Quill Bill

by reikun

Rating: everyone
Tags: Other, Spike, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3674

Spike owes someone an apology.

When Twilight Sparkle heard about the way Spike acted around town when trying to source a quill for her, she realised that her assistant needed to atone for his actions. Quite a long-running argument had culminated in Spike stomping away from Quills and Sofas in a huff, and the last thing Twilight needed was to upset Ponyville’s only quill shop.

Published 2014-05-03 19:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-03 19:00:01 UTC

Penitence

"We're going in there and you're going to apologise. Who knows, you might learn something!"

"Awwwww, do I have to?"

"Yes! Now in!"

The shop bell jangled jarringly and a small purple dragon staggered in, having been butted in the back by the purple unicorn that followed him.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Sparkle, Mr Spike!", said Davenport smoothly, as he welcomed his guests into his store. It was a fairly slow day today and his visitors had called ahead, so his schedule wasn't unreasonably impacted. Besides it wasn't every day such important clientele entered the shop.

"We're glad to be here, Davenport", said Twilight brightly. "Aren't we, Spike?" When no answer was forthcoming she nudged her assistant sharply in the back, pushing him further into the store.

"Mssnragglerussenstupidquillsnsofas”, came the sullen response.

"I said, aren't we, Spike?!"

"All right, yes, delighted!", the little dragon grumbled in reply.

"Spike has something he would like to say to you", Twilight continued. When no reply came forth after a few seconds, the unicorn stamped her hoof twice sharply on the floor.

"Oh all right", Spike drawled, looking directly at the floor to avoid Twilight's withering glare. "I've been told I'm sorry I shouted when you said you'd run out of half the things you sell." Twilight's expression went from angry to disappointed and then to slightly sheepish as she looked up from her assistant to face the store clerk.

Davenport noted this exchange and offered a thin smile to Spike. "I appreciate you may not have much enthusiasm for this, Spike, but I am pleased you have come by today." He ducked his head to lift the counter flap and stepped through to greet his guests. "May I offer you any tea or biscuits?"

Twilight glanced down at the scowling dragon next to her and decided to speak quickly. "No, thank you very much. I think we had best get this over with." Davenport nodded and addressed Spike directly again.

"First off, I'd like to apologise to you for any inconvenience caused the other day. I was genuinely low on quill stock, but was fresh out of the secondary goose feathers I happen to know Miss Sparkle prefers for her day to day tasks. I'd had a few custom sofa orders come through last week and hadn't had the time to visit any of the local ponds for new stock, and didn't expect anything until Monday, as a few of my best suppliers were due to moult soon and they tend to prefer not to be disturbed on a weekend. Geese don't much like surprises, y'see."

The craftspony looked embarrassed as he continued. "It's not much of an excuse, young sir, and as I said I apologise for it. Since you and Twilight arrived in Ponyville, the Golden Oaks Library has consistently been one of my best two clients, along with Town Hall of course. It won't do to let my customers down, and I will ensure to keep a supply aside especially for you in future."

Twilight smiled warmly at this offer. "Thank you kindly, Davenport. I must say it's been a real boon having your store right on our doorstep. Why, I must get through -"

"But you're a quill and sofa store!", Spike grizzled, interrupting her. "You only sell these two things! Why didn't you keep a stock?”

"Ah, I was just getting to that", said Davenport, drawing himself up to his full height and clearing his throat. "I do not just sell two things. A lot of work goes into acquiring feathers, maintaining relationships with suppliers, sorting and grading stock, testing, sampling and filing. Not all birds have feathers suitable for quills, not all feathers are suitable for quills and not all suitable feathers take a proper point either."

Spike was a little puzzled by this, and said so. "If there's so much more to making quills, why was Twilight able to ask Owlowiscious for a feather and it worked straight away? If all this prep work is needed, why was it so easy?"

"Well Spike", Twilight interjected, "I needed a quick stop gap so I could continue writing and Owlowiscious was kind enough to give me one of his feathers. I think he must have been close to losing it anyway and it went to a good cause. It will tide me over until I can get my preferred feathers from Davenport here."

Davenport continued. "Cutting a quill is pretty straightforward, but with practice and time you can get a feather to be usable much more quickly. If you cut it imperfectly, the point can be too narrow or too wide and can affect your writing. You might use more ink on a wider cut, leading you to need a steady supply of ink as well as quills. Also, while Owlowiscious' feathers are perfectly suited to getting him around, the blades of his feathers are much softer than goose feathers, meaning they don't hold a point so well and need to be cut more often, meaning you go through them quicker too."

The craftspony paused and studied Spike for a moment. "Naturally, as Twilight has suggested, quite a lot of the weight in choosing a quill is down to personal preference, as well as matching a task to a particular kind of feather. Some ponies do prefer owl feathers for daily tasks if they don't do too much writing, maybe for checking things off to-do lists and updating calendars and what have you. If you are not sure of your preference or if you haven't used quill pens before, part of my skills involve matching a quill with a customer. Of course there are no particular hard and fast rules but you do get knowledge of this sort of thing. I know you write more than most dragons, Spike. Do you have a preference?”

Spike considered this and mulled the question over for a while. "Well, I don't do much writing for myself; most of the time when I use a quill it's to take dictation or mark things off on lists for Twilight. They're often long lists though", he chuckled to himself. "I do keep splattering the ink when I use the standard quills we have in the library, so I'm not as neat as I could be and sometimes I have to score stuff out, which isn't great on letters. Plus the feather keeps tickling my nose and if I trim it the quill isn't balanced right”.

"In that case then maybe we can try and find something more suitable you can keep with you or around the library, so you don't have to use pens that aren't to your liking." Davenport trotted back behind the counter and rifled through a few drawers, producing a small inkwell, a blotter and some parchment, and dragged a stool through the counter flap for Spike to sit at. Then he turned to his cabinet of stock feathers.

He opened a neck-high drawer and produced a standard goose feather. He had a little pot of hot water at the end of the counter, away from his stock cupboards, that was used to soften the tips of feathers for cutting. It was also a good excuse to keep making himself cups of tea throughout the day, so the kettle was kept busy.

Selecting a long-handled knife from a protective pocket in his work apron, Davenport laid the feather down with the tip on a chopping board, placed a hoof on the barrel of the feather and neatly cut the barrel at the tip to a point of 50 degrees, using his other hoof to steady the back of the blade, scooping some remaining membrane out of the feather afterwards. Stripping away the barb of the feather he then made a slit in the middle of the barrel, sliced one side away and shaped a nib on both sides, trimming the quill down to form a standard pen nib, erring slightly on the generous side. All of this was made tougher by the fact Davenport only had his mouth and two hooves to work with, but practice made this second nature to him.

"Try this as it's what you're more used to, we can go from there", he said, passing Spike the feather.

Spike eyed the nib of the quill, dipped the nib in to the inkwell and let a small amount of ink draw into it. It was more or less what he was used to: the balance felt right and he could write legibly, but the pen spattered slightly if he wrote quickly but held the ink better when he slowed down, and the plume tickled his nose and arm. It was a better nib than he was able to make so that was a help, but it still didn't suit him.

Davenport had watched Spike closely as he tested the standard pen and held up his hoof when the dragon started another line. "Hold on there, Spike. Tell me, how are you getting on?"

"I thought I was managing OK. That's more or less normal, but I am struggling a bit here and there", Spike said. "It probably needs cutting to size but then the balance doesn't feel right, it's not heavy enough for me to form letters properly if I write quickly."

Davenport smiled and stroked his chin. "Why don't we try a few other feathers?", he said, turning back to his cupboards.

For the next half hour, Davenport helped Spike work through a variety of different quills. Twilight was keeping an eye on Spike's output but also busied herself looking around the shop. There were a few pots of quills arranged on tables here and there, and surrounding every table were examples of Davenport's other major line; his sofas. The tables - while clean - showed signs of major industry, with chop marks and old ink stains scattered liberally across their top surfaces. Notes were fixed to each pot of feathers letting customers know to ask for paper and ink, with a bracketed aside noting 'Yes, this means you too, Sweetie Belle’.

As befitted their status, in contrast to the pots and tables all of the quills were fresh and all of the sofas spotless. It seemed the store offered customers test drives of different quills, while also allowing them to test sofas. Twilight frowned a little at this. She always preferred a stool or bench to write from. Sofas were places to relax, not work, but each to their own. She kept an ear open for anything interesting coming from the discussion at the counter and wandered around some more, perusing the merchandise.

Spike tested a trimmed-down goose feather and as expected, struggled with the balance of the quill. Davenport selected a number of different feathers, including owl, pheasant and duck primaries, as well as examples of secondaries feathers from each, which were smaller and better for quick note taking, rather than letter writing.

The owl primary was far too light for slow work but suited Spike much better for notes and lists, allowing the nib to skitter across the page easily and without too much spatter. The pheasant and duck pinion feathers were ruled out quite quickly, but the secondaries feathers seemed a good second best for notes. A much heavier swan feather was offered next, and the wider barrel allowed more experimentation regarding cutting the nib just right, but with the plume cut down and partially removed so it was comfortable the balance wasn't right for the little dragon.

"How are you doing, Spike?", asked Twilight cheerfully, as she peered over his shoulder to look at the piece of parchment.

"Uhh, getting somewhere, I guess. I reckon I prefer owl feathers for lists and notes, so I might get those from now on, and if we run out Davenport has shown me how to prepare the quill properly so I could ask Owlowiscious in a pinch", Spike replied, feeling much happier than when he came in to the shop. “Still not quite right for letter writing though. With the goose plume cut down and stripped just so on one side it is easier but I still make mistakes."

Davenport had not spoken for a few minutes and seemed to be weighing up something in his mind. When he finally spoke, he was careful with his words. "There are a few more options we can try, if you want to. I never like to see a customer leave here unhappy! Give me a minute or two while I fetch something from the back." The earth pony stepped through a gap in between his stock cupboards and disappeared from view.

Twilight and Spike exchanged a look. "What else do you think he has for us?", said the unicorn. "I'd hate to leave here without settling on something, and would like to end up with something suitable for you to work with. If it means less scraping and underlining mistakes then it will be a big help!"

She smiled at Spike who grinned in return. "I've enjoyed myself so far. I'm writing and it doesn't feel like work!", he smirked.

Davenport re-emerged from the back of his workshop and placed his burden on the counter. He had returned with a drawer, similar to the drawers in the cabinets at the front of the shop, but this one had multiple crossings-out on the label above the handle. The drawer was separated into compartments, each section holding individual, enormous bright white feathers.

Davenport beamed at Twilight and Spike. "Now, these might very well be more your thing, Spike! I don't keep these to hoof because there isn't as much call for them, but several unicorn scribes swear by them, particularly for illustration and illuminated manuscripts. It's said that the most historically important books in Equestria have been written with these quills." The craftspony selected a feather from the drawer, worked it into a quill and passed it over to Spike.

To Spike's eye the new quill had a slightly wider barrel than a swan's feather and the nib didn't yield as readily, so it distributed the ink fairly regularly whether he wrote quickly or not. After about the third line of text - “Now is the time for all good ponies to come to the aid of their herd" - he was able to judge that while the balance was quite good the end of the plume was swaying back and forth quite a lot as that part of the feather away from the wing must be quite flexible. After blotting the remaining ink he handed the quill back to Davenport, who cut away half the top of the plume. When starting to write again, the pen seemed even steadier in Spike's hand and was more than short enough to be out of the way. He beamed at Davenport and then turned to Twilight, who returned his smile with a slightly goggled, stunned look.

To Twilight's eyes the feather Spike was writing with could only have come from one source. She gulped down a sudden lump in her throat.

"Is.. Is that a swan feather?", she asked in a quavering voice.

"It's not from a swan", Davenport answered calmly, a wide smile still fixed on his face.

"Is it a goose feather?"

"It's not from a goose"

"Is it a heron feather?"

"It's not from a heron"

"Is it a griffon feather?"

"Ah, I don't get many of those in either, but it's not from a griffon."

"Is it, uhh, um, a cockatrice feather?"

"I'm not sure that creature exists and I've only ever seen it in story books", said Davenport, his smile wavering slightly but not going too far.

"Well then, heh, I guess that could only leave one other source", Twilight gasped. By this point she was almost hyperventilating.

Spike, who had been watching this exchange with growing concern, stood on his stool and shouted "Please, please, tell us what it is!" In the short silence that followed, Twilight took a deep breath and closed her eyes tight.

"C-could you p-please tell me that's not one of Princess Celestia's feathers?", squeaked Twilight, even quieter than Fluttershy.

In the silence that followed that question, Twilight felt smothered and certain that the pounding sound she could hear was some far away Ursa Major stomping around. It couldn't possibly be her heart doing that.

Davenport was grinning so widely now that the top of his head was in danger of falling off. "Yes, I am pleased to admit that this is my small stock of alicorn feathers, presented to me about once a year with the Princess' compliments. While the Princess hasn't visited my little store herself, she knew of my work and has retained me to supply quills from her feathers to those who need them. I prefer to think of it as those who deserve them, of course. I travel to Canterlot every few weeks to prepare some quills for the scribes and historians who work in the Canterlot Castle Library, but several talented illustrators live further afield, some in Ponyville too. Selling these special feathers is quite lucrative and it also makes me happy knowing I have made some small contribution to high quality, important books."

The proud earth pony read the look on Twilight's face as that of a mare who could not believe the evidence of her own eyes and ears. "Perhaps I'll make that tea now? You look like you could use a seat too…”

After a few minutes and a good few gulps of tea, the befuddled unicorn started coming back to her senses. Twilight replaced her cup back on its saucer with only a slight rattle, released her magical grip on the cup and sat back on the exquisitely comfortable sofa. "So why hadn't you told me this before, Davenport? Come to think of it, why hadn't the Princess told me before?", she queried. "I'm her student, so it seems a little off that she wouldn't have offered this to me."

The craftspony sipped his tea and replied. "I can only guess that because you were comfortable with the type of quill you were using while you were studying that the question of changing it never came up. Canterlot Castle has a fairly sizeable stock of goose feathers, definitely more than I keep here, so maybe the supply never ran low when you needed new quills? I said I kept these for those who deserved to use them, so I'd be happy for you to try them too and see how you get on. Just remember though, these are special feathers and I cannot guarantee I'll have a supply if you do need them. If I were you I would keep my hoof in with a more standard quill as well, if you do start using these feathers."

"I suppose I wasn't looking to publish my work for the Princess, at least not back when I was in Canterlot. It just seems really odd to me to write with something as precious and special as Princess Celestia's feathers", Twilight mused. She brightened up a little and tapped her fore hooves together. "I'd love to try writing with them and seeing if they are that much better for me, though. I can't pass up this opportunity!"

An enjoyable additional while of meticulous experimenting later, Davenport bundled and bagged the pair's purchases and prepared to bid them farewell. Twilight was almost giddy with the anticipation of writing letters to Princess Celestia with the royal feathers and was effusive in her thanks to the store holder. "I have enjoyed myself this afternoon, Davenport, thanks ever so much for your time. I even learned a few things today. Come to think of it, Spike, for a punishment you sure ended up having a good time, hmm? Did you learn anything today?"

Spike rested the bag he was holding on the stool in front of the counter. "Ahem, yes, yes I did, thanks Twilight", he said while rolling his eyes at his lifelong friend, knowing a loaded question when he heard one. He spoke much less grudgingly than he would have a few hours ago, however. "I learned that there's an awful lot more involved in this job than just selling quills. I take it back, Davenport. You don't just sell two things. It was wrong of me to say so, and I'm really sorry", he added, while sticking out his hand.

Davenport was quite chuffed that Twilight's lesson for Spike had hit the mark, so gave the little dragon another grin and bumped his hoof to Spike's hand. "My store does name both parts of my cutie mark, so I hoped to show you there was a little more to it than that. Glad you enjoyed yourself here, Spike, and I look forward to seeing you again soon. Now, would you like me to cover the many deep and interesting details of sofa design, construction and repair? I can answer any and all questions you might have! The afternoon is young!"

Spike threw a panicked look over the store pony's shoulder towards Twilight, utter helplessness etched into his very scales. Twilight’s horn was already glowing however, and with a fading "Thank you for your time!", she winked herself and her assistant out of the room.

Davenport wandered over to his front door and peered out of the window at the streets of Ponyville beyond. Teleportation was a new one on him. He had of course seen unicorns use teleport spells before, just never to escape a lecture from him on the finer points of his profession. He chuckled to himself again in the quiet of the store, but his expression clouded over when he saw the Cutie Mark Crusaders charging down the street. He flipped the sign over so "gone sitting" showed to the outside world, shucked his work apron off and hung it up on a hook near the door.

"Time for another cup of tea..."