The Princess' Vanishing Spider
Chapter 1: Where Did It Go
It was a quiet evening all through the castle.
Four guards were posted outside Princess Rarity’s bedroom, each more bored than the last. This was good in the sense that it meant all was technically well but wrong in the sense that a bored guard meant a less attentive guard.
Thankfully, the sound of a hoof slamming against the floor quickly put them on high alert.
“Can you at least try not to look like you want to sleep?” Twilight Sparkle barked, meeting their sheepish embarrassed glances with a glare. “Take turns giving the floor a round and look for anything out of order.”
A chorus of ‘sorry’s rang out, followed in short order by the first of the guards marching off to inspect the halls. Once they’d disappeared around the corner, Twilight turned back to the window she was looking through and let her anger wash away because Goddesses, she was so bored.
This wasn’t usually an issue since she’d memorized enough books she had ample mental entertainment, but today, for some reason, literally none of them felt appealing.
When she turned away from the window, Princess Rarity’s door beckoned her, luring her to spend time inside her beloved’s bed chambers. Maybe they could play a board game or talk, or Twilight could organize Rarity’s room again. She’d organized it a few days ago, only to realize she could have made it much more efficient the next day.
But…
But they had to be more careful, especially after almost being caught kissing in the hallway the other day. Twilight knew it was unlikely anypony really suspected anything—beyond, maybe, the princess’s personal guard—but the incident had been enough to scare them.
Though, perhaps, not scare them as much as Rarity’s shriek startled Twilight at that moment.
“TWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”
It took the bodyguard less than three seconds to rush to the door and slam it open, the others barging in after her and joining her in practically jumping in front of the cowering princess in the corner.
“Where are they?!” Twilight snarled, her drawn sword ready to impale itself in the chest of the mindless idiot who thought he could hurt the princess.
Princess Rarity covered her eyes with a hoof and blindly waved upwards with the other. “There, there!” she shrieked, agonized. “On the ceiling near the lamp! Help me, help me!”
In perfect unison, the guards looked up at the ceiling and found… nothing.
“…W-What? Where?! There’s nothing there!” Did twilight reply, rapidly scanning the ceiling for… some kind of enemy? Was it invisible?! Somehow?!
“It’s there!” Rarity insisted, still covering her eyes. “A huge, ghastly spider! How can you not see it?!”
Silence reigned for a moment as Twilight’s sword levitated down.
“A… A…” She turned to Rarity, eyes wide. “A what?”
“Oh my Goddesses, are you kidding me?” whispered the guard to her right, brushing her hoof against the bridge of her nose. Twilight would have scolded her for being so insolent with the princess if she didn’t feel exactly the same triple-fold.
Finally, Rarity turned to Twilight, her exasperation matching Twilight’s quickly rising one. “A spider! That big, ugly—Wait!” With a gasp, Rarity moved forward, scanning the ceiling as Twilight earlier. “Where did it go?! Stars above, it moved! Help! Find it!”
Twilight sheathed her sword.
“False alarm, everypony,” she said, diplomatically. “Return to your stations.”
“False alarm?!” Rarity gasped, aghast as she watched them go. “This is a high alarm! Come back!” When only Twilight was left, the princess grabbed her hoof, desperate. “Twilight! What if it touches me?!”
Twilight lovingly moved Rarity’s hoof away while she less lovingly rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll recover, Princess Rarity.”
That said, she left the room and closed the door in Rarity’s scandalized face, intent on returning to her duties. The others were already at their posts, and if any good had come out of Rarity’s theatrics, it was that everyone looked more lively.
Twilight resumed her activity of staring out the window in search of suspicious activities, which admittedly quickly became wondering when the noble eating dinner on a bench outside would realize a crow was pickpocketing his bag. This in turn led to a moral debate over whether she should bring it to his attention herself.
On one hoof, stealing was always a terrible deed, even if the thief was a bird who did not adhere to or understand the concept that stealing was bad or that objects belonged to individuals; but, on the other hoof, this was the noble who was against allowing commonfolk to enter the castle for festivities, so—
“TWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILIGHT, HEEEEEEEELP!”
Once again, Twilight Sparkle and her companions barged into Rarity’s room, jumping to protect the princess now cowering by the desk.
“Where are they?!” Twilight, again, snarled, her sword brandished high.
“I saw it near the bed this time!” Rarity shrieked, covering her eyes yet again. “Right on the pillow! It’s there, it’s there! Kill it!”
They all turned to the bed to find a pristine, spider-less white pillow. One of the guards even lifted the pillows which, despite Rarity’s strangled gasp, revealed nothing.
Twilight looked at Rarity, her words measured. “Your highness, you cannot keep calling us in to deal with spiders.”
“But why not?!” the princess demanded. “Aren’t you here to guard me?!”
“From threats,” Twilight replied, coolly.
“Like spiders!” Rarity insisted.
“Real threats.”
“Like spider threats!”
Twilight Sparkle and Rarity stared at each other, shenanigan-weary bodyguard to shenanigan-plenty princess, until Twilight finally spoke again:
“Everypony, go back to your posts while I search and eliminate the threat.”
As soon as they were gone, she closed the door, took of her helmet, and finally addressed her marefriend as she wanted:
“Rarity, for the love of Celestia and Luna, next time you howl like that over an arachnid—”
“Twiiliiight!” Rarity whined, practically throwing herself at her beloved hooves. “You only say that because you haven’t seen it yourself! It’s hideous, Twilight! HIDEOUS! You must get rid of it! You MUST!”
The guard rubbed the side of her head. Well, she ought to count her blessings, shouldn’t she? She wanted a more entertaining night, and she sure was getting it.
“I’m going to look for it,” she said, carefully. “And if I don’t find it after I’m done, you cannot call us back in here again. Understood?”
“But—”
“Understood?”
Rarity whined petulantly, falling onto her hindlegs and crossing her forelegs. “Fine.”
Twilight Sparkle got to work, methodically looking through every nook and cranny of the bedroom. She moved every single piece of furniture, reorganized every drawer, went through all the clothes in the closet, and just about moved and inspected every single thing to be moved and inspected.
It took her about one hour, which was one hour more than she expected, only because Rarity kept dramatically gasping and cowering whenever she so much as moved anything. She was also set back by Rarity asking for kisses which, in a world where she was not sometimes a doormat, she would not have kept agreeing to them.
Regardless, the point was that it took her one hour, and in that one hour, she found not a single spider anywhere.
“Are you sure you didn’t hallucinate it?” Twilight asked, putting back her armor despite Rarity’s protests.
“I did not! Clearly, you just have to look again!”
“Nope. That wasn’t our deal,” Twilight replied, ever so polite as she adjusted her helmet and went for the door.
“But, darling…”
“Sweet dreams, Princess,” Twilight said in sing-song before opening the door and stepping outside to meet her fellow guards.
“Well, I didn’t find any spider,” she announced, smiling good-naturedly at her amused peers. She returned to her post by the window and peered through, holding a snort at the sight of the earlier noble chasing down the thieving crow.
A few minutes passed by in silence, and once the noble gave up on his chase, Twilight turned her attention to her reflection in the window. She was happy to see she didn’t look as tired as she felt, which was quite tired. Thankfully, that would soon be dealt with when her eyes lazily trailed up her face, up her helmet, and landed on the truly enormous, truly furry black spider resting on the top of her helmet.
For the third time that night, a high-pitched shriek rang out in the castle hallways, followed shortly after by the princess’ door slamming open and Rarity coming out, alarmed.
“What was that?!” she demanded, her alarm turning into panic at seeing Twilight flattened against a wall, her helmet thrown ten feet away. “Twilight?! What’s wro—”
“There it is!” yelped one of the guards.
Everypony’s eyes shot to the section of the rug he was pointing at, upon which the furball with legs was standing.
Rarity gasped. “The spider!” A pause. “Wait.” Her eyes flickered to Twilight—only now regaining her composure—then to the helmet and then to the spider. Her horror turned into a perverse smirk. “Well, well, well.”
Twilight wanted to die of shame. “Your Highness—”
“I hope you know,” Rarity interrupted, relishing every second, “I will never let you live this down, Sparkle.”
“But, Princess—” Twilight protested, knowing full well there was no saving herself now. “You have to understand that—”
“Wait,” one of the guards interrupted with a screech, uttering one of most terrifying questions one could ever hear: “Where did the spider go?”