Baby Limestone Rides to War

by CoffeeMinion

Rating: everyone
Tags: Limestone Pie, Random, Slice of Life, Igneous Rock, Pets, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1699

With one brand-new baby sister and another on the way, young Limestone Pie is mad as Tartarus… and she's not going to take it anymore!

One cold morning, a small grey filly crested the low hill at the edge of her family's farm, sneering down at the smoky swamp below as she sucked furiously on a squeaky yellow pacifier.

She was just old enough to understand that the arrival of her little sister Maud made her the "big girl" now... and she didn't like that one bit. Even worse, she'd heard mommy and daddy whisper that another was on the way.

But down there, in the swamp, was the means to end this madness. All she needed was to grit her teeth, toddle forward, and take it.

A cute and silly drabble inspired by the cover art, and proofread by hawthornbunny!
Featured on FimFiction 8Dec.2016-9Dec.2016 :heart:
Also featured by Seattle’s Angels :coolphoto:

Published 2016-12-08 03:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-12-08 03:00:01 UTC

Heck hath no fury like a filly scorned

The Pie family rock farm was often thought of as an idyllic home for one of Equestria’s most solid families. However, one less-known fact about the farm was its proximity to a great swamp filled with pygmy alligators.

Being ambush predators, but rather slow and small ones at that, the gators found little opportunity to expand their diets beyond the occasional lamed bird or unobservant frog. And being unaccustomed to facing serious competition from other predators in the region, they themselves had grown slow, weak, and complacent in the face of possible change.

One cold morning, change came in the form of a small grey filly sucking furiously on a squeaky yellow pacifier. She crested the low hill at the edge of her family's farm with slow, toddling strides, and gazed behind herself for just a moment.

“Dubid Aud,” she muttered through the pacifier.

She set off down the hill toward the smoky swamp, scrabbling to keep her footing through the many spots where dirt gave way to rocks and gravel. Her hooves kicked-up little cascades of falling stones as she went, which made a peaceful roll-crunch sound as they scattered down toward the swamp.

Limestone sneered as she noticed a hoof-full of small gators poke their heads up out of the swamp, doubtlessly alerted by the sound. They stared back up at her with curiosity, and cocked their heads in unison, perhaps confused by the sight of potential prey intentionally heading toward them.

The gators brought their heads around to look at each other. After a while, one of the gators turned back to look at Limestone, then started a slow, crawling gait toward her.

Limestone watched all this impassively. She felt a solitary pang of doubt in her plan when she saw the gator moving to intercept her. However, she looked down, studied the ground, and smiled as she spotted and picked up a decent-sized rock.

The gator seemed to notice this. It slowed its advance, and looked back toward its fellows. It even seemed to sag a little when it realized all of them had vanished back into the swampy water.

It turned back to Limestone, shook itself a little, and continued its march toward peril.

Limestone and the gator stopped mere hoof-lengths from each other. They sized each other up and down, each trying to gauge how the other was going to react.

At length, Limestone brought her spare forehoof up, removed the pacifier, and pointed it at the gator.

“I’mma wide you,” she declared.

The gator possessed only a rudimentary grasp of audible communication, but it had seen enough determined ponies with upraised rocks to gather that the jig was up. It gulped, then lowered its head, hoping that, as a worst-case scenario, its death would be quick and relatively painless.

It was less sure what to make of the situation as it felt the pony climbing up onto its back. Out of instinct and confusion, it brought its head around to look at her.

Then Limestone jammed the pacifier in its mouth.

The gator sucked on it for a few moments, now well and truly outside its realm of life experience, and feeling no small quantity of trepidation about that. And yet, the feeling that the pacifier gave it was… soothing. Agreeable.

Limestone pulled it out again and pushed it back into her own mouth. Then she kicked the gator’s flanks, spurring it into motion.

Inwardly, the gator felt a sense of loss at having the pacifier torn from it so abruptly; and yet, it also now knew that such was a pleasure that the world could offer it, and it felt motivated to serve its newfound pony master, if only for the fleeting chance at another taste of that sweet ambrosia. For her part, Limestone was just grateful that the gator’s clawed feet were able to find better purchase on the rocky slope than Limestone’s stubby hooves had done.

As they crested the hill, Limestone reared up and gripped the nape of the gator’s neck. This forced both of them up into a suitably dramatic pose, augmented by the hot ball of the rising sun behind them.

“Chaaaaaawge!” Limestone bellowed, gritting the pacifier in the left side of her mouth as she hefted her small rock with her upraised right forehoof.

The gator gulped again and made its best attempt at galloping across the open field between the slope and the farmhouse. The effect was somewhat muted by its short legs and the not-inconsequential mass of Limestone on its back, but it at least managed to move a little faster on the flat, open terrain, than it had on the slope.

A sound of clinking pots, pans, and utensils from the house made Limestone scowl deeper, and kick the poor gator again. This didn’t produce a noticeable change in its speed, but it did make her feel a little better.

They stopped before the short series of steps up from the ground to the farmhouse’s front porch. Limestone eyed the steps, and then the gator. After a moment, she dismounted, and helped the gator clamber its way up onto the porch. She also walked over to the screen door, levered it open, and… paused, frowning, as she looked around for the missing doorstop.

Eventually, she sighed, and jammed the rock she was carrying under the door to keep it open. Then she walked back to the nervous-looking gator, remounted, and gave another throaty cry of war.

Limestone and the gator breached the perimeter with a disappointing lack of resistance. She seethed as they crossed unnoticed through the mudroom, then the living room, then down the hall. She pulled hard, forcing the gator to turn the corner toward the kitchen; she also leaned down closer to its back and gave it yet another kick in the flanks, hoping to maximize speed. As before, the effect was limited by the poor creature’s limited carrying capacity, but it continued giving her an earnest effort.

Limestone searched the kitchen as she came storming into it, hoping to spot the ones who’d perpetrated the great injustices of her life upon her: Mother. Maud.

“Daughter?” said a deep voice.

Limestone’s will faltered only slightly as she saw her father, the amber-coated Igneous Rock, turn to face her from his position near the stove. She still didn’t understand why he stood there every morning and made something black and awful to drink. He always smiled when she asked about it, though; and that made her angry.

Seeing him now in the place of her intended adversaries made her angry, too. She roared, or gave a small, adorable attempt at it, and braced herself as she charged full-force into one of his legs.

“What the…?”

The gator simply plowed face-first into him… and stopped, stunned, as Igneous remained completely unfazed by the blow. It tottered for a moment, then fell flat upon its midsection.

Limestone snarled at her erstwhile charger’s weakness, and dismounted, drawing the pacifier out of her mouth and swinging it at Igneous’ leg like a club.

Igneous brought his muzzle down right next to Limestone’s and gave her a flat look. “Now sweetheart, what hast thy mother told thee about playing with the gators?”

“Don’ cawe,” Limestone said, drawing back for another swing.

Her father placed a hoof on her foreleg, stopping the blow. “Limestone, it is clear that thou art angry about something. Canst thou use thy words to tell us what has got thee so upset?”

Limestone stuck her lower lip out as she scowled. “Mama. Maud. ‘S… tummy.”

“I see,” he said, sitting down on his haunches. “Perhaps I understand.”

“Don’ wan’otha sista.”

Igneous smiled for a moment, but then saw the look on her face. “Now Limestone, thou knowest thy mother and I care about thee deeply, even if we’re blessed with other children as well.”

Limestone folded her forelegs and pouted. “Don’ see mama no mo’.”

He nodded, looking sad. “Carrying this foal be harder on thy mother for some reason. Harder than with thyself or thy sister. Between her needed bed rest, and with nursing Maud… I wish I saw her up and about more often as well, Limestone.”

“Don’ wan’ mo’,” Limestone said. “Gatow eat Maud. Eat up mama’s tummy too. No mo’!”

Igneous sighed, then lifted her up in his forehooves. “Limestone, thou art as clever and determined as thy mother.” He glanced down at the fallen gator. “Perhaps a bit too clever, at that. But thou shouldst know, thy mother and I love thee deeply, even though things be difficult now.”

She glowered at him. “Tawk and tawk and tawk. No pway.”

He smiled, and pulled her into a great hug. “Of course. By my troth, there hath indeed been too little of play lately.”

Just then, there was a soft, subdued, almost apologetic cry from the other room.

Igneous looked up, sighing. “I should get thy sister Maud first, though; I think that be her loneliness cry. We can all sit down and play together.”

No,” she said, tugging on his leg. “Pway wi’ me.”

“I shall, dear,” he said, giving her a sincere smile. “I know it be not quite the same as before, but I promise thee… my love for thee be not diminished by the blessing of more foals. And there will be more play with thee, both now and ever after.”

He set her down, and strode out of the room, cooing as he made his way toward Maud’s crib in the other room.

Limestone frowned after him, then turned and eyed the fallen gator. Its eyes were open and staring at her with uncertainty. She trotted up to it, cocked her head, and offered it her pacifier, which it promptly clamped down on.

“Guess pway’s what I wan’d,” she said to it. Then she gestured down the hall. “S’doow. We dun’ hewe.”

The gator gulped with relief, pushed itself up onto its feet again, and crawled back out into the sun, sucking on the pacifier.

And with that as its consolation, the gator felt the experience had not quite been a total loss.