Two Fillies and a Griffon

by JuneLuxray2

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Romance, Slice of Life
Length: 2103

(Sequel to Rhubarb) Merry May and Rhubarb Scales want a child, but it seems impossible to have their own. They adopt and soon after Merry, to her surprise, becomes pregnant with Rhubarb's child. They start their own bizarre family.

(Sequel to Rhubarb) Merry May and Rhubarb Scales want a child, but it seems impossible to have their own. They adopt Gauri, the albino griffon. Soon after, Merry, to her surprise, becomes pregnant with Rhubarb's children. The how of the pregnancy is strange and the foals are even stranger.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-29 02:10:02 UTC

Chapter One

Merry May stared at the little white stick on the top of the toilet seat. Another blue minus sign. Another negative. The green pegasus sighed and half-closed her eyes and pushed the stick into the trash bin. She washed her hooves in the sink and slowly walked into the kitchen, where her husband was making dinner.

Everything was almost perfect. Merry May had expressed the desire for a foal. Rhubarb had no protests about this, though he told her he doubted changelings and ponies were a compatible mix to cause pregnancy. Nevertheless, Merry held that even if she couldn't have a foal of her own, they'd adopt. So they bought themselves a nice home and moved out of Rhubarb's cramped apartment. It was a lovely home; a big backyard, a good kitchen (something Merry's hubby refused to go without,) three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a living room. The house was a short walking (or flying) distance away from Rhubarb and Merry's jobs. The exterior looked like any other normal home in Ponyville. Humble on the outside, cozy on the inside.

A cookie-cutter home just perfect for a family.

The kitchen had linoleum floors and tan walls, complete with an oven and stove, a deep sink, a microwave, and a dish washer. All sorts of shiny pans hung from racks on the ceiling and herbs and spices hung on a rack, a recipe book underneath the rack. Rhubarb had decorated to his heart's desire; decorative pot holders hung from the walls from all different cities he and his wife had visited. "What Happens in Las Pegasus Stays in Las Pegasus." "I heart Manehattan." "I club Bostpony." and more.

Rhubarb really was the biggest homebody in town. He decorated the rest of the house in a similar fashion: corny ceramics and trinkets, paintings and souvenirs. At the moment he was whistling to himself as he tossed a pan and flipped the ingredients inside and threw a dash of a spice over it. It sizzled and popped and hissed as veggies inside cooked. He turned his attention briefly to a rice cooker as his wife walked in, head hung low, eyes still half-lidded. Her lips were turned downward and she took a seat at the counter, leaning against the top under the kitchen lights above. Her right hoof met her face as the other one leaned on the counter top. Back hooves swung back and forth idly and her pink eyes looked down.

Her husband looked at her and looked away, already knowing what was upsetting her. She had been trying with the pregnancy tests for weeks now with no pink plus. Not a single positive. He decided not to even ask; it would just upset her more. Finally he put the rice into a bowl and put some of the stir fry on top. He gave the first bowl to his wife and then got his own and they both sat down and ate.

Merry weakly smiled at him. Rhubarb gave a silly smile back and she giggled a little and they began to eat. Usually they chattered while they ate, but silence had ruled while they ate. Conversation would come after they had dinner. As the mare finished her meal, she looked up at her still chewing mate. "Rhubarb, darling?"

He finished chewing. "Yes, dear?"

"Tell me again how changelings mate."

Merry May knew it well by now and Rhubarb knew she knew it well. She just liked hearing it. Rhubarb cleared his throat and began reciting the explanation. "Well, now...Changelings are viviparous creatures, just like ponies." Merry May smiled slightly as his voice was heard. "They are assigned partners upon reaching adult age for breeding. These partners are picked for maximum genetic diversity and romance has no part in it. Unlike us. We have romance. And that's better than anything." Rhubarb said. Merry May playfully pushed him in the cheek with her hoof.

"Honey, just keep talking."

He laughed. "Right. Changelings are supposed to have no more than two babies per couple, no less. Two is the magic number." Rhubarb rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about it. "Anyways, those who can't breed...nevermind." he was about to skip this part in fear the fact they were yet unable to conceive would upset the missus. She shook her head.

"Keep going. I don't want you to stop." Her eyes flickered up to him and he slowly nodded.

"Okay, but if you want me to stop at any time, just let me know. Those who are unable to breed are not disrespected, but instead assigned to bring young up into adulthood. The young are taken from their parents immediately after birth." He shoved his empty bowl aside. "They're trained from childhood for whatever job they are assigned."

"What job were you assigned?" Merry May's eyes were wider, pupils locked onto him. She knew this, too, but just wanted to hear it. Rhubarb knew and he told her nonetheless.

"I was brought up to be a scout," he said calmly, "the scouts patrol to find villages possible for taking over and to observe victim behavior to properly blend into a society prior to takeover."

"And that's how you got to like cooking?"

"Yes. That's how." He nodded, a bit nostalgic. "I remember first peeking into the window on my first trip, still a small colt, and finding a pie cooling under the window and somepony inside peacefully making their supper. I stole the pie, stuck my mouth in, and..." He let out an elongated, dreamy sigh. "It was the best thing I had ever put in my mouth. It was a strawberry rhubarb pie and right then I wanted more, even if it meant I had to make it myself. Every time after that I secretly watched that one villager cook every day just to learn. I also stole their recipe book. If I ever find them again I'll have to apologize for theft." He grinned and shook his head.

Merry loved seeing him be happy over the only childhood memory he had that wasn't bad. Finally his eyes drifted back to her and he continued. "Anyways, changelings considered genetically inferior are barred from breeding and having a partner. They are dishonored by the hive. I was considered like this. I got away with my dessert delights for years until they finally caught me when I was a teenager." A sigh. "Caught me with my face shoved into a cherry pie." His eyes were bright and so was his smile. "A few years ago that would've embarrassed me, but now it's hilarious."

His wife snickered and held his hoof. "And now you have a partner. Me!" she declared. Her hubby snickered too and his ears fell back slightly and he blushed.

"Yes. I have you. So I was banned from breeding."

"How does the queen mate?" Merry asked. She knew this too, and didn't care. The fact they were talking made her feel better, even if she already knew how. Rhubarb gave in.

"Yes, the queen. The queen produces a single child in her entire lifespan, and the child is always a female. Her mate is chosen for being the most genetically superior, most loyal, cunning, and ruthless. Basically, the most evil one." The stallion grimaced. "To be chosen is a great honor, and there is no greater honor than being the queen herself. The queen raises the princess herself and when she passes away the princess takes over, even more vile than her mother." he explained. And then a sly smile came onto his face. "And then mingling, especially romantically and not just lustfully, with another race...is considered treason and a capital offence."

Merry squealed with delight. "You bad colt, you." she teased, punching him on one of his forelegs. Rhubarb was grinning as well.

"I know. I'm such a rule-breaker. Forget the Changeling po-lice." By now May was thoroughly laughing and giggling.

"You're such a dork, Rhubarb. You are the ultimate dork."

"Yeah, but I'm your dork. You married me. That makes you a dork too by association." Rhubarb stated proudly.

"Shut up, you dork!" Both were laughing loudly, squealing and snorting. Finally after calming down, Rhubarb stood up.

"I'll put our dishes away and clean them--"

"Oh no, you don't." Merry sternly stared at him. "Is there anything you're forgetting to do?"

"...No I don't know what you're talking about okay I'll get on cleaning those right--"

"Take your potion Zecora gave you!" She opened the drawer beneath her and pulled out a vial of clear and goop-y medicine. "This is supposed to make your wings grow back. Take it. Zecora's being really nice by making this for you."

Rhubarb whined. "But Ma-a-ay, I don't wanna. It tastes awful and this is all that's come from taking it for two miserable weeks." He turned to her and poked his back. Two very petite pieces of what was supposed to be wings growing back, less than a bit long each and half as wide as a bit. Under no normal circumstances would they come back, but Zecora had been stubborn and insisted on trying to grow them back. Two weeks of medicine had produced tiny, useless stubs.

Merry held up the vial. "I don't care if you're getting microscopic wings after two weeks. The fact you're getting anything from her potion is enough for me to insist you keep taking it. I want you to fly with me again. I haven't flown with you for over two years and I want you to be a flying buddy again." Her eyes narrowed. "Do it for me."

Rhubarb Scales, unable to refuse his wife, sadly took the vial and after a moment of hesitation, popped the lid open and gulped it down. He coughed and gagged. "Oh my Celestia, it's awful. Be right back, dying on the inside." Rhubarb pulled over his glass of water and down it went to wash the taste out of his mouth. Merry kissed him on the cheek and picked up the dishes.

"Because you're such a good colt for taking your medicine, I'll do the dishes. Even if you are a big baby."

"Thanks." he said weakly, coughing and still wincing.

The rest of the evening went by quietly and not any more unusual that what was usual. Eventually they both went to bed, but as soon as Merry May fell in bed, she was chased by dreams of little hooves pattering across the ground and the cheering of excited children. Cribs, diapers, rattles, and dummies. Smiles and giggles and cries of babies. Toys astray all over the floor and toddlers beginning to talk. Mommy and Daddy. She would be a mommy and Rhubarb would be a daddy.

Finally she woke up at two in the morning, in the hooves of her husband, who was hugging her in his sleep. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were tired. She kept closing her eyes to no avail. Sleep wouldn't come for her; it mocked her and was fleeting. "How cruel." she thought. Sleep was cruel for abandoning her. Merry May frowned. She knew well that she wanted a child, and she would adopt if she had to. But surely it could wait until later. Wait until she was not half-asleep and trying to become fully asleep. It was then wild idea came to mind. One "let's go do this today even with no warning" idea. She began prodding her husband. "Rhubarb, wake up. Wake up!"

"Huh?" He yawned loudly and his eyes cracked open. "What is it, sweet-"

"Today. We're taking the day off and going to the orphanage. We're going to start the adoption process and we're going there in the morning." Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him. "We're doing this. I want a child. We've got a room already set up and it's collecting dust."

Rhubarb blinked his eyes and for at least a few seconds her stared back and said nothing. Finally he slowly nodded. "Okay," he said softly, "we'll go."

"We'll go." Merry said, locking eyes with him. He stared back for a few moments and he yawned again and closed them.

"We'll go." he confirmed. His eyes closed again and he began snoring loudly. Merry was wide awake and she looked around the dark room. A child or a baby. Soon...she would be a mother. An adoptive one. Still a mother. A good mother. And Rhubarb would be a father. She sighed and closed her eyes too, drifting off into her dreams of being a mother.