BOOK II

Lo, they call,
From bitter seas,
They wax and wane.

How doth the saltéd winds,
Embark upon a campaign against,
My body and bones, aged and witheréd.

Shall my fate be sealéd, as the epistles most high,
Intendéd for loved and unlovéd alike, those amongst the Ageless-
N'er to be openéd, lest the sands of fate and time and toil blow inexorably

Away?

Chapter VI: Of Lineage and Little Ships

//-----------------------------

Earth and spiced cider, sweet and strong—smells long familiar, caressing his nose. Thus, Spike opened his eyes to the rising brightness of the world. From between swaying curtains, rays of sunlight kissed the edge of the bed, warming the blanket under which he lay. With a silent groan, the young drake stretched and scratched his brilliant purple scales. A mumble and a shifting of blankets next to him reminded Spike that he was not alone. In fact, this was not even his bed, nor his place! No, this was his lover’s bed and that same sunlight now kissed her shining orange coat. Again, he sighed happily. I plan to hold her until she falls asleep only to fall asleep myself. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been awake for two days and I’ve spent both of them here. Maybe I should check up on the library today? He mulled this over as he watched his bedmate quietly for a moment, though waiting not too long. Tussled blonde mane concealed luminous green eyes that eventually blinked open. Spike’s own green eyes met hers and he simply smiled, his gleaming fangs parting to say, “Good morning, Miss Applejack.”

Applejack yawned and stretched and reached out to him, her soft hoof gently grazing his strong chin. “Mm, good morning, loverboy.” She returned his toothy smile and lifted herself up to kiss his nose as she usually did. “And by the way,” she added, “It won’t be ‘Miss’ Applejack for long.” She turned her head and the rays caught the facets of a large diamond that clung, pierced to her right ear. Refracted light cast a shimmering glow across her room.

Spike chuckled, saying, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He leaned into to her.

“I usually am.” She did not resist.

“Modest too… I think I like that.”

“Honestly modest,” Applejack agreed and their lips met. Spike reached up and stroked her mane and ran his fingers along her ears. She shivered slightly. Oh, I know she loves that kind of attention, Spike smiled inwardly. His claws, sharp as volcano glass, only tickled his bride as they clinked against her engagement earring.

Even with his substantial allowance, as signed and granted by the Princesses themselves, Spike could not imagine saving enough to purchase a stone of equal quality, let alone finding one in Ponyville. No, this stone was a gift given by his Clan, a heritage that was, up until a few months ago, entirely unknown to him. Yet, to Equestria they came, seeking him: his parents—the Chief dragons of Clan Royum, his birthright. To him and his new wife-to-be, only a princely gift would do, at least in the eyes of other dragons! Spike learned that there were some things that he could not argue with his parents about—decidedly, a war was preferable to losing their son, but Sisters deliver him should he disagree about the finer details of matrimony and life union.

Eventually, the morning kiss found its ending, though Spike remained quite, lost amid the shining earring and its inset stone. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, love?” Applejack asked.

Spike answered softly, “This stone.” He cradled her head in his large palm and she nuzzled into it. He could feel her green eyes searching his face, considering his response.

“What about it?” she asked.

“Just how I had to fight my parents tooth and nail to convince them to let me buy my own engagement ring.”

“And you still lost.” She smiled. He chuckled hollowly.

“Still, I’ve never seen my father so adamant about something, even though I’ve only known him for all of a few days, really.”

“It didn’t take him long to realize that I would have been happy with a rubber band,” Applejack noted.

“Secretly,” Spike continued, “I think he’s glad that he never had to part with that really big one… you know which one I’m talking about?”

“You mean that ring with the stone the size of your head?” she teased.

“My head’s not that big!”

“Big enough for me.” She kissed him before he could complain. She knows how to cut me off pretty good, thought Spike as he returned the kiss.

Abruptly, Applejack ended the it and jumped up and out of bed. “Alright, breakfast time!” She swiftly turned about, taking a hold of the bed sheets with her strong teeth before tearing them off the bed and off Spike.

“Hey!” he shouted, but Applejack whipped around and tossed the blankets on top of his suddenly exposed form. Spike could hear a playful giggle, and the gentle clopping of hooves against hardwood as Applejack rounded her bed toward him. Lying still, Spike waited until she came to a stop and could feel her next to him.

Now! Spike jumped up, sheathed with bed sheets and tackled the orange mare to the ground, her gasp replaced with an abrupt huff as he landed atop her on the ground. With poised claws, Spike lashed at her vulnerable obliques, unleashing a torrent of tortuous tickling. If there was one thing that Applejack could ill endure, it was his tickling, just as she melted under his scratching.

“Ah! St-stop! I-I-heh, heh—I can’t breath!” Applejack squealed delightfully. Spike stopped, eventually.

Satisfied, the drake stood up and offered a hand. “These claws are pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

An orange hoof reached out, gripping hard. “Yeah, sugar, I reckon you’re right… mostly.” With a yank, Spike was pulled down onto the floor once more. He felt a limb wrap around his leg and with another forceful yank, Spike was rolled onto his back. Applejack, mischievous face and all, bore down to him.

He grinned back. “Nice try, love. But, you forgot one very important thing about us dragons.”

“And that would be?” Applejack pressed her nose against his.

“Prehensile tail.”

Applejack barely had time to react as Spike flexed his tail and whipped it around, lightly jabbing his fiancé in the ribs. Amazingly, she held her ground and did not roll off. Alright, Spike figured, let’s see how it feels on the other side! He flexed his tail once again, but winced as it smashed into something beside them—it was her dresser. Both he and Applejack looked in the direction of the sound and heard a gentle rattling, followed by a soft rolling. Something slowly peeked over the edge, something clear, but glimmering. A bottle?

“Horse apples, no!” he heard Applejack hiss as she quickly scrambled to get off him and lunge for the straying bottle. She fell short and missed catching it entirely. “No!” she shouted. Spike watched the bottle crest the edge of the dresser and tumble lazily off. He flexed his tail once again and straightened it. A soft tink caught his ears and he breathed out slowly, for the bottle landed upon the tip of his tail, balancing precariously in the middle.

Applejack recovered and quickly snatched up the bottle, cradling it in her front hooves. “Oh, thank the Sisters! I thought I’d lost this one!” Spike raised an eyebrow, Before he could ask, she beat him to the chase, “Thank you for saving it, Spike. I’d hate to have something bad happen to the Bluemuzzle.”

The Bluemuzzle? What? Spike’s eyebrow rose higher. Then Applejack held out her prize, which, he could see, was no mere bottle. “A model ship? In a bottle?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack beamed. “Specifically, the SS Bluemuzzle.” She ran a gentle hoof over the bottle and stared at it longingly for a moment before gently placing it back upon its once-overturned rack and picked up another, larger bottle. “And this here’s the RSN Alicorn, pride of the Airfleet.” Spike leaned forward to get a good look. Unlike the sailboat that was the Bluemuzzle, the Alicorn was an airship with inflated canvas and all. He gave a low whistle, exchanging glances between his fiancé and her little airship encased in a large clear rum bottle.

Slowly, he spoke, saying, “You are many things, Applejack: farmer, caretaker, Honesty, mine… but I would have never taken you for a model ship-in-a-bottle-builder.”

Applejack sat straight up, holding the Alicorn in one hoof, while placing the other on her hip, for Spike realized that it was her turn to raise a brow. “And why not?”

Uh-oh! Spike winced.

“I may not be the smartest pony in Equestria, but sure have enough brains and patience—Oh Luna, so much patience—the construct and assemble and inflate the canvases of bottled model airships!” Her cheeks reddened and her eyes narrowed.

“Not what I meant, my love,” Spike sighed.

“Oh? And what did you mean?”

“I meant that you’re always to busy, I never figured you that have enough time to have such a time-consuming hobby is all!” He saw the flush fade and her shoulders relax. How did I not notice that they were tensed? With a sigh, Applejack smiled and placed the bottle back on its rack. Also, how did I not notice that bottle before? Spike made a mental note to be more observant.

“Soup’s on!” a high-pitched scream erupted behind Spike.

“Gah!” spat the startled drake as he felt a roiling in his chest. Without warning, his diaphragm twitched and a torrent of heat and green fire burst from his gullet, toward Applejack. Uh-oh! Spike winced. The crackling smoke cleared and Spike registered the wide-eyed stare fiancé was giving him. No scorches or burns dared tarnish her pristine orange coat, but her hooves where once a bottled Alicorn sat, were now bare.

Spike had sent Applejack’s model to Princess Celestia. Apple Bloom rounded the corner into her sister’s room and asked, “Are ya comin’ or what?”

“In a minute, AB.” Applejack did not take her eyes off her still-outstretched forelimbs. It must have looked quite the queer sight to Apple Bloom.

“Suit yourself, sis. Oh, and you too, Spike.” He heard the filly turn about and trot back down the stairs to the kitchen. As she did so, Spike heard her mutter something along the lines of, ‘Why does my family have to have the weird ones?’

Spike took a deep breath. “AJ… I’m so sorry!”

With a shake of her head, Applejack cracked a smile and replied, saying, “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it too much, hon. The Alicorn may be my newest, but it sure ain’t the most precious to me.” She placed a hoof on the Bluemuzzle’s bottle and Spike exhaled in relief.

“However,” she teased as she walked by him, whipping her tail in his face, “iff’n she get’s broken on its way to the Princess, you’ll be getting me a new one and inflating the canvas yourself!” At that, she skipped out of the room and followed her little sister downstairs.

Spike watched her go. The smell of breakfast wafting upstairs preceded her departure from his presence. His stomach rumbled, though not for food. In fact, it was not his stomach at all, but his chest again. Uh-oh! Spike prepared for another volley of flame, this time taking the precaution of being out of reach of anything not nails down. His chest contracted and the flame leapt out of his maw, carrying with it the sparkling smoke and a solid object, which he deftly caught in his claws. It was the Alicorn! However, it was different, chiefly because of the note attached to it via wax seal onto the glass itself. He removed the parchment and read aloud to himself:

“Dear Spike,

Although I am pleased to see that you have taken up such a challenging and rewarding pastime—you are right to be proud of presenting me with such a beautiful specimen—it would be far more acceptable to warn me prior to sending such a large package, so that it may not end up in my morning porridge (and, by proxy, all over me) for next time.
Yours, P.C.”

Spike could not decide whether to laugh or groan, so instead, he shrugged, thankful that the bottle and its contents remained undamaged. Better a perturbed Celestia than a disappointed Applejack. He placed the Alicorn back onto its rack and turned about to join the Apples in yet another unexpected breakfast.

“What do you want to do on your day off, AJ?” Spike asked, stifling a burp.

“Not sure, really,” Applejack mused as they both walked from the house. She suddenly stopped, gasping lightly. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve been awake!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you noticed,” he deadpanned.

“Don’t get smart, love—what I mean is that your parents wanna see you!”

“Wait, they’re still here? Even after six weeks?” How could I have forgotten about them! Only the biggest development—he regarded Applejack—second biggest development in my life!

“Yeah, hon! They told us to keep you close when you were out cold, said something about how you’ll need us more than ever and that they wanna speak with you as soon as you awoke. I reckon they’re still around, waitin’.”

“Waiting where?” Spike looked about, for it he felt it particularly difficult to consider hiding a pair of Great Dragons near Ponyville without cause so much as a stir.

Applejack pointed the tallest peak of the eastern mountain range: the old den of the crimson dragon that the Elements convinced to relocate nearly two years ago. “Over there, hon.” Spike heard the tale of Twilight’s quest to rid the air of the foul smoke that the drake produced and how they had learned to never underestimate Fluttershy’s line of sight. Providence, it seemed, now beckoned him to ascend the craggy heights of that same mountain, minus the timid pegasus or anyone else. Anyone, save…

“Applejack?” he looked over at her.

She smiled and nuzzled his cheek against hers. “Don’t need to ask me, Spike. I’m here for you. Heck, I’m willin’ to climb that mountain again iff’n it meant I could help you.”

Spike smiled back, saying, “That’s all I need.” He then looked at the mountain, cold and still and took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way, sugar.” Applejack nudged her drake forward and they both stepped across the open fields of Sweet Apple Acres.

The grey face of the mountain loomed over them by late morning. Green foothills rolled around and behind them as they gave way to cold stone roots of the awaiting peak. Spike glanced up at the near vertical slope and slowly began to climb. He asked, “How long did it take you and the rest of the girls to climb this face last time?”

Applejack bit her lip before replying, “Funny you should ask that, Spike, ‘cause we had more than our fair share of setbacks, turnarounds and frightened Flutternshies to drag around for half the day. Spike noted the sour tone Applejack used, particularly when discussing Fluttershy. Regardless, surprise failed to impress upon him as he led on. The high bluff eventually gave way to a steady draw, which itself turned into a flat path by which they could traverse at a better speed.

“I think it’s time for a break, don’t you think?” Spike asked, his chest heaving.

“What? Already?” Applejack winked and sat next to him.

“Har, har.” Spike rolled his eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. “By the way,” he added, “Celestia sent your ship back, unharmed I might add!” He beamed.

“Well, how fortuitous,” Applejack smiled.

“I’ll say, though you didn’t seem worried at all.” Spike scratched his head.

“Like I said,” replied Applejack, “The Alicorn ain’t my prized possession, as far as the models go.”

“Yeah,” Spike recalled, “It’s that Bluemuzzle, right?”

Applejack sighed, her eyes searching the ground, “Yeah. That one’s special.” She became silent after that.

Spike looked at her and gently placed his fingers upon her chin, guiding her face to meet his. “May I ask why?”

She offered a weak grin and rubbed her nose against his. “I guess you deserve to know.”

“Know what?” He asked.

“My daddy made it for me when I was real young.”

“Your… father?”

“My one and only,” Applejack breathed. “It was half a gift, he said. Cause the real thing was waiting for all of us on the East coast—that was the real gift.”

“Your father was a sailor and he actually built a boat for you guys?” Spike could barely believe it: Applejack was talking about her parents, her actual parents. Long had he considered her aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings, but never her parents? It was just something that never came up, even after knowing Applejack for so long, lover or no. It was then that the morning light glinted off of Applejack’s eyes and he took full notice.

Oh, AJ… Spike held her close. He knew her. He knew how desperately she was fighting the onslaught of tears.

“I’m sorry, AJ… if you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No, Spike, I need to. It’s just that, meeting your parents, actually learning about where you come from, is something I only have fleeting memories of. My momma and daddy were inseparable and I always remember them being together. Big Mac has a better memory, but he won’t say too much. I think it hurts him just as much, if not more.

“Granny Smith talks about them from time to time. It’s hard for her too, since they left shortly after Apple Bloom was able to walk and talk on her own and she used to ask about mom and dad all the time. Now, she kinda stores it up, like the rest of us.”

Spike rubbed Applejack’s shoulders. She had given up her battle and allowed the tears to roll free, leaving their saline trails behind them on her orange coat. “What happened?” Spike asked plainly, with the empirical nature that comes from being the ward of a young scholar, he just had to know.

And, it seemed to him that she would allow it. “I don’t rightly know, Spike. Not even Granny knows. You see, we Apples adore our farm and our trade, but Dad had a secret passion that he shared with Mom: He adored the ocean, that rising grey and the mixure of blues and greens. The salty air and powerful winds, he loved it all. That’s where he’s from, you know: Manehatten. He grew up on the harbourfront and learned to sail at a young age. Then, he met Mom and moved out here, only ever coming back to sail with her. Being a farm girl, Mom never really took to the water… until she met him. He built the Bluemuzzle for her, and, eventually, for all of us when we got old enough. When Apple Bloom was born, Mom and Dad and Granny worked the orchards while Mac and I helped as much as we could, especially taking care of lil’ AB. When she grew up enough to fend for herself, Mom and Dad headed out to the East coast again, just to finish up the Bluemuzzle and moor her before the winter, then come back to spend that same winter together, with us. Only….” She paused, her sobs growing and tears ever-flowing. She inhaled and pressed on, saying, “Only, they never came back.” Applejack sniffed and pressed against Spike, unable to meet his tender gaze. “Th-they found the wreckage of a small sailboat named Bluemuzzle off the northern shores of the East. No survivors found. That was all we were told.”

Spike rested his head against Applejack’s. “AJ… I—”

“They died together,” she interrupted. “I know that much. They wouldn’t allow themselves to be separated, not even by the ocean itself.”

Spike ran his fingers idly through her blonde mane, blowing in a mountain breeze. Applejack nearly choked when she said, “I fear the day Granny Smith passes on, if only for Apple Bloom. She’s lost Mom and Dad before she could even know them… she can’t afford to lose another mother figure so soon!”

“I understand how you feel, AJ,” Spike continued to stroke his fiancé’s mane. “But, AB is a strong filly, plus she still has you and Big Mac.”

“And now you too, hon. Don’t sell yourself short,” Applejack attempted a weak chuckle, amid the tears.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s thrilled to have me for a brother-in-law.”

“Just give her time, Spike. She’s just a little jealous, is all.”

“Yeah, yeah. But still….”

“I know, hon.” She turned her head and kissed his jaw-line. “But trust me when I tell you that she wouldn’t have it any other way, especially when she sees how happy you make me.”

“Maybe that is why she’s jealous,” he teased.

“Keep pushin’, loverboy.” Applejack nipped his chin playfully. They shared in some light laughter before she turned fully to meet his gaze. “See? You make me feel better already.”

“I do that, don’t I?” He grinned openly.

“You sure do, hon. Although, I’ve never… told anyone that story before. Not to anyone I’ve ever been with, anyway—our friends know, but no details. That kind of honesty is between a groom and his bride.”

That hit Spike like the Pony Express. No one? Ever? She’s never allowed any other guy to get this close, at least close enough to learn about her parents? He felt his heart beat with renewed vigor. I guess the Apple family has always been so strong that no one took the time to notice how much pain they have buried. If only I knew. Well, now I know, I suppose. I still have my parents, even though I barely know of them, let alone actually know them.

“Now will you look at that?” Applejack broke Spike’s reverie. He refocused on her to see that she was looking straight up. “We’re almost directly beneath the cavern. If only we brought climbing equipment.”

Spike looked at his claws and flex his growing wings. “Actually, love,” he began, “I have something better.” He stood up and turned to face the mountain face once more. He then motioned to Applejack to get behind him and hold on tight. She did so and he poised himself. “I’m tired to walking anyway.”

Across the stone face of the lonely peak, Spike, with Applejack in tow, scaled the heights above. With stroke after powerful stroke, the young drake pieced the mountain’s flesh with his claws and griped hard as he hoisted both himself and his fiancé higher and higher. As the winds whipped and the cold bit, Spike felt Applejack shiver, her limbs wrapping tighter around him. Gotta hurry this up, he urged himself on. As he clung and threw his mass upward, Spike wondered what all manner of wildlife would think, should they see him pass. Would they think him some odd creature, as some living gargoyle far from the stone and steel canyons of Manehatten? Would simple wildlife even begin to make that distinction? Spike tried not to bother with such thoughts, lest they steal his concentration.

And so, the young drake climbed until the last steps of the rocky stairs were scaled and at last, Spike found himself at the mouth of a great cavern, whose depths were veiled in foreboding shadow. Applejack dismounted him as a hollow sound grew from the depths of that darkness. A great rush of warm air met his face, carrying with it a familiar scent. Smoke followed, curling around the upper lips of the cave’s maw. The rocky ground rumbled beneath them and the warm air rose in temperature.

They were not alone, surely. Spike stepped forward, crossing the threashold. That hollow sound grew and a deep, powerful voice followed:

“Who dares enter the lair of Dadealus, Lord of Dragons!”

Spike glanced sidelong at Applejack, who merely shrugged. He stared into the darkness and replied, saying, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Author's Note

The beginning of the long-awaited Book II launches with happy, healthy helping of AppleSpike.
For those of fickle memory, here is the link to the original story: Unintentionally Yours

And a link to a little AU side-story that provided some ship-building framework for the bedroom scene: Apples and Acres Away

Thank you all for your patience and I look forward to reading your convivial and carefully conceived, yet constructive comments!

Regards,
-Justin.