Lady Lizard

by Cornflak

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Slice of Life, Sad
Length: 3752

Spike wanders the midnight streets of Ponyville in search of his beloved Rarity. Meanwhile, he attracts the attention of a curious onlooker who takes it upon himself to offer some friendly advice.

Spike wanders the midnight streets of Ponyville in search of his beloved Rarity. Meanwhile, he attracts the attention of a curious onlooker who takes it upon himself to offer some friendly advice.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-18 12:15:03 UTC

Lady Lizard

Goodnight.

The sun slithers down behind the mountains and you feel that nopony is awake at this very moment in time. The truth is that they remain just as wide-eyed as you are right now. Their sleepless forms roam their houses. Some of them search for ways to lull themselves to a dream state, while others feel safe to take part in lewd activities that would otherwise remain unseen.

But what about you? What do you do in the privacy of your room on this night?

You think of your friend, Twilight Sparkle. Recall the conversation that was had before you crawled into your bed. The two of you were enjoying a late supper. Well, let’s not say that. You didn’t really enjoy it all that much, did you? It wasn’t the food, no. Food is food, and food sustains this living body. Without the living body, there wouldn’t be two of you enjoying a late supper. Without you, it would only be Twilight Sparkle enjoying her late supper.

Yes, the food was sublime. The best you had ever had! Princess Celestia herself couldn’t have been privileged to partake in such a heavenly meal. Alright, I suppose that is quite the overstatement. Instead, let’s say that the food was okay. Yes, the food was okay. Nothing special, yet nothing less than satisfactory.

Then what was the problem?

There was a disagreement. A heated argument, actually. You were eating your meal at the table in the library with your friend, Twilight Sparkle. However, you felt that you needed to say something. You did the thing that ponies fear the most. You told her how you felt. The drapes were drawn open and you made yourself vulnerable. Ponies don’t simply talk about their feelings with such brevity.

You aren’t a pony like them, though.

“Twilight?”

“Yes, Spike?”

Her gaze didn’t wander from the notes that she was assaulting with her writing quill.

“I, uhh...can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

But still, she chose to avoid your eyes.

“I think I’m depressed.”

Ah, that was when she noticed you. Your heart caved in when you saw how quickly her head whipped up. That arched brow of hers told you exactly how cynical she felt about the matter before she even opened her mouth.

“Depressed?”

“Mhm.”

You nodded. Already, you felt that you had told her more than you cared to reveal.

“Where did you learn that word?”

The question of your intelligence was surely a surprise. I remember the look on your face. After all, how could she have overlooked your feelings when you were clearly trusting her with a deeper issue?

“I read it in a book.”

“A book? What, was it one of mine? Which one?”

“Nevermind.”

You tried to back out, but you had stoked the flames far beyond extinguishment. She had bitten down and she intended to suck out the marrow.

“Spike, you’re too young to be depressed.”

“I am?”

You didn’t believe it. For a moment, you almost accepted her word as undisputable truth. But you reserved a fair share of your own doubt. I’m proud of you for that.

“You should get some sleep and see how you feel tomorrow.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“What?”

“You never try to help.”

“What do you mean? I’m doing what I can.”

“No, you’re not. You always say the same thing.”

“Spike, this is the first time I’m hearing about this.”

“You just weren’t listening. You’re always reading when I talk to you.”

“Well, yes, but...I am very busy. You know how much responsibility I have.”

“Then give me some of it!”

“Give...you?”

“I look at your notes and I tell you what to change.”

“Yes, and I’m very grateful, but-”

“So is that all I’m here for? I’m just your editor drake?”

“Of course not.”

“Then gimme some more jobs to do.”

“I can’t just...look, you’re not ready to tackle more duties than the ones you have now. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I’m good at a lot of things, but I’ll never find out.”

It was time for you to retreat. Your cheeks looked warm and your throat was tight.

“You have your entire life for that.”

And here you lay. You’ve been staring at the moon through your window for quite some time. You’re thinking of leaving tonight. I completely agree. You have my full support. Besides, we both know that you aren’t running away to never return. No, this won’t be anything too rash. You merely want to get out of the library for some fresh air.

Or perhaps you’re searching for somepony.

Whatever the case may be, your little feet slap the cobblestone of Ponyville’s town square. You wheel around the fountain and you bolt for a quaint little home that I should have seen coming much sooner.

After a sequence of frantic knocks, Rarity answers the door.

“Why, Spike! What in Equestria are you doing out so late?”

Both of us can hear the muffled sound of music creeping from within the home. You keep your nose low so that it points down at your toenails. They need to be trimmed.

“I wanted to come see you.”

“Oh, I see. Well...do come in! No need to linger outside. My, it’s absolutely freezing.”

“Um...could we go for a walk?”

“A...walk? I beg your pardon?”

“Please?”

“I...well...maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes, a rather hard maybe. Now, come in.”

I sneak into the house unnoticed. Naturally, the music crescendos as I draw near. There is a record player producing the sound from the vinyl. I turn to watch you follow behind. Rarity shuts the door and she flits to the deeper reaches of her abode.

“So, you’re positive that there’s no trouble,” she asks.

“Yeah, positive.”

“You do know what time it is, don’t you, darling?”

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, not really. I dunno.”

Midnight.

“It’s far past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime.”

“Oh? Well, that’s not what Twilight tells me.”

“What did she say?”

The curiosity in your voice is awfully potent.

“She says that you tend to become quite...cranky...when you exceed your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but you really should get going soon.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, because I have plans.”

“Plans? Like what?”

“Spike, you know how much I hate it when you pry.”

“Sorry.”

You look so defeated. You shouldn’t feel bad for asking such questions. After all, what is a friendship without trust among two minds? Ah, that’s right. You want more than that. Poor Spike, how your aspirations extend the reach of those measly little claws.

“If you must know, I was having some company tonight.”

“Company?”

“Yes, and if you insist on knowing everything about the ordeal, we were just in the middle of discussing my vinyl collection.”

“Right now?”

“Hm?”

“They’re here right now?”

“Oh, Spike, don’t be so rude,” Rarity chuckles and she turns to face her record player. “He didn’t mean it, Trend.”

Sure enough, there stands Trenderhoof. He must have managed to somehow elude my eyes when I had come in. Apparently, this is your first time to notice him as well. You stand there and say nothing, but you wave slowly.

“That little guy’s name escapes me.”

“That’s my little Spikey Wikey.”

Rarity says this and runs to Trenderhoof’s side.

“Ah, well, nice to see you again, Spikey.”

The two of them turn away and begin to flip through an assortment of vinyl records in a cardboard box. I look over at you and I can see that you’re genuinely livid. You’re squeezing your fists so hard that I’m expecting them to bleed at any moment.

“Since when did you listen to music so much?”

I wheel around and watch Rarity to see if she heard you. I don’t believe she did.

“What are you talking about? I’ve always been so fond of music. It really is the best, isn’t it, Trend?”

“Wow, where did you get this one? It’s the platinum edition too!”

Scratch that. She definitely heard you. Unfortunately, I’m beginning to feel awkward just to be in the same room as you. It’s obvious that you aren’t welcome, and yet here you remain. I almost admire you for your determination. It’s a quality that your dear Rarity will surely not appreciate.

“Hey, Rarity?”

She looks to you and says nothing.

“Can we go on that walk in a little bit?”

“I already told you, Spike, maybe.”

And then she turns back to her records. At this point, I expect you to retreat. Of course, there wouldn’t be a story to tell if you simply go home. No, you take a step forward and continue to make yourself known.

“Is it gonna be tonight?”

“What?” She doesn’t bother to look at you this time.

“The walk. Are we doing it tonight or should I come by later?”

“Spike, you’re really starting to pester me. Do you mind?”

That seems to have had more of an effect on you. Your legs give out and you plop down on your bottom. I can’t say how long you’ll be sitting there. You’ve become so persistent tonight. I look at you and I see that your gaze has yet to focus on anything that isn’t Rarity. How unfortunate. I would very much like to reveal myself so that I may relay the words that your pony friend is too cowardly to say herself. But how will you react if you hear those words, Spike? Would your frail, young heart withstand it?

“How was your day?”

The other two don’t appear to notice you anymore. They’re in their own world and it doesn’t include a little dragon who’s trying to garner the attention of others.

“Rarity?”

You speak again, but they refuse to falter. They even laugh. They’re discussing topics that are beyond you, and they’re making jokes that you can’t comprehend.

“Should I just go home?”

Finally, Rarity whirls around and she huffs.

“Yes, Spike, what is it?”

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

And she twists back around to show you her ass, although I’m sure that her intention isn’t to try and arouse your nether region. You groan quite loudly and you fall on your back. How childish, to make your boredom known to everypony in the vicinity. But you know this, don’t you? Is it your goal to annoy your pony friend until they learn to appreciate your presence? Are you living out a parody of how those perceive you?

“Please be quiet. We’re trying to listen.”

Rarity says this with complete confidence that you’ll choose to stop. You can hear it in her voice. For many years, you’ve done as she commands. Your interests always came second, if I’m not mistaken. You showered her with gifts, and her only concern was to pay you back in return so that she couldn’t be held in debt to you. A one-sided love was never made more apparent than this.

You groan once more, even louder this time.

“My word, Spike, you’re such a lady!”

“Yes, that friend of yours is certainly the sensitive type,” Trenderhoof added.

The words sting. They must, because that’s the last time you utter another word for quite a while. You lay there for the longest of times. Eventually, you close your eyes and your breaths begin to slow down. When you begin to snore, that’s when I know that you’ve fallen asleep. It’s probably for the best, though. The other two ponies aren’t paying any mind, and it would surely be a painful thing for you to see.

As time passes, the couple moves to the decorated dresses and Rarity discusses her techniques to Trenderhoof. I could care less. I direct my attention back to you, just to make sure that you’re still sleeping. Ah, you look so tranquil. I wonder what you’re dreaming of? I hope it’s pleasant. I hope you’re dreaming of being somewhere far away, and you have your very own special someone. Perhaps it’s a pony, or maybe it’s a dragon. Who can say?

The two ponies don their cold weather clothes and they rush past you. I can’t help but flinch when I see you jolt straight up. You look delirious, just as someone who’s been rudely awoken should look. You pull yourself up to your feet and spin around to watch Rarity and Trenderhoof galloping for the front door.

“Rarity?”

She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t offer a final, fleeting glance to leave you with.

“Oh, Spike, you’re awake! I’ll be back shortly. Trend and I are just going out for a walk. There’s food in the kitchen!”

The door slams and we can both hear the dying song of laughter outside. I watch you so closely now. I fear for the worst. What are you thinking, Spike? You’re staring at that door. Are you waiting for her to return? I feel that I should say something, but you look to be so vulnerable as you are right now. You look around yourself. Your eyes graze my form, but I don’t think you noticed me. The couch piques your interest, and you drag your feet across the floor.

When you rest your butt into the cushions, you lean over the arm of the furniture and reach for a brown, three-ring binder. At this point, I’m hovering over your shoulder. You open the binder and flip through the pages. We can see photos glued to the parchments. They seem to highlight various points of Rarity’s life. There’s one from Rarity’s birthday. It must have been recent, because all of her pony friends are there. There’s another one from her filly years. She’s in the bathtub, crying. Her parents are struggling to clean behind her ears.

You flip the page and you show me a picture of yourself and Rarity. The two of you are holding one another in a loving embrace. I’m sure that brief moment meant a lot more to you than it did to her. Sorry, that was unnecessary. I’m sure that you feel that way now, though. When you’re looking at that photo, do you feel a typhoon of emotions engulf you? Perhaps you feel jaded to the very idea that you and her could ever be together. Is that why you came here? To spite her because she’s moved on? What would have happened on that walk with Rarity?

The binder is slammed shut and it’s tossed across the room. You grit your teeth and you open your mouth. A bright red flame flows from the pits of your lungs and dances freely in the air before us. The warmth is a shock to my senses and I can’t help but feel suddenly alert. I hover out of view so that I may not be seen. However, I feel that I should probably exit the building at this rate. You’re still putting that hot, destructive breath of yours to work. You’re grunting and you’re spitting out words that I’ve never heard you use before. You throw your head back, inhale, your stomach expands and a rush of cool air is siphoned through your nostrils. Then, you bend forward and send forth your flames to lick at the low edges of the drapes near the windows. The fire grows rampant, as does my concern for your well-being.

You’re defiling everything that you’ve come to build with your beloved pony friend. I can’t say for certain whether or not you want this. I don’t know if you’re all there, mentally. I could make myself known, but would your primal instincts take over? Would you lash out at me? I choose to bide my time instead, and I wait for your anger to subside. Sadly, any diminishment in your crazed frenzy remains to be seen in the foreseeable future. You can still try to back out, but you’ve stoked the flames far beyond extinguishment. The curtains have guided the inferno up along the walls, laying the ceiling with a black, smokey coating. The wood of the house winces when its foundation cracks and splinters. The binder is degrading to nothing more than dry ash, the record player is producing a spree of sparks, and the couch is unraveling itself to spill its fluffy innards across floor.

You’ve done enough. It’s no longer safe here. I spring towards you and I wrap you up in my arms. You scream and kick, but this is more important than your short-term comfort. I snap my talon and we dissipate into a thin, purple cloud. In what seems like an eternity, we’re whisked away to destinations unknown. Well, that may be a trifle dramatic. I know precisely where we’re going. To the naked eye, it will appear as though we’re teleporting from one place to another in under a second. As we travel through space and time, I can feel you struggling less and less. Perhaps you’re finally accepting my assistance, despite how abrupt it may be. Realistically, you’re probably losing consciousness due to a lack of oxygen. I don’t worry myself about the matter, though. We’ll be arriving any second now.

There’s a flash of white and then the both of us materialize into the real world once again. For some reason, you’re sprawled out and lying on your face like some rotten corpse. Myself, I’m hovering above you as I normally would, watching and waiting for you to make the first move. I know you’re alive. You’re breathing. Now you’re coughing. Admittedly, it made me jump. It isn’t often that I’m genuinely startled.

“Rarity?”

Of course that would be the first thing you say. How can you manage to surprise me at one moment, and then immediately fall back into a predictable routine the next moment?

“You baffle me, Spike.”

I speak to you and this manages to pull you back to reality. You remove your snout from the grass and you push yourself up to a sitting position so that you may look at me directly. You can probably see that we’re not in Rarity’s crumbling empire anymore. No, I’ve chosen a nice and secluded spot for the two of us to settle down, mix minds and converse about the preceding events tonight.

“Discord?”

“How perceptive of you.”

You can probably hear the running water behind us. We’re next to a river that divides the land between Ponyville and Everfree forest. The entire plains would usually be completely shrouded in the night’s veil, but on this particular night, everypony in the nearby town has the honor of waking up to their gargantuan night light, courtesy of Rarity’s house. Even from here, outside of the city limits, I can see the tower of smog billowing from the fires and stretching for the stars.

“What do you want?”

I smirk when you ask me that question. Why are you being so defensive? Are you not grateful in the least?

“I saved you.”

“What?”

“From your little fiasco in that pony’s house just now.”

“Oh. How’d you find me?”

“I was in the neighborhood. Quite difficult to miss a burning house.”

“The whole house? Is it still on fire?”

“Turn around. See for yourself.”

You do exactly as I instruct and then your legs begin to teeter to and fro. Inspect your work. Observe this chaotic web that you’ve spun. Does it excite you? Is your heart beating faster than usual? Maybe you feel a sense of accomplishment from all this. Do you feel blame? Are you mad?

“Where’s Rarity?”

I shrug my shoulders to answer your question. You can’t see me doing this, of course, because you’re not facing me. You’re still processing the afterglow of your destruction. It’s quite alright if you feel like smiling. There’s not a soul that would have the pleasure of bearing witness to your teeth. From where you’re standing, not even I would be able to see it.

“You’ve definitely stirred up the hive,” I say to you, and then you face me with an orange fire reflecting off your eyes.

“Where’s Rarity?”

“Probably watching her house fall apart, if I had to guess.”

“But she’s okay?”

“Let’s talk more about you. How are you feeling?”

“Me?”

“I’ve been dying to know all night.”

“I don’t wanna talk about me.”

You shake your head and shoo me away with your claw.

“Are you sure? This might be the last time anypony gives you a chance to speak freely.”

“Huh?”

“Unless you cross that river and be on your way.”

“Where?”

“That’s not for me to decide.”

“Well, I think I’m just gonna go home. Thanks for the help, I guess.”

When you say this, you take a few meek steps in the other direction while you study the stars above us. You aren't entirely aware of what you’re going to do when you reach that library. We both know that. What will you say to Twilight? Will she even be there? Maybe she’s standing outside that decomposing home with her friends, mourning your death.

“This is your chance for escape, you know.”

I relay these words to you and it puts a damper on the pace of your step. Your head tilts to one side.

“What do you mean?”

“You can still run away before the sun rises.”

“Run from what?”

“All of this,” I say with my arms outstretched. “Responsibilities, heartache, lonely nights. You can get away from it all right now.”

“I’ll be even lonelier out there. I don’t know anypony.”

“Would that not be fun and exciting? The world is too predictable when you’re sitting in one place.”

“For you.”

“And you, too.”

“Nope.”

I laugh at your stubborn ways. How much longer can you lie to yourself?

“Spike, Spike, you amuse me to no end.”

“Great. Glad you enjoyed the show. I’m going home now.”

“Ah, but what will your friends say?”

“I dunno.”

“They’ll want to know what happened.”

“Yeah.”

I pause for a moment to allow this to sink in.

“What will you tell them?”

“Beats me.,” you say with a resounding sigh.

“Come, now. You’re talking about going back and you don’t have a story cooked up yet?”

“I dunno. I’ll say it was an accident or something.”

“You know that isn’t true, though, and I know that isn’t true.”

I slither behind you and around you.

“What, are you gonna blackmail me now?”

“Not at all. I’m here to help.”

“Why?”