All The Ladies In Waiting
All The Ladies In Waiting
All The Ladies In Waiting
By Terse
“Hey, dad?”
Orion was silent for a moment as they turned the corner towards the entrance to the grand hall. The imposing wooden double doors, thrown open in celebration of the grand occasion, loomed large and intimidating ahead of them; Twilight couldn’t help but flinch a little at the thought of quite literally crossing the threshold between her old life and the new one that awaited her, only just managing to avoid stumbling over her own hooves. Behind her, Spike, lost in dazed contemplation, bumped into her backside, reeling back for a moment before shaking his head and returning to idly following along in bedazzlement.
The blue unicorn couldn’t help but grin, starry mustard eyes glittering with mirth and joy. The age on him felt palpable - wrinkles all over his face, mane and tail shot through with gray, creaky old bones barely managing to plod along - but the sight of his beautiful daughter, all dolled up in the same gown and bridle Dazzle had been wearing on the day of his marriage, was enough to fill him with revitalising energy.
Orion had never thought he’d see the day he’d finally be able to hand his only little girl over to someone else, someone who would hopefully take his little filly in, make her happy, and maybe someday give him a grandfoal of his own.
The thought rankled a little in his mind, in a way he felt was completely understandable. She’d been daddy’s darling little girl for so long, and he’d thought she’d always be that way. Suddenly losing her to someone else’s love and affection struck a jealous chord in his heart, one that sang with notes of fear and apprehension, for her and for himself.
But every time their eyes made contact, he couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his own. She looked amazing. Her star-spangled ears danced merrily with anticipation, and though it seemed she could barely stand on her own four hooves, her eyes, though fearful, were resolutely trained on the doors ahead of them.
The elder unicorn slowed to a halt, raising a single hoof and gesturing for Twilight to stop. She did, though quizzical; Spike caught himself at the last moment, falling into place next to Twilight with the hem of her wedding dress still clutched tightly in his tiny dragon claws (sharpened specially for the occasion).
“Twilight, before we go inside...” he paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words. The twin purple creatures, mare and dragon alike, cocked their heads in unison.
“Dad, I wanted to ask you something-”
“Honey, let me finish,” he interrupted, closing his eyes and nodding for silence. Both Twilight and Spike knew the drill, settling down for the long, boring lecture they knew was to come.
“And right before you’re about to get married and all,” Spike whispered, holding a claw in front of his mouth to hide the movement. Orion took a deep breath; Twilight simply tittered.
“Okay,” Orion began, exhaling heavily, “I’m going to tell you the same thing my dad told me when I was getting married, first of all.” A momentary lapse in the conversation. “You’re probably really nervous right now, and that’s okay. Everyone is nervous when they choose to make the greatest commitment of their lives, and there isn’t an easy out from here.”
“We don’t have much time, dad,” Twilight interrupted, rolling her eyes. Orion smiled at that.
“Always so impatient, my little sugar plum,” he said soberly, tears beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes. “Driven to be the best you can be. I can’t believe I’m losing you.”
“You’re not losing me, dad,” she sighed. “I’ll still be your little girl, you know that.”
“I know that, but it’s different,” he shot back, blinking repeatedly. “When you’re with someone your first priority is them. When you have kids, they’ll be your numero uno. Where does that leave your mother and I?”
“Harassing them, probably, you old fussbudgets!”
That got a laugh out of everyone.
“I hope so,” Orion said, wiping away the tears beginning to stream down his face. “I hope we’re around, then, to be there for you. We’re getting old, baby, we might not be here much longer. I’m just glad I was here for the day we finally managed to pawn you off on some poor pony!”
“Don’t say that, dad,” Spike muttered, shaking his head. Orion leaned over to clap him on the shoulder, again smiling that same serene smile.
“Chin up, my boy,” he said, carefully lifting Spike’s head to meet his own, eye-to-eye. Taking a step back, he stared at Twilight, herself altogether not much better off than Spike. “And you, Twilight, this is important. Are you listening?”
“Yes, dad,” they chorused in unison. Orion dutifully noted that Spike’s young voice was beginning to crack a little. They’d have to have a heart-to-heart talk later on. Whether it was out of sorrow, or adolescence, Orion didn’t know.
“If I’m not here tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that,” he said, “then I want you to know that the only things you really have in the world are each other. You’re family, remember? And family comes first.”
“We know, dad,” the two groaned again.
“But there’s more than that,” Orion continued, unabashed. “You’ve got your friends now, and your lives, and you may even have children in future. There’s only one piece of advice I want to give you, okay? I could talk for all the time in the world, but you don’t want to listen to me ramble on during your wedding procession, I’ll bet.”
Decidedly emphatic nodding was enough of an answer for that question, Orion supposed with a grumble.
“Just make sure that whatever happens...”
Suddenly, a fit of choking coughs wracked the older pony’s frame, and he fell backwards, wheezing and puffing like a blocked-up chimney stack.
“Dad!” The mare and whelp cried, rushing forward to help Orion to his feet. He chuckled through the coughing fit, easing himself back into place beside Twilight as the sensations slowly ceased in his throat.
“It’s okay, I’m fine,” he croaked, grinning again. “Just remember what I told you. Family comes first. Promise me you’ll always be there for each other.”
Twilight and Spike took a long look at each other. Orion didn’t know quite what was going through their minds: his blood daughter, the most precious thing in his world, or his adopted son, the apple of his foggy, misted eyes. He felt a little weary, and deep in his heart, he knew that when fatigue finally came to claim his soul, they’d need each other; he hoped that their life experiences together had forged a strong enough bond for them to soldier on after that. They would need it.
“Are you ready to go, my perfect little girl?”
Twilight nodded, grim and determined once more. In front of his eyes, Orion saw the proud, talented, mature mare melt away, replaced by a tiny purple filly, gasping and struggling for life, eyes brimming with burning determination; on the first day she’d touched his hoof with her own, a tiny little touch that kick-started the spark of paternal love between them, he’d made a vow never to let her lose that will for life.
Twenty years later, he felt certain he’d kept it. He’d done right by his girl.
Falling back into place in total silence, the trio proceeded towards the open doorway, and through it. Orion heard the wedding march begin to play, an old song that had greeted him on the day he’d first walked down the aisle, and the feelings of loss, ecstasy, sadness, and interminable hope for the future that gripped the very essence of his heart, was enough to remind him of his own father-in-law. A sudden surge of sympathy rushed through him for the deceased stallion, the first he’d felt in a long time. All he wanted was to grab Twilight in his hooves and run away with her, take her away somewhere where she’d never be hurt or tainted by others. Carefully, and with sobs ripping themselves quietly from his throat, he pushed those feelings aside, content to revel in the happiness of the occasion.
In front of them, at the altar, stood a group of ponies, each with indeterminate expressions on their faces save one, whose happiness was almost tangible in the stark aura of the grand church hall. Even the Princess had attended, officiating the ceremony with her glorious presence, but her eyes strayed to Twilight and only Twilight, an almost maternal expression of tranquil love and calm pride etched onto her wondrous, divine features.
Next to her, the elderly frame of his own wife glowed with fierce elation and passion. She’d been waiting for this day all the same, and now she and Twilight shared a brief glimpse of each other, and small, pure smiles spread themselves across their faces.
This was it. This was their moment.
As Twilight took her place by the groom’s side, Orion moved to stand with Dazzle, distancing himself from the centre stage, and finally letting go of his daughter’s life.
When she finally looked back over at him, he mouthed “I love you”, with a fond smile.