Emerald Mare

by Ponypant

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, Spike, Rarity, Sweetie Belle, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 7149

Spike hadn’t bared the feelings of a teen since.. well, he was a child. He’s been fussy, and a rejection from his crush didn’t make the feelings any better. But Twilight has something in mind that may at least temper the fire inside of him.

It had been 2 months since Rarity's outspoken stress-filled and breathless rejection. And Spike, still nursing a hurting heart, refuses on most occasions to visit the boutique. But when Twilight, now busier than ever to concern herself with smaller responsibilities, entrusts her favourite dragon to deal with the matter of a now “adult” filly, he begrudgingly agrees. And though it takes a bit of convincing and gritting through his fears, Spike finds a friend in a place he wouldn’t of thought he’d find one. And by slightly unconventional means ..

Published 2023-10-10 08:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-10-10 08:30:00 UTC

The daunting task of revisiting the past

“Wait, is Rarity gonna be there?” Spike's voice carried throughout the room, Twilight winced, hoping the cleaning mare's couldn’t hear their conversation. She beforehand had thought to put a barrier spell on the room, but figured Spike would be less enthralled at such an idea, especially in this current state of his.

Instead of the usual excitement ringing in his voice, and his tail flicking with the anticipation of an answer that would suit his mind and heart, his voice was deeply coated with the tinge of bitter annoyance more than anything. This, Twilight was still not used to. But it wasn’t recent when Rarity had truly had a hissy fit twice too many and unfortunately for Spike, most of the blow was taken out on him, though he only had wanted to be helpful, and hopeful. He visited the boutique less and less, and soon, chose to avoid it altogether unless Twilight came with.

His feelings almost had immediately dissipated, or so he told himself, and no amount of gentle talking helped heal his heart. Though, admittedly, Twilight wasn’t the best at talking to young dragons. And though with dragons as she’d very well come to know through personal experiences and many mystic books from the Smoky Peaks, he was going through a quickly growing spurt, and thus, his emotions were mostly washy wishy at best, and annoyed, eye rolls included, at worst.

“Well..” Twilight rubbed a hoof on the ground, still struggling with being firm and authoritative with him at this age, she had come to the strong decision that honesty was better than trying to save his feelings, even if this was of importance.

“Rarity is busy with a shipment of boulee da fleurs,” she butchered. “A large order for a busy pony like herself, you’ll scarcely see her!” She ended it quickly and almost joyfully, even that stung her. But she saw how it made Spike's face relax, just a bit, just a tad. Enough for him to huff a small flame or two and turn away, face flushed.

“Oh!” A deep voice said from the doorway. It came from a large bearded orange stallion with wild blue hair. A younger guards pony no doubt, by the way he so loosely spoke amongst the Princess of Friendship. He cleared his throat. “Hey Spike.-“
“Er, I mean, Sir Spike…” silence ensued. “Princess Twilight,” he immediately directed all attention to the object of his thoughts. “We really need you down at the courtyard, we’re having some…”

“Some?” Twilight asked, anxiously.

“..some.. difficulties at the moment.. please come quickly” the urgency in the young stallions voice was both a bother to the princess, and made her stomach churn with moths.

“I’ll be there in a minute and a half!” And when Twilight says she’ll be there at a certain time, she certainly will! She already had her mind counting the time she spent speaking with Spike, and he noticed. The stallion nodded and closed the door ever so gently behind him with a clink as to not be rude, of course.

She then turned back to her dragon. When she looked at him it was reminiscent of a pouty adolescent, though he was quite far from it now. The annoyance on his face rushed back in waves.

Twilight scooted closer to him. “Spike, Sweetie Belle has been awfully lonely lately-“

“She has her friends, Twilight. Why do I need to entertain a pony like her.”

Twilight was taken aback by his sudden surge of rudeness. Like a snake they so called it, the bitterness slithered around his tongue and controlled it with such intent it made him say awful awful words she wasn’t sure if he really meant.

“I’ll tell the maid mares to make you some tea in a bit -“ (the common cure for a hot tongue).

“I don’t WANT tea, Twilight!!” He stomped his clawed foot and made the floors dent slightly. He looked down with even a shock of his own clouding his eyes, and turned away, his face red yet his eyes furrowed and angry.

“No tea, got it.” She whispered, still staring at the dent in the floors. Boy that’ll take some time to fix.

“So..” Twilight gently spoke, her words sweet and encouraging, or at least, attempting to be. Spike could feel, from his clouded perspective, the lazy laxness of her speech, careful, trying not to directly wake a hungry bear, but choosing to do so anyway.

“Apple Bloom is a carriage delivery driver now,”

“And?” Spike spat back. Still red in the face, foot far away from the dent as to not ruin it further. He felt guilt and shame and embarrassment and all kinds of things that stirred in his heart like soup. Bad soup.

“..and, Scootaloo is often busy with her..” she tried to remember the words Rainbow would use often, proudly boasting about the young adult pegasus' success. “mmm..” she raised a hoof in the air as if to poke at the word she was trying to find, but to no avail. “Stunt mare,” she finally settled on. “Sweetie Belle doesn’t really know anypony other than them who gets her, and Rarity is often busy.”

Spike scoffed, but he hadn’t said anything. Progress! Yes this was progress indeed!

“She could use someone closer to her age-“
Twilight stopped herself, covering her mouth with her hoof. She often forgot how quickly dragons aged after the initial adolescence. She slipped up constantly, confusing him for just nearing and touching upon young adulthood, when in reality, he was well over 100 years.

Spike didn’t change face. So Twilight assumed he hadn’t paid much attention to such a slip up. She cleared her throat and spoke once more. “She’d love to see you.”

This made Spike's face turn in a weird way. Possibly disbelief, possibly stifling the stinging words of the snake from his throat. Maybe something of all sorts of that and this and something else. Twilight was never good at reading dragons, she decided. Never good at reading dragons.

He didn’t say anything still, turning the other way, Twilight often thought if he were even paying any attention to her carefully curated words at all! But she proceeded. “Please?” She was never one for pleading, but what else would she have done? She was quickly running out of that minute and a half she had promised, and he still didn’t seem to budge. She didn’t want to leave him stewing in the room alone like usual. She hated the feeling of walking down the halls physically feeling the huff of hot flames from the room touching her rear. And the maid mares complaining while on break, sweating, commonly and downing iced water.

“You’d make her day.” Twilight smiled sadly at him. Spike huffed a single smoke, and his ears arched back against his head. “Whatever, I just hope Rarity really will be busy.”
He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, closing his lips tightly shut and grinding his teeth firmly.

“Uhm, Princess Twilight?” The same Stallion's head reared from in between the door. Spike never felt so annoyed and so much relief at the same time. The stallion smiled weakly, acknowledging the tension, yet staying just a bit between the ajar door. Almost as if he were afraid to come inside yet also afraid of offending if he didn’t. “We really need you down there-“

“Just go already..” Spike said, a tinge of waver washing over his voice. No longer was there the seething snake that snickered at each ill-willed word that it so selfishly pushed out of his mouth, but instead there was her Spike, but sad, and out of energy. She sighed and nodded her head at the stallion, who then, luckily reading the room, or perhaps the urgency really was that large, left with a clink.

“You’ll do good,” Twilight said, gathering her usual High Princess voice and confidence, getting off her bottom and onto her legs. She headed straight for the door.

Suddenly, she stopped, and he had hoped, even for a moment, she’d change her mind and tell him to come help with court matters. With a dented portcullis. Something. But instead she turned her head slightly without looking directly at him and said “and Spike? Bring a few games, okay?”

The door closed with a clonk. Spike sighed.

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Spike hated how easy it was for her to stop being his best friend who he, though he wouldn’t admit it nowadays, leant on emotionally, to a hard headed stubborn straight faced serious Magical Princess who wasn’t bothered with things like emotionality when business was to play. His ears flicked as the chariot was pulled his way.

He decided not to bother with flying, instead taking the offer of Main Mare Hennyrump to take the chariot to ponyville. The door shut behind him as he crammed himself in all kinds of ways. Butt here, ears there, snout where? He quickly remembered why he hadn’t taken it in months. His tail stuck out the window funnily, and the sack he carried, brown and tattered, seemed ridiculous, as it hardly fit anywhere comfortably. And he hated how the guardstallions stifled laughs when he wasn’t looking. The door suddenly opened up quickly, and his ears and snout perked up, hoping it was Twilight telling him “no, actually, I’ll go instead! You can stay here and read SpiderPony comics!” But instead it was Hennyrump shoving a cup of hot cloudberry tea into his hands. She smiled and closed it again. Then the chariot rose, and off they went, flying high over towers and flagged buildings. Spike sighed.

Ponyville was almost the very same as when he last visited - that being well over four months now. Though not the lengthiest amount of time, it felt unreal to see and greet all the ponies he knew well. Carrot Top so gently picking up the spare carrots that didn’t sell for the day, and putting them in a sack. And not too far from her was her rambunctious daughter, Honey Bee, choosing to instead run about seeking trouble. And Apple Crisp, rolling her eyes at the filly, who didn’t look like she’d stop anytime soon. It weirdly filled Spike with a sense of home he hadn’t felt in a while.

He walked along the edge of the stalls as to not bother anyone. Ponies here and through passed by, talking in their usual excited tones for the time of day. Some more gardener ponies taking apart their picket signs glued messily to their stands, and others packing up their vegetables in large bags. Many of those ponies waved Spike a friendly hello and a pleasant smile, and some were careful about what to say, most likely aware of his many .. what he would call, provoked annoyances he’s had in the recent past. Either way, he smiled happily towards them. He hadn’t left the castle in a bit, and even less canterlot. It was nice seeing everyone he grew up with again.

Quicker than he had wanted to, Spike arrived at the front of Rarity's esteemed boutique, it seemed shinier than usual. He had luckily gotten here before the setting sun. He didn’t want to be bothered with staying out too late. He had predicted, in his head of course, Sweetie Belle would most certainly be fine spending the night however she usually does, and leave Spike out of it. Girl things, you know? A guy imposing, especially not one she knew very well (especially during recent years) would be awkward .. and uncomfortable.. very.. very uncomfortable. Spike shuttered at the thought of them sitting there not having anything to talk about. And he hoped to Celestia he wouldn’t have to ask about Rarity's recent affairs.

Letting his overly active imagination control his mind. He imagined Rarity, not aware of his arrival, would be enraged, angry, she would stop what she was doing to tell him quickly (because she’s busy) how he isn’t wanted there, and how she doesn’t want to see him in the boutique ever again. He furrowed his brows and gripped onto the sack tightly. Rarity, even after what had happened, always apologised, and he knew deep down that she wasn’t ever truly mad at him, yet still, the fact of the matter is that his heart was hurt. And she would never see him as anything more than a dragon. He looked up at the tip of the building. And the boutique seemed to become larger, taller, and filled with both bad and pleasantly exciting memories. The reaction he’d get from such a sudden unexpected arrival, would either be exaggeratingly bad, or.. perhaps.. she’d be very happy to see him again.

Carrots, Mice, and Emeralds

..
He shook those thoughts out of his head quite literally, and grasped the golden handle of the door to find it completely open.

“Oh!” Rarity seemed genuinely pleased about Spike's arrival. A small bit of warmth crept up into his heart, lighting it up like a steady soon to be flame. And he was almost greedy to have more.
“Nice to see you, Spike.” She said, feigning surprise and giddiness. Looking, even for a second, away from her sewing machine. Spike smiled politely and walked further into the familiar boutique that’s changed ever so slightly in appearance. All that was missing was the persnickety white Persian cat that'd make Rarity's thoughtful work much harder for her by kneading the fabrics intently. Spike recalled Rarity referring to it as “biscuiting”. And really, that cat was a handful, and never seemed to like Spike at all. He shook the soon to be sorrowful thought away and focused on Rarity. He didn’t really know what to say. Would she be saddened that his arrival wasn’t to help her with the chaotic amount of stress induced orders? Surely she would be, and he didn’t want that, not really.

“I, uh,” he began, scratching the back of his head while smiling stupidly. He cursed himself in dragon tongue for still being so nervous around her, though mostly for another reason. Rarity raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. He had a feeling it was staged. “I was just..” he started again, when she didn’t speak but instead turned her attention back almost entirely to her work. And in between stitches, she flicked her hair in the way that would’ve, many months earlier, sent him swooning, stifling all kinds of flames from his snout, the heat rising in his cheeks, and quickly needing to excuse himself outside for a breath while the others talked amongst themselves happily, unaware of his crush. This time, it wasn’t the case. Twilight was right, she was working on some project of importance, as she had three empty cups of coffee on the desk, and ten mannequins if he counted correctly, standing about with all kinds of chaotic imaginative floral designs covering them from tail to ear. He tried not to let the array of scattered gems, specifically the ones he had been craving for weeks due to a shortage at the castle - scattered and crushed emeralds, tempt him. And so many gems, he thought, and so many that were discarded for another. Gorgeous and bright, a shine like no other. Of course this could just be his hunger speaking, but my were they pretty. Even the prettiest one in the room. Rarity was just about the same pony as she ever was, but with a grey streak in her hair that she dyed herself. Spike used to think of it as beautiful and sweet how she took pride in her ageing even if it didn’t come naturally, but now he only saw it as another show of vanity. Silly silly vanity. Spike wondered about while his mind wondered to other places, bumping into the rear of a certain perplexed pony.

“Oh, I hadn’t seen you there, dear!” She said, ending the sentence with an extra amount of forced excitement. “How’s Twilight?” She asked, running over to look through her throughs of ribbon.

“She’s.. busy..” Spike said, trying his best to sound cordial, at least if not very friendly.

“Ah, ever the Princess she is, yes?” Rarity buzzed, making another round across the room to dig through rows of fabrics of brightly colour coded colours.

“Yeah.” Spike said, forcing himself not to roll his eyes.

Rarity cleared her throat after some time. “Oh, Sweetie Belle is right down there.” She said, pointing a hoof towards the long hallway, decorated in portraits of a filly Belle and many more of Opalescence, sneering.

Spike realised she had spoken to Twilight recently if she knew what and who he was here for, he decided not to dwell on that thought, and walked wearily down the hallway. He hadn’t been down here ever, now that he thought about it. It never really seemed of any importance, this long winded path, seeing as most of the buzz of excitement and display was in the main room - Which was easily the largest in the entire building.

It seemed daunting, like the hallway was getting longer and longer the slower he walked along it, and the shadows that covered the walls were following him with each step, seemingly always five hoof steps ahead of him. He quickened his pace, clenching his fists, and taking deep breaths. He looked to his right and saw a door, then to his left and another, and as he kept walking along the darkening hallway, there were more. Why were there so many doors?!

And suddenly he heard tapping, and knocking, a constant buzzing noise paired with the darkness that even his slitted eyes couldn’t brighten. His head was dizzy, was everything shaking? Then he saw a door at the very very end, and who knows what would be beyond that room!!

While his over-active imagination worked on poking at his nerves, as he got closer, the door swung open with such force he took a large jump backwards and fell onto his rump, bag hardly kept in place. He took a shakey look towards the figure before him, large and menacing, dark and glowing, it had the eyes of a fierce cat, bright and green. He closed his eyes tight and held them that way with his claws, surely that would give him ample protection of whatever was looking to swallow him up. The shadow people of Mordia in one of Starlight's many stories? The dark seething figures that are never physically seen in Zecora's filly-clan tales?

The hoof steps neared. “TWILIGHT!!” Spike yelled, his shaking growing more and more. Beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and dripping down his cheeks.

“..Spike..?” Came a meek yet pleasantly deep voice. It didn’t sound like the booming confidence of a dragon eating spirit that resides in one of the many doors of Rarity's home/boutique at all! He opened one eye, only then realising that his claw covered it so perfectly he *still* only saw darkness, he then daringly took a few fingers away from his view, to see a white mare barely lighting the vicinity with her glowing green magic. Spike sighed with relief, getting off of his butt and onto his clawed feet once more, yet was overcome with a new sense of nervousness (and embarrassment) when his brain finally recognised the mare as Sweetie Belle herself!

And my has she grown..
He thought, taking in her form quickly, before looking down at the ground. “I.. came to see you.. because..” he looked at the filly picture of the cute and small dainty little thing that smiled so authentically in every one of her portraits, no matter how long it took the pony painters to even place down a sketch, let alone finish the entire portrait. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a while.” Spike's voice cracked, which he mentally kicked himself for. Twilight hadn’t exactly given him a script to rehearse.

“Oh..?” The mare spoke. She didn’t look him in the eyes, Spike noticed from his peripheral view. She was possibly more nervous than he was, and certainly more shocked by his presence. Her face turned slightly pink. He didn’t know she could do that. He quickly looked back down. The rug was very nice.

“Uhm.. you can come into my room.” Sweetie Belle squeaked, which was quite the juxtaposition of her deep mare voice against her mannerisms and filly sounds. He nodded and followed her, looking at the back of the hall once more as he stepped into her room.

It was quite dark, and she hadn’t owned any candles in sight, he noticed. It appeared, though he had never been in here, that it stayed mostly the same as when she was a filly. Maybe even including the sight of a clunky looking lopsided cardboard box.

His nose caught scent of chocolate and smiled softly “is that cocoa?” He asked. They don’t get much of the stuff, as it’s tough to import all the way from Kinadia to Equestria, but whenever he did have the sweet lavish treat, he made sure to lick his claws clean long after swallowing it. Perhaps this could be something they could bond over!

“Oh? No..?” Sweetie Belle said, Spike blushed, noticing that he may have been wrong, and had genuinely confused the mare as a result of his bad nose.

“So.. do you want to do anything?” Sweetie Belle asked, standing stiffly.

Spike was stumped for a good few excruciatingly quiet seconds, expecting her to send him on his way, until he remembered that silly little thing Twilight had told him before she left. He nodded his head quickly and took the bulging bag off his back. “Yeah, I got these!” He said with the pride of a lion, taking out jar upon jar of his “board games”. Sweetie Belle curiously leaned in to study the contents of the jars. Many wriggling and squirming insects with a few small rings and a pair of die next to them. She backed up and looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

“These are some of my favourites. Twilight used to love them.” He showed her one jar full of rhinosorous beetles, and she squinted an eye. Spike saw this as giddy interest, so he went on.
“..from Cowhoot to Pony Whispers, to Candy Mare, to Maresteryies.” He lifted a brow, not remembering how corny the names were to fit into pony society. He looked up at Sweetie Belle after placing them all neatly next to one another, options you know?

Sweetie Belle looked even more confused. She studied the jars and the insects in them, squinting her eyes, studying the other, and squinting again. She did that about four more times, until her eyes rested on Spike for the first time since she had invited him into her room.

Silence ensued.

“You don’t like them..” Spike finally spoke nervously, rubbing the back of his scales with one claw. He laughed, not a genuine one, but one of pure and utter embarrassment. How could he be so foolish as to choose his favourites, and not something neutral, or better yet, something Sweetie Belle would like. Stag beetles perhaps, they play a great game of tossing.

There was more silence and at this point he was sure she’d send him on his way. He started lifting each jar to put them back into the sack. Mentally preparing an apology and a “see ya soon?” speech. But a trembling green glow took them out promptly and placed them back neatly next to the others, rattling the insects inside. Spike looked at her nervously.

She opened her mouth to speak. “No, it .. it’s just that..”

“I heard you liked games, I’m sorry Sweetie Belle.” Spike said hanging his head low. He felt like a fool, for coming here, for the choice of games, for even bothering her in the first place. Man he really wished he’d feigned sickness at the castle again.

He heard a breath, and then came a series of giggles, then laughs. Spike's ears stood pointed, he looked vexed. He didn’t know what was so funny about this at all.

“Oh Spike!” Sweetie Belle said in between laughs. “I.. no.. I’m not laughing at you.. no..” She stopped immediately, taking in full scope of the situation noticing his ears tight against the back of his head and his brows furrowed.

She took one small step forward. “It’s just that.. I like a specific type of games..” she squeaked out, all confidence lost as she looked at the ground and drew circles with a hoof.

“Oh?” He didn’t quite know what that meant, but he inched closer anyway. “Well, heh, now I feel a bit silly..” To this, Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but smile, not the nervous ones she was known to do so often around him, but a genuine smile.

Spike thought to push the interaction one step further. “Imagine the freak out Fluttershy would have if she knew I got these little guys from the ponyville botany garden”

SweetieBelle laughed. Not knowing any better, she unscrewed the jars clumsily and emptied the insects out the nearby window. They both held onto the edge and watched them scurry away in all directions. A bird swooped down and quickly put one of the beetles into its mouth.

Spike didn’t want to tell her that these specific insects were an important part of Twilight's research into curing the common pony sneezle.

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The Night Goes On

When all went quiet, and the fear of spending the night just like this, in weird strange silence tugged at his mind, he happened to notice something about her. Something he hadn’t payed much attention to lately. Sweetie Belle was very well not a girl. Not anymore, at least. Perhaps her mannerisms could, to the common pony be seen (and even scoffed at) as very girlish. Spike wondered how Rarity thought of the squeaks and giggles that emitted from behind Sweetie Belle's hoof. She was probably proud to have such a giggling lady at her side.

Though, she was large, overwhelmingly so, and full all over, unlike her older sister who was thin and pointed. Yet she had a soft face, and her mane always curled the same way without one hair out of place. Her eyes took the familiar shape of the Flanks family. Sharp and slanted - that the vibrant colour of emeralds. And she had the same smile that had allured young fillies as a filly herself. He wondered why he never took notice of these features before - especially her height. He did always think, when young himself, that Sweetie Belle and the others were very young, and thus treated them as such. But it was undeniably hard to ignore her marehood now.

The quiet soon subdued as a slight and janky cough came mighty forcibly out of the young mare's mouth. Spike was all ears.

“Soooo..” she sing songed. “I was wondering if you’d wanna play a game I’ve been liking recently,”

This was quite humorous to the dragon, as before he could even open his mouth to speak, she got up and sauntered to the large carded box and fiddled with it, as if definitely expecting him to say yes and only yes. So he did, “sure” he replied simply.

“Do you really?” She turned around. Something was telling him that it was meant more as an attempt at a joke, but came out a bit clumsily. Sweetie Belle batted her eyelashes, no doubt a habit she got from her older sister.

“Yeah, I mean sure! Could be fun,” he spoke, a slight smile creeping onto his snout. “And actually, I’ve never played on one of these magic.. thingys before.” He pointed with an index finger to the slightly damp cardboard that glowed a steady green.

A box- no, a cutout box to form some sort of alleged square. It buzzed with action yet nothing was happening at all. And if you would’ve come across such a thing out in an alleyway, you wouldn’t have known it was the basis for creating illusions via magic if not for the light noises of ting ring ting. Spike was interested to understand further how it worked. He studied the box, but Sweetie Belle blocked off most of it from view as she grunted noisily with the apparent contraption. And then there were a few squeaks, and this time it didn’t come from the meek mare herself.

Spike could only assume the box was a lot more than what it was. “I’d love to learn about how this works,” he said, pointing a finger towards the cutout part. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Must be very advanced magic if it contains games inside of itself!” His mind started thinking up how it would be if Sweetie Belle were an esteemed engineer. Creating new and unique ways for displaying magic.

Sweetie Belle laughed nervously. “It’s not magic, silly! It’s ..” she fumbled for the words. “Technology!” She said proudly, as if practicing the word over and over in her mouth until she got it just right.

Spike smirked. “Whatever it is, it looks cool. Let’s give it a go!” He tried his best to be cheery, despite the small checks every few silences or so at the horizon. It was getting awfully late.

Sweetie Belle just hummed around the magic- er, technological box until it suddenly buzzed, playing a simple melody in place of its former soft ringing that Spike wasn’t so keen on. He wasn’t sure if the delightful tone was coming from the mare herself, or the box's inherent magic. But the more he looked at the it, the more he was sure it was just a slightly fancy show of illusion being contained in a cardboard box. When she moved slightly to the side and levitated a few dice in her mouth, Spike got to see the full thing. It definitely was cardboard, and more confusingly, with two playful mice messily wrestling with each other inside the cutout. So that’s where the squeaks came from! He thought.

“Oh, let me turn the channel,” she said, looking over her shoulders at Spike, who, quite frankly, didn’t know what to say.

“Come on you guys, do what you did when Flutters came over,” she whispered. “And wear these..”

Spike felt as if he wasn’t supposed to hear any of that, and hummed as he looked around the room. There was a small table stand next to her bed with a framed photo of Rarity smiling softly - it was so easy for her.

He was knocked out of his thoughts by the slight rough shove of a firm hoof. It wasn’t that it was aggressive, but he hadn’t expected to be touched by her at all. “Okay, they’re ready-“ she said meekly. “I.. I mean, the game is ready.”

Suddenly Spike didn’t feel so silly about his rhinoceros beetles anymore. This was much similar, just with mice, and the usage of illusionary magic, and for some reason dice. He nodded his head, and sat a bit aways from her, as to not make her uncomfortable.

“So.. how do you play this game?” The mice were sitting properly, dressed in wooden gear and each holding a small wooden sword to match. The glowing, he found out, was creating a mirage of backgrounds of forested woodlands. It appeared to be of what young ponies would play with one another. It flickered and dimmed occasionally, but otherwise was quite brilliant.

“Well we’re at the title screen.” She pointed with one hoof so confidently to the mice who tried their hardest to sit as still as possible. Their eyes twitching with the want to chase after something more exciting. “So what’s your username going to be?”

“My what? It’s Spike.”

“No, not your name name, something you go by in games, you know?“

“Uhm..” he looked around the room. His eyes rested on the framed photo of Rarity once more, and he felt the irritation rise inside of him. He shook his head and turned towards the glowing display. “What’s yours?”

“..Songbird..” SweetieBelle whispered, but just enough for Spike to hear.

“Well, I guess mine will have to be FlameKing!”

And as it turns out, the name was taken, so he had to go with FlameKing2, naturally.

The game, as Sweetie Belle happily called it, buzzed into action, and the forests stretched out further, reaching the end of the box. And then the mice did the most funniest thing. They confusedly bumped into one another then got into formation. In which one mouse, (which SweetieBelle said is Spike's “character”) was near an illusionary tree, and the other, bearing blue clothing instead of the wonky wood that Spike's was, sat atop a large structure.

“Okay!! Oh! Wait, why is everything blue?”
And suddenly before he could roll the dice and then yell out a few commands to his mouse, as he so stressfully had to learn, it ran towards another part of the mirage, and everything was a deep blue, and flickered wildly.

“You’re underwater now! You must’ve been far too late to yell out your commands,” Sweetie Belle said, and Spike could of sworn he heard a snicker in between those handful of words. He looked back at his mouse.

“Can I breathe under water?”

“Oh! There areee potions for that, but..” she stopped chopping the tree her mouse was busy playing out. “We’ll have to advance further to get that far, uhm. If you don’t mind staying here a little longer.”

Spike slouched back and found his mouse running quickly back to his starting point. Perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that Sweetie Belle seemed to be doing a whole lot better, and the mirages changed depending on wether she advanced or not. She suddenly bellowed, a strong powerful straining laugh, and her eyes brightened. “I found a great place to mine! Come with me!!” She yelled, the two mice jumping back slightly, but remaining in moderate control with promise of corn kernels on their minds. She smiled, and laughed once more, Spike had never heard her laugh like this. She’d usually laugh slightly, daintily as much as she possibly tried, but never something so strong, confident, and joyful.

“This is how it’s supposed to work!” She finished. Spike looked towards the open door of the room, and was suddenly flooded with fear that Rarity would be upset at how loud they’re being - especially considering how busy and stressed she looked, he was urged to go and check on her. Maybe make another round of coffee. She was definitely planning on staying up past sleep to get a few orders done before morning.

“Could you kind of, keep it down? Rarity seems really busy.” His eyes looked away from the door, and at the mare sitting next to him. Spike saw something in SweetieBelle's bright green eyes, a flicker of that of a flame, almost. Glaring and menacing. There was more to that awkwardly sweet exterior she only showed around him and stallions she wasn’t sure of.

“My room is far from the main room of the boutique. It’s fine.” She said firmly, and for some reason, Spike felt like listening to that logic without question. He simply nodded in agreement, and rolled the dice once more. That didn’t stop the long and lengthy silence that occurred.

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The Game Goes On

Eventually, they got into a steady stream of banter. The nervousness of the situation was replaced by a bit of awkward jokes here and there, and many smiles. It had been hours since Spike had nervously arrived at Rarity's boutique, and hours since he had sat down to play a game that was essentially a cardboard box and Sweetie Belle's struggling mirage upkeep with two of the smallest but smartest mice he had ever seen. And not once since then, had he looked towards the window to keep track of the ticking time. It hadn’t even occurred to him that, besides the glow of the box, they were mostly in the dark. It didn’t matter at the moment, as he had gotten heavily (probably to the detriment of Twilight when they meet up next) into the game with a deep interest. He was confident he could find a way around Sweetie Belle's self winning tactics. Though slowly, and slightly irritably, that came with any game right?

“But I just don’t get why the skeleton stallions keep shooting at me! He whined.

“It’s not just you! You just don’t have the proper armour! And a crazy big love for carrots, that could help,” she said proudly, having an inventory (though it was never seen) full of carrots, even hinting at the existence of a golden carrot too. She told him that eating them was important, and scolded him harshly when he dared to think of eating one of the plentiful pigs that resided near his small dirt hut. She had never seen one outside of her illusionary games, but she was sure that they wouldn’t appreciate being eaten.

But what Spike was more concerned about was not the carrots, nor offending the pigs, but upping his defence, he didn’t know it was possible to advance more than he had. “Armour?” He was beginning to realise there was more to this filly's game than he thought. He then set the dice bit down and got onto his feet, touching Sweetie Belle's shoulders lightly as he looked into her eyes for the first time, really focusing. “What’s the best way to climb up the ranks in order to achieve the best armour out there??”

Sweetie Belle blushed profusely, and turned away. Then she started giggling. Spike finally felt his claws on her soft shoulders and quickly let go, sitting besides her again, red in the face, and claws now gripping the dice again.

“Here, follow me,” she said softly, eyes turned to the game again. Her mouse walked towards the mirage of a cave.

Spike then, not even having adjusted to his environments, fell into one of the classic blunders, meeting a large darkened tall figure. The mouse squeaked at the mirage. It made him drop everything as its eyes glowed a dangerous omitting red. “WHO IS THAT?” He said, scooting further away from the magic box.

Sweetie Belle let out another of her rare loud roaring laughs. His shoulders slacked back, and he let himself rest on his arms. Relaxed.

Her laugh ended with a snicker, familiar to him as they’ve known one another cordially as kids. Then followed by a small snort. “Come on Spike! Be the hero we know you are!”

His heart warmed. He was certain she hadn’t meant for it to hold such merit. But he cradled those few words and held it dear to him, instantly his tail started to flick in a steady comfortable rhythm.

Though this may be risky, he thought to take advantage of the situation. “You know,” he began. “your eyes are kiiind of like those emeralds we saw in the neighbouring village.”

Sweetie Belle's laugh soon turned immensely gigglish and girly once more, much to Spike's dismay. She touched him on the shoulder slightly, gently, carefully, as if she was scared of her own strength. “Oh be quiet.. your eyes are the same colour you know.”

Spike snickered. “Sure. But yours are definitely brighter.” He made a motion as to portray how bright it was with his fingers alone. “It’s really like someone put emeralds into your eyes in exchange for a few carrots.”

“I’d hope not!!” She laughed. “that'd hurt”

Spike scoffed. “They’re pretty.” He finalised. Sweetie Belle sat quietly. Her eyes not looking at anything in particular anymore, and the mice sat still, except for a few ear scratches and squeaks here and there. They were doing a really good job, he’d have to thank them afterwards, and maybe give them extra bits of corn when all was well and done. And.. is that the smell of chocolate?

And suddenly, knocking him straight out of his thoughts, there was the sound of damage being taken, a slight ringing noise Spike learnt to despise, which Sweetie Belle would create with her own horn, and the spark of colourful Equestrian words popped onto the screen loud and proud as if to mock him heartily: “FlameKing2 tried to swim in lava”. Spike cursed in his dragon language. Sweetie Belle laughed. That same authentic laugh he heard minutes before, but more controlled, yet still boisterous and booming. It hurt Spike's ears, but he didn’t mind it this time actually. And he didn’t look towards the door either. Not one bit.

The night had ended with Spike levelling up to a much more battle efficient armour, as Sweetie Belle had fallen asleep an hour ago, listening to the dragon talk about how he’d make it up the mountains they’ve seen in the first mirage, and she’d at first speak about how impossible it would be at his level, and teased him, and laughed, and he smiled, and told her he’d make it no matter how long it takes. Then her teasing was less and less, and she’d only nod with a small smile on her face. Then there were only “mhms” and “yeahs”. And now, there were only the soft snores of a tired young mare and the sleepy squeaks of a tired small mouse who long ago threw off his blue armour in favour of a cloth he had found underneath her bed for warmth.

Spike went on, with one definite goal in mind: to show Sweetie Belle that he had traversed the mountains, and made it his own, built a homestead with no more dirt walls, and a garden full of carrots, a hoard of emeralds in one corner, and stacked chests full of all kinds of golden goods, in another. Soon though, the mirage flickered very gently until the light got duller, slighter, and as Spike sleepily strained to see more clearly by scooting closer.. it went out all together.

And the only light left in the room, was Luna's moon shining lustrously through the window and onto the cardboard box, where his iron armoured mouse, finally slacked to sleep next to the other, and the vision of a small chocolate muffin carefully hidden underneath Sweetie Belle's bed. Lazily hidden, and then lazily forgotten. Spike's mouth upturned into a small smile. A sleepy, tired smile.

And he looked towards the window for the first time in hours, but this time, for a different reason.