Chapter Five

From East to West and Back Again

The sun’s rays shone warmly through the windows of the small inn settled amongst the hills of the Equninish countryside. The green hills sparkled with dew in the early morning sunlight, as an early morning fog that had rolled in at night faded away to nothingness except in the deeper dips between the steeper hills. Birds flitted to and fro between the trees and down to the ground, intent of snatching up the lazy insects and worms that had come out the warm night before. A bubbling brook ran behind the treeline, with fish splashinng to and fro, intent on gobbling up the flying insects that flittered over the water's surface.

Chrysalis sniffed the air as she opened her eyes, a peculiar scent waiting through her room. It smelled like something had been baking and was just being taken out of the oven. She had not been expecting such a smell to be so... wonderfully delicious. “Hmm,” she thought, getting up and stretching her lean disguise. “I wonder what they could be making?” Truthfully she was nearly the same litheness in her disguise as she was in her true form, but she was still glad she had shrunk her thighs just a bit.

Baking was a rare treat back in the lands of the Changelings, and Chrysalis, being queen, was usually the only one with a head chef that could bake something halfway decent. That was when she infiltrated Canterlot, the first thing she had done was to explore all the culinary delights that pervaded the scenery. Yes, it had been almost more worth it than the invasion itself, but it had been one of the happiest days of her life. Well, until the invasion proved bust and she was tossed out with her changeling army. Then it went from happiest day to most humiliating: one she intended to eventually repay.

There was a knock at her door, which slightly startled the Changeling Queen. “Who is it?” she asked, maintaining some semblance of calm. Why was she so jumpy all of a sudden? Nopony could possibly know of her disguise, and apart from the pony who had sold them her dress, she had yet to see another unicorn in this country.

“It’s me, Spike,” said the voice. “I just came by to tell you that breakfast is ready and we’ll soon be on our way. One of the mares here said the weather should be nice for a while.”

On our way? What did he mean by that? “Oh, of course,” she thought, thinking back to what he had told her before. “Finding all those things for his friends.” Dressing quickly in a fresh set of clothes, she packed the rest away and walked out in time to find the dragon sipping what looked to be tea, with a half-eaten biscuit lying on a small plate in front of him. He was seated at a communal breakfast table of sorts, though he was all by himself. They hadn't seen any other carriages parked at the inn, so it was possible they were the only guests staying there.

“I never figured you for a tea drinker,” Chrysalis/Meia said, sitting down and magically retrieving a biscuit for herself.

“I never was one, but it pays to try new things, and this here is good." The dragon was silent for a while until the staring of Meia got to him. "Oh, this?" Spike queried, gesturing at his cup. "This here is a special tea brewed from the needles of the Scots Pine in the highlands of Northern Equineland,” he said. “What with tea imported from India being so incredibly costly to more rural folk, they’ve discovered ways of making do with what they could import locally.” He took another sip. “It’s actually quite sweet and minty, if you wanted to know. Would you care for some?”

“No thank you,” Meia replied after swallowing a bite of her biscuit. “I’ll be fine.”

They sat in silence as they ate their breakfast, the only noises those coming from the birds twittering outside. It was a rather peaceful start to the day, so that when they finished and packed their luggage into a waiting pony-less carriage, they were almost sad to say goodbye to it. Still, they had a long journey ahead of them, and as such they needed a good start. Weather in this part of the country, or so they had been told, was notorious for changing at a moment’s notice. It could be bright and sunny one minute, and within an hour it could be raining like no tomorrow.

The carriage wound along the road, the ground beneath them a completely compacted dirt surface from all the traffic it had seen over the years. Due to the nature of the local soils, so much traffic had gone over it that nothing could grow there: not even weeds. Small stones lined the outside, so as to mark the boundaries in case it grew harder to see a ways off of one's carriage. Meia occasionally glanced over at Spike, who was too busy writing down and taking pictures of things to notice. So as not to appear rude, she waited until he had put his supplies away before speaking.

“Spike, back on the ship, you received a letter,” she said slowly, as if trying to say it without sounding too nosy. She couldn't have him thinking she was trying to worm her way into his life so soon, or else he might become suspicious. “If you don’t mind me asking, what did it say?”

Spike glanced at her for a moment as if in thought, but seemingly dismissed it as he looked back out the window. “It was a letter from the ones financing my trip, for the most part,” he replied good-naturedly. “It detailed one of the places we'd be staying. Once we reach Spreign, it said we’ll be staying with the Almareconraddo Del Rivioso family for a while.”

“Del Rivioso,” Meia repeated, truly not knowing who they were. “Are they royalty of some sort?”

“I believe so: the letter made that much clear, though I am not sure as to what kind of ponies they are,” Spike said, remembering his obligation to continuing his line. He’d try to wait a bit more until he started looking for mares who wouldn’t mind sharing him: they’d have to all get along, after all. A divided house could not stand, after all, and if he was to have at least three wives, then he'd have to keep the peace.

A soft rumble in the distance startled him out of his thoughts. “Meia, I think it’s gonna rain soon,” he said, looking out the window at their destination: another port city on the southern part of the island. In an isolated land such as Equineland, the locals had definitely learned the values of cooperation and ingenuity in order to not only survive, but thrive.

“I’ll get my rain cloak,” she said with a sigh, rummaging around in a bag of hers. Another rumble sounded in the distance, closer than before. Spike too rummaged in a satchel he carried, a gift from the inn owner upon hearing of what he was mostly doing. Mostly being a general term; no mention of royalty or brides, else he might have had trouble traveling the countryside without every farmer's daughter throwing themselves at him. Word got around quickly in parts where everyone knew everyone and was at least related in some way, whether close or distant. Sounded a lot like parts of Equestria, though the Apple family surely didn't have that many relatives.

Within an hour of traveling some more, Spike’s prediction had come true: the rain was absolutely pouring down on the magical carriage, causing the roadways to become slick with mud. All around them slow winds pelted raindrops against the windows of the carriage, blurring the image of the outside to them. Still, when they were within sight of the port town, they could tell: a bright multitude of lights off in the distance wasn’t some hallucination caused by rain, after all. Otherwise, that would have meant they were lost, and that would have been very bad in this kind of weather.

When they reached the top of the last hill between them and the town, something happened that they did not expect. With a crunch, the carriage lurched to the side. Upon impacting the inside of the compartment, Spike and Meia’s own weight added to the problem, and then the whole kit and caboodle tipped over, landing with a loud squish in the middle of the muddy road. Luckily the windows of the carriage hadn't broken, else the mud would have flooded into the carriage and absolutely covered them. Well, Spike might have burned his way out, but Meia, even with her magic, could have been suffocated by all the mud.

“Are you okay?” Spike said, looking over at Meia, whose mane had been tussled more than slightly from the fall. He himself felt fine, as the fall was nothing to fret about. he had endured worse, though to him, worse included rolling down a steep hill after tripping on a log.

“Yeah, but now I've got one nasty headache,” she said, rubbing her temples. “It can’t be more than a half mile to the nearest inn, and I’m not for staying out in this busted carriage. If it keeps raining like this, we could be half buried in mud by the time someone comes out here.” Plus, the carriage was not exactly a good source of insulation, so they would get cold rather quickly if they stayed.

“Can you fix it with your magic?” Spike asked, making sure their rain cloaks were securely fastened before climbing out into the pouring rain. Meia took one look at the carriage’s underside and shook her head.

“Both axles are broken, the wheels on the side we landed on are splintered, and I think the whole compartment is off kilter,” she said, pulling their thankfully sparse provisions from the rear compartments. "Even if I tried, I'm not asure this would be road-worthy again with what litle I could do." She pointed out towards the town. “If we hurry, I think we can make it before we catch something.”

Spike nodded, hauling the largest bags onto his back and setting off at a methodical pace: not slow by any means, but he wasn’t exactly setting a new land speed record. Meia kept up behind him, her cloak already showing signs of being soaked through. As if to add to their misfortune, the rain began to pour harder than before, drenching them to the bone and reducing visibility to almost nil. Still they plodded on, following the muddy road as a guide to the port town. The wind, mercifully gentle before, picked up slightly, so that even soaked their cloaks swirled around them like wisps of smoke.

Finally they arrived, chilled and feeling somewhat sick from the ordeal of slugging so far through such conditions. Stopping at the first inn they found, they were sadly informed it was full and would have to try the next one. With a tone of despair they said thanks and hurried as well as they could to the next one, which thankfully had one extra room for them. One extra room, and from the old stallion’s description, it had no fireplace and only one bed.

Right now, Meia would have been thoroughly grateful if she could have found a damned cave to sleep in, never mind a soft bed. Still, in the back of her mind, this did bring up a problem: the two of them would have to share it, and as Spike (being a dragon) was nigh immune to certain weather conditions, his source of heat would be the best way to warm her up before she could catch a cold or worse. If she did come down with something, he could possibly leave her behind out of concern for her health, which was the last thing she needed if her plan was to work.

Spike seemed to have reached the same conclusion as soon as they dropped their thankfully dry luggage in the small room. Peeling off the soaked cloaks and hanging them up, hopefully so they could dry, Spike looked at Meia.
“We’ll need to share the bed: our bodies will keep each other warm.” Well, he was already warm: his body would be the one keeping her warm.

“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?” Meia asked, deciding a slightly coy response would be the best one. However this progressed, she could count on staying warm and staving off sickness.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” Spike responded with a slight grin, remembering the value of a true Pinkie Promise. Turning away as the unicorn undressed, he climbed into bed right after stripping down to his scales. If he had turned around, he would have noticed Meia glancing at him while he undressed.

“Mmm, what a nice ass,” she thought, before mentally slapping herself. “Get it together mare!” she thought to herself, crawling in beside him so that Spike’s back faced her chest. “He’s a future tool, a pawn: don’t go down that train of thought!” Who knew where she would end up if she did?

But she still snuggled up to him all the same, his body giving off a fairly pleasant amount of heat. “Goodnight Meia,” Spike said. His tail was also very warm, and it pressed up against her legs, heating them better than any blanket could have.

“Goodnight, Spike,” she replied, her shivering gone as she held the dragon’s warm body against her own. Outside the rain continued to pour, but inside, the pair were warm and safe.

They awoke the next morning and quickly dressed, Spike waiting for Meia to finish before removing the covers from over his head and dressing himself. After paying for a small breakfast, the pair left the inn, traveling down the slippery streets to the harbor. A galleon awaited them, far larger and more spacious than the Crowhop had been, but then again, this ship was practically defenseless: an escort of gunboats sailed with it as soon as it left the harbor, their flags signifying them as such.

For the better part of the day Spike and Meia did nothing but talk and compile his things for transport. In the middle of the day, when the shores of Portucolt were off in the distance, Spike magically teleported all he needed back to his friends: spares of his journal notes, pictures of the military garb the local militia wore, descriptions of the animals (however few) he had seen, and some rather exquisite wool cloth from the highland sheep of the north. He had found only one scroll for Twilight, a spell-caster’s guide to sailing, and only one kind of apple seed for the apple farm. No new kinds of balloons or anything for Pinkie, but he had sent her the next best thing: designs for party kites, a dream-gift Pinkie had been talking about for a good three years now.

Within the hour the ship docked and the pair went off, traveling by carriage through the mountainous terrain of the coastal cities. As luck would have it, a market was near the edge of town, and due to its elevation the locals had plenty of rather unexpected things to be sold. Many citrus fruits and garden vegetables were there, along with copper trinkets studded with semi-precious stones and get this: genuine velvet. Using most of his remaining money, Spike bought much of this, including a scroll detailing the growth of food on a mountain’s slopes. With this, he and Meia set off once more, soon crossing the border into the lands of Spreign.

Truth be told, while the Equinish countryside had been pleasant and the Portucolt grandiose in its own mountainous way, the wide open fields of olives and the jagged peaks of Spreign’s countryside were a sight to behold. Vineyards filled with vines, carefully cultivated by the same families for centuries, stretched out as far as the eye could see, the fruits glistening in the sun. The sun glinted off of the stony walls of the fortresses and castles they passed, still in use after being built centuries before. Towns and villages everywhere, with friendly ponies greeted them in their native tongue: Spreignish. Earth ponies and unicorns abounded wherever they went, and pegasi flew overhead laden with enchanted carts: much easier transporting goods by air than by road, especially between towns in the higher elevations.

As dusk approached, the carriage rounded a corner to find the way blocked by a fallen tree. It looked ancient and if his hunch was correct, it hadn’t been alive in some time. No roots, no branches, and a distinct lack of bark only confirmed his suspicions Getting out of the carriage, Spike walked up to the tree and examined it.

“Is everything all right?” Meia called out, peering out the window at him. "Why have we stopped?"

“Well, this tree didn’t fall here on its own,” Spike called back, scratching his chin. “Someone placed it across the path on purpose.”

“Why would they do that?” Meia called out just as some shrubs above Spike rustled. He looked up in time to see a mangy and absolutely repulsive stallion leap out at him, a small dagger held in one hand. No ordinary dagger could pierce a dragon's hide, but still, Spike was unwilling to let the thief get to him.

With his instincts kicking in, Spike rolled to the side, the glinting dagger missing him by an uncomfortable margin. Spinning quickly, he dodged another frantic swipe as the crazed bandit lunged again, shouting maniacally in his foreign tongue.

In his efforts to not become impaled, Spike tripped on a rock and fell backwards, his legs facing upwards as the stallion, sensing an opportunity, leaped on him. They thrashed for a few seconds before Spike kicked him up and over him, the force sending the bandit over the ledge of the winding road and down the steep rocky slope. He didn’t rise from where he had come to a still.

Spike breathed deeply as he climbed to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. Knowing full well that the bandit had been alone, if his method of attack was anything to go by, Spike shoved the tree off to the side of the path. A glimmer caught his eye up in the bushes from where the thief had jumped at him. Climbing up, he couldn’t believe his eyes: three large satchels of gold coins, gleaming in the sunlight. Knowing an opportunity when he saw one, he grabbed the three, slung them over his shoulder, and clambered down, all while Meia watched.

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, as she had seen the whole ordeal happen in front of her. “Where is the bandit? What did you find?”

“He's a good ways down the hill, likely unconscious, and these are that thief’s ill-gotten gains,” Spike said, loading them up into the carriage. “We’ll divide what we need, and give the rest to some poor ponies.” He passed for a second. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Divide?” Meia asked. “What do you mean divide?”

“Divide, as in we’ll split this ‘treasure’ between us,” Spike said. “No doubt there’s more than enough for us, so whatever is left over will be given to the first poor pony we see, as an act of charity.”

“But why not keep it for ourselves?” Meia asked. A rather legitimate question, given the circumstances.

“As we’ll soon be staying with nobility, I see no reason to keep more than we currently need,” Spike replied as he climbed in the carriage: it began to move once more. “Besides, if my hunch is correct, they’ll set us up with plenty with gifts: royals tend to do that as a show of good favor.”

“Well then, I hope you know what you’re doing: saving some gold for later could pay off in the long run,” Meia said as they began to split up the first satchel of gold. They did this for a good hour, as Spike made sure any gemstones they found were placed in a separate pile entirely. As to why, he did not say, and Meia had a reasonable suspicion that despite his draconic heritage, he wasn’t going to hoard or eat them.

When they had finished, they had around five hundred gold pieces apiece, with a hundred more to be given to the first poor pony they came across. Still, by the time they entered the city of Mare-agoza, which had grown out of the central citadel known as Mare-agon. The gleaming edifices seemed to reach out from the very sides of the mountains on which it was partially built. Statues, botanical gardens and even a river flowed through the palatial estate, or at least from where Spike and Meia could see. Who knew what else lie within the walls of such royal splendor?

Traveling through the city, Spike was both awed and somewhat repulsed by the city. Parts were clean, and others, especially those where water would collect after rain, were not so clean. Here and there clusters of trees sprouted from bare patches of dirt, but many of the houses seemed simple and inelegant, which truth be told was to be expected. He didn’t see many ponies walking around, though here and there he and Meia would catch glimpse of clusters gathered around far-off gardens, likely those belonging to large families.

There was a noise in front of the carriage and Spike glanced out the window: an elderly pony, reminiscent of Granny Smith, had dropped a few things in front of the carriage while what could only be her grandfoals ran about this way and that. Moved at the sight of her tenderly trying to pick up the spilled items, Spike got out of the carriage and walked over to her. Without saying a word, he leaned over and began to help her pick up the things she had dropped, placing them in her bags for her. She smiled and uttered one small word: “gracias.”

She seemed like the kind of pony who had worked so hard all her life and had so little to show for it. So, having decided he had found one worthy enough, Spike went back to the carriage, retrieved the one hundred gold coins, and gave them to the old mare without so much as saying a single word. Then he got back in the carriage and rode off, leaving the elderly mare stunned at her sudden turn of good fortune.

Arriving at the main gate to the citadel, Spike showed the letter from Celestia to the stationed guards. With deep bows they opened the gates for the carriage, which promptly rolled inside. As soon as they came to a stop near the front doors, a tall and lanky stallion opened them and ushered them in.

“May I present Spike the dragon, and his friend...” he looked nonplussed at the disguised Chrysalis.

“Meia,” she said. “Meia Morphos.”

“Miss Meia Morphos,” the stallion finished, the name rolling off his tongue as if it sounded odd to him. A voice sounded as a pair of unicorns stepped out into the light.

“I welcome you and your friend to our humble estate,” the stallion said, taking a sweeping bow while a mare, clearly his wife, gave a graceful curtsey. “I am Carlos Almareconraddo Del Rivioso, and this is my wife, Isabella.”

“It is a pleasure making your acquaintance,” the mare said. “If you’ll please come with us, we’ll give you the royal tour of where you’ll be staying. The citadel is quite large, and I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.” Abruptly the two royal unicorns turned and began to walk away, their hooves clacking on the smooth limestone floors.

Spike and Meia glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. Meia simply shrugged her shoulders and followed after the pair, with Spike soon beside her once more. Well, at least they’d be staying in comfort for the time being: best to make the most of it.

Author's Notes:

Enjoy your partnership while it lasts, Spike. And Meia/Chrysalis/whatever you call yourself: good things come to those who wait, but wait too long and it will slip through your clutches.