Let it be said, Smolder was not a happy dragon at the moment. Day had started off well enough she supposed, snoozing through Headmare Twilight’s lessons on friendship with griffons. Like she needed to know how to work well with them, given one of her best friends was a griffon and so any questions she needed to know about their culture she could just ask Gallus. Plus, it saved her from having to go that accursed place known only as the School Library -blech!- to actually have to look up answers for tests when she had a free information fountain right beside her.
Okay, yes, Smolder admitted she sometimes used ponies for her own gain but it was an instinct long built up in her kind. Dragonkind! What, was she supposed to drop everything she knew at the drop of a hat and just fully integrate herself into pony society where everything was all hugs and cuddles? No, she had to be tough, just like the dragonlands and her ancestors, unless she wanted to be laughed at. She had this reputation to uphold, she had her nation’s pride to stick to and to keep standing by.
...At least, that’s what Smolder first thought when Ember forcibly enrolled her -involving no small amount of kicking and screaming, perhaps needless to say- in Princess Twilight’s school. Her sister always got her way. Personally, at the time Smolder thought her older sibling had completely lost her mind or had been enthralled by some sort of pony magic -this feeling had only increased when she saw a young drake working for the Princess as an assistant- but that feeling with time subsided. Smolder would have been the first to admit she was furious that a former Dragonlord candidate was a simple assistant to just a mere pony, and often wondered why Spike had given up all that power to go back to Ponyland or whatever.
But, as time passed, well Smolder began to see just why Spike liked this place so much. Back in the dragon lands, it was a fend for yourself life practically. Eat or be eaten, in other terms. Here, that wasn’t really the thing. Here, you could easily make out a life for yourself without having to worry about someone stealing it out from under you. And everybody was so kind, loathe as Smolder was to admit it. While yes, they did show slight tinges of fear towards Smolder which didn’t entirely surprise her given unlike Spike she hadn’t lived with them for years now, they still tried to make her feel at home as much as they could have to their credit. Considering Smolder was going to be staying in the town for about half the year under Princess Twilight’s tutagle, she figured this was a fruitful endeavor by the townsfolk just to increase relations with dragons.
While over time that proved true for some of the town, there were those oddballs like Fluttershy who simply just went out of their way to be kind to Smolder simply because they could. Fluttershy actually gave her meat to snack on from time to time and had persuaded some of the cafes to start selling meat for the non-herbivore residents of Ponyville. And then there was Rarity, who actually took Smolder alongside Spike on gem hunts for her dresses. While Smolder could pass on what the gems generally ended up being used for, she did like the frightful glances sent towards her way by the local Diamond Dogs and how she always ended up with her fair share of gems at the end of each hunt. It was a very odd feeling for Smolder, the young dragoness being shown kindness for no obvious reason. Not that she’d minded this really. Over time she’d learned to accept it.
Speaking of Rarity actually, that’s sorta what led up to Smolder’s current mess. At the end of class one day, Twilight had given each of her prized students -that was, Gallus, Yona, Ocellus, etc…- a very distinctive golden ticket. Apparently, it was for the Grand Galloping Gala, biggest shindig of the year as Sandbar had put it. Not something you just got your hands on just every day. And it was simply not just something you turned down. Least not if you valued your social life. Smolder didn’t, of course, but she figured if every other member of her friends was going she might as well have gone too.
Of course, there were… complications. Such as Smolder actually needing to dress up for this gala. While her friends knew that the dragoness did like looking cute at times, they also knew she didn’t like to expose that side of herself in public. And the Grand Galloping Gala certainly counted as public.
So here despite her best wishes Smolder found herself at Rarity’s boutique, with the fashionista humming this little tune to herself as she worked to find the perfect dress for her.
“This is ridiculous…” Smolder grumbled as she crossed her arms. Nearby, Ocellus was wearing this nice sky-blue dress with red accents that matched her chitlin and wings perfectly. No doubt that was the intent.
“I don’t know actually,” the changeling replied as she looked herself in the mirror, and did a little twirl blushing slightly as she did so. “This might be fun! I mean, there’s dancing, tons of food, and oh, did I mention dancing?”
“Yes.” Smolder said flatly, going ignored. Silverstream could barely hold back her squees as she grabbed Smolder by the face before prancing about like an idiot.
“Oh, you’re going to look so cute!” the hippogriff cried, already looking forwards to seeing her cousin Princess Skystar and Queen Novo at the ball. Silverstream had dressed herself in this coral pink dress, simple but fitting for her, with seashells making up a necklace and a small tiara.
“See, that’s the exact problem,” Smolder replied. “I’m going to look cute.”
“So?” Silverstream asked. “What’s wrong with looking cute? I like to look cute, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…” Ocellus trailed off sparing a glance towards Smolder who was practically growling at this point. “That’s sorta the thing isn’t it? Smolder’s going to be looking cute in front of everyone she knows, and a lot of ponies and creatures she doesn’t know.”
“Oh… right, that is sorta a problem isn’t it?” Silverstream sighed.
“Gee, you think?” Smolder harrumphed. “I’m going to look like a total dweeb, a softie! A dragon doesn’t need to look like that, in fact, that’s the last thing she needs!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air as she did so.
“I don’t know,” Yona remarked. “I mean, isn’t looking like you belong there the whole point of this grand galloping… thingy?”
“Except I don’t belong there,” Smolder pointed out. “It’s in the name. Grand Galloping Gala. That’s for creatures with hooves, like you Yona, and last I checked dragons didn’t have hooves!”
“Well, Kirins do and they’re a dragon crossbreed…” Ocellus commented.
“I’m not a Kirin am I?” Smolder grumbled. “Oh Bahamut, this is going to be the end of me as I know it! Ember’s going to be there, in full Dragon Lord get-up and she’s going to see me! I just know it!”
“Wouldn’t it be Dragon Lady since she’s… you know, a dragoness?” Yona pointed out.
Smolder facepalmed. Not the point, Yona, she thought to herself.
“Yeah, I doubt she’s going to anything really bad to you,” Ocellus was quick to but in. “I doubt she’ll banish you from the dragonlands or anything of the kind really. I mean, she’s spent enough time around Spike to know that ponies do things a little differently right?”
“I’m not a pony,” Smolder once again pointed out. “I’m a dragon, and we as a nation have a pride to uphold, and this… this is going to throw it all right down the toilet once everybody sees me. I’m going to be a laughing stock, I just know it!”
That feeling wasn’t really improved when Rarity came out with the perfect dress as she probably would have called it, this frilly light pink number with a little bow that she simply flung over Smolder’s head and shoulders. The dress covered her completely, and as if to add insult to injury, a gold little tiara was placed atop her head.
“Oh my Celestia, don’t you look adorable!” Rarity squealed as she placed yet another bow in Smolder’s head spines. The dragoness’ embarrassment only grew by the second, and her face became ever the more redder. Whether that was from the loss of her dignity or just outright rage was impossible to tell really.
“Yeah… swell,” Smolder grumbled. “Do I have to wear this? Can’t you find something more… me?”
“But this is you dear,” Rarity disagreed. “As much as I always say the customer is always right, this is definitely you. Trust me on this one okay?”
“As much as I’d like to, I’m just not sure…” Smolder muttered.
“Listen darling, there’s nothing wrong with looking pretty from time to time is there?”
“Except if you’re me…” Smolder sighed, knowing she probably wasn’t going to win any arguments with the mare and it would not do her any favors to pitch a fit with Rarity and act like a complete child. She sighed, and got up off her chair and walked out back to the little back garden which was quite thankfully fenced in and not easily visible to the public eye.
To her honest to Bahamut surprise, she wasn’t exactly alone. Sitting on a little wooden bench between two trees was a griffon, but not Gallus. For one, this griffon was much larger in build and had a pure white coat color with some minor lavender touchings to her feathers here and there.
“...Um, hello?” Smolder asked nervously, the griffon’s back turned to her. “Sorry for disturbing you… I guess.”
The griffon’s head turned, and Smolder’s eyes widened as they met the hen’s own yellow orbs. She knew this griffon, having heard of her from Rainbow’s lessons and the griffon actually coming in as a guest speaker from time to time. But the hen’s identity wasn’t what surprised her the most. No, that was the light green dress she was wearing.
“Gilda… is that you?” Smolder asked.
Smolder’s jaw was agape. Never in a million years would she ever have thought she’d run across the Gilda Gruff who in Rainbow Dash’s words was the epitome of everything cool in the world wearing something… well, wearing something that was so not her. If anything, Smolder would have expected Gilda to be wearing a leather jacket, perhaps some shades. Not this!
“Yeah yeah, just take it in…” Gilda muttered. “I know, I look so ludicrous, mock me if you want.”
Apparently, Gilda hadn’t taken notice of Smolder’s current attire.
“I… I wasn’t going to…” Smolder stuttered out, not really sure what to say honestly. It was then Gilda noticed what the young dragoness was wearing, eyeing her up and down.
“Yeah, I suppose not. Least not in that garb,” Gilda replied. “You wouldn’t have any room to mock anyone looking like that. Tartarus, if anything I should be mocking you!” she chuckled slightly.
“Then why aren’t…?” Smolder trailed off.
“Why aren’t I?” Gilda finished for her. “Well, for one thing, it’d be making a hypocrite out of myself. I mean, look at me right?” she asked, gesturing to herself. “Farthest thing from cool any griffon could possibly be! But, here’s the thing, I actually like this. Looking like this I actually feel sorta cool.”
Smolder simply tilted her head curiously and asked: “How’s that?”
Gilda got up off the bench and walked towards Smolder, and passed her by and looked at herself in the reflection of a little fountain. She gestured for Smolder to come over. “Come on, it’s fine. You don’t have to be shy. I won’t bite.”
Nervously, Smolder walked over to her, and looked down into the fountain’s reflection.
“See here?” Gilda asked gesturing to the reflection of the twosome. “That’s us, the most tomboyish members of our species you could ever meet. And yet, here we are dressed up all pretty like. Wonder why that is...?” she trailed off, Smolder having to think for a second before she realized that was actually a question.
“Yeah, wonder why…” she murmured.
“I’ll tell you why kid,” Gilda stated holding up a claw. “It’s because we like it, that’s the matter of it! We like going against popular trends, going against what ponies and the like tell us what’s wrong and what’s right. Am I not correct?”
“Yeah… I suppose.” Smolder muttered. Gilda sorta had a point. Dragons, despite their immense pride in their long history and their culture and such never really liked being told what to do, and Smolder was no different. And she knew from her talks with Gallus, griffons didn’t like obeying any sort of laws society laid down for them either. Gilda was a trademark example of her species, doing what she wanted to and not giving a care as to what others thought. Sure, she was friendlier than most griffons but for the most part, she was a prime and shining example of griffon kind as a whole.
“See, now you get it, you dingus!” Gilda exclaimed, smacking Smolder atop the head. She ignored the small insult, and the smack knowing she probably deserved both.
“I mean, who cares what everyone else thinks right? Am I not right? Tell me I’m wrong here!” Gilda demanded, and Smolder didn’t answer much to the griffon hen’s satisfaction. “See, exactly. It doesn’t matter what ponies or anyone else thinks of you,” she continued gesturing to Smolder’s chest. “What matters is how you feel in here. Are you happy wearing something like this?” she asked.
“Yeah, I suppose…” Smolder replied with a small nodding of her head.
“Then what’s to get all worked up about?” Gilda asked. “I mean, you’re going to be enjoying yourself looking like this aren’t you?” she continued.
“Yeah… Yeah, I am!” Smolder admitted.
“So, what’s holding you back?”
“My sister… Lady Ember,” Smolder admitted. “Can you imagine her expression if I walked into the Grand Galloping Gala looking like… well, this?” she asked, gesturing to herself with her claws. “I’d be an embarrassment to the dragon nation!”
“If she’s really your sister, and she really loves you then she won’t care one jot,” Gilda continued, poking Smolder several more times in the chest for good measure. “All that should matter to her is that you’re happy, and having the time of your life. Grand Galloping Gala, not many chances come by like this, you really should take it. Seriously, life’s full of moments like this, and here you are, afraid and all worried and you’re about to let this one pass you on by! You’ll look back at this in the years to come, thinking about what-ifs and maybes. Seriously at your age, you’re at the prime of your life. You shouldn’t come out of that time with a lot of regrets right?” Gilda asked.
“No, no I shouldn’t!” Smolder agreed, and Gilda smacked her on the back.
“That’s the spirit!” she chorused. “Seriously kid, if anyone had eyes, you’d knock ‘em all dead looking like that. Seriously, I know you probably don’t like to hear this knowing who you are -as I myself see quite a bit of me in you- but you look downright adorable. Anyone your age would be some sort of an idiot and then some not to come up and ask you for a dance!”
Smolder flushed red, and this time it was definitely from embarrassment. As she rubbed her arm with a claw, she stuttered out: “Y-Yeah, I suppose that’s true…”
Gilda quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, so there is someone? Yeah, I thought as much. Come on, tell me his name. Or hers, I won’t judge. Seriously, I won’t!”
“G-Gallus,” Smolder admitted and Gilda laughed in triumph. “I… I do think he’s sorta cute, and he’s wearing this tuxedo tonight that makes him look absolutely…”
“Drop dead handsome? Yeah, I saw him being fit for that penguin suit earlier. He does look like a good catch for someone your age. You’d be dumb not to ask him out. Seems like a nice young kid.”
“Yeah, he’s fun to be around,” Smolder agreed absolutely embarrassed to be talking about boys with someone at all. “Always knows how to tell a good joke or two. Never fails to make the class laugh.”
“Class clown? Even better! Gotta love a funnyman!” Gilda encouraged. “Seriously; girl, this is your chance! Do somethin’ about it!’
“You know what?” Smolder replied clenching her fist. “I will! Who cares what anyone else thinks! This night is for me, and me alone! That’s the end of it!”
“Like I said, that’s the spirit!” Gilda exclaimed. “Griffons, like dragons take what they want and don’t let anything stop them. Seeing you so held up like that, a dragon so nervous to act on her own wants, just feels wrong y’know?”
“Just why did are you taking such an interest in this anyways?” Smolder asked. “I mean, I’m not exactly someone you’d normally concern yourself with right?”
“You spoke to me first, and it’d be rude of me not to respond. Plus, as I said before, I see a bit of myself in you kid.” Gilda replied. “Now get going! I think I hear Rarity calling for you. Tartarus, I think I hear her calling for me, saying something about getting our dresses refitted. ...Knew something felt off about this…” she muttered tugging at her own attire.
Smolder could only laugh. “Yeah, same here!” she agreed, with a newfound confidence filling her. Later that night, as the chariot pulled up to Canterlot Castle’s drawbridge, Smolder stepped out of it filled with something new, and even as ponies stared at her she smirked. So what? She was happy, and that was the end of it.
The End
Author's Note
Okay, I admit, I had to write this. Soon as I saw that art, I had to do this on a whimsy. Though it might be fun. I was right. God, I love writing characters like Gilda and Smolder, the tough tomgirls of their races. Always a hoot.
Anyways, comments and feedback are welcomed and be sure to give a shout-out to the artist and a pat on the back. Seriously, without that piece, I would be out one less idea!
