Chapter Fourteen

Sojourn

Well, suffice to say that when Spike finally came to, he was immediately bombarded by the sight of Trixie sitting next to him. Not an unwelcome sight, mind you, but still one he was still having trouble coming to grips with. “T-Trixie?” he said, his mind still piecing things together. “How... how are you doing?”

“Fine, thanks,” she replied, shifting a bit. “How have you been?”

“Well, besides a storm while on the Crowhop and that nasty baron in Prance, I’d say pretty good,” he said. “How did you get to Roam, anyways?”

“An oblong hot-air balloon, a dirigible I believe they called it,” the unicorn said, twirling a bit of her mane between her fingers. “Pretty big one: seated almost one hundred of us.”

“Wait, those are usable for transporting ponies?” Spike asked. “I thought they were used for cargo in the mountains.” He didn’t remember any really being mentioned outside of the books on newer forms of travel.

“Yes, well, the passenger ones can only go through very large cities, and it is rather expensive to travel by them,” Trixie said, scooting closer to him. “It cost me a lot of bits to find you, mister dragon.”

“Money will not be an issue,” Spike said, realizing that for someone as frugal as Trixie had likely become, her business was really her only source of funds. Now that she had come to find him and reveal this news to him, her show was on hiatus until further notice: she wouldn’t be making any bits at all.

“I know, Spike: I’m just not sure about us, and the foal,” she said, rubbing her still-flat stomach.

“How far along are you?” Spike asked.

“Around a few weeks at least, if not maybe a month or so at the most. The doctor pony told me it should be a big one: likely bigger than a normal foal when born.” She looked up from her stomach to the dragon. “I’m thinking it’ll be a filly.”

“Well, no matter if it’s a colt or filly, I want to be there for you,” Spike said, hoping he had thought of this right in his dreamland. Well, there had been ice cream and volcanoes, but the plan was still there.

“I know, Spike: I know,” Trixie said, gently rubbing his hand with hers. “It’s just... I want this foal to have the best possible future, and raising him or her by myself would definitely not work out. I was hoping you’d... you’d... marry me.”

“Of course,” said Spike without so much as a blink. Well, that part came around a lot faster and easier than he had thought. “Of course I’ll marry you, Trixie.”

She smiled graciously and threw her arms around the drake, pulling him into a hug. “Oh, Spike: thank you! I just wish... never mind,” she said.

“Wish what?” Spike asked, returning her embrace but with a puzzled expression.

“It’s silly,” Trixie said, her voice becoming a whisper, as if she’d be mortified if any overheard her talking.

“It’s won’t be silly to me,” Spike replied. “Tell me, please.”

“Oh, all right,” Trixie said, releasing herself from his grasp. “I was hoping to send your... friend Twilight Sparkle the news: about the foal and all.” Spike did not laugh: instead, he became rather... pale. “Are you okay, Spike?” Trixie asked, sounding suddenly concerned.

“Yeah, it’s just...” Spike began, scratching the back of his neck. “I know how you and Twilight have become good friends and all over the years, even with your busy schedule, and I’m not sure how she’ll react to this... news. I feel she might try to flay me alive.”

“Oh, Spike: don’t be silly,” Trixie said, magically retrieving some paper and a quill from her pack. “I am sure she’ll understand.”

A few hours later, in Canterlot...

Twilight was sipping tea with her friends after finishing with divvying up the last of Spike’s goods from Austria. There had been quite the number, and Twilight felt exhausted, to put it mildly.

She felt a strange feeling overcome her horn. “Ooh, another letter!” she squealed, causing her friends to look at her anxiously. Settling down, her horn glowed a bit before the scroll popped into existence above her. Reaching out with her hand, the purple unicorn caught it with practiced ease and pried the sealant off.

“Dear Twilight,” she began to read aloud, her eyes slowly working their way over each word so as not to miss anything. “I have arrived in Roam and will be leaving soon enough for Algereigns. However, something unexpected has come up.”

“Unexpected?” Twilight repeated to her friends, raising her eyebrows. They all merely shrugged their shoulders.
She continued. “As you know, I am married to Maria and Meia, but I met someone...” her words trailed off as she read, her lips silently forming the words “Trixie”, “train”, and...

“I’LL FLAY HIM ALIVE!” she shouted suddenly, jumping up, sending her tea flying. Luckily Rarity’s own magic caught it before it could splash everywhere, with her friends all having almost fallen backwards at Twilight’s outburst.

“My dear, what ever is the matter?” Rarity said, extremely puzzled. Pinkie Pie pulled Fluttershy out from behind a few curtains, and Applejack readjusted her hat after Twilight’s shout had nearly blown it off.

“It’s Spike!” Twilight shouted, her hands balling into fists. “He’s... he’s... oh, that insufferable dragon! The next time I see him, he’s gonna be in a world of hurt!”

“My dear, it can’t be that bad,” Rarity said, retrieving the scroll and reading it to herself. Rainbow Dash flittered behind her, her wings holding her aloft as she tried to read it as well.

Rarity glanced over her shoulder. “You know, it’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder, Dash.”

“Uh, fine,” the rainbow-colored pegasus muttered, flittering back to her seat by Fluttershy, who had calmed down enough to not tremble like a tree in a hurricane.

“Ahem,” Rarity continued, clearing her throat. “As you know, I took the train to out of Canterlot. There, I met Trixie, and well, one thing lead... to... another...” Rarity’s words almost died in her throat as her face turned an interesting shade of red.

“Come on! What happened?!” Pinkie nearly shouted, almost doing a flip out of her chair.

“Spike... is going to be a... a father,” Rarity said, her blush intensifying.

There were several audible gasps at this statement, before Rainbow Dash punched a fist into the air.

“Yeah! I knew he had it in him!” she shouted, pausing as she felt the eyes of her friends look at her with disdain. “What?”

“Well, sugarcube,” Applejack began, taking the letter from Rarity, who had finished the letter and had a far-off look in her eyes. “It says here Trixie was pregnant before they met again in Roam. He’s gettin’ married to her at sunset, so that means they’re hitched right now. Outta wedlock, that foal coulda been born. Ya know what that means?”

“No?” Dash replied.

“It means disgrace, shame: all sorts of horrible things!” Twilight said, her shout now more like a loud grumble. “Plus, he had the nerve to insinuate that I had a hand in teaching him his... moves!”

“Well, didn’t you catch him readin’ yer dirty magazines awhile back?” Applejack asked, cocking an eyebrow. Twilight turned a darker shade of purple.

“That... that was different. I-I enjoy those for the articles.”

“Sure you do,” Dash said, winking. “So: Spike’s gonna be a dad. A first, I gotta say.”

“What do you mean, a first?” Fluttershy asked, opening her mouth for the first time.

“Well, outta all of us, he’s gonna be the first to be a parent,” Dash said, a tad solemnly at that. The others were silent at her words: all of their tasks and their busy lives meant they were too busy for relationships. Strange: Spike was younger than them, and yet, he was going to be a parent first. Heck, he had three wives.

“Well, he’ll still be in for it when I see him next,” Twilight grumbled, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, well, I think Rarity will want to see him before you kill him,” Pinkie said, causing Rarity to snap back to focus.

“Pinkie! That’s not a very ladylike thing to say,” she said, sounding both outraged and flustered. "For you to insinuate that my feelings for Spike have evolved beyond friendly is-,"

“Yeah, well, we can discuss our feelings later,” Twilight said, cutting off the white unicorn as she sat back down with her tea. “Right now, we really need to check these finances.”

The others groaned slightly but got back to work, ruffling through the papers.

Back in Roam, the ceremony was over. It had been a small one, with only a few passing attendees. Spike and Trixie were married: she filled, as Spike thought, the third spot for his minimum total of wives, and all unicorns to boot. Whether it was fate, chance, or some deep psychological attraction to the species, he hadn’t a clue, but he did know one thing: if this journey took more than ten or eleven months, then he’d have a foal to take care of during the last legs of it.

Truth be told, he was far more excited at the prospect of being a father than being scared, but if the foal was born during the trip, then they’d have to move much slower. Travel such as this was difficult for anyone, and a foal was not near as durable as an adult.

Soon enough, the entirety of their gold supply was down more than it had been when they arrived. Plenty left for much of the journey, and that was after Spike had bought and sent back so many goods to Equestria. Surprisingly, he had yet to get a letter back from Twilight on his revelation of his marrying/impregnating Trixie. That threw him for a loop: surely she had something to say. She always did, after all.

Our four left the city of Roam in the three carriages once more, the third carriage being occupied by both Spike and Trixie. They had a lot to catch up on, so Maria and Meia stayed in the other carriages, as they had for the last few weeks.

The rolling hills of the countryside gave way to mountains here and there as the roads wound themselves down through Neightaly. Spike was looking out the window at the setting sun when he heard Trixie mutter something to herself.

“Yes dear?” he asked, looking over at her. She looked up from a small book she had been reading, her cheeks flushing slightly at his attention.

“Oh, Spike: sorry to interrupt your sightseeing,” she said, closing the book after placing a marker in it. “I was just reading up on some unicorn biology.”

“For the foal?” Spike asked.

“Yes,” she replied, folding her hands in her lap. “As you know, all four species of pony have more or less the same kind of cycle: heats every once in a while during the year, with the longest-lasting one usually around the end of winter or mid-spring. While it may vary by a few weeks, the pregnancy lasts around eleven months. I was just wondering to myself: just how long will this journey of yours- I mean, ours, take?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Spike said, his mind already filing away the information for later. “It should take less than a year, I should hope, unless we meet some impasse or unfortunate circumstance that delays us.”

“Well, I should hope that we arrive back in Equestria before the foal wants to meet the world,” Trixie said, patting her stomach slightly. “By Celestia, I am going to get so fat.” her ears lowered at her words, as if she felt sad for herself.

“No!” Spike admonished, hearing the slight tone of disappointment in her voice. “You won’t get fat, Trixie. If anything I’ve learned about biology means anything, then the most you’ll get is a small swelling in the stomach region. You’ll still be sexy.”

The unicorn blinked, her ears perking up. “Really?” she asked, a smile gracing her features. “You’ll still think I’m sexy?”

“Of course,” Spike replied, mentally high-fiving his brain for the quick thinking. If someone had told him one year ago he'd have three wives and be a dashing, wooing rogue, he'd have told them they were crazy.

“Do you... think I’m sexy now?” Trixie asked, leaning closer to her husband.

“Yes, of course,” Spike said, feeling an awful amount of déjà vu coming over him.

Trixie leaned forward enough until she was resting her body on Spike’s, her head against his chest. “Since it’s too cramped in here, would you just hold me?” Her arms clutched his sides as she breathed in his masculine scent.

“Of course: I’d be glad to,” Spike said, laying his arms over her and pulling her close.

“I love you, Spike,” she said, closing her eyes as the gentle rocking of the carriage made her drowsy. Spike’s warmth also played a factor in it.

“I love you too, Trixie,” Spike said, kissing the top of her head. He made a conscious effort to not touch her horn: such actions had a way of... exciting unicorns. “I love all of you.” That last part was but a whisper to himself, still carrying the same conviction he felt when he told each of them the same. Soon enough, his eyes too became heavy, and he drifted off to sleep.

He found himself atop a tall tower, looking out over fields and forests. Everywhere, ponies of all shapes, sizes and colors gathered around the base, kneeling before him. Spike turned to his left and saw his wife Meia, wearing a mask and some sort of glistening cape. In her hands, she held a small bundle.

He could not see the contents, but the air was alive with a buzzing of sorts, as if a million dragonflies were beating their wings at the same time. However, the skies were clear of any insects or even pegasi.

Raising the small bundle to the sky, Meia cried out to the ponies below, causing a cheer to erupt from them. The buzzing intensified as the sun broke through some clouds and illuminated the small bundle, revealing-

“Mmm,” a voice sounded, causing Spike’s dream to rapidly fade away. He tried to see through the brightening darkness, but all he could hear was a humming noise. Well, and feel it, too: he could definitely feel it.

“Wha?” Spike said drowsily, looking down. Through his sleep-encrusted eyes, he could see a white mane moving... up and down near a very personal region. That, and some wet slurping noise greeted his ears.

“Trixie? What are you-,”

“Shush, Spike,” she said, cutting off his questions as she let his "love-stick" drop from her mouth. “Just sit back and enjoy this.” With that, she took him back into her mouth, the slurping noise returning as her saliva coated his member. Spike almost closed his eyes to revel in the feeling, but he kept them open. He watched as the blue unicorn seemingly devoured his shaft, licking it up and down like some candied sweet. How she had managed to fish it out of his trousers without waking him was anypony’s guess, but Spike didn’t really care about that now.

He could feel that similar feeling of eruption creeping up on him, but for the moment he held it at bay, his control at least stalling his body’s response. That was, until the back of her throat hit the tip of his swollen cock.

“Mmmph,” Trixie moaned around the large phallus in her mouth, drool running slightly down the sides of it as she kept most of it in her mouth. She had been able to take it quite a bit farther than Meia or Maria: still not all the way, but a remarkable feat nonetheless. Spike gasped slightly at the new sensation of her tongue running all over his shaft while Trixie’s mouth held him in place with her suction. Soon enough, after only a few minutes of this tortuous pleasure, he relented.

After all the sex he had been having over the past few weeks, the amount that came out was nowhere near the “torrent” his brides were used to. Still, it was no laughing matter, as Trixie was barely able to swallow it without choking. She continued to suck it out of him until he was done, which still wasn't short by any means.

“Mmm, tastes like cream,” she muttered, laying back down on him. He had no idea why his wives kept saying it tasted like chocloate or strawberries, or now cream: must have been different for everypony “So, Spike: how was your wake-up call?”

“Amazing: I could get used to this,” he said, tenderly stroking her mane. “Do you always wake me up with sex?”

“Hmm, must just be fate,” Trixie said. “After all, the “Great and Powerful Trixie” does not disappoint as she once did.”

“I can see that,” Spike said with a smile. “Though, I’ve been meaning to ask: since when did you stop referring to yourself in third-pony?”

The unicorn was silent for a moment. “A few years ago, some competitor came onto the show scene: a brash young colt, with an ego rivaling mine at its height. He called himself “The Great and Powerful Oz,” and for a while ponies thought I had copied his title and form of speech. I changed, he didn’t: ponies grew tired of him and he faded from sight, disappearing into the plains or something.”

“Huh,” Spike said. “Never heard of him.”

“Good: he was unbearable to perform against,” his wife said, snuggling closer to him. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Not right now,” the drake replied, pulling her closer to him. “For now, let’s just rest here, and think of the journey to come.”

“Sounds nice,” she replied, settling into his arms. So they sat there as the carriages continued on, never ceasing. They were wary after the last time they had stopped nowhere near any settled areas: Prance was indeed a learning experience for Spike, Meia and Maria.

The carriages continued down the interior of Neightaly, occasionally crossing over to the coastal roads. The scenery was rather beautiful, to be honest, and overall the villages they visited were rather friendly. Rolling hills, fertile fields of olives, the occasional winery dotting the landscape: it was all very scenic and Spike’s pictures were like something out of a travel brochure. He didn’t say anything, but the drake had a feeling that once many of these became known, Equestrian tourists would flock to this exotic and beautiful locale. Soon enough, after who knew how many exact miles they had traveled, the three carriages arrived at the southernmost point of Neightaly well into the afternoon..

From there, the four travelers booked passage aboard a small passenger ship, nowhere near the size of the Crowhop. From there, the planned route included a short stop in Pamarelo, a large city on the island of Sicily. After that, it would be a direct route to the northern tip of Algereigns, from where they would set off with any caravan passing the way they were going.

First things first: the trip on board the... well, Spike had no idea on how to pronounce it. All he did know was that it was spelled Auditore. Other than himself and his wives, only a few others had booked passage. As such, each of them got their own rooms, all right next to each other on the far end of the ship.

The sun was only slightly above the horizon as the ship sailed through the waters of the Meditermanean Sea, the waves much less severe than those of the Barnlantic. Spike had retreated to his own cabin as had the others: Trixie was not feeling well from the movement of the waves, and both Meia and Maria were tired from the long trip.

But stay in his cabin, Spike could not: he grew restless and eventually left it behind, going out to the main deck with a specially-made drink in hand. He sipped it quietly while he looked around: only a few other ponies were up there. The young drake sat down on a bench, trying to clearly think of the journey ahead without a roof over his head. The spray of the sea salt reminded him of when he had left Manehattan over a month ago.

“Oh,” he thought to himself upon feeling an uplifting in his stomach. Opening his mouth, a small scroll popped out, and to his slight dismay, it wasn’t from Twilight. It bore the royal seal of Princess Celestia.

Unclasping the seal, he began to read to himself.

“Dearest Spike, I trust that your journey thus far has been fruitful?” Jeez, did she know about Trixie being pregnant too? “I write this letter to inform you of your next stop, in Algereigns no less. A sultan in the region, a very powerful sultan mind you, has been sending me letters for years now asking for information about the world outside of his nation. He has had very little political contact and I believe he has the best interests of his country at heart.”

Well, Celestia certainly had retained her method of cramming information into a letter: Spike read on.

“Furthermore, this sultan, an Ahmad Rahal, I believe, wishes to meet a dragon. I was hoping you would stop by and stay for a short time, so as to indulge him with your presence and to learn anything you can from him. He is located in Agrabah, a city a ways away from the coastline.”

“Sincerely, Princess Celestia.” Spike looked further down the letter: there was another note.

“P.S. Congratulations are in order for your journey into fatherhood, Spike.”

Spike closed the letter, and put it away in his trousers’ pocket, his mind sifting through this set of information. “Well, hopefully a caravan will be passing through this city: I doubt travel along the coastline will be safe,” he muttered to himself. Spike had known for days that the northern coast of Africa was unsafe, as pirates, brigands and thieves patrolled the coasts in droves. It would be like meeting the baron all over again, except he’d likely be killed and his wives sold into slavery. He was taking no chances: the trip through the Samarea Desert would be far safer. Besides, the routes were all along oasis and such, so the going would get too rough.

He took another sip of his drink, something he had specially brewed from a few select ingredients back in the city of Neighples. To a dragon, it was a relaxant, specifically designed to reduce tension. It affected all other races differently: to minotaurs, it was a hallucinogenic, and to griffins, it was a sedative.

As he was musing, he could hear a few hushed but heated words off in a corner. Hoof steps fading away signaled one voice, feminine in nature, had gone down below. The other figure approached and sat down beside him: an earth pony stallion, by the looks of it.

“Hello, the name’s Spike,” Spike said, hoping to start a conversation.

“Greetings, I am Michael Corleone,” the stallion replied with an oddly heavy accent: definitely Neightalian in origin.

“So, where are you headed off to?” the drake asked, looking out over the sea.

“Back home to Pamarelo, after a visit with my wife’s family on the mainland,” the stallion said, not continuing on after that. Not the chattiest fellow, was he?

They sat in silence for a while before Spike spoke again. “I couldn’t help but overhear you arguing with somepony. Personal problems?”

The stallion sighed. “My wife, Caterina. She and I have wanted a foal for some time, but... I’m always tired when I come home from working out in the fields, you know? I make more than enough to take care of us, and yet... right now she’s in heat, and I’m exhausted. I don’t know what else to do.” He sounded like he was at wit’s end, and this was obviously placing great strain on his marriage.

Spike was surprised at this: even back in Ponyville, farmers had more than enough energy after a hard day of work to do things around town, whether it was to help build, repair or move things. He took another sip of his drink, right as a revelation hit him. He looked into the contents, remembering just what the seller had told him.

“For ponies, messire, this brew is of a hefty stimulant, with an addition of acting as an aphrodisiac. Be careful, though: any pony who drinks this may become wild and unruly if not sated.”

He looked over at the stallion who seemed so downtrodden at his own misfortune. “Here, have a drink of this, and let me ask you something,” Spike said. The stallion tentatively took the drink and sipped it, listening to the drake.

“Do you love your wife?” Spike asked, remembering the psychology scrolls and books Twilight had forced him to read after the bullying incident between Babs and Applebloom. Thankfully they had become good friends, but the lessons, while boring, had proven to be invaluable.

“Of course,” the stallion said, drinking a bit more of the brew. Already his neck straightened and he seemed to tense up slightly: wow, that stuff worked fast.

“Do you want your wife to be happy?” Spike asked, noticing the changes immediately. Nostrils beginning to flare, eyes widening as the drug went through his system: this stallion was ready.

“Of course, messire,” the stallion said again. Spike gently took the drink from him and smiled.

“Then I want you to go down to your wife’s room, lock the door behind you, and show her how much she means to you,” he said. “Show her how much you love her.”

With a springing motion the stallion leaped to his hooves, nostrils flared and a wild look in his eyes. “I do not know why I feel so energized, dragon, but I thank you,” Michael said, and with that he tore off down the stairs, a door slamming shut soon after.

Spike leaned back and sighed, staying on deck until his drink was finished. After that, he went back down to his cabin and rolled into bed, the night sky high above twinkling with innumerable stars. Several doors down, he could hear moans and thumps against the wall. Well, many more thumps than moans, and from the intensity of them, it was going to last a long time. Hopefully his own wives wouldn't mind the noise.

“Good work, Mr. Corleone,” Spike mused as his eyes closed. “Show her the same love I feel for my own wives.” With that, he promptly fell asleep, drifting off into dreamland once more.

Author's Notes:

Well, here it is. This was going to continue on much longer, but I decided to split it into two separate chapters.