Twilight and the Spartan Stallion
Part 21: Spartan’s Errands

(Three Days after the Tea Party with Luna)

Big Mac was home, but was still in a neck cast. Though he could move his body now he’d been ordered to strict bedrest for the next few weeks or so. So severe had his injury been, he’d been taken home on a cart and put in his room with cartloads of books, knick knacks and little things to do. This of course had made the poor workhorse half-mad with boredom.

He’d spent ages begging Applejack to give him the farm’s ledgers so he could work with them. His sister had agreed, if only to keep him still and in bed. The result had been a brand new, neat and tidy version of the past fifteen years of anything monetary that had happened on the farm. He’d even hoof-drawn the charts and studiously re-weighed the budget for the next three months. All in all, he’d saved quite a bundle for them and had predictions for the coming fall weeks.

As soon as he thought of fall, however, his heart sank. Big Mac knew that fall was the main harvesting season, and here he was bed-ridden. The feeling of guilt was crushing. Laid up like this he was exactly zero help to his family and community, and that just wasn’t right to him. It wasn’t from lack of trying, mind you. He’d been caught by Applejack a few days ago trying to build a birdhouse. She’d given him such a verbal lashing, he didn’t get supper that night.
Now? He was trying to figure out something else useful to do. His stint with fancy mathematics had lasted him only five days with the farm’s ledgers, and now he was bored again. The stallion’s ears suddenly perked, for someone was knocking firmly on the door. A visitor? He righted himself off the bed, labored carefully down the stairs and finally made it to the door. Working gingerly and careful with his neck, he opened the door. It was Spartan Shield, clad in nothing but his wrappings, accompanied by four or five more stallions he didn’t know. Big Mac would’ve tilted his head, but that involved using his neck so he merely blinked.

“Big Macintosh!” Spartan boomed. “It is true then! I have not maimed thee permanently!” he made to leap forward and embrace the stallion, but quickly remembered himself. “Sorry, forgive me, sorry.” He coughed a little, scratching his head. “Look! I come bearing gifts!” he gestured to the ponies he’d brought with him. “Hoof-picked from the marketplace!” he stopped to introduce each one, all the while Big Mac had no idea what was going on. “When I heard thee not crippled for life, I remembered thou worked a farm as a plow and harvest pony.” Spartan explained. “If you remember, I gave thou all the monies from our wrestling bout,” he paused, turning a little. “But in doing so I paid a debt to society as well. Princess Luna herself declared my labors complete, and gave me my… er…” he struggled for a good word. “Inheritance?” it came out like a question. “She gave it to me as I was leaving Canterlot, so I decided to hire yon muscle.” He gestured again to the ponies that accompanied him. “They shall work the farm in thy place, so that thou may rest and recover free of guilt.” He said, a great smile plastered across his face. Big Mac was silent, sizing up each hired stallion with a critical eye. They did seem big and strong, maybe they could be a good help around the fields? Applejack would work herself to death on her own… “What dost thou think?” Spartan Shield smiled, showing off the group to him again. “May I set them loose upon thy farm?”

“…Eeyup.” Big Mac finally said, smiling.

“Thou heard him, get to work!” Spartan gestured. “Whatever it is that farming entails, go do it!” he was a soldier himself and had zero idea what they would be doing, but they were going to do a lot of it whatever it was. He turned back to Big Mac, smiling and reaching into his fat saddlebag. “Here.” He said, lowering his voice a bit. He drew out a bulging bits purse that jingled at the slightest movement. He set it at Big Mac’s hooves with a rather sheepish look. “I am… sorry.” It took some effort to say, but if Princess Luna could do it so could he. “I got carried away, and thou suffered for it. Then I was a horse’s ass and ran away from my troubles.” He gestured at the purse. “This will pay for the wages of yon muscle.” He nodded towards the gaggle of stallions that were already investigating the barn for tools. “There’s a bit of extra, for thy comfort.”

“Y’all already paid for mah hospital bills, and there was extra left over there too.” Big Mac spoke a rare full sentence, looking down at the bag. “How much is in there?”

“A couple of thousand bits.” Spartan said. “Is that a lot?”

“Eeyup.” Big Mac was a little pale at this. Where could Spartan have possibly gotten so much money? Little did he know that Spartan Shield’s original ancient coins had passed into the hooves of a museum, and a rather fantastic amount of modern money had been given to him in return. What he’d given to Big Mac was just a small fraction.

“Well, I shan’t tarry. Thy eccentric sister may try to maim me if I linger.” He smiled a little warily, looking around for Applejack. Big Mac chuckled a bit, nodding. Spartan Shield turned and was away, cantering down the path back to Ponyville. When he was gone Big Mac struggled to move the great sack of bits without bending his neck to grab it with his teeth. He ended up having to kick it along inside like a hoofball. It jangled loudly, and he was shocked by how heavy it was. When it was in a secure location, the red stallion went back outside to supervise the new help. Finally, something to do that was outside, farm-oriented, and wouldn’t make Applejack swoop down on him and yell. Whew.

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

Rarity flinched HARD and her sewing needle lodged itself in the ceiling when a titanic stallion THRUST her boutique’s door open. It was Twilight’s coltfriend, Spartan Shield. “SEAMSTRESS!” he belted across the room, slamming the door enthusiastically behind him. “I desire thee!” Rarity gaped at him in shock and horror, until he added. “I require thy talents with string and fabric for something special.” He was rapidly crossing the room and peering curiously around. “Still only making dresses…” he tsked with a scowl. “Have you nothing for a stallion?” he looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“Wh--- well I never!” She began to go on the defensive, ears turning back and face turning red.

Spartan saw this and shifted gears. “Thy skilled hooves would surely make an equal masterpiece for a stallion as any mare!” he gestured to a silky white dress with golden trim. “Something like this, but masculine.” He pointed, walking in fast, interested circles around the display. Rarity watched him with mild interest. Wasn’t he just full of energy today?

“What did you need, darling?” Rarity said a little warily. She didn’t have the know-how to measure a stallion’s in-seam, exactly. She’d never made any vests or tuxedos for a stallion.

“Socks.” Spartan said firmly. Rarity’s brow rose a little. “Socks, with which to charm Twilight Sparkle.” He wasn’t even looking at her at the moment, having shoved his head under a dress’ skirts to see the colors on the in seams. The white unicorn watched him prance about, a very flitting and unsure customer indeed.

“You want socks to show off to Twilight?” Rarity said, sensing there was far more to this than he said. Her inner gossip factory was itching to be put to good use. “What for?”

“I have received Her Immortal Shining Majesty’s blessing to woo Twilight Sparkle.” Spartan Shield told her matter-of-factly, staring at a bizarre black dress with flecks of silvery stars on it. His face said he hated that one and he quickly moved on, moving from display to display. Ever the moving-forward soldier, he’d made a circuit around the shop and was starting a second when he spoke again. “Twilight Sparkle wears silken socks to bed every night.” He finally admitted to the pale unicorn.

“Does she?” Rarity said with a wry smile.

“Therefore, I shalt do the same to be endearing.” He nodded at her like it was an obvious and very good plan. “Then, I shalt secure mine place in her heart and Princess Celestia shalt not break my spine.”

“What was that last bit?” Rarity had been half-listening to the stallion’s bizarre plans, worried about their implications. But that last part was gossip gold. “Did the Princess say that to you?”

“Yes, of course. It was before we boarded the train to return from Canterlot, she whispered it to me when Twilight was not looking.” Spartan said, stopping in front of the white-with-gold-trim dress again. “Her protégé is precious to her. She said that if I broke her heart, she would break my spine.” He nodded, leaning back and staring at the dress more closely. “I like this style.” He pointed to the simple, tight-fitting dress. “Make this dress into socks, Seamstress.” He bade her. “Name thy price.”

“Er.” Rarity was a little overwhelmed by all the new information and stories and what the implications held for Twilight Sparkle. “I uhm… yes, of course darling.” She said, feeling frazzled by the stallion tromping around in her shop talking in such a forward manner. She gave him a fair price and he counted it out of a bits purse. “Come back this evening and I’ll have them ready for you. I don’t have any other orders waiting right now.” She confided, chuckling a little.

“Thou should make things for stallions.” He tut-tutted at her, turning his nose up with a haughty chuckle. “Twice the customers, at least! Perhaps more socks?” With that he was gone, thrusting the door open and making the bell ring. When the door shut behind him, Rarity let out a long held breath. She wondered if the Spartan Stallion would ever understand that he’d come in and basically demanded lingerie for himself… and why exactly Twilight Sparkle wore lingerie to bed every night, even before they were dating. Rarity scratched her head, trying not to think about it too hard.

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

Spartan Shield peeked into Sugar Cube corner. It was late afternoon. Past lunch time. The crowd of the mid-afternoon lunch rush was gone. Peering around very, very warily, he approached the counter. Mr. Cake was behind the counter. “Well hey there! Can’t say I’ve seen you in here very much!” he greeted merrily. “You must be that Spartan fellow, huh? Pinkie Pie talks about that party she threw for you sometimes!” he smiled.

Spartan panicked at the mere sound of the party pony’s name. “SHHH! Bring not the Harlequin down upon mine head!” he VAULTED over the counter without warning, putting a powerful arm around Mr. Cake’s neck and shoving a giant hoof in his mouth. “She could be anywhere!” he whispered, peering around. The room seemed safe enough. The strange, reality-bending pink pony seemed nowhere in sight. “Whew…” he said after a time. “I require something tasty.” He told the stallion in confidence.

“Er, well sure thing big fella.” Mr. Cake slid out of his one-armed hug and guided him back around to see the display case. “We have cakes, cupcakes, banana bread, cookies, normal bread loaves--” He went down quite a long list, until Spartan began to get a frustrated look on his face. He didn’t know what half of that stuff was. It was all brilliantly colored with powdered sugar, frostings, and other obnoxious things. He was not shopping for a mindless foal! He growled a little, leaning until he nose pressed against the glass. He looked one way, squeaaaak, went his nose on the display. Then, he looked the other way, squeaaaaak, it went again. “Have you anything meant for seduction?” he asked aloud.
Mr. Cake cocked on eyebrow. “Er, shopping for a marefriend?” he asked good-naturedly, chuckling a little. “That’s something else entirely. Come over here.” He motioned Spartan over to a separate display case. The warrior leaned down with his usual discerning scowl. He saw a bunch of brown squares with white lines of something dribbled a across them. “These here are called Mare’s Delight.”

“What are they?” Spartan asked, suspicious of the strangely-named confection.

“They’re thick fudge, thinly coated with melted milk chocolate, lined with white chocolate, and frozen overnight.” Mr. Cake said expertly. “Since they’re frozen, you can suck on them, rather than just wolf them down in one bite.” Reaching and using a toothpick, the yellow stallion speared one and pulled it out of the display for Spartan to taste. The warrior lifted it to his lips and did so. It was very cold, like an ice cube. But the chocolaty taste enthralled him.

“I shall take a box!” he belted, making Mr. Cake’s mane wave in the wild breeze that was his voice.

“Uh—you got it, big guy!” Mr. Cake thought Spartan Shield talked very oddly, but he wasn’t about to bad-mouth a customer. Mare’s Delight was for a stallion on a mission, and he wasn’t about to make fun of that. Working rapidly, he wrapped up a box of the chilled confections and put them in a little cooler for him to take home. “Just keep them sealed until you’re ready to eat them.” He said, smiling as Spartan paid for them. They were rather expensive, but the occasion was worth it. The warrior put them in his saddlebags, nodded and turned to go.

“Hi Spartan.” He walked past Pinkie Pie as she spoke.

“Hail, Harlequinn.” He said, smiling and his nose up in a regal way as he was on his way out.. Spartan Shield was halfway out the door before he JOLTED and clutched at his chest, nearly having a heart attack. “Plague me NOT, pink one!” he barked at Pinkie Pie, panicking. The pink mare tilted her head at him curiously, smiling in a friendly way. She opened her mouth to speak. “Neigh!” he barked pointing at her. “Neigh, speak not even words!” he backed away slowly like Pinkie Pie might pounce and try to eat him or something. Then he found the door and RAN out, slamming it behind him. He galloped wildly down the street.

“I really did traumatize him on his first day here.” Pinkie Pie said, her brow bunching into an apologetic smile. “Oh well!” she shrugged, going back to sweeping the floor as she had been earlier. How hadn’t Spartan seen her on the way in? Because Pinkie Pie, that’s why.

=-----=-----=-----=-----=

Twilight Sparkle was coming home from a series of errands she’d been running that day with Rainbow Dash. Why the blue mare seemed so keen on keeping her occupied all day was a brief mystery, for she’d seen the glint of armor pieces (so! Awesome!) in Rainbow’s saddlebag. Spartan had paid her off to keep her away from the library for some reason. But, after dusk began to settle Rainbow Dash suddenly had very important plans elsewhere and rather unceremoniously ditched Twilight.

When she approached her home she saw flickering lights inside. That only meant that the fireplace was in use. Yes, fireplace. Winters in Ponyville could be cold, so Twilight had one installed with special enchantments on it to have all the comforts of flame without any of the whole my-house-is-a-tree-oh-crap items to worry about. She tilted her head, hearing shuffling inside when she came close to the door. Frowning and cocking her eyebrow a little, she reached and pushed the door open with magic. It was dark inside. Well… neigh, it was half-lit inside because of the fireplace. “Spike?” she called.

“Shh, he’s in bed.” Spartan’s voice floated at her from the blackness. “Dusk is quite late at night in the late summer and autumn. Baby dragons need their rest.” Twilight peered around, shutting the door behind her. She noticed it was quite a bit warmer than normal in the tree house. What she saw, however, made her drop both saddlebags and stop to stare.

Spartan Shield, clad in socks and nothing else, was splayed out in front of the fireplace, very much on display. To one hoof, he had a waiting picnic box with Sugar Cube Corner’s logo on it. To his other, a little desk set that looked brand new and un-opened. There were quills and ink pots and a bunch of other little things inside. Twilight leaned forward with pink-faced interest. Strewn all around the floor, very deliberately, were books. Books everywhere, all around the handsome stallion. He smiled at her, waggling his eyebrows a few times.

“Th… those need to be shelved…” she mumbled vaguely, tail tucking as she wandered forward just a couple of steps. She felt… melty. Her tail tucked hard and she shuddered. “I mean… uhm…” she shut her mouth quickly when she felt a line of drool forming.

“Twilight Sparkle, some of thy history books are vague and missing bits.” He told her, gesturing to the thick tome leaning up against his flank in a rather erotic way. “Come, let us correct them. I can help. I was there, for some of these.” Twilight saw that he’d carefully picked books from his own era, things he would’ve known and seen in his lifetime. She swallowed. Dear sweet Celestia, those books. He had made books sexy. She wandered forward a few more paces, like a frightened and untrusting woodland creature. He stuck a leg out in an exaggerated stretching pose, showing off his white-with-gold-trim socks. Her eyes followed, much to his delight. Those were some pretty sexy socks... oooh... “Come.” He coaxed again, his voice a thick and comforting purr. “I even brought snacks.” He popped the box of fudge open. They steamed from the chill they held into the warm air.

A yes-yes-yes-yes dance boiled up inside Twilight, but she only shuddered and contained herself. It took all of her willpower not to squee with joy. She eagerly scuttled forward to be with him, then tripped and rather unceremoniously WHUMPED into a face-plant. Sweet Celestia her FACE! Augh! He nearly rose, looking shocked. “Twilight?!” he said, hoping her not hurt.

Twilight scrambled back to her hooves. “I’m okay!” she squeaked, coughing loudly. He quickly returned to his sensual come-hither look when she’d righted herself, clearing his throat a little. She smiled nervously at him.

‘Don’t drop thy efforts. It’s okay, just let her come to thee,’ he thought to himself. The purple mare didn’t trip over anymore books before she settled next to him. He popped the seal on the desk set as Twilight selected the first book for them to go through together. He expertly split a chocolate in half and gave her the bigger half.

They studied history together that night-- and it was very, very sexy.

End of Part 21