...

Heart of Scales

Turn 2: Doubt

The train slowly came to a halt. The familiar scenes of Canterlot station were visible outside the window. The train ride itself wasn't long, although being alone with Rarity was enough to make it feel that way. Spike watched the work ponies unload Rarity's luggage. He felt that it should've been he carried her luggage, but given the quantity and his size, that wouldn't have been possible for him unless he made multiple trips, unpacking the contents and moving smaller loads separately to wherever their hotel was.

Rarity and Spike caught a carriage to the hotel they were going to be staying in. All expenses were paid for, and Rarity had requested two rooms, one for Spike and another for herself. He lay on his bed, enjoying the large area that he had all to himself. He almost didn't know what to do with all the extra space. The bed was so much bigger than his basket at home. Spike had the smallest flicker of hope that out of some divine miracle she was going to forget to book separate rooms, forcing them to share one if not invite him to stay in the same room as her. However, this was at the same time, very expected. Spike was just fine with her decision. It was enough that their rooms were right next to each other. Spike was satisfied.

He couldn't help feeling that it would be so much better if he had someone else to fill all this extra bed space. Looking past the emotional longing for another somepony, he sat up and looked around. The edges of the bed felt as large and far away as the ends of the world. He literally felt the need to have at least somepony here in case he gets lost in the bed sheets.

"Hey Spike!" called a pony Spike hadn't seen in a long time.

Standing at the door was Spike's old friend, Brandon. He was one of the bellhops for the hotel. He was carrying Spike's bags. He was an earth pony with an average build, grey coat and white mane, wearing his red work uniform.

"I thought the name on the tag was familiar," he laughed, setting a lone briefcase down on the floor. "How the hay did you get in here? Did you win the lottery?"

"Sort of," Spike said, getting off the bed to get familiar with his old friend. They were in the same class when they were in assistant training before Ponyville.

"I'm here on personal assistant duty."

"Still an assistant I see. What a surprise, I thought you'd finally gotten rich enough to ditch that job," Brandon said. "Where's that purple pony you're assistant to? What's-her-name Sparkle?"

"Twilight Sparkle," Spike corrected.

"She's awfully generous. You even get your own room. Prices here are a nightmare. I would have put you under 'pet' and saved a fortune."

"Very funny... Twilight isn't here. I'm personally assisting another pony."

"And who would that be?"

"Rarity, you know, the pony next door," Spike pointed at the wall over his shoulder with his thumb.

"So you're with her!" Brandon exclaimed, placing a hoof atop his hat. "Boy let me tell ya, she's practically moving in here. Old Ted almost threw out his back carrying all her stuff. She's not one of those snobbish ponies is she? You know what they say; the richer they are, the more bits that weigh down on ya as they ride ya all the way to the bank."

"She's from Ponyville too, so don't expect her to be as rich as you think," Spike shook his head. "But she's rich where it counts, her heart."

Brandon laughed, "I'll take your word for it, although I find it hard to tell anypony apart at this point. So what business do you have in Canterlot Spike? Or should I say, what business does this Rarity have that require your personal assisting?"

"The Canterlot Fashion Show. I'm sure you've heard of it."

"Why yes I have."

"Rarity's dresses are going to be on display there. Twilight thought it would be great if I came along to help. I hear the workload is going to be a handful. Don't underestimate Rarity. She's doing way more work than I am."

"Well, good luck. I'll be at the front desk if ya need me. Call if ya want to hang out. We have little parties, with just the bellhops and janitors every once in awhile. You're very much invited."

"I'll see if I have time and try to make it if I can," Spike said smugly, eyes closed.

"We would be honored, Mr. Spike," Brandon said with sarcasm as he left the room.

By the time Spike had gotten used to staying in the hotel room he had become strangely fascinated by the bathroom which out of all things was the best equipped for its own experience. It had bottles upon bottles of liquids and shower heads in different sizes, shapes, and features that shaped the water when turned on. Brushes, waxes, feather sprays and gels for Pegasus wings. Files and polish for unicorn horns, and there was definitely much to go around as to not let the earth ponies feel left out. There was a dial to regulate humidity and temperature. The toilet itself was most likely from the future, ancient runes carved into the porcelain for the old world feel and the rug most of all was pleasure to the soles, the soft feeling even penetrating between Spikes clawed toes which ponies with hooves can only imagine. Even being equipped with a magical night light.

Instead of the bedroom itself, Spike decided that he was going to sleep here nuzzling comfortably in the laundry basket in the corner which made for a heavenly sleeping environment. He was all the more happier to find an ice cooler under the tiles with an assortment of drinks. There was an intercom which Spike could use to call room service so he could have his meals delivered exactly where he wanted it, the bathroom. But for a moment, he considered his bellboy friends and decided not to overindulge his welcome. He thought of how other ponies probably abused this feature. He was sure that Brandon and the other work ponies probably had a few negative experiences to tell stories about.

The bathroom was most importantly equipped with a magical clock which rang according to the promises and plans the guest makes. Spike hadn't come to Canterlot to enjoy the hotel bathrooms. In due time, it inevitably rang. Spike had promised Rarity to meet in front of the hotel that evening to get settled into their designing studio far off from there. The studio was where they were going to be working for the next few days. Spike waited anxiously beside the palm trees that lined the entrance of the hotel, eyes darting around at every pony that passed. A lot of ponies in Canterlot were white in coat color, but Spike knew immediately that Rarity was not among them. Eventually a horse drawn carriage pulled up in front of him. The door opened and Rarity beckoned him inside. Spike quickly jumped on and they were off down the street.

"Good evening Spike." Rarity scooted over to allow Spike some room to sit. "It hasn't been very long since we got settled in the hotel but I do hope you're ready to get working."

"Sure I am, can I ask where you were?" Spike asked, ignoring the flashy scenery of nighttime Canterlot, his focus solely on Rarity.

"I was window shopping. Well, not exactly shopping. I was just looking around, to see if I can come up with any ideas in the meantime."

"Can you tell me a little about the studio?"

"I've been told that most of the work space is going to be private. Fabrics and materials are provided so there was no need to go hunting for anything."

"Whatever it is, I'm ready. Are you?"

"Of course I am. I did everything there was to do before setting hoof in the studio." Rarity patted her large saddle bag containing rolled up sketches of her dresses. "I'm just dying to see these on the dress forms."

As they stopped in front of the building that was most likely the studio, Rarity stopped for a moment to take in the surroundings before entering. Spike was right at her side. It was here that they were going to decide if Rarity was going to make it or not at the fashion show. With a determined look in her eyes Rarity trotted through the entrance, checked in at the front desk, received the keys, and proceeded down the long hallway into her personal studio. Her nameplate was on the door right above the studio number. Spike turned on the lights, bringing into view a white spacious area, similar to Rarity's own workspace except wider and depending on the point of view, organized. Dressforms, ten in total, the number of dresses Rarity was to make for her fashion line, were lined up perfectly in a row. The sewing machine was gleamed in the light as Rarity examined it, nodding in approval. This was the ideal workplace. It was missing the "home" feeling of her own studio in the Boutique, but the state of the "art" instruments were enough to compensate for that lacking element.

"Yes, this will do." Rarity gave a firm nod.

"Where's all the stuff?" Spike looked around for the materials.

Rarity set the bag of design sketches on the counter and began unrolling them one by one as they spun around her, floating by means of Rarity's magic.

"The materials are stored in another room. We will have to seek them out ourselves and choose the fabrics we want to use for our dresses." Rarity said magicking her glasses on her snout.

She chose one and sent it over to Spike with magic.

"How about we start with this one?"

Spike looked over the sketch, which was much more than just a drawing of a dress. Complicated scribbles and words were etched all around, listing many instructions, notes, and other bits of information Rarity had jotted down around the sketch. Within these jangle of words were the materials that she was planning to use for each part of the dress. This was nothing like Spike had seen Rarity draw on the train. It had undergone an almost complete transformation.

"It may be a bit confusing." Rarity retracted the sketch and rolled it back up. "No worries. I'll pick out the fabrics. All you have to do is carry them."

In the fabric storage room, Spike had already begun to analyze the near cryptic codes on the sheet. He stood behind Rarity as she unrolled the fabric stored in cubbies spanning entire walls. It was like the Canterlot library of fabrics. Spike wasn't surprised to see that Rarity had no trouble finding the exact fabrics she wanted according to serial numbers. She unshelved and replaced rolls high up and far away with magic, comparing fabrics, rubbing them with her hoof and some cases with her snout. Even the smell was important when it comes to deciding fabric. Spike carefully watched and took mental notes. Understanding little by little, learning the fabrics and words written on Rarity's sketch paper. There was no other motivation for his newfound mental superpower.

There were no other ponies in the fabric storage room that evening. Now that Spike thought about it, they were the only designers that were using the studio. He didn't ask. He knew why. He didn't know what the other designers were doing at the moment, but he saw fire in Rarity's eyes, the drive to prove herself was visible even behind all the rolls Spike was holding in his arms. They were the first here. Rarity was the first to get to work. She wanted the prize, she wanted it badly. Spike shared her determination, he was ready to go to Tartarus and back if it meant winning at the fashion show.

They did not speak with each other, merely communicating with nods or the objects they were handing to each other. They worked hard into the late night. The silence in the studio was filled with the workings of machinery and the faint noises of late night Canterlot.

That's how it was for the next few days, however confident the two were, the looming pressure of it all never completely left them as they tried to keep their minds completely on their work. They used their meal times to relax and chat casually, adding a few moments of carefreeness that they needed in their schedules. They finished most of their dresses in a few days. Being ahead of schedule, Spike was finally granted a moment of true peace. The same could not be said for Rarity. They ran into other designers in the studio. Designers who were presenting in the fashion show, of course. Work was work, but Rarity had her social status to maintain. She was fairly recognizable within the community. Many were impressed with the progress she had made in her given time and wished her luck with the show. To Spike's relief she was doing just as well fitting in.

"There we go." Rarity fit a ruby onto the second to last dress they had been working on that night. The studio was quiet. Most of the designers had already left.

"One more, Spike."

Spike placed the sizable gem onto her hooves and stood by with another in hand.

"And it is… finished." Rarity's horn finally dimmed down. She shut her eyes for a brief moment to take a deep breath and a few seconds of peace.

"Good work today Spike, good work today. You've done… too much for me already."

Rarity paced around the dress form, examining her new piece. She had told Spike that today's work was finished, but he wasn't able to drop his guard just yet. He wanted to be ready just in case Rarity had something else to put him to.

As she finished a lap around the room, viewing the dress in different angles and lighting, her eyes fell on Spike.

"What are you standing there for?" Rarity smiled, pointing at the gem in Spike's claws. "Aren't you going to eat it?"

"Eat what?"

"The ruby silly."

Spike looked down at the gleaming red ruby. Of course, all the working had completely forced out his appetite. Now that he thought about it, saliva began to accumulate under his tongue.

"Can I really?" Spike modestly stared at the gleaming jewel. "You sure you're not going to need it?"

"I don't see the need. Our last dress does not require the use of rubies to complete. Think of it as a very small token of gratitude for your help today, these past days. You've done an excellent job restraining yourself, despite all the gems I have asked you to handle."

"I can't eat this."

"Spike, when a lady presents you with a gift, it is the gentleman's part to accept it gracefully,"

"I don't mean it that way." Spike held his treasure up to the light. "It would be a waste. I want to keep it."

"There are plenty more you know."

"Yeah, but it's not the same."

"I understand."

"So that's all for today? Are we really finished?" Spike tucked the gem away under his arm.

"Yes, we are done," Rarity nodded. "Spike? Are you feeling alright?"

At hearing the words of closure from Rarity, Spike's body began to shut down. He had a sort of smile on his face, feeling as if he had accomplished something important but wasn't completely sure or understood what it was. This ruby was proof of his worth. The room began spinning around him as he felt gravity overcome his body. He had used too much energy. He tipped backwards and hit the floor, having involuntarily fallen asleep.

Spike woke up the next morning in his hotel room to the sound of his alarm. However, it stopped before he can reach it. Somepony had stopped it for him.

"Good morning Spike!" Brandon stood at Spike bedside. "Sleep well?"

"Oh no, I must have passed out." Spike rubbed his eyes, checking the clock. "Thank goodness I didn't oversleep."

"So what was it last night? That pony, Rarity, carried you here. You been going to a few parties I see."

"We've been working the entire evening, but how did it look? Did she look tired? Was I too heavy?" Spike crawled to the edge of the bed, closer to Brandon.

"I wouldn't know how heavy you were, but she didn't look all that tired. You guys came in way late, but she was in a pretty good mood when she passed the front counter."

"Alright, that's good to know," Spike lay back down on the bed.

"I brought you breakfast, it's on the counter but I see you've gotten it taken care of." Brandon examined the ruby on top of Spike's bedside dresser.

"That's not for eating."

"Where'd you get it?" Brandon asked, fascinated with such a rare and valuable object, although not nearly as valuable as it was to Spike.

"Rarity gave it to me for my hard work. I wouldn't eat if it even if it meant starving to death, so you better bring me that breakfast."

Brandon brought Spike his tray of morning cuisine. Spike was too small to enjoy a breakfast in bed in a "breakfast in bed position". Instead he was to eat a "breakfast on bed".

"That's the best tip I've ever seen." Brandon continued to stare at his multiple reflections on the many faces of the gem.

"Rich folk do give a good amount of bits if they don't have change. Looks like you've hit the jackpot."

"A tip? Well, I wouldn't call it a tip. It's more than that." Spike suddenly doubted the context in what the meaning of the ruby was.

"You think so? When you put it that way, tips do mean food…" Brandon eye's floated upwards in thought.

"Oh, I get it. I see you were going to sell that ruby. Good thinking, this is easily worth more than its weight in meals."

"You're missing the point. Tips are tips, but that was a gift. A gift from somepony very important. She gave it to me."

"You earned it. For working hard."

"Yes I did."

"Then she gave it to you for your efforts. I really don't see the difference. Sure if the word tip didn't exist, the next word to call it would be a monetary gift of some sort."

"It's a personal treasure."

"Now that's a different story that is," Brandon smiled, mischievously.

"Even you can't say you've framed and shelved every bit you've earned from your customers." Spike pointed at Brandon.

"I've come pretty close to that happening," Brandon sighed. "So, is she special?"

"Good bye Brandon," Spike said, sternly shoving a spoon of food into his mouth.

"You have to think though," Brandon turned back when he was at the door. "I've had some beautiful mares tip me single coins that I found hard to part with. Eventually you'll get over that feeling. You can polish it all day long, die of starvation rather than spend it. But at the end of the day, those mares were just clients, those coins were just tips. I'll have to spend them live, and in the end I'm just a bellhop, nothing more. You hear me? Spend that tip; it's what you got to do to live. Don't kill yourself holding on to it."

After the door closed, Spike sat alone in silence, thinking with half chewed food in his mouth that he really didn't feel like swallowing anymore. What exactly was Brandon implying?

"It's simple," the voice whispered.

"What?"

"Does that ruby mean a lot to you?"

"Of course it does. Rarity gave it to me. She said it was a token of her gratitude."

"But what did it mean to her?"

Spike couldn't answer. He didn't know. There were plenty more where it came from and she mean to give it to him as a snack, something to eat. Had he made a fool of himself thinking that it was something worth valuing? There had to be some meaning in it for her too. For all he knew, she could have wanted to give him something much more than a ruby. But…there really wasn't any way to prove it.

"How valuable?" the voice faded into his head once more.

"The ruby?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You."

That night was the last time they were going to be working at the studio. With Rarity's fashion line almost complete, the bare dress forms that had lined the room when they first arrived were now the visual highlight of the studio. Watching Rarity silently work on the dress was calming to Spike. The last dress, the dragon themed dress, the one Rarity had designed based on Spike. One reason for Spike to believe that there was something special between the two. He couldn't be sure, he wanted to know so badly. What did Rarity mean? By bringing him here, giving him the ruby, every complement, smile, and minute she spared for him.

"It's nearly finished." Rarity stood back and examined her piece.

Spike gave his attention to the almost complete dress. It was indeed as if somepony had skinned him and made a dress. The colors were spot on and he had never thought something that looked like him could be so wonderful. The white color of the dressform helped Spike imagine Rarity in the dress. It was a beautiful thought, something that he wished he could appreciate in reality.

"The head piece," Rarity frowned, "the dragon theme was hard to pull off. I couldn't find any materials that'll work on it."

Spike stared hard at the head piece. The shape was beautiful. However the front gave off somewhat of an empty feeling. Something was missing.

"Scales." Spike felt a light go off above his head. "How about we line the head piece with a few scales?"

Rarity gave it some thought.

"That would indeed be marvelous. The only problem is that the accessory room does not supply any dragon scales of the sort we need."

Spike knew that Rarity wanted to finish this dress. Would it be right to say that he wanted to finish this more than she did?

"But we can't let this on the catwalk with an incomplete headpiece." Spike continued to stare intensely, visualizing the complete dress.

"We'll have to find some other way. I can't imagine anything else that'll suit it more than the scales would," Rarity said.

"Use mine."

"What?" Rarity said suddenly. "Don't be silly Spike, how are you going to..."

"Easy," Spike said, feeling around his side for the sizable scales Rarity's headpiece required. He was a long way off from actual shedding, so his scales weren't as loose as Spike would have preferred. He pulled one out.

"Spike? Are you alright?" Rarity asked. "Say something dear."

Spike held the scale up to Rarity, who reluctantly received it. It was a wondrous purple color, exactly what the dress needed. He turned away pretending to be looking for more scales, but was wiping his tears from the sharp stinging sensation from where his freshly picked scale used to be. This was an involuntary reaction. This pain was nothing to Spike. Nothing a dab of ointment wasn't going to solve. He had seen it in her sketches, her vision of the dress. It wasn't going to kill him to sacrifice a few scales to make sure Rarity got what she wanted.

"Don't worry, I've got it," Spike assured, noticing the concern on Rarity's face. He felt around for a few more loose scales.

"You don't have to go that far," Rarity said, sounding worried.

"Please," Spike said, "at least, let me do this."

Rarity did not say anything else, but instead let Spike continue. He made sure not to pick any two scales that were too close to each other so that the surrounding scales would cover the missing spots. After a few more painful picks from his side, tail, and back, Rarity had enough scales to line the front of the head piece, finally completing it. There were sore spots all over his body, but they were soon numbed when he saw the completed head piece and Rarity's gentle smile. Rarity had her own tears brimming in her eyes, but for different reasons than Spike.

"It's finished," Rarity sighed. "We're finally done!"

She took a moment to laugh at her accomplishment. Spike's ears just about detached themselves from the side of his head. If they had, they would have dived right into Rarity's throat and wedged themselves in her vocal chords permanently.

"Does it hurt?" Rarity asked, examining the surface of Spike's scales. However she wasn't able to pick out the missing spots.

"It would be like pulling out a few hairs, I guess. not that I would know." Spike replied. "I'll be alright, I promise."

Rarity moved the finished dress to the end of the file with the other dressforms. The two sat on the couch in front of the dazzling display, appreciating the fruits of their labor.

"Great job Rarity," Spike complimented. "You've outdone yourself this time."

"Twilight was right. I would have never had any time to add those important details if I was rushing through the project," Rarity said. "You've really improved since we started. You've learned how to work the sewing machine almost as fast as I did when I started as a filly. And you have a natural instinct for designing. With that said, I am able to say that I respect you as a designer."

Spike took a deep breath. This is what he came for. For just this moment, let his mind be clear of doubts. What was he thinking? Of course he mattered.

"Spike, I want you to know that we finished this together," Rarity said, planting a wet kiss on Spike's cheek that came out completely out of the blue and caught Spike by surprise. The entire room turned a shade of pink for Spike as he felt a combination of expansion and implosion inside his stomach and chest. His heartbeat sounded like rhythmic thunder in his ears. He sat there for who knows how long. The next thing he knew, he was back in his hotel room, brought back to his senses by the stinging of his missing scales.

Spike smiled sitting in his bathroom, rubbing herbal oils on his sores that he felt would heal in no time.

"It was worth it," he said, feeling that Rarity's kiss was more than what an old tip could ever be.