Seeking the Past (Through a Broken Spyglass)

The scratching of a quill on a page filled the room, followed by grunts of effort as a mare set about concluding her letter.

...I find myself amused and yet horrified by the things that I have seen so far, Princesses. How easily they accept the crises brought about by a single pony’s attitude! And… they… *forgive so easily. It is… so strange, finding myself fitting into this role so well, even if I have been doing it for a while, and yet, it is as though I have always been this way. Thank you for giving me this chance to fit in, to be seen as… somepony normal. I would never have been able to get this spell you have cast for me; I wouldn't have blended in without question. Neither would I have thought acting in such a fashion would bring me what I desired. I am forever grateful to you for giving me and, now, my foal a chance to grow up with normalcy, unlike my past would have hinted.*

If it weren’t due to your kindnesses, Princess Celestia and your agreed permission to allow me to stay here, Princess Luna, I don’t know if I would ever have found my cutie mark that day, or if I would ever have gotten a chance to stay here. Nor do I know if my foal would exist. I humbly offer to you the chance to name him or her, and name you god-mares. If you would rather not, I understand completely. If you do… thank you for the privilege… and no, Your Majesty, I haven’t forgotten your request to tone down my appreciation. I’m sorry, but it looks as though you’ll have to suffer through it.

Yours truly,

D.

With a sigh, the quill was laid back down, the pony’s mouth, while not used for such a purpose often and therefore somewhat sore, was familiar with such motions from long ago. Had another pony entered the room at that moment, the heavily pregnant mare would have somehow managed to spill the ink all over the parchment on the desk, but as they didn’t, the piece of paper found itself being rolled up and slid into one of the pouches in her saddlebags.

She headed out of the house she owned in Ponyville, but only after she’d taken a look in the mirror to ensure that the spell was still functioning, smiling at her gold-haired reflection. Then she made sure her saddlebags were organized using a method others would see as completely disorganized, a last-minute double-checking as she stepped through the door; and with that, she straightened out her grey wings and held them up, doing a few practice flaps. Today she would be doing the last work on her route until she was deemed by doctor ponies to be safe to fly, after her foal was birthed. After a few moments, instead of flapping in the normal way, she stood on her hind hooves and practiced flapping in the odd, almost circular way that no sane Pegasus would fly with; and she headed out, going slowly but surely, wavering up and down in her flight. It was much harder than it looked to fly that way normally, let alone being pregnant as she did, but the act was a labor of love that she undertook gladly, for it was her place to do so. It was her name, her town, her role in life. This was something she seized with all four hooves.

Many ponies familiar greeted her, calling out hello or stopping her a moment and asking if she were sure she should be flying so late into pregnancy, and she replied that it was fine. "Don’t remember what they said, so many big words, but today’s my last day doin’ the mail. Umm… think they’ll miss me?" To which she usually got a reassurance that nopony could deliver mail quite like she did, which, while it was a slight insult considering that it pretty much meant that she was horrible at it, was meant kindly and was in fact honest, so she didn’t mind it at all. Sometimes they actually said that they would miss her, and these were the best reassurances.

“Watch out!” Somepony cried as she started making her rounds. They referred to the way she was tossing each seemingly-carelessly flung, but correctly chosen, letter towards the houses of the ponies that expected said mail.

“There she goes again! I’d get mad at her for breaking my window yesterday but, well, there’s something so innocent and charming about her that I just can’t stay angry at her,” one stallion remarked.

“Yeah… if it wasn’t for that, I think half of Ponyville would have shouted at that Ditzy Doo by now,” the mare beside him agreed. “Have they figured out who the sire is?”

“No,” he replied sadly. “There are a lot of rumors… but I don’t think we’ll ever find out unless she wants us to. I just hope she can handle the burden on her own.”

As the duo murmured to themselves, Ditzy was busy delivering mail, working to cover her route before it got late, so that she could visit the Library where Twilight still studied and stayed sometimes. Spike lived there full-time, still, but Twilight was getting called to the castle in Canterlot more and more often.

Ditzy, however, was in luck. Twilight was gone; there would be no questions asked. Ditzy was invited in by a surprised Spike, who asked what she needed.

“Sorry to bother you, Sprike,” Ditzy mumbled in her quiet, apologetic way, knowing the mispronounced name would seem accidental due to her forgetfulness or slightly nasal tones. “Somepony addressed a letter to Princess Celestia, and my wings are already sore, do you think you could send it for me? Don’t think I can manage Canterlot today, an’ I don’t wanna leave it to somepony else.”

Spike smiled at her and sent the letter without protest, before inviting Ditzy to stay a while and have a glass of water and rest, sympathetic to how much work it must be for her to be flying around all day.

“Oh, thanks, no thanks, Spike. I’m almost done anyway. Bye!” She said, giving him a hug with one wing, before heading out again, ready to go home... or... She had earned the dandelion sandwich, she decided. Maybe even a muffin. With a jingling of bits in her saddlebag, she set out to get a snack.