Purple Scales and Princesses
Purple Scales and Princesses
A snowy white unicorn and a small purple dragon wandered through the wilderness outside of Ponyville, the dragon towing a wagon behind him. The sky overhead was a steely, overcast grey, and the day was turning chilly fast. Luckily, Rarity never went anywhere without accessories; she had a pale pink wool scarf wound around her neck. Spike couldn’t stop admiring how lovely it looked on her.
“Thank you so much for helping me find gems, Spike,” she said. She cast her detection spell and located a rather large pocket of diamonds.
“No problem, Rarity.” He dug into the earth with his claws and came up with the jewels in his mouth, then dropped them into the ever-increasing load in the wagon. “Always glad to help.”
“I’m just glad you had time to help, with all Twilight expects of you.”
“Actually, she’s been laying off me a lot lately,” Spike said. And it was true: since her coronation, he had had less and less to do. With royal servants now at her beck and call, he had more free time than he knew what to do with.
Rarity smiled. “Well, that’s all for the better, I suppose. I simply love having my Spikey-Wikey around.”
Spike blushed at the mention of his nickname. “I like being around you, too,” he said sheepishly.
Rarity chuckled and bowed her head to find more gems. She had to admit that this activity was a lot more enjoyable without the menace of the Diamond Dogs. It was therapeutic in a way, allowing her to forget the worries of her boutique’s business and focus solely on her special talent.
“A-ha!” she exclaimed as she found a hefty ruby, and Spike subsequently exhumed it.
As he was placing it in the wagon, they heard a sudden clap of thunder.
“Oh dear,” Rarity said, “I suppose we’ve done enough for today. Spike, there’s an umbrella saddle in my bag. Would you be so kind as to get it out and assemble it for me?”
Spike did as he was told. “There you go.”
As he said this, the first drops of rain began to fall. Rarity looked up at the sky and frowned. “Would you like to ride on my back, Spike? It simply wouldn’t do to have you get all wet.”
“Um, sure,” Spike responded. His head swam with the thought of being so close to his beloved as he clambered into the saddle. He stuck one arm out of the umbrella’s protection in order to pull the wagon. The other, he wrapped loosely around her neck to steady himself, noticing as he did so how soft her fur was.
“Ready?” Rarity asked after a moment.
“Yep.”
The two then set off for Carousel Boutique.
After about fifteen minutes, they were nearing the outskirts of town. They found themselves within sight of Fluttershy’s cottage, and could hear, in addition to the sound of rain falling, the babbling flow of the small stream that ran in front of the abode.
These noises, Spike found somewhat calming. His ear caught a third noise, however, that made him feel disconcerted, if only because he couldn’t figure out what it was. It started low, just barely discernible, but it was growing in volume rapidly.
“Do you hear that, Rarity?” he asked, voicing his concern.
“Hear what, Spike? The rain?”
“No, not the rain. Listen,” he said.
She did and she heard it, too. It was a steady drumming sound, quite unlike the light tap-tap of the raindrops. This was a heavy thud, and it seemed to be constantly getting louder and closer. If her ears weren’t deceiving her, it also seemed to be coming from behind them. She turned her head.
Rarity saw the source of the sound, but had no time to react to it. It was a stallion pulling an empty cart, running at full gallop to escape the rain. He barrelled past them, and before they knew it, Spike and Rarity were covered in cold, muddy water, courtesy of the spray from his wheels.
“So much for the umbrella,” Spike said dryly.
“Oh, no!” Rarity shouted. “I just had a bath, too. Whatever shall we do now?”
“Calm down, Rarity.” Spike gently stroked her mane, which was now matted to her head. “I’m sure Fluttershy will let us wash up at her house.”
“Excellent idea, Spikey!” she said jubilantly.
They walked the short distance to the cottage and knocked. Seconds later, the yellow pegasus opened the door.
“Hello?” she said timidly.
“Fluttershy, dear,” Rarity said, “I was just wondering if we could trouble you to use your bathtub. We just had a messy encounter with a most inconsiderate stallion.”
“Certainly.” Fluttershy stepped aside and allowed them entry.
Once inside, Rarity said, “I think I shall go first,” and disappeared upstairs.
Spike watched her until she was out of sight, then turned to Fluttershy. “So, what have you been up to?”
“Oh, nothing special. Just taking care of my animal friends.”
Spike nodded and remained silent for a few seconds, then said, “Can I ask you something?”
Fluttershy nodded.
“How did you feel when Twilight became a princess?”
He was met with a bemused look.
“Like, were you sad, happy, angry, excited, or what?” he elaborated.
“Well,” Fluttershy said, “to be honest, I was a bit scared at first, because Twilight had so many new royal duties. I thought she wouldn’t have time for her friends anymore. But now, she comes and visits us all the time, and she’s becoming a really good leader, so I guess I’m happy for her. Why do you ask?”
Spike sighed. “Just wondering.”
A few minutes later, Rarity came back down, her mane simply brushed out straight due to Fluttershy’s dearth of styling supplies, and Spike went up to take his bath. After he was finished, they both thanked Fluttershy and left.
They made it to Carousel Boutique without further incident. Rarity walked inside, removed her umbrella saddle, and had Spike take the gem wagon into her workroom. After doing this, he came back into the main chamber.
“Hey, Rarity,” he said, “if Twilight says it’s okay, do you think I could stay here tonight?”
“Of course, dear; that would be splendid.”
Spike found a quill, ink, and paper and wrote a short message to Twilight asking her for permission. Then he sent it off with his fire, which Twilight had enchanted after her coronation so that he could send letters to herself, in addition to Celestia.
After about thirty seconds, the reply came. It was simple, consisting of only two words: That’s fine.
Spike read the letter three times, then threw it in the trash. “Well, you’re stuck with me,” he said flatly.
Rarity grinned. “Perfect. Now if you could be a dear and make us some tea?”
Of course, Spike could never refuse her; and besides, he felt good to know that somepony still needed him. He walked into the kitchen and located the kettle. He filled it with water and put it on the stove to boil.
As he waited for the the water to heat up, he couldn’t help thinking about Twilight’s response. Those two words, while prolonging his time with the most beautiful creature he knew, had stung him. They felt so dismissive. Had he posed the same question to Twilight just two months ago, before all this princess business, the outcome would have been very different. He could see in his mind her probably multiple-page answer, detailing all the reasons he had to come back to the library that night, all the chores that were waiting for him. A wistful smile appeared on his face as tears began to cloud his vision. Yes, he would have thought her itemized denial of his request overbearing, but it was a lot better than the apathetic acquiescence he had actually gotten.
The whistling kettle broke this melancholy string of thoughts. Spike used his finger to flick a single salty drop away from his cheek, and prepared the tea. He carried the tray with the teapot, two cups and saucers back into the room with Rarity.
She thanked him and poured the tea. Spike was grateful that she didn’t notice he’d been crying.
After tea, Rarity announced that she felt inspired to work on some new dress designs. Spike followed her into her workroom and offered his services as a living pincushion.
It was Rarity’s method to carefully consider every last detail of a new design, which consequently meant Spike had lots of quiet moments for his thoughts to drift. He tried to control them, forcing himself to take inventory of every facet of Rarity’s beauty, but it was in vain. He couldn’t keep Twilight out of his mind, and therefore couldn’t keep the water out of his eyes.
Rarity noticed immediately. “Whatever is the matter, Spike?” she cried. “Are the pins hurting you?”
Spike shook his head. “No. It’s-it’s nothing.”
“Obviously, it is not nothing, Spike. Would you please tell me what’s bothering you?”
He remained silent.
“Spike,” Rarity said, raising her voice slightly, “you are really beginning to scare me. Now, I would be most appreciative if you would tell me what made you cry.”
He sighed and said a single word. “Twilight.”
“How has Twilight made you cry?”
“Because she doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Why would you say such a thing, Spikey?”
“Because it’s true.”
“It most certainly is not.”
“Yes it is,” Spike said. “She doesn’t even ask me to help her anymore.”
“But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
“She doesn’t even need me, though. She’s got all these servants that help her do everything now, and she never asks me for anything.”
“But should this not be a welcome change?” said Rarity. “Are you not glad to have more time to yourself?”
“I thought I would be,” Spike replied, “but I just keep wishing I could get Twilight a book, or make her some hot cocoa. Anything to get her to pay attention to me again.”
Rarity looked at him sympathetically. “Spike, I can assure you that Twilight loves you as much as she ever did.”
“How would you know?”
“Because you and Twilight are my very best friends. I’ve known you two long enough to see the strength of the bond you share. Just because she has taken on some new duties, does not change the fact that she is, essentially, your big sister. She still has just as much love for you as I have for Sweetie Belle, or Applejack for Apple Bloom.”
Spike’s face began to brighten a little. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so, Spikey-Wikey.”
After this, Spike’s mood improved considerably. He helped Rarity happily for the rest of the day, and went to bed that night thankful for his amazing sister and friends.
