Title: The Wyverns and the Metalsmith
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: G for most of it, with the ending at R+ (het, linked offsite)
Summary: Wyverns are the most dangerous enemy a little pony can face; what will happen when they both need the same gems?
_
No pony starts out their life deciding that they're going to be one of the outliers, one of the strange little ponies who wondrous things happen to. No pony wakes up one morning and says, "I want to be abnormal!"
No pony ever makes it a plan to come nose-to-nose with a dragon, either, but that was where Filigree found herself on that fateful autumn day. His breath was too hot, and smelled faintly of cinders, like a fireplace that had just burnt itself out. And, of course, the fact that he could eat her up in one bite didn't escape her notice, either.
But we are getting ahead of ourselves.
"Hey! Bellows! C'mon, gimme more heat, I can't get this ring soldered if it's cold!"
"Holy cinders, Filly, hold yer hooves, I'm workin' on it!"
Filigree was not born in the middle of a field face-to-face with a dragonic being, in fact, she was born in a perfectly normal household in Ponyville. Filigree's parents hadn't wanted anything out of the normal for their daughter; they'd just wanted her to be happy and healthy. Which, as with almost all ponies, she was. Unfortunately, 'happy and healthy' don't always translate to 'normal,' which Filigree certainly wasn't. She'd seemed perfectly normal as a tiny filly, of course, but although most young ponies outgrew their childhood chubbiness, Filigree simply ... didn't.
Plump ponies weren't particularly abnormal in Equestrian society, and so when it became apparent that their daughter would never be a bounding gazelle-shaped pony, her parents simply bought her the trappings which she would soon come to enjoy - fancy bedding, long overstuffed chaises on which to drape herself, some sparkly things to drape around her neck, and a few feather boas for good measure. But before they could buy the outrageously-tiny dog that would soon become her noisiest fashion accessory, they made a horrifying discovery.
Their daughter liked to play in mud puddles.
"It's not a mud puddle, Mom!" Teenaged Filigree whinnied, stamping one muddy hoof against her mother's once-pristine cherrywood flooring, ignoring her mother's pained wince. "It's a gem excavation site! How am I supposed to harvest the gems for metalworking if I don't go looking for them myself?"
Yes, not only was their daughter a bit of a Clydesdale in a Shetland world, but she loved playing in the mud, too. Or rather, loved finding shiny things in said mud. Although her parents couldn't understand this strange impulse to play with both fire and mud, their daughter finally convinced them that she would only be happy following this path, and so they eventually found a suitable blacksmith to apprentice her to.
Which was how she ended up as a young mare, in the prime of her life, fighting with a dying flame in the center of a steamy, overly-warm room. Although the smithy was still technically in Ponyville, it was on the furthest edge of the town and away from the other houses, both to avoid any mishaps and to be closer to the quarry where they mined most of their materials.
"Have you got that gol-darned ring soldered YET Filly?" Bellows barked, working his namesake with all of his might. He was a pretty hefty pony, dwarfing even the plump Filigree with his bulk. While the unwise observer might assume he was simply overly fond of apple tarts, the stallion had actually held onto a great deal of his muscle, even when his muzzle began to go grey. Although he hadn't originally wanted to take on Filigree as his apprentice, the young mare's dedication had warmed his gruff old heart - although he would never tell her so.
"Just - one more - there!" Filigree cried, drawing back from the fire, her ring clamped triumphantly in her tongs. After a quick dip in a bucket of water, she retrieved the ring, looking it over intently, her flushed grin slowly dimming. "Schist and granite, this just doesn't look right."
Bellows trotted over, letting the fire burn low as he examined the ring. It was a commission from one of the young mares of the town; soon to be wedded, she wanted to have an appropriate ring that incorporated both her and her mate's colors. "Well, there's the sizing. You've got a big pink stone here, but the blue isn't big enough to compensate. It just looks -"
"Unbalanced." Filigree sighed, wiping her damp brow with the back of one hoof. "I see what you mean. But we're all out of blue stones that would be the right size."
"Well then, looks like someone's got to get a trip down to the quarry planned." Bellows grinned, turning to return to his own work, shaking out his shaggy mane. "I need a couple more green stones, while you're at it - our supply's running a little low, and you know how this time of year makes Rarity crave green."
Filigree chuckled, shaking her head, and turned to pull an empty set of saddlebags over her hips. "Got it. I should be back before dark, but don't wait up for me." She called back to him, tucking a pickaxe into her belt.
"Do I ever?" Bellows rumbled to himself, returning to his duties as Filigree trotted out the front door. For all that he tried not to care, he knew he'd go out looking for her if she didn't show up; that didn't mean he couldn't deny it to himself, though.
-
Filigree trotted down to the quarry, her bobbed tail swishing behind her. Bellows didn't let her keep it as long as she liked, the old grouch, but she supposed that he had a good reason for it. Still, her luxurious mane and tail had been one of her favorite features; as an insecure young pony, she'd basically hidden behind it, taking delight in it when her body shape didn't quite live up to expectations. In his own way, Bellows had helped her find confidence in her shape - no mere twig of a pony would be able to work at the smithy, after all, with so many heavy things to be carried and held.
Hence, Filigree's steps were light and joyful as she trotted down to the quarry, closer to her doom. The quarry was one of her favorite places in Ponyville, so quiet and beautiful in its own way, barren of any greenery but lush with shining treasures just waiting to be freed.
The young mare set to work, her mane tied back with a woven strap, although a few strands worked themselves free as she labored. Although she'd gained some muscle mass after becoming apprenticed to Bellows, she would never become quite as muscular as him, much to her dismay. Still, she had enough power to be able to swing the pickaxe with suitable strength, freeing a myriad of multicolored gems. Although she only needed the blues and greens, she pocketed the others anyway, not wanting to waste any of her effort. Unlike Bellows, after all, she didn't have the spare muscles to just pop down here whenever she felt like it. Finally, damp with sweat, she turned away from the rock face, her saddlebags heavy with glittering gemstone bounty.
There, right in front of her, was Death. No, not some cloaked pony with a scythe, a walking skeleton beckoning to her, none of those silly fantastical things. This was REAL death, staring her down with razor-sharp fangs and slitted cat-like eyes that seemed to be sizing her up.
This isn't how I wanted to die, Filigree thought helplessly, her heart racing in her ears, her hooves seemingly locked to the dusty ground of the quarry. Here, surrounded by earth on all sides, no other pony would hear her cries for help: then again, it didn't matter much if they heard her or not. They'd never make it in time. She was going to die alone, without anyone to even remember her, except her parents and Bellows. There was so much of life she hadn't experienced, so many things she hadn't yet had a chance to solder.
I'm not going to die just like that, you big scaly monster, she thought to herself, working up her nerve even as the dragon's hot breath rolled over her, reminding her all too sharply of the smithy she would probably never see again. I'm gonna give you a run for your money. One last piece of my mind before you gulp me down!
Unfortunately, no one is quite as nervy as they imagine in their own head, so even as Filigree worked up the nerve to bellow at the dragon, her breath left her, leaving her with only a helpless, panicked squeak. "D-D-Dr-Dragon!"
"WYVERN, ACTUALLY."
What. The. Schist. Was the dragon - wyvern ... talking to her? Why wasn't she eaten yet? The dr- wyvern hadn't eaten her yet, hadn't opened his pony-sized mouth to snatch her up for a tasty little snack. He had to be as big as a house, and yet he wasn't eating her? Maybe wyverns liked talking to their food before they ate it? Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction!
"You - you might as well eat me now, you - big stupid dragon!" Filigree choked out through her panic, chest rising rapidly as she gasped for breath, every inch of her trembling with terror and rage. "I'll - I'll kick you in the gizzard!"
But the wyvern only tilted his head, eyeing her all the more intently almost as if he were curious - were he not so hungry, Filigree was certain. When he spoke again, he spoke with the same, rumbling voice that seemed to come from somewhere deep within, rolling through her ears like thunder. "I AM NOT GOING TO EAT YOU."
"And another th- what? Not going to - why?" Filigree frowned up at him, her heart still pounding fit to burst. This was so surreal, she was almost beginning to wonder if she was dying now, and this was the part where she got whisked away to spend the rest of eternity with the goddess in the Elysian Fields.
"I DO NOT EAT OTHER BEINGS SHARING MY SENTIENCE. IT IS A PERSONAL CHOICE." He almost seemed to - shrug? Goddess above, could dragons - wyverns - shrug? "I DID NOT MEAN TO FRIGHTEN YOU."
"Didn't mean to - then what in Equestria were you DOING?" She whinnied, her voice gaining some strength, although panic still sharpened its edge.
"I WANTED TO SEE WHAT YOU WERE DOING. I DID NOT KNOW PONIES ATE GEMSTONES AS WYVERNS DO." He rumbled, peering back at her saddlebags, almost hungrily. "THEY LOOK VERY DELICIOUS."
"I - I don't eat gemstones! These are for my jewelery-making." Filigree protested, glancing back at her saddlebags, thankfully still in place and undamaged. "Dr - Wyverns eat gems?" She asked, a hint of curiosity replacing her panic. He hadn't eaten her yet, maybe he was telling the truth, a little.
"YES. THEY ARE ONE OF OUR PRIMARY SOURCES OF SUSTENANCE." He growled, his voice seeming to roll in his throat, although it didn't sound very angry, to Filigree's ears. "GEMS ARE FILLED WITH NUTRITION. YOU ARE CERTAIN YOU WILL NOT EAT THEM?"
"N-No, ponies can't digest gemstones. I think. I've never really tried."
"A PITY. THEY ARE REALLY QUITE DELICIOUS." He exhaled what she supposed was a sigh, abruptly surrounding her in eddies of his cinder-smelling breath. It could have smelled a lot worse, she reasoned; he kind of smelled like the smithy, actually. Abruptly, she turned her eyes skyward, remembering her errand. The sky was already darkening; if she wasn't back before dark, Bellows would have her head.
"I have to go." She said suddenly, and when she looked back down at the wyvern, he almost looked - disappointed? But that was silly, she chastised herself. You didn't attribute feelings to a manticore, or any other killer monster. Then again, manticores had never been known to talk to their prey, either. This was one tricky wyvern.
"VERY WELL. FAREWELL, LITTLE PONY." The wyvern rumbled, turning his attention towards the seam she had been picking at, bringing one of his winged arms forward to begin clawing at it.
"Filigree."
The wyvern turned to face her, almost as surprised as Filigree was. Granite, why had she said that? She swallowed tightly, edging backwards, until the deep, rolling-like-thunder voice answered her.
"M... My name's Filigree." She murmured, uncharacteristically quiet.
"MY NAME IS SAVAGE." He rumbled back to her, his slitted cat's eyes focusing on her for a moment, large and unblinking. "IT WAS NICE TO MEET YOU, FILIGREE."
"You ... you too, Savage." Filigree swallowed, and met his glance for only a moment longer before she turned tail, beginning to gallop back up the incline, making her way out of the quarry. Once she was out, she turned back to look down at the wyvern, now busily scraping gemstones out of the rock. She'd almost thought he wouldn't be there, but sure as Celestia, there he was, as real as anything.
She didn't have the time to think about this right now. So she turned tail, taking off at a gallop towards town. She would take more time to think of this, but later, when she was safe in her bed and no monsters could find her.
-
"Filly. Oi. Filly. Filly. FILLY!"
Filigree jumped to attention, her legs banging against the underside of her worktable where she currently sat.
"Goddess, Filly, y'been sittin' there for a full minute now, just starin' at that gem. You pick up a cursed one or sommat?" Bellows chuckled, trotting over to her on his dish-sized hooves, looking at the blue gem resting on the dusty work table. "Yer eyes crossed now? Or maybe your tail curled up and tell off?"
"Have you ever heard of a wyvern?"
"A ... a what now?" Bellows asked, his jocular tone abruptly gone.
"A wyvern. It's like a dragon. They don't have -"
"Forelegs, I know. Don't become a blacksmith without hearin' a bit about the bad times." Bellows said gruffly, turning away from her, back to his fire.
Filigree turned on her bench, staring after his soot-smudged hide. "Bad times?"
"Back when we ponies had to fight the dragons for our mines. They eat gems and metals, y'know." He growled, and Filly was pretty sure it wasn't just because of the heat on his face. "Wasn't a day we didn't go down there that we didn't fear findin' o' there gapin' maws gnawing away at our dig. My da lost a couple friends to dragons. Grandda lost a hind leg, trying to outrun one."
Filigree swallowed tightly, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched her master working on a long piece of metal, sharpening it into a pole arm for Her Majesty's royal fleet of fliers. Bellows made the lightest, strongest spears; everyone knew that. Abruptly, she wondered if pole arms would even be of any use to someone fighting dragons. Savage was huge, it didn't seem like such a small weapon would do much damage to him at all. Abruptly, she realized that she'd gone quiet, so she managed a soft, "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' you didn't expect, goin' into this kinda job. So what're you so curious 'bout wyverns for, anyhow? Readin' one of your fairytale books?" He teased her gently, eyes sparkling when they turned back to look at her over his shoulder, his face lit by the burning metal under his hooves.
"Oh - yeah. Just, y'know, storybooks and the like, heh heh." She managed a soft chuckle, abruptly pulling away from the bench, slinging her rock-gathering saddlebags around her middle. "None of these stones seem to be working, I'm gonna try to grab a few more."
"Grab a few - be careful though, it's getting late!" He called, turning in time to catch the sight of her tail disappearing around the door as it closed. "Fillies these days. Back in MY day, you worked with the stones you got." He grumbled to himself good-naturedly, hammering away at his spear all the more fiercely.
-
Filigree sat there for almost fifteen minutes, her body laid flat on the edge of the quarry, staring down into the large open pit. If she was going to see the wyvern again, she wanted to have a head-up on it, to have the advantage of surprise. Just in case it changed its mind about eating her, or something. And besides, she wanted to know what it did when she wasn't around.
As she approached the thirty minute mark, she finally gave up, settling back onto her knees. She happened to glance sideways as she straightened up, and promptly landed on her side again, a screech dying on her lips.
"SORRY. DID NOT MEAN TO FRIGHTEN YOU."
"What- you're - what're you DOING?" Filigree whinnied, her legs kicking a little as she slid onto her back. The wyvern didn't seem to mind her predicament, and simply arched his neck so that he could meet her gaze squarely, watching her as she flopped.
"I WONDERED WHAT WAS SO INTERESTING IN THE PIT. WHAT ARE WE WATCHING?"
Filigree glanced down at the quarry, her chest still rising a little quickly for her liking, and finally rolled herself onto her hooves. "I wasn't - nothing. I was just checking to see if you were down there."
The wyvern tilted its head slightly, slitted pupils vanishing behind a transparent third eyelid as it - he - blinked curiously at her. "MYSELF?"
"Yeah! Well. I mean. Wyverns eat ponies." She whickered, a little defensively, as she shook her coat out. "Drat it, now I'm all dusty. What I - yeek!" For at that exact moment, Savage had lifted his head over her, his neck arched, and exhaled a hot, cinder-scented breath over her. The hot deluge cleaned her coat of all of the dust, although it also had the unfortunate effect of tangling her mane and tail.
"BETTER?"
"Much, thanks." Filigree nodded, beginning to work on her tail, trying to brush it flat again.
"SOME WYVERNS EAT PONIES, YES. OR USED TO, WHEN WE SHARED LANDS." The wyvern spoke, watching her as she smoothed herself. "MANY FELT THEY HAD NO CHOICE. IF WYVERNS DO NOT HAVE GEMS TO EAT, THEY MUST FIND ALTERNATE SOURCES OF NUTRITION. GEMSTONES ARE VERY NUTRITIOUS; WYVERNS CAN SURVIVE ON THEM ALONE, IF THERE ARE ENOUGH DEPOSITS NEARBY."
Filigree glanced sidelong at Savage, and he must have read her glance fairly well, for he didn't even wait for her to speak again before answering.
"I WOULD NOT EAT A PONY, EVEN IF I WAS HUNGRY. I DO NOT EAT BEINGS POSSESSING INTELLIGENCE."
"Well, that's nice to hear." Filigree allowed, glancing up at him for a moment before she began trotting down the dirt ramp leading into the dig. "You're a good digger, right?"
"CORRECT."
"Would y'mind helping me get some gems? I should get home before too long, but I can't show up empty-hooved, either." She asked as politely as she could manage, pulling her pickaxe out with her teeth.
"OF COURSE." And before Filigree could even throw her first blow to the rock face, Savage was working, his mighty wing-claws ripping a handsome-sized pile of gems in the first few strokes. The second and third brought even more - too many for her saddlebags to even carry.
"Stop, stop! That's enough, you can stop now!" Filigree whinnied, staring down at the pile, a little wide-eyed.
"WHY? THERE ARE BARELY ENOUGH HERE FOR A DECENT MOUTHFUL."
"I'm - I'm not eating them, though, just taking them home to use for my smithing." Filigree couldn't keep her eyes away from the pile for very long, managing to tear her eyes away from them long enough to look up at Savage. "Thank you, very much." She murmured, bending to begin scooping the choicest ones into her bags.
"YOU WILL BE BACK TOMORROW?"
"Well, these gems oughta hold me for - why?" Filigree asked abruptly, looking up at him.
"I HAVE NEVER SPOKEN TO A PONY BEFORE. IT IS VERY PLEASANT."
"Well, I ... I've never spoken to a wyvern before. It's very pleasant - too." Filigree offered, swallowing a little when the wyvern arched his neck, as if pleased. He kind of looked like a cat, a little, with his slitted eyes half-lidded like that. "I could come by tomorrow if - if you want me to."
"WOULD LIKE IT, IF YOU ARE NOT OTHERWISE ENGAGED."
"Sure. That'd be ... that'd be fine." Filigree managed a little smile up at him as she straightened up, buckling the now-heavy saddlebags around her hips. "I'll see you then."
-
Indeed, she did see him then. And the next day, and the day after that, as well. In fact, she saw him so often that they became regular quarry buddies, and Bellows found himself hard-pressed to keep her at the smithy for very long every day. At first he'd tried to disallow her from making so many outside trips, but when he saw the quantity and quality of the stones she brought back, he simply let her go. She'd run out of energy eventually, he reasoned; she was a bit of a plump pony.
And so the days passed into weeks, and what had started out suspicious soon became familiar and friendly, with the two sharing more and more of their lives with one another. Savage got to hear about Filigree's fillyhood trials and adventures, while Filly got to hear about the herd of dragons that Savage led. Apparently, his 'herd' (he didn't use the word originally, but herd seemed to make more sense to Filly, so they went with that) was made up of other wyverns who followed Savage around, quite obediently. This made little sense to Filly; what kind of leader would go around conversing with average ponies in a dirt hole all day? Princess Celestia certainly wouldn't. But perhaps wyverns had different kinds of leaders than ponies did. After all, Savage didn't command an entire nation of wyverns, just a few.
At the end of one chilly day, as Filigree trotted back up the dirt ramp, she happened to glance back to wave farewell - and froze.
"What're you doing, Sav?" She called, ears flicking back against her head as she glanced down at the wyvern, now curled in one corner of the quarry, nose to tail. "Are you okay?"
"SETTLING DOWN FOR THE NIGHT, FILLY."
"Settling down - but it's only twilight!" She protested, eyes darkening in concern. "What if someone came here?"
"ONLY YOU COME HERE, MOSTLY. IT IS ALREADY COLD. I CANNOT FLY VERY FAR, I NEED TO CONSERVE MY HEAT."
"Your heat?" She asked, and glanced away, back towards her town. She had barely realized it; winter was coming, but with her heavier winter coat coming in, she barely felt anything. But Savage must have been feeling it for some time; he had no coat at all, only his sleek scales. "But - won't you freeze down there? Outside, all night?"
"I SLEEP OUTSIDE EVERY NIGHT. MY HERD WILL BE HERE SOON, WE WILL KEEP ONE ANOTHER WARM."
Filigree glanced back from Savage to the town, back and forth, warring with her better self. There was no room. She would be banned - fired - banished from town, if she did this. But she couldn't leave Savage here to freeze, in a pit on the edge of town.
Finally, Filigree made up her mind. "C'mon. Get out of there."
"PARDON?"
"You said you can make yourself smaller, right? If you can get small enough, you can fit in through the doorway of the smithy. My room's right above the main forge, it's really warm." She said quickly, glancing around as if Bellows might appear out of nowhere to chew her out. "But we have to get there fast. If I'm not back before it's too dark, Bellows'll come looking and we'll all be done for. Can you meet me - at the back of the smithy, twenty minutes after sundown?"
The wyvern stared up at her, as if considering this, and finally nodded, his slitted gaze locked on her. "I UNDERSTAND. I WILL SEE YOU THERE."
"Right. Okay. I'll see you soon." And then she was off, galloping down the dirt path back to town, her heart pounding in her ears. This is a stupid idea, one part of her insisted, a part that sounded suspiciously like her parents. But she soon drowned out the neighsayers in her head with the sound of her hooves pounding against the packed dirt, listening to the song whispering through her bones.
-
Bellows had been suspicious, but he'd been suspicious for the last couple of weeks, and it had never come to anything. So he'd eventually gone up to bed, flicking the last of the lights out about ten minutes after nightfall. At nineteen minutes after nightfall, Filigree slipped out of bed, listening carefully at Bellows' bedroom door before rushing downstairs, throwing the back door open as silently as she could.
Which was good, because she wasn't sure how she managed to keep herself quiet at the myriad of eyes that blinked back at her. "Th-This is your herd? I thought you meant like - ten other wyverns!"
"USED TO BE TEN. ARE THIRTY STRONG NOW, INCLUDING YOUNGLINGS." He rumbled proudly, nosing some of the smaller dragonets ahead of him, waiting for the last of the smaller wyverns to file in before following them. He had shrunk himself down to their size now, although he was still taller than the tallest pony Filigree knew. But he fit, at least, and the rest of his family seemed to fit too. They fit so well, in fact, that they were curling up around the largest forge, nestling up against its dying heat.
"Is it warm enough?" Filigree murmured, glancing up at Savage. All right; even though there were a whole ton of them, she couldn't deny that it was kind of awesome seeing Bellows' smithy filled up with wyverns.
"COULD BE WARMER. DO NOT WANT TO PUT YOU OUT. IS ALREADY MUCH WARMER THAN OUTSIDE."
"Nah, it's okay. I mean - if you don't mind helping with the kindling tomorrow, maybe. It's kind of a hassle to get more, is all."
"YOU HAVE MY WORD." He rumbled as softly as he could, lowering his head to her as she began to work, tossing more logs onto the forge, building up the fire again. "WE OWE YOU A GREAT SERVICE, MISS FILIGREE."
"It's - it's nothing, really." She flushed abruptly, her entire body seeming to flush with warmth. "Just didn't want you guys freezing. But you have to be out of here by morning, okay? Or Bellows'll blow a gasket."
"OF COURSE. SLEEP WELL." He nodded to her with his long, elegant neck, then turned back to his herd, curling himself around the farthest edge of where the wyverns slept, keeping them warm.
"You too, Savage. And, uh, wyverns." She called softly, waiting just a moment until turning, trotting back up to her room and out of sight. Well, that hadn't gone too badly, had it?
-
"Filly."
"Mrphargle. Five more minutes."
"Filigree, this ain't any kind 'o situation to be sleepin' through. Y'gotta get up."
"Bellows, it's still dark out, c'moooon."
"There's dragons in the smithy."
Filigree, who had been trying to hide her head under her pillow, was yanked to awakeness almost as violently as if she'd been doused in cold water. "What?"
"Dragons, lassie. Didn't think they'd come this far south, after the wars 'n all, but one hears rumors." Bellows whispered to her, and as Filigree's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she took in the three axes he had hooked to his belt, and the daggers on his forelegs. Somehow, it didn't surprise her that he kept this much weaponry in his bedroom. Hell, all of this had probably come from under his pillow alone.
"Bellows, you - you can't - "
"C'mon, lassie, I got ye an axe too. Just gotta swing at the neck, it's not one of their better armored spots. Cleave it off in one powerful swoop, or else they'll latch onto ya, and -"
"You can't kill Savage's herd."
"- they do this head-shaking - What." And now his eyes had landed on hers sharply, zoning in on her as if she were a particularly choice emerald for his sword hilt. "What did you say, Filly? You best be choosing your words wisely, I'm not in the most forgiving of moods right now."
"I - I know them. I know the dragons, okay? They're wyverns. They're not - they don't eat ponies. They're not bad."
"Not ba- lassie, have you been sparkled mad or somethin'? Been lickin' the gem glue? What're you TALKIN' about, they're not bad. If they're not bad, then what ARE they?"
"They're my friends!" She burst out, a little louder than she intended, and dropped her voice back to a whisper, her voice intent and pleading. "They're my friends, okay? You have to believe me, they won't hurt us. All the time I've been at the quarry - I've been with Savage. He's nice. He's smart, he's - he's not like other dragons, he doesn't eat ponies or anything. You have to trust me on this."
"Trust you on - they're bleedin' DRAGONS, lass!"
"And I'm your bleedin' apprentice!" Filigree insisted, rising on her bed slightly, squaring her shoulders. "I'm not a fool, you've told me that yourself. I wouldn't go putting this smithy at risk for anything, especially not monsters who might eat us. Savage's their leader, he wouldn't let them do anything bad if I told him not to. They were going to freeze, and I - I just didn't feel right letting them be cold." She said intently, eyes flashing, before she tried to quiet her voice once more. "Look, I know you're nervous. I was nervous too, when I first met him. But he's had tons of opportunity to eat me before now, and he hasn't. I think he's a good wyvern."
Bellows looked at her, inwardly debating, then turned away with a rumbled grunt, walking to her window. He stared out at the darkened street for a hoofful of minutes, lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rumbling in his powerful chest. "It's only cuz I know yer such a good kid that I'm not runnin' down there right now, understand." He growled, his eyes still locked on the street below, the dawn's first weak rays beginning to light it. "I don't like the idea of dragons in my smithy, any dragons. But ... if you know this guy, if you're vouching for him, then I guess he can't be all bad. Takes a special kind of guy to grab your attention."
Filigree flushed hotly, her ears snapping flat against her head. "I - what - he's not - he's not a GUY, he's a WYVERN. Big difference."
"Well he's still male, ain't he?" Bellows asked coyly, glancing back to her over one muscular shoulder.
"He's - he's still a - who said I had anything against guys?"
"No one. You either turn tail when they show up or growl at 'em from the back of the smithy, is all." He chuckled as he turned back towards her bedroom door, his weaponry clanking gently as he moved. "Guess I'll go get ready. Yer friends'll be outta here by morning, right? Gotta get the fires stoked."
"Yes, of course. Sure thing. Thank you, Bellows." She called, slowly rising from her bed, absently reaching for her brush. It was almost time to get up anyhow, might as well greet the morning in a properly-coiffed fashion.
But as Bellows pulled the door open, a rather unwelcome visage greeted his, one that made him reach instinctively for his axe. Savage's pupils thinned when he sighted the axe, but he held obediently still, glancing back to where Filigree stood, watching the two with something akin to panic on her face.
"Bellows, you - this is Savage. He's my friend. Savage, this is Bellows, my blacksmithing master." She said as evenly as she could, eyes glued to Bellows.
Savage blinked once at the heavy pony in the doorway, then lowered his head slightly, as if in a bow. "IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET ONE OF FILIGREE'S FRIENDS. I HAVE HEARD MANY TALES OF YOUR SKILL IN THE FORGE."
Bellows' brows rose a little at that, and he finally gave a little chuckle, shaking his head. "Let's hope those were all the good stories, dragon. I gotta get going, need to stoke those fires up again. Nice ta meetcha too." He offered, almost as an afterthought, although Filigree heard the begrudging politeness in his voice. This was just about as friendly as Bellows was going to get, unfortunately.
"THERE MIGHT BE A PROBLEM. THERE SEEMS TO BE A MOB AT YOUR DOOR."
"A - a mob?"
-
Sure enough, crowded around the front of the smithy door was a group of ponies. Not a mob, precisely, and although they looked very ... focused, they didn't look particularly angry.
"Ain't those the girls from the bakery?" Bellows rumbled, leaning over Filigree's shoulder, trying to get a better look at them from her bedroom window. "Blinkie Pie, or somethin'. Flattershy?"
"No, I thought it was Shutterfly." Filigree murmured, squinting down at the group. "What do THEY want?"
"AM NOT CERTAIN, BUT THEY SEEM TO BE BLOCKING OUR EXIT. WE CANNOT ESCAPE WITHOUT BEING SEEN." Savage rumbled from where his neck arched gracefully over the two ponies, peering down into the street.
"Helloooooooooooo! Miss Filigreeeee!" Came the high-pitched call, accented by a sharp knock on the front door. "We're here to throw you a partyyyyyyyyyy!"
"A - why the hell would they throw me a party?" Filigree frowned down at them, whispering as if the sextet of ponies could hear from the street.
"Don't ask me, ponies never throw me parties anymore." Bellows whuffed through his nose, blinking down at them. "Suppose that'll be a problem if they see the dragons, though."
"We'll put them all up in my room." Filigree hissed, her eyes wide as they glanced to Bellows'.
"Good luck with that, Filly. Not that big up here." Bellows whuffed, glancing around her cramped room. It had been a storage room before he'd taken an apprentice; hardly the kind of space one could fit a flock of wyverns into.
"Then we'll - we'll - hide them in the back?"
"Don't think the neighbors will mind a flock of wyverns back there, will ya?" Bellows asked dourly, his expression only getting more and more grim as Filly's got more and more annoyed. Finally, she pulled away from the pair, fairly stomping their way downstairs and across the wooden floor of the smithy. Once she reached the front (where the ponies still knocked, quite intent on their goal), she wrenched the door open, ears flat as she faced the group of six.
"Hi! My name's Pinkie Pie, and this is Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle -"
"I'm not so concerned WHO you are but WHAT you are doing here, at sunrise no less!"
"- Rarity, Applejack and Spike, and we're here to throw you a SURPRISE PARTYYYYYYYY!" Squealed the pink pony, leaping into the air as if she were made of helium. "Are you ready for your -"
"Who the schist is ever ready for a surprise party? And besides, I have guests over!" She snapped, her anger rising to the surface as her tail lashed. "Dragon company! Yeah! A whole flock of wyverns! So if you got a problem with that, you can take it up with ME, got it?" She whinnied darkly, barely resisting the urge to paw at the ground rebelliously.
The group of ponies glanced from one to the other, quite confused, before their smallest member pushed his way forward. "Wyverns? I wanna see, I wanna see!"
"You ... what?" Filigree asked weakly, staring down at the tiny ... dragon. Dragon? Since when did Ponyville have dragons? Behind her, she could feel a dozen small heads trying to push past, to get a better look at the small dragon in front of them.
Although she did her best to make way, eventually a head snaked between her forelegs, lifting her up out of the mob as they crowded around the door. With a cry, she wrapped her legs around the long neck, realizing only as she slid down onto his shoulders that it was Savage who had lifted her to safety. "Thanks, Savage." She sighed, holding onto him as he dipped his long neck in turn, greeting the small dragon with a cheek-nudge.
"OF COURSE, FILIGREE. YOU HAVE PROTECTED MY HERD AND RETURNED MY SON TO ME; I OWE YOU A GREAT DEBT."
"Nah, I didn't really - wait, what?" Filigree asked abruptly, eyes widening to saucers as Savage lifted the small dragon into his webbed wing-arms, gathering him close to his chest.
"Daddy!" Chirped Spike, snuggling up against the much-larger wyvern.
"HELLO LITTLE ONE. I HAVE MISSED YOU." The older dragon almost seemed to croon, and Filigree felt his purr rumbling against her belly more than she heard it in her ears. She certainly hadn't seen THAT one coming.
"New friends? This sounds like the perfect situation for a PARTYYYY!" The pink pony squealed, streamers and balloons seeming to appear from seemingly nowhere behind her.
As Filigree slid onto the floor, leaving Savage to aid his son and his friends in setting up for said surprise/welcome to Ponyville/welcome home party, she scanned the room for Bellows, trotting over to where he sat at the foot of the stairs. "It, uh, looks like your smithy is being overrun by partiers."
"Ehh, it could be overrun by worse things, I figure." He shrugged, leaning slightly to make room for her on the step beside him. "Better'n rampaging dragons. You think if we keep 'em here over the winter, they could help keep the fires burnin'? Could save time, having dragon-fire to smelt with."
Filigree didn't bother to hide the little smile that tugged at her lips as she nodded, smoothing a stray bit of mane behind one ear. "Sure sounds like that could work out mighty well, Bellows. They're good diggers, too. Dug up all those gems for me."
"They did, huh? Might have to see if they'd be willing to stay on as part-time diggers, then." Bellows allowed, a little softer, still trying to wrap his mind around the idea of dragons as friends, instead of enemies. "Might be nice."
"Might be very nice." Filigree agreed with a wide smile, catching Savage's eye. Very nice, indeed.
(This is the end of the fic, if you would like to read the more explicit epilogue, please do so here: .#cutid1 )