Twilight Sparkle's Not-So-Secret Shipfic Folder
For the thirty-fifth time in a row, Spike awoke to the sound of a quill scratching on parchment. As with the thirty-four mornings previous, Celestia had not yet raised the sun. I can't believe she's writing again, Spike thought. I wonder what she's writing, anyway... He tossed his blanket aside and crawled from his basket.
Twilight Sparkle sat amidst a sea of scrolls—some rolled up and covered in ink blotches, others unblemished—and wrote by candlelight. As her magic guided the quill, her tail swished back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. She was oblivious to Spike's approach, completely absorbed in her own little world.
Spike pulled a scroll from the top of the pile and, with a glance back to make sure he had not been spotted, returned to his basket, grabbing his discarded blanket on the way. Instead of trying to go back to sleep like usual, he curled up and began to read the scroll by the flickering light of Twilight’s candle.
What kind of letters is she writing to Princess—oh. His jaw dropped. Holy Celestia... It was not a checklist or some letter to the Princess. It was a story—the kind of story he never thought he would see Twilight write. The story's title read, Rainbow Dash x Me Shipfic Number Forty-Two. It started off innocently enough, with Twilight and Rainbow Dash going to the park for a picnic. But once they reached a tall oak, any notion they had of eating had been long forgotten.
Spike's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he read a detailed description of Twilight and Rainbow kissing under the tree's shade. Fireworks exploded in a shower of stars overhead. I didn't know ponies kissed like that, he thought, noticing Twilight's writing becoming sloppier by the sentence. He gave up after reading three paragraphs that consisted solely of descriptions of their tongues interacting.
He shuddered and rolled the scroll back up. Wait a second. I wonder... He slinked back to the stack of scrolls and grabbed three more. The first one was almost the same as the last, only this time it was Applejack instead of Rainbow. The next featured Rainbow again, but this time they were making out in the middle of a cloud fort Rainbow had built. Spike was gagging by the time he was halfway through the third and final scroll, which was about Twilight and Rarity tongue wrestling in a pile of silks in Carousel Boutique.
I can't believe she'd want to take Rarity from me! Spike was about to make a third run to Twilight's scrolls, but she finally decided to call it quits and gathered them up with her magic. Spike kept the four he had pilfered in the basket and covered himself with the blanket. He kept one eye open to see where Twilight stuffed them before snapping it shut again. Twilight blew out the candle and, judging by the sound of her hooves clopping softly on the wooden floor, went off to bed.
Remembering the Ponyville Biannual Flea Market that afternoon, Spike hatched a plan. Once or twice is one thing, but this has to stop. Enough is enough. I think it's time she learned a lesson... He giggled himself to sleep.
* * *
Spike made sure to wake up when the sun had properly risen. Twilight tended to sleep in after a long night, so he knew he was safe. Her snores—accompanied by soft neighs—filled the air. He retrieved a bag from downstairs and went to the scrolls' hiding place. Let's take a look here. He skimmed a few of the scrolls. They were the same type of story as the other four.
Pulling a face, Spike stuffed the bag full of them, completely cleaning out the cubby where they were stored. This'll teach her to keep me up at all hours of the night and write about Rarity like that! He shouldered the sack and crept downstairs, careful not to wake Twilight on his way out. As soon as he had left the library, he bolted toward Ponyville's high street.
The flea market had already begun. Many stalls were occupied: Pinkie Pie had laid out an enormous selection of baked goods; Applejack had set up a stand of—what else?—apples; Roseluck's stand boasted an assortment of flowers; and Scootaloo had an assortment of Rainbow Dash merchandise for sale, including wigs, rub-on cutie marks, and plastic wings.
“Hey, Spike!” said Pinkie, hopping through the gap between her pastries and the top of her stand. “What's in the bag? Selling stuff this year?”
“Sure am.” Spike rubbed his hands together. “I've got something extra special. Would you mind helping me with my stand?”
“Sure!” Pinkie stretched her foreleg just beyond the edge of Spike's peripheral vision. A moment later, it snapped back like a rubber band, her hoof holding a bucket of paint with two paintbrushes.
She and Spike began work immediately. Spike painted the banner with red and white stripes while Pinkie put little white stars everywhere. When they were finished, Spike wrote “Twilight Sparkle's Secret Shipfic Folder” in lavender paint.
“This'll make a few bits,” he said, digging a handful of scrolls from the bag and placing them on the stand. “Thanks, Pinkie.”
“Not a problem!” She began to bounce away, but stopped. “Hey, wait a minute. What's a shipfic?”
Spike clapped his forehead with a palm. “You don't wanna know. Trust me. You don't wanna know... uh, unless you want to buy one, that is.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Eh, maybe after I clean out some of my wares. La, la, la, la, laaa!” She bounced back to her stand.
The stand had not been open for five minutes before Fluttershy shuffled up. She shifted her hooves for nearly a full minute before she asked, “Um, Spike? What's a shipfic?”
“Gimme ten bits, and you'll find out.” He held out an open palm.
Fluttershy hesitated a moment before reaching into her saddlebags and producing ten bits. Spike counted them and handed her a scroll. She unraveled it and began reading on the spot. “Oh... oh my...” Her cheeks went rosy by the time she was halfway through it. “This is so horrible! Who would write something like that?”
Spike shrugged.
Despite her protests, Fluttershy finished the scroll. “Okay, that was weird... and disgusting. Is there more?”
“Ten bits each.”
Fluttershy purchased half a dozen more scrolls before she was satisfied. Her muzzle was buried deep in one as she walked off, giggling, with her wings unfurled. Spike made almost twenty more sales before Twilight entered the flea market, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Spike grinned. Now here's where things get interesting.
Twilight's eyes bulged when she saw Spike's stand. Her wings flared, and she galloped toward him. “Spike! What in the name of Celestia is the meaning of this?”
“You were keeping me up every night with all that writing. Seriously, I haven't had a good night's sleep in over a month, so I thought—”
Twilight pawed at her face. “You thought you'd ruin me! You didn't sell any, did you?”
Spike nodded.
A vein pulsed near Twilight's temple. “How many did you sell?”
“At least a couple dozen.”
“A couple dozen?” A puff of steam escaped her nostrils. She loosed a long, agonized scream. “Spike, you've gotta help me get them back. Nopony must know my secret!”
“Uh, Twilight? Half of Ponyville probably knows by now. Look, it's for your own good. I mean, have you read any of them?” Spike started packing the scrolls into the bag. With everypony staring at them, there was no way he could make another sale now. Still, he had more than enough money to buy quite a haul of sapphires. I think I'll eat 'em in the middle of the night. Then she'll know how it feels.
“I'm gonna make you give them back by any means necessary!” Twilight screamed again and vanished in a magenta flash. Everypony babbled amongst themselves as they went back to their shopping.
Ho boy, Spike thought. Last time she was this nuts, she totally lost it and cast a spell that made everypony fall in love with her old doll.
Spike had just slung the bag, now considerably lighter, over his shoulder when Twilight reappeared. Only she was not alone. She rode atop a manticore.
“Spike!” she yelled. “Return my shipfics!”
“Yikes! You weren't kidding!” Spike ran as fast as he could, and the manticore, with Twilight riding it, belted after him. How did she even get it to obey her, anyway? He dared steal a glance behind him. Magic surrounded Twilight's horn and its head. Oh, of course. She's controlling its mind!
“Spike, when I catch you, I'm taking my shipfics back; then, we're going to everypony you sold them to and giving them a refund!”
Ponyville whizzed by as Spike fled down its cobbled streets, attracting the stare of the townsponies as he bolted past. Many screamed when they saw the manticore, but it ignored them and kept up its pursuit.
Ah, ha! Now's my chance. Spike took a tight left turn and ran down a narrow alley. There was no way the manticore could fit. He had begun slowing down, feeling that the danger was over, but Twilight appeared in front of him. Her horn sparked with magic.
“Give. Me. My. Shipfics!” she said through gritted teeth.
“Nuh-uh!” Spike spun on his heels to run, but found his only escape route cut off by the manticore. “Uh, oh...”
“Now I've got you!” Twilight pointed her horn at him.
“I just wanna ask you something,” said Spike.
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Oh? What's that?”
“Did any of these happen to be about... Princess Celestia?”
Twilight vehemently shook her head.
But Spike saw a slight tinge of magenta on her cheeks. “No? Well, I guess she won't mind if I do... this!” He opened his mouth and shot his green flames at the bag, which flew toward Canterlot as a cloud of sparkling smoke.
Twilight's legs gave way beneath her, and her spell faded. The manticore roared and stomped toward the centre of Ponyville. Spike fervently hoped Fluttershy was close enough to prevent it from doing any real damage.
“Spike... how could you?” Twilight's voice had lost its edge.
“Aw, cheer up, Twilight. Don't get too upset. So you wrote a bunch of creepy schlock. Who cares? It's a good laugh.” Spike folded his arms. “Besides, I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost a month! You write really loudly when you write those things.”
Twilight gave a long groan.
Spike patted her head. “I'm sure this'll all blow over in a week or so. There's nothing to worry—” He burped a jet of green flame. With it came a letter. He caught it in the air and opened it. Spike read it silently, and fell to the ground, overcome with violent fits of laughter.
Twilight sprang to her hooves and stared at the innocent-looking parchment with dread. “What does it say, Spike? What does it say?”
Once Spike calmed down, he sat up, cleared his throat, and opened the letter. “Dear Twilight. I didn't know you felt that way about me... and everypony else, for that matter. Your presence is requested in Canterlot Castle immediately. And since you like them so much, please bring some bananas and whipped cream. Yours, Princess Celestia.”
Twilight buried her head in her hooves and moaned.
Author's Note
This story won third place in Everfree Northwest's 2014 Iron Author Competition. The first draft was written in under two hours, and three of the following four "ingredients" had to be present in the story:
—Manticore
—Stars and Stripes
—Pushing the Envelope
—Marketplace
Additionally, a "soft" limit of 2,000 words was imposed.
As you might imagine, this is a fairly significant revision. If you want to see the raw first draft, you can find it here.
