He Who Stands On Vigil

The way to Canterlot, oh so familiar now, was this time simply insufferable. It looked like the time itself turned into the chewing gum, stuck to one’s shoe – it just stretched to the verge of simply unbelievable length.

“I’d be damned!” – swore Nick under his breath, beholding the landscape of Appleloosa gently flowing away behind the window.

“Shit takes just too much time.” – he went to the tambour and lit a cigarette, wincing slightly at the stabbing pain in his torn shoulder, that awoke and gnawed at him when he had to grab the handle in the wall not to fly face-first to the carriage floor, when the train jerked hard.

“Ну теперь, блядь, что стряслось?” – puffing clouds of smoke, he addressed the conductor.

“I cannot understand you, sir.” – he replied with dignity, ignoring the fact that Hawkri was smoking.

“Sure. What the hay was all that about – I mean, the jerk and all…”

“It is nothing unusual, sir – the railway junction here is old and worn, and so every time we pass it, the train acts… cranky.” – the aging stallion chuckled, ruffling up a bit his sideburns. – “That’s why we call it Old Cranky.”

“Er, thanks for the information, sir. When is the due time of arrival to Canterlot?”

“In five hours flat, sir. Are you okay?” – the conductor asked, concern in his voice, as he saw our hero frown involuntarily again.

“Sure, I’m all peachy here. Thank you, sir.” – Hawkri threw the cigarette butt away from the window, smiled to conductor and made his way back to his place.

It was not all peachy. The stitches in his arm and chest felt like there were thousands of needles pricked into them, and those needles were also white-hot. Stars began to fly in his sight, and Hawkri suppressed a groan, scratching his collar-bone area, trying to rub the pain away.

It helped, generally, accompanied by the Second Spell of Odhinn, that brought remedy to his pain, but the arm felt numb and useless, hanging like a whip.

“Guess this means I’ll have to wait” – sighed Nick, making himself comfortable on his seat and closing his eyes. “Better come over it quick.”

Morning in Canterlot was rather freezing and humid, which made Hawkri regret of never thinking about something warmer than some leather coat – even a hand-stitched one. His shoulder gripped at the chance to nag at him once again and ached like there was no tomorrow, making our hero groan openly.

“Сука, да успокойся же ты!” – he hissed out, making a beeline to what looked like restrooms and barging into the door with the sign “Stallions” on it.

Bending slightly above the sink, he threw off the coat and tugged at his T-shirt collar, observing the mess of what his body was.

This truly was a sight to behold – three deep, long, vicious ruts, running down from the left shoulder across the torso down to the very belly button. The edges of the wound were held together with the expert stitches of a qualified medic, but the view still was pretty repulsive. The reddish, feverous tint never came over, it just turned sickening blue-grayish at the edges. And it ached like Hell.

“Бляяяяаааааааааааааа~” – our hero drawled out, as if swears could bring relief. He palpated the ruts, wincing at his own touch. It stung pretty badly, as it should have – if you are nearly sliced in three parts with some chimera asshole. The most interesting part around was that Nick was still alive. But ask him now – and he’ll just shrug it off with a smile.

However, his wounds were clean, and he found that out. Good enough for him – no pus, no fester, less problems to tend. Good.

Pulling his garb on again and buttoning it all the way up – not to take any chances – Hawkri made his way further, to 24-hour café. His stomach now felt like a black hole, and he was in no state to deal with that.

“Anyone here?” – the answer to his inquiry was almost immediate, as a unicorn mare emerged behind the counter in no time.

“What can Ah eva do fer ya, sir?” – her accent was slightly harsh, Southern one – and that was nice.

“Er, I’d like something to eat, basically. Some human food, if you have something alike.”

“Juz flip through da menu, sir. We have da finest choice in all of da Cant’rlot, ya know!” – so much pride behind the simple fact. Okay.

Flipping through the tired and worn menu, Hawkri made up his mind for a mug of Americano coffee and a generous helping of cheese. Hell, he wouldn’t even care for a bread – just cheese, damn it!

“Sorry, lady…”

“It’s Roller, sir, High Roller” – the mare answered, obviously catching Hawkri’s drift.

“Eh, sure, miss High – can I smoke in here? I just can’t see the ashtray.”

“Why sure, sugercube – there ya’ll goin’!” – a simple ceramic ashtray was levitated to the table, wrapped in the greenish glow of High’s magic. Hawkri thankfully smiled at the mare and produced a cigarette, dragging deep and washing the smoke down with coffee.

“An’ ah juz wonderin’, what brought ya ta Cant’rlot? Ah mean, we hafn’t seen ya ‘umies round lately?” – High Roller took a seat, curiosity written bold on her muzzle.

“Just a… family issues.” – our hero muttered, slicing a generous amount of cheese and chewing it thoroughly before taking another gulp of coffee.

“Holy horseshoes, Ah neva heard of that ones like y’all havin’ a family back here’n’there! By tha way, where are y’all going from?”

“Ponyville.”

“My, one far away ride, sure as sugar! Ah mahself is from Appleloosa, ya’know…” – Hawkri was already growing tired with such a hyperactive mare. The next thing, I bet, she’ll wanna know my name, he mused to himself, pressing the cigarette butt in the ashtray.

“Anyways, Ah beg ya pard’n, sweetpie, Ah neva asked ya name.” – High Roller smiled with a doe eyes.

Hawkri sighed. “It’s Hawkri.”

“Whoa! That’s a mighty rad name, pardner!” – mare seemed overjoyed. Or was she just hopping on the bean, like Pinkie Pie, that pink crazy menace? Nah. Screw it.

“Twas great to have a chat and thanks for a coffee, but I must hit the road. See you around.” – Hawkri put a generous stack of bits onto the counter, which was his charge and tip included, pulled his coat up a bit and left the hospitable café with slightly crazed host.

What he understood next is that he never knew which way was the one he needed.

And the pain was getting all worse, strummed with the cold and humidity.

“Все говнистее и говнистее…” – Nick muttered under his breath, as he stammered his way to the nearest corner, folding in two and desperately trying to stop the ground from spinning all around like a crazy merry-go-round. Well, in fact, he was kind of multitasking, trying to keep his breakfast inside, light a cigarette with trembling fingers and not to go crazy with this shitload of pain he was exposed to.

“Gyah… Awwww, goddamn this! Fucking fuckitty fucker’s fuckness!!!” – he bellowed on top of his lungs, trying to just eject the pain with this roar.

Result was… pretty predictable. Some accidentally passing by ponies looked at him strange, a couple of them circled their hooves around the temple with an eye roll, and some just huffed and ignored, bringing their noses high. Yeah, that was the Canterlot – a hometown for some snobby sonsofamares.

When the pain decided to take a little break and the fever was subsiding slightly, Hawkri raised from his sitting posture and strode a few unsure steps forward, teeth gritting.

“Hey! Hey mister! You okay?” – Hawkri ignored the question, however; grasping involuntarily on his shoulder, he just strolled forth, seeing nothing. Bloody chimera must have had her claws unclean quite a while.

“Hey! I am talking to you!” – something gray with a hint of blonde appeared in his sights, and his ears detected the soft ruffle of folding wings.

“Be advised…” – he began stammering something out, but his knees decided to play ass on him, and he nearly fell, but was caught by something soft and furry.

“Hawkri! You hear me??” – came a concerned inquiry from a very familiar mare. Blonde mane, golden eyes, cross-eyed… Ditzy.

“Heya~… :3” – was all our hero could possibly muster.

A great bitch slap made him regain his composure a bit.

“Focus!” – Ditzy scolded angrily. That was totally not like her, but hey, when concerned, we’ll do anything, won’t we?

“Okay. Wow…”- Nick stood straight, rubbing his check. “That’s a punch, Ditz. How are you here?”

“Mail service. And you? You look terrible.” – Ditzy Doo, commonly known as Derpy Hooves, looked into Nick’s eyes square. Well, considering that her left eye was staring right up – looked creepy.

“Er, was just looking for a Committee of Family Affairs. Going to sort out all that shit with adoption or custody, whatever it is. I will not let Glitter down.” – Hawkri winced with pain, awoken once again.

“Hey, Ditz – is there any pharmacy around? I feel like shit, could use some drugs.”

“Well, you do. Yes, I’ll just lead you there!” – bubbled Derpy, unfolding her wings and taking flight.

Yes, that’s just Derpy.

The small pharmacy was really a quiet place. Flower Lawn, the provisor, was bored, so he was just basically solving some crossword puzzle that he had found under the counter.

“Ungh, it’s Star Dust again. She’s always leaving them there half-solved! What kind of mare she is?” – well, the scold came half-hearted. He appreciated everything that reckless Pegasus did for him, an ordinary Earth pony stallion, and he felt that he had grown to love her. Nevertheless, he just proceeded.

And right when he was guessing the last word, the doorbell rang and the strangest couple he’d ever seen strolled in. Derpy the mailmare and some bruising human, sporting a manticore jacket. Well, I’ll be.

“Good day, chef. I need painkillers. The strongest you’ve got.” – human leapt straight into action.

“Okay! What kind of pain you suffer?” – Flower Lawn asked professionally matter-of-factly, though never expecting the possible answer.

“This one.” – Hawkri had already raised his T-shirt to show the remnants of the attack. Flower Lawn was startled with what he had seen.

“Not as bad as they look, really, but the weather is killing me. I need painkillers to ease the pain, that’s all.” – Nick explained, smiling.

Without a single word, a stallion produced a pack of strong remedy and hoofed it over to Nick.

“How much?”

“On me.”- was all Flower could muster. He was so confused with the view.

“Stop that. Okay…” – Hawkri flipped the package in his hands, examining it. “This says fifty-three bits?” – without further tomfoolery, he produced a pouch, shook it, listened to the satisfying clang and put it to the counter.

“Good luck, Flowers!” – Derpy cheered, waving the provisor goodbye.

“yup.”

“I’ll be that shit is strong!” – Hawkri built a complicated frown, that made Derpy laugh as a crazy one.

“You look so silly!”

“Well, I’d look at your face when you’d have some of this.” – our hero grumbled, smile building on his face.

“Okay! Now, I shall go to these stronghold of snobbery and bureaucracy, shan’t I?” – Derpy nodded her approval, her ears drooping down.

“Okay. I’ll find my way. Thanks for yer help, Ditz. Muffins on me, eh?” – Hawkri hugged the gray mare, waving her goodbye as she decided to keep on with her route.

“Fine.” – our hero sighed out, standing before the pompous building.

“Бля, что дома, что тут – бюрократы шикуют.” – Nick chuckled darkly to his observation and strolled up the marble stairs.

The opulent interior was pretty standard – marble, gold, all kinds of flourishness around and, of course, the beefy security, with square jaws and dull eyes.

“Mah fuckin gog!” – our hero chuckled to himself.

“This one is really outstanding piece of architecture!”

The last phrase was quite loud, and it was done intently. Attracting some guard’s attention was a necessity right now, as our hero felt an urge to respond to some pretty natural needs.

“Sir, sir! I certainly need some help here!” – Hawkri began hopping on one leg like a moron, mimicking the necessity to pay a visit to the bathroom. One of the security stallions frowned, but trotted up to the goofing around Nick:

“What was that, sir?”

“I beg yer pard’n fer bugging ya, Officer, but Ah seriously need ta visit the dump.”  - replied our hero, putting on a makeshift Southern accent. Just for fun.

“Urgh… If you mean the restroom, it’s right that way – the furry hoof pointed the direction, and stallion turned to leave and avoid any further interactions with the strange bipedal moron, but Hawkri clutched him in his iron grip:

“Fair sir, Ah am mighty sorry fer buggin’ ya again, but could ya just lead me there? Ah’m not used ta all those big cities o’ yers…”

With a sigh and roll of his eyes stallion led the way, leaving behind the cackling partner and the grinning Hawkri, showing another guard a thumbs up behind the back of the first one. This all looked much like a silly, a really shitty one comedy, but no one mentioned – everybody was just too busy not giving a fuck.

“Bureaucracy is magic, they say…” – our hero mused to himself, slightly smiling at the idea.

The frowning guard led him to the opulently decorated door with a small sign, hanging slightly out from the wall; the sign was displaying the Mars symbol – a circle with protruding arrow, the shield and the spear.

“What you demand is here, sir…” – murmured the stallion, slightly shuffling his hooves as if he also needed the visit to the mentioned quarters.

“Why mighty thanks ye, fair sir! Y’all’ve juz rescued mah bladder frum burstin’ all around!” – this statement was met… loudly. The second guard simply boomed with laughter, laughing his arse off and flailing his hooves all around, while the escorting one turned as red as a beetroot and quickly retreated to his post.

“Аааатличная шутка, парень…” – Nick murmured to himself, slipping inside.

The meeting was to be held in the next two hours, and our hero had to find something to make himself busy for the time being. He landed his butt at the small armchair near the door to the meeting hall and grabbed a magazine from the nearest table. But his mind was far from reading.

“How is Glitter in there? Is she okay? Well, hope so. But still, I’ll have to get home. Twilight said, thirty moons should pass and then for three days I’ll have to get back to the lawn. Thirty moons… Two and a half years? Hm. And now I am already here for three months. Means, three moons. Damn. But still, how would I leave Glitter? Now she’s ‘bout five, maybe six years, not more. Say… Eight years when I go away? And what then? Orphanage? Fuck you, orphanage, no…” – such complicated thoughts were interrupted by the gentle cough. Hawkri lift his head to see the nice young mare, her gray, mousy mane tied up in bun. Well, she looked a lot like secretary.

“Beg pardon, sir – are you awaiting admission?”

“Er, kind of. I am waiting for the meeting of the Commission of Family Affairs to start.” – our hero replied, slightly confused with the question.

“Aw, okay… Can I have your name, please?” – the mare levitated a small clipboard and began magically shuffling through the papers.

“Nick Hawkri.”

“Yes, there it is – the request of custody over Sunrise Glitter? The meeting will begin in an hour, you would be invited. Cup of tea, maybe, coffee?”

“I’d love that, miss…”

“Backy. Just Backy.” – the mare smiled and turned back to her counter.

“Thanks, miss Backy.” – Nick sat back and patted his pockets. All his possessions were at place – the pack of cigarettes, a lighter, some money and a knife, sheathed and secured on the waist belt behind his back.

“Hope I won’t ever come to unsheathe that…” – grimly chuckled the man.

“Your coffee, please.” – Backy appeared as silent as a ghost, starting Nick.

“Thanks, beauty. By the way, Backy – is that a name like ‘Back Stab’?” – humored Nick, grinning ever so slightly.

The reaction was… pretty unpredictable. The mare smiled nervously, tugging on her collar, and a small bead of sweat slid down her neck.

“Hehehe…” – she giggled nervously and, sure as sugar, fake. “Noooo~”

“Anyway, thanks for a coffee. Much appreciate it.” – Hawkri smiled his own toothy scary grin, accepting the small cardboard glass of coffee. It was sweet and potent, and required some nicotine with that.

So, sitting on the rich marble porch and littering it with ashes mercilessly, Hawkri spat down to the pavement, hard.

“Завязывать надо с этим говном.” – sighed our hero, meaning his unhealthy addiction to smoking and washing down the bitterness of tobacco with a generous sip of coffee.

Cold marbles began to freeze his butt, and he quickly rose to his feet to prevent freezing off some of pretty important male assets. Downing the rest of coffee and finishing a cigarette, he tossed both into the trash can and rushed inside the building.

In half an hour he was called to the meeting, so he grabbed his bag, checked the folder with little Glitter’s documents, sighed, crossed himself and entered.

What he had seen confused him a bit. He was prepared to see the opulent, rich interior, but the sight before him was stunning, because it was opposite to his conceptions. It was humble, lest to say.

Up on the small podium was a king-sized table, where the Committee – five ponies, three stallions, two mares – sat, all sporting a ties and some kind of fancy flat caps with a polished badges on them. At the center, the middle-aged mare with a coat color of a coffee with cream and brown mane sat, smiling to the visitor.

“Good day, Mr. Hawkri. We’ve expected your visit. My name is Brass Quill, and I am the Chairman of the Committee of Family Affairs here, in Canterlot. This is the Secretary of Committee, miss Lily Springblossom…” – the Chairman mare waved her hoof to the younger mare, sitting to the left of her. – “And this is the Honourable Storm Wave, legal expert in custody and guardianship.” - the aging stallion with a missing eye bowed slightly.

Hawkri returned the bow, cleared his throat and began speaking, trying not to mention the pain, which have traitorously escaped the blockade:

“Venerable Commission, miss Quill – as you already know, I want to apply guardianship over the Sunrise Glitter, daughter of deceased Green Field, and I am here to sort out any complications that may occur of have occurred.”

“Beg your pardon, sir, but the legal system of family law of Equestria had never known any precedent of human-pony adoption or guardianship! How are we supposed to sort this out?” -  Honorable Storm Wave inclined, curiosity written on his muzzle.

“The other thing is that little miss Glitter has no other relatives, who could be legally obliged to raise her.” – Another stallion, a younger one, chimed in, flipping through the stack of papers.

“And most importantly, at which basis do you want to claim guardianship?” – the Chairman inquired.

Hawkri let out another deep sigh. Then he just took off his shirt and demonstrated the stitches to the Committee.

“Those, venerable Committee, are the remnants of the chimera attack, which have killed Green Field – Gods keep her soul – and which jeopardized the very life of little Sunrise. I do not know the laws of Equestria, but according to the laws of my motherland, any orphan should be proceeded to the relatives, if any exist, and otherwise be put to orphanage. I suppose the same is applicable to our situation. But for me an orphaning is not an option. I’ve promised this little filly I won’t let her down. Maybe I’ve never managed to save her mother. Is true, and this burden would stay with me, but I will not let her off.”

“Sir Hawkri, we understand the responsibility you feel for the destiny of this foal, and we sure are thrilled to see such a deed you’ve demonstrated, but the fact remains – you are of an alien species. You are from another world. And how do you suppose to raise the filly?”

“The same way as if she had been my own daughter.”

“Do you have the documents?”

“Yes.” – Nick handed the folder to the secretary, and stood waiting. The Committee shared the papers, discussed something for a brief minute and then Brass Quill spoke again:

“Well, from what we had found out, little Sunrise Glitter is now in Ponyville. Right?”

“Sure, Ponyville is her home.”

“She has a place to live?”

“She does.”

“And you?”

“I live with her. For the time being.”

“For the time being?”

“I have to return to my homeworld in twenty-seven months.”

“Then how do you suppose to raise the foal? Our legislation provides that guardianship will be held over the foal until it reaches maturity, which is at the age of twenty-one!”

“I will think of it. What I ask, no, what I beg for – is to allow me apply a guardianship.”

“Okay, let’s get to other things. Do you have a steady income, enough for necessities?”

“I do. I work at Ponyville Hospital and part-time at the forge.” – that was not all lies, as Nick truly had been working part-time at the forge.

“Alright. Can you provide a foal with education, medical license and insurance?”

“I did with the education – she is enrolled to the Ponyville Elementary and now her insurance is being processed.”

“Well, and the last one. We will require the most earnest answer. Are you a paraphiliac?”

“No.”

“Maniac?”

“No.”

“A pedophile?”

“No.”

“Any addictions?”

“Tobacco only. No drugs.”

“You’ve killed chimera barehanded?”

“No, I was armed with a small blade.”

“Are you sure you are ready for such a responsibility – to raise a foal?”

“I am.”

“The Committee requires to leave for a consultation. Please, leave the room, you will be invited.”

Hawkri bowed and left. The pain was growing stronger by the minute.

“Backy.” – the secretary mare nearly jumped, startled with our hero’s stealthy approach.

“Sweet Celestia! I nearly died!” – she scolded, shaking off her fear.

“Beg pardon. Can I have a glass of water, please?”

After having the demanded liquid, Nick took two pills of painkiller and winced with the bitter, tangy taste of medicine. The pain never wished to subside. It gnawed.

After ten minutes Lily appeared in the corridor:

“Mr. Hawkri – please, follow me.”

The Committee all seemed troubled. Hawkri’s gut began denouncing the shitty news. Well, the last was to hope his guts were shitty prophet.

“Mister Hawkri, the Committee of Family Affairs of Canterlot of Equestria hereby pronounces, that Sunrise Glitter, daughter of Green Field, is now under the guardianship and custody of Nick Hawkri, human. Stand closer, mister Hawkri, miss Springblossom will hand you the documents of adoption. However, you will now be subject to the revision of the Committee, held each two months. Is it all clear to you?”

“Absolutely clear, venerable Committee, miss Quill. Thank you. All of you.” – Hawkri accepted the folder of documents and smiled. He bowed deeply with his fist pressed to his chest.

“I thank all of you for this.”

“Go, Nick Hawkri, and be a good father to this filly.” – Storm Wave smiled, with warmth in his voice.

Then, sitting in the already well-known café, run by High Roller, Hawkri was sorting through the numerous papers, when he found something special. The small drawing, showing the filly – he understood that was little Glitter, a mare and a man. They were all smiling, standing near, and Nick felt a manly tear, watering his eyes.

That was the reason. They knew it. And he could not let them down.

The return to Ponyville never took long, as he dozed off and woke up only when the train was already passing the area of Sweet Apple Acres.

“Huh? Whazzdat?”

“We are arriving to Ponyville, sir.” – the familiar conductor smiled to Hawkri, slightly poking him in the shoulder to wake the man completely.

“Yeah, thanks, fellow…” – the dizzy Nick grabbed his stuff and fell off the train, right to the platform.

“Курва мать…”

“Listen, Twilight, I have some issues and I do need your help.”

“What’s that, Nick?” – the librarian lifted her head from the book, tilting it slightly in attention.

“I need job, Twilight. I mean, money, of course.”

“Then what’s the problem? You can always go pick some pockets, as you did – shamelessly, by the way!” – the lavender mare sneered.

Hawkri’s fist, pummeled to the table, made a heavy stack of books jump.

“Курва мать его, Twilight! This is serious! With all I can do, with all the skills I possess, trust me, I can sweep clean any bank in Canterlot and get away with that, and you know it. But now it is just another time…” – our hero sighed heavily, sweeping

his fingers around the table.

“I have a…”

“Hmm?”

“I have a daughter to raise. And that’s just it.” – Hawkri breathed out.

A smile graced on the librarian’s muzzle, as Twilight stepped up and hugged Hawkri.

“I’ll see what I can do.”