The Foal Free Press Exclusive:
The Drama Queen Diaries
Excerpts from the Diary of Ponyville's Finest Fashionista, Rarity
Dear Diary,
I want to write about Spikey-Wikey. He came over today, and was so helpful. He volunteered as a pincushion, made me my afternoon tea, carried at least a dozen crates of fabric from the storeroom to the workroom, and picked up my order of sequins from the post office. Of course, I paid him handsomely for his efforts (a rather large emerald that was just flawed enough to be of no use for a dress, though Spike said the imperfection would not affect the taste at all), and made him a nice lunch besides.
There are ponies out there who think I take advantage of Spike; I've even heard Applejack mention this. I've tried to convince her otherwise, but she never wants to listen to reason. I allow Spike to help me because I know it makes him feel good. Half the things he does for me, I could do just as (if not more) easily with a simple bit of magic, but the truth is that I love seeing him happy. If, in the process of bringing a smile to his adorable little face, I get some of my more menial and labor-intensive chores done, I really fail to see the harm.
There are ponies out there who say that I'm leading Spike on, and that it's not good for him. This is… a rather awkward claim to rebut, I suppose. I'm well aware of the way he feels about me—anypony could tell you that subtlety is not one of Spike's strong points—and I find it enormously flattering. Twilight and I have discussed the usual “mating habits” (her words, not mine) of dragons, and as far as can be told, they typically pair off and breed within their own species. I know Spike is far from typical when it comes to dragons, but still… I'd be lying if I said that knowledge doesn't come as a bit of an ego-boost (not that a lady should admit to such things, of course, but I think that little secret is safe in here).
I suppose the hardest part about refuting the “leading Spike on” claim is that it would require me to admit something that quite honestly scares me a little bit. It's even terrifying to write it down. I feel my pulse quickening as I come to the point. Here goes… I do not believe that I am leading Spike on because I may or may not be on the verge of reciprocating his feelings. I know that we cannot be together now, but when I imagine the dashing young gent he is well on his way to becoming… Let's just say the prospect is a little dizzying.
I still have the fire ruby he gave me. After the unfortunate incident where he grew up and rampaged among the town, I had it set in a lovely brooch to match its own beauty. And I must admit, I'm a bit biased in the matter of the real value of that gem. Out of curiosity, I had the jeweler who made the brooch for me appraise the ruby itself. He studied it for a while, then came back to me with what I thought was a shockingly low number. I didn't let my distaste show on my face, but I fumed all that evening. The nerve of that ruffian jeweler! How dare he place such a paltry sum on the priceless gift of my little Spikey-Wikey?
And just as I had that thought, the truth hit me like a stampeding buffalo. Of course the fire ruby is beautiful, stunning, breathtaking… but so is every other fire ruby in Equestria. I had a run-of-the mill jewel, and the jeweler had given me a run-of-the-mill price. I should have known that at first, used as I am to dealing with gems of all kinds, but somehow, I didn't. And I instantly knew why I hadn't seen what was so obvious to the jeweler—it was because of Spike. I had placed so much value on his sweet gesture, and what that gem meant to both of us, that I couldn't see how really ordinary it was.
Even now, remembering it, I get a bit of a chill. Almost as soon as he saw the ruby, he changed back. His generosity saved him—saved both of us. His love for me saved both of us. Until that day, I had never realized how deep his feelings went. A love strong enough to save an entire town… well, who can blame a girl, if she's touched by that kind of devotion? I think even Rainbow Dash would admit to how sweet that is.
I don't expect Spike to wait for me. I know it would be unfair of me to demand such a thing of him. Above all, I know Spike deserves to be happy. I think I could make him happy (or at least try my hardest to), but I'm not so conceited as to not see that there are a lot of ponies in this town that could do the same. I know he spends quite a bit of time around my sister and her friends, and well, they are more age-appropriate…
And I would be remiss if I didn't say that my love for Spike isn't wholly untainted. There's this up-and-coming travel writer named Trenderhoof who is JUST. SO. DREAMY. And he is my age. I know a fickle heart isn't very ladylike, but it seems a burden I am slated to bear.
If both Spike and I are without a special somepony in the future, I hope we can be together. It will be some years down the road, but as I said, Spike deserves to be happy. And quite frankly, I think I deserve some happiness, too.
The newspaper lay on the table between them. Azure eyes looked into emerald ones as a thick silence hung about the pair. After a few seconds, Spike felt he could no longer hold Rarity's gaze, and instead dropped his eyes to the cup of tea she'd made him. It steamed, filling his nose with its aromatic scent, as well as the smell of the honey with which he liked to sweeten it.
“Spike.” Rarity's soft voice at last broke the silence. “I know you read that whole article, and I just thought I should explain myself a little more.”
Spike nodded, not speaking. His mouth felt dry. He didn't know what she was about to say, but he feared the worst. Reading that article, while making him feel bad for invading Rarity's privacy, had also inflated a little bubble of hope inside him. He was afraid anything she might say now would only puncture that bubble.
“I...” Rarity swallowed. “I meant every word I wrote. Obviously, I never thought they'd be seen by any eyes but my own, but I think it may have been for the best that you got to see them. I know it's unfair for me to keep things from you, especially when you go so far out of your way to show how much you care about me. All I can say is sorry, and I do hope that you forgive me. It's just that, very often, it's hard not to see you as a baby dragon, as someone that I just want to keep safe from harm.”
Spike looked back up at Rarity's face. Something in her tone helped him find his voice. “Of course I forgive you, Rarity,” he said. “You don't have anything to be sorry for.”
Rarity smiled. “That's very sweet—very mature—of you, Spikey-Wikey. I know you are growing all the time. Already you're so very different from the baby dragon who came to Ponyville all those years ago. I think all of us forget sometimes that you are the hero of the Crystal Empire.”
Spike's cheeks went pink. “Aw, you guys know it was Twilight who figured everything out. I just helped at the very end.”
“Still, I happen to believe you deserve all the glory you've gotten, and even more.”
Rarity sipped her tea and continued, “But going back to why I never told you all of this, there was one thing that held me back above all else, and that was fear. I was, and am, very scared that you will use what I wrote in my diary as an excuse to wait for me. Please say you won't.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.
“But… well… I want to wait for you, Rarity. You're beautiful, generous, kind, amazing—”
She gently placed a hoof to his lips to stop him. “You may say that now. You may even believe that now, but trust me when I say that you do not really want to wait for me. Time spent like that is not really life at all. I want you to live, Spike, not just linger.”
“But—”
Again, she stopped him. “Go and make more friends. Fall in love with somepony else, even. You won't hurt me.”
The tiniest hint of tears swam in Spike's eyes. “Really?”
Rarity nodded. “Really.” She let out a conspiratorial little chuckle and added, “If you want to know the truth, I've overheard my sister's friends talking, and I think Scootaloo has a little crush on you.”
Spike couldn't help cracking a smile as he went red. “I… well… I guess Scoots is kinda cute.”
“Don't be afraid. I'm sure you could take her out for ice cream or a movie.” Rarity leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “And believe me, if we are indeed meant to be together, it will happen for us someday. I just don't want either of us to be afraid to live our lives in the meantime. I hope that makes sense.”
Spike nodded, a sad smile on his lips. “It does. I just want you to be happy, Rarity.”
“And I, you, Spike.” Rarity drained the last of her tea. “Now, what would you say to accompanying me to Sweet Apple Acres? Big Macintosh ordered a new blazer, and I'd like to hoof-deliver it to him. While I do that, I'm sure there's a certain filly in the Crusaders' clubhouse who would like to see you.”
Rarity stood, and Spike followed suit. Returning to the main chamber of the boutique, they found the parcel containing Big Mac's order. Spike offered to carry it, and Rarity, as usual, couldn't refuse him. They walked outside and set off toward the farm. It was nearing sunset, and everything was gilded in the light of the dying sun.
As they walked, Spike watched Rarity. He knew that she knew that he would have waited for her forever. The fact that she didn't want him to gave rise to a feeling he didn't quite understand—part the ache of still loving her, part relief at finally knowing precisely where he stood in her heart, part happiness at being given permission to move on. Underlying all of this was the faint but undeniable hope that their hearts might find each other again, someday.
Spike didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry, and so he did neither. He just kept walking.
