We never had a single fight...
Some ponies say work is the hardest thing you’ll do in life. I would like to say that they’re completely wrong. Tuesdays on their own are grueling enough. They’re not quite like Monday where you’re still rested from the weekend; and not near enough to the end of the week that you can look forward to some time off after you finish work. But when you have a wife and two children at home, clocking out is when the hard part begins.
That Tuesday was especially hard, however. I thought I’d found some small reprieve from the stresses of working a double shift and perhaps a chance to sit down and read the newspaper for once.
No such luck.
I had barely sat down and opened the first page of my intended reading when my daughter came up to me. She wasn’t crying, screaming or whining, but I could immediately tell something was wrong. You develop a sense for that after over a decade’s worth of parenting two bright young foals. She looked shocked, perhaps a little morose; as if somepony had told her that the author of her favorite series had died.
For a brief moment I thought of letting it go. If it was important, she would talk to me, wouldn’t she? I got through the first page of the paper—a boring report about how good teachers were hard to find and another scandal involving the young Prince Blueblood—before I remembered the conversation I’d had with my wife Star.
“Night,” she’d said, “Twilight isn’t an extrovert like Shining. She’ll keep everything inside if you don’t talk to her.”
With a soft sigh I put down the paper and looked across the room. Twilight had settled down on the plush carpet in front of the hearth and was seemingly mesmerized by the flames. My muscles protested when I got up, reminding me that I should have gone to bed the moment I came home. But my daughter took precedence.
The should-have-been-simple act of walking across the room was made incredibly difficult by the incredible mess that had been made by the kids. A hoofball, several training rackets and pieces of padded armor had carelessly been discarded around the sofa, along with a staggering amount of books. I could picture Star scolding me were she to come back from her work vacation that second. Luckily, she wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.
As I got closer, I could see Twilight shaking softly, almost imperceptibly. I groaned and stretched; sitting on the floor was going to do a number on my legs. I lay down next to her and she immediately leaned against my side; seeking shelter from whatever was plaguing her mind no doubt.
“Hey, kiddo. How was school today?” That wasn’t what was bothering her; it never had been. If anything, school was too easy.
“It was okay,” she responded, seemingly disinterested. “Miss Goodall doesn’t want me to raise my hoof when she asks a question of the class anymore.”
I couldn’t help but smile with pride and ruffled her mane with a hoof. “That’s because you’re too smart for that school.”
She merely shrugged and leaned into me a little harder.
Oh, how much easier this conversation would have been with Shining Armor. I could ask him about hoofball practice and get an entire day’s worth of comments and observations with a joke mixed in here or there; that always included whatever was bothering him so we could help him through it. Twilight, however, I was going have to ask more directly.
“Twilight, what’s wrong, kiddo?”
She mutely shook her head and pressed harder, like she were trying to disappear into my coat. I wrapped a foreleg around her and pulled her over until she was resting in between my forelegs and I could look her in the eyes; they were glistening with unshed tears.
“Twilight...” I hadn’t meant to sound admonishing, but I let my exhaustion get the best of me for a moment. Why couldn’t she just tell me what was wrong?
“Daddy?” She asked timidly. “Does Shiny hate me?”
The question caught me by surprise. Normally the two of them were inseparable; laughing, playing, sharing cookies Star Sparkle had made. I opened my mouth, closing it again when I realised I had no words ready in reply. It was as though asking the question had been the breaking point for Twilight and her tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks. I did the only thing I could think of; I held her close and shhhh’d her like I had always done when she was little. Or at least littler.
We sat there for at least three minutes before I found the right words. “Of course he doesn’t hate you, sweetie. Why would you ever think something like that?”
“W-well, I... I...” She sniffed. “T-this afternoon, a-at school. I wanted to give him a hug when he came to get me, b-but he... he...” She didn’t finish her sentence, instead choosing to stifle a cry against my chest.
“What did he do, Twilight?”
“H-he pushed me away and said that I was embarrassing him,” she said, crying even harder.
I held her to my chest to let her cry herself out and hugged her close. “Twilight,” I waited for her to look at me and gave her a smile. “Shining doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t like hugs as much as you and I do.”
“But why not?” she asked while I dried her tears.
I smiled again. Her fillyish innocence made the world seem a whole lot less complicated than it was; especially here in Canterlot where a stiff upper lip was almost a requirement. “Because he’s a growing stallion, and he’s afraid that other ponies will think that he’s weird if you hug him.”
I stroked her mane while she thought about it, which seemed to help relax her a little. “But he’s my big brother best friend forever,” she said, frowning. “Why would that be weird?”
Another sigh escaped me, briefly wishing that I could change the world so my daughter wouldn’t have to be confronted with these kinds of things. “Because many ponies that live here frown on that sort of thing.”
She thought about that for a moment, scrunching up her face in that way that always made me laugh. My little genius daughter. It was no wonder she didn’t understand; the sophisticated and intricate rules of social interaction didn’t make sense. They weren’t logical, just stigmatised.
After a moment she smiled up at me. “Well, those ponies are silly,” she said, briefly sticking out her tongue. “And I’m not going to stop hugging when I grow up.”
I gave her a kiss on her forehead next to her horn and hugged her again. “That’s my girl.”
“Twily?”
Twilight looked around me while I glanced over my shoulder. There in the door opening was Shining Armor, treating the both of us to an apologetic smile.
Twilight hopped out from between my forelegs and cantered up to her big brother while he nervously watched her approach. “Twily, I’m so—”
“It’s okay!” Twilight interrupted him. “I understand, but...” She looked down at the floor for a second and scuffed the floor with her hoof. “Would it be okay if I still hugged you when we’re at home?”
I watched Shining scoop her up and hug her tightly, with Twilight doing the same to him. She was so small compared to him, and yet out of the two of them, she gave the bigger hug. He lost his balance and landed on his back with Twilight on top of him and laughed. “Of course, Twily. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
I got up, listening to Twilight tell him it was okay while I stretched and groaned once more. I really needed some sleep.
“Shining, Twilight... your mother is coming home tomorrow, so I want the two of you to clean up everything you left lying around in the living room.”
“Okay, Dad.” Shining made a shooing motion with his hooves
“Okay, Daddy,” Twilight echoed her brother. She wiggled her rear for just a second before jumping from his belly onto the floor.
I walked over to them and caught both of them in a hug. “And you need to clean up your rooms as well. Now, I need to go to bed if I want to get up in the morning so I need the two of you to promise me you’ll do it.”
Both of them groaned and I had to suppress my laughter; some things never changed. I looked at Shining and waited for a nod, moving my gaze to Twilight after he had given it to me. She nodded as well and hugged me again.
“Good night, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, Twilight. Goodnight, son.”
“Goodnight, Dad.”
I had to drag myself up the stairs, listening to my children talking amongst themselves, quickly and easily laughing and playing with each other again. Each and every one of my muscles was aching by the time I reached my bed, but I fell asleep with a smile on my face. Being a father is harder than being an employee, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Author's Note
It's a little weird to have put so much of myself in Twilight here... More hugs please?
