhale her scent. The Queen is back! he thought to himself. Finally, the Crystal Empire will burn by their hooves! He can taste the not so distant revenge on his tongue.
"Come, my dear, these hallways are a maze. But have no worry, I will guide you." Sombra strolled past the mare, taking a left at the hallway's end, glancing behind himself every so often.
King Sombra stopped beside a set of two -surprisingly- white double doors, dark red candles burned brightly on each side of the doors. Spitfire almost bumped into him while she was looking away, she just took so many turns, twists and walked through so many doors. Good thing Sombra was there to lead. Spitfire's attention turned towards Sombra, who was smiling, "This, my Queen, is your very own wardrobe room, and it has been since I've established this..." he was about to say 'hideout', but didn't want to seem like he was in hiding. "...hidden castle, yes!"
When Sombra had said 'your very own wardrobe room', Spitfire hadn't been expecting what stood in front of her. She became unbalanced and almost fell back on her rump, but King Sombra's hoof on her shoulder stopped her short. "It has been long since you have seen something so... fitting for a Queen such as yourself, yes?" Sombra chuckled, leaning his head in to graze her neck with his snout, but Spitfire stepped forwards, causing Sombra to sniff the air.
Celestia's feathers... Spitfire grinned.
