Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals: Winter Break

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 15

Chapter 2

There was no raisins on his raisin toast, much to Sumac’s dismay. It was, for all intents and purposes, just cinnamon toast, sans raisins. He didn’t even care for raisins very much, but something about all of this left him grumpy. Or maybe, everything else had left him grumpy and this just made everything want to come out. Somewhere, in the depths, a tantrum lurked. Sumac could feel it, and he feared it.

“There’s no raisins in my raisin toast,” Sumac said to the three mares having breakfast with him. “Just cinnamon and butter.”

Twinkleshine, leaning forward, narrowed her eyes while looking right at Sumac. “Now I have to punish you.”

“What?” Sumac blinked. “Why? What’d I do?”

“Because, I need practice being a mom. It’s time I punished you for no raisin.”

“Twinkleshine!” Trixie’s voice was shrill and her nostrils flared while she turned to give her breakfast companion a baleful glare. “That was awful!” With a snarl, Trixie hurled her half-eaten toast to punish the punster, and of course, it landed butter side down, right on Twinkleshine’s snoot.

“I think I found all of Sumac’s raisins,” Twinkleshine said as she went cross eyed to get a better look at the toast sticking to her muzzle. “Why are you looking at me like that, Lemon? I thought we were friends!”

Sumac laughed, and down in the deep, dark places within himself, the temper tantrum fizzled out with a promise to return later, when conditions were more favourable. He watched as Twinkleshine pulled the toast off of her nose and began eating it, all while Trixie began buttering up another slice of raisin toast for herself.

Sighing, the colt strained against his bonds, hating them. He was tied to his chair, there was no other way of putting it, he was secured in place with straps to keep him from falling over. While he couldn’t move, at least he had magic, and his magic was getting stronger from constant use. His head was tilted off to one side, the corner of his jaw resting against the cushioned neck brace that held him up. He hated wearing it, and only had to wear it while eating. Fighting against it was making him stronger though, so it wasn’t all bad.

With his eyes, he looked over at Trixie and Sumac said, “Lemon Hearts told me that you are asexual.”

“Lemon!” Trixie paused her buttering to look at the yellow mare sitting across the table. “How could you?”

Looking just a little ashamed, Lemon’s ears pinned back against her skull. “I told you I would do it if you procrastinated. Sumac deserves the truth. He might be five, but he’s mature for his age and he worries about you. He wants all of the same things that other foals his age want, like happy parents!”

“Don’t be mad at Lemon.” Sumac willed the pitcher of apple juice to rise and he poured some into his cup without spilling a drop. He put the pitcher down, it sloshed, and he took a slice of leftover coffee cake.

“You’re… not… bothered… by this?” Blinking with astonishment, Trixie stared at her son.

“Why would I be?” Sumac asked, and he blinked right back at his mother.

“Because… because of all of the troubles and problems my own mother had… your grandmother… all of the heartache—Sumac, you wouldn’t believe the sort of scenarios I kept constructing inside of my head and all of the ways this would make you unhappy or cause you grief.” Trixie’s brutal, unflinching honesty caused the jovial mood to vanish.

“I told you so.” Lemon’s ears rose just a little in early-stage defiance, but remained pointed backwards. “Trixie, the stuff you make up in your head isn’t true to what ponies actually think of you. Especially Sumac. You’ve gotta start trusting him… you need to start trusting us, or there will be a problem. I’ll make it a problem.”

“It’s hard, okay?” Trixie’s ears dropped and assumed a more submissive posture. “I keep having bad dreams… really awful dreams where I lose you—”

“That’s not going to happen!” Lemon’s voice had considerable volume. “Sometimes, being with the pony that you love is more important than the sex that might come with it!” The yellow mare’s ears rose to a full stand and pivoted around to face Trixie. “I am committed to you! You’re hung up on sex because you seem to have this misguided idea that commitment and dedication are only offered as rewards for sexual gratification! You need to sort out this confusion!”

Now, it was Trixie’s ears that were pinned down flat against her head. “You’re right. I do. Before it hurts Sumac.” Trixie, her eyes glimmering with excessive moisture, looked over at the colt, blinked a few times, then turned away to look out the kitchen window.

“Um…” Sumac looked around, not knowing what to say.

“We want you to grow up with a healthy sexual outlook,” Twinkleshine said to Sumac while she wiped butter from her snoot. “I’m messed up, but I’m getting better, and I wish that my parents had been this open with me. Trixie is in some in-between place right now, and we’d all be in a real mess if it wasn’t for Lemon Hearts keeping us in line.”

“I’m still not understanding this whole asexual thing,” Sumac admitted, hoping to draw Lemon’s attention away from Trixie. His statement was true—he didn’t understand it very well—and the idea of sex of any sort just made him feel icky. Kissing, as an action, that was still pretty gross.

Hearing these words, Lemon’s head turned with an abrupt suddenness, and she seemed game to try again. “Sumac, being asexual has a lot of misunderstandings associated with it. It doesn’t mean that they hate sex, or don’t want sex, or can’t have sex—”

“For me,” Trixie said, cutting in with a soft voice, “it is about mental attraction, not action. I like the closeness. I like the snuggling. I just don’t get much from the act itself and I don’t feel much in the way of physical attraction, which is really confusing when you want to be close with somepony.”

Taking a deep breath, Sumac felt his ears grow warm, and he stared down at his plate, rather than look at any of the mares at the table. It was easier this way. A hot flush crept up his neck and the inside of his cheeks went dry, causing them to cling to his teeth. Bracing himself, he drew in another deep breath and said, “So you’ve done stuff together… grown up stuff. That’s good. That’s how it should be.” As he spoke, terror welled up from within him and he worried that he might have let slip the wrong words. “It’s good to know that nothing is broken.”

“Yes.” Trixie nodded, then she coughed and stared down at her own plate.

“Sumac,” Lemon began, her tone gentle. “Everything works on your mother. Nothing is broken. She is capable of having happy, healthy, normal sex and the release that goes with it. She can become aroused, to a certain degree… she just has to take a different avenue to get there. It isn’t a physical act for Trixie, but almost entirely a mental one.”

After hearing all of this, Sumac struggled to understand it, because he wanted to understand it. He wanted his mother—no, his mothers, to be happy with one another. He swallowed, filled his cheeks full of air to make them stop sticking to his teeth, and after screwing his courage to the sticking place, he looked at Trixie.

A nervous wicker slipped out, and Sumac swallowed again. He really wanted some apple juice, but that would have to come later, as a reward, maybe. “It sounds like to me,” he said, and his voice became an awkward squeak, “that you never really developed a like for colts or fillies, but you can still love them if you look past those parts.”

Smiling with relief, Lemon Hearts’ head bobbed up and down in an enthusiastic nod. “That’s a very good way of putting it, Sumac. I’m proud of you. We’ll talk more later, okay? Trixie and Twinkleshine both look a little overwhelmed, and so do you.”

Sumac was, in fact, overwhelmed, and he began slurping down his apple juice, glad that this was over.

Once more, Sumac Apple found himself staring out the window, watching as the world went by. He missed Boomer a great deal, and his window watching was done with the purpose of spotting Twilight Sparkle and Spike. Boomer needed a check-up and a physical, and the doctor was in Canterlot. It was difficult for Sumac to travel at the moment.

Dragons were born, had a quick rush to a state of maturity where they could care for themselves, and then slowed down. Dragons like Spike slowed down a whole lot, while dragons like Boomer had lifespans similar to ponies. Spike would be a tyke for the next century, while Boomer would just grow old and eventually pass away while Spike approached adolescence.

Such was life.

Life wasn’t fair, but there were consolations to be found, if one looked hard enough. Friends, family, loved ones, and simple pleasures. Sumac had been enjoying the simple pleasures, perhaps a bit too much, and he had a feeling that he needed to start hitting the books again if he wanted to keep his mental muscles.

His magic lessons with Vinyl had been delayed, due to the sudden increase in family size. The colt was curious, anxious, because there had only been brief mentions of Megara, who was said to be half-manticore and half-pony. It was almost certain that he was having withdrawals from Pebble and he wanted to see her more than just about anything.

For a brief moment, he heard Lemon’s voice coming from the bedroom, and he hoped that the three of them weren’t fighting. For some reason, this was a constant fear, that a fight would break out and then all of this would be over, it would end. Sumac feared the end, he had awful nightmares about it, and more than once, he had seen Princess Luna vanishing through doors within his dreams.

Family was the only thing that Sumac wanted. Not wealth, not fortune, not riches, not stacks of comic books or the latest, greatest toys. None of those things mattered to him, and in a more long-term sense, he had a pretty good idea of what he wanted from life. He wanted what Pebble had, a large, bustling family, and for him, it started with the three mares who looked after his every need, embarrassing or not.

Outside, the snow was coming down sideways and the skies were grey. The house was warm, cosy, and secure. Sumac loved this house, it was everything he had hoped for. He had the upstairs to himself, and he even had his own bathroom. The living room had a great view though the windows, the kitchen was large, even larger than the living room, and there was a fully enclosed solarium in the back of the house that would be finished soon. Well, the room was already done, but the plants were still being planted. It was an activity that they all did as a family.

Ears perking, he heard voices again, this time Twinkleshine and Trixie both talking at the same time. His stomach muscles tensed and for a moment, Sumac almost hated the irrational fear that threatened to overtake him. Whatever the conversation was, it was one that they couldn’t have in front of him, and that worried him. Now he understood some of Pebble’s seeming paranoia and why she always fretted about her parents.

When one was a foal, everything felt so important, doubly so when one was used to having nothing. The house, having stuff, having a family… anything that came along that might be a potential threat, it felt like a major crisis just waiting to happen. Everything felt so precarious. Their last house had burned down and everything had turned to ash with it. Lemon Hearts wanted to propose marriage, but it seemed that there was still an awful lot to sort out, and sorting stuff out might lead to fights.

And fights… fights might mean the end of everything. It was a terrible, terrible fact of life. Sumac was helpless, defenseless, and oh so dependent upon those three mares. Now, he found himself straining to listen, and even considered using a cantrip to eavesdrop. He could do that, for whatever reason, he was gifted at what Twilight called the ‘sneaky spells.’ They came to him as naturally as breathing, much to everypony’s concern, and he understood why.

Flam Apple, that’s why.

Much to Sumac’s relief, he heard laughter coming from the bedroom, real, actual laughter, not nervous laughter, or fearful laughter, but happy, belly-busting laughter. The tension that had made all of his muscles go tight let go, and he was able to draw in one deep, shuddering breath before he began sobbing with relief, the tantrum from earlier manifesting as a powerful need to cry.

Alone, on the couch, staring out the window, Sumac had no choice but to let everything out.

Author's Note

I'll be honest. This chapter was almost cut completely. This is a subject matter that I just don't know enough about, and I wanted to treat it with the respect that it deserves. There are pitfalls here, I'm aware of those, as different people assign different meanings.

If you have something to say, do so kindly so that I might do this better in the future, should the topic ever be tackled again. In the long run, attacking me serves no purpose and does nothing to advance understanding.

Thank you, in advance, for giving me a chance to try out some compelling storytelling.

Chapter 4

A single spot of bright orange stood out in sharp contrast to the blanket of white that buried Ponyville. Up in a tree, still clinging to a naked, almost skeletal branch, a lone leaf remained, a leaf that refused to let go, a leaf that refused to fall. Somehow, it persisted. It persevered, and something about this resonated deep within Sumac Apple.

Sitting in his sled, being towed behind Lemon Hearts, Sumac focused on the leaf. So many thoughts flooded into his mind all at once and he was overwhelmed. After his encounter with Queen Chrysalis, Sumac knew without doubt how fragile life was, and he was all too aware of just how close to death he had come. But this leaf, this solitary, lone leaf, it made him think about how resilient life was. The leaf had defied its expiration and now continued to persist, not just existing, but also bringing a little spot of much needed colour to others. It was an inspiration, and Sumac was quite taken by it, so much so that he felt a lump rising in his throat.

“Stop,” he begged, and much to his relief, the sled came to a halt. Sumac watched as all three mares turned their heads to look at him, all of them snorting steam in the frigid weather. Trixie had an eyebrow raised, Lemon Hearts had a curious expression, and Twinkleshine looked alarmed. For Sumac, their faces all reflected how they responded to a situation, a reminder of the purpose and function that each of them served in their little budding family.

“What’s wrong?” Twinkleshine asked.

Trixie began to look around, her eyebrow still raised. “Why are we stopping?”

With a great deal of effort, Sumac lifted his foreleg and pointed upwards, at the leaf. “It still exists.”

Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine all looked up, and each of them focused upon the solitary leaf. Boomer poked her head out from beneath Sumac’s poncho and began to look around, all while snapping at any snowflakes that came too close. Based upon the curious, confused expressions of the three mares, Sumac began to realise that he was having a moment, one of his special moments, the kind of special moment where he was going to have to explain himself to other ponies.

It was a bit disheartening.

Octavia would understand, because she was an introvert. She understood the sudden flood of emotions that seemed to happen for no reason. Sumac let his foreleg fall, then he pulled it back beneath his poncho and the old saddle blanket that covered him. He blinked a few times, rapid blinks, focusing his vision upon the vivid orange leaf that somehow maintained its precarious connection to the tree.

“It still exists,” Sumac said to the three mares.

“I don’t get it.” Twinkleshine tilted her head to one side, then the other, and she stared upwards while snowflakes clung to her pastel pink mane. “It’s just a leaf.”

Feeling a growing sense of frustration, Sumac stared at Twinkleshine and felt a moment of foalish anger that left him feeling hot beneath his winter outwear. “Everything is dead, all of the other leaves are gone, but this one still exists. It still has something to offer to the world. It’s still hanging on and it won’t let go.”

“It’s just a leaf,” Trixie said to her son and now, she focused on him. “You feeling okay, Sumac?”

“I’m fine,” Sumac snapped and he could feel the crankiness overtaking him. He began to wonder if one of them might suggest he needed a nap, and he hated it when that was brought up. Yes, he needed naps, but there was no point in bringing it up. “Don’t you see how meaningful it is? It’s beautiful… it has meaning… can’t you see that?”

“I suppose it is kinda pretty.” Lemon Hearts blinked and several snowflakes clung to her long eyelashes. “It’s just a leaf though, and it hasn’t fallen yet. The wind will pick up and it’ll be gone, soon enough.”

Feeling as though he was just wasting his breath, Sumac chose silence. He stared up at the leaf, watching it tremble in the wind, and the three mares began to stamp around in the snow, impatient. It wasn’t so much of an icy crunch, but more of a slushy squish. It didn’t take long for them to start moving again, and there was a jerk when Lemon Hearts began to walk, tugging the sled along behind her.

As the sled began to move, Sumac focused upon the lone, solitary leaf, determined to draw as much meaning from it as he could, to think and contemplate its poetic beauty. To the five year old, the lingering leaf was a profound moment in his life, a realisation of deeper meaning, of ideals, an awakening of the concept of aesthetics, though he had no name yet to call it.

It was also a sad moment, in a profound sort of way, as he also realised that others just saw a leaf.

Ponyville Cemetery was buried beneath the snow with most of the headstones swallowed up in the vast expanse of white. The trees were naked, bared, they looked like bony hands reaching up from the graves, all save one. This tree had leaves, it was green, and for whatever reason, the snow did not accumulate upon its branches.

Beneath this tree was a familiar looking mare wearing a familiar looking hat and she had a familiar looking red ribbon tied around the tip of her tail, a ribbon that stood out in sharp contrast against the white snow. Upon seeing her, the lone surviving leaf was forgotten and Sumac became quite excited, so much so that his legs began twitching on their own without him thinking about it.

As the sled passed through the iron gates, the mare turned to watch, her eyes squinting beneath the brim of her hat. After a moment, her head turned once more, and she resumed looking at the strange tree that seemed untouched by winter’s killing cold. The sled traveled over the slushy snow with a wet squelch and Sumac was thankful that the tow rope was long enough that no fly-back from Lemon Hearts’ hooves landed upon him.

“Howdy,” Applejack said as the three mares and the sled drew nearer. “It’s a wet snow, and I didn’t think anypony would come out to these here parts today.”

Sitting in the sled, his head propped up on a folded blanket, Sumac could hear the pain in Applejack’s voice. He felt awkward, there was a lot he wanted to say, but all he could think about was the recent revelation about their relationship. Not only was Applejack his cousin, but due to a bit of unfortunate amorousness among Apple family members, Applejack was also his aunt. This left Sumac quite confused on what to call her.

“Sumac wanted to talk to his dad,” Lemon Hearts said to Applejack. “So, we all got bundled up and made the trip. It looks like you wanted to talk to his dad too.”

“I suppose I did,” Applejack replied in a flat voice. “I suppose I did.”

“What’s wrong?” Trixie moved a little closer to Applejack, lifted Sumac out of the sled, and set him down upon her back. Then she began to smooth out his poncho, making sure it wasn’t bunched up or otherwise uncomfortable.

“Time is a funny thing.” Applejack began to shuffle around in the snow, and she looked up at the apple tree that seemed to be in the throes of spring. Her eyes focused on the bright red and white knitted scarf that somepony had tied around the trunk. “Time passes, and with each passing day, sometimes, the things you felt was right, you don’t feel that they is so right no more.”

“Regrets?” When Twinkleshine spoke the word, the steam coming from her lips almost, but not quite, looked like it formed a question mark.

“Plenty.” Applejack closed her eyes for a brief moment, when she opened them, she glanced around at the three mares that had joined her around the tree. “I done told him that if he ever laid a hoof on Sumac ever again, that I’d beat him to an inch of his life, and I did. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do. I was real emotional, ya see…”

Trixie nodded.

“I done tried to act like it was a noble thing I done, but that’s a load a horseapples.” Applejack’s lips pressed together and protruded outwards, making her muzzle look elongated and a bit silly. “The long and the short of it is, I did it for a lot of reasons, and not all of them good. I hated him for what he’d done to the family name, ya see. And now, after some time has passed, and I’ve done seen Princess Luna coming and going through the doors that show up in my dreams, I have come to realise that I have made a mistake.”

“So you came out to apologise?” Lemon Hearts asked.

“Eeyup,” Applejack replied, sounding very much like her brother. “I’ve done been beating myself up, a wondering if there might have been something I could’ve done, some way I could have pruned away his wickedness and made him behave. We Apples, we have this rash temper, ya see, and sometimes, it messes with our judgment.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Trixie said with a wry smile.

Applejack too, smiled, let out a sigh, and then turned to look at Sumac. The wind picked up a bit and the falling snow blew a bit sideways, tugging and pulling on winter outerwear while threatening to steal Applejack’s hat. Boomer, tucked beneath Sumac’s poncho, seemed to be asleep, or just not moving at the moment. After staring at Sumac for a bit, Applejack returned to looking at the tree.

“Sometimes, I worry if’n Big Mac and I are good examples for Sumac,” Applejack said to the ponies around her. “Big Mac has some rather old-fashioned ideas about the mare-folk that nice ponies call quaint, and not-so-nice ponies call something else entirely. I ain’t perfect either, though sometimes I act like I am. I know I look down my nose at others, and I can have some trouble admitting when I done did wrong.”

“But you’re doing it now,” Lemon Hearts said in a soft, supportive whisper.

“Yeah, but if I was a good pony, I’d’ve done did it before the guilt chewed up my innards. The only reason I’m spilling my guts now is ‘cause I can’t stand myself or this feeling I done gots inside. I’ve done been feeling like a bit of a hypocrite lately, on account of how I point out everything wrong with others, while a lot of the same is also wrong with me.”

Sumac, lying prone on Trixie’s back, rested his chin against the damp collar of her coat. He took every one of Applejack’s words to heart and hoped that one day, should it be necessary, that he would have the same sort of courage to be so honest about himself. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air, and started to wonder if he had anything meaningful to say.

“Big Mac means well,” Lemon Hearts said while her hooves shuffled in the wet snow, and white flakes clung to her damp fetlocks. “He’s what you call courtly. I’ve never felt belittled or slighted around him, even if his views are old-fashioned.”

“Yeah, well, he set me off the other day and we done had ourselves a fight.” Applejack, unable to look anypony in the eye, turned away and stared at the distant fence.

“What’d he say?” Twinkleshine asked, because somepony had to, otherwise there might be an awkward silence.

Baring her teeth, Applejack let out an angry whinny, and tossed her head around a bit, causing the snowflakes on the brim of her hat to slide off. “He said something about y’all.”

“He did?” Lemon Hearts head tilted off to one side, and her eyes were filled with warm concern. “I’m sure he meant well. What did he say?”

“I dunno if I should—”

“Applejack, I think you’ll feel better if you let it out.” Lemon Hearts’ tone was both maternal and insistent.

“Oh, he done made it clear that he was fine with how y’all are, he ain’t got no problem with that, not at all, and he kept telling me that over and over while I cussed him out… what he does have a problem with is that Sumac ain’t got no daddy and Big Mac is real, real worried that you three mares won’t raise him right, that you’ll turn him into a sissy, and Mac is real upset that Sumac doesn’t have a male perspective in the house. He thinks that you three should have a stallion in y’alls little herd for Sumac’s benefit.”

“I see.” Lemon Hearts voice was one of utter quiet and calm. “Big Mac is entitled to his opinion and he is allowed to be concerned.”

“How can ya be so calm about it?” Applejack demanded. “I wanted to give him a black eye for sayin’ it!”

“I don’t think Big Mac meant any malice when he said it,” Lemon Hearts replied, and she shot a preemptive glance at Twinkleshine, whose face was turning a ruddy shade of pink. “Big Mac loves Sumac and he is allowed to voice his concerns, even if they are worrisome or come from being misinformed. Ponies make a lot of assumptions about we three mares, that we’ll raise a sissy, that we can’t keep Sumac safe, and that it is somehow wrong for three mares to raise a rugged, masculine colt. I don’t even bat an eye anymore, because I want to be a good role model for Sumac.”

“That’s part of the reason I done come out here today, was to get out of the house for a spell and clear my head.” Applejack turned to look at Lemon Hearts and gave the lemony yellow mare a nod. “When Mac and I start fighting, it upsets Hidden Rose and Ambrosia a whole lot.”

“Why do you think he’s still green?” Sumac asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Say again?” Applejack looked Sumac right in the eye.

“Flam. He has leaves and even apple blossoms.” Sumac’s eyes angled upwards. “Why do you suppose that is?”

Squinting, chewing on her own lip, Applejack craned her head back and looked up at the green, leafy branches up above her head. “Tarnish done thinks it’s ‘cause this tree has a soul… and with that soul comes a bit of magic. This here tree will never know winter. It’ll stay a strong, hardy tree.”

There was a long, low groan, and Sumac hoped it was the wind. He really wanted it to be the wind, but he had his suspicions that it might be something else. Looking at the scarf tied around the trunk, he saw that somepony had left a peppermint stick tucked into the folds of the knot.

“Say,” Lemon Hearts said in voice that seemed to warm the winter air, “who wants to go to Sugarcube Corner to get warm?”

Author's Note

So... fun fact. This story will be focused on more than just Sumac's perspective. We'll be getting inside of the heads of a lot of ponies. (Well, ponies central to the plotline) So... whose head do you want a peek inside of?

Chapter 5

The rice pudding at Sugarcube Corner was perhaps their most spectacular seasonal treat. It was an extraordinary dish, fit for royalty, and there was nothing else quite like it. Slow cooked rice pudding, with dried, dehydrated cherries for sweetness, crystallised ginger for a bit of zing, and a sprinkle of cayenne pepper for zowie. Sugar was sprinkled over the top and then burned with a torch, melting it and forming a thin, hard shell of caramelised goodness that had to be shattered with your spoon.

It was a meal in and of itself, something that Sumac knew that he could get full from.

Sugarcube Corner had been decorated for the holidays a little early this year and they had gone all out. Sumac found the atmosphere to be cheerful, festive even, and his darting, inquisitive eyes took in every detail while he thought about the conversation that took place during breakfast.

“Mom?”

“Yes?” Trixie’s response was absent minded because she was far too focused on her rice pudding.

Sumac kept his voice low, knowing that this was a sensitive subject. “About you being the way you are… Lemon said you had a crush on Tarnish. How does that work?”

In an eyeblink, Trixie’s face turned purple, Twinkleshine began to giggle, and reaching over with her foreleg, Lemon Hearts wiped away some dribbled rice pudding from Trixie’s fuzzy chin. Sumac found this to be no laughing matter, and he maintained his serious mien. When his mother began to splutter, one of his fuzzy little eyebrows arched, but being one shade of beige on another shade of beige, it was hard to see.

“That’s one of the things I wondered about myself,” Trixie said after she recovered a bit. “One of the things I asked Princess Cadance about in private.”

“And what did she say?” Sumac asked, still keeping his voice low.

“Well,” Trixie began, “she asked me a whole bunch of questions, like what I found attractive about Tarnish. Other than him being a pleasant chocolate colour, I really couldn’t think of anything that I found particularly appealing about him, or that made me excited, and his chocolate colour is just nice to look at it but it doesn’t cause any particular feelings.”

Sumac attacked his pudding with his spoon and discovered, much to his delight, an enormous chunk of cherry. He gobbled this down and kept his attention focused on his mother, all while ignoring the burning embarrassment that threatened to set his ears on fire. Lemon Hearts insisted that their little family could talk about anything, and Sumac was ready to hold Lemon to her word.

“The only thing that we could come up with after a long talk was that Tarnish made me feel safe and secure. Princess Cadance said that I could be a little grey-sexual, and that my states of arousal may depend upon my state of happiness and how secure I feel at any given moment.”

Lemon, who smiled at Sumac, said to the colt, “Being asexual covers a broad spectrum of conditions and emotions.”

“Tarnish rescued me and he asked for nothing in return. He didn’t demand anything of me, and he didn’t try to force himself on me. In the hot spring… he just… held me… and I cried… and it was awkward… but he made me feel safe… and that sort of… well… when I thought about it later, I uh…” Trixie, her face a delightful shade of purple-blue, sat there, blinking, staring down into her pudding.

“You had something of a crush,” Lemon Hearts finished. “His kindness warmed your heart.”

One of Trixie’s ears drooped a bit, then twitched when she made it stand up once more. “Yeah. Tarnish was good to me, just like you’re good to me. I have a lot of the same feelings for you and Twinkleshine as I had for him.”

“You see, Sumac, a little goodness goes a long, long way.” With a turn of her head, Lemon Hearts smiled at Trixie. “Gentleness, understanding, kindness, and compassion. These are the things that will make you a great pony, beloved by others. Never forget that, Sumac.”

Chewing on a rubbery bit of cherry, or maybe it was ginger, Sumac considered Lemon’s words. Being a good pony was a pressing concern for him, and with his current lack of mobility, he had spent a lot of time staring out of the window, pondering what it meant to be a good pony. Lemon Hearts had a lot of ideas on what made a good pony, and he took all of them with as much seriousness as his five-year-old mind could muster.

Perhaps the most important thing that Lemon had told him was that it was important to be good, but not from a fear of being punished. Rather, a sincere desire to do right should be his motivation. Still, being the tender age of five, Sumac spent a lot of time worrying about being punished, it was a pressing concern, and he had terrible dreams about it all the time.

Hanging from Twinkleshine’s horn, Boomer stole bites of rice pudding from Twinkleshine’s bowl with her long, sticky tongue.

The bell over the door rang and Sumac heard a familiar voice that made his ears perk. Almost right away, the voice stopped talking, going silent, and his ears continued to strain, trying to listen for words that were no longer there. He could feel eyes on him, and even though he couldn’t turn his head to look, he knew that if he could turn around, he would see a worried, concerned face.

“Sumac!”

The sound of hooves clopping over wooden floorboards filled Sugarcube Corner as Olive sprinted across the room. She had packed on a few pounds during her own recovery, as evidenced by the heavy thud of each hoof striking the floor. After a moment, she came into view, and Sumac was glad to see her. She was, of course, healed and whole of body, just like he was, but she hadn’t had her neck broken.

With great enthusiasm, she climbed up into the empty chair beside him, almost knocking it over, and then Sumac felt himself get pulled into a gentle, but almost crushing hug. Olive even remembered to support his neck. A curious warm sensation filled his barrel as he pressed against her coat, which was still cold from the outdoors.

After shaking snow from themselves, Olive’s parents, Sapphire Gin and Vermouth crossed the room to join their daughter. They drew near the table, slow, smiling, perhaps waiting for some invitation before getting too close. It was Lemon Hearts who waved them closer, and the two ponies pulled up chairs to join their daughter at the now crowded table.

“Sapphire, Vermouth, how are you both?” Twinkleshine asked as the two earth ponies made themselves comfortable. “Olive, you feeling better?”

Rubbing his neck while still holding Sumac, Olive replied, “The headaches are mostly gone.”

Saying nothing, Sapphire watched her daughter, her eyes warm, loving, and somewhat unfocused. Beside her, Vermouth glanced around the table, meeting the eyes of each pony in turn, and when he was done, his gaze also rested upon his daughter. There was a look of unmistakable pride on his face.

“I think we’re good,” Sapphire said in reply to Twinkleshine’s greeting. “We came for the rice pudding. It’s nice to be able to go out as a family… to be together.”

“Yes, it’s nice to still have what is precious to us.” Lemon Hearts gestured at the two foals right as Olive was letting Sumac go and helping him get comfortable in his own seat again. With her magic, Lemon Hearts steadied Sumac’s head and helped him to hold it up, but left him to bear some of the weight himself. “Here comes Mrs. Cake to take your order…”

Sumac Apple had a glop of rice pudding on his snoot and Olive did her best not to laugh. He seemed cheerful enough, though one had to be paying attention to notice that Sumac was cheerful. It wasn’t something that showed, though sometimes it did. He was kind of cute with a blob of pudding on his snoot, though she tried not to think too much about that.

With a pang of guilt, she thought of his fragility, how slight and small he was for his age. He had what her mother called a ‘runner’s frame’ and with time, Sumac would grow up to be long, lean, and lanky, which Olive thought was ideal. He was fragile though, so fragile, and she had seen that for herself when faced with Queen Chrysalis. While her own abuse had been severe, horrendous even, her pudgy, muscular body had endured it and was now recovering from it, with the help of magical healing.

Sumac however, still had a ways to go.

Olive was determined to make sure that he was never hurt again. It was funny how they were now fast friends. She was stunned at how easy it was to make friends once she had stopped being a bossy jerk. Starlight had shown her the way and together, the two of them were navigating the difficult road to recovery from having an unpleasant, unlikeable past.

How he was able to forgive her for hurting him, she would never know or understand.

Staring at Sumac, Olive became aware that her mother was looking right at her with a teasing look in her eye. Embarrassed, she stifled a giggle, where before, she might have exploded with rage. An awkward half-smile spread over her muzzle and she shared a secret, happy moment with her mother. Sapphire, her mother, she knew her secret, they had talked about it, discussed it, and Olive had bared her heart to her mom.

But not her dad, because that would be gross and embarrassing.

“There is going to be a Winter Moon Festival,” Vermouth said to his tablemates. “It’ll be the first official celebration of the festival in over a thousand years. We earth ponies still hold it as one of our most important nights though.”

“Why is that?” Sumac asked, and behind his dark glasses, his eyes were bright with curiousity.

“It marks the best time to make foals,” Vermouth replied in the most casual manner imaginable. The earth pony stallion was oblivious to the reactions of the mares and the foals around the table as he continued, “It is the most important night of the year for earth ponies, the longest, darkest night. Foals made on the night of the Winter Moon are born exactly eleven months later, right as winter is starting to set in again, when there isn’t much to do but gather together indoors and wait for spring. It’s right nice to have a cuddly little newborn around for the holidays.” His eyes darted over to his daughter, and the stallion grinned. “And somepony just had their birthday.”

Olive wanted to melt into a puddle beneath the table when she thought about her father’s words. Ew!

“When the moon is full and bright and full of magic,” Sapphire Gin began, “earth pony mares become receptive and fertile. There is the Summer’s Heat and the Winter’s Warmth.” Reaching out her hoof, she gave her daughter a good natured poke. “It is also a special time for mothers and daughters, as traditionally, during the long, boring, dark time of winter, a mother teaches her daughter about home and hearth right after her daughter experiences her first ever Winter’s Warmth.”

“Mom!” Olive’s green face somehow turned a ruddy-brown when she blushed.

“There isn’t much else to do during winter, but make more foals and pass on your skills to the foals you have.” Vermouth hunched over his pudding and gave his wife a flirtatious wink, which made Sapphire start giggling. “There’s a lot of earth ponies that are real, real happy to hear about the return of this festival.”

“Well,” Lemon gasped, fanning herself with her hoof. “You learn something new every day. Winter’s Warmth.” Her own sudden pinkish blush made her face turn somewhat orange.

“Mom?” Olive, her ears on fire, couldn’t look her mother in her eye.

“Yes?” Sapphire paused her eating to look at her daughter.

“That special time… that special time you mentioned, will you do that with me?” Olive asked, and she stared down at her own pudding, not wanting to think about all of the ponies around her.

“Well… of course… why wouldn’t I?” Sapphire responded.

Lifting her head, somehow Olive found the courage to look her mother in the eye. “I’m not an earth pony. This magic won’t work on me. I’m different from you. This will never happen for me.”

Sapphire recoiled as if she had been slapped, and her mouth dropped open from the startling realisation that her daughter had made. She was a big, powerful mare with a stocky, sturdy build, and lunging forward, she snatched her daughter up out of her chair. In seconds, she was crushing Olive in a massive bear-hug, and Olive’s eyes bulged in their sockets.

There was no escaping the savage maternal smothering that Olive was now forced to endure.

Author's Note

Worldbuilding.

Chapter 6

The trip home was all the more pleasant because the snow had eased off a bit and the sun was almost shining. In the distance, an army of pegasus ponies decorated Twilight’s castle, stringing lights all over it, along with beautiful garlands made of varying colours of tinsel. Ponies, both foals and adults, played in the snow together. There was a festive mood that hung over the whole town, and this sense, this feeling that everything was secure.

Sumac didn’t know if everything was secure, but he was glad for the feeling nonetheless.

After everything that had happened, Sumac now had some association with security equating to power. Magic kept ponies secure. Powerful magic users, such as Twilight Sparkle, Starlight Glimmer, and his mother, Trixie, kept ponies and Ponyville secure. In the future, ponies like Olive, she would keep things secure. Though he did not realise it, nor fully understand it, Sumac’s young mind would forever associate security with power, and power would be recognised by the security it offered.

All the more reason to become a powerful wizard, at least by Sumac’s thinking.

Sticking his tongue out, Sumac concentrated with all of his might on a ‘come to life’ spell focused on the sled that was beneath him. He wanted it to move under its own power, or at least help Lemon Hearts pull it through the snow, because today, it was her turn to be a draft pony. Come to life spells were complicated—Trixie used them on occasion when she pulled the wagon, but the spell was draining under load and never lasted long, usually it was just enough to get them up a steep hill.

The magic flowed through Sumac, he felt it, he felt the powerful allure of complex, complicated magic, the most complicated and complex of all magical schools, enchantment. Common unicorns couldn’t even begin to cast these spells, in general. Only special, gifted unicorns, unicorns of advanced, sufficient ability could squeeze off a spell of this complexity.

Rarity was one such unicorn, and he had observed how she animated objects around her with her telekinesis, making them her puppets. Rarity was far, far more powerful than she realised, and Sumac knew this because of his own magic sense. Rarity had magic enough to give him a headache if he focused too much on it.

All around Sumac, snowflakes no longer fell, but remained suspended, floating in mid-air. The scent of winter was replaced by the stench of ozone. Sumac could feel some of his consciousness seeping into the wood of the sled, which buzzed and thrummed beneath him. Boomer scurried out from beneath his poncho and the blanket covering them both, ran up his neck, up the back of his head, and then clung to his knitted hat with her claws.

“No.” Boomer said, shaking her head. “No, no, no, nononononono!”

Mid ‘no’ there was a lurch from the sled and Sumac felt his magic get away from him. The sled accelerated like a rocket, shooting forward, right into Lemon Hearts, who tumbled into the sled with Sumac, and she made a valiant effort not to harm the fragile colt while falling. Trixie and Twinkleshine both let out a cry of alarm, and then the sled took off.

Like a bullet, it zoomed forwards, and Ponyville became a blur. Sumac’s cheeks were peeled back away from his teeth, and they flapped like flags in the wind. Somehow, Lemon was behind him now, holding him, and supporting his neck. Boomer was still shouting ‘no’ over and over while clinging to his hat. Everything was a confusing jumble and Sumac’s senses were overwhelmed.

Lemon Hearts was laughing.

She laughed like a mad pony, bellowing laughter, and she also squealed with delight while squeezing Sumac. A shield bubble manifested around them, protecting them as the sled picked up speed. And the sled was picking up speed, oh goodness, it was getting faster, and faster, and somehow faster still. Ponies shrieked and screamed as they dove out of the way, trying to dodge the runaway rocket-sled that was shooting through Ponyville, skimming over the snow, accelerating to absurd speeds.

Protected from the wind, Sumac’s face sagged back into place, but only for a moment, because when he recovered from having his face almost slip-slide to the back of his skull, he began grinning. He was doing magic! Real, serious, honest-to-goodness magic! Already, he could feel the drain on his system, but he didn’t care, not in the slightest. He was going Rainbow Dash-fast through the streets of Ponyville and Lemon Hearts was laughing her head off.

Sumac’s euphoric elation was dulled by the sudden realisation that he didn’t know how to steer and this straight run couldn’t last forever. He also didn’t know how to stop—a real problem indeed. He blasted past a startled Starlight Glimmer and the rush of his wake peeled off her hat, her scarf, and her earmuffs. She shouted something, but Sumac couldn’t hear it, and the colt wondered if he had broken the sound barrier or something.

FWOOM!

He was still accelerating, which concerned him, and Sumac could feel the magical expenditure sucking him dry. Lemon was shaking with laughter—was it terrified laughter? Sumac had no way of knowing. To his left, a pegasus zoomed up and flew at street level beside him. It was Rainbow Dash, of course it was, and she looked as though she wasn’t even trying hard to keep up. She kept pace just outside Lemon’s shield bubble.

Glancing at Rainbow Dash, Sumac couldn’t help himself. He asked, “Hey, slowpoke, wanna race?”

To which Rainbow Dash replied, “Wanna be grounded forever?”

Just as Rainbow Dash had spoken, there was a brilliant, blinding flash of magenta light, and Twilight Sparkle exploded into existence just above the streaking runaway sled, along with two very worried, very concerned looking mares, neither of which were laughing like Lemon was laughing. Twilight Sparkle began to cast a spell, Boomer wailed like a siren, and much to Sumac’s relief, (and his dismay) the sled began to slow.

After the initial shock wore off and a few angry words were uttered, the kisses came. Sumac bore them, stoic, steadfast, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Trixie hadn’t said anything about being proud of him, and Twinkleshine had only made a brief mention about him being a bonehead. He was getting kissed on both sides, which was kind of awful, but also kind of nice, even though he would never, ever admit to this.

Twilight stood in the snow, staring, a blank expression upon her face. Rainbow Dash hovered beside her, laughing, and trying to get Twilight to smile. Lemon Hearts still had an uncontrollable case of the giggles and she was almost wheezing as she struggled for air. Sumac was drained and his whole body trembled with the need for food, even though he had just eaten some rice pudding.

Running through the snow, Starlight Glimmer approached, a wide, reckless grin on her face. Twilight turned her head to look at her, and then her serious mien gave way when the corners of her mouth kept tugging upwards. With Rainbow Dash nudging her, Twilight began to chortle while Sumac received more tag-team kisses on both sides.

With Starlight standing beside her, Twilight exploded into guffaws of braying laughter, and her eyes squeezed shut. One foreleg raised and she pressed her fetlock into her barrel while she threw her head back and howled in an uncontrollable manner. With a sheepish expression, Sumac didn’t know what was so funny.

“What’s so funny, Twilight?” Trixie asked, saying what Sumac was thinking.

Gasping, Twilight tried to pull herself together, but failed. With a sob of laughter and tears streaming from her eyes, she fell over into the snow with a wet, slushy squish. Rainbow looked down, laughing herself, and watched as Twilight clutched her sides. Starlight Glimmer began wrapping her scarf back around her neck, shaking her head, and chuckling.

“Twilight, what is it that is so funny?” Trixie repeated while one foreleg remained around Sumac’s neck and her muzzle hovered close to his fuzzy cheek.

“Sumac has hit that stage of reckless experimentation,” Twilight gasped, and she gulped in as much air as she could so she could keep going while still laughing. “He’s smart enough to try new things... but not wise enough to understand the consequences… all three of you are so horned! The next few years are going to be so interesting! It took Princess Celestia to control my magical outbursts!”

“Ugh.” Trixie’s whole face sagged as the weight of Twilight’s words bore down upon her.

“This, from the filly that turned her parents into potted plants.” Twinkleshine’s deadpan did nothing to stop Twilight’s laughter, and she watched through narrowed eyes as the alicorn rolled over in the snow. “I think the three of us will be more than a match for Sumac.”

“HAH!” Twilight’s outburst startled Starlight, who let out a spooked whinny. “If the three of you survive the next decade whole of mind and body, I’ll give you a medal or a gold star for exceptional parenting!”

“Not funny, Sparkle,” Twinkleshine said.

“No, it’s not funny,” Lemon Hearts added, “it’s hilarious!”

“Lemon!” Twinkleshine turned to look at her lemony yellow companion.

“We’re so horned.” Trixie now had a dull, almost vacant stare that focused on nothing in particular. “My son will be our undoing. Twilight is right. We’re going to have to step up our game if we hope to survive the next ten years.” With a slow turn of her head, Trixie gave her colt a worried, but loving smooch on his cheek.

Sumac, realising that he was the source of so much fear, doubt, and worry, began to giggle.

The post-magic jitters were pretty bad this time, but Sumac took them as a sign of something done right. Lemon Hearts was now in the kitchen—still giggling—and fixing a snack. Now, for Sumac himself, he had been unwrapped from his outerwear like a holiday gift and left to sit on the couch with Boomer, who eyed him in a manner most suspicious, as if perhaps he might make the couch go rocketing off at any moment. Boomer did not trust the couch to remain still, not after what Sumac had just done.

Both Trixie and Twinkleshine gave strange looks at the mop that Lemon Hearts had left by the front door, a subtle hint that the entryway needed cleaning, and it did. Twinkleshine blinked once and then stared at the mop with her head tilted off to one side. Trixie meanwhile, she looked down at the floor, which was both wet and dirty.

“Who stood my dance partner down on her head?” Twinkleshine asked, and Trixie began to snigger.

Grinning, Twinkleshine made the mop vanish, reverse-conjuring it back to the closet, and then she cast a spell that cleaned the entire entryway, leaving it spotless. She then puckered up, pointed her lips forwards, and blew away the little curl of smoke from her horn with a barrel-expanding huff. Trixie seemed impressed, and then looked Twinkleshine in the eye.

“We should teach Sumac how to do that.”

“Hmm.” Twinkleshine nodded, her head bobbing up and down. “We could make him practice magic and keep the house spotless, barring any disasters.”

“I’m pretty sure I could mess it up.” Sumac ignored Boomer, who was tugging on her frills and making a big show of her disapproval of his actions. “I’ve got skills.”

Trixie was just about to respond when there was a knock on the door. Twinkleshine and Trixie exchanged a look with one another, then both turned to the door, horns glowing. Both appeared calm, collected, and it was Trixie who pulled the door open, revealing their visitor who stood just outside.

“Maud!” Trixie stepped aside to allow Maud to come inside and made a gesture. “How are things? Is your new daughter getting settled in?”

Now inside, Maud moved away from the door, which was pushed shut. Boomer freaked out, did a backflip, and then began bouncing up and down on the couch cushion. Sumac somehow lifted up his foreleg to wave. Maud turned to face Trixie, blinked once, and then without warning, she embraced the blue unicorn in a warm, affectionate hug.

“Megara is wonderful,” Maud said in reply to Trixie’s question. “She’s having a little trouble adjusting, but she tries really hard. Tarnish keeps crying and I think he needs his friends. I know that Pebble needs her special somepony.” After a squeeze, Maud pulled away. “We should stick to the plan. Come over, stay with us. I think that Megara will do just fine with a few more ponies around. She might be half-manticore, but she is also half-pony, and that pony half comes from Tarnish.”

“Are you sure?” Trixie asked. “We don’t mind a little delay and we understand.”

“I’m absolutely positive.” Maud stood there, expressionless, and her words lacked any sort of engaging enthusiasm. “I came to help you haul everything over.”

Boomer gave herself a powerful bounce, and at the highest point, she kicked off against the back of the couch. This launched her across the room, and she spread out, stretching her membranes taut. Flattened out, she glided from the couch over to where Maud was, and landed upon the mare’s back. With lightning-quick movements, Boomer scrambled up Maud’s neck and perched upon her head. Maud’s eyes angled upwards, and the sight made everypony who saw it laugh.

“I rescued your egg,” Maud remarked in her own particular monotone. “Tarnish and I got into a big fight. There was a lot of punching, kicking, smashing, and whipping.”

While Maud spoke, Boomer pantomimed each one of these actions.

“One very dumb pony tried to hold your egg hostage,” Maud continued, telling her story in a flat, feelingless voice. “He threatened to smash it on the ground. The things that Tarnish did to that pony can’t be told in a story for foals or dragon hatchlings, but suffice it to say, he did bad things. He did very bad things, and I didn’t tell him to stop. Not right away. I’m not a nice pony after all. I hope I get rocks in my stocking.”

There was a gulp from Sumac on the couch. Perhaps he was imagining it, but he could almost hear the emphasis in Maud’s voice. Or maybe he had spent enough time around Maud to know the subtle inflections she added to the things she said. Trixie stood there, blinking, and then shivered with enough force to make her ears flop around. Grabbing one of Maud’s ears, Boomer clutched it in her claws and held it close to her thin body. Maud, still looking up, just stood there, looking at the hatchling perched on her head.

“I think that you and Megara are going to get along. I can’t wait to watch you both play together…”

Author's Note

So much went on in the background during the creation of this chapter. :rainbowlaugh:

Chapter 7

Maud was the best sled puller there was, period. Sumac’s sled was loaded down with stuff, some of which he wasn’t allowed to investigate. Those had to be presents and even though he tried to play it cool, thinking about them made him excited. The sled skimmed over the snow with no jerking, just a smooth glide that Sumac appreciated.

In the center of Ponyville, near the city hall, earth ponies, pegasus ponies, and unicorn ponies all worked together to erect a massive five-story tall holiday tree, which once secured, would be decorated so that the town might enjoy it. Holiday trees left Sumac feeling conflicted; on one hoof, they were pleasant to look at, but on the other hoof, there was a living tree that was cut down just to be decorated for the enjoyment of ponies.

“Trixie has been looking forward to this.” She paused for a moment, looking a little embarrassed, and glanced at Lemon Hearts, who trotted through the snow beside her. “This has changed my views on family and togetherness. I’m glad I have settled down and that I have all of you with me. This is all very difficult for Trixie to say.”

“I’m sure this is difficult,” Maud replied in deadpan. “For all those years, you were the mare on the run, fleeing from any sort of emotional attachment, always running, always fleeing. Tarnish got his feelings hurt, and to be honest, I did too, but we kept trying. So did a lot of other ponies.”

Sniffling a little, Trixie nodded, started to say something, but then didn’t. Her lower lip protruded, quivering, and her eyes were glazed over with tears. Yet, even with all of this emotion on display, she still looked happy. Lemon Hearts gave Trixie a full body bump and somehow, Trixie managed to give Lemon a brave smile in return.

“It all starts by coming home—”

“But Ponyville wasn’t my home,” Trixie said.

“Ahem, it all starts by coming home and letting ponies love you. That’s the hard part.” Maud turned her head to look over at Trixie while her hooves kept a perfect pace forwards. “It was the worst part for Tarnish, because he thought he had convinced himself that he was unloveable. You have no idea how unbelievably hard it was for him. I had to drag him along until such a time that he started to believe that he could be loved. Of course, I suffered from a few issues myself, but by sorting Tarnish out I sorted myself out. I was lucky that way, and I know that not every pony is quite so lucky. Under most circumstances, you have to sort yourself out before you can sort out another pony.”

“The road ended here.” Lemon Hearts’ voice had a slight catch to it. “You wore your legs out, Trixie… both physical and mental. There was just no running left.”

“And even with nothing left in me, I tried to run away. Even worse, I tried to leave Sumac behind. Trixie is… I am… I am glad that I was stopped and corralled up in one place for a while.” A single tear rolled down Trixie’s cheek, glistening in the freezing winter daylight while the corners of her mouth turned upwards. “Now, I can’t imagine life without my friends, without Sumac… without Twilight… and you and Twinkleshine, Lemon Hearts. I wake up every morning and just stare at both your faces for a while.”

Mares, Sumac thought to himself, silly creatures. He needed to wipe his nose and his eyes, but couldn’t. It was a little hard to breathe for some reason, and he sniffle-snorted a few times to sort himself out, trying to hide away any sort of nasal drippage. It wasn’t just mares, either, but fillies too. He couldn’t wait to see Pebble, it had been a while.

He wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

The mudroom had a curious lack of manticore spawn about it. Sitting on the floor, held up by Lemon Hearts, Sumac waited with patience while he was undressed. No Pebble had come to the door to greet him, leaving him feeling just a tiny bit disappointed. Sumac wondered why it was called a mudroom and not a back porch.

“You’re growing socks,” Maud remarked as she examined Sumac’s fetlocks.

“I can’t tell,” Sumac replied, being honest.

“How can you not see that?” Maud lowered her head down. “There is such a vivid contrast there. I’m thinking we need to get your eyes checked again. Does astigmatism affect how you see colour?” Sitting down, she began to fret over Sumac and with a gentle touch, she brushed his mane away from his face.

Blinking, Sumac realised that Maud had been acting a little funny as of late, she had been a lot more affectionate. Glancing at her stomach, he suspected that he knew why. Now, she was stroking his right ear, which felt good, it left him feeling relaxed and a little sleepy. Strange thoughts lurked in the back of Sumac’s mind, thoughts that left him unsettled, and his curiousity left him wondering what Pebble might be like someday, when she was going to have a foal of her own.

It was a grown up thought, and it troubled him.

“Tarnish?” Maud called out.

“We’re in here waiting,” Tarnish replied from the kitchen. “Nutmeg is behaving herself, but she keeps sniffing at the door.”

“Well, she’s feline.” Octavia’s voice sounded conflicted. “Well, sort of. She’s not a pony, Tarnish, sniffing is what she does when she doesn’t understand or know about something. We’re supposed to encourage her—”

“I haven’t told her to stop,” Tarnish said, interrupting.

Maud pulled Sumac closer, while Lemon Hearts’ magic kept him propped up. One foreleg wrapped around his body and Maud lowered her head down closer to Sumac’s ear. “Now, she gets excited, and she might be a little scary, but Meg is nice. She’s going to be curious about you and her way of saying hello is different. Okay?”

Sumac blinked once. “Okay.”

“Open the door,” Maud said in a flat voice.

And then, before Sumac had a chance to react, the door was opened, and it swung into the mudroom. In the doorway, he saw… something that defied description. She was chocolate brown, like Tarnish, with a dusky, cinnamony red mohawk. What unnerved Sumac was that her fiery orange eyes were actually glowing in the faint light, or appeared to be. She had whiskers and an underbite. She also had leathery, membranous wings that were folded against her sides.

Finding the strength that allowed movement, Sumac made a feeble wave with his hoof, after somehow lifting up off of the floor. “Hi.” Just behind the curious creature, he saw Pebble, but he had trouble remaining focused upon her, because Megara was on the move. The sight of her stalking forwards made his heart start thudding against his ribs.

He didn’t mean to be scared, he didn’t want to be rude, but something about her slow, predatory gait was terrifying. Sumac wiggled a bit and pressed himself against Maud, thankful for her presence, and he tried to control his breathing. Manticores were dangerous, devious monsters, and most of his foalhood had been spent fearing what every foal feared; manticores.

“Remember, Meg, no pouncing. He’s fragile. If you have to pounce something, you pounce me,” Pebble deadpanned.

Before Megara could reach Sumac, there was a trumpeting blast from Boomer, and then the little dragon lept down onto the floor, putting herself between Sumac and Megara. Boomer inflated, doing her best chuckwalla impression, and all of her spines and frills stood out. Megara paused mid-step, then crouched low, her tail swishing from side to side.

Nopony moved.

Nopony seemed to even breathe.

Boomer was far too tiny to be threatening, but she was fearless. She hissed and smoke streamed from her tiny pinprick nostrils. Rearing up on her hind legs, she waved her front claws around and did everything she could to make herself appear larger than she was. Her own tail slashing from side to side, Boomer began making belching sounds.

“Megara, darling, don’t move,” Maud said, her voice low and flat. “Boomer, please don’t set anything on fire.”

“Mreow?” Megara’s head tilted off to one side and her attention was now on the dragon before her.

In response, Boomer hissed and began to jump up and down while swaying from side to side. Pebble was up on her hooves now, her ears angled forwards, and there was a distinct look of worry upon her face. Sumac could feel all of his muscles tensing as two of nature’s predators continued to size each other up.

Then, the most peculiar thing happened. Megara flopped down, rolled over, and showed her belly. Right away, Boomer deflated and dropped into a far more relaxed state. Sumac wanted to know, who had taught them to do this? To behave like this? How did they know how to communicate? They both shared a similar language it seemed, an unspoken language, and Sumac was fascinated by what he had witnessed.

What agreement had been reached?

Without warning, Megara was on her paws again, but in a crouched position, her tail swishing from side to side, and Boomer began flexing her claws against the stone floor. Tarnish was now standing beside his daughter, Pebble, and he had a look of paternal concern upon his face. Most of the adults present let out a cry of startled surprise when Megara took off running, shooting between her father’s legs, and Boomer took off in hot pursuit.

“RAWR!” Boomer rawred as she went skittering after the fleeing manticore spawn.

“GRAWR!” Megara grawred in reply while scampering through the kitchen, chased by a much smaller dragon.

Octavia was almost bowled over and it was only her dancer’s grace that saved her from a spill. Megara ran a lap around her, then a second, and with a yowl, the manticore spawn went shooting out of the kitchen with Boomer hot on her heels, leaving behind an entire herd of confused ponies, all of whom were blinking while making startled, bewildered pony noises.

Tarnish, the first to recover, asked, “What just happened?”

To which his daughter Pebble replied, “Megara just made her first friend… I think?”

Feeling a little miffed, Sumac sat on the kitchen floor with his head propped up on a cushion. He could hear Boomer, Pebble, and Megara playing with Tarnish in the other room, and Megara had no interest in him, probably because he was boring. The scent of tea was strong in his nostrils, and the adults were moving about the kitchen, doing whatever it was that they were doing.

It was Vinyl who came over to be with him, and Sumac was thankful for this. He was feeling a bit glum that Pebble had gone off to the other room to be with the others. His master moved with a bit of extra pep in her step today, and when she sat down, she didn’t ease herself down like Granny Smith might do. Vinyl seemed… better. She also seemed happy. Reaching out one foreleg, she booped him on the nose, and Sumac felt his mane suffer an explosive change.

Now, he had a spiky mohawk with all of the colours of a zap apple, and Vinyl was grinning.

It was not to last though. Trixie, who had been peeling potatoes, stopped what she was doing, dropped the paring knife down upon the table, got up, crossed the kitchen, and sat down beside Sumac. Brows furrowed, she stared at Vinyl, challenging her, and with one raised foreleg, she too, booped Sumac on the nose.

Now his mane was its usual self once more.

Vinyl, not to be outdone, stared Trixie right in the eye, and the corners of her mouth tugged downwards while Trixie shook her head from side to side. When Vinyl raised her hoof, Trixie’s eyes narrowed, and Sumac could not help but feel that he was trapped, stuck in the middle of this contest of wills. When Vinyl booped him, his mane exploded back into a riotous state.

Saying nothing, Trixie booped him too, and his mane went limp while losing its garish colours. Octavia and Maud were watching now, while also exchanging glances with one another. Lemon Hearts, not content to watch, came over with her ears pinned back in a submissive manner, and she sat down just behind Sumac.

“Hey, girls, what’s going on?” Lemon Hearts asked.

Reaching out, Vinyl replied by booping Sumac’s nose and causing his mane to explode once more into a spiky, zap apple coloured mess. Before Trixie could respond, before she could boop her son, Lemon Hearts intervened. Reaching around Sumac, she placed a lemony yellow hoof on his nose with a light tap, and his mane poofed into a slick-looking pompadour.

Vinyl recoiled in horror and so did Trixie. Both mares pulled their heads back, cringing in disgust, and Sumac couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, other than his mane felt really weird and kind of greasy right now. It was Vinyl who reacted first, and she booped Sumac on the snoot, trying to fix Lemon Hearts’ dastardly enchantment.

Once again, Sumac’s mane exploded.

Trixie, taking exception to this, did not touch Sumac, but instead she booped Vinyl. With a touch, all of Vinyl’s signature shocking colours vanished, and her mane became pale white, almost translucent. It was limp too, hanging down in straight, almost lifeless strands. Octavia began sniggering, and she covered her muzzle with her fetlock.

Not one to be outdone, Vinyl booped Trixie back, and Trixie’s mane reacted… poorly. It turned a gross shade of half-rotten avocado greenish-brown while exploding into a mess of dense curls. It looked like a clown’s wig, but grosser. Sumac couldn’t bear to look at it, and apparently, neither could Lemon Hearts, because she covered her eyes with both front hooves and let out a shrill squeak.

Just as everything was about to go topsy-turvy, it was Twinkleshine who rescued Sumac. In a flash, he was teleported away from the foalish adults and into the waiting embrace of the pearlescent mare. With a boop, she undid all of the current enchantments on Sumac’s mane, returning it to its natural state, and then cradled him, rocking him back and forth while both Vinyl and Trixie turned on poor Lemon Hearts, whose only mistake had been getting involved.

“Unicorns.” Octavia let out a sniff and turned to look at Maud. “Silly creatures, the lot of them. Sometimes, honestly, I am confounded by whatever it is I see in her.”

“I brought one home to meet my parents,” Maud replied, shaking her head. “What does that say about me?” She elbowed Octavia in the ribs and then added, “I have a wicked craving for pumpkin. Help me.”

Author's Note

Now, if you will excuse me, I have rum to sip.

Chapter 8

“Oh look, they didn’t even make it till dinner,” Tarnish said in a low, soft whisper while he gestured over at the little fuzzy (and one scaly) bodies piled on the couch. “We should do something to mess with them.” Turning his head, he began checking for approval amongst the various ponies present in the living room.

“Oh no,” Lemon Hearts moaned, shaking her head. “It would be wrong to violate their trust. We shouldn’t mess with them.”

It was too late though, Tarnish seemed determined on his course of action and with Maud at his side, looking up at him, pranking seemed inevitable. Trixie remained neutral, while Twinkleshine showed some mild interest. Lemon, soft hearted, focused her attention on Maud, and then began to plead with her, trying to appeal to her maternal side.

“Maud, how could you?” Lemon whispered.

“It’s easy,” Maud deadpanned. “I squirted that out from my loins”—she gestured at Pebble—“and now it is complicated to have satisfying coitus with my husband without her interfering somehow. She must pay. Megara will also be guilty of this crime, no doubt, so I consider this a preemptive strike.”

Hearing this made Lemon’s mouth drop open into a round ‘O’ of horror.

Sleeping the sleep of the innocent, Sumac’s ear twitched, which made Tarnish as well as Maud both go silent and still. Octavia now stood beside Maud, and the two mares exchanged a knowing look with one another, then looked down at the sleeping form of Megara. Vinyl sealed their fate by placing a soundproofing spell over the couch, and the albino mare gave Tarnish what could only be described as a soul-chilling, wicked grin.

“We could learn something here,” Trixie said to Twinkleshine. “I like this idea of preemptive parenting.”

Nodding, Twinkleshine replied, “Indeed.”

“So, what is the plan?” Octavia seemed rather giddy and was bouncing in place.

“Balloons,” Tarnish replied with a nod. “Balloons.”

With an explosion of confetti and the honk of a mysterious kazoo, Pinkie Pie appeared, and nopony did so much as bat their eyelids. She smooched Tarnish on the cheek once—because she appeared somehow in the shadow he cast—then she greeted her sister Maud with a kiss, and offered Octavia a gentle rub on her side. With a crazy look in her blue eyes, Pinkie looked down at the sleeping foals.

“Did somepony say ‘balloons?’” Pinkie bounced in place, flexing her knees, and her voice became an excited squeal. “Did I miss dinner? Sorry I’m late, I was helping Twilight cheer up Adventus. He has the holiday sads.”

“We were just about to have a little before-dinner entertainment.” Octavia pulled Pinkie Pie into a tight, warm hug, which Pinkie returned. “Poor Adventus. Perhaps tomorrow Lemon Hearts and I will go and visit him. A little music along with some tea and sympathy might set him straight.”

With her hind leg, Pinkie Pie scratched behind her ear—after a few strokes, a whole mess of balloons fell out of her mane and down to the floor. Tarnish snatched one up, used a little magic to inflate it, and then tied it off. Grinning in the worst way possible, he began rubbing the balloon up and down his chocolate-brown hide, generating static. Once he had sufficient static, he let out what could only be described as an evil chortle, then held the balloon over Pebble’s head.

When he relaxed his magic, the balloon shot down to Pebble and clung to her head with the crackle of static electricity. Pinkie was busy with her own balloon magic, inflating balloons and tying them off with a multitude of squeaks. When she had one finished, she passed it to her sister Maud, who began rubbing it up and down her neck. This made Maud’s mane begin to stand up and little arcs of lightning could be seen around her ears.

While her husband continued his evil chuckle, Maud stuck the balloon to Sumac’s side, where it rose and fell with each breath he took. Trixie was laughing now, and so was Twinkleshine. The pair of them crept closer to the couch with the intent to join the mayhem. Trixie picked up a blue balloon, and Twinkleshine found a pink one on the floor.

“Join us,” Tarnish said to Lemon Hearts, “join us and begin your journey to the dim side.” He finished up a balloon and stuck it to Megara, who had Boomer curled up in her forelegs.

“I don’t know if I should.” Lemon Hearts shook her head. “I suppose a little innocent prank couldn’t hurt anything, right? I mean, we’re being playful, and not malicious, right?”

“Be one of us, Lemon.” Octavia’s voice was pure silk and she made an inviting come-hither gesture to bring the lemony yellow mare closer, so that she might be drawn in. “This is unbelievably fun. It’s the reason why Vinyl and I wanted one of our own, so we could have the opportunity to mess with it every chance we had.”

“Oooh.” Lemon let out a squeal and shook her head as she took her first step towards the dim side. “I can’t believe I’m about to help the Dark Lord Flornicator carry out his nefarious plans. What have I become—”

“Dark Lord Flornicator?” Tarnish’s ears splayed out sideways. “Did you just call me a floral fornicator?”

Pausing, Lemon nodded, blinked once, and gave Tarnish an apprehensive glance.

Tarnish handed Lemon an inflated balloon and let out an evil laugh. “Now join us, little Lemon… join us or die! Mwahahahahahaha!”

Pebble awoke to a very confused sounding “MEOW!” and found herself in a confounding cocoon of colours. She blinked once, heard another bewildered “MEOW!” and then the confounding cocoon of colours shifted, some of them moving, and the static-crackle of electricity filled her ears. Somehow, Pebble sat up, fighting to do so, as she was suffering her own confusion and didn’t know what was going on.

Megara fell off of the couch and tumbled down to the floor, where she rolled around on her back, kicking her legs, trying to get free from… a whole mess of balloons? Pebble blinked as this realisation set in, but she didn’t have time to process it all. She heard Sumac cry out, and, fearing he was in danger, every muscle went rigid as Sumac too, slid off of the couch.

He was too fragile to fall, so Pebble used her strength and dexterity to launch herself. Somersaulting from the couch, she landed on the floor hooves first just in time to see a faint magical aura appear around Sumac. As fast as Pebble was, magic was still faster, a fact of life that she loathed.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Sumac, who was encased in balloons, was set down on the floor, and he began to scramble around, much to Pebble’s amazement. She guessed that it probably had something to do with adrenaline jumping through his new connections, somehow forcing them to work. Megara yowled, trying to be rid of the balloons that clung to every square inch of her chocolate brown hide.

The laughter of many adults filled Pebble’s ears and made them burn. There would be a reckoning for this, no doubt, but that would come later. Ignoring the many balloons clinging to her, Pebble went after Sumac, worried that he would fall or otherwise get hurt if his legs decided to stop working all of a sudden.

Boomer lept from the sofa, claws extended, and she began attacking the balloons clinging to Megara. The first balloon popped—a terrific sound—and this startled Megara something awful, frightening her. The manticore spawn was on her paws in a flash and then scurried to the shadowy sanctuary that existed beneath the couch. A pitiful yowl could be heard from the shadows, and another balloon popped. Realising that Sumac was also in trouble, Boomer scrambled over the floor on all fours, her tail slapping from side to side, and smoke curled up from her nostrils.

There was a thump when Tarnish fell over to the floor, pulling Pinkie Pie down with him, and Pebble cast a quick stony glare at her father while trying to reach Sumac. No doubt, her mother was also having the time of her life, and the living room was filled with riotous laughter. Even worse, Pebble realised, was that Vinyl had filmed the whole thing with the motion picture camera.

Oh yes, there would be a reckoning for this.

As a big wooden spoonful of potatoes au gratin was plopped onto his plate, Sumac felt a wet, curious snuffle against his neck, at the base of his jaw. Megara, who sat beside him, was checking him out, and it tickled something awful. Much to his own surprise, he was able to hold his head up on his own. Being scared stupid had done something to him, and he found himself with quite a bit of control over his extremities. Next came some peas, followed by paprika glazed carrots.

“So, feeding Megara,” Lemon Hearts said to Tarnish as she served herself some food onto her plate, having finished with Sumac’s.

“As it turns out, she’s capable of being an omnivore, due to being part pony,” Tarnish replied as his eyes went back and forth from Megara, his daughter, to Lemon Hearts, his friend. “She can get most of her special dietary requirements from eggs and dairy, with the occasional supplement of things like fish, shrimp, and shellfish. We just have to make sure she gets taurine, due to her felinoid nature. Fluttershy is going to help us make sure she stays healthy.”

“Hmm.” Lemon Hearts looked curious and she turned to face both Sumac and Megara.

“Taurine can be found in brewer’s yeast and certain types of seaweed. I found out there are vegetarian griffons from Fluttershy.” Tarnish waved his fork around like a conductor’s wand and grinned, looking pleased with all he knew. “I’m going to leave that choice up to my little Nutmeg though.”

Then, without warning, Megara licked him and Sumac let out a startled gurgle as her rough, sandpapery tongue was dragged over his cheek. The manticore spawn’s whiskers tickled him. With a sniff, Sumac knew that she had bad breath—carnivore breath—and copious quantities of drool left the colt soaked. How did one respond to such an act? Sumac could only think of one way.

“UGH!”

“From what I’ve been able to figure out, Megara only licks things she considers hers,” Pebble explained while Megara once more licked Sumac. “She’s licked all of us, she got Octavia first, and I think it is her way of being affectionate. Should I feel brave enough, at some later junction I might try licking her back just to see what might happen.”

“I feel wet,” Sumac stated in a wavering voice.

“You nice.” Megara reached up and wiped Sumac’s face with her paw while her tail swished around behind her. “Taste like spark magic.”

Without any warning whatsoever, Tarnish burst into tears and began crying, which was difficult for Sumac to see. The colt sat there, confused by his own sudden feelings, and he felt Megara pull away from him. He wished that she hadn’t, because he suddenly felt alone and vulnerable. Big, strong ponies like Tarnish weren’t supposed to cry, and Sumac had no idea what he was feeling.

It was Maud that reacted first, and after wrapping her forelegs around him, she pulled him closer. Sumac felt eyes on him and after a quick look around, his eyes darting to and fro, he discovered Pebble was staring at him. Why? Why was she staring at him, and not her father? Beside him, Megara let out a confused-sounding whimper.

“I lost so many years,” Tarnish murmured with his eyes closed.

With the soft rustle of fuzz against wood, Pinkie Pie slipped out of her chair and trotted over to where Tarnish was sitting. She stood beside him, squeezing herself between Tarnish and Vinyl, who sat on his opposite side. With a soft whinny, she nosed him, pressing her muzzle against his neck while her sister Maud stroked him.

It was a confusing family moment that Sumac did not understand. It left him bewildered, as he and Trixie hadn’t behaved like this during their travels, and even now, even after all of the changes, things still felt awkward. They were struggling to learn, to come together, to behave and act like family. Without Lemon Hearts, things might be a real mess.

“Why crying?” Megara asked, her own voice creaking with emotional strain, and her ears were limp, as was her tail.

“Your daddy loves you very much,” Octavia replied, doing her earth pony best to take up the slack. “He loves you very much and he wants to keep you. We all want to keep you. You didn’t do anything wrong, so you don’t need to worry. Your daddy just has some feelings that he needs to sort out, but you shouldn’t worry because you make him happy.”

Not knowing any better, Megara lept up from her chair and onto the table. Mindful of the food, she crossed treacherous territory to make it to Tarnish, then flung herself at him. She hung from his neck with her forelegs wrapped tight around him, and her tail swished up against Maud’s face.

“At least she didn’t step in the potatoes,” Pebble said, and then she began eating.

Author's Note

Had to do a bit of studying about felinoids and taurine. Interesting stuff indeed.

Chapter 9

Pebble’s bed was crowded, but Sumac didn’t mind. He was sandwiched between the filly and the wall, in a spot where he was safe from rolling out of the bed and falling down to the floor, which was a pressing concern. At home, his own bed had a rail on the side of it, a rail that would remain until such a time he was recovered.

The bedroom was cold, much, much colder than his own, as this house did not have a furnace and heat vents. Of course, this place had started off as a barracks and over the many years had grown into something else, a vast meandering space that Sumac adored. The cold wasn’t so bad though, because the bed itself was toasty with so many bodies in it.

Everything in Pebble’s room had a fresh fireproofing spell on it for Boomer.

As for Boomer herself, the little dragoness was already sound asleep, making the warm space beneath the heavy blankets smell like wood smoke with a hint of rotten eggs. It was a smell that Sumac now associated with warmth, safety, and affection. Boomer had her own bed at home, a basket with a colourful embroidered cushion, but she had never slept in it.

The room, Pebble’s room, didn’t look like a foal’s room. It was more like a study that just so happened to have a bed in it. Pebble had a few toys, but from the looks of them, it appeared as though she did not play with them. Like so many other fillies, she had a collection of princess plushies, with the curious addition of a Prince Blueblood doll. Pebble’s reasoning? Prince Blueblood supported the arts and the sciences, and by extension, supported her parents and family.

Ownership of the doll was due to gratitude.

“Pebble?” Sumac’s voice had the quiet softness that only colts have when they are quite young. Beside him, Pebble stirred and he felt her foreleg slide over his side as she rolled over to face him. He found himself snoot to snoot with her, which somehow made the bed even warmer. With Pebble’s warm body right beside him, keeping the chill of winter away, Sumac understood why this quaint Trottingham tradition persisted.

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy having a sister?” Sumac, with Pebble right beside him, he became aware of the sound of Megara breathing. Without meaning to do so, he had put Pebble on the spot, and he hoped that she wouldn’t be angry or otherwise upset with him. He hadn’t given much thought to the question before asking it, such as the subject of said question being right here.

“Having a sister is the most wonderful thing in the world,” Pebble said in a muted whisper. “I have a job now. I’m Meg’s teacher and I’m supposed to teach her everything she needs to know. I’ve been left in charge, because my parents trust me.” The filly went silent for a moment, and there was a faint static crackle as various bodies shifted around in the bed, rubbing against the woollen flannel sheets.

“At first, I was a bit miffed about having to share my parents”—Pebble’s confession made her voice sound a little strained, robbing it of its usual flat intonation—“but then I realised what I was getting in return. It was a fair exchange. Now I am looking forward to being a big sister, but I’m still trying to sort a few things out.”

“Like what?” Sumac asked.

“Well, Meg calls both Octavia and Vinyl ‘Mom.’ I call them my aunts. Now I am reconsidering. I think… I think I’ve resented them just a little bit because they’ve remained separate and everypony isn’t married like I’d like for them to be. I’ve been bossy, rude, demanding, and maybe, just maybe, just a tiny bit monstrous. Just yesterday, before you came, I called Octavia ‘Mum’ and she got all weepy about it.”

“Oh.” Sumac wasn’t sure what to say about that. When your special somepony said she was monstrous, how did one respond to that? What was the proper etiquette? He was going to have to ask Lemon Hearts about that one, just to be certain. The colt put an immense amount of trust in that Lemon would have all of the answers he would ever need in life.

“By calling them my aunts, I think I was calling attention to the fact that we’re together, but separate. I don’t know. I’ve been having conversations inside of my own head for the past few days now and I’m not happy with myself, at all. I’ve really been an unhappy filly for a while now, and Megara… Nutmeg makes me happy.”

“Happy?” Megara’s voice was a sort of mix between a rough purr and soft velvet.

“Yes, you make me happy,” Pebble responded.

“This not like manticore pride.” Megara’s voice now had a waver to it, and it varied in pitch, becoming almost nasal. “Megara runt. Chewed on. Chomped on. Megara sent away to live with food. Megara have dreams about blue pony and blue pony tell Megara to go north to find pink pony. Blue pony make a star shine bright so Megara know which way to go. Megara the Lioness follow star at night.”

“That’s amazing,” Sumac whispered in awe. Megara had just said more in one go than she had all night, and Sumac began to understand just how much power Princess Luna had.

“Now, Megara happy. Have sister that not chew on head.”

“Head chewing is frowned upon in this house,” Pebble deadpanned. “We have rules. No head chewing and no harm is to come to Sumac, because he had his neck broken by Queen Chrysalis and he’s fragile. Also, we brush our teeth before bedtime, because carnivore breath is awful. Yuck.”

Yawning, Sumac wondered if he would dream of Princess Luna this night, when sleep came.

All of the world was pink. So much pink. Sumac blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the world was pink. The bed was warm and the air was cold, a pleasant, wonderful contrast. It felt good to breath invigourating cold air into his lungs while his body remained warm and toasty.

While he continued to wake, his legs twitched, something they were doing more and more. This made him happy, and with a great deal of effort, he was able to snuggle against the warm, pink, fuzzy body beside him. Some of the cobwebs cleared from his mind and he realised that Pinkie Pie was in the bed with him.

“No, Pinny, you can’t use my niece as a bowling ball,” Pinkie murmured as her body twitched. “Well… okay… if you insist, but I want a turn too.”

What?

“Pinkie, wake up,” Sumac said, and he used his magic to tug on her ear.

With a snort, Pinkie’s eyes opened, and she looked bewildered for a moment. “Did I get a strike?”

“Pinkie, help me, I need to go potty.” Sumac began to feel panicked by the strong urge to go, and his control over his body was still pretty weak at times. Then, unable to help himself, he asked, “What are you doing in Pebble’s bed?”

“Oh, the big bed was crowded and my sister’s farts smelled like rancid pumpkin,” Pinkie replied in a half-awake voice.

Unable to stop himself, Sumac began to giggle, which didn’t help his problem, not one bit.

All of a sudden, Pinkie Pie’s eyes flew wide open and her whole body tensed while her curly mane stood on end, a manifestation of her Pinkie sense. “Potty emergency! A foal has a potty emergency! Oh my gosh, potty emergency!” And with that, Pinkie Pie was wide awake and ready to go.

Sumac too, was ready to go, and he hoped that Pinkie would get him there on time.

The kitchen was cold, but warming. Frost made beautiful, exquisite patterns on the glass windows, which were fascinating to look at. A roaring fire had been revived from the embers in the fireplace, filling the kitchen with warmth and light. Boomer sat in the fire and refused to come out, as the floors were just too cold.

Sumac had a unique problem that he did not have a solution to. His hind legs were faster than his front legs for some reason, and when he hobbled around the kitchen, enjoying his newfound movement, his backside veered off to one side or the other. Being scared silly had done something to wake up his connections, but it was still a big strain, a struggle, a battle to hold his head up.

Vinyl, only half-awake, shuffled around the kitchen while the tea and coffee were being made. There was democracy in action and the question had been posed, “What’s for breakfast?” Alas, there was no answer, not yet, and in general, ponies were not awake enough to respond. A tyrant was needed to decide upon a breakfast fit for all of them.

A not-quite-awake Lemon Hearts sat on a plush cushion near the fireplace, holding a dozing Trixie close to her. Some ponies might rise in the morning, but then would refuse to shine. Twinkleshine however, seemed a bit more awake and aware than most ponies standing around in the kitchen, waiting for warm, restorative elixirs to be made.

“I have a big day planned for us,” Tarnish announced. His eyelids looked heavy and were only half-open. “To start things off, everypony is going to pair up with somepony, and this morning, we’re going to make birdhouses. All of the pieces and parts have all been pre-cut and just need to be put together. We’ll get creative with paint and decorating them. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Twinkleshine seemed to be the adult pony most awake enough to respond. “I need a partner to help me make a home.” While she was still speaking, Twinkleshine blinked once and then her cheeks turned as pink as her mane. When the last word left her mouth, she began to giggle while her ears twitched.

Maud, still wearing her nightgown and covered in a blanket, angled her head to look up at her husband and said, “You and Megara should work together. Here’s a chance to make a memory and get a little much needed Daddy-Daughter time.”

Tarnish did not respond right away, and Sumac somehow managed to lift his head enough to look up at the tall stallion. He was looking at Megara, who was sitting on the hearth, watching Boomer in the fireplace with a look of intense fascination upon her feline-equine face. After a moment, Tarnish smiled and his eyes grew moist, but he did not start crying, much to Sumac’s relief.

“I get Pebble,” Octavia announced.

“What?” Sumac wobbled about, trying to turn around to look at Octavia. “What? No!”

“Sorry Sumac… but you’ll have to share. She called me ‘Mum’ finally and it’s about bloody time. I had myself a good cry about it and now I need some Pebble time.” Octavia, covered in a blanket, shuffled over to where Sumac stood, lowered her head down, and touched snoots with him. “I’m right sorry. Tell you what, the three of us will work together. How’s that?”

Was this mommy hormones? It might be. Blushing a little from the snoot bump, Sumac looked into Octavia’s eyes and saw an ocean of emotion. Octavia was his special friend and fellow introvert. After a few seconds, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend the morning than with two of his best friends. With each breath she took, Sumac could smell and feel minty coolness against the soft pad of his snoot.

“That’d be great.”

“Watching the two of you grow up together is going to be a treat,” Octavia murmured while she reached out with one foreleg to stroke Sumac’s cheek. “A mother has such hopes and dreams. There are going to be so many wonderful moments that I’ll be able to bear witness to.” The grey earth pony mare began to sniffle, and she pulled away from Sumac. “I’m sorry, I’ve been very emotional lately.”

“It’s okay,” Sumac replied. “You can talk to me if you need to. We can sit on a cushion together and get wrapped up in a blanket, if you’d like. Or, we could just be quiet together. That’s nice too.” While speaking, Sumac tried not to think about how many eyes were focused on him at this moment, or how uncomfortable it was.

Emerging from the hallway, Pinkie Pie yawned and gave herself a shake to be rid of the chill. Then, after smacking her lips together a few times, she said, “This reminds me of home. It got a little cold in the winter and we’d all gather together in the kitchen, and Mama’s stove kept us warm. You don’t realise you miss it until you haven’t had it for a while. This is great.” Crossing the kitchen, Pinkie Pie went to stand beside her sister, Maud.

Meanwhile, Octavia was making good on Sumac’s offer, and she pulled him closer while she got comfortable on a cushion. Hugging him close, she wrapped her blanket around the both of them, and then only Sumac’s head could be seen, peeping out from where the base of her neck was.

For Sumac, all of this just reinforced his belief of what he wanted in life, a big family gathered around a hearth. It was a profound desire now, and he felt a keen need to put down roots. This was the happiest he had been in a while, and wrapped in a blanket with Octavia, he felt warm, safe, and secure. This was shaping up to be a perfect morning, and everypony needed a perfect morning once in awhile.

Pebble, her eyelids sagging, approached Octavia and Sumac and asked, “Is there room for me?”

As it turned out, there was, and Octavia opened up her embrace for Pebble to join them. Sumac shivered, feeling the chill in the air while Pebble clambered up onto the cushion and sat down beside him. Then, Octavia wrapped her forelegs around them both, and the blanket formed a barrier that kept the cold out.

“I’m gonna bake a quiche!” Pinkie Pie announced, becoming the tyrant the family needed.

Maud, her ears perking, showed some interest in Pinkie’s outburst. “Can you make one with pumpkin? A whole one. Just for me? I’d appreciate that.”

Author's Note

Now with a new and improved edited version. Yay!

Chapter 10

It didn’t matter that the room was cold, all Sumac could feel was an exquisite, life-affirming warmth that seemed to radiate through his bones. Tarnish and Maud were dancing, a slow-moving yet still spirited dance. Watching them made Sumac feel funny, as if he would be overcome with emotions, and for reasons he did not understand, he kept thinking of Pebble.

There was something about the way they danced, looking into one another’s eyes, forelegs wrapped around one another—Sumac had never seen anything quite like it. Tarnish was tall on four legs, and a giant on two. Maud was shorter, but that didn’t matter. She looked up, he looked down, and the pair of them moved as if they were somehow weightless.

There seemed to be no reason behind it, Sumac could not understand the purpose. They were not dressed up, there was no music, Tarnish had just moved in, swept Maud up, and then began pirouetting with her around the room. It was easier to understand now why they wanted such a large house—it gave them room to dance. Around and around they went, swaying, sashaying, dipping, and sometimes smooching, when Tarnish bent his long neck down.

The kissing was awkward, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to look at. If anypony asked, Sumac would have to say it was gross on principle, because he had a reputation to uphold and because, deep down, kissing really was gross. Yuck.

Was this family? Having dance partners? The hows and the whys mystified Sumac. Now, Pinkie Pie was getting involved, and as it turned out, she too, was a splendid dancer. Giggling, she pulled Trixie up off of the cushion on the floor, (who wanted to sit on the cold stone, anyhow) and waltzed the Befuddled and Protesting Trixie around the room while everypony watched. The dance was strange to watch. It was too close, too touchy to just be a friendly, casual dance, and Sumac wondered if it was something more.

What was family? Sumac asked this question often, and while watching Maud and Tarnish dance, he wondered; were families engines for creating memories? One day, all of this would be a pleasant memory, something he would look back and reflect upon. In the future, he might even share a dance with Pebble, hoping to relive this wonderful memory and bring it to life once more.

The pale light of morning streamed in through the windows, filling the room with golden haze and illuminating the floating dust motes. The room was filled with curios, knick knacks, shelves, racks, and all manner of fascinating stuff. In a glass display case over the fireplace mantle, there was not one, but two guns, curious things, a small, silver pistol and a tremendous shotgun that had etched images of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna on the barrels.

Sumac noticed none of these things at the moment, so enraptured was he at the sight of the adults in his life dancing with one another. There was no music, yet the motions seemed to follow some sense of rhythm, some means of time. Trixie was now making a valiant effort to dance, and the tip of her tongue stuck out in concentration. Pinkie Pie was into the moment, enjoying herself, and it seemed as if she gave no thought to what she was doing.

“It’s funny,” Pebble whispered as she leaned over and placed her muzzle next to Sumac’s ear. “I used to watch my parents dance and sometimes, it would fill me with rage because I wanted to be the center of attention. Sometimes, I still feel a little jealous, to be honest, but I think I’m getting better, because now I feel happy sometimes when I watch them dance.”

“Only sometimes?” Sumac asked, evoking the sort of honesty only found in foals.

“Well, I haven’t sorted everything out just yet,” Pebble replied and her ears went limp. “I’m still sorting everything out, ya know? Not everything is fixed yet. But having you around helps, because you’re nice to me and you pay me attention. It’s something my mother and I have in common. We’re both complete saps for somepony that pays us attention. We’ve talked about it a lot.”

“You’re the weirdest filly I know and I can’t ignore you.” Sumac’s statement caused much heavy breathing in Pebble, and that caused a curious rush of excitement in the colt. He didn’t know why he liked the sound of her heavy breathing, or why it made his heart race, but like it he did and he began to wonder what else he might say to make her breathe hard. “You’re just so weird. What else can I do with you?”

Now, Pebble sounded like a train and Sumac was delighted in his newfound power.

The pieces of the birdhouse were sprawled out on the floor, along with various arts and crafts supplies. Pebble wanted to make a stone cottage birdhouse, and thanks to Sumac’s telekinesis, such a thing was possible. Pebble had a bag of decorative gravel stashed away in her room—such a thing was common for earth ponies—only now it was on the floor beside the pre-cut wooden birdhouse pieces. No hot glue gun was needed, another advantage to being a unicorn.

“I have an idea on how we can do a thatched roof,” Sumac said.

“You do?” both Pebble and Octavia said together.

Sumac managed to nod, which was quite an accomplishment. “If we get a section of hemp rope about a half a foot long and unravel it, we can use the strands and make them look like thatch.”

“Hmm,” Octavia hummed as she reached up and rubbed her chin. “That’s boxing clever.”

The sunlight that came through the window like a flood was warming up the room now, along with the crackling fire. The stone floor was beginning to get a hint of warmth in it as the sun shone upon it, and by evening time, there would be significant heat trapped in the stone, so much so that it might even be almost pleasant enough to walk on.

But for now, cold frogs!

It was Pebble who lept up and went off in search of rope, leaving Sumac and Octavia alone together. Meanwhile, Tarnish and Megara were having the time of their lives together, along with Boomer, who was inexplicably awake somehow. Pinkie Pie and Trixie were making a birdhouse together, a pairing that confused Sumac a little bit, as they would no doubt want very different things from a birdhouse. Vinyl and Maud were making a go of things and Vinyl had a wide, crazy smile. Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine were sipping tea and just staring at their birdhouse parts.

“I’ve been thinking about being a mom,” Sumac whispered to Octavia, and right away, he regretted his choice of words. A hot blush appeared on his cheeks, and it was made even worse when Octavia started giggling.

“Have you now?” Octavia asked in a muted voice.

“I mean, what makes a mom. I mean… I started calling Trixie mom and things changed between us. She didn’t give birth to me, but she’s still my mom, and that’s kinda confusing, because that means that anypony can be your mom, really, and you can have more than one mother, and the more I think about it, the more confusing it gets, and now Pebble is starting to think of you as her mom, and it all has me thinking.”

“Ah yes, the introvert’s need to categorise all of their various relationships.” Octavia took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it all out in a long, thoughtful sigh. “I too, have been thinking about what defines a family. It’s all very confusing, really. Vinyl and I are no longer a couple, not like we once were. Our lives are interwoven with Maud and Tarnish. To be honest, I haven’t quite figured out what we all are, just yet. I’d like to be Pebble’s mother. And when I have my foal, I want my foal to see Pebble as their sister. Not half-sister, but just sister. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what constitutes a family. What brings us together? What does it all mean?”

“It seems to me that life is all about making bonds and then figuring out what to name them,” Sumac said, putting his complicated thoughts into simple words.

“Oh, that’s very wise, Sumac.” Sighing again, Octavia reached out and pulled Sumac into a cuddle. “What happens when you can no longer call yourselves just friends… I am madly, deeply in love with Tarnish, and Maud too… but it isn’t a love acknowledged by physical affection. I must confess, Sumac, there are times when I just don’t have everything as sorted out as much as I’d like.”

“Things get complicated, don’t they?” Sumac murmured as he felt Octavia’s heart beating against his back.

“Oh, for certain. And one day, things are going to get complicated between you and Pebble.”

“They already are,” Sumac confessed. “We’ve done things, Pebble and I. I’ve kissed her and she’s kissed me back. It was gross. I keep having dreams about kissing her, and they’re super-gross. I wish Princess Luna would stop teasing me.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Octavia began giggling and she did her best not to shake Sumac. She tightened her embrace around him and pressed her fine chin into one of his fuzzy ears. In that moment, Sumac realised that he and Octavia had something that went beyond simple friendship, but he had no idea, no clue what it might be, what to call it, or how to label it so it could be properly expressed.

It took a lot of concentration and effort to affix each pebble into place with a spot of hot glue, but Sumac was managing. The birdhouse was put together, each piece was held in place with a combination of tongues, grooves, and pegs. The thatched roof, made of stringy rope strands, was already in place. Now came the tedium that Sumac enjoyed.

Each one of the pebbles in the bag of decorative gravel was smooth and polished looking, as if it had come out of a stream. There were all kinds of colours, and Sumac tried to make sure that no two same colours were touching one another. Row after row, pebble after pebble, he worked his way up from the bottom of the birdhouse, dabbing in a drop of hot glue and then pressing a tiny stone into place. It had to be perfect.

“Look at him Pebble, see how he concentrates. Who does that remind you of?” Octavia gestured at Sumac with her foreleg.

“Vinyl,” Pebble replied as Sumac secured another stone into place. “I think he’s picking up on some of Vinyl’s habits.”

“We’re doomed,” Octavia deadpanned.

With his ears angled out over his eyes, Sumac refused to allow his concentration to be broken. Every stone had to be perfect. Vinyl had told him that perfection could only be achieved through patience, and it was a lesson he had taken to heart. Vinyl might seem as though she was impetuous and impatient, but Sumac knew his master better. That was an act. Vinyl had crafted a persona. Ponies believed her to be irresponsible, ditzy, disorganised, careless, and maybe even a bit stupid. She projected this carefully constructed image to the world as DJ Pon-3.

The Herald of Selene was no fool, no empty-headed-idiot. Vinyl didn’t have a talent for magic, not like Twilight or Starlight, but she was recognised as one of the most technically proficient wizards in all of Equestria. Like Starlight, she used her knowledge of science and engineering to make herself dangerous. She did more with less. Right now, she was creating a voice for herself, from scratch. And Sumac was proud to be her apprentice.

With a sigh of satisfaction, Sumac finished another row of pebbles.

The birdhouse sat unfinished on the floor, and Sumac rested on his cushion. His magic felt a little drained, depleted, and he needed some time to recover. He was almost finished though, and the stone cottage birdhouse looked amazing. Pebble could not stop fawning over it, and Sumac was glad that he had made her happy.

Pebble was often an unhappy foal.

With a clink, a plate of dried fruit and a few cookies was put down in front of Sumac. When he tried to reach for one, his horn sparked, fizzled, and made a soft crackling hiss. There was no denying it, his get up and go had got up and left. Vinyl sat down on his cushion with him, shoving him over a bit with her hip, and then she levitated up a cookie.

Under most circumstances, Vinyl refused to help him unless he absolutely could not help himself, because she wanted him to explore his limits, to find where the edge was. So, at times like these when she did help him, it was meaningful, important, and caused Sumac a flood of emotions.

“That’s pretty impressive,” Vinyl said in a near-perfect imitation of Octavia’s voice. “You heated the glue, applied it, levitated the birdhouse, levitated the pebbles, turned and manipulated everything, and did it for several hours.” The voice seemed to be coming out of the cushion somehow.

“Plus, it looks amazing,” Pebble added. “It looks better than I had imagined.”

Sumac opened up his mouth to say something, but a whole cookie was crammed in by Vinyl. Left with no other option, he began chewing while looking at Pebble, taking note of the little details on her face that showed she was happy. Studying her face, Sumac reached one conclusion: Pebble was cute. He blinked once and demanded that his brain explained itself.

“I miss our stone cottage on the rock farm,” Pebble said, and then she heaved a wistful sigh.

Author's Note

Next chapter: Megara's birdhouse of horror.

Chapter 11

One pebble after another, row after row of careful, thorough, meticulous effort. Such was the way to perfection. Oh, Sumac could no doubt glue on whole bunches of little pebbles at a time, but then there might be gaps, flaws, clusters of tiny pebbles that were all the same colour. This was an instance where patience would be rewarded.

“So much hinges on one good deed,” Octavia said, sounding distracted while she stared off in Tarnish’s general direction. She was quite enjoying watching him play with Megara and Boomer.

“What do you mean?” Pebble asked while Sumac affixed yet another tiny stone to the birdhouse.

“Pebble darling, every bit of happiness you have all exists because of one good deed.” Octavia turned and gave Pebble a smile, then focused her attention on the hardworking colt striving for perfection. “Once upon a time, there was a young colt that was on the verge of adulthood. He made a few mistakes, as colts tend to do. Yes… mistakes were made… anyhow, something truly awful happened to this colt, but what happened isn’t so important.”

Octavia paused, drew in a deep breath, and continued, “What is important is that a very nice mare saved this colt. She was just a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more wary to the ways of the world. When she saved him, some might say she saved herself. She found a happiness she might not have known otherwise. She took him home so he could get himself all fixed up.”

When Octavia paused for a moment, Pebble looked over at her father. The birdhouse he was working on with Megara and Boomer was finished. The filly blinked once, twice, and with her third blink, she returned her attention to Octavia, who was just about to start speaking again. Pebble sighed, a somehow happy sound, and Sumac continued his meticulous labour.

“In fertile soil, this colt bloomed and became himself, the colt he was meant to be. With some right and proper role models, this colt was turned around and he grew strong in the ways of goodness. After some adventures, quite a number of them in fact, he saved a wayward mare. Now, this by itself doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it is, you see. He saved that wayward mare, ensuring that she lived, and because of one selfless good deed, that mare was able to perform her own good deed. She rescued and took in a curious little colt.”

Sumac paused in his efforts to look up at Octavia.

“Saving that little colt wasn’t enough, and this wayward mare realised that she had to save herself. So she did, or she tried to. She made a valiant effort, and with time and effort, she did a rather remarkable good job.” Octavia smiled, reached out, and booped Pebble on the nose. “And this is how good deeds can compound good deeds. Because Maud did the right thing; because she was a good pony; you exist, Pebble, and even more so, Sumac exists. So much hinges on one good deed, and every great thing that the two of you do together, it all goes back to that moment when Maud decided to do what was right as a pony.”

“I never thought about it that way,” Pebble admitted while Sumac returned to his task.

“Because Maud did what was right, because she did what was moral, Vinyl and I know a happiness that I did not imagine possible.” Octavia’s smile vanished and she sat there, shaking her head. “The four of us have done some good deeds together, and as for Tarnish and Vinyl, the two of them together…” her words trailed off and she became quite somber.

“Mum?” Pebble’s single syllable was soft, and she sounded a bit out of place when she uttered it.

“I’m sorry, I need a moment.” Octavia swallowed and she began rubbing her front hooves together, looking fretful and in pain. “I was just thinking back to the day when Maud and I received the news that Vinyl and Tarnish had died. It was winter, like it is now, and you were very little, Pebble. You had just been born a short time before, as a matter of fact. Princess Celestia came out to the rock farm with a whole contingent of soldiers. She was grief-stricken.” Reaching up, Octavia wiped her eyes, then, lowering her foreleg, she returned to rubbing her front hooves together.

Pebble, in silence, looked at her father for a moment, then looked over at Sumac.

“You never quite realise what you have until such a time that you are without,” Octavia continued. “For a time, it appeared as though Maud and I were going to have to make a go at it alone, with only each other. It was then I knew that we had to remain together, no matter what. Again, it all goes back to that one moment of kindness, just one good deed. So much hinges on just one good deed.”

The birdhouses were all finished and standing in a row. Sumac, staring at them, could not help but think one of these things was not like the other. To his surprise, his favourite was not his own, but that of Pinkie Pie and Trixie. Pinkie Pie wanted a gingerbread house, and Trixie wanted a birdhouse that looked like a vardo, a gypsy wagon. Compromise had produced amazing results. Wooden spools had been cut in half to make wagon wheels, and the wood had been reshaped a bit to give it a more wagon-like appearance. Pinkie had painted it to look as if it was of gingerbread construction, making it very lifelike and real.

The stone cottage he had made with Pebble and Octavia seemed fine, he reckoned. For Sumac, the experience he had gained from its construction was more important than the birdhouse. He was happy with what he had accomplished, because he felt it was perfect.

Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts made their birdhouse look very much like the houses of Ponyville, and had even ‘borrowed’ the idea to turn rope strands into thatch. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cosy looking, and the two mares seemed happy with their efforts to make a home together. They had spent less time building and more time chatting with one another while drinking tea. For them, this had been a social exercise.

Maud and Vinyl’s house wasn’t so much a house as it was a tiny castle, complete with towers, fortifications, and crenelations. Wooden blocks had been added, painted, and had contributed to the overall appearance of a mighty fortress home. Sumac realised it was the natural outcome of the interests of the two mares. Vinyl was an engineer, and Maud loved stone. It was a compromise that appealed to both.

But then, there was the one that was not like the others. Megara’s birdhouse was… scary. Tarnish had shaped it to make it look more like his daughter’s head, and then it had been painted to make it look as much like Megara as possible. The opening for the birdhouse was Megara’s maw, complete with painted on teeth, and her painted on eyes were crossed so that she might watch as the birds entered. It was the birdhouse of nightmares, and Sumac felt terrible for any birds that might make that a home come spring.

Boomer seemed proud of what she had contributed.

“That was really fun, Tarnish, thank you.” Twinkleshine gave her host an appreciative nod, then glanced over at Lemon Hearts. “Thank you for making a home with me, Lemon.” With this, both mares began to titter while sharing adoring glances with one another.

“Hey, don’t mention it.” Tarnish had a tiny tree dragon perched on his horn and a mighty manticore spawn clinging to his long neck. Boomer was snoozing and Megara looked as though she might nod off at many moment. “So, what are we going to do for lunch?”

“Eat pie,” Maud deadpanned, and this caused quite a few snickers.

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” Pinkie squealed as she began bouncing in place. “I made some quiches for breakfast and I could make some pies for lunch and... oh wait, YOU DID IT TO ME AGAIN!” Turning a much darker shade of pink, Pinkie Pie turned to glare at her sister. “Welp, I feel stupid.” Ears drooping, Pinkie Pie let out a nervous, embarrassed giggle.

Sitting in a comfy chair, Trixie was blinking and one ear twitched, locked in time with her eyes opening and closing. Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine were still tittering from their own little joke, and this was even funnier. Sumac didn’t quite know what was going on, but he knew that something was funny. Octavia and Vinyl were staring at one another, Vinyl was waggling her eyebrows, and Octavia was blushing.

“I wouldn’t mind eating a little pie,” Sumac said, innocent of the hidden meaning of his words and not knowing that he was striking a match in a room overflowing with dynamite. The poor colt played right into Maud’s wicked scheme without realising it, and the reactions to his words were immediate.

Not to mention devastating, as a room full of dynamite tended to be.

With a powerful snort, Pinkie Pie jammed her hoof into her mouth and she bit down upon it while her whole body shook. Maud’s eyes widened just a bit, but the effect was so minuscule that most ponies would have trouble noticing it. Blushing, Lemon Hearts turned orange, becoming another type of citrus entirely, and she clutched at Twinkleshine while fighting back laughter, which instead came out in the form of tears. Lemon Hearts, now Orange Hearts, was leaking her precious juice from her eyes, and was clearly a citrus in need of squeezing.

“It’s the dinner incident all over again,” Maud deadpanned while her husband pitched over to the floor and Megara yowled while her father howled. “I need to be more careful with what I say. I could have been the Element of Laughter…”

Pebble, her eyes flashing, shook her head. “It’s funny because it is a double entendre, right?” She had turned a very dark shade of brown, and was getting darker by the second, much like an over roasted coffee bean. Then, Pebble broke; she let out a squeal, covered her face with her forelegs, and curled into a fetal position on the floor, all the while squealing like an overexcited tea kettle, a trait she surely had inherited from her father, a Teapot.

With one foreleg, Pinkie Pie clutched her sister while gnawing on her hoof, trying to keep her laughter contained. Tears were streaming from her eyes, and she appeared to be having some trouble breathing. Trixie had a distant look in her eyes and the corners of her mouth kept twitching, tugging upwards while her ear continued to bob up and down.

“I like eating Pebble’s pies,” Sumac said, not knowing what was so funny. “She does a lot of hard work to make her pie presentable. Her pie is always picture perfect and I always feel a little bad for ruining it and making her pie messy.” Blinking, Sumac blushed, not understanding why, and he continued, “One time, Pebble’s pie was soggy and a little gross, but I ate it anyway, because she was still getting the hang of it and I didn’t want her to feel ashamed of serving me a soggy, sloppy pie. Lemon Hearts told me to never leave a filly feeling ashamed.”

With a shuddering gasp, Pinkie lost her battle to breathe and she fell to the floor, howling with laughter, clutching her stomach with her hooves, one of them slobbery. She whooped and coughed between brays of laughter, and Maud stared down at her writhing, almost-choking sister with seeming indifference.

Without warning, Trixie exploded. “HAHAHAHAH, the Great and Powerful Trixie is experiencing awkward laughter and enjoying it far too much!” Trixie’s booming voice completely drowned out Pebble’s high pitched squeal. “Later, the Great and Powerful Trixie will regret this, but for now, HAHAHAHAHAH!”

“I’m going to have an accident!” Octavia shouted, breathless, as she clutched her sides. “Stupid pregnancy!”

Vinyl’s horn flashed—then, she and Octavia were gone, no doubt they had vanished to the bathroom. Sumac surveyed the chaos around him, blinking, shaking his head, and wondering why the adults were all so weird. With no warning, Lemon Hearts winked out of existence, and Sumac wondered if she had left to find a bathroom as well.

While her father rolled on the floor, Megara batted at his tail with her broad paw, but she kept her retractable razors to herself. Boomer, annoyed that her perch was unstable, scurried away over the floor, ran up the table leg, over the table, and dove inside the castle birdhouse so she could nap in peace.

With a cry, Pebble was up on her hooves and she ran out of the room, giggling, crying, and her tail streaming out behind her. Sumac wondered if she too, was fleeing to find a bathroom. He still wasn’t sure what was so funny, and he didn’t know what to think about how Maud was now staring at him.

“What’s so funny?” Sumac asked, and when he spoke, Maud’s nostrils flared.

Maud’s sides were rising and falling in a most peculiar way, causing her smock to rumple a bit. “One day, Sumac, when you’re older, you are going to look back on this day… and laugh.”

Author's Note

Mmm, I too, am in the mood for pie.

Chapter 12

The water cascading against the pale-green claw-footed enameled cast iron tub made a thunderous sound while it filled. The bathroom was already filling up with steam and Pebble was eager to get into the tub, where it would be warm. She was too little to get in by herself—she had to be eased in just a little bit at a time—and if she just plopped in it would hurt far too much. But a little at a time? The sting—and the anticipation of the sting—was delightful.

Sitting on the toilet, she felt the radiant heat coming from the small black wrought iron stove, and she looked over at her mother. Both of them were naked and Pebble felt just a little bit awkward about that fact. Her mother’s nakedness didn’t bother her, but her own sure did. With no dress, no clothing of any sort, her rolls of pudge were visible, her big thighs, and all of the extra padding around her middle. All of it was ugly, and she hated it. She sat with her thighs squeezed tight together, because there were parts of her that were far, far uglier than other parts, and she didn’t like the two new additions to her body that were growing in, not at all. She resented biology’s cruel tyranny.

“Mother, can I ask you an earth pony question?” Pebble looked at her mother and waited for a response.

“Well, you’re an earth pony, and you just asked me a question, so, you just did,” Maud deadpanned, “and can’t you call me something like ‘Mama,’ or ‘Mom’... would it kill you?”

“But it is a serious question.” Pebble’s cheeks and belly grow warm from embarrassment while she considered just keeping her question to herself. Listening to the sound of the wood burning inside of the small, pot-bellied stove, her ears twitched with each pop and crackle. The tub was taking a long time to fill, and at the moment, it seemed like it was taking even longer. Like a watched pot, a watched bathtub never filled.

Standing beside the tub, Maud poked her hoof into the water, held it there, and concentrated for a moment. After a few seconds, she said, “That’s about one-hundred and four to one-hundred and six degrees. Perfect.” Then, she just stood there with her hoof held in the bathwater.

“Mom, when and how did you know that Dad was the one?” Pebble asked while she tapped her two front hooves against one another. “How did your earth pony senses tell you that he was the one? My senses are always so confusing and overwhelming. They’re too strong and I have to try and shut them out.”

“I think you’re a little too young to be worried about that—”

“Just answer the question!” Pebble demanded, her impatience manifesting as a deadpan whine.

Sighing, Maud turned to look at her daughter with her usual sleepy expression. Pebble, naked, seemed all the more vulnerable at the moment and she was unable to look her mother in the eye while her front hooves kept tap-tap-tapping together. With a splash, Maud lifted her hoof out of the bath, gave it a shake, and put it down on the floor where it darkened the stone floor with wetness.

“I gave your father the silent treatment just to see what might happen. It was stupid of me, and the truth was, I was flustered and overwhelmed by him, and it was easier for me to deal with all of my own feelings by being silent and trying to sort them out. It was just a dumb thing to do. When he freaked out and started to pour his heart out to me, I just knew. He was the one. It was like a bell going off, and all of my earth pony senses alerted me to the fact that I had just found my ideal mate and breeding partner.”

“Yes, but how?” Pebble looked her mother in the eye and her tiny nostrils flared.

“Hunch. Gut instinct. Just that… feeling. When you just know and everything just feels calm and right.” Maud paused for a moment, blinked once, and when she continued speaking, there was a curious quality to her voice. “There was also this strange, persistent arousal that wouldn’t go away, and I suspected back at the time that it was magical in origin. I still feel it sometimes, when he and I are separated, and there is this strong instinct to keep him close. For him to be near me.”

Pressing her lips together, Pebble’s cheeks poofed out and she focused her attention on the wood burning stove. While she stared at it, her mother turned off the water, and when Pebble raised her head to look, she saw her mother coming to get her. On two legs, Maud lifted Pebble from the potty, held her up, hugged her a bit, and kissed her on the head, just over her eye.

“Being an earth pony is confusing,” Pebble grumbled.

On two legs, Maud approached the tub, which was now full, and she dangled Pebble over the water. Driven by instinct, Pebble’s legs began to kick, to paddle, and the grumpy little filly scowled, not much caring for her instincts at the moment. Maud lowered her daughter a bit, and Pebble hissed when her hooves hit the hot water. The contrast of the cooler air and the hot bath water was delicious, and Pebble shivered with anticipation of the dunking to come.

There would be heat, too much heat, and then the air of the bathroom would feel even colder by contrast. Her stubby, chubby legs kicked, moving on their own, as most mammals tended to do when held over the water, and her hooves splashed as they submerged. She was dunked in a little more at a time, and Pebble knew it would sting the most when her belly hit the water, well, her belly and her two most-unwelcome developments. The hot water would hurt those the most, and Pebble gritted her teeth as even more of her sank in.

At least her mother was careful and slow.

“Hot, hot, hot!” Pebble murmured, and the cautious dunking process halted for a second so she could recover. Fear manifested, as Pebble didn’t like being held up off of the ground, and panic joined anticipation, making her heart race. “Mama, I think Sumac is the one.”

“You’re a bit young for that conclusion,” Maud replied in deadpan.

“That doesn’t make it any less true,” Pebble retorted as her mother continued to ease her in just a little at a time.

Maud’s voice still had a curious quality to it. “I never said it wasn’t true, just that you were a bit young to have reached that conclusion. Look, I respect you, your instincts, and your hunches as an earth pony. But as your mother, I am going to have moments where I balk at certain things. We can always talk about it though, never forget that. Just remember, I’m your mom and I have certain feelings of my own because of my love for you as my daughter.”

With a plop and a splash, Pebble was dropped into the tub, which was deep enough for her to bob up and down in. Her mane and tail flowed all around her, trying to float in the water, and she looked up at her mother with bright, curious eyes. Loving eyes. The little filly watched as her mother threw one leg over the edge of the tub and began the slow, cautious process of getting in. There was a splash and ripples formed when Maud’s hind leg broke the surface of the water, and the earth pony mare let out a cautious hiss from between gritted teeth.

Bathtimes were the best times, because anything could be talked about.

After the excitement of the morning, the house was now quiet. Some had gone, off to visit Adventus to bring him a bit of much-needed holiday cheer. Others were having a bit of a nap. Still others were having a bath. Tarnished Teapot was having a spot of tea, and he was not alone. Sitting with his chin resting on the edge of the table to support his head, Sumac Apple watched everything around him with keen interest.

A roaring fire blazed in the kitchen’s hearth, filling the kitchen with heat and light, driving away the dull winter’s shadows. Vinyl Scratch moved around the kitchen at an elderly pace, preparing cucumbers so she could make bread and butter chips. With lean times ahead, the almost paper thin cucumber slices would be pickled and then served between buttered slices of bread. The smell of Vinyl’s endeavours was amazing to behold; the scent of brine, of cucumbers, onions, of garlic, and the twang of spicy, fruity peppers.

For Tarnish, he was having an Igneous moment, which is to say that there was a colt present he wished he could call his son. Having Sumac around helped Tarnish to understand his own father-in-law a little better, as Igneous was not the easiest pony to figure out. While Tarnish loved his girls, he wanted a son and hoped that at least one colt was coming.

Had Tarnish been paying a bit more attention, he might have noticed Sumac’s ears pivoting around and the colt drawing in a deep breath, but he failed to notice. As such, he was completely off guard when the curious little unicorn asked his question.

“Crown Agent Cocoa killed a god,” Sumac began. “What happened in Skyreach?”

Almost dropping his tea, Tarnish began trembling and the panic came on so strong and so sudden that it almost overwhelmed him. A thousand nightmarish images rushed into his mind, each one more terrible than the last, and a faint, almost imperceptible whimper escaped from Tarnish’s lips

“Where is Vinyl in these stories?” Sumac kept going, unaware of Tarnish’s growing panic.

“Crown Agent Cocoa is an amalgam of Tarnish and I,” Vinyl said in Octavia’s voice, which seemed to come from somewhere above, from the ceiling, or maybe the light fixture. It was obvious that she still needed a great deal of practice with this new spell.

Fighting to control his telekinesis, Tarnish put his teacup down on the table, took a deep breath, and thought of happier thoughts. With a quick turn of his head, he looked at Vinyl, and saw that she appeared to be okay, but she was good at hiding things, better than he was, anyhow. Hesitant, he licked his teeth with his tongue, and took another deep breath for good measure.

“Sumac, Miss Yearling… she takes a bit of poetic license with those books.” He felt his calm returning and Tarnish could see Sumac’s vivid green eyes behind the colt’s darkened tea shades. For a moment, Sumac looked so much like his father, Flam, that it left Tarnish feeling disturbed. He had first met Flam in Dodge City Junction…

“But you did kill a god, right?” Sumac waited, looking both curious and anxious.

“I… we… well, you see… Sumac,” Tarnish stammered, unable to form a sentence. Another deep breath was taken, and Tarnish blurted out, “What happened there was complicated. Miss Yearling had to write everything out as a way of healing. Some bad things happened. A lot of bad things.”

“Is it true that Princess Celestia destroyed it?” Sumac asked. “Skyreach, I mean.”

Upon hearing these words, Tarnish felt the tightness in his barrel ease off a bit, and the next deep breath he drew was a little easier. “Yeah, Sumac, that’s true.”

“How?” Sumac’s voice was one of astonished disbelief. “That’s an entire mountain range and valleys.”

Tarnish felt his ears droop, and he listened to the sounds of Vinyl shuffling around the kitchen. His hoof began tapping against the table, but he was unaware of his own actions. The teacup trembled when he lifted it, and he dribbled a bit of tea when he slurped some out. Licking his lips, he cleaned away the tea, and then looked down at the table where several drops of creamy brown liquid had fallen.

“Princess Celestia was angry. She thought she had lost her friends and she was grief stricken. There was a whole lot of emotion there… maybe too much emotion… anyhow, she flew east, on her own, leaving her sister Princess Luna in charge of Equestria. I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t there, but Equestria had almost forty-eight hours of darkness. She told me that she turned the fury of the sun upon that place, and she refused to talk about it any further.”

“Daring Do said that the sun set on Skyreach,” Sumac said.

“Maybe it did, Sumac… maybe it did.” Tarnish felt his panic easing away, and he managed to smile. Eager to change the subject, Tarnish slurped more tea, then said, “Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I got shot in the behind?” While he spoke, he heard Sumac suck in a deep breath. The sound of the colt breathing was precious to Tarnish, for reasons he did not understand. “I still have the gun that did it, you know. It’s on display. I came home and I asked Maud to kiss my booboo and make it feel better. She asked me where I got hurt and I turned around. She bit me. I deserved it. And that’s how marriage works, Sumac.”

“That’s so awesome.” Sumac breathed these words while his ears rose and fell.

“Yeah, having a mare love you enough to bite you on your bum is pretty awesome…”

Author's Note

Send a boat, it's flooding outside.

Chapter 13

Young Sumac was having the time of his life. Tarnish had talked about Skyreach—just a little—had given him marriage advice about being bit on the bum, and was now teaching him the art of rugged masculinity. Well, sort of. Pebble, Megara, and Boomer were all part of this lesson as well. Vinyl was still moving about the kitchen, only now, she was making jars of strawberry syrup with strawberries grown in the greenhouse.

To say that Pebble had a competitive streak a mile wide was an understatement. While she might spend much of her time looking bored and out of sorts, once you engaged her in something, she underwent a fierce transformation, like now, during the lessons for rugged masculinity.

Various bottles of Princess~Colas sat upon the table, some open, some not, some empty, some full. Pebble was holding a Twilight~Cola in her fetlock, which left the scent of lavender and cucumber strong in the air. Sumac knew firsthoof that Twilight was enamoured with her own soda flavour, not to mention that the flavour of lavender and cucumber together might be her most favouritist thing ever.

With no warning whatsoever, Pebble belched, shattering the silence of the kitchen with volcanic force. Sumac was impressed, it was a pretty good burp considering that it came from a girl, but he knew that he could do better. After all, Pebble was only a filly and he was a colt. Being gross and disgusting was like breathing for him, as it was for all little colts.

“Pebble, I don’t think you were trying very hard,” Tarnish said to his daughter, and his words got him a narrow-eyed stare of pure contempt. “Don’t look at me like that! I’ve heard you when you try and so I know the difference. Now stop being a disappointment.”

Ears now flat against her head, Pebble, who was fresh out of the tub, began taking careful little sips of her Twilight~Cola, almost as if she was taking it down bubble by bubble, hoarding the effervescent fizziness for her future explosive vulgarity. Sumac knew Pebble, he knew her current look from having her nose tweaked. Seeing her like this made him feel a tiny bit of fear—yes, Pebble was scary.

Megara had some trouble drinking from bottles due to her underbite and she sort of had to pour her drink into her mouth. It was funny to watch, and Megara being as good natured as she was, didn’t mind when others laughed when she tipped back her head to drink. So far, Megara hadn’t belched, but Sumac was hopeful. In the kitchen, the busy kitchen, the lioness lurked with gas.

Sitting on the edge of the table, Boomer sat eating a metal bottlecap, munching with draconic glee. Sumac thought she was kind of cute when she was like this, as ‘cute’ wasn’t exclusive to ponies, but one had to look a little harder to find cuteness in things that weren't fuzzy equines. No mistaking it though, Boomer was cute. She was also a major source of confusion in Sumac’s life, as he couldn’t quite define the nature of the relationship between them.

It gave him a glimmer of understanding into Twilight’s relationship with Spike.

Offering no warning, Sumac broadsided the others at the table with what he knew would be an epic belch. It started small, almost weak, but grew in resonance and volume. Pebble clung to her bottle, her eyes now wide. Megara’s lower jaw fell open and her ears perked. Boomer stopped eating, mid-munch, her face now an expression of reptilian awe.

“Sheesh, that’s disgusting!” Tarnish’s head began to bob up and down in approval, and he added, “Look at him go… it just doesn’t stop! Keep going, Sumac!”

Eager, Sumac leaned into it and let everything go. Yes, he let it go, he let it go, and he held nothing back. There was no guilt, no shame, and most importantly, no Lemon with her disconcerting, distracting eyerolls. Boomer’s eyes were wide now and when she inhaled in awe, she made a faint wheezing sound. Vinyl stopped chopping up strawberries, pulled off her dark glasses, and stared at her apprentice, as if she was grading him.

“I feel gross and inadequate,” Pebble deadpanned, and she slumped down in her chair.

Sumac was feeling light-headed now, but he showed no signs of stopping. He had on his best ‘horse-face’ with silly, crossed eyes and his lips stretched out in odd ways. His nostrils were burning something awful, which made his green eyes water, but he pushed past the pain while he ascended into the crescendo. The little colt had secret hopes and dreams that Princess Celestia would notice him during one of these moments, she would notice him, praise him, lift him on high, and turn him into an alicorn in recognition for his unparalleled, unequaled excellence… no, no, she would raise him as a BRAPicorn. Yes, he would be the first.

His eyes were watering when he heard the backdoor opening, and then he heard a familiar, familial voice say, “What in the aetherfire blazes is that?”

Twinkleshine stepped into the kitchen from the mudroom, still covered in snow, just as Sumac’s crescendo reached a fever pitch. She stared, her eyes first wide, then narrowed. Almost out of air, almost out of gas, Sumac pushed hard for a big finish, no longer caring about life or death at the hooves of Twinkleshine. He was in the zone.

Pebble’s straight, fresh-washed mane blew back in the vulgar breeze and she murmured, “I need another bath.”

And then, it ended, as all things must end, leaving Sumac gasping and empty.

“I am sorely disappointed,” Twinkleshine said while she shook her head in disapproval.

“This is what you get when you leave me in charge of looking after the little ones.” Tarnish kept his head held high, but his ears were pinned back in submission. “Look, I’m a stallion, and I offer no excuses. This is what I do in my own kitchen.”

“What are you teaching my colt?” Twinkleshine demanded with all of the brassy boldness she could muster.

“But I—”

“Oh, hush!” Twinkleshine demanded while she raised one hoof and gave Tarnish a dismissive wave, causing him to go silent while Vinyl began to wheeze with laughter.

Sumac watched as the pearlescent mare strode forwards, confident, and lifted up a bottle of Celestia~Cola from the table. With a bit of magic, she popped the cap off. “Take note, Sumac, Celestia~Cola is the gassiest of the colas, with almost twice as much carbonation as the others.” Saying nothing else, she tipped back her head and began to glug down the bottle with terrifying, reckless gulps, allowing it to pour down her throat. It foamed a great deal, and she sucked that down too.

Boomer swallowed the remains of her bottle cap, hissed, and then lept from the table over to the counter, where she then ran up Vinyl’s neck to perch on the albino unicorn’s horn. Megara was still trying to recover from what Sumac had done, and seemed flummoxed by what Twinkleshine was doing.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” Pebble whispered.

“So am I, baby, so am I,” he replied.

Vinyl ducked down below the counter for a moment, and when her head popped up once more, she was wearing a big metal mixing bowl like a helmet. There was no sign of Boomer, who was presumably under the bowl, clinging to Vinyl’s horn. A heavy steel pot lid was lifted and held up in front of the cautious mare’s face like a shield.

Twinkleshine was swishing a little cola between her teeth and her cheeks were bulged. She bounced around on her hooves, causing some snowflakes to fall to the floor, and her pastel pink mane bobbed. Sumac was consumed with anticipation and terror, which he hoped would last. Tarnish, perhaps sensing his final moments, grabbed up Pebble to hold her, and the little filly clung to her father’s neck while her nostrils flared in terror.

Sumac let out a startled cry when Megara pulled him out of his chair and into her embrace. She was strong, scary strong, and she held up his limp body with ease. Once she had him close, she wrapped her leathery, creaky wings around him, and Sumac found himself in what could only be described as a hairy, scary cocoon of safety.

A peculiar sensation gripped Sumac when Twinkleshine opened up a second bottle of Celestia~Cola, which hissed when the cap was pried off. What was she doing? What would she do? Who would survive and what might be left of them? The anticipation had gone too far, and Sumac needed an end, however terrible it might be. He needed resolution, a conclusion, even if it left a smoking, glowing crater on this side of the planet that was visible from space. Twinkleshine downed the bottle in what seemed like one gulp. The first bottle had formed a well, and the second had primed the proverbial pump.

And then, without warning, it happened.

It wasn’t so much a sound as it was a force, and the sensation of that force was just as powerful inside of his head as it was outside. Sumac could feel all of his teeth vibrating, and the weird whirring sensation of his teeth made his eyeballs water while they too, vibrated. He had gone deaf, or maybe he hadn’t, the force was all he knew. He had become one with the force, it seemed, and all of the localised universe around him now resonated at the frequency of whatever it was that was coming out of Twinkleshine’s mouth.

His vision went out of focus and now there were six Twinkleshines—each was a prismatic colour of the rainbow—and all of them were emitting the eldritch sound that was the death cry of the universe. The volume sextupled, reaching an unbearable pitch, and Sumac knew that he was bearing witness to the end of all things. This was how it ended, not with a bang, not with a whimper, but… a… Bʀᴀᴘ.

Perhaps it was a peculiarity of pitch modulation, but the world became a kaleidoscope, a jumbled, distorted kaleidoscope, and the various Twinkleshines all continued with their eldritch abyssal death chants. Sumac became aware of a ringing sound, and it took the colt several long, confused seconds to determine that every metal object in the kitchen was singing out like a tuning fork.

Twinkleshine’s abyssal death magics were so terrible that inanimate objects had joined her chorus of the damned, and together, they sung a song to end the universe. The heavy wooden kitchen table was skittering over the stone floor, and the various things atop the table all threatened to fall over while they bounced.

“There are no gods,” Pebble deadpanned in a meek voice that could scarce be heard over the roaring fury, “only monsters.”

The seconds stretched into micro-eternities and time lost all meaning. There was only the fury of the force, an indescribable new form of physics that transcended sound. This was something that would no doubt echo through the freezing, empty vacuum of space, bringing with it terror, anguish, and the cold knowledge of The End.

And then, it was over with the same suddenness as it had began. Sumac couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead, or if he had perhaps transcended to some new plane of existence. The world had become a scary, unknown place, this was a new world, a strange one, one ruled by Twinkleshine, Goddess of Abyssal Grogarian Death Chants.

From whence had such world-ending fury cometh?

Twinkleshine licked her lips, grinned, and shot Tarnish a teasing look. Giggling, reveling in her own glory, she sat down in the chair where Sumac had sat before Megara had pulled him into the safety of her embrace. She plucked Sumac from Megara’s grip and eased him into her own, looking down into his eyes with a loving, maternal smile.

“There were contests in Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns,” she said to Sumac in a soothing, comforting voice that drove away the terror. “Princess Celestia taught me how to do that after my raw skill caught her eye. She can belch the entire dragon alphabet, you know.”

Stunned, Sumac did not reply, but lay there, looking up at Twinkleshine’s face.

“I’m going to teach you my secrets,” Twinkleshine promised, “and one day, when you are ready, you are going to stand in the apple orchards, and you will sing, and Big Mac will know that I didn’t raise a sissy.” With her foreleg, she brushed Sumac’s mane from his face and smoothed it out while also stroking his ears. She laughed, a mischievous sound, and glanced over at Tarnish.

“If this is what you do in your own kitchen, you really need to step up your game, Mister Teapot…”

Author's Note

I had fun writing this. I hope you have fun reading it. :rainbowlaugh:

Chapter 14

Trixie was back and Sumac was oh so very glad to see her. So much so that he did nothing to resist being held. He didn’t mind, not really, and his brief moments of resistance were more for show. There was a pleasing rustling sound as their pelts rubbed together, accompanied by a ticklish electric crackle. His mother smelled of ozone, of magic, and his magic sense detected that his mother had done some recent casting of the great and powerful variety.

He didn’t ask, and he didn’t care.

A cool room was better for snuggling, as Sumac didn’t mind being warm. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the moment, and with his ear pressed up against his mother’s throat, he could hear the sound of her heart beating, a most reassuring sound indeed. The warmth and the fuzziness of the embrace almost-sort-of-kind-of made him sleepy.

“How’s Adventus?” Sumac asked while he fought to keep from yawning.

“Oh, he’s much better now that Lemon Hearts checked up on him.” While Trixie replied, she caressed the back of Sumac’s neck with her fetlock. “It’s funny how she is, right? That might be the hardest part of being in love with Lemon, is having to share her with other ponies.”

Opening one eye, Sumac caught a glimpse of Lemon Hearts, who was sitting with Megara and Pebble. No doubt, she had heard. It made him happy to know that things were progressing and that, soon, they would be a family, a real one, all bound together with documents and ink. He thought about being a tease, but the moment was too pleasant to ruin it.

“You love Lemon?” he asked in a muffled voice.

“Yeah, I can’t deny that.” Trixie was silent for a moment and Sumac did not see her looking over at Lemon, nor did he see Lemon’s smug look of satisfaction. “I love her a great deal, Sumac. Just about as much as I love you.”

The sound of Tarnish’s gentle baritone could be heard for a moment, but Sumac wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. He heard Megara make a mewling sound, and then there was the sound of Octavia laughing. Almost more content than he could bear, he rubbed his cheek against his mother and delighted in the staticky warmth of being close to the most important pony in his life.

“Mom?”

“Yeah, Kiddo?”

“What’s a sissy?” Sumac felt a strange silence accompany his question. Yes, he felt it. Some silences you heard, as strange as that might be, and other silences you felt. This one was a feeler, and in the back of his mind, the colt wondered if, perhaps, he had made a mistake. His mother tensed, and he could feel her muscles tighten while she held him.

“Well, Kiddo… what do you think a sissy is?” Trixie asked.

More silence. Sumac’s ear flickered, trying to pick up on some sort of sound, but there was nothing. Even more, Sumac wondered if he had done something wrong, perhaps saying the word, ‘sissy.’ He tried not to worry about it too much, and instead, he focused on coming up with an answer, a good one. It didn’t take his brain long to come up with something, and he dredged up a memory from school.

“In school, I heard one colt tell another colt that he was a sissy mama’s colt.”

There was a sound, a sound that was brave enough to emerge from the suffocating silence, and Sumac had no doubts that it was Lemon Hearts, because she had a most pronounced frustrated huff that could not be mistaken. Sumac had been the subject of quite a number of these huffs, and he knew them well.

“Yes, I suppose that is one definition of a sissy.” It was Lemon Hearts who was speaking, and her voice had a hardness to it that almost scared Sumac. “It’s a bit of social conditioning that makes little colts ashamed of being close to their mothers, and that hurts them… in fact, it hurts all of us. Little colts that grow up being distant from their mothers tend to become stallions that are distant from their wives.”

“Okay, Lemon, let’s not have ourselves a good and proper freak out—”

“Look, Octavia, I’m just stating a simple and obvious truth.”

“I know you are, Lemon, but let’s not be upset about it.”

“Alright, fine.” Again, there was another of Lemon Hearts’ distinctive huffs, this time as punctuation.

Sumac waited and when the silence returned, he asked another question. “What do you think being a sissy means to Big Mac?” Even as he was speaking, he felt Trixie inhale, she sucked in a deep breath and gave him a squeeze. He felt weird questioning Big Mac’s motives, almost as if he shouldn’t be questioning the adults in his life and why they did what they did, but it bothered him and he had to know.

“Sometimes, Sumac, I forget just how smart you are, and then you go and give me a good reminder.” Trixie took a another deep breath, smacked her lips once, and then pressed her muzzle down against one of Sumac’s ears. “Sumac Apple, I am going to say something and it is going to be quite blunt. I’m going to trust that you are smart enough to take this the right way, okay?”

“Okay.” Sumac felt his ear fidget when Trixie’s lips brushed up against it.

Sitting in silence, Trixie didn’t answer, but remained silent while cuddling the colt in her embrace. The faint sounds of murmuring could be heard from the others, but Sumac wasn’t paying much attention, nor did he make much effort to understand what was being said. The faint prickle of tiny claws alerted him to the fact that Boomer was climbing him like a tree, and then she scurried up Trixie to perch atop her horn.

“You know, I think Lemon’s talent relates to the matters of the heart,” Maud said in a voice just loud enough to be heard with clarity. “All evidence seems to point at her keeping ponies together while maintaining healthy relationships. Wouldn’t you agree, Octavia?”

“Indubitably.”

“Octavia, must you be so posh?” Maud asked.

“Why… yes…” was Octavia’s dry, witty reply. “She’s like a gardener, but with ponies, carefully cultivating the growth of relationships all around her. It’s like she’s keen on building up families, or friendships, or something.”

“Or something indeed.” Maud didn’t quite sound posh, but she did sound rather dry.

Even though Sumac didn’t see it, Pebble gazed at her mother with wide, adoring eyes, no doubt taking everything in, as Pebble wanted so very much to emulate her mother, to be her mother. Meanwhile, Megara was making a few half-hearted swipes at her father’s tail, hoping it would move, so she would have something to play with.

“Big Mac is a very simple, very good pony,” Trixie began, and everypony went silent. “Now, I’ve heard a lot of talk about who he is and what he is, and some ponies say that Mac is a little backward. I don’t agree with that… no, Trixie does not abide by that.”

Sumac waited while his mother cleared her throat.

“A bigot is somepony that forces their views on other ponies,” Trixie said, and her emotion gave her voice a noticeable strain. “Big Mac is old fashioned, of that there can be no doubt. But he doesn’t go out of his way to force his views on others. He stays in his orchard, working hard, minding his own business, and he keeps to himself. He has good values, even if they are from yesteryear, and Sumac, more than anything, I want you to learn all of the good things that Big Mac has to teach you.”

“If there are good things, then there must be bad things too.” Sumac, with his eyes closed, inhaled to fill his lungs, stretching them until they almost stung, and then he let everything out in a slow huff. Things were complicated.

“Kiddo, when Big Mac made a whole new wagon just to keep his word, that is what I want you to learn from him.” Trixie paused, then added, “And to be honest, I don’t think picking up a little bit on his old fashioned values would hurt you. For Big Mac, I think I know what he thinks a sissy is… a shirker. Somepony who runs away from hard work. Somepony who doesn’t keep their word. Somepony who can’t pony up to do the right thing when times get rough.”

“Yeah, that fits in with what I know of Big Mac,” Tarnish said, picking up where Trixie left off. “Mac thought I was a bit of a sissy, but that’s since changed. I grew up, got responsible, and did the right thing, even when the right thing was hard, and he’s respected me ever since, even if we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Big Mac is reasonable.” Maud’s deadpan filled the room and she spoke with a bit more volume than usual. “Now, being reasonable, that’s being able to entertain an idea even if you don’t agree with it. There’s a lot that Mac doesn’t agree with, but he will listen.”

Sumac it seemed, was getting an earful.

“Maud, if you don’t mind me asking, what brought that up?” Octavia asked.

“We were talking one day,” Maud replied, “and the subject of Applejack’s ex-husband came up. As it turns out, Mac doesn’t agree with everything his sister does, but he has no intentions of making her change. He respects her, he respects her opinions, and he remains right behind her for support. You know, Big Mac could have made a life for himself, he could have done any number of things, but he stayed at home to help raise Ambrosia and Hidden Rose Apple. He stayed to support his family… and didn’t walk away like a sissy.”

Lemon Hearts scooped up Megara, who yowled, trying to clutch at her father’s tail while she was being tugged away from it. “So, we’re back to defining what a sissy is, I see.” While speaking, she gave Megara a cuddle, and the still yowling manticore spawn squirmed in Lemon’s affectionate embrace.

“For a long time, I was a sissy,” Trixie admitted, and the room went silent once more. “I ran away from everything. I ran away from all of my responsibilities, and I refused to believe that anything was my fault. I was afraid of how much it would hurt to make things right, to make right what I did, and all of the hard work that goes along with that. It was easier to pull a busted up wagon all over Equestria and try to pass myself off as something I wasn’t.” Clutching Sumac, she added, “And I hope my son doesn’t grow up to be a sissy.”

“Sounds more like cowardice,” Tarnish remarked, with the sort of bluntness that he was known for.

“What’s the difference?” Vinyl asked, speaking in Octavia’s voice. “I’m a big sissy when it comes to pain. I just can’t deal with it. Everypony has a weakness, and that is mine. I am absolutely scared of needles and things that can hurt me.”

“Vinyl, you’re one of the bravest ponies I know.” Tarnish’s voice was low, rough, and a bit raspy. “The things we’ve done together… the places we’ve been… the things that have happened. Like… when the Endeavour crashed… you seemed so fearless… or how you’ll walk into situations that even I’m hesitant to face.”

“That’s just me being cocky.”

“Cocky?” Tarnish sounded doubtful.

“The only reason why I am so damn cocky is that I know that you’re right behind me… otherwise, I’d be running away like the little sissy that I am,” Vinyl replied, still using Octavia’s voice, which made things more than a little weird.

It was all too much to take in, to understand, to comprehend, and Sumac was almost buried beneath the weight of it. Growing up was complicated, there was so much to do, to understand, and as Sumac feared, so much that could go wrong. For Sumac, the word sissy represented growing up wrong, and he resolved to do right. However, he wasn’t so sure of what right was, as just like with the word sissy, everypony had a different meaning that they assigned to it. He was certain that if he asked Big Mac which meaning was right, he would get a much different answer than if he was to ask Lemon the very same question.

He was certain of one thing though: both Big Mac and Lemon Hearts would steer him in the correct direction when offering their meanings of what right was, he knew that. Sumac, by sheer luck, destiny, happenstance, or good fortune, had found himself in the company of good ponies, ponies who did right and stuck by it, even if they might all have different meanings of what right was.

The painful memory of almost crushing his father’s head with a tombstone made him jerk in his mother’s embrace, and Sumac realised that even if doing right was difficult to define, he knew what doing wrong was. Pebble had spared him from doing wrong, and he was thankful for that. Sumac had something of an understanding that, when one went down the path of wrongness, it was difficult to return to the path of right. He thought of Starlight Glimmer and her own struggle to return to what was right.

For Sumac, the future, his future, seemed promising, and right.

Author's Note

And here we begin to see the foundations of Sumac's strong convictions. It takes a village... with so many viewpoints, opinions, and ideas of what something is, what something represents, Sumac had no choice but to keep an open mind about stuff. It will have a profound effect upon his life.

Chapter 16

Breakfast was müesli, which Sumac didn’t mind, and was even excited about eating. It was the breakfast of adventurers, and this batch was a specially formulated blend of everything an adventurer needed to get them through a busy day. The package had an actual endorsement from Daring Do and Tarnished Teapot, world famous adventurers. Grains mixed with dried, dehydrated fruits, crunchy nuts, and little seeds that had to be popped between the teeth. Instead of just adding some hot water, as one might do out in the field, this morning’s breakfast had been prepared with yogurt.

“Tarnish, if you don’t mind me asking… how does one get sponsorships and endorsement?” Lemon Hearts asked in between bites of her breakfast.

It was Maud who answered. “Ponies are visual creatures, as evidenced by our huge eyes, and further evidenced by our cutie marks. We see things and make associations, like a company logo side by side with a well known cutie mark. Now, Tarnish here, his cutie mark scares ponies, so it was Miss Yearling’s mark that ended up being used for the sponsorship, but plenty of ponies know Tarnish by name alone—”

“Yes, and a great many sphincters clench when it is spoken—”

“Vinyl!” Octavia’s protest came out as a shrill whine. “Don’t say such things in my voice! It’s dreadful!” Letting out a huff, she vented her frustrations on poor Megara, and she began to clean the little manticore spawn’s face, ignoring her yowling cries. “Hold still! Don’t you hook me! Be good! Stop squirming! How does your adorable little face get so dirty?”

Sumac was glad it wasn’t him and he cringed a bit when Octavia even tried to clean Megara’s tusks. He understood recognition, having lived with Trixie; his mother had worn out her welcome in a great many places. The graveyards had always welcomed them though, and had been their place of safety, an often fenced-in secure place on the edge of town.

“Hold still or else…”

“Else what?” Megara asked, because Octavia had trailed off mid-sentence.

“Or else I’ll brush you all over and somehow tame that mess of mane you have!”

Sulking, Megara went still, and Tarnish began to snicker. Octavia had that effect on ponies.

Octavia was about to say something else, when a chiming sound could be heard, and it rang through the house like invisible bells. The effect was immediate and sudden; Tarnish rose from his seat, looking concerned, and Sumac could see his mother’s horn glowing. There was a new tension present now that hadn’t been here just a second ago.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Tarnish said, trying to be reassuring no doubt. “Just some unknown visitor approaching the house. I’d better go out and check on them before the plants get all antsy.”

While he departed, heading out of the kitchen, he gave Trixie a reassuring nuzzle on the neck as he went past, and Sumac watched his mother react. Much to his surprise, she calmed a bit, but her horn still glowed, and she no longer looked sleepy in the slightest. Of course, the chiming alarm was just the sort of thing that would put a pony on edge.

When Tarnish returned, he was carrying an ivory paper envelope, which was torn open along the top edge, and he was pulling out whatever was inside. Sumac, curious, was dying to know what was going on, the tension had built to such a point that he was in desperate need of release. His head bobbed, but he continued to somehow hold it up, even though it took considerable effort on his part.

Pebble’s expression was something, but Sumac could not read what it was. One of Maud’s ears twitched, a bare minimum of movement. Octavia was half-hugging Megara now, and Megara was gobbling down the remains of her breakfast, destroying all of Octavia’s hard work. Twinkleshine put down her spoon and picked up her mug of hot apple cider. Sumac could see that Vinyl was trembling; he also saw both fear and worry as well.

“It’s from my boss,” Tarnish said to everypony. “It’s a telegram—”

“Is something wrong?” Maud asked, getting right to the point.

“No, things have gone right!” The telegram shook in Tarnish’s telekinesis.

“Well, out with it!” Octavia demanded, and she let out an impatient, annoyed huff.

“The Lunar Library has been found,” Tarnish said, his voice rising in pitch from excitement. “Luna’s old library and archive… this is the find of our age… this is—”

“Where?” Maud leaned forwards and her eyes narrowed. In a single second, Maud was more expressive than anypony gathered around the table had ever seen. “Where, Tarnish?”

“Right where you said it would be,” Tarnish replied. “Daring mentioned that. You were right, the stone foundation of the city acted like a sled when the city fell into the sea. You were right!”

“Trixie is very, very confused.”

“Horseshoe Bay is a crater.” Tarnish began his explanation and he pulled the telegram away from his face. “Where Baltimare now is, there used to be an alicorn city. A major battle was fought there a long time ago. A meteor was called down from the heavens, and it struck the outer edge of the city, and it formed the Horseshoe Bay crater. The city toppled and slid into the sea.”

Lemon, hearing this, sat blinking. “Oh my gosh…”

“So, who called down the meteor?” Pebble asked.

“Princess Celestia.” Tarnish’s voice lost most of its volume, and he appeared crestfallen.

“Why would she do that?” Pebble had no visible response, no expression of feeling.

“The city was under siege,” Tarnish replied, and he bowed his head. “The draconequus armies had invaded and their magic made the alicorns of the city go mad. She and Luna resisted through sheer force of will, and Luna used her magic to shield the minds of a precious few ponies that had been rescued. When they had fled to a safe distance, Celestia called down a massive asteroid from the heavens, and dropped it on the city.”

The room went silent, save for the dripping of water in the sink and the tick-tocking of the clock on the mantle. Heads were bowed, and Sumac’s ears drooped. The act was inconceivable, impossible to comprehend. His appetite fled, like butterflies taken by gale-force winds.

“There weren’t many survivors, and the sisters, they hadn’t saved nearly enough ponies. With numbers far too few, they fled, going westward, heading towards the Two Sisters mountains.”

Sumac heard a gasp from his mother, a pained sound, and he worried for her.

“Don’t worry, this story has a happy ending,” Tarnish said, trying to lighten the mood. “We survived and everything was okay.” He smiled—a half-hearted effort—and then added, “I don’t think we’ll be studying the old castle out in the Everfree this spring. My first underwater excavation… this is going to be great.”

“How do you know this?” Pebble was just full of questions this morning.

“Celestia told me.” Tarnish sucked in a deep breath, held it for several long seconds, and then let it whistle out from flared nostrils. “We’re still going to have a good day, okay? I have stuff planned. Everything will be fine and good. Finish your breakfasts and everything will be fine, I hope.”

Sumac wasn’t sure if he was hungry.

And so it was that the resilience of youth made Sumac forget the troubling conversation that occurred during breakfast. With a full stomach, now was the time to study magic, and he had a surplus of teachers. Twilight was humming to herself while she rummaged around in her satchel, and the little colt could hear Spike and Boomer talking to one another.

Vinyl Scratch and Moondancer sat together, sipping tea, and waiting for the lesson to start. Lemon Hearts was deep in some heartfelt conversation with Olive, and the living room was crowded with unicorns. Not just any unicorns, either. Even with no real magic being done, Sumac’s magic sense was almost overwhelming him. The power in this room alone was staggering in scope and scale.

Whatever fun Tarnish had planned, it would have to wait, as Twilight had demanded at least two hours of instruction time. With her, she had brought a troupe of students, foals that Sumac didn’t exactly know. Some were older, some were younger, and all of them were students that Twilight considered ‘promising.’

“Are we gonna learn how to blow stuff up?” a filly asked, and she sounded hopeful.

“No, Gentle Melody,” Twilight replied.

The filly in question stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry.

“Today, we’re going to begin our advanced instruction in shields, as all of you have shown incredible promise with that skill.” Twilight pulled out a stack of bound instruction booklets and held them up over her head. “The information printed in this booklet was written by my brother, Shining Armor, and has been annotated by me. Each of you will be privy to information—”

“My mom used the privy this morning.” At this, there were many giggles.

“—that is out of reach for the common unicorn.” Twilight looked somewhat annoyed, and her sudden scowl silenced the giggles for the most part, but not from Twinkleshine, who continued with defiant snortles. “Miss Twinkleshine, I’ll need to see you after class.”

“Oh noes!” Covering her mouth with her hoof, Twinkleshine feigned disappointment and dismay.

“All these years, Twinkleshine, all these many years, and you haven’t changed.” Twilight sighed these words while her wings fluttered against her sides.

“I know.” Twinkleshine’s eyes glittered with unrepentant glee and many of the students were now snickering. “Hey, remember when Lemon Hearts got that beaker stuck on her head?”

“Okay, class… pay attention. I want all of you to pair up with a responsible adult that you can trust and we’re going to get started.” She turned a withering stare upon Twinkleshine. “You… you get to pass these out. Get to work, slacker.”

Unable to help himself, Sumac burst out laughing.

Staring out the window, Pebble Pie watched the snowflakes fall while heaving a sigh. Sumac was busy doing unicorn stuff, leaving her stuck doing nothing. The back yard would be an impressive garden someday, but it was nothing but snow and emptiness right now. The little statues along the back wall were all broken, crumbling, and in need of replacement.

It was a dull, grey day, the sky was as grey as her mother’s or Octavia’s pelts. It was overcast, and with nothing to do, the sunless sky seemed to amplify the dreariness that hung over Pebble like a shroud. She wondered what her father had planned, and she hoped that whatever it was, it would dispel the doldrums that had set in.

“So, Pebble,” Tarnish said as he sat down beside her. “How does it feel to have a sister?”

“I’m happy enough, I guess.” Pebble continued to stare out the window, but was glad to have her father with her. She scooted over a bit and leaned up against him, happy to have him all to herself. “I like Meg. I hope she likes me.”

“I think she adores you,” Tarnish replied, and his voice was reassuring. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she follows you around, trying to be just like you.”

“I’ve noticed.” She had, in fact, noticed, and it changed how she did things, making her more self-conscious about everything she did. “Now I have to be a good filly, or I will lead my sister astray.” When her father laughed, Pebble relaxed a bit, knowing that her father only laughed a certain way when he was sincere about something, and this laugh was reassuring.

Lifting a foreleg, she wrapped it around her father’s, and she pressed her cheek up against him. She didn’t even come up to his elbow, and while sometimes this made her feel so small and insignificant, right now, at this moment, it made her feel safe, secure, and protected. Her father was big. Not big with muscles, no—her mother had bigger, broader legs than her father, and her neck was thicker too—but her father was tall. He had a distinct advantage of height that allowed him to see danger on the distant horizon.

“Sumac isn’t safe, is he?” Pebble asked.

“He’s safe enough,” Tarnish replied.

“Don’t lie to me. Lying is wrong and if you do that, I’ll stop trusting you. I’d rather have the truth even if it hurts.” Outside the window, the snowfall slowed a bit, and what was coming down now was a light, dusty powder. “They were in our house. There was fighting. I can’t forget what happened.”

“I can’t either.”

She heard her father swallow after saying the words.

“Sumac is as safe as we can get him. I can’t tell you anything in detail, and I hope you understand, but he is being watched, and you are being watched, and everything is as secure as we can get them right now. That’s the truth. Nothing will ever be perfect, but trying to take Sumac right now would be costly.” He drew in a deep breath, sighed, drew in another breath, and continued, “Trixie needs a little time to let her guard down and recover. It’s been very stressful on her and she hasn’t had the time she needs to pull herself together since everything happened. So if you can do anything to help her out, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll try to behave and not be antagonistic.” Pebble felt her cheeks grow warm, and her ears fell to the sides. “Sometimes that happens without me thinking about it.”

“Eh, you get that from me, obviously, but you’ve also got your mother’s dry snark.” After a pause, he kept going: “It feels funny to say that. It still blows my mind that I made you. Nutmeg too.”

“It still blows my mind that my mother let you—”

“That’s my girl!” Tarnish looked down and there was a wide grin on his face. “You keep that up, just make sure to drop those bombs on the right ponies. I’m proud of you.”

Pebble found herself blushing, and she gave her father’s leg tight squeeze. “Thank you.”

Author's Note

Yay! Everything finally clicked.

Chapter 17

“—so I thought we’d do some ice sculpting!” Tarnish stood in the snow and his chocolate pelt had a light dusting of white flakes. “It’s a little chilly, but it isn’t that cold out here. I thought a little creative expression would be good for all of us. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

In response, Octavia lobbed a snowball at Tarnish, and it struck him in the neck.

Sensing brutal conflict that would claim many lives and friendships, Lemon Hearts made her feelings known. “I think it’s a fine idea. A little time spent outside won’t be so bad and this sounds like a great idea, Tarnish.” While she spoke, Twinkleshine gave her a sour look, but Lemon just ignored it. She, Lemon Hearts, was the undisputed Queen of Sour Looks, and Twinkleshine’s attempt just wasn’t that impressive. Twinkleshine just wasn’t that powerful of a lemon-sucker.

Another snowball struck Tarnish, this one thrown by Pebble.

“Why would anypony sculpt ice?” Maud asked. “It just melts. Stone is a better medium.”

“Well, Maud, darling, stone can melt too,” Tarnish said, making his rebuttal.

“Tarnish… you make an excellent point, but I am going to throw a snowball at you just the same.” And so, Maud did throw a snowball, a rare outward display of her playful side.

Laughing, Lemon watched as Tarnish gave himself a shake, shedding the snow that clung to his pelt. Others were laughing too, and there was a crackle of magic as Vinyl began making blocks of ice for them to carve. These are good times, Lemon thought to herself, and good times had been in short supply. Trixie too, got involved in the ice production, and Tarnish revealed a stash of chisels that he had procured for this occasion.

Somewhat worried, but still laughing, she glanced over at Sumac, who was sitting on his sled so he would haven’t to sit in the snow. He was sitting up on his own, holding himself up, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. Lemon felt an immense feeling of pride while she gazed upon him, little Sumac, her little Sumac, showed so much promise with magic, and he had held his own in Twilight’s impromptu class. The worry departed, and Lemon felt her spirits soar. Sumac was happy, he was enjoying himself, and that is all she cared about.

Overcome with feeling, Lemon reached out one foreleg, hooked it around Trixie’s neck, hauled the startled mare in close, and kissed her on the cheek. Trixie sputtered, confused, a little embarrassed, but recovered. A warm, ruddy blush made the snowflakes on Trixie’s cheeks melt, and Lemon’s heart thudded against her ribs when Trixie did not pull away, but remained close.

“Hey,” Lemon whispered, her lips brushing up against Trixie’s heated cheek, “if you pose for me, I’ll immortalise you in ice. Or try to.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie will strike a Great and Powerful pose for her loyal subject.”

“Hey!” Lemon squeaked in protest, and this got Twinkleshine giggling.

The tip of Sumac’s tongue protruded from between his lips while he concentrated, trying to shape the ice with his chisel. He was completely and thoroughly engrossed in what he was doing, and because of this he did not notice Boomer and Megara trying to chomp the falling snowflakes. He worked alone, but was having a wonderful time.

Maud also worked alone, but had no chisel. Every now and then, she would reach out with one front hoof, strike, and chip away a little more ice from her sculpture, which just so happened to look a lot like Pebble. It was a logical extension of Maud’s behaviour; she had already made Pebble once, and therefore, due to this fact, she had experience in her daughter’s creation.

Sumac paused in his efforts and pulled the chisel away. His sculpture was a fish coming up out of the water, something he had decided to do on a whim. Fishes didn’t have complicated bits like legs, wings, horns, or difficult to make parts. So far, he had something that almost—but not quite—looked like a fish. Perhaps adding details like the scales would make it more fishy.

Tarnish worked with Pebble, he was armed with a chisel, but Pebble used her hoof like her mother. Their combined efforts had made something monstrous, a bugbear. If only everypony else could tell what it was. The pair of chocolatey brown ponies made a good team, however, with frequent, well-spoken communications and a clear plan of what needed to be done.

Lemon Hearts chipped away at her block of ice while Trixie stood in a dramatic pose. The task would have been easier, but Twinkleshine was being a pain in the plot, and she kept throwing snowballs at Trixie, who made horrendous faces in return to express her displeasure. Lemon Hearts, the patient one, continued chipping away with a warm, sunny smile that kept away winter’s chill.

As for Octavia and Vinyl, they too worked together on the same project, a pair of little ponies dancing with one another. So far, the details were quite good, Octavia knocked away the big chunks while Vinyl worked on the fine detail. Out of all of the sculptures, this one was the most promising.

Holding his chisel, Sumac was distracted by Boomer, and he took notice of her and Megara’s antics. The colt laughed, watching as they lept up into the air, trying to bite at the falling flakes. Over and over, Megara lept with her maw wide open, trying to catch as many of the offending flakes as possible. It didn’t look fun to him, but it looked fun for them, and he was glad that Boomer had found a boisterous playmate to keep her company.

Overhead, the skies were becoming a little less grey, and the sun made a valiant effort to shine through, producing a magnificent haze that dazzled the eyes even with the lack of direct light. The falling snow glittered like diamond flakes, refracting every bit of the available light into a brilliant display of winter’s glory.

And so it was that when the alarm went off for a second time on this perfect day, there was a minor panic. A long string of vile, vulgar expletives slipped out from Tarnish’s mouth, to which Octavia responded with a scolding glare. Maud lowered her chisel while her ears pivoted around, and she shook her head in disapproval.

“A pony goes through the trouble of building a wall… a fence… and has a gate… you’d think that ponies would get the idea that he wants to be left alone,” Tarnish said, enduring the withering glares now leveled at him. “I swear by Celestia’s cutie mark, if it is some salespony, somepony is getting cactused.”

“You stop conjugating nouns right now, Mister Teapot!” Lemon Hearts paused, looking confused, then asked, “Is that even a thing?” She blinked, shedding snowflakes from her eyelashes. “That’s kinda what he did, isn’t it, turning a noun into a conjugated verb? It sounds wrong and I don’t want Sumac learning it!”

“I’m gonna go and deal with our guests,” Tarnish snapped, and then he stomped off in the snow.

The guests, as it turned out, were family members, shown up unannounced. Sumac was almost overwhelmed by everything going on. Maud and Pebble were hugging Cloudy. Limestone was hugging Tarnish, causing his eyes to almost pop out of their sockets. Igneous was just standing there, looking gruff, and that was when Sumac noticed that the old stallion turned to look at him.

Much to Sumac’s shock as well as surprise, Igneous began to approach him, and the colt experienced a growing nervousness that threatened to overtake him. Igneous towered over him, which made Sumac look up, and when he moved his head, his neck crackled. His body went weak as a shudder shot through him, and he would have fallen had Igneous not caught him.

“Easy there, you’re the closest thing I have to a grandson.” While Igneous was a rough, gruff sort, his touch was gentle, and with a nudge, he set Sumac upright. With a turn of his head, he glanced at Pebble for a moment, then he looked back down at Sumac. “Does Pebble help look after you?”

“Yes.” Sumac felt nervous saying his reply, but he didn’t know why.

“Good.” Igneous’ utterance of the word was rough, almost guttural. “It means she’s being raised right. I’ve worried ever since she’s left the rock farm. I get afeard of what the big city might do to her.”

“Where’d my little Nutmeg get off to?” Tarnish grunted while Limestone almost juiced him.

Boomer pointed at the kitchen doorway, looking fearful. “Scared.”

Cloudy reacted, and with terrifying ease, she shrugged off both Maud and Pebble. “I want to see her. I’m dying to see her… where is she, I want to see her right now.”

“Mother, please,” Maud began, but she was cut off.

“Now hush, Maudlin, I want to see my granddaughter!”

“And that’s what we’ve been worried about.” Maud’s words made her mother’s head turn and her ears rose.

“Now look here, Missy… I won’t take your sass.” Cloudy’s brows furrowed into deep wrinkles and her thin lips clung to her teeth. “Tarnished Teapot is my son. My son…” She paused for a moment to allow her words to settle in, and her nostrils flared. “I don’t care how it happened, I don’t care about the details, I don’t even want to know, because I’m positive that it is an unpleasant story of woe. But none of that changes the fact that he is my son, and by extension, that makes Megara my granddaughter. Now… I wish to see her!”

“I don’t know what I expected.” Maud’s voice was a much quieter and flatter deadpan than usual. “We made such a big deal about it behind closed doors. We worried about it. We lost sleep over it. We both wanted her to know her grandparents but we were worried about what you would think about her.”

“Why would you think that?” Cloudy asked, her voice soft, low, and full of concern.

“You don’t exactly approve of everything we do,” Maud replied to her mother.

The older mare’s eyes closed for a moment while she nodded, and when she opened her eyes once more, she had this as a response: “That’s fair of you to say. I haven’t always handled myself in the way that I should have.” She glanced over at Octavia and Vinyl, then looked Maud in the eye. “I’m right proud of you and what you are doing though. Not every mare would do what you have done. I am very, very proud of you, and I don’t have the words to express it.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Maud shuffled a bit on her hooves, a powerful, expressive reaction for her.

Sumac suffered a peculiar feeling of wondering if he belonged here. This was a private dispute, a family dispute, and it felt strange to observe it. There was a tension in the air now, uncomfortable, it was as if the chilly room had become far too warm and it was now difficult to breathe. Stuffy. He started to tip over again, his neck was cramping up something awful since trying to look up, and Igneous pushed him back into a sitting position before he fell over.

“I have something to say.” Octavia cleared her throat, and she seemed rather scared. Or maybe nervous, or apprehensive. It was hard to tell, because she was doing her best to hide it. “This is my home too… I helped to buy and pay for it. I live here… I work here… and I don’t want any fighting here.”

“I didn’t come to fight—”

“Cloudy, your advice and suggestions for how things ought to be aren’t always well received.” Octavia began tapping the edge of her right front hoof against the floor. “So I am asking for a truce during the holidays. I know what you expect from me and Vinyl. In the past, you and I have exchanged some bitter, heated words. I will not have this holiday ruined.”

“I understand.” Cloudy’s voice was gritty.

“As concessions for the state of ceasefire, this truce”—Octavia’s eyebrow raised while one eye squinted in a shrewd manner— “this foal of mine that Tarnish so graciously helped me to create through his contribution, he or she will know you as their grandmare.”

The tension in the room now was palpable, and Sumac could feel it, it was like humidity on a hot summer day, just before a thunderstorm happened. Cloudy had gone as still as a statue, not even blinking. When she did finally blink, Sumac saw a tear fall, and he felt himself growing emotional, as if he was about to have himself a good cry, which he didn’t want to have happen. It would be embarrassing.

Cloudy’s voice was thick, gritty, and she sounded choked up. “That’s all I ever wanted in the first place…”

“I know.” Octavia nodded, and while doing so, her face relaxed into a pleasant smile. “But this is being done on my own terms, in my own way. Now, I hope we have a pleasant holiday together.”

The older mare nodded. “I’d like that.”

Author's Note

Everything will be fine! Don’t panic!

Chapter 18

Lunch would be served soon, and Sumac was too overwhelmed to even notice what it might be. There was warmth and life in this old house now, both the warmth of bodies and emotional warmth. The kitchen was crowded, packed with bodies, which now included Pinkie Pie after Octavia had gone to fetch her. There was laughter, there was talking, with everypony trying to talk over everypony else, and all of it was just too much.

Megara was being cuddled by Cloudy, who treated Megara quite like a housecat. This worried Sumac, it bothered him, but he lacked the means to put it into words. It was like when somepony treated Boomer like a pet, like some lizard. Even if he could say something, he didn’t dare disrespect Cloudy. That would be wrong. Perhaps Tarnish might say something later, make some gentle suggestion, or maybe Maud.

In an instant, everything changed, and the kitchen went silent.

“Pebble Pie,” Igneous said to his granddaughter, “it is time that you and I had a talk, and I explain to you a filly’s duties… a mare’s duties as well, but those will come later.”

Blinking, Sumac did his best to figure out why everything had gone silent, but he drew blanks. The many mares of the kitchen were staring at Igneous, and Octavia in particular looked quite distressed. He wondered why, not understanding, but he could feel the undercurrent of turmoil in the silence. Octavia’s mouth opened, closed, opened again, and then closed with a click of her perfect teeth. Beside her, Vinyl looked guarded, and the corners of her mouth were pulled downwards.

“Pebble Pie, you have a special somepony, which makes this talk a little more meaningful, I suppose.” Igneous reached out, pulled his granddaughter closer, and then smoothed out her rumpled dress. “Now you listen to me carefully, ‘cause I’m going to tell you how things are and how things should be.”

Twinkleshine, who looked angry, started to say something but Lemon jammed a hoof into her mouth. The hairs along the back of Sumac’s neck rose as he had the first inkling that perhaps, something wasn’t quite right, and that something might actually be wrong. The tension almost became suffocating, and he wondered if he was sitting too close to the fire.

“Every little filly, and later, every mare, they have a duty, an obligation to their special someponies and their husbands.” Igneous gave Pebble a squeeze, oblivious to the situation around him, or maybe he just didn’t care. “With you being a little filly, this sacred duty falls upon you, Pebble Pie.”

“What do I need to do?” Pebble asked in deadpan.

“It is your job to learn how to sass your special somepony.”

Octavia appeared as though she deflated, and Lemon pulled her hoof out of Twinkleshine’s mouth with a wet sounding pop. Now, Sumac was even more confused, and had even less of an understanding of what was going on. Pinkie Pie let heave a wistful sigh as she looked at her sister, Limestone, and both mares shared a smile with one another.

“Behind every great stallion is an even greater mare, Pebble Pie.” Igneous cast his gaze over at Cloudy for a moment, then returned his attention to his granddaughter. “Now, sass is like sunshine… or rain… you need enough of it, but not too much. Too little rain, and everything dries up and dies. Too much rain, and everything floods. A mare, or in your case, a filly, has an obligation to keep a stallion… or a colt on his hooves. Do you follow?”

“I think so?” Pebble replied, sounding dubious.

“A stallion is all about ego… showing off. He’ll get a big head from time to time, a puffed out barrel. This happens too often, and it’ll lead him down a path of ruination. So it falls on a wise mare’s shoulders to give him some much needed sass, and keep him level headed. The real trick is doing it right, Pebble Pie… too much sass, and you’ll reduce him to nothing, you’ll diminish him. Too little sass, and he’ll get outta hoof. But you do it right, and he’ll level out and do right.”

“I remember when I got this talk,” Limestone said to Pinkie, and the pink mare beside her nodded.

“Now Sumac here… he’s a bit special, he’s a sorcerer, and he’s bound to have a lot of ponies flattering his ego, giving him a big head, and filling his mind with nonsense that’ll give him delusions of grandeur.” Igneous paused for a moment, cleared his throat, and gave Pebble a squeeze. “If you really care about him, Pebble, you’ll pop that big head of his with a pin and keep his hooves on the ground. Do you understand?”

Sumac’s mouth fell open when Pebble nodded, and without understanding why, he was now afraid. When Octavia began laughing, he became even more confused, and the poor colt, overwhelmed, lacked the means to express himself in an adequate manner. The tension that had built in the kitchen was now gone, dispelled, banished.

“Maud, did your father… did your father have this talk with you?”

“Well, of course, Tarnish.”

“Do you do this to me?”

“Look at you… so clever, so quick to catch on. This is how you proved to be adequate enough to be a father.”

“Right, then.” Tarnish nodded, prodded his wife with his hoof, and nodded again. “Carry on.”

“Now, Pebble, this is a door that swings both ways.” Deep furrows formed in Igneous’ brows, and the sudden appearance of wrinkles made him appear wizened, somehow much older than he was. “Seeing as how Sumac doesn’t have a father to give him this sort of talk, I suppose it falls on me to have this chat with him, if his mothers will allow it.”

The words had scarcely left his mouth when Trixie blurted out, “Please do!”

“Well, that settles things then.” Sighing, Igneous’ face relaxed, and many of the wrinkles eased away, or vanished altogether. “Now, us Pies, Coffins, and Coffyns, we’re known for our wit. It’s dry, and flaky, like a pie crust. But also like a pie crust, it is firm, supportive. A pie crust has to be stiff, starchy, if it is to stand up on the plate and keep its shape. If a pie falls flat, it becomes nothing more than a puddle, so the crust is the most important part in the relationship.”

“I understand, Grandfather.” Pebble tilted her head back and she looked quite solemn.

“But a pie crust all by its lonesome?” Igneous shook his head from side to side, looking grim. “Nopony wants to eat that. The sweet parts tend to be the soft parts, the parts that can’t stand up on their own, and it is only when you combine them, when you take the sweet, soft stuff and combine it with the stiff, sturdy, supporting stuff, that you get a proper pie.”

“I was a pie crust for too long,” Maud deadpanned. “I found some chocolate filling.”

“This… actually… makes sense.” Pebble drew out the words, and her eyes glittered with thoughtfulness. “Wow, this actually makes a lot of sense. Thank you, Grandfather.” Looking pensive, she leaned up against the older stallion, and then went as still as a stone.

“I got some filling for you, Maud.”

“You keep your custard to yourself.”

The joke was lost on Sumac, who like Pebble, was now lost in deep thought. The colt had retreated deep into his own mind, off to find some undiscovered country in the back woods of his psyche. If Pebble was the stiff one, the supportive one, that made him the soft one. This did not alarm him, or bother him, or make him feel lesser, he accepted it without question and saw it for what it was; he was far more vulnerable than Pebble was, and that was okay.

“Big Mac is worried that Sumac is going to grow up and become a sissy,” Pebble said while rubbing her front hooves together.

“Is that so?” The words coming out of Igneous’ mouth were gentle, carried no derision, and cast no judgment. “Well, that’s a reasonable fear, I suppose. I guess if I was to sit down and have a think about it, I might even share his worry. Mac is a self made stallion… his parents died before they could pass on everything that he needs to know, so he had to grow up in a hurry, and he had to do it on his own. It’s probably just his way of relating to Sumac, seeing as how the colt is in a similar situation. I wouldn’t let it worry you, Pebble.”

“How’d you get so wise?” Pebble asked.

“I’ve lived a long time with a sassy wife,” Igneous replied.

“I’m gonna be a wise, wise pony someday.”

“Now you’re just taking my sass for granite.”

“Oh, boo!” Lemon Hearts cried out in protest while she stared at Tarnish and Maud.

Sumac, lost in thought, having tumbled down the well of introversion, heard none of this.

Leaning over, Twinkleshine gave Trixie a nudge in the ribs with her elbow. “Psst, hey… Trix, you happy?”

Distracted, Trixie did not respond, and continued staring straight ahead. This worried Twinkleshine, of course, and she began to wonder what Lemon might do. The lemony one was the relationship specialist, the mechanic that held this rickety contraption together. Unable to think of what Lemon might do, Twinkleshine reached out, grabbed Trixie’s foreleg, and gave it a yank.

“Hey, Trix, you happy? Are you okay? You’ve been staring out the window now for a good five minutes, hardly blinking, and barely moving. For a time, I wasn’t even sure if you were breathing, and it scared me.”

What happened next unnerved Twinkleshine, and she found herself in strange circumstances. “Hold me,” she heard Trixie say, and it was not a question, nor was it a request for permission. Leaning back against the sofa, Twinkleshine opened her forelegs while Trixie clambered closer and crawled into her equinal space.

“What’s wrong?” Twinkleshine asked.

“That conversation earlier, just before lunch… with Igneous and Pebble… it bothered me.”

“What he had to say?” Baffled, Twinkleshine cursed her own thick-headedness.

“No.” Trixie shook her head, and her muzzle brushed up against Twinkleshine’s cheek. “Us. We heard Igneous talking to Pebble and we immediately assumed the worst of him. We all did it, Twinkleshine… we all thought that he was going to say some horrible sexist thing to Pebble and teach her her place as a filly.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought was going to happen,” Twinkleshine confessed.

“But to hear him empower her…” Trixie wrapped her forelegs around Twinkleshine’s neck, and then rested her head against the pearlescent mare’s cheek. “Trixie is confused and shaken right now. I’ve been torn down by Igneous… he said things… true things… have I been so hurt and damaged by the world that I immediately assume the worst of ponies? Trixie feels ashamed, Twinkleshine… so very ashamed.”

“Well, that’s a safe position to take,” Twinkleshine whispered, fearing that she was saying the wrong thing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that Octavia and Vinyl had the same fears as we did.” A warm, humid heat formed between her body and the mare she held, a delightful, arousing heat that manifested scalp-tingling static crackles that arced along the belly. Reaching down, she ran one foreleg along Trixie’s hip, down her thigh, and then along the length of her leg.

“Twinkle—”

“You want me to stop?” She pulled her hoof away and endured a powerful internal cringe. She always picked the worst times to be affectionate, it seemed. Always the most inappropriate time. Lemon was trying to help, trying to fix it, but Twinkleshine knew that she was a grabby, gropey sort. It was easier than talking, by far.

“No, Twinkle… keep… keep doing that. Trixie likes it. I like it. I need to feel safe right now, like nothing can touch me so I can sort out what is inside of my head.”

“So it is okay if I grope you?” Twinkleshine, a bold pony, wasted no time and got herself a hooffull of cutie mark. She was rewarded with a somewhat nervous sounding giggle, and she contented herself with what she had. She could grope other things later. When their bellies rubbed together, Twinkleshine’s mood turned both amorous and protective. Physically, she was a bigger mare than Trixie, in both bulk and mass. Out of the three of them all, she was the biggest and strongest.

Which wasn’t saying much, as she was still a dainty little unicorn, more fluff than tough.

Tilting her head a little, Twinkleshine whispered into a blue, quivering ear, “Trixie Lulamoon… I am filled with lesbian lust for you. I just thought you should know, you give me a teeny, tiny filly hardon.” For a moment, there was nothing, and she feared that she might have, perhaps, gone too far, but then Trixie’s warm, velvety body began twitching with a bad case of the stifled giggles.

“Don’t let go of me,” Trixie begged, half-laughing.

She realised that this was the secret to getting Trixie turned on, and Twinkleshine gave the mare in her embrace an aggressive, possessive squeeze. Instead of talking dirty, Trixie needed more ‘talk protective’ to get warmed up. “I’m never letting go of you…”

Author's Note

Twinkleshine: aggressive ball of fluff. Grr!

Chapter 19

“Don’t you foals ever play?” Cloudy asked while she gave her granddaughter Pebble a poke with her hoof. “You know, playing… that thing that foals do. Acting silly when the hard work is done. Pretending. Imagining. Having fun. Something. Anything.”

Sumac watched Pebble turn her head to look at him, and instead of her usual deadpan expression, there was a pleading look. A silent exchange took place, the sort that can only happen between friends who truly knew one another, and Sumac conveyed that he was helpless. Pebble’s nostrils flared in disgust, and with a slow turn of her head, she returned her attention to her grandmother.

“You could play house,” Limestone suggested and her eyes blazed with sudden enthusiasm. Every little foal loved to play house, or to play house with dolls.

“Hey, Maud… you wanna play house?”

Ears perking, both Cloudy and Limestone waited for Maud’s deadpan response to Tarnish.

“Fine, what did you have in mind, Tarnish…”

“Well, you could be the house’s screen door and I could—MMMPH!”

Tarnish was interrupted by Maud’s hoof being inserted into his mouth, and he sat beside her, flailing, trying to break free, while Maud shook her head from side to side. Limestone began snickering, while Cloudy made concerned maternal equine noises deep in her throat. Octavia, who sat by the window, began to snortle-chortle and almost dropped her teacup.

“What was Tarnish gonna say?” Sumac asked while he looked up at Limestone with big, innocent eyes. So innocent that they glimmered with innocence, and never was a foal more irreproachable than Sumac was at that moment in space and time.

Now, Limestone looked panicked. The big, innocent eyes were a dangerous weapon.

“Tarnish was going to play the part of a handypony, repairing the door and oiling it so it doesn’t squeak…” Cloudy’s words trailed off and her cheeks began to redden. “Sometimes, when you slam the screen door… er, um, when you bang the screen door… no… this is why you must never be careless with your screen door, Sumac Apple. Slow and gentle each time, even if you are in a hurry.”

“Good job, Mom. You didn’t mess that up at all. Great work.” Reaching out, Limestone clapped her mother on the back. “At least you taught them the virtues of proper lubrication. Can’t have that screen door squeaking every time it opens and closes.”

“Shut up, Limestone.” The corners of Cloudy’s mouth were now twitching, and her eyes twinkled with suppressed merriment. With swift, sudden movement, Cloudy twisted her body around, wrapped her forelegs around her daughter, pulled her close, and squeezed her. Then, both of them began sniggering together.

Sumac was quite confused, and didn’t know what was going on. “Pebble?”

“Yeah?”

“Things are weird again, Pebble.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Think you can school me in physics?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Let’s get out of here before things get any stranger.”

The afternoon stretched into an endless expanse, as afternoons tended to do. The house was alive now, brimming with warmth and life. Music played, and sweet, harmonious sounds came from the high-fidelity phonograph. The album was one of Octavia’s, an experimental piece that consisted of her playing the cello while accompanied by a dozen giant kettle drums. The album was fittingly called Elephants.

Pinkie Pie was rather sedate—quiet in the most unusual way—and she remained close to her father, glad to be with him, near him, beside him. She laughed often at things her father had to say, but it was toned down. Her sister, Maud however, was far more expressive than usual, having much more to say, and one might even say that Maud had a mood of some sort going on. Something, some unknown factor was having a tremendous impact upon her, and Maud was now almost, but not quite, expressive.

She had even smiled a few times, if one could call it that. One had to be creative in what one considered a smile when dealing with Maud, and keep a very flexible definition. Maud smiled like the Epona Lisa smiled, a sweet and subtle thing that was easy to miss, or mistake for something else, such as the need to sneeze or a foal’s reaction to gas.

For Cloudy, she was living every mother’s wish, every mother’s fantasy. Her daughter, Maud, had grown up well, had her own house, and had filled it with family. She was sitting with Octavia and Vinyl, laughing, talking, and making up for lost time. Not only was the peace holding, but it was increasing in strength with rapidity.

Sitting on the floor, Tarnish was having a conversation with his daughter, Megara, and Boomer. He was patient, sometimes laughing, and tried to help with any words they stumbled over. Megara was bright, attentive, and adjusting well to such a loving, nurturing environment. The conversation meandered, drifting from topic to topic due to Boomer’s many questions.

Surrounded by love, the many different kinds of love, Cadance’s healing magic continued its slow work, knitting back connections, strengthening muscles, and repairing the damage done to Sumac by Queen Chrysalis during his capture. With each passing moment, with each laugh, with each affectionate touch, with every act of affection that took place, Sumac grew stronger.

The magic went unnoticed.

Sumac had the most unexpected supper companion. Pinny Lane had arrived in a flurry of howling wind and snow, apologising for her tardiness. She then proceeded to embarrass her son with a blizzicane of affection to prove that she hadn’t been trying to abandon him again. The big mare, and Pinny Lane was a big mare, no doubt, was the only pony around who could compete with Tarnish for height.

She had come armed with garish holiday sweaters, one of which Sumac was wearing right now. The sweater in question was a bright, vivid shade of blue, an electric blue, and it had pink flames along the sides representing hearthfire. Sumac hadn’t even had the chance to protest, Pinny had hugged him, almost to death, and when he was recovering the sweater had been slipped on.

Pebble wore one over her dress as well, hers was a cheerful holiday green and it was covered in red glass ornaments, like the kind a pony hung from a tree. Calling it tacky would be kind, calling it an eyesore would be an Applejack-ism. Pebble, upon being accosted, had reacted with stony, profound silence, knowing the folly of sassing her long, tall grandmother.

Pinny sat beside him, to his right, while Lemon Hearts sat to his left. The table was crowded, almost too crowded, and Sumac was having a hard time with the press of bodies. He was certain that Octavia was having trouble as well, and he hoped that maybe, when the meal was done, they could talk about it together. It kept him going.

With his fork, he stabbed a pumpkin and pickled sweet red pepper filled ravioli. He didn’t much care for red bell peppers, they weren’t something he liked very much, but Vinyl had insisted that he wouldn’t taste them much and she was right. They were a background flavour, secondary to the sweet, savoury taste of the pumpkin filling inside of the pillowy, chewy pasta.

“Look at you!” Pinny gushed. “Such good manners for a colt your age! You do need just a little help though, hold on.” With no further warning, she went to work and wiped Sumac’s snoot with a napkin. When she was done, she nodded, pleased with the results. “There. Now you have a boopable snoot again.”

“Thank you.” Sumac felt his cheeks flush and he had a sudden need for a drink. Still holding his fork, he reached out, gripped his glass, lifted it, and that was when things became interesting.

The glass popped, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces, and the apple juice inside of it would have spilled all over the table had Vinyl not caught it. Stunned, Sumac sat there, unable to respond, overwhelmed with the sudden urge to cry for what he had done. When he blinked, his eyes stung with tears, and he felt Pinny’s foreleg slip around his withers.

“It’s okay, Sumac. This happens. Tarnish did this too.”

The glass shards glowed with a blinding flash of light, and then the glass was whole again. Vinyl’s face evidenced her effort, her muzzle scrunching from concentration, and she allowed the apple juice to pour back into the now whole glass. The glass was set down and everything was fine again, except for Sumac.

“Come on, hold it together.” Pinny gave the little colt a squeeze. “It’s okay. Nopony is going to punish you for accidents or growing up. If you’re feeling embarrassed, that’s fine too.”

The sudden shift of moods, along with the press of bodies proved to be too much, and with a shudder, the first tear fell. The fork clattered to his plate, bounced, and then landed upon the table. Sumac very much wanted to be away from the table, away from his mistake, his clumsiness, and he couldn’t bear to look anypony in the eye.

“Here we go… it’s like with the sled… we talked about this, girls.” Twinkleshine, who sat between Lemon Hearts and Trixie, looked at her two companions, turning her head from side to side. “So, who deals with this one?”

“I will,” Pinny offered, and before he could protest, Sumac was snatched up out of his seat.

The lid of the toilet seat was cold to sit on, but it was warming bit by bit. Pinny Lane stood by the sink, waiting for the hot water to kick in, and she held a fresh, clean washcloth in her magic. Sumac took some consolation that he was only half-crying in the bathroom with a pony that, truth be told, he didn’t know very well. His ears burned with shame, a fire hot enough to keep the cold chill of the bathroom air away.

“Why are you helping me?” Sumac asked, and it was a struggle to say each word.

“Because, I want to get to know you,” Pinny replied while she waited for the water to get hot. “Sometimes, to really get to know a pony, you have to be with them during the bad times. You never get to see the real pony during the good times.”

The colt didn’t know how to respond to that, so he remained silent.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Pinny’s head turned, and she looked Sumac right in the eye. “I’ll tell you a secret and then both of us can understand one another a little better.” She inhaled, sucking in a deep breath, and then it took her a moment to prepare herself for what she had to say next. “I still feel bad for what I did to my son. I know it wasn’t my fault, but the guilt is still there. So, when I get a chance to do mom-stuff, like now, I jump on it. It makes me feel better, like I’m paying back a debt.”

“But… but… but…” Sumac stammered, trying to make words. He knew a little bit about what happened, but he wasn’t sure he knew enough to say anything. It didn’t stop him from trying though. “But it wasn’t your fault!” His words came out as a shrill nasal whine.

“And breaking the glass wasn’t your fault, but you’re still torn up about it, aren’t you?”

She had him there, and Sumac was now too distracted to keep up with his state of almost-but-not-quite-blubbering. There was an argument to make, but he was in no condition to make a good one. Crestfallen, he let out a shuddery sigh, sniffled as a few more tears trickled free, and then stared down at the tile floor. No words came, even though he tried with as much effort as he could muster, and he did not respond when Pinny pulled his glasses from his face.

A second later, a hot, steaming washcloth was draped over his eyes, blinding him, and the sudden darkness, the sudden lack of vision was soothing. Lemon Hearts did this sometimes, and it always seemed to help. The sound of hooves clicking on the tile floor could be heard, and there was a squeak when the hot water faucet was turned off.

“I still break glasses sometimes,” Pinny said to Sumac. “And I am not skilled enough to repair them. I’m strong and I’m clumsy… well, clumsy most of the time. I channeled all of that strength and power into bowling, and I do pretty good with it. When I focus on my gift, my talent, I’m not clumsy at all. But getting a drink? Sometimes, I still mess up. You need to make peace with it now, Sumac.”

It was almost painful gulping in enough air to keep breathing, and it made his neck ache.

“It’s tough being a little unicorn, but you have friends to help you, Sumac Apple…”

Author's Note

Why yes, the innuendos in the background are going to continue, why do you ask?

Chapter 20

Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled, and the first of the heavy rain began to pound upon the roof of the vardo. Sumac, unafraid, continued looking out of the glassless window, enjoying the cool, damp wind upon his face. When the lightning flashed again, the little colt didn’t budge, but continued standing with his front hooves resting upon the window sill.

“Look at you… so brave… the Great and Powerful Trixie is proud of her apprentice.”

The colt turned a bit, just enough to see his master out of the corner of his eye. “Proud?”

“You are now what… two years old?” Trixie leaned against the wall and made herself comfortable in her fold down bunk. “Most ponies are spineless, sniveling cowards… they frighten easy. A wild storm scares them. They’ve never left the safety of the cities… they’ve never seen nature in all of its powerful glory or majesty. They’ve only ever witnessed the nature they control and have domain over. Out here in the wilds, a pony learns just how weak they are, how insignificant they are. Only those who survive become great… and powerful.”

The colt’s ears stood up, and he did his best to listen to every word spoken by his master. His stomach rumbled, then squelched within his too-small frame. When lightning flashed again, Sumac’s short bobbed tail wiggled against his skinny backside while thunder rumbled through the valley.

“Sorry, Kiddo.” Trixie’s face was apologetic. “Not much food. The Great and Powerful Trixie, being a kind and just master for her apprentice, has given him the lion’s share. She is sorry that it was not enough.” A long, weary sigh escaped as she began rubbing her swollen foreleg, wincing with every touch. “Trixie is still impressed by how fearless her apprentice is, and that he isn’t hiding in a box or under his blanket.”

Tapping one hoof against the now damp window sill, he replied, “Kiddo likes storms.”

“Indeed!” Trixie nodded, still rubbing her bad leg. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has a Fearless and Funny Kiddo!” She smiled, a warm, sincere smile, and there was happiness in her eyes, at least for a time. When Sumac’s stomach growled again, her smile sagged and some of the brightness in her eyes faded. Once more she sighed, a wistful sound with the falling rain, and she kept trying to rub away the ache in her leg, brought about by the cool dampness.

“Tell you what, Kiddo… in the morning, when the rain is over, if it is over, we’ll both go outside and we’ll eat the grass. It’ll be tender and soft from the rain, and we can get our bellies full. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!” Sumac’s head nodded up and down a few times, and then he returned to looking out the window, while Trixie continued to rub her leg.

“Do you remember this?” a voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere. “We think you do, Sumac Apple. You were at that age when memories form.” The words were punctuated by a terrific crash of thunder that made the whole wagon shake.

The little colt now looked scared, and his ears pinned down in fear.

“Know the truth of this matter, colt!” the voice bellowed while lightning flashed. “Two days before, Trixie Lulamoon had a choice! Purchase some of the medicated balm that brought her a small measure of comfort, or to buy you an apple. She bought the apple, leaving her without enough coin to buy her medicine!”

The colt whined, now panicked.

“LOVE, HONOUR, AND OBEY YOUR MOTHER!”

With a shrill squeak, Sumac bolted awake, and in doing so, he kicked Pebble right in the face. Pebble, not bothered by his feeble kick at all, not even in the slightest, woke up with a startled snort. Sumac, panicked, lapsed into a near-pant, and he shivered in the bed while Pebble tried to figure out what was going on.

“I want my mama!”

With a rough shove, Pebble got Megara moving, and then gave a simple command: “Nutmeg! Go fetch Trixie! Do it, now!”

Boomer emerged from beneath the blankets, bleary eyed, sleepy, and little curls of smoke rose from her tiny pinprick nostrils. She crawled along her belly, scrambling over Pebble, and then slid down the other side to land upon Sumac’s face. She tugged an ear once, and then began providing ear scratches with her tiny, dextrous fingers.

“Mama?” Boomer’s voice was squeaky, soft, and almost inaudible because of Sumac’s panting. It was cold in the room, and more than smoke trailed out with each breath she took. Now wide awake, Boomer coiled herself around Sumac’s horn, then pulled his soft, velvety ear around her head like a scarf.

A few eyeblinks later, Lemon Hearts came crashing through the door, bumping into it, and Trixie shoved her out of the way. Trixie suffered the same fate when Twinkleshine came stomping in, and behind the three mares, Pinny Lane towered over them all while she stood in the doorway. Megara slunk between their legs, avoided their stomping hooves, and rushed back to the cold bed, all while trying to keep the pads of her paws from touching the icy cold stone floor.

“Nightmare,” Boomer said, being helpful.

“Fronk… I was scared.” Lemon almost panted out the words and ignored Twinkleshine’s rising eyebrow. “Everything is fine… great fronkity fronking alicorns, this floor is cold!”

“So this is what Lemon is like when she’s not awake enough to run the swear filter,” Twinkleshine remarked, and this got her a rough shove from Trixie.

“All of you, go back to bed, I have this.” Trixie began to cross the room towards Pebble’s bed, with both worry and relief upon her face. At Pebble’s bedside, she paused, stood there, and then she kissed each of the little ones one by one. Lifting up the edge of the blankets, she crawled into Pebble’s bed—somehow managing to fit—and pulled Sumac close to her.

Boomer slipped back beneath the blankets, returning to her role as the bed heater, and Pebble scooted a little closer to Sumac. Megara, back in the bed, snuggled up against her sister, Pebble, and let out a ferocious-sounding feline yawn. In the doorway, both Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine lingered, and behind them, Pinny Lane stood watching.

When Megara yawned again a second time, the watchers were gone.

The kitchen would soon be warm, but Sumac wasn’t waiting. He sat on the hearth, yawning, and if he was still troubled from last night, he showed no signs of it. Boomer was trying to hurry the fire along, blasting the logs with little gouts of flame to get them ignited. The colt yawned again, not realising how adorable he looked when doing it, and watched as Tarnish chopped up apples with a cleaver.

Pebble also sat on the hearth, and she was trying to brush her sister’s mane, though there was no success to be had in taming it. If anything, brushing it just added more body, and the cinnamony tufts of ruddy red hair stood out in defiance. Encountering resistance, Pebble gave a good hard yank on the brush, and this caused Megara to let out the most pitiful sounding yowl heard so far.

“No brushie brushie!” Megara whimpered as she tried to squirm away from Pebble.

“Well, how else do you expect to be groomed?” Pebble demanded.

With a terrifying feline suppleness, Megara twisted her body around in Pebble’s embrace, her neck turned in the most unnatural, most boneless sort of way, and then, without warning, she licked her sister’s face. For a moment, nothing happened, there was no reaction of any sort from Pebble, but then it registered just what had happened.

“Oh… YUCK!”

Megara gave Pebble a second lick with her rough, sandpapery tongue, going against the grain of Pebble’s pelt. This second lick was far more slobbery, started at the base of Pebble’s jaw, and ended with Megara’s tongue going into her sister’s ear. Eyes going wide, the chocolate brown earth pony filly trembled with disgust, but did not let go of her manticore spawn sister.

“Lick!” Megara said, somehow sounding haughty. “Not stupid brush. Brushie brushie hurts!”

“I feel gross,” Pebble said to anypony that might be listening.

“Pebble, don’t hurt your sister’s feelings. Now let her groom you in return.”

At the sound of Maud’s voice, Pebble’s head turned—a glistening bead of slobber rolled down her jawline while doing so—and she said to her mother, “I can’t tell if you are joking.”

“I can’t either.” Pinkie Pie, not quite awake, shrugged by raising both forelegs. “But it does seem fair. Now, Pebble, stop complaining and enjoy special sister slobber time.”

“No.” Pebble’s deadpan response was followed up with her turning her focused stare upon Sumac. She relaxed her embrace of Megara and something of a smile could be seen on her muzzle, but it was a terrible, awful, horrible, nasty, not good smile. “Megara, Sumac is a dirty colt… go help groom him.”

“What?” Sumac’s voice was a squeak of panic. “No!”

“Be gentle, Meg!” Pebble commanded while she gave her sister a shove towards the colt sitting on the hearth.

Megara’s upwards-pointing tusks gave her the most fantastic predator’s grin…

“Vinyl, quick, get the camera!” Tarnish paused in his chopping, eager to watch the live action nature documentary that was taking place in his kitchen. “Hurry it up, Vinyl!”

Sumac, unable to move away, let out a squeak of alarm when Megara pounced on him. It was like being hit by a pound of feathers, rather than a pound of bricks, but at least it wasn’t a pound of friendship, which Discord claimed weighed as much as five tons of flax. Megara growled, a sociable, ‘Hi, I am happy to see you!’ growl, but Sumac didn’t know that. As he was swept up in the manticore spawn’s fuzzy-wuzzy embrace, he gave his mother, Trixie, a pleading glance, but it was ignored.

Trixie had a great and powerful sleepiness to contend with still.

With a slurp, Megara licked Sumac’s face, and Sumac was powerless to stop her.

The cup of tea no longer steamed, having been cooled down with a generous splash of milk. A little honey had been squirted in, and Sumac was having what he felt was a grown up moment, despite his earlier misfortune and betrayal. Having tea always made him feel older somehow, more sophisticated, and he was always more self conscious of his foalish behaviour when there was a teacup in front of him.

During the hard times, the lean times, tea was special, a rare, welcomed treat. Trixie even recycled tea sachets, insisting that they were good for a couple of dunks. Hunched over his tea, the introspective little colt had a hazy recollection of his dream, but most of what he remembered was falling asleep in his mother’s embrace last night, with Pebble snuggled up against his back.

Glancing over at Octavia, Sumac tried to mimic her behaviour, without looking like he was mimicking her behaviour. He sat up as straight as he could, which was a struggle, and he adjusted his ears to get them at just the right angle. Grittish ponies held their ears in a different way, and Sumac did his best to emulate that.

Perhaps aware of the fact that she was being watched, or maybe having sensed it, Octavia sat up a little straighter, flicked her ears, and then she took a prim, proper slurp of tea. Savouring the quiet, Sumac continued his efforts to copy Octavia. Breakfast had too much hustle and bustle, too much noise, too many ponies all in one place, but this… this was just what he needed.

Sumac failed to notice that Vinyl was mimicking him, and was watching him with a near-manic gleam in her eye while she drank her Lady Grey tea. Vinyl, being Vinyl, ratcheted the act up to eleven, holding her lip stiff, and looking as snooty as possible. Still, Sumac failed to notice the quiet, subtle battle that was taking place between him and his master, an unspoken competition of who could out Octavia Octavia.

Slurping her tea, Octavia swallowed, let out a soft whicker of pleasure, and continued to stare straight ahead. Sumac too, slurped his tea, a loud slurp, even though it wasn’t necessary because his tea wasn’t steaming hot. Unbeknownst to him, Vinyl, looking oh so snooty and dignified, had crossed her eyes.

Something else Sumac failed to notice: the left corner of Octavia’s mouth twitching.

Octavia blinked her eyes, a posh blink indeed, and continued to ignore her companions. Sumac was still too busy staring at Octavia to notice that Vinyl’s eyes were crossed. The quiet calm continued, and Sumac remained oblivious to the danger lurking in his blindspot. There was only so much that he could do to try and copy Octavia, but to be really classy, Sumac realised that he needed a mustache. Yes, a well-waxed curlicued mustache was just what he needed to do this right.

A change happened, leaving Sumac confused, as Octavia leaned off to one side just a bit. Her sides expanded like bellows, and the muscles in her neck grew taut. What was she doing? Was she stretching? About to yawn? Sumac watched with keen interest, and then, much to his shock and dismay, he found out what she was doing.

Octavia let one rip in a way that only stocky, stolid earth ponies could. She did it while looking so serene, so dignified, and her stiff upper lip never softened. After about four seconds—it took time for his brain to process what had just happened—and the sudden realisation almost made Sumac drop his teacup. Creamy brown tea sloshed over the side of his cup and splashed down onto the table while he tried to recover his senses.

“Rude!” Vinyl cried, using Octavia’s voice. Then, without further ado, Vinyl put down her teacup, gagged, fell over out of her chair, and died. She lay on the floor in peaceful repose, her forelegs folded over her barrel, and her eyes were still crossed.

Saying nothing, Octavia kept calm, and carried on.

“I… I don’t… I don’t understand what just happened,” Sumac stammered.

In response, Octavia blinked, almost smiled, and she slurped some of her tea.

The absurdity of it all finally got to Sumac, and the colt began laughing. He relaxed a little, slouched, and ceased trying to be so posh. His was a quiet laugh, it didn’t disturb the stillness of the kitchen, and he was able to relax a little after being around far too many ponies for far too long. Glancing down at Vinyl, he regretted her sudden departure, and then had to look away because her crossed eyes were far too silly to bear.

“It’s hard, when the house is full of ponies, isn’t it?” Octavia asked.

“Yes.” Sumac’s response was soft spoken, and he relaxed a bit more.

“There is nothing wrong with a little ‘me-time-tea-time.’ This is how you cope with having a large family, Sumac. Well, that and communication. Maud knows I needed a moment, which is why she took Pebble with her. Everypony is now elsewhere, doing other things, and I have the quiet time I need.”

“Am I bothering you?” Sumac asked, and he could not keep the fear and worry from his voice.

“Goodness, no.” One graceful eyebrow arched, and Octavia sighed. “It was quite amusing, what you did. I hope that… when I have my foal… that we shall be able to have quiet moments of laughter together. I don’t know what they’ll be like, but I have a lot of hopes.” After a moment she added, “I hope I am not a boring mother. A lot of ponies… they don’t get my humour. Vinyl does. Sometimes, Sumac, a quiet chuckle is more meaningful. More satisfying.”

“I get that… actually.” Sumac nodded, agreeing, and he continued to ignore the dead albino unicorn on the floor. “I like these times we have together. I think you’ll be a great mom.”

“Why, thank you, Sumac… that is very kind of you to say.”

Author's Note

We’re going to the movies!

Daring Do on the big screen...

Chapter 21

Betrayal was the worst of offenses, and the one that bothered Sumac the most. The scent of flowers was heavy in his nostrils, cloying, and he could feel the sleekness of his own pelt after being slathered down with far too much conditioner. This was the doing of one Trixie Lulamoon, who had scrubbed every single inch of him, sparing nothing, and slaying his dignity in much the same way a knight slew monsters. Even worse, she had laughed, taking amusement in his dolorous despair-driven distress.

Now, everypony was obsessed with how fluffy he was, and oh how he hated them all.

Even worse, his sulkiness was considered cute, and he had no adequate means to express his rage, his sense of betrayal, or his piqued vexation. And he had so much vexation to express. A waiting sneeze offered both torment and hope: it tickled something awful, but he hoped that his muzzle would become a mess of snot for some adult to clean up, should his face explode.

“Sumac, a bird might come by and poop on your lower lip if it sticks out any farther,” Lemon Hearts said to him while she smiled a sweet, somewhat teasing smile.

“How I despise you all,” he replied, speaking with slow care, drawing out the words as much as possible for dramatic effect.

Lemon, looking impressed, elbowed Twinkleshine in the ribs. “Check him out, he’s gone evil on us. Better tell Twilight to gather the Elements of Harmony.” Both mares began to snicker together, and when Sumac snorted in contempt, they laughed even harder.

It was then that things went from bad to worse. Limestone picked up Sumac, cradled him in her forelegs while she sat back on her haunches, and then she began to sniff him. The snuffles tickled, but Sumac was in no mood to laugh, and Limestone made exaggerated faces of sheer bliss. While he was being cuddled, Tarnish cleared his throat, stood up, and announced:

“We’re going out to a matinee today. That’s what I had planned. There is a showing of Daring Do and the Cultists of Collie Ma starting at twelve minutes after one o’clock. I already have the tickets for most of us, but I didn’t know we’d have extras. I’m sure everything will be fine though.”

“Tarnish… I hate to be that pony,” Octavia said, “but that has a recommended minimum viewing age of ten. Young adults and older.”

“Eh, Pebble and Sumac are like little adults trapped in tiny bodies—”

“That may be somewhat true, Tarnish, but still… I have some concerns.” Octavia paused when she realised that the entire room was looking at her, a terrible fate for an introvert to find themselves in. As dreadful as it was, Octavia somehow managed.

“I ran it by Trixie and she’s okay with it.” Tarnish glanced in Trixie’s direction for a moment, but she was distracted, as she was making a valiant effort to tie up Megara’s mane with a ribbon. “I asked Maud, and she was fine with it. I suppose I should have asked you as well, because you also have a say in what goes on with Pebble.”

“Why, thank you, Tarnish, that is quite gracious of you.” Octavia blinked, turned to look at Vinyl, who nodded, and then she relented. “I suppose everything will be just fine. They just seem… young, that’s all.”

“If anything too awful happens, we can cover their eyes.” Cloudy, a practical mare, gave Octavia a nod. “Most of the movie will probably be fine, with just a few scary bits.”

Her worried expression softening, Octavia seemed to agree, and then voiced her feelings. “Cloudy is right. There are always a few scenes that are there just for shock value, and the rest of the movie is mostly harmless. If somepony’s heart is about to be torn out of their barrel, I want little eyes covered.”

“Fair enough.” Tarnish bowed his head for a second, and when he lifted it once more, he was smiling. “With Sumac, it’ll be easy. We’ll just take away his glasses.”

Still being cuddled by an over-affectionate Limestone, Sumac made his feelings known with a raspberry, which was aimed at Tarnish. He was powerless, there was nothing he could do, and it galled him that she seemed to like how he smelled. It was awful, just awful, and if only there was a way he could contact Twilight Velvet, something could be done about this travesty.

“Somepony is so cute when they’re moody,” Limestone said, and she laid it on thick with the baby-talk. “Plus, you are so snuggly-wuggly soft!”

“Pebble, help me!”

“No.”

The list of betrayers grew ever-longer. This was a terrible position to be stuck in, and when Limestone’s nose pressed in just behind his ear, he made a feeble effort to squirm because of the tickle-tingles running up and down his spine. Even worse, he felt like giggling, and right now, he did not want to giggle. He wanted to be mad, to be sulky, he wanted revenge for having been made to take a bath with his mother.

“They’re so soft when they’re little,” Limestone murmured, and her words tickled Sumac’s ear. “So small, so soft, and so precious. Little hooves, little legs, cute little button noses, adorable little eyes, and soft, strokable tummies.”

“Limestone, do you want to have a foal?” Cloudy asked.

Sumac could feel Limestone’s embrace of him tighten, but nothing painful. Her breathing quickened, and he could feel her heart pounding now. In fact, he could hear it, or maybe he was imagining the sound. Each breath was hard and fast against the back of his ear, and tickled the back of his neck.

“There’s no shame in it.” It was Igneous who said these words. “Limestone, you’ve proven yourself. With nothing but your own savings, you’ve founded an empire for yourself. You make jobs for others. Your business acumen allowed you to survive this bad spell with Mister Mariner. These are different times, Limestone. Mares can be successful and be mothers. Just look at Maud.”

“Maybe later.” Limestone sounded hesitant, uncertain. “Maybe someday soon…”

Looking at Pinny Lane, it was easy to see where Tarnish got his build from, both were tall, lean, and lanky. That said, seeing Pebble with her grandmother, Pinny, there was something similar about the both of them, but Sumac—try as he might—could not figure out what it was. Pebble was short, compact, and solid, very much like the bowling balls that Pinny made her living with.

There was also the fact that Pebble was a different pony with her grandmothers around. Both of them. She acted one way with Pinny, and another way entirely with Cloudy. It was a complexity that fascinated Sumac, and he watched every move that Pebble made while she interacted with Pinny.

Pebble was telling Pinny everything she possibly could about Megara, and Pinny hung on every word that came out of her granddaughter’s mouth. Oblivious that others were talking about her, Megara watched as Boomer slept in the fireplace. She sat there, looking forlorn about the fact that her playmate was out of commission and napping. Every so often, she would let heave a sad-sounding sigh.

Octavia, Vinyl, and Cloudy were making up for time lost over tea, talking to one another in hushed voices. Well, Vinyl was being quiet, but she nodded or shook her head when appropriate. Cloudy kept reaching out to touch Octavia’s stomach, and the prim, grey earth pony did nothing to stop the older mare.

Igneous, sitting at the table, read the newspaper with an occasional, “Harrumph.”

“I gotta go, I have to put some hours in at Sugarcube Corner!” Pinkie Pie announced, and then, before anypony could reply or respond, she was gone, leaving behind a frosting-scented cloud in her wake.

Without lowering his newspaper, Igneous wickered, and then said, “I’m proud of that one.”

Sumac was getting ready to say something when a bright red ball bounced up against his leg. It rolled away just a little—but not much—and when he looked up in the direction the ball had come from, he saw Twinkleshine giving him an expectant stare. Most ponies couldn’t resist kicking a ball around, and Sumac was no different. The urge sprang up and he found himself in a playful mood.

Horn glowing, he made ready to send the ball back in Twinkleshine’s direction, but she stopped him with a grunt and a shake of her head. Lifting a leg, she made a kicking motion, and he understood the purpose of this exercise. When he lifted his own left foreleg, he wobbled a bit, and had to fight to keep himself upright. It felt good though, to fight, to struggle, to have a goal.

Flexing his leg a few times to get warmed up, he prepared himself for the kick. His leg was stiff from misuse, but the tightness seemed eager to go away. Focused on the ball, he was unaware that many adults had stopped what they were doing to watch him, and Pebble as well. There was also the fact that Sumac was unaware of his own smile.

When he felt ready, he gave the ball a mighty kick—and it rolled for about a yard and a half. Disheartened, he let out a sigh, shook his head, and then stared at the ball, feeling disappointed with himself. Twinkleshine knew just what to do though. She rose from her cushion, got up, lifted her cushion, marched across the kitchen, plopped her cushion down next to the ball, sat down, and smiled.

With a light tap, she sent the ball rolling back in Sumac’s direction.

Now, because Twinkleshine had accommodated him without humiliating him, he was invested in this moment. His elbow creaked a bit, but it felt good to move, and when he kicked the ball he felt only a slight pain travel up through his leg. Some unseen force rippled through the herd, and others moved to join the game, compelled by some silent prompting.

Trixie gave Twinkleshine a rough shove, and then planted herself down on the same cushion as the pearlescent mare. Looking disappointed, Lemon Hearts saw that there was no room for her, so she had to plant her cushion next to theirs and then sit as close as possible. There was something flirty about all three mares, but Sumac failed to notice it.

When the ball rolled across the floor once more, Megara’s attention was captured. She ceased pining away for her slumbering playmate, and focused her predatory gaze upon the rolling ball instead, her tail swishing behind her. Tarnish too, watched the ball rolling, and his gaze was no less predatory, though nopony seemed to notice or be put off. He put down the book he was reading and watched, his head moving from side to side with the motions of the ball.

The ball had become a herd-focus, and the need to be doing the same as everypony else was a siren song too powerful to resist, even for Igneous. The newspaper was folded, put down on the table, and he came over to sit down on a cushion that Lemon Hearts had been kind enough to levitate over for him. Now, he too, kicked the ball around.

Next to her husband, Maud too, was reading a book, and it was titled, Silent Leviathans: The Standing Stones of the Grittish Isles. As interesting and compelling as this book was, she pulled her muzzle out of its pages to watch the goings on the kitchen. For a moment, she glanced at her husband, and then, with a slow turn of her head, she returned her muzzle to where it belonged, buried in the pages of her book.

The clock on the mantle read ten forty-nine.

For Sumac, time had lost all meaning, because he never wanted this to end. This group of ponies, all of them, every last one of them, were family, a fact now cemented in his brain. He wasn’t aware that he had reached this conclusion down in the depths of his psyche—all he felt was a manifestation of profound happiness—and even if the moment couldn’t last forever, he wanted the emotions that he felt right now to persist.

When Twinkleshine leaned over, grabbed Lemon Hearts by the cheeks, and gave her a passionate kiss, the expected embarrassment wasn’t overwhelming, and he just sort of dealt with it. Sure, his cheeks turned red, and he felt kind of squirmy, and his ears grew hot, but none of this mattered because they too—like him—were happy. This was just something that happy ponies did.

Lemon Hearts, perhaps overtaken by love, ignored the ball when it came rolling close to her. She leaned in closer to Trixie and Twinkleshine, touched them both, and there was adoration in her eyes. Lemon’s love was palpable, and Sumac felt a tightness in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Whatever was about to happen next, he wanted to see it, to feel it, to experience it to its fullest.

“Trixie, Twinkle, this isn’t the moment I had planned, but it feels perfect nonetheless.” Lemon hesitated, blinking, and she now looked shy. Reaching out, she took Trixie’s hoof into hers, and then Twinkleshine’s. She gave both a squeeze, a little tug, and pulled them both a little bit closer. “Both of you… marry me, please? The Winter Moon Festival is coming, and I think that would be just perfect. We could spend the rest of our lives together and we could be happy… what do you say? Just three friends… spending our lives together… doing what is right for one another, and for little Sumac too. We stand a better chance together, dontcha say?”

The sting of tears was overwhelming, and Sumac waited for his mothers to reply…

Author's Note

No brakes as we approach this cliff!

Chapter 22

Leaning forwards, Trixie Lulamoon reached up with her hoof and she gestured at Lemon Hearts’ face while she replied, “Lemon, honey, you have something on your snoot.”

Going cross-eyed, the yellow mare tried to see what Trixie was pointing at while saying, “Do I? Way to ruin the moment, Miss Hearts.”

Just as Lemon finished what she had to say, Trixie leaned in, gave her a light kiss, and nodded. Lemon, realising that the kiss had been a yes, let out a soft squeal while her ears perked, and then she turned to look at Twinkleshine. The feeling of love, of affection, was palpable, and it seemed that everypony in the room was hanging on this moment.

Sumac most of all.

There seemed to be a delay and Twinkleshine just sat there, her breathing shallow, and she sat with one front hoof clutched to her barrel. All she could do was blink while turning her head to look at both Lemon and Trixie. When she became misty-eyed and her lower lip began to quiver, Sumac found it quite difficult to keep looking at her.

The clock on the mantle now read ten fifty-six.

“I couldn’t possibly miss this,” Twinkleshine managed to mutter, and then she was overcome.

A three-way hug happened, with Twinkleshine being the aggressive squeezer. She pulled both Lemon and Trixie in, and then the three unicorn mares bumped their head together, horns almost touching. While this in and of itself was a sight to see, something even more amazing happened: Lemon Heart’s cutie mark, her three little hearts, began to glow with a fierce light.

Sumac’s magic sense was overwhelmed and he began to feel light headed. Powerful magic was at work here—this was no simple spell being cast—and his vision slipped in and out of focus. The magic felt good, it thrummed through his body, and it soothed the pain in his neck. He felt so good, in fact, that it was not difficult at all to get off his cushion, get steadied on his legs, and then cross the short distance to where the three mares sat. He gave the ball a little kick while he passed—he couldn’t help himself—and he was grinning from ear to floppy ear.

It didn’t take long before he was sandwiched, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. He wasn’t even peeved about his earlier betrayal. All of life felt good, and he was happy. For little Sumac Apple, Hearth’s Warming had arrived early, and he had his heart’s desire. Not much else mattered at this moment.

Clearing his throat, Tarnish rose and said, “I’m going to fix lunch so we can eat before the matinee.”

Lunch was some kind of rice dish, and Sumac gobbled it down without even noticing what it was. All he knew was that there was a lot of it, and he was hungry. He was also moving better for some inexplicable reason, and he felt great. Everything felt so wonderful that he didn’t even notice Trixie, Lemon, and Twinkleshine making goo-goo eyes at one another, nor did he feel embarrassed about it.

“Everything tastes like potatoes,” Limestone said out of the blue.

Several ponies stopped eating, lifted their heads, and looked at her. Sumac, his mouth full of food, paused for a moment to listen to what Limestone had to say. Across from his daughter, Igneous waited, one eyebrow in a preemptive arch. Even Maud somehow looked attentive. As the seconds passed, Sumac began to wonder if everything really did taste like potatoes, as he couldn’t be certain. Lots of things didn’t taste like potatoes.

“Limestone?” Cloudy said to her daughter.

Wiping her muzzle with her foreleg, Limestone took a deep breath and then blurted out, “Whenever we eat something new, we say it tastes like potatoes. Think about it. Just think about how many times that is said by one pony to another. We’ll be eating something new and somepony will ask about the taste, and we’ll say it tastes like potato. Everything tastes like potato.”

“Potato chips taste like potato,” Igneous deadpanned.

Grunting with annoyance, Cloudy glared at her husband. “I’ll drag you outside, Igneous… see if I don’t!”

“I’m not getting this.” Octavia turned her head from side to side, looking somewhat confused. “If everything tastes like potatoes, I hadn’t noticed.”

Tarnish, who waved his spoon around, nodded in agreement. “Limestone is right. I just can’t say how she is right. But a lot of things do taste like potatoes.”

Megara let out a single confused meow, and then resumed eating her rice, licking it up with her long, rough, sandpapery tongue.

“This is bogus.” Pebble—with a snort of disgust—rolled her eyes and kept eating. “Aunt Motormouth is just messing with us all again.”

“Actually,” Pinny Lane began, “there might be some truth to this. Hayburgers, for example, use potato starch as a binding agent to hold everything together. So do a lot of other vegetable burger patties. A lot of processed convenience food that we eat has potato starch in it.”

“Aunt Motormouth was right, Pebby Poops!”

“Ugh! That doesn’t make you right, Limestain!”

Now, the two ponies were locked into a furious death-glare battle, with angry, twitching ears, ferocious expressions, bared teeth, and narrowed eyes. When Cloudy clopped her hoof against the table, the battle ended, but Limestone and Pebble continued to give one another baleful glances.

“They’re so adorable when they do this,” Maud deadpanned, and then she let out a sigh.

“I still remember the day I picked little Limestone out of the potato patch,” Igneous remarked, and the table went silent. “I pulled that little spud out of the dirt, washed her off, and brought her in the house. She only had eyes for her daddy.”

“Igneous.” Cloudy gave her husband a withering stare.

“All of a spudden—”

“Igneous…”

“—I was the luckiest father in the world—”

“Igneous!”

“ —until she reached tuberty—”

“Igneous, stop! There are foals present!”

“—and it was only then I realised my tuberis—”

“Igneous!”

“Daddy, it is time to abandon chip,” Maud deadpanned.

“Maudlin!” Cloudy turned her ire on her daughter. “That was awful!”

“Can a pony be incapacitatered by puns?”

“SUMAC APPLE!” Pebble’s face now had a bright reddish hue and she banged both front hooves upon the edge of the table.

Exerting the effort to shrug a bit, Sumac gave Pebble his reply: “Taters gonna tate.”

Leaning over a bit, Igneous looked at his granddaughter. “What’s the matter, Pebble? Feeling irrootatered?”

Saying nothing, the little chocolate brown filly glowered at her grandfather.

“Fry as I might, I can’t think of a good pun.” With a smug look plastered to his muzzle, Tarnish sat back and waited for the measurements on the rictus scale.

Twinkleshine, bouncing up and down in her chair, ignored the threatening looks of her two fiancées. “Game, set, and mash!” Then, her eyes glittering, she delighted in the groans coming in hard and fast from around the table. “We’re going to have a good time at the movies, I can peel it in my bones!”

“You know…”—Maud paused for a moment while she made a gesture with her hoof—“puns are only funny if I am the one making them. Otherwise, they annoy me. I hate them. I hate them so much. I wonder why that is.”

“For the same reason everything tastes like potatoes,” Limestone replied. “That’s just how life is!”

Outside, the day was beautiful and perfect. It was cold, crisp, the air had a way of invigourating all those whose lungs it filled. The skies were clear today, and the sun shone down upon all of the fresh-fallen snow, only to cause a glittering, dazzling, eye-blinding display. There was no hurry to rush to the theatre, as they had left early, and Sumac was free to enjoy both the sights and sounds of Ponyville in winter.

Megara remained close to her father, but was excited to be outside. She drew many stares, and many types of stares, but she seemed oblivious to the bad ones. Something that was almost a parade had formed, with Tarnish and Megara leading the way, and then a long line of ponies following after. As for Sumac himself, he was sitting on Twinkleshine’s back, and was enjoying the grand day out. Pebble, too short to deal with the deep powder, rode on Pinny’s back.

Tucked beneath Sumac’s poncho, Boomer slumbered and acted as a portable space heater.

Watching everything, Sumac was enraptured at what he saw around him. The long line of ponies held such remarkable variety; Igneous was broad and stocky, Tarnish was tall and lean, Vinyl was short and compact, and Pinny, Pinny was like her son, but feminine, and perhaps better described as willowy. Yet, for all of their differences, they were ponies. With the exception of Megara, of course, but Sumac didn’t let that stop him from his grand thoughts.

There was so much diversity here, not just as ponies, but as tribes. Okay, so there were no pegasus ponies present, but Megara did have wings. Every earth pony and every unicorn was different somehow. For the first time, Sumac took notice of the diversity of life, and he was enthralled.

“I wanna have foals with Pebble just so I can see what they look like.”

Twinkleshine came to such an abrupt halt that Sumac almost fell off when he was pitched forwards. Trixie stumbled, tripped over her own front legs, and went down face first into the snow. Lemon Hearts gasped and then just stood there with her mouth open. Cloudy crashed into her husband Igneous, who had come to a sudden stop. Limestone smacked into her mother’s backside, the place of her origin, and this caused Cloudy to be shoved into Igneous once more.

“Like right now?” Pebble demanded as Pinny too, almost fell over and wobbled on her long legs.

“No!” Sumac, realising what he had done, had no idea how to fix this mess.

“Well, I should hope not!” Cloudy cried while she tried to recover her dignity.

“I wanna do it later,” Sumac blurted out, and then with a growing sense of dread, he knew this had not helped him. “I mean… I mean… never mind what I mean!”

“Sumac Apple!” Pebble, now a much, much darker shade of brown, shook her head.

Sputtering, Trixie picked herself up out of the snow with Lemon’s help, and then, after turning about, she stood there, gazing at her son with a blank stare. She was joined by Octavia, who stood scowling, and Vinyl, who was shaking with silent laughter. Tarnish was avoiding the situation by refusing to turn around as he stared up at the blue sky.

“I got to looking at everypony and how different we all are and then I guess I thought about making foals with Pebble so we can see what they look like… I mean, I was curious about making foals with Pebble… I mean, not so much the making foals part, but more like what they would look like when I was finally done with her and we stopped making foals and she actually had them…” His words trailed off, he swallowed, hard, and then lapsed into silence while wondering if he could dig this hole any deeper.

“Son,” Igneous said while turned about, “there comes a point in every colt’s life when he could not possibly make things any worse, and then he somehow does. Congratulations, you’ve just experienced that milestone in your life.”

“Thanks, Igneous,” Sumac replied in a sheepish manner.

“Don’t mention it.” Igneous cleared his throat a bit and then asked, “So, do we swing by the courthouse to get these two hitched?”

“GRANDPA, NO!” Pebble buried her face in her hooves and almost fell from Pinny’s back.

“I think we should.” Igneous, looking quite serious, nodded. “This colt has a taste for Pie.”

Limestone, grimacing, chucked a snowball at her father, and hit him in the side. He ignored it, sighed a bit, and stood there, still nodding. Cloudy was now helping to brush the snow from Trixie. Twinkleshine had gone still, silent, and made no movement beneath Sumac. Lemon, who recovered from her initial shock, was now tittering, and this got her a dirty look from Trixie.

“At least he’s honest about his intentions,” Igneous said, unable to lay the issue to rest.

“Honest… Apple?” Sumac stammered, and he wondered if there was still a line left to cross.

“I am so embarrassed right now, I could just die.” Pebble pitched forwards and buried her face into her grandmother’s mane. “All of me burns… I can actually feel my skin burning, like a sunburn. It’s awful.”

“I think it is best if we just keep going, and pretend this never happened.” Tarnish did not turn around to check for consensus on his words, nor did he need to. He started walking, and the others, they started following. “So, who’s looking forward to the movie?”

Author's Note

Next chapter: dear old friends, together again.

Chapter 23

At the movie theatre, there was a bit of a crowd, but the long, long line of ponies that Sumac found himself in was a crowd unto itself. As his crowd approached that crowd, one pony broke away and begin to move towards Tarnish. Sumac watched, and something about the pony seemed familiar. She had a cloche hat, a heavy cloak, and glasses. There was something about her, but he couldn’t quite put his hoof on it. She was also a dark grey colour, and he realised that this was what was throwing him off.

He had met this pony before, in Canterlot, during the wedding. This was Miss Yearling.

“I didn’t think you’d make it,” Tarnish said in a low voice while the disguised pony approached. When she drew near, he bent his long neck, lowered his head, and kissed her cheek. When he started to pull away, she pulled him back in with her wings. “I missed you and I’ve been worried about you.”

“I wasn’t sure if I would make it.” After a moment, she added, “Where’s Rainbow?”

Vinyl, moving slow, finally made it to Tarnish’s side. In silence, she snoot bumped the disguised Miss Yearling, and Sumac wondered what was going on. He was confused, very much so, given how much Miss Yearling and Tarnish seemed to hate one another during the wedding. Down was up, up was down, and a smile had turned into a frown. Was that how the old saying went? Sumac wasn’t certain, and didn’t want to be distracted thinking about it.

“You two hated each other at the wedding,” Sumac said, not caring if he was ruining some big secret. Clearly, subterfuge was at work here, and he didn’t care. At all. Something about this bothered the colt, and he felt as though he had been lied to. Scowling, he gave them his best disapproving stare.

“It’s complicated—” Tarnish started to say.

“Mister Teapot and I are dear old friends.” The disguised Miss Yearling smiled at Sumac while standing neck to neck with Vinyl. “At the time, Mister Teapot and I were deep into a role that we both had to play and we kept up our seeming conflict to remain in practice and character.”

“Are you a spy?” Sumac asked.

“Oh goodness no,” Miss Yearling replied, and then she began to chuckle.

“That’s just what a spy would say.” Sumac’s eyes narrowed and beneath him, Twinkleshine began laughing. “You can’t fool me, I know what you are up to.”

“Actually, I have finished my acts of espionage, I just can’t get the dye out of my coat.” Miss Yearling’s chuckles turned into full blown laughter, but only for a moment, and then she calmed down to become her reserved self. “Feels good to be honest again.”

“I’m excited about the spring,” Tarnish said to Daring, and he did, indeed, look excited. There was almost a coltish level of exuberance to him, and his blue eyes were bright with happiness. “I mean, this is a little outside of my field of expertise, but I am just dying to expand my repertoire and fill my portfolio with new stuff.”

Confused, Sumac didn’t understand what any of this meant, it was a rare instance of grown up talk that he failed to comprehend. When Tarnish and Miss Yearling kept talking, he tuned it out after having lost interest. He looked over at Pebble, who was still sitting on her grandmother’s back, but she wasn’t interested in looking at him. In fact, she was outright ignoring him, and he understood why.

The little colt let out a sigh while suffering a moment of being down in the dumps.

“Hey!” Lemon Hearts shouted while pointing upwards. “Here comes Rainbow Dash!”

Before Sumac could even protest, he found himself stuffed into a seat with Pebble. The stocky filly helped to wedge him upright, and it was easier to sit up with her by his side. She was still trying to ignore him, and didn’t turn to look when Boomer clambered up onto his horn. Sumac knew that he had somehow injured her feminine sensibilities, but he didn’t know how to make things better. It seemed that trying to fix it would only make things worse.

In the row of seats behind him, Tarnish, Miss Yearling, and Rainbow Dash were chatting in low voices, and Vinyl was silent. Sumac wondered why, and maybe it might have been because Vinyl was enjoying keeping a secret from Miss Yearling. He had no way of knowing. To his left was his mother, Trixie, to his right was Pebble, and on the other side of Pebble was Pinny.

Sumac wondered if their horns would get in the way of the ponies watching behind them.

“Are you mad, Pebble?”

“No.” Her voice revealed nothing.

“You seem upset.”

She turned away and Sumac felt his throat go tight.

“I’m really sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” Pebble said, still looking away. “Things are just… weird… right now.”

“Are they?” Sumac realised after saying it that this was not the right thing to say.

“Yeah. They are.” Pebble was still looking away.

“I was thinking—”

“Yes you were. You were thinking about doing gross, weird things to me. That’s where our friendship is going, isn’t it?” Pebble turned around to look at Sumac, and even in the dim light of the theatre, it was possible to see that her eyes were misty. “Things are going to be complicated now, because I’ll never be able to stop thinking about the things you want to do to me.”

When Sumac felt a hoof touch him, he almost jumped out of his skin. It took a moment in his panic to realise that his mother was rubbing him, trying to ease him through this moment. Sumac, overwhelmed and overcome, experienced a sort of awakening, a realisation involving gender, but it was too much for his mind to grasp.

“Why do you have to make everything complicated?” Sumac demanded, and much to his embarrassment, his voice cracked. That was the worst. Now squeaky, he kept going: “I just want to be your friend… I just wanted to l-lo-like you”—stammering, he found it difficult to keep going—“I just want to be your friend but you always have to make everything so complicated! Is it because you are a filly or because you are a braniac?”

Eyes narrowing, Pebble’s face lost all expression for a moment, but the stony mask cracked and she looked… angry. “Me being a filly has nothing to do with it. One of us has to think ahead and plan, and it certainly isn’t you!”

“I was thinking ahead.” Sumac, almost sputtering, leaned back and away from Pebble. “That’s what caused this to happen.”

Ears splaying back, Pebble did not reply, but kept staring while making angry little snorts.

“Ah, good, the Pebble-realises-she-is-wrong-phase.” Pinny Lane, leaning her head down, gave her granddaughter a gentle nudge. “I think this is one of those moments that Twilight might call a friendship lesson. The two of you have had your squabble, now make up and get it over with.”

“Yeah,” Trixie said while she prodded her son with her hoof. “Now get with the make up smooches.”

“Mom!”

“Ugh, no!”

Trixie had herself a self-satisfied chuckle while she continued to prod Sumac.

“What he said made me feel weird.” Pebble folded her front legs over her barrel and her ears pitched forwards. “I was really embarrassed and I didn’t like it.”

“Pebble, little fillies and little colts have some differences. That can’t be avoided.” Pinny sighed, lifted her head, and turning her head to one side, cracked her neck. She made a face for a moment while easing the crick out of her neck, and then she smiled. “It’ll be okay, Pebble, I promise.”

“No, it won’t.” Pebble’s head swiveled around to look at her grandmother. “I’m fat and gross. Parts of me get sweaty and smell. And what he said made me think about all of that and having to deal with it and having him see me and I don’t want to be seen and then I started to panic and I—”

“Hush,” Pinny said as she placed one hoof over Pebble’s mouth, and the little filly went quiet. “When the movie is over, and we’re home again, you and I, we’ll have tea, and we’ll talk about this, okay? And maybe we’ll get a few more mares and we’ll all talk and we’ll find a way to make this better, okay?”

When Pinny’s hoof was pulled away, Pebble nodded and replied, “Okay.”

“I didn’t know I made you scared about that stuff,” Sumac whispered.

“Well, you did,” Pebble whispered back, and her voice sounded every bit as strained and squeaky as the colt beside her did. “If you saw how fat and I gross I was, you wouldn’t like me.”

“Yes I would—”

“No. You wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. You’d barf.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Oh yes you would.”

“I’m gonna go get some chewy taffy candies to keep your little mouths busy,” Trixie announced. “Hopefully I’ll be back before the movie starts. Now shuddup, both of you!”

Tinny music blared as the screen flickered to life. Sumac, chewing on a piece of sour cherry candy, struggled with the drool flooding his mouth and the achy feeling in his cheeks. He was almost certain that his mother had returned with super sour taffy to punish him and Pebble. Beside him, she gnawed away, and he was aware of her furtive glances in his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Daring Do and the Cult of Collie Ma!

Sumac, entranced, watched the words scroll upwards on the screen, and the bright, vivid colours dazzled his eyes. The clack of the projector was a muted background sound, buried beneath the tinny, shrill music and the sound of Pebble chewing and slurping next to his ear was almost the only thing he could hear.

Wincing, Sumac saw with much dismay that the pegasus playing Daring Do was a bright, eye-searing yellow. Something seemed off with her, and the little colt scowled. The pegasus mare playing Daring Do was wearing heavy mascara, eye shadow, and bright red lipstick. Right then and there, Sumac decided that he didn’t like her. Not at all. Not one bit.

Daring Do had a companion, a big, no, enormous hulking brute of a unicorn, a pale, weak brown in colour, with huge, rippling, sweaty looking muscles. For a moment, Sumac was so in shock from what he saw that his mouth fell open, causing a copious flood of drool from his sour taffy to run down his chin and onto his poncho.

Worst of all was Crown Agent Crash. A nerdy, timid bookworm that followed along after the two eye candy leads, looking pusillanimous and fearful. She had glasses and everything had been done to make her look as dorky as possible. Sumac, shocked, stunned, was about to say something, but—

“BOO!” Rainbow Dash cried from behind him. “Movie-me sucks!”

“Did I… did I get stung by a bee?” Tarnish asked in a low whisper from where he sat just behind Sumac.

Sumac watched as the camera pulled out, revealing a wide shot where the trio was about to enter a sleazy looking bar. He was too excited to remember how this played out in the book, but he knew that they were on the trail of some gemstone, and now it was a matter of Crown Agent Cocoa cracking skulls until he got what he wanted.

The door slammed open after Cocoa kicked it, and the big brute was the first to go inside. Beyond the door, the bar was filled with sleazy, shifty looking characters, all of them dirty and none of them as pretty as the heros. Cocoa pulled his whip, allowed it to uncoil, and the length fell to the floor.

“No way!” Rainbow cried in a loud whisper. “That only comes out after somepony does something stupid!”

“Shut up, Rainbow!”

“I’m looking for Admiral Banks,” Crown Agent Cocoa said in a booming baritone. “Admiral Cloud Banks. Where is he?”

“He’s not here,” a shifty looking pony replied, and the camera began a slow zoom.

“Do you think the fight between Banks and I can be shown in this film?” the real Tarnish asked.

“You shoved him into an airship propeller,” Daring snapped in a low whisper.

“No I didn’t!” Tarnish retorted. “You need to stop saying that, he tripped—”

“Your whip was tangled around his legs!”

“He punched you in the mouth!”

“Shut up, all of you!” Cloudy commanded.

“I’m here to cause a bad day,” Crown Agent Cocoa rumbled while he menaced the dirty looking mob with his whip.

Something about that line was off, but Sumac was too over-stimulated to figure out what it was. The sourness of the taffy, his little spat with Pebble, the sound of the music, the glow of the screen, everything being said around him, and the warm, pleasant feeling of Pebble sitting beside him. With a sigh, he allowed himself to collapse against her, finding her a soft, comfortable place to rest.

She was perfect.

Author's Note

The movie continues...

Chapter 24

Crown Agent Crash moved into the den of hooligans, adjusted her glasses, and then in a voice filled with strange confidence she announced the following: “Now you must learn the science of my hoof-fu.” After that, the most amazing thing happened, and Crown Agent Crash exploded on screen. Everypony was hoof-fu fighting and she flew around the room like a hurricane of plot-kicking; a flurry of hooves that dislodged teeth and snapped limbs like matchsticks.

The science of hoof-fu was powerful and horrendous. Faces were left crooked and broken. Teeth shattered like glass. Limbs were left in twisted, unnatural positions. Crown Agent Crash seemed untouchable as she bounced around the room. The worst were the nutshots, and several enemies had the misfortune of somehow standing bipedal for a clear punch or kick to the stones.

Sumac winced, feeling sympathetic pain.

One bad guy, after being punched in the junk, coughed up two walnuts and spat them out on the floor. Sumac laughed—he couldn’t help it—and behind him, he could hear more laughter. Beside him, Pebble was shaking her head from side to side, and he couldn’t tell if she was enjoying herself at the moment. The sound of Lemon’s laughter stood out and Sumac’s ears perked. If Lemon could laugh at the walnuts, well, then it must be okay.

It was quite a way to start an adventure.

Windia was a terrible, horrible, no good, backwards place on some far forgotten end of the world. At least, the movie made it seem that way. The Grittish had somehow made everything worse, though the movie did not make it clear how this had happened. Almost everything seemed to be either slums or jungle, and the jungle was filled with old temples, ancient old structures, a reminder of what had once been a long time ago.

In what just had to be a flying pegasus pan shot, the camera soared, rising upwards, showing more and more of the jungle, and in the edge of the shot, figures could be seen. The camera zoomed in, a smooth, steady shot that no doubt showed remarkable flying skills, and the tiny figures grew in size and detail.

“Oh come on!” Tarnish shouted. “That’s not an army! There’s like what, ten of them? I had hundreds of cultists chase me through the jungle!”

On screen, the cultists of Collie Ma jogged after Crown Agent Cocoa at a leisurely pace, and the muscle bound unicorn outpaced them in a dignified, sweeping shot that revealed his hunky, muscular plot swaying from side to side. Crown Agent Cocoa wasn’t even sweating somehow, but the cultist dogs were panting. Something didn’t quite seem right about all of this as Sumac watched the scene play out.

The scene dissolved, fading away from Cocoa and his slow stroll, and when the film came back into focus, it showed Daring Do and Crash sitting at a table, sipping on drinks that had little paper umbrellas in them. They were talking to some professor type with thick glasses, who kept pointing to a map with his hoof.

“Professor Link, thank you for telling us the location of the diamond dog clan De Stein.” On screen Daring Do gave the professor a sultry look of thanks.

“Clan De Stein has been a hidden menace for quite some time,” Professor Link replied.

“That’s not how we got that information,” Rainbow said in quite a loud whisper. “Daring held him in a headlock and I punched him in the gut till he gave up the goods—”

“Rainbow Dash, you crotch-jockey, you punched him right in the twig and berries!”

“You can’t prove that I did that on purpose, he was squirming!”

“Be quiet!” Cloudy’s voice was shrill and grating with annoyance. “Some ponies, I swear!”

On screen, Daring Do was still being rather seductive, and Sumac began squirming in his seat just a bit, as watching her made him feel funny. She was doing stuff, stuff with her lips and her eyes, and watching it made him feel itchy in weird places, like he needed to rub himself. Something within him had awoken, and he felt too warm.

“Oh boo! Why would I try to seduce him!” Miss Yearling shouted, and popcorn was thrown at the screen. “He tortured Rainbow and I and sicced wild monkeys on us!”

“Monkeys with mind control helmets!” Rainbow added.

“You know, I don’t feel quite so angry with Tarnish over what he did to Professor Link,” Miss Yearling remarked. “Tarnish was right… this is something to look back upon and laugh about.” Then, when Miss Yearling began guffawing, both Tarnish and Rainbow joined her.

“Tarnish… Tarnish… he stole the monkey mind control rod!” Rainbow wheezed, somehow sputtering out the words while she howled with laughter.

“Oh, shut up! All of you!” Now it was Octavia who was annoyed. “Some of us are trying to watch a movie!”

“And some of us lived it,” Tarnish replied. “I was lectured for hours because of what I did with the monkey mind control rod.”

“Vinyl Scratch, you are never leaving home again!”

“I feel funny between my legs,” Sumac whispered, too embarrassed to raise his voice. “Like I need to pee, or something.”

“Sumac?” Trixie had apparently heard him, and she leaned over. “You okay?”

“I think I need to go to the bathroom… Mom, something really weird is happening!”

The mare’s restroom had an eye-watering reek of disinfectant, and Trixie Lulamoon stared at the wall, almost unblinking, looking everywhere but at her son. Sumac sat on the toilet, squirming a bit, shaking, and red faced. No doubt, she was red faced as well, and she didn’t know what to say. She wished that Lemon was here, because Lemon would know what to do.

“Look, Sumac, these things… they happen.”

Squirming, clenching his hind legs together, the colt looked down at the floor in shame. His ears drooped and everything about him radiated misery while he sat there, shivering. Trixie realised how much worse it must feel for Sumac to be in the mare’s restroom, as he was getting older, and of course, there was the matter of what had just happened.

“You carried me through the lobby—”

“Look, Sumac, I didn’t know it… that… Trixie didn’t know it was happening and she is very, very sorry, okay?” The restroom stall seemed far too small and cramped now, and she was uncomfortable being this close to her son, given what was going on. She wanted to be far, far away, but she also wanted to comfort him during his moment of distress. “This has never happened before, has it?”

“No!” Sumac’s response was petulant and sulky.

Trixie found that she could not blame him. She stared at the graffiti written on the tile, but did not register the words written there. She wanted to tell him that this moment would pass, but the words were lodged in her throat. It was too painful to tell him that everything would be okay and that she still loved him, because right now, she couldn’t even hug him, even though he was in need of one.

This might just be the low point of her motherhood, Trixie realised, and it hurt.

Trixie, being rather focused upon herself, didn’t think about the fact that every mother of a little colt had to endure this moment at some point. She didn’t connect to the struggle of others. No, she could only think of herself and how awkward it was right now, standing in a bathroom stall with Sumac while he suffered from an involuntary reaction—something she didn’t want to think about or acknowledge.

He was her sweet, innocent snuggle-buddy, and this complicated things.

What would Lemon do? Her throat tight, Trixie tried to salvage the situation. “Okay, this is gonna be hard, but can you tell me what happened? I mean, the moment that, well, you know…”

“I don’t know.” Sumac’s voice was little more than a shamed murmur. “It got really bad when I could see her lips moving and her tongue and then there was a moment where I could see down her throat and then everything got awful and I couldn’t sit still.”

“I see.” Turning her head, she now faced the stall wall and tried not to think about the fact that her son had just experienced his first real arousal because he had stared down a mare’s throat. She didn’t want to think about the analogue it represented or what it had awoken in her son’s mind. It was troubling, to say the very least.

Was this normal? Was this natural? Trixie, being the way she was, had no idea how to deal with this, this notion that her son had been attracted to a mare’s open mouth. She wondered if this would be easier to deal with if Sumac had been set off staring at a mare’s backside. That, at least, felt more normal, more natural.

“Feeling better yet?”

“No.” Sumac did not look up from the floor and Trixie did not turn to look at him.

“Oh my.” Trixie took a deep breath. She wished that Lemon was here, not just because Sumac needed her, but Trixie knew that she needed her. When the sound of another mare could be heard a few stalls over, she cringed and didn’t want to think about it. Nopony had warned her of this. Twilight Velvet had said nothing about this torturous experience. Nothing she had ever experienced had prepared her for this moment, this test of motherhood.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look at Sumac. Reaching out one hoof, she placed it beneath his chin, lifted his head, and looked into his eyes, peering over the top edge of his glasses. She saw pain, and a reflection of herself. There was a moment of agonising panic when she thought about how Sumac might be looking at her mouth. Steeling her nerves, she made herself continue, pushing past the pain, the difficulty, and the flood of emotions.

“Sumac, everything is going to be just fine, and we’ll get through this…”

When he was plopped back into the seat beside Pebble, Sumac had a whole new awareness of his fillyfriend. Wrapped in his poncho, he still felt too hot, while also feeling somewhat chilly. He was a bit sweaty, perhaps a bit clammy, and Pebble was almost too warm to bear. He did his best to sit still—it wasn’t hard, given his condition—and in a strange, inexplicable way, he was thankful to be back with Pebble, even though he wanted to be far, far away from her.

He was all too glad to lose himself in the movie once more, and he stared up at the screen, his eyes wide behind his glasses, wondering what he had missed. How long had he and Trixie been gone? It was a thought that he pushed from his mind, because it was better not to think about it. Anything was better than thinking about it.

Pebble had pretty lips and he struggled not to think about them.

On the screen there was a riot of oversaturated colour. The sound of jungle cats growling, monkeys shrieking, and cobras hissing could be heard. There was too much going on all at once to keep track of, and in the row behind him, there was non-stop laughter. Agent Cocoa was having a fight with a jungle tiger, and winning. The movie had to be exaggerating again. Tarnish couldn’t punch and kick a tiger into submission, could he?

Agent Cocoa stomped the tiger right in the crotch, and it began to whimper as it curled into a ball, defeated. The theatre was filled with pained gasps, and once more, Sumac found himself squeezing his hind legs together, but this time for a different reason. Then, with the tiger defeated, Crown Agent Cocoa advanced upon a surprised Doctor Caballeron while scary, psycho stalker music began to play.

What happened next was a short chase through the quarry, and then when Cocoa caught Caballeron, there was a fight. The evil doctor was beaten like a piñata, but this beat down wasn’t played for comedy. Slow motion and dramatic zooms showed the savage ferocity of the beating that Caballeron endured. Teeth flew. Cringing, Sumac reminded himself that this was a movie, and that this probably hadn’t happened.

When Caballeron was beaten into helplessness, Cocoa hurled him into crocodile infested waters, where the evil doctor was pulled down into the depths and vanished from view. Sumac felt a little queasy, as this was just awful, and he was glad that Tarnish wasn’t the sort of pony that would really, actually do this.

Without even thinking about it, he scooted closer to Pebble, needing to feel her against him, and he shivered. On the screen, Daring Do was fighting Admiral Banks in a no-holds-barred slugfest and she had just been punched in the mouth, leaving her lip with a slight tear. The scary, psycho stalker music was still playing, screechy violins that made all of the hair along Sumac’s spine stand up.

“Daddy does bad things when he’s angry.” Pebble breathed out the words, and she too, now clung to Sumac.

Crown Agent Crash had been netted and was enduring a savage beating with clubs on the deck of an airship. Sumac winced with each blow, as it all looked and sounded far too real. On the ground, Daring Do was fighting for her life against Admiral Banks. Agent Cocoa, covered in blood from fighting a jungle tiger, covered in bruises from many fights, and bleeding from his behind because he had been shot, now made his slow advance on Admiral Banks.

The screechy, almost painful music intensified when Cocoa unfurled his whip. Admiral Banks had just been punched in the guts by Daring Do, and he staggered back, close, too close to the spinning blades of the airship. The camera had a wide angle view that showed everything in horrifying detail, from the terrific beating of Agent Crash on the deck to the continued advance of Agent Cocoa on the ground.

The tension was almost too much to bear and Sumac jammed a hoof into his mouth.

Pebble twisted in her seat so she could wrap her forelegs around Sumac and Boomer darted beneath his poncho to hide. Admiral Banks and Daring Do were punching each other, savage, brutal blows made in rapid exchange. The whip drew back, Cocoa said some very naughty words, and then the whip lashed out. Daring Do dodged, but Admiral Banks wasn’t so lucky. Agent Cocoa gave a yank on his whip and—

Sumac’s eyes were covered, but not his ears. There was an awful sound, a sound that could not be described, and screaming. His mother’s forelegs pressed his glasses against his face in a somewhat uncomfortable way and then he heard Agent Cocoa’s baritone rumble say: “Hang on, Daring, I have to go rescue Crash.”

When the credits began to roll, Sumac was exhausted from his experience, but ecstatic. The film was amazing, absolutely amazing, even though he had missed parts of it, including Admiral Banks falling into the propeller. He was too jittery to sit still and his body jerked with feeble movement.

“Tarnish,” Pinny asked while she turned around to look at her son. “Did you really rescue Daring and Rainbow, or was that just the movie trying to fluff up the male lead?”

“That part was real,” Miss Yearling answered in a low voice. “I was quite outmatched by Banks, he was a career soldier and better than I in combat by far. Rainbow was actually netted, and it was quite effective. Your son somehow held himself together through his injuries and saved us both.”

Pinny gave a solemn nod.

“Did you really fight a tiger?” Sumac asked.

“Yes.” Tarnish grinned.

“When we go home, can you tell us how it really happened?” Sumac was almost vibrating in his seat.

“Sumac, no… no… I’ll fight a tiger if I have to, but I’m not risking making your mothers angry with me.”

Disappointed, Sumac did the only thing a colt his age could do: “Awww…”

Author's Note

Dear old friends... say goodbye.

Chapter 25

The exciting, confusing, and wonderful day now felt sad. Outside of the movie theatre, sitting on Twinkleshine’s back, Sumac Apple watched as four steadfast friends gathered to say goodbye. For surely this was a goodbye, what else could it be? Before it even happened it felt like a goodbye, as a profound sensation of sadness settled over everything like a shroud.

Craning his head—it was a mighty struggle to do so but he was motivated—Sumac tried to see what was happening. He idolised these ponies, all of them. Daring Do, Rainbow Dash, Tarnished Teapot, and Vinyl Scratch. To see them looking so down in the dumps after being so happy together made Sumac’s heart feel as though it might shatter into a million pieces.

“Did you bring one?” Daring Do asked of Rainbow Dash.

“Uh-huh.” Rainbow nodded and her hooves shuffled in the snow. This was a rare moment of her being down on the ground, and she stood close to her friends. “Do we actually want to eat this awful thing?”

“Every year you ask that same question.” Tarnish, standing tall, appeared to be standing in a protective, some might even say possessive stance. There was something confident about him in this moment, at this time, and maybe even a little something about him that was scary. “And every year, we do.”

Vinyl pulled something out from the pocket of Rainbow Dash’ flight jacket and Sumac saw foil glinting in the sun. The white flash was blinding, almost painful, and he squinted so he could see better. Vinyl was opening it, tearing the foil, and all four friends looked… disgusted? He struggled to see what it was, what the big deal was, and when Vinyl shivered, he suspected it wasn’t from the cold.

Something, whatever it was, was broken into four pieces and each piece was given to a companion. Maud moved a little closer, sniffing, and then she backed away, shaking her head. Did it smell bad? Sumac was filled with so many questions, but he remained quiet, not wishing to disturb the solemn moment. The sound of his own breathing was almost too loud in his own ears while he watched them eating.

“Our friendship stopped the world from ending,” Daring Do said around a mouthful of food. “I think about that often.”

“Oh, I did that with Twilight and my other friends.” Rainbow swallowed, licked her lips, and then added, “I have really amazing friends. All of them keep saving the world. And I have to keep saving them, because I am the most awesome pony alive.”

“Well, there is no denying that.” Tarnish shuddered and shook, then made a disgusted face. “Ugh, those bars are awful. I swear, every year, they get worse somehow.”

“Every year at just about this time, I still get contacted by Princess Celestia and she offers to make me the Alicorn of Adventure.” Daring Do shuffled up a little closer to her clustered friends, her face filled with sad and regretful lines. “Every year, I refuse her. This year, I will do the same. Rainbow Dash…”

“Yes?” Blinking, Rainbow’s rosy eyes twinkled in the winter sunlight.

“Does it ever bother you that Twilight received the recognition and became a princess? Or myself? As you just stated, your various groups of friends keep saving the world, and I cannot help but wonder, do you feel overlooked?” Daring Do looked into Rainbow’s eyes and Sumac could see a profound sense of… worry? Concern? Something like sadness?

“I’m just not responsible enough for something like that,” Rainbow replied, and her muzzle scrunched. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from being in the Wonderbolts… it is that I am at my best when I am helping others to succeed. It is part of what makes me awesome. I lift others up and I motivate them to be the very best ponies they can be. I’ll let my track record speak for itself.”

“Well, it certainly can’t be argued.” Daring Do started to smile, but it faltered. “I must be going. Already, I have tarried for far too long.”

“Daring, don’t go… come home with me and stay for a while—”

“Oh gosh, we do this every year.” Rainbow’s words cut off Tarnish and she gave him an apologetic nudge on the leg while looking at Daring Do. “You know, I think he’s sweet on you, Daring. If you ever go home with him, I think you’ll become a member of the family.”

“Oh, I am already part of the family.” Daring Do began to chuckle, but her eyes were sad. “Stiff upper lip, Tarnish. I have much work to do before the spring.” Turning her head, she looked over at Maud Pie, who stood a short distance away. “I trust that you will keep our agreement, Maud.”

“Of course,” Maud replied in deadpan. “I have no problem making Tarnish walk the straight and narrow.” After a moment, she had something more to say. “Come home with us… even if it just for a little while. Can’t you just settle down and stay for just a short time?”

“Already, I have stayed too long.” Daring’s words were sad and she let out a long wistful sigh. “Farewell, old friends. I must be going.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Tarnish’s tone was one of almost foalish pleading.

Vinyl, in silence, wrapped a foreleg around Daring’s neck in a fierce hug. She squeezed for a moment, her whole body trembling, and it wasn’t long until Rainbow joined, embracing both of them. Rainbow’s cheeks were slick, shiny with tears that glinted like glittering diamonds in the dazzling winter sunlight. Tarnish too, joined the embrace, and then Sumac’s vision blurred over so much that he couldn’t see. Not wanting to cry, his eyes stinging in the cold air, the colt buried his face into Twinkleshine’s pastel pink mane and did his best not to blubber because he didn’t want to be a sissy.

“Goodbye, dear old friends…”

It was, perhaps, the worst part of friendship: friends had to say goodbye. Sumac, given over to introspection, thought about this while the herd walked home together. Saying goodbye to Pebble at the end of the day was painful enough, even though he knew that he would see her again. Having settled down in place, having lived in one spot, Sumac couldn’t imagine going back to his old life, going from place to place, shore to shore, city to village, never staying long enough in one spot for goodbyes to become meaningful.

At the moment, the film was forgotten, the excitement, the sense of adventure, all of the thrills and titillation that he had experienced, all of it was washed away by witnessing the goodbyes exchanged by four fast friends. It was real and therefore, it had meaning. The movie? Not real and to Sumac, it was meaningless.

Yawning, Boomer blinked her eyes and clung to Sumac’s neck. She was a warm scaly thing that tickled him, but the little colt wasn’t in the mood to laugh. In a smoky, chirpy voice she asked, “Why sad? Why?”

“Saying goodbyes, Boomer,” he replied.

“Why sad? Why?” Boomer’s tiny claws prickled against Sumac’s neck and she wriggled beneath the poncho. “Why goodbye sad?”

“It just is.” Sumac didn’t know how to explain it in a way that Boomer could understand it, and in realising this, he came to the conclusion that, perhaps, he didn’t understand it. “Boomer, imagine if you left us and you never saw us again… all of us… your family—”

Sumac was cut off by a shrill honk, followed by the alarming sensation of Boomer thrashing against his soft, vulnerable flesh. Her claws did more than tickle, they pierced his skin while she gripped him, clinging to him in desperation, and then came a continuous stream of steady, heartbreaking smoky honks. It was awful.

“Sumac, what happened?” Lemon Hearts asked as she trotted into place beside Twinkleshine. “Boomer, talk to me… what’s wrong? Sumac?”

“She asked me what was sad about goodbyes and I didn’t know myself and I was busy thinking about stuff and to help her understand I told her to imagine if she never saw us again and she freaked out and now she is slicing my neck!”

With a fretful frown, Lemon Hearts peeled Boomer from Sumac’s neck, revealing tiny, bloodied claws that had pale, cream coloured hairs clinging to them. The little dragoness shot out tiny puffs of smoke with each blaring honk and when Sumac was able to get a better look at her, he could see tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. Up to this point, he had been unaware that she even had tear ducts, as she always licked her eyes to moisten them, which was really gross.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Lemon Hearts said while she held Boomer suspended in her magic. The dragoness was now curled up into a miserable ball and each sob produced an ear piercing blast of sound. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“That’s an infant crying.” Cloudy pulled up alongside Lemon Hearts, who was beside Twinkleshine. “There’s no fixing this, no magic words to make this better. She’ll cry it out and then she’ll need cuddles, I suppose. Poor thing, she can’t be that much different than us.”

“I feel bad for what I did.” Miserable, Sumac watched and listened while Boomer bawled, and he had never seen her like this. Blood trickled down his neck and began to scab as it soaked into his pelt. “I was just trying to help her understand… I don’t even understand… goodbyes are awful and I—” Unable to keep it in, Sumac was cut off by his own whooping sob, which hurt a great deal as it clawed its way up his throat and tore free from his mouth.

“This is shaping up to be one of those sorts of days.” Lemon Hearts resigned herself to maternal duties with a sigh and she walked with Boomer held inches in front of her snoot. “I don’t know what happened in the theatre, Trixie won’t tell me and when I asked she just started to blush and she stammered a bunch—”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Trixie cried from her place in the line, and she kept her head low to the snow while she walked. “Trixie is unable to provide assistance at this time, please move along and ignore the disgruntled showmare.”

“The center does not hold, Lemon.” Twinkleshine slowed her pace a bit so she wouldn’t jostle Sumac quite so much. “Gosh, it’s like it is raining or something, I can feel my back flooding.”

“Twinkle, now is not the time for funny,” Lemon snapped. “How does this happen? We were having such a perfect day!”

“This is life,” Cloudy responded, and she nudged Lemon with a full body bump in an effort of trying to reassure her. “You really can’t control it, the best you can do is endure it. Having a good mate helps”—while saying this, the wise mare glanced in her husband’s direction—“but ultimately your only real option is to be patient. Marble was the little soft one and she could go from laughing to sobbing and then back to laughing in the span of mere minutes. Maud was a good, quiet filly, Pinkie was quiet for a time before she had her change, Limestone talked my ears off and gave me migraines, but it was Marble that taught me how to be patient. There were days where I wanted to throttle her because I’d get so frustrated by her sudden change of moods, and me getting angry only made the problem worse. Even if I didn’t show it, she picked up on it and the tears would come in a flood.”

“Yep!” Limestone nodded her head.

“Throttle?” Lemon squeaked out the word and her eyes were wide with shock.

“Yes, at some point, every mother has a moment where they have reached their breaking point. The ones that claim they haven’t wished to smother their own young are liars, plain and simple.” Cloudy’s eyes narrowed. “It’s okay to feel that way, but how you handle it determines your integrity and character as a mare. You can reach a point where you are so frustrated and worn down that you think all sorts of crazy thoughts… Limestone had colic that lasted for a good three months without relenting and I got worn thin, let me tell you. I endured.”

Laughing, Limestone began to tell a story: “Marble once cried for hours because a butterfly landed on her nose. Mama couldn’t get her to stop, she just kept crying, and finally, Mama lost her patience and left Marble to just cry it out while Mama went into the kitchen to pound dough. The whole house rattled because Mama was—”

“Limestone!” Cloudy’s nostrils flared and she shook her head in disapproval of her daughter’s tale.

“—hitting and punching the dough so hard. So Daddy comes in because he hears Marble wailing her lungs out and he sits down with her and starts talking to her and he finally gets her to say something. She tells him it was pretty… the butterfly was pretty and then she cried so hard that she threw up on Daddy. Pinkie Pie watched it happen and then she blew chunks too, all over Daddy and Marble. Maud wasn’t having any of it and she snatched up Boulder and ran away for a few hours until the stink cleared and I laughed so hard that I ended up puking all over the floor too and Pinkie threw up in my mane and it got in my eye. True story!”

“Motormouth!” Igneous gave his daughter a flinty glare and he too, shook his head.

Lemon Hearts let out a terrified bleating sound, she trembled, but had nothing to say.

Author's Note

Those moments of friends and family bonding together.

Chapter 26

“No! I don’t wanna!” Squirming, or at least doing his best to squirm, Sumac believed that he was quite justified with his whining. He didn’t want to be in the close confines of a bathroom again having his personal space invaded, nor did he want the scratches on his neck cleaned with iodine. Having reached his sensory threshold for the day, Sumac was done and nearing his breaking point. He was in dire need of peace and quiet, and perhaps a nap as well, although he would rather pitch a tantrum than admit to that fact.

Twinkleshine, left to perform parental duties after Lemon had disappeared with Trixie, did her best to deal with the sulky colt. “Come on, Sumac, be grown up about this—”

“I’m five!” he hollered out in protest of Twinkleshine’s outrageous request.

In a rare moment of impatience from having her grand day ruined, Twinkleshine lost her temper and slipped into a rather foalish state of mind herself. “Could have fooled me, you’re acting like you’re two!” No longer willing to coax Sumac into cooperating, she grabbed him, lifted him from the couch where he sat, and started to haul him off to the bathroom.

Sumac wasn’t having it and the poor colt reached the ends of his endurance. With a sob, the lurking tantrum escaped and began to wreak havoc. The first thing it did upon taking control of Sumac was try to put Twinkleshine in her place with a massive discharge of static. With a pained cry, Twinkleshine’s magic fizzled out and Sumac tumbled to the floor, the worst possible outcome that could happen.

He would have landed, smashing into the stone floor face first too, if Vinyl hadn’t snatched him inches before the sure-to-be-tooth-chipping impact. Twinkleshine, infuriated and in pain, sucked in a deep breath to chastise Sumac, but was stopped by Maud, who stood nearby, shaking her head from side to side. The stoic earth pony’s silence was somehow able to reach Twinkleshine, and the pearlescent unicorn—whose pastel pink mane now stood on end while arcing with static—seemed to deflate when she realised what it was that she was about to do.

Vinyl, left holding the bleating, blubbering colt, let out a sigh of unknown emotion. Meanwhile, Cloudy, who had watched the entire exchange, moved in to deal with Twinkleshine, who seemed to be having temper troubles of her own. Megara was holding Boomer in her paws, but seemed at a loss for what to do to console the still sniffling dragon stricken with smoky hiccups.

“The movie was a mistake,” Octavia began as she summed up the chaos. “With everybody here packed into the house, I know that I’m having some troubles so I’d imagine that Sumac is too. The poor little guy is overstimulated and needs some recovery time.”

“So this is that introvert thing?” Igneous’ bushy eyebrows furrowed and he looked on with concern.

“Yes.” Octavia’s voice was low and she gave the older stallion a nervous look. “Please be mindful of your words, Igneous—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything else, I promise.” The Pie family patriarch sounded kind, sincere, and his words held a great deal of warmth as well as affection.

“Thank you, Igneous.” Octavia bowed her head a little, nodding at him, and then turned to Vinyl. “Come, Vinyl, let us go and sort Sumac out. Those cuts need cleaning and the poor little guy needs to decompress.”

Yet again, Sumac had been betrayed. He found himself sitting in a sudsy, bubble-filled bathtub sitting between two mares. Oh, how he scowled and tears trickled down from the corners of his eyes as Octavia rubbed his back with her hooves while Vinyl held him up. The hot water and soap stung the scratches on his neck, but the pain of betrayal was somehow worse. When Vinyl had set him down upon the toilet lid and Octavia had started to fill up the tub, Sumac had known that the worst had come to pass.

Now, all he could do was endure his seething, unspeakable rage. His boiling blood felt even hotter than the bathwater and he tried expressing his displeasure by making furious faces at Vinyl, but she seemed unconcerned—totally not even bothered—by his expressions of irate, apoplectic outrage. Of course, this made him even angrier and there just seemed like there was no way to get her to respond.

Still, Octavia rubbing the tense muscles in his back felt good, but he wasn’t about to admit to that. No, admitting to that was out of the question, so he bared his teeth and tried to look fierce. He even tried growling to express his displeasure, but neither mare seemed impressed, not even in the slightest. What was a colt to do? He still had one option at his disposal, the worst option, and that was farting in the tub. That just might teach them a lesson.

But that would have to wait, because right now, the combination of Octavia rubbing his back and the hot water seeping into his cramped muscles felt really, really good. It was also nice to be taken care of. The bathroom was quiet, save for the sounds of splashing water, and nopony said anything at all. The quiet seemed to be restoring his calm, but Sumac wasn’t about to reveal that to anypony, no. Having been betrayed, he wanted to be angry.

In absolute silence, Vinyl Scratch reached out with her telekinesis and picked up a soap bubble from the surface of the bathwater. Unable to hide his reaction, Sumac’s mouth fell open and he began to think about how fine her telekinetic control had to be to lift up a soap bubble without popping it. He tried to do the same, but the bubble popped. When he tried again, that bubble popped too. Now, the colt had a mission, a purpose, an all consuming need to lift up a soap bubble without having it pop and his angry expression melted away to be replaced by one of sheer concentration.

With his back turned to her, Sumac did not see the smirk on Octavia’s face, nor was he aware of the knowing expression exchanged with Vinyl. At the moment, he was absorbed in his task, making a desperate attempt to pick up a soap bubble without popping it. It seemed simple at first, but after a dozen attempts, Sumac had learned much and now his mind was thoroughly engrossed in his efforts. The bubbles were fragile and the slightest pressure made them pop. How had Vinyl done this? It seemed impossible and the fine telekinetic control required to do what she had done was inconceivable to Sumac.

His task became an obsession and the colt failed to notice when Octavia began to scrub the scratches on his neck, trying to remove the blood scabbed in his pelt. His thin eyebrows were angled down over his eyes, making his face wizened, and his tongue stuck out in concentration, a trait common to equines for some unknown reason.

Lifting a bubble in her magic, Vinyl brought it down upon the tip of Sumac’s snoot, where it popped on contact. He went cross-eyed trying to focus on it, and it no longer seemed strange or uncomfortable to be sitting in a bathtub between two mares. Picking up a soap bubble seemed somehow impossible, and he could not understand how Vinyl had performed such an impressive trick.

With a single gentle word, Sumac broke the silence. No, not with the harsh bark of an extrovert seeking to end the silence for the sake of hearing their own voice, but rather with the soft, considerate interruption of an introvert who wished to make a brief introjection. With his temper back in its undiscovered country, he asked, “How?”

Vinyl’s response came with Octavia’s borrowed voice, and it too, was thoughtful to the needs of silence. “Years of practice. I started young. About your age. I was in my teens when I did it for the first time.”

This crushed him, for how else could he respond? How else could he react? There seemed to be no trick, no hidden secret, just a decade of practicing while taking baths. When faced with the long, daunting prospect of this, a tear fell, then another, and then as many tears fell, the colt shuddered and sighed. This did not seem fair, but as with life itself, what was? If he wanted to perform this marvellous trick, he would have to do the work.

Save for the splashes of water, the trio returned to silence.

In a bed that not was not their own, three mares huddled together, terrified by the enormity of their task: raising not one, but two offspring. Trixie Lulamoon had her head tucked beneath the pillows and refused to come out. Twinkleshine lay beside her, her mane a tangled messy mass of static that Lemon Hearts attacked with a brush. Poor little Lemon Hearts could only seem to make the problem worse, and she too had a wicked case of the static crackles that grew with each stroke she made. The brush, being only a brush, lacked a means to give voice to its failure, and as such, suffered in profound silence, the victim of crushing, isolating, existential angst.

Such was the fate of brushes.

Nursing a good sulk, Twinkleshine let out a quivering whine while her lower lip quivered. Her eyes, glassy with tears, appeared unfocused, and after turning her head about, she rested her fuzzy jaw upon Trixie’s cutie mark, using the distraught blue mare as a pillow. Trixie’s tail flicked against the bed with a thump while Lemon Heart’s eyes watched its rise and fall.

“The Downtrodden and Traumatised Trixie shall remain downtrodden and traumatised for the immediate future,” Trixie said, her voice muffled by the pillow over her head.

“Sumac shocked me and I almost dropped him.” Twinkleshine sighed while static arced from her mane to her fuzzy ear, which made it have fitful twitches. “I did drop him and the only reason why he didn’t hit the floor was because of Vinyl. I do not feel confident in my parenting abilities.”

“I could not console Boomer,” Lemon lamented and she raised one front hoof to her forehead in a dramatic gesture of distraught anguish. “Look at us… feeling sorry for ourselves. Hiding from our problems.”

“Isn’t that why we came here? So we could get some much needed downtime? So we could recover?” Twinkleshine closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, held it for a time, and then let everything out in a dejected huff. “I was really happy… I got proposed to this morning… I was going to be part of a family… I was going to do something meaningful with my life… and now, I just feel… crushed.”

“You know nothing of crushed,” Trixie grumbled.

Frowning, Twinkleshine lifted up one foreleg and draped it over Trixie’s middle so she could get more comfortable. Lemon Hearts, the nurturing one, kept brushing but her efforts showed little return. The pile of mares shifted when Lemon turned about to come to rest against Trixie as well, perhaps hoping to squash her tight-lipped secrets out.

“The Downtrodden and Traumatised Trixie had to stand in a stall in the mare’s restroom with her son while he had his very first—” From beneath the pillow, her words came to an abrupt end and she was unable to finish. Both Lemon and Twinkleshine were jostled by Trixie’s full body shudder and the blue mare tucked all four of her legs against her body as she curled into a fetal position.

“Oh.” Lemon’s mouth froze into a little round puckered ‘o’ when she realised what had taken place.

“The Downtrodden and Traumatised Trixie was useless… useless… useless. There was nothing that the Downtrodden and Traumatised Trixie could do but stand there, completely unable to relate to, connect to, or otherwise reach out to her son. He suffered and the Downtrodden and Traumatised Trixie could do nothing.”

“Oh, you poor dear!” Lemon’s outburst was sincere and she rubbed her body against Trixie, trying to comfort her. “That must have been awful for you.”

“Oh, you have no idea of the things that were going through my head.” The pillow shifted, but Trixie did not emerge, and she remained secluded in her Fortress of Fluffitude. “I thought about the worst kinds of things, things I don’t understand, things that confuse me, and it hurt me inside—”

“You thought about him sticking that into Pebble one day, didn’t you?” Twinkleshine asked.

“Yes!” This time, Trixie did emerge from her Fortress of Fluffitude and her head popped up from the pillows. She lay there, blinking, her eyes adjusting to the sudden light. “How did you know?”

“Because, you’re my best friend now and I am pretty sure that I love you even though I’m sort of confused and slip in and out of denial,” Twinkleshine replied. With her head still resting on Trixie Lulamoon’s cutie mark, she snuggled Trixie’s backside and gave it a squeeze.

“The Confused and Somewhat Disgusted Trixie realised that her son had sexual urges and would one day act upon them. It scared her, because she didn’t know how to talk to him about it, or connect to him, because Trixie has no understanding of these things.”

“But you seem to like it when we’re together, you know, doing stuff.” Twinkleshine looked confused for a moment, and she began to slide her chin back and forth over Trixie’s hip.

“Oh, Trixie likes the attention, but the feeling of closeness and the emotions are what set Trixie off. It’s different, but Trixie cannot say how.” After taking a deep breath, she bit on her lower lip and began to chew on it a bit, leaving it stained a darker blue with moisture.

“Oh… oh… wait, I think somepony is in need of sapphic spousal snuggles.” Lemon’s eyes brightened and some of her usual good cheer returned.

“Ever since you heard those words from Octavia,” Twinkleshine breathed.

“I like these words.” Lemon’s smile was almost infectious. “They make me feel good to say them. Now, come on, and let us make the most of our time alone with one another…”

Author's Note

Distraction is a powerful weapon indeed.

Chapter 27

Life, it seemed, was a never-ending series of humiliations, each one building up intensity from the last. Sumac found himself in the most embarrassing, most awful, most terrible, most unthinkable, most unfathomable pickle that anypony could imagine: he was sandwiched between two mares that had just betrayed him by bathing him. Both were fuzzy, soft, and stank of lilacs, or lavender, or some other horrendous floral frou-frou feminine fragrance. They were also sound asleep.

These mares were not his mother, nor were they strangers, which made this especially awkward. He was quite thoroughly squished, trapped, helpless, and Octavia’s heavy leg was slung over his barrel so that she might cling to Vinyl while she slumbered. It was the leg she played the cello with, which made it meaty, muscled, and hard as a sack full of rocks. Between the close, fuzzy proximity of the two mares, the heavy blankets, the nostril-tickling floral stench, and Vinyl’s hot, toothpasty breath blowing on the back of his head, it felt as though he was suffocating.

Even worse, Octavia and Vinyl both were soft, fuzzy, warm, and felt so nice against him, which made this even more galling. And worstest of all? His eyes threatened to betray him, as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier with each blink. Worstiestiest of all? He had to keep blinking. It was as if there was some vast conspiracy, conspiring conspiratorially against him.

“No, consarnit,” he mumbled, his words muffled against the base of Octavia’s neck, and there was a faint sizzle in the air. “Razzle frazzin, no good, ick-sniffing, melon farmers.”

His foalish fury was not enough to save him and after but a few more blinks, Sumac’s eyes refused to open.

Perched upon the edge of a crooked pottery fruit bowl, Boomer appeared to be distraught. Sumac noted her drooping spines, her sagging frills, and her total lack of appetite, which bothered him. She was supposed to be eating fruit, not staring at it with a forlorn expression. The kitchen was filled with blessed quiet, a much needed silence, save for the crackling of the burning logs in the fire.

A pot of tea steamed on the table and Octavia was writing music upon bone white parchment. Vinyl yawned, not quite awake, and then rubbed her pink eyes with her foreleg. The restoring quiet was just what Sumac needed, and he supposed the nap had helped too, but he would never admit to it because it felt good to be petulant and sulky.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Boomer, I’m sorry.”

The dragon hatchling looked up, focused one pivoting eye upon Sumac, and then the other, an alien act that no equine could hope to comprehend. She sniffled a bit, her tiny clawed fingers flexed a few times, and her tail shifted so that she might keep her balance upon her perch.

“I was just trying to help you understand,” Sumac whispered, and he found that he couldn’t look at Boomer any longer, so he stared down at his cup of tea. “This has been a rotten day and everything just went wrong.” Drawing in a deep, shuddery breath, Sumac began to search for more words to say, but couldn’t think of any.

While he struggled to turn meaningful thought into spoken expression, he felt a light impact upon his horn as Boomer reclaimed her favourite perch. He could feel her coiling around, and her scaly tail prickled against his scalp. Though he could not explain why, he felt better. Things felt right again. He was a sorcerer with his companion dragon perched upon his horn. Octavia was writing what would probably be her next big hit while Vinyl just sat there looking befuddled in her half-awake state.

Everything was fine again, at least as fine as it could be in a quiet kitchen with a roaring, crackling fire.

The kitchen was now Cloudy with a chance of conversation. Sumac watched her as she enjoyed her tea and he was surprised to see that her severe, tight bun was missing: her mane, now loosened, spilled down around her neck and withers. It made her look younger—very much so—and he had trouble getting over just how different she appeared. It was like she was a different mare, not Maud’s mother, but maybe an older sister, perhaps.

He kept his opinions to himself though.

Vinyl was flipping though a somewhat tattered spellbook, and while Sumac was interested, he was having trouble focusing after everything that happened, because so much had happened. A cursory glance revealed that the book was about auditory illusions and clairaudient projections. He allowed himself a sweet, sweet bit of smug satisfaction for knowing what these things meant, which he felt was impressive boasting rights for a five-year-old.

“So, Sumac, do you ever imagine doing something fun when you’re all grown up?” Cloudy asked while she focused her wise gaze upon the colt that could only just barely see over the edge of the table.

“What do you mean?” Sumac looked up from his tea, glad for a bit of gentle conversation, but worried that Octavia’s work might be disturbed. The niggling bit of worry caused him a fair bit of stress, because work was important.

“You know, daydreams. Imaginating. Daydreaming. Stuff that normal foals do.”

“I don’t follow.” Sumac felt Boomer shift on his horn, and she let out a tiny smoky snore.

“Like growing up and becoming a pirate. And having fun while thinking about it.” Cloudy folded her forelegs—one over the other—and allowed them to rest against the edge of the table as she leaned over her cup of tea. “Letting yourself daydream about being a pirate and going on adventures.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Shrinking down, Sumac’s ears drooped, and he shivered even though he was rather close to the fire.

“Why is that a terrible idea?” Cloudy’s eyes narrowed and her fine eyebrows cast a shadow upon her cheeks as the crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes intensified.

“If I was a pirate, I might run into Tarnish, and then things would be awful, just awful. When he was done with me, I’d be lucky to have four peg legs and I’d need an eyepatch or two.”

At this, Octavia began to snicker.

“Well, that is what you call an ‘occupational hazard’ and it is something you have to learn how to deal with so you can do your job.” The ends of Cloudy’s lips began twitching and the crinkles in the corners of her eyes grew deeper. Her left ear—the fuzzy tip of it—quivered a bit, her eyes twinkled, and there was something about her face that expressed some kind of odd maternal mischief.

“Tarnish isn’t exactly an occupational hazard that you just deal with,” Sumac retorted in a low matter-of-fact voice while maintaining eye-contact with Cloudy. “Tarnish is the sort of occupational hazard that deals with you, I think.”

The pen fell from Octavia’s lips, hit the table, bounced, clattered, and would have rolled off the edge had she not stopped it with her hoof. Biting her lower lip, she struggled to hold in her laughter, but it came out anyway. Lifting her other hoof, the one not keeping her pen on the table, she covered her mouth and attempted to keep her chortles down to a discreet, polite volume.

“Well, this is where imagination comes in… if you were a pirate, how would you deal with Tarnish?”

“Fairly and honestly while I gave him my unconditional surrender,” Sumac replied.

“You and Pebble both, neither one of you talk like normal foals your age. Maud didn’t either.” Cloudy clucked her tongue, shook her head, and the phantom suggestion of a grin lingered upon her muzzle. “Come on, try to use your imagination just a little bit—”

“I just saw a movie where Tarnish did bad things to bad ponies. All I can imagine is him doing bad things to me if I was a bad pony.” As Sumac spoke, Vinyl squeezed her eyes shut and wheezed with near-silent laughter. “Tarnish and Applejack both… they have… reputations. I’ve heard some stories about them. And I’ve seen what Applejack can do if she gets riled. In comic book hero terms, they’re the heavies for their fellow group of heroes, and comic books are full of examples of why you don’t make the heavy angry.”

“Indeed.” Octavia managed to get out the lone word before she collapsed into rollicking laughter, and she clung to the edge of the table so she wouldn’t fall over.

“Even worse, I don’t think Applejack or Tarnish care about their reputations… I’m pretty sure that Applejack cultivates her reputation like she does apples. She can clear a room of trouble by raising her eyebrow. Twilight has told me some stories… and Tarnish… Tarnish”—he shivered and thought about being shoved into an airship propeller—“has that whip. And ponies with whips tend to use them.”

“You’re not much of a pirate,” Cloudy remarked, and she shook her head in dismay.

“It’s not safe to be a pirate,” Sumac whined in reply.

“This isn’t normal at all.” Cloudy’s nostrils flared and the twinkle in her eyes intensified. “Pinkie Pie had regular dreams of growing up and becoming a pirate. Or a Pie-rate, as she called herself. She even turned her bed into a pirate ship, and she sailed the seas with Marble and Limestone. Pinkie had wonderful adventures and bounced on the bed and fretted over imaginary sharks that lurked beneath the bed.”

Sumac considered this, just how silly it was, and it seemed like something that Pinkie Pie would do even now. For a time, he thought about how dangerous sharks were, and while he had never even seen a shark, he was pretty sure that Tarnish could kick its fins right into next Tuesday.

“Surely you have to dream about something, Sumac.” Cloudy’s brows furrowed and her ears angled forwards over her eyes, pushing her brows down even more. “You have to dare to dream, little colt. There is a big wide world out there, and dreams expand our horizons. Little foals have to dream of what lies beyond their mother’s shadow and they must venture forth to experience all that life has to offer.”

“I’ve seen a whole lot of the world already.” Sumac lifted up his teacup—his tea now pleasantly warm, but not hot—and slurped some. “I’ve seen Equestria’s biggest cast iron frying pan. I’ve stood between the Gates of Dawn and camped in the shadows of the Gates of Even. My life has been one long adventure for as long as I can remember and really, if I dream about anything, it is about being normal. Travelling with Trixie was great, don’t get me wrong, but I want to settle down.”

Octavia’s laughter came to an abrupt, sudden halt, and blinking, she focused her startled gaze upon Sumac. One forehoof came to rest upon her barrel, and something about her eyes now seemed troubled as her long, curved eyelashes fluttered with each blink. Her expression slipped into something almost morose, a profound alteration from the cheerfulness of before.

Much to his own dismay, Sumac’s brain betrayed him and he thought about being sandwiched between Octavia and Vinyl in the bed. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he thought about how he wanted more of that—whatever that was. To feel safe, secure, to feel loved. His mind wandered and he thought about Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine.

It was a pleasant daydream that his brain embarked upon, and Sumac thought about family. As nice as it had been to be cuddled in the middle, he began to wonder what it would be like to be big, and to have something little to snuggle with. It was a powerful profound thought, something that pushed the boundaries of Sumac’s perceptions. The delightful bubble of his daydream popped when he came to the realisation that somepony would have to be in the bed with him, because he would need that somepony to help him make something little to cuddle with and this was how one made a foal sandwich…

Yuck!

Playing plot pirate; perchance poking, possibly plundering poor Pebble perhaps… Sumac shivered yet again and made a face that made him look like he was gnawing lemons. This was not how he wanted to think about his best friend and playmate. His brain, an organ infused with the very essence of betrayal, conjured up a vivid imaginary image of Pebble yawning, giving him full view of her tongue, and beyond that, her throat.

Oh no, not again! No! No! No!

Gulping, Sumac was snapped to attention by his racing heart and he tried to bring order to his out of control thoughts. Huddled in his chair, miserable, he did his best to corral his thoughts before something icky-awful happened. He was in real danger of being embarrassed yet again, and as a lone colt in a kitchen full of mares, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of the humiliating incident in the theatre.

Closing his eyes, Sumac began to count to ten…

Author's Note

Dat alliteration tho...

Chapter 28

The kitchen was crowded with those fixing supper and Sumac had retreated to a quiet, warm corner to hold Boomer while watching the complicated ritual of food preparation. Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine were still secluded in their room, leaving him in the care of others. They needed time with one another, time to sort things out, time to rest and take care of one another. Sumac had an inkling of what was going on, though he did not understand all of it.

All three of them had spent far too much time taking care of him and not nearly enough time caring for themselves and one another. This made sense, because things had been hectic since his abduction by Queen Chrysalis. Thinking of this made him think of Discord, and he wondered how the draconequus’ new life as a pillow on Fluttershy’s sofa was going.

Even though the kitchen was just a little too crowded and had too many voices competing with one another for him to be comfortable, Sumac found he liked this—this was what he wanted more than just about anything. A big, familiar family, all laughing and talking together while fixing a meal. Even Megara was helping, as she was armed with helpful cutting claws.

Vinyl worked with Limestone to make hot spiced cider and the two mares shared smiles with one another as they laboured. Octavia and Pinkie Pie were making eggnog, but Sumac was almost certain that more brandy had gone into the two mares than had gone into the nog. The mulled wine was already finished and now stayed warm in a slow cooker, filling the kitchen with a most delightful aroma.

Multiple fondue pots stood waiting to be filled and Sumac was excited for what was sure to be a scrumptious feast. There would be all kinds of treats to dip into the fondue pots, but mostly there was lots of crusty bread. Igneous helped out by eating pretzels when Cloudy wasn’t watching, the very same pretzels that were supposed to be dipped into the fondue later.

Pinny Lane, who had rather powerful but clumsy telekinesis, worked to turn various blocks of cheese into cubes while Pebble handed her sister Megara loaves of bread to shred. Maud was disemboweling some pumpkins while Tarnish looked on in mock-horror. Everypony was doing something to contribute—except for Sumac, who snuggled with Boomer. It felt nice just to watch and it wasn’t too overwhelming.

One of the logs in the fire popped and Sumac’s ears pricked to full alertness. He listened for a time, tuning out the sounds of many voices, and the raspy crackles of the ravenous beast filled him with a satisfied sense of warmth. He had always liked the sound of a roaring fire, because he associated it with safety. Out in the wilds of Equestria, fire held back the darkness and the creatures that lurked within it.

It occurred to him that feeling warm was more than just sitting by the fire, there was actually a lot more to it than just that. The sound of a fire was somehow just as warming as the sensation of heat and there was a visual element as well. Watching the fire did indeed make one feel toasty, and there was something about the cheery, vivid autumnal hues of blazing orange. The presence of light had something to do with it, Sumac was certain of that. A fire that cast no light—no reassuring illumination—just wouldn’t feel as warm, or so he believed.

All things, big important things, were just really little things that all worked together. Fire was more than the heat it offered, it was an experience; it was the sight, the scent, the sound, and all of the associated sensations. In this way, Sumac reasoned, fire was a lot like love, or friendship, or something big and complex. Friendship was a whole bunch of little things that made one satisfying whole, something greater than the sum of its parts.

Reaching out with his mind, he picked up his notebook and his pencil from where it rested on the table nearby, opened it up, and began jotting down his thoughts, difficult though it might be to put into words. How did one define a fire? Was it merely something burning? He supposed that it was, in a simple sort of way, but that did not do fire justice, just as two ponies who knew one another did not define friendship, but it could be described as that.

He knew Pebble, but knowing one another was a poor summation of their friendship. Together, they had laughed, cried, had faced death, had plummeted from the sky, They shared secrets, told awkward, uncomfortable truths, and had reached the conclusion that they were stronger together than they were apart. Sumac of course, had trouble putting all of this into words, but he tried. His pencil scratching against the paper, he struggled to give his thoughts form and purpose, but turning thoughts into words was a special, complex magic all its own.

And so it was with family; it was more than sharing blood and having a relation to one another. Sumac’s mind strained to conceptualise such big thoughts, but he enjoyed the mental strain. Family was fixing supper together, spending time in close proximity, and taking pleasure in a shared task. As with fire, it was the experience that defined it, and all of this thinking set young Sumac’s brain abuzz.

Slipping away into his own headspace made the hustle and bustle of the kitchen tolerable, pleasant even, and as more words filled the page, Sumac did not feel so overwhelmed by the happenings around him. Without even realising it, he tucked away notes of what others were doing in between his thoughts, such as Cloudy scolding Igneous for pretzel thievery, or Octavia and Pinkie Pie taking turns chugging brandy from the brown glass bottle.

Without realising it, Sumac had found a happy place indeed.

“The pumpkin fondue with cheddar and beer is mine,” Maud announced in a commanding deadpan. “Dip into it at your own risk.” It was not immediately clear if she was joking and there wasn’t a single facial expression to give her actual feelings away.

“Okay.” Tarnish raised a long fondue fork to get everypony’s attention. “Unicorns, be helpful and move the fondue pots around. Help those around you dip if necessary. This is just as much an exercise in helping one another as it is a nice meal, so do try to be mindful of the needs of those around you. Don’t be in a hurry and don’t burn yourself.”

Leaning against the table, Sumac watched as his glass was filled with mulled wine. Not much, but a sample. Just the smell alone left him feeling lightheaded. Another glass, a much taller one, was filled with spiced cider. The eggnog had not been served yet, but Sumac was looking forwards to that most of all.

A few feet away, an enameled cast iron pot filled with bubbling cheese beckoned, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to dip into there first. Apples? Bread? Dried cherries? Pretzels? Too many choices were overwhelming and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to try first. Feeling a soft touch against his side, he turned his head to look over at Pebble, who sat beside him.

“Dip for me?” she asked, and Sumac felt his heart go pitter-patter.

Why must it do that?

“Sure.” Halfway through his response, Sumac’s voice cracked and became quite shrill. Overall, this was quite cringe-inducing and he wanted to crawl beneath the table to hide, or perhaps to die. He watched as Pebble made a clumsy effort to skewer a thick slice of apple onto her fork, and somehow, she didn’t stab herself in her frog as he worried that she might do. This made up Sumac’s mind and he too, also chose a slice of apple for his first dip.

Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine’s absence was felt by Sumac, but he focused upon the task at hoof. Lifting the two fondue forks, he dipped the apples into the nearby pot and held them in the molten cheese to warm them. Pebble was almost leaning on him, her breathing heavy with anticipation, and this was more than just a little distracting. Boomer, perched on the edge of the table, was gorging herself with dried cherries.

Lips pressed tight in concentration, Sumac lifted the two forks and allowed the excess cheese to dribble from the now cooked apples. He gave them a few gentle shakes, which caused fat gobbets of cheese to go plopping back into the pot, and when he was confident that it was safe to do so, he brought the delicious treats back to him. Mindful of the danger, he passed Pebble’s fork back to her at an angle, so the cheese would not dribble down the length and onto her vulnerable fetlock, burning her.

“Thank you, Sumac,” Pebble said while holding her long fondue fork over her pale green plate.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied as he too, held his cheese-drenched apple over his own pastel blue plate.

Brave but cautious, Sumac touched the cheese with the tip of his tongue, then pulled away and began to blow on it. The cheese was almost the same colour that he was, had a smoky, rather nutty goodness, and little flecks of red pepper gave it a festive holiday appearance. After cooling it for a moment, he took a bite, wary of being burned, and sucked in a little extra cooling air between his teeth.

“When I grow up, I am going to have fondue at least once a week for supper,” Pebble remarked while she eyeballed her cheese-dipped apple.

“This one time, in Fancy, the gang and I—”

Tarnish had Sumac’s attention in an instant with these words.

“—we were all eating fondue and discussing which route to take for the next leg of our adventure, when who should show up but Doctor Caballeron and a gang of art thieves. They just rolled up in hired carriages and came spilling out onto the street, with the intention of hitting the museum that was across from the cafe where we were eating. Doctor Jerkface saw Daring Do, Daring Do saw Doctor Jerkface, and then I heard Doctor Jerkface say, ‘Everything that can go wrong with the plan has gone wrong.’ After that, the fight started.”

“Tarnish, have you ever had a peaceful trip overseas?” Igneous asked.

Lifting his glass of mulled wine, Tarnish replied, “Nope. Not a one.”

“So what happened with Doctor Jerkface?” Limestone, who held her fondue fork in her fetlock, leaned in with eager anticipation for whatever Tarnish had to say.

“It’s funny, the art museum was having an exhibit on pre-industrial minotaur culture.” Tarnish stabbed a piece of bread with his fork and with a bold flourish, dipped it into Maud’s fondue pot. “There was a collection of anvils there, highly ornamental anvils shaped like animals like elephants and octomegaceroses—”

Reaching out with her hoof, Maud gave her husband a smart smack for his violation and Limestone chewed with her mouth open as she listened to Tarnish. This caused Cloudy to scowl, and she waved her hoof at her daughter to express her irritation with Limestone’s poor manners.

“—Vinyl and I had the brilliant idea of giving the art thieves exactly what they wanted. We gave them the anvils. Even after they requested that we stop, we were generous with our anvil giving, in accordance with our great Equestrian ideals. That’s why we’re considered ambassadors when we go overseas.”

Covering her muzzle with her hoof, Octavia sounded as though she was choking for a moment—which caused Vinyl to turn and look in concern—but then Octavia began chortling while doing her utmost to prevent it. Her body was wracked with laughter that she could not contain, and this made her ears bob up and down with each unladylike grunt that she made.

“I saw an octomegaceros once,” Pinkie Pie said while Octavia continued with her valiant struggle. “Big. Really big. Ginormous. Really big poops too.”

“Pinkie…” Cloudy, already annoyed with Limestone, now turned her maternal gaze upon the pink pony. “Pinkie, must you?”

“Well”—Pinkie sucked in a deep breath so she could defend herself—“it’s true. Zecora told me that the zebras take octomegaceros poop, bake it in a big oven like a cake, and turn it into a brick. Then they build stuff from these bricks and what they make is super-duper strong.”

With a sigh, Cloudy gave up and dipped a chunk of soft, chewy pretzel into a bubbling pot of cheese. Rolling her eyes, she made the expression of defeated mothers everywhere, and Sumac, after everything that had been said, started to laugh. Beside him, Pebble was doing the same, and while they laughed together, Sumac nipped bites from his cheese-coated section of apple.

With his apple gone, Sumac sampled his mulled wine, and the first sip left him swimmy headed. He shuddered from the boozy taste, decided that he liked it, and then drank a little more. After a few more shivery shudders, he felt relaxed and his anxiety didn’t seem quite so bad. Stabbing his fork into another apple slice, he smiled a satisfied smile and dipped into the fondue pot just in front of him. Across the table from him, Vinyl was grinning from ear to ear while Octavia continued to battle with her need to giggle. When Pebble passed him her fork, he took it without skipping a beat and gave it a dunk along with his.

The mulled wine left him feeling warm, really warm, and Sumac wondered if he was blushing. It felt like he was blushing. Everything felt good, like he didn’t have a care in the world, and it took him some extra effort to pull the forks out of the fondue pot. He passed Pebble’s fork back to her, still mindful, and realised that the big fat wooden handle on the fork was the same colour as Pebble’s plate. His own handle matched his plate, and this felt like a major discovery, because he hadn’t noticed it before.

A bit sweaty and with his heart racing, Sumac was just brimming with affection… and courage. Such courage, a feeling of courage without reservation. Blinking once, he spent a great deal of effort to turn and face Pebble. His body, slow and sluggish to begin with, felt even more detached than usual as he leaned in Pebble’s direction. The filly beside him was the same delightful colour as the dark chocolate fondue, and overall, Sumac was rather fond of chocolate, now that he had it as a treat on a regular basis.

“You’re breathing on me and you smell,” Pebble said to Sumac as she gave him a wary sidelong glance.

“You’re cute.”

“Sumac—”

“Hey, how long did you boil the mulled wine?” Cloudy asked, cutting Pebble off.

“Oh… pshaw!” Pinkie let out a mighty snort and made a dismissive wave with her hoof. “Octavia and I never brought that to a boil to cook the alcohol out. It’s more delicious this way. It seemed like a good idea at the time… why do you ask?”

Cloudy’s response was lost on Sumac, who now had Pebble in a clumsy, but eager embrace. Hot and excited, he breathed into her flickering, twitching ear, and reveled in her extraordinary softness, which appealed to him in ways that could not be explained. Tossing his inhibitions to the wind, he puckered up and planted a cheesy, boozy smooch on her cheek, which was left shiny with slobber as he pulled away. Pebble, absolutely frozen in horror, did not move, but sat there holding her fondue fork with a cheese-dipped apple skewered on the end.

“Yuck!” Pebble somehow broke the spell and managed to blink. “Why did nopony save me?”

Still holding his small glass full of mulled wine, Sumac gulped it down before an adult could save him from himself. Now, he felt great, and heaving a sigh of contentment, he began to gnaw on his cheesy apple while he swayed from side to side in his seat. Beside him, Pebble was wiping her cheek with her foreleg while her face kept turning a darker and darker shade of brown.

“Tarnish… while we’re all in a good mood…” Cloudy twisted around in her seat to face her son-in-law and something about her expression filled Sumac with alarm. “There is something that I want to talk to you about.”

“What’s that, Cloudy?”

“Tarnish… I’d like to know how you’d feel about marrying Limestone…”

Sensing impending doom, Sumac reached for his glass of spiced cider as supper exploded into chaos…

Author's Note

A cliffhanger you say...

Chapter 29

Tarnish was quiet, and this was bad, because the silence was scary. Sumac dipped a piece of bread into the fondue pot, let it soak for a moment, lifted it up, and let the cheese dribble from it. Down at the end of the table, Pinny Lane dipped a rock salt encrusted chunk of pretzel into the chocolate fondue, and then, like Sumac, she let the excess drip away. Beside her, Megara eyeballed the now chocolate covered pretzel and licked her lips.

“You know, Tarnish, there is no harm in listening to what she has to say—”

“Betrayal,” Tarnish said as he turned his piercing gaze upon Octavia. “From you of all ponies. After all those times you argued with Cloudy, after all those hours spent fighting and bickering—”

“Tarnish, darling, it is because of those hours spent fighting that I suggest this. Peace is fragile and we should do what we can to preserve it. I am merely suggesting that you listen to what she has to say… but that doesn’t mean you have to agree to it.” Holding her fondue fork in one fetlock, she lifted up her glass of mulled wine with her other. “Cloudy might have something worthwhile to say, something meaningful. Let’s at least keep the peace.”

His good manners forgotten, Sumac crammed the entire chunk of cheese-soaked bread into his mouth and began to chew. He speared another and Pebble passed him her fork, which already had bread on the end. Watching Tarnish, he dunked them both and then waited while they soaked up cheesy goodness. After pulling them out and letting them drip, he passed one back to Pebble, who took it in silence.

“Ce poulain est trempé dans du fromage… I think?” Pinkie Pie shrugged as chocolate ran down her fuzzy chin. “I don’t remember learning Fancy, but after drinking all of that Fancy brandy, it feels like the right thing to say. Yes.” Turning to her sister, she added, “Cheer up, Limestone, you’re getting married.”

Biting her lip, Limestone had nothing to say in return.

“Okay… out with it, Cloudy. I’ll listen.” Again, Tarnish dipped into Maud’s fondue pot, and for the second time, he was slapped for his infraction.

Cloudy took a deep breath and Sumac tensed in anticipation of whatever might be said. Beside her, Igneous was feeding Boomer bits of dried fruit that he stabbed with his fork and offered to her. Pinny was now watching her son in thoughtful silence. Pebble held her fork in one fetlock, and her other foreleg was now wrapped around Sumac’s.

“You’ve been good to Maud,” Cloudy began, and she gestured at everything around her by waving her fondue fork around. “Together, the two of you have accomplished so much. You have this home and your family is growing. I would like to know if you could find it in your heart to share just a little bit of all of this with Limestone. As her mother, I know that she gets lonesome and she worries about her prospects.”

“Cloudy, why? Why do this?” Tarnish asked.

“Tarnish, what lengths would you go to keep Pebble happy?” Cloudy replied.

Sumac watched as Tarnish’s furrowed brow unwrinkled, and something about the new expression upon the chocolate brown unicorn’s face made Sumac feel small… foalish. Was this a stern daddy look? It might have been. Whatever it was that Sumac was witnessing, Tarnish was deep in thought. In silence, he crammed more cheese-soaked bread into his mouth and began to chew.

“If you were me right now, would you not want your daughter to share in all of this? To have a little of her sister’s good fortune? It is good for sisters to share and to keep a family together… just look at the Royal Pony Sisters. Limestone is just starting to come into her own. While she’s already successful, I hope that a little of your success rubs off on her and inspires her to be an even better pony than she already is. I know that Limestone can take care of herself, I’m not asking you to take care of her. What she needs is an outlet for her success and to be with those who would be her equals.”

“Wait…” Maud lifted her hoof. “I think I understand. You worry about Limestone becoming some dumb colt’s sugar mama, and because we started off as rock farmers, you want Limestone to go up a few rungs on the social ladder, but you don’t want her getting lost to the snobby elites.”

Shrugging a little, Cloudy nodded her head while her eyes narrowed. “Something like that, yes. I don’t want Limestone unequally yoked. I’m terrified of that happening, actually, and you and Tarnish are the only ponies that I know and trust with all of this.”

Again, Sumac performed the ritual, dunking his and Pebble’s fork into the bubbling cheese.

Tarnish’s cider glass hovered near his lips, but the stallion did not drink. Nostrils flaring, Tarnish just sat there and Sumac stared at him, dying to know what was going to happen next. The colt had no real idea of what was going on, and he didn’t understand much of what was being said. This was heavy-duty adult stuff that flew right over his horn.

“You’re trying to protect Limestone from her own success,” Pinny Lane said to Cloudy, “by giving her over to those who have already sorted out the dangerous pitfalls. I must say, that’s admirable. Tarnish, honey, my little choco-drop, I’m glad you listened.”

“No mother wants her daughter exploited.” The tendons in Cloudy’s neck creaked as her jaw firmed for a moment, and she turned to look at her daughter, Limestone. She gazed upon her grown up foal with great fondness in her eyes, and then, after blinking a few times, she turned away. “Limestone is in a weird and dangerous place… a place that I don’t fully understand. If she moves upwards, towards high society, I don’t know if I can protect her, but I want her to be in a place where she can realise her full potential.”

Slumping down in his chair, Tarnish closed his eyes. “I understand your worry, now that you’ve explained it. I get it, I do. And yeah, if I was in your position, I might just be doing what you’re doing right now.” After sighing a bit, he tipped back his cider glass and then emptied it.

Serious adult stuff was going down, and Sumac smacked his lips as he gobbled his food. The adults were so engrossed in everything going on that nopony even bothered to suggest that he mind his manners, so he made the most of it, and beside him, Pebble did much the same. Spearing an apple slice, Sumac took Pebble’s already loaded fork and made ready to dip them, but this time he intended to go for the chocolate, which was further down the table.

“Stupid money has made my life complicated,” Limestone muttered to herself as she stabbed her fork into a nearby fondue pot. “Becoming the Baroness of Bat Shit was the worst idea ever.”

Nopony said anything to scold Limestone for her outburst, and Sumac was rather shocked.

“Cloudy…” Tarnish opened his eyes and focused upon his mother-in-law. “While I am flattered that you would trust me with another one of your daughters, I can’t. I honestly can’t. Limestone is like a sister to me… maybe too much like a sister. We’re very close, she and I.”

“Which is why I asked.” Cloudy leaned in Tarnish’s direction and her ears fell into a submissive position. “Maybe I misunderstood, but I always thought that you and Limestone might have had a little something special after she went off on that adventure with you and Maud. You both seemed so close… there has even been times when she’s slept in the bed with all of you.”

“She has, but it’s always been innocent,” Maud said to her mother. “Mostly, she just wanted to be with me.”

“Limestone?” Tarnish’s eyes turned in her direction, but Limestone did not return his gaze.

“It’s too gross to think about, being with Tarnish in that way,” Limestone murmured and it was difficult for Sumac to make out her words. “He’s my brother in every way that it matters and it is just too squicky to even think about. I can’t even think of him in that way without feeling queasy.”

Igneous was quick to leap upon the opportunity. “Well, I think that settles it. Only a madpony tells another pony to develop romantic feelings for their sibling. This should now be left alone because going any further on this issue would be a terrible idea.”

“You’re right.” Cloudy nodded at her husband, and then turned to look at Tarnish with warm, expressive eyes and perked, pleasantly positioned ears. “Thank you for hearing me out, at least, and I’m glad that we at least reached an understanding.”

“You know, Cloudy, I think you’re right. We have reached an understanding and I think we’ll all be a little closer because of this.” Tarnish filled his glass with more cider, smiled, and Sumac could read relief upon the stallion’s now relaxed face. “Octavia, I’d like to thank you for getting me to listen.”

“I’m just glad that this worked out,” Octavia replied. “I had a dreadful fear that the past would repeat itself and we’d all end up in a row. We haven’t always listened to one another quite so well in the past and I was rather worried that you’d blame me if this went wrong. I am relieved.”

“This feels like a friendship lesson.” Pinkie Pie, her muzzle slathered in chocolate, let out a hiccup that made her ears flap like bird wings. “All that bickering was why I kinda sorta stopped coming home to visit. Mom, no offense, but a stallion and a mare can be good, close friends without being romantically linked, I think. Maybe? But you had this notion that every mare that Tarnish liked, he had to marry.”

“I guess I did.” Cloudy’s ears sagged a little and she stared down at her plate. “The times have changed and I’ve been rather isolated on the rock farm. Things are different now. It used to be that if a mare and a stallion were friends, ponies would talk… things would be said, and those things said could damage one’s respectability.”

Wiping his lips with his foreleg, Sumac had an idea. It was a wonderful idea, perhaps his best idea ever, an even better idea than the salt and vinegar potato chips with milk for breakfast. Liquid courage coursed through his veins and his scalp burned with the heat of ten thousand brilliant ideas. He smacked his lips once, then again because it felt good, and then cocked his head off to one side as he looked Igneous right in the eye.

“I’ll be happy to take Limestone off of your hooves, Mister Pie.”

The sound of Pebble giggling filled Sumac with confusing feelings and he couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of her yawning. He was sleepy, so very sleepy, and his body felt like lead. Limestone, who was holding Pebble, seemed fit to split and was about to bust a gut. Supper had turned into a laugh riot, though Sumac was having a little trouble recalling why exactly, and everypony had laughed while they feasted. At some point, he had managed to fill his glass with more mulled wine, and this had gone unnoticed.

What had been so funny again?

“Hey… Pebble… you… you wanna go to bed with me?” Sumac asked, and his question made Pebble bury her face into Limestone’s side. “I think… I think it’s past my bedtime.”

“Kiddo… you sound… sloshed.”

Sumac froze at the sound of his mother’s voice, and it was without a doubt, the worst sound in the world. Trixie sat down beside him on the couch, lifted him up, and pulled him into a warm, velvet embrace. She was sleek, shiny, and her pelt was somewhat oily, as if lotion had just been rubbed in. The overpowering scent of rose petals and lavender filled Sumac’s nose as Trixie cradled him.

Lemon Hearts appeared without warning and plopped herself down on Trixie’s right. Twinkleshine eased in on Trixie’s left. Sumac, held in a rather foalish position, peered up at the three faces looking down at him. What had these three mares been doing that had kept them from dinner? Rubbing each other down with lotion, it seemed. He had some vague awareness that the smelly stuff was rubbing off on him.

“You know, I think we could do anything we wanted with him,” Lemon remarked.

“Yeah, probably,” Sumac replied and he was somewhat disturbed by his own confession of the truth. “I’m sleepy.” As an afterthought he added, “All of you are very pretty.”

“Oh, he’s one of those kinds of drunks.” Twinkleshine offered up a knowing nod and her cheeks grew round when she smiled. “My parents would let me have a few sips of wine around the holidays. Some of my fondest memories of when I was little was being held by my father while I drifted off to sleep and my mother would read the story about Hearthfire. I’d imagine that the warmth I felt from a few sips of wine was just like the warmth that Hearthfire offered.”

“As I am now a grown up, I understand why parents give their foals wine and cider around the holidays.” Lemon Hearts leaned over and Sumac found himself gazing into her raspberry-coloured eyes. “All those sugary treats… all that excitement. The eagerness to get presents. A little wine or a little cider is the only way to get those foals to bed.”

“Those were Caper’s tenderest moments.” Trixie’s voice was husky and distant, as if she wasn’t speaking to anypony in particular. “Lord Lulamoon would drink to excess… he would be deep in his cups, as my mother Dandy would say, and it was only then, during these moments, that he would be affectionate with me. Sometimes. He would read to me… the tale about Hearth’s Warming.”

“Trixie?” both Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine said together.

“Looking back on it, I’d like to think that Caper wanted to be affectionate with me, but didn’t know how,” Trixie continued, and then she punctuated her words with a wistful sigh. “It is easy to believe the worst in somepony, especially somepony like Caper, but after talking with Twilight Velvet and Night Light, I’ve chosen to believe in what good I can. It helps, it does, just a little.”

Sumac was entranced by the three faces pressed together above him.

“So,” Lemon Hearts began, “Sumac Apple, what’s this I hear about you getting engaged to Limestone Pie?”

Author's Note

Cliffhanger resolved.

Chapter 30

None of this could be real. The world was far too green and verdant, far too lush in the dead of winter, and it was as warm as a late spring day. There was also the niggling little detail that Sumac had full control over his body, a clear indicator that something was up. This was Princess Luna’s realm, a dangerous place for introverts with weighty consciences and troubled minds.

Honeysuckle brushed up against his sides, tickling him in the worst ways as he trotted through the field, heading towards the sound of a familiar voice singing. Birds were chirping, cows were mooing, pigs were oinking, and somewhere, ahead of him, a sunny yellow pegasus was singing. Was it the real Fluttershy or just a construct in a dream? Sumac didn’t know, but he was going to find out, because this dream felt especially lucid to him.

A bumble bee went buzzing past, off to do bumble bee errands, but something was somewhat off with this bumble bee, because it was wearing what appeared to be a fedora and carried a tiny briefcase. What did a bumble bee need with a briefcase? Things didn’t have to make sense in dreams, but most things held a deeper meaning. Whatever the reason, Princess Luna was just showing off.

Ahead, in the tall grass and the honeysuckles, he saw a pastel pink mane and sunny yellow wings. What looked like Fluttershy was lost in song, she had her head high and thrown back, with her ears resting at perfect relaxed angles. The song had no words, just sounds, happy sounds that left him feeling both restless and peaceful at the same time, a strange feeling indeed.

“Hi!” Sumac’s over-exuberant greeting caused Fluttershy to launch into the air with the politest of panicked pegasus poots, and if this poot had a colour it would have most certainly had been a polite pastel poot, as befitting a panicked polite pastel pegasus.

“EEEP!” Fluttershy’s shrill cry of alarm caused many of the nearby birds to take wing, and there was a rain of bird droppings—once again, Princess Luna was showing off. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” Sumac said, apologising and meaning it. He did his best to look apologetic and watched as Fluttershy’s face explored a broad spectrum of emotions before returning to its typical serene state. “It looks like we’re sharing a dream.”

“That happens sometimes.” Fluttershy began to nod and she eased herself back down to the ground, coming to what appeared to be a weightless rest. “Princess Luna is such a busy pony. I don’t mind sharing a dream if it makes things easier for her. How have things been, Sumac?”

“I might be engaged to Limestone Pie.” The look of shock upon Fluttershy’s face left Sumac uncomfortable, and before the flood of questions could burst past the spill gates, he added, “How is Discord?”

Now, Fluttershy just looked sad, the change was abrupt and sudden. “Nothing has changed. He hasn’t moved. I don’t know what to do for him.”

At this moment, Sumac was distracted by a butterfly that went fluttering past and his ears pivoted around as he tried to determine if he could hear anything. Intent, he began to stalk the beautiful bug, his ears still locked on its direction, but before he could get close, the butterfly scrammed, leaving him frustrated.

“Oh, you’ll never catch them that way,” Fluttershy said in a voice filled with the most reassuring gentleness. “But if you sit down and hold very, very still, the butterflies will come to you. Trust me, I know.” Turning to one side, she gestured at her cutie mark and flashed Sumac an eager, excited smile. “Sitting still and being calm is a wonderful game… I’m really good at it too.” Then, as an afterthought, she added in a squeak, “Oh, I don’t mean to brag or boast, I’m sorry.”

There were times when Sumac liked sitting still, so he could be thoughtful, reflective, and introspective. With his eyes following the butterfly, he sat down and tried to ignore where the long grass was tickling him, because grass just tickled there and nothing could be done about it. As he sat there, he began to wonder if sitting still could make other desirable things come to him, things like… Pebble. Yes, if he sat still long enough, she would come; either to check and see what was wrong with him, or she might assume he had turned to stone and would have an irresistible fascination with him because she liked things that were hard.

“You have to be very still, and very quiet,” Fluttershy began with words so soft that they tickled the ears. “It helps if you think about happy butterfly thoughts. Think about peaceful butterfly things, like inviting flowers and really gentle breezes filled with pollen.” Then, the sunny yellow pegasus began deep breathing and made a gesture for Sumac to follow her example.

Did butterflies dream? Sumac didn’t know, but he guessed that they didn’t. Butterflies were pretty stupid, after all, and there wasn’t much of a brain to have a dream with, so he guessed that these butterflies were all dream constructs rather than the real thing. How terrible it would be to be a creature that did not dream… but then Sumac reconsidered when he thought about all of his own troubling dreams. Perhaps butterflies led a carefree existence, untroubled by nightmares and uncomfortable dreams.

Butterflies just were, or so Sumac reckoned, and they just existed. If butterflies had any cares, they wouldn’t flutter about, carefree. No, they would probably go off and mope somewhere, just like he was prone to do at times when life was overwhelming and the lurking tempers within him grew too strong. They would become buttermopes and nopony would like them.

Sumac became so engrossed with thinking about butterfly thoughts that he forgot about the actual butterfly flitting about. He never quite understood the sorts of ponies that thought that thinking was a chore. Walking the length and breadth of Equestria, there had been a lot of time for thinking, because there wasn’t much else to do, and when everything was still, was quiet, when everything was tranquil, those were the times when things like his hypothesis would come to him. The most fantastic of ideas would appear within his mind just like magic. Of course, it was magic, or so Twilight said, and he was discerning the will of magic itself, which made itself known to just the right ponies.

Thus, the colt was quite surprised when the butterfly landed on his nose and he went cross eyed trying to focus upon it. Up close, it was quite different than from afar. It was dusty with pollen, had big buggy eyes, and a long curled tongue. Perhaps the most curious thing of note was the fact that this butterfly appeared to have a cutie mark; but try as he might, he could not make it out, as it was little more than a tiny smear of yellow and orange.

“Look at me, I’m pretty,” the butterfly said in a familiar voice that Sumac could not place.

“Ugh, this butterfly is vain.” Sumac tossed his head about to dislodge the peculiar butterfly and then watched as it flapped away, now humming to itself. The dream realm was quite a strange place, indeed. “Fluttershy, my butterfly is defective—”

“No I’m not!” the butterfly cried in protest as it made good its escape. “I’m beautiful and perfect.”

“O-o-oh my.” Fluttershy covered her mouth with one dainty hoof and she too, watched as the curiously vocal butterfly flew away, off to pollinate some nearby sunflowers, no doubt. “We shouldn’t judge, Sumac. All lies and jest, still a butterfly hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest, hmm.”

“What?” Baffled by Fluttershy’s curious words, Sumac couldn’t help but feel that this dream was steering into surreal seas.

“Nevermind.” Fluttershy sighed, shook herself, and swept her mane back down over her face. “We should frolic, Sumac.”

“Alright.” Sumac shrugged and then followed Fluttershy’s lead as she took off.

The colt, observant, noticed that Fluttershy flew in the dream without flapping her wings and this gave him ideas, marvellous ideas. Dreams didn’t have the same rules as the waking world, so as he bounded along after the sunny yellow songbird pegasus, he tried to will himself to break free of whatever gravity operated in this place.

Rules could be broken, pushed against, with magic rules could be stretched like so much taffy. Sumac understood this better than most, because his sorcery broke the known laws of magic to provide a wellspring of near-limitless power. Not so much for himself, but for others, but such was the life of a sorcerer. But that was okay, it was all okay, because Sumac understood the real power of his sorcery, and it was friendship. His friends would keep him safe, friends like Fluttershy, a pony that he admired even if she smelled like animal pee sometimes.

With each bound, Sumac went higher, and higher, and higher still. He was clearing the tops of the honeysuckle and the tall grass and in triumph, he clicked his hooves together just as he was prone to do when pronking. Either the ground was growing rubbery, or Sumac was getting lighter, because now it felt as though the rules were breaking down.

Nearby, the sunflowers began tittering, they giggled while swaying side to side.

Bubbling with laughter, Sumac was overcome by the sheer joy of the moment, and at the apex of his next pronk, he broke free. Shooting upwards, he let out a startled cry, his joy fleeing from him, and beneath him, the ground retreated. In the span of a single eyeblink, the ground now appeared to be miles away. With wide, troubled eyes, Sumac looked at the startled pegasus hovering beside him.

“Help me,” he squeaked.

Then, Sumac fell. Drawn downward by cruel force, he fell once more, just as he had done over Ponyville, but there was no Rainbow Dash to save him. In mere seconds, he was going to so fast that the air made his eyes sting and his four legs flailed about as his panic tried to make him run.

With a fierce expression, Fluttershy dove, she plunged like a kestrel after its prey.

Sumac reached up as Fluttershy reached down, but the gap between them remained constant. Below, the ground seemed to be retreating away from Sumac even as he fell, and the colt kept his eyes locked on Fluttershy’s eyes as the determined pegasus did everything within her power to save him. As his heart smashed against his ribs, the colt started to suspect that his saviour would not be able to reach him.

It was soul-crushing to watch as Fluttershy poured everything she had into trying to save him, but it was all for naught. Forelegs outstretched, Sumac strained to reach her, not only to save himself, but also to comfort her, as he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Every second spent in freefall was absolute terror and Sumac was certain that his heart would burst within his ribs at any moment.

“Go still, Sumac!” Fluttershy hollered at him. “Go still, and be calm! Think butterfly thoughts!”

Such a thing seemed impossible given the circumstances, but Sumac understood. Thinking butterfly thoughts was the key to lucid dreaming. Twisting around in the air, Sumac faced the ground, tucked in his legs, and accepted his fate. Crashing would not be the end, no, it would just be really, really scary. Eyes glazed from wind and fear, the colt forced his breathing to slow down and now, the ground was rushing up to meet him, where as before, the ground had fallen away from him even as he plummeted.

“Calm thoughts, Sumac!”

It sounded as though Fluttershy needed calm thoughts and Sumac gave the distraction a mental shove. What was there to be afraid of? Everything! Heights were scary now after what had happened to him, falling was awful, but the worst part was the sudden stop at the end. On impact, he would be a puddle, yes, he would be gooey puddle of something that resembled fondue.

Spreading his forelegs, Sumac fell in a swan dive and kept his eyes locked upon the ground below, refusing to look away even for an instant. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t solid, it was just a construct, something made of dreamstuff and it was only as tangible as he believed it to be. It didn’t have to be ground, it could be chocolate spongecake if he so desired.

“Fluttershy, you have to be calm too!”

“I’m trying!”

“Stop flapping,” Sumac said and his voice was torn away from his muzzle by the force of the wind. “No matter what you do, you can’t catch me.”

“O-o-oh.” Fluttershy’s whine made Sumac’s ears perk. “You’re right.”

The ground was close now, and getting closer with every passing second. A verdant meadow, windflowers, honeysuckles, a few trees, and a patch of sunflowers prone to giggling. A bumble bee with a fedora and a briefcase. Somewhere below was a butterfly secure in his belief that he was pretty and perfect. In this realm, these things were possible, and as such, anything was possible, just as it was with magic.

Sumac began to slow and he leveled out in the air. Overhead, Fluttershy had closed her eyes and she fell with her wings limp, trailing above her. The air around him had a strange thickness to it now, it acted as a near-solid and felt almost like a dry liquid. Reaching out with his mind, Sumac willed the ground to come to him. Twilight and Trixie both had taught him about focus, about control, and Lemon Hearts was teaching him how to still his mind so he could control his temper tantrums.

There was a pop from Fluttershy’s direction and Sumac saw a bright yellow and pale pink butterfly fluttering down to him. The wind found no purchase, and the butterfly was untroubled by turbulence. The Flutterfly had gone beyond wind, beyond the physical, and she now existed as a construct of this place. Sumac realised that his sorcery had touched her somehow, though he did not know how, but he could sense it, he felt it and the knowledge burned within his mind. Here, he did not need zap apples—because the rules were different. He only needed calm control and force of will.

When she landed on his nose, Sumac began to drift like a leaf on the breeze, and was no longer in any danger at all from falling. Sucking in wind, he tried to control his breathing and his lungs burned from his prolonged panic. His trust in his friends had saved him. Was that the lesson here? He wasn’t able to do much to save himself, but he could trust in others to save him. The Flutterfly had saved him and as he drifted down to the ground, he tried to puzzle out the meaning to all of this.

With his hooves on the ground and the Flutterfly still on his nose, Sumac watched as a midnight blue alicorn slipped off between the trees in the nearby copse. She stepped into a shadow and then was gone, leaving Sumac to reflect upon his thoughts with Fluttershy. A lesson had been learned here, but what? And for what reason? Why go through all this trouble?

Now, Sumac had questions.

Author's Note

Go away, pollinatin'!

Chapter 31

With his dream still fresh in his mind, still vivid, with every detail still burned into his synapses, Sumac attempted to apply the lesson of the dream: calm control. Standing on trembling legs, he ignored Pebble and Megara’s quizzical expressions and focused instead on control. Even though his neck ached and his knees banged together, the colt tried not to let it worry him, knowing and understanding what was holding him back now. No fear of falling, nor anxious anxiety. He did his best walking when he was distracted, and not thinking about it.

The first step was always the hardest, the worst, because so much dread went into making it happen. Princess Luna, with Fluttershy’s help, had shown him the way. No fear, no dread, no lip biting, it was time to cast those things aside. Just breathe, he told himself. Perched on the edge of the table, Boomer’s frills rose and fell with each breath she took, her eyes never once leaving Sumac.

Each breath was visible, a cloud of steam, and the kitchen was quite cold. Everypony was still waking up and the morning struggle to make tea and coffee was underway. Sumac took one step, wobbled a bit, took another, and fought to remain upright. On the third step, he grunted, frustrated, reminding himself that quadrupeds did not move one leg at a time, and that he was being stupid. Holding his head high hurt, it hurt a lot, but this was good because the pain helped to keep him focused.

Without realising it, Sumac stumbled into walking. There was a delay in his legs—a problem to be certain—but he ignored it for now. Queen Chrysalis had broken his neck, she had shattered him, but that was not the end of him. The sound of Lemon Hearts fretting over him was distracting, and he wished that she would stop, but she was Lemon Hearts. Telling her to stop fretting would be like suggesting that she should stop breathing. The sound of running water caused Sumac’s ears to perk, and for some awful reason, he thought of a bath being filled.

Just as he had gained control in the dream, having achieved a state of lucid awareness, so too did Sumac do the same with walking. Perhaps the issue with walking had been a mental one, or maybe he had hit a stage of rapid healing, but Sumac enjoyed his newfound state of control. Pebble followed after him, taking short, tiny steps so she would not overtake him, and Megara followed after Pebble, taking swipes at her sibling’s swishy tail. It was almost like a parade, but there was no marching band.

“Look at him go,” Trixie remarked as Sumac led his procession around the kitchen table. “So, Tarnish, what is on your agenda for today?”

Standing near to the enormous sink, Tarnish turned his head and replied, “Gingerbread. Pinkie Pie graciously stayed up late last night to make an enormous stockpile of gingerbread and everything we need to make a holiday village. She has to go to work today, but she made sure that we’d have enough for our fun.”

“Just doing my part.” Pinkie, not quite awake, seemed startled when her father, Igneous, smooched her on the cheek without warning. In response, she gave her father a fierce hug and squeezed his neck until his eyes bulged from their sockets. “All of you have lotsa fun without me, okay?”

“Having to work sucks—”

“Pebble!” Cloudy, Lemon Hearts, Pinny Lane, and Octavia all said the filly’s name in a scolding tone.

“Well it does,” Pebble whined as she followed along after Sumac. “Stupid parents having to work and they go off on trips around the world, leaving me behind, and I’m always stuck wondering and worrying if they were going to come back. Even worse, sometimes they’re gone for a bloody long time and I hate it.”

Most of the ponies in the room were about to all say something at once, but Tarnish beat them to it. Drawing himself to his full, commanding height, he raised his voice and said, “Leave her be. I mean it. I’m putting my hoof down about this. She needs to be more expressive of how she feels so she doesn’t hold stuff in, and if all of you pile in on her all at once, that won’t help things at all. So… not a word or you’ll have words with me. Just, lay off for a bit.”

Stunned, Pebble went still, save for blinking her eyes, and it took her several long seconds to recover herself while Sumac continued his walk around the table. Megara stepped around her, following Sumac, and after regaining her senses, Pebble broke away to go over to where her father was. Upon reaching him, she stood there, looking up at him with an expectant expression upon her face, and Tarnish, mindful of the fact that Pebble did not like to be lifted, lowered himself down to the floor with her. In silence, she scrambled up onto his back, clinging to his long, skinny neck, and when he stood back up, she made herself comfortable on her lofty seat.

Sumac, who watched all of this in silence, knew that he and Pebble shared a common struggle, and that was dealing with parents—adults—who wanted to do what was best, but had a tendency to do those things at the worst possible time. Inopportune adulting was the shared bane of he and Pebble’s existence. Pebble, who had a hard face to read most of the time, now wore an expression of relief that even Sumac could see. The steady clop-clop-clop-clopping of his hooves against the stone floor was reassuring and uplifting for Sumac, and things worked best when he ceased being so anxious and stopped thinking about them.

Standing next to the counter, Twinkleshine began cracking eggs into an enormous bright green mixing bowl while Lemon Hearts minced some potatoes. Unbeknownst to Sumac, the two mares were exchanging furtive glances with one another while also watching his progress. With a blank, deadpan expression, Maud looked upwards at her daughter, and though she said nothing, there was some sort of meaningful silent exchange.

Left to her own devices, Boomer ransacked the bowl of mixed nuts on the table. She pulled out her first victim—a walnut—and using both her claws and her almost beaklike snout, she made short work of the protective shell. With her tiny, dexterous fingers, she ripped out the walnut meat, cast it aside on the table, and then gobbled down the shell while making smoky, pleasurable grunts. A hazelnut was her next victim, and like the first, she ripped the meat out and then devoured the shell, a most peculiar habit.

In a stunning display of claw-eye coordination, Boomer hurled the hunk of hazelnut meat at Megara, who was quite startled when it bounced off of her ear. The manticore spawn whirled about with a growl, just in time to get hit in the snoot with a chunk of walnut meat. In what could only be described as a feline response, she batted at the offending bit of nut with her paw and then gobbled it down with a loud gulp.

Then, the provoked felinoid went after the hazelnut, which had rolled close to the fire. Meanwhile, Boomer was gutting even more nuts, ripping out their innards with ferocious glee so she could eat the shells. The tasty meats, which she did not seem to care for, were thrown at Megara, who lept and pounced to catch them.

“I wish Twilight was here to study this,” Trixie remarked to nopony in particular. “No doubt, she’d have something witty or meaningful to say about this friendship between two species of mortal enemies out in the wilds.”

“Mortal enemies?” Limestone looked up from the pile of potatoes that Lemon Hearts was chopping.

“Manticore poison is especially effective against dragons.” Trixie’s eyes narrowed for a moment and she peered at Boomer, who was lining up a shot. “I only know a little, and that comes from all my travels. But I’ve heard stories about them fighting and have had warnings from fellow travellers that danger waited down the road.”

“It’s our fault.” Tarnish’s voice held a keen hardness to it and Sumac stopped to listen. “We’re destroying their habitats. The wilderness is shrinking in many places. I suspect that under normal circumstances, manticores and tree dragons, being perfect enemies with one another, would give each other a wide berth, but with the wilderness shrinking, they are now in direct competition with one another. They have no choice but fight over what territory is left.”

“Perfect enemies?” Sumac asked, curious by what Tarnish meant.

“Evenly matched,” Tarnish replied, and his expression revealed that he was thinking of his next words. “Tree dragons breathe fire, which manticores are vulnerable to, and manticore poison tends to be fatal to smaller dragons. The stingers will punch right through even the toughest metallic scales. They are both the apex predators of their environments.”

Possessed with a mind that needed to understand everything around him, Sumac stood in one spot and let the gears of his mind run full tilt. It didn’t take him long to pose a question, a good question, he felt. “So how are Boomer and Megara friends?”

In response, Tarnish shrugged. “They’re not having to fight for resources? Everything they need has been provided for them? We ponies are naturally communal, so a little bit of that might have rubbed off on them? I have no idea.” With a thoughtful expression, he watched as Boomer pelted his daughter with shelled nuts.

“Naturally communal?” Sumac shuffled closer to the fire, so that he could warm his backside.

“Ponies are naturally communal.” Maud’s response was delivered in her usual deadpan. “We’re a gregarious herd species and our survival is based upon the strength of the herd. Our instincts are all about keeping the herd strong. We forgive quickly, share what we have, and we are quick to make friends, or even lovers. All of this benefits the herd.”

Hesitating, Sumac pressed his lips together, as he didn’t want to say that Maud was wrong, but in his experience, Maud was wrong. So it was with some caution that he said, “But I’ve known ponies who are greedy and took more than they need. I’ve seen how hard it is for some ponies to forgive.” Saying this, he glanced at Trixie for a moment before he continued, “And tribalism tore our species apart, separating us and making us weak.”

“Sumac, darling…” Octavia raised her hoof and made a circular gesture with it. “Sumac, there are instincts, and there are learned behaviours. What Maud said is true, but also by the same token, what you have said also has a grain of truth to it. Our instincts compel us to behave in one way, but our learned behaviours can cause us to act in another. It is possible to go against instinct, and sometimes, this is beneficial to our species, rising above our primitive selves. At other times, however, it is a detriment.”

Sumac wanted examples, but he said nothing. His brows furrowed in a thoughtful way and he had himself a good think about everything that had just been said. Of course, he had instincts, but he couldn’t recall a time that they had compelled him to do anything in particular, so he supposed that like himself, his instincts were quiet and reserved.

“It is a measure of a stallion…” Igneous cleared his throat and then looked down at the floor while he spoke. “It is the measure of a stallion on how well he reins back his instincts. He can listen to a mare tell him ‘no’ and maintain his good behaviour. He can be trusted to do the right thing, to be honourable, to be good. Like Tarnish and Limestone—Tarnish values his relationship with Limestone… so much so that he chooses to see her as a sister, and he stands by that. This makes him a good pony.”

“But instincts might tell him to do other things with Limestone?” Sumac watched as Limestone squirmed, and he felt bad for her, but the question had already escaped.

With a slow nod, Igneous shuffled on his hooves. “Yes. Sometimes need overcomes reason and rational thought.”

Turning to look at Boomer and Megara, Sumac thought about instinct and learned behaviour. Friendship was, perhaps, an instinct among ponies, to keep the herd strong, but for others, it might be a learned behaviour. This in turn, made him think of his dream with Fluttershy, and the pretty, pretty butterfly. Instinct had told him to panic when falling, it had robbed him of reason, it had caused him to freak out and lose control of himself. His learned behaviour though, to be calm, to have control, his ability to override his instincts had allowed him to save himself.

And so it was with an immense feeling of satisfaction that Sumac realised that he had learned something.

Author's Note

Huzzah... sorry for the delay.

Chapter 32

Spicy gingerbread was the best kind of gingerbread and Pinkie Pie made the best gingerbread, because it sent one running for a glass of milk to wash it down. Unless you were brave, or stupid, or Sumac Apple—who was now just a little bit sweaty after eating the special gingerbread that Pinkie had made just for him. The first few bites hadn’t been so bad, but Pinkie had concocted a special recipe that had a slow burn of fiery intensity that grew with each nibble. It started off with sharp intake of breath, progressed to a reddened face, then a raised eyebrow, followed by near-panting, and eventually reached the sweaty Sumac phase.

Pebble had given up with a raised eyebrow and now nursed a glass of milk.

Even though the room was crowded with far too many ponies, it was still somehow quiet, though not dull. A second table had been set up and this was to be the foundation of their winter wonderland, their gingerbread village. The table had a wobble when they had started, but Tarnish had somehow grown the dead wood, giving it life, and making the table leg just a smidgen longer. It had made Sumac’s magic sense go crazy and the colt had a million questions he wanted to ask, because the magic had come from Tarnish’s hooves, not his horn.

But asking questions would disrupt the blessed quiet.

At random intervals, Maud snapped a picture and Sumac was surprised to learn that Maud was a photographer. He thought Vinyl was the shutterbug of the family, but he was mistaken, and Pinny Lane had showed him one of Maud’s photo albums. Maud took pictures of things she liked, so most of the photo album was filled with rocks, taken at sensible pedestrian angles, but hidden in the pages of rock photos, ponies could be seen, including a few of Pebble when she was younger.

Cups of cocoa were everywhere, along with spiced cider, tea, and coffee, all of which filled the air with a confusing jumble of aromas that Sumac couldn’t keep track of. The scent of gingerbread, spicy and fragrant, the sweet smell of the sticky, gooey icing, and the enchanting smell of wood burning in the fireplace—all of this would be forever ingrained in Sumac’s mind as the smell of the holidays. It was the smell of happiness, of security, safety, and peace.

When Lemon Hearts picked him up, Sumac couldn’t even find it within him to protest, and when he was pulled close he offered no resistance. Somepony laughed—a feminine sound—but Sumac couldn’t see who. Something warm and fuzzy brushed up against him, something not Lemon Hearts. After glancing around, Sumac saw that Trixie was now holding both him and Lemon Hearts. Trixie, who had a messy chocolate mustache from sipping cocoa.

Looking up at Lemon Hearts, he asked, “Are you in love?”

When Lemon Hearts nodded, he followed up with, “What’s it feel like?”

Lemon Hearts did not reply right away, but when she did, her words came slow. “It feels funny, and strange, and I’m happy, and I want everypony to be as happy as I am.”

“And you fell in love with your bully?” Sumac watched as Vinyl Scratch assembled a gingerbread clocktower. At least, he thought it was a clocktower.

“Oh, she’s changed quite a bit,” Lemon Hearts replied and she gave Sumac a squeeze for emphasis. “Ponies can change, Sumac, don’t you ever forget that. Olive changed. Trixie has changed. This is why we forgive and try not to hold grudges. If I held a grudge, why, I’d be hurting myself right now, because then I wouldn’t be as happy as I am.”

“What about Queen Chrysalis?”

“Well, that’s a little different, Sumac—”

“How so?” Lemon Heart’s sudden hesitation said much and told Sumac more than words could. The fact that she lacked a quick, snappy answer, the fact that she was thinking, it left Sumac wondering about what she might say when she finally found the words.

“Sumac,” Twinkleshine began, “there is a profound difference between forgiving your school bully and somepony”—she paused, blew a brief raspberry, and tried again—“some bug that has tried to murder you. You can forgive Chrysalis if you’d like, and that would be good of you, but she can’t be trusted. There is a big difference between giving somepony a second chance and allowing more hurt to happen.”

“What about Princess Luna?” Sumac asked and when he did, the gingerbread clocktower collapsed when Vinyl bumped it a bit too hard.

“Sumac…” Whatever it was that Trixie was about to say trailed off.

“Or Trixie… she held all of Ponyville captive.” Lifting his head, Sumac felt a powerful need to express himself. “What about my dad?”

“I had to forgive the entire town of Ponyville and Twilight Sparkle.” Tarnish’s voice was rough and scratchy. “Being banished for something that wasn’t my fault hurt me more than I’d like to admit. I still have moments when I’m angry about it. Sumac, forgiveness is complicated. There are no easy answers.”

“Princess Luna is forgiven because she’s shown a sincere desire to do good.”

Lemon Hearts’ words did not satisfy Sumac, for some unknown reason, and he thought about his father, who was now a tree. Flam Apple now had no desire to do anything, but offer shade and was now in some weird realm that went beyond forgiveness, but Sumac lacked the means to articulate his thoughts into something meaningful. There seemed to be a line that could be crossed, and once crossed, there was no return, no coming back to good graces. Queen Chrysalis, it seemed, had crossed that line, but Princess Luna had not. His father, Flam, no longer had a chance to earn forgiveness, so he too, had crossed some line, but Trixie had not.

“Forget I said anything,” Sumac whispered as he retreated within himself. “I don’t want to ruin everypony’s good time. We should talk about nicer stuff. I’m sorry.” With a sigh, he went silent so he could hear his own thoughts better, and zoned out. Much to his relief, the others gave him the quiet that he craved, and the subject, it seemed, was dropped.

“Megara…”

Tarnish’s words and the following meow pulled Sumac from his thoughts. The colt blinked a few times as he turned his head to have a better look at Tarnish. He’d been distracted for a while now and the gingerbread settlement had grown a good bit. Lemon Hearts was still holding him, and he was both warm and comfortable against her.

“Megara, we have to do something about those tusks.”

With his horn glowing, Tarnish pulled Megara to him and Sumac watched, waiting, wondering what the big brown unicorn was up to. Megara looked a little worried, maybe even a bit scared, but she was also trusting and did nothing to resist her father. And Tarnish was her father, of this, there could be no doubt. When he slipped a foreleg around her, the dark chocolate brown pelt they both shared was a perfect match.

“Those tusks are a bit dangerous, Meg. Let’s see if I can fix that.”

“Fix?” Megara turned her fiery orange eyes upon her father and her bristly whiskers quivered.

“Tarnish—”

With a wave of his hoof, Tarnish silenced Maud’s concerns and Maud, perhaps worried about whatever Tarnish had planned for Megara, leaned in close. Sumac couldn’t read Maud’s face, but he didn’t doubt Maud’s sense of motherhood. The mare’s ears were so perked, so rigid, Sumac had no doubt that they could be used as chisels against stone.

Cloudy too, seemed worried, and was now watching Tarnish’s every move with a scowl. It seemed that Cloudy liked her new granddaughter just the way she was. Tarnish, unconcerned about the sudden attention focused upon him, picked up two gumdrops, one red, one green, and his lips puckered in concentration whilst he focused upon his task. Saying nothing, he pushed the two gumdrops onto the sharp ends of Megara’s tusks, capping off the dangerous points, and then, with both his eyebrows arched, he studied his work.

Megara’s tail twitched as her eyes tried to focus on her new gumdrop-adorned tusks.

“I like it,” Tarnish announced as he gave his daughter a reassuring hug. “They’re festive.”

“Festive?” Megara wrapped her broad paws around one of her father’s forelegs.

“Yes, festive. They make you look pretty. Now, both you and Pebble look pretty.”

Rolling her eyes, Cloudy let out a snort and then went back to watching Limestone trying to shore up a gingerbread wall with more frosting. Sumac wasn’t sure why Cloudy was snorting, because Tarnish had done something nice and now, Megara was pretty—although Sumac thought she looked a bit silly, he wasn’t going to say it aloud. No way.

Feeling warm and drowsy, Sumac yawned and wiggled his front leg until it was in a somewhat more comfortable position. Reaching out with his magic, he fixed Limestone’s wall, making it straight, and pushing all of the frosting in to secure the base. She smiled, lifted her right front hoof, and licked some frosting off the edge of it. The wall, now secured, did not budge, but stood steady with its fellow walls.

Boomer, perhaps also feeling festive, snatched up a bright red gumdrop, lept from where she was sitting with Pinny Lane, landed on Tarnish’s back, clambered up the back of his neck, tickling him and causing him to shimmy while she ascended, and upon reaching the lofty heights of his head, skewered her gumdrop onto the tip of his horn. Perched between his ears, Boomer yawned, wrapped around his horn, her tail coiling tight in a secure grip, and then she promptly went to sleep.

“That needed to happen,” Maud deadpanned and her eyes met several others as she glanced around the room. “Try sleeping in the same bed as a couple of unicorns sometimes. Those things are sharp and snuggly unicorns are the worst.” As Maud finished speaking, she turned her intense stare upon Vinyl Scratch, and was ignored.

“There are worse things to be poked with in the bed,” Octavia remarked, and the adults began to snicker.

“Like what?” Sumac asked and he felt Lemon Hearts almost drop him.

“Never you mind.” Octavia’s eyes narrowed, but the corners of her mouth were pulled earwards in a wicked-looking grin.

“You silly looking.” Megara twisted her upper body around in a supple, boneless manner, and with her spine twisted in some impossible way, she examined her father with a studious look of feline seriousness.

Just looking at Megara made Sumac’s neck ache. Pony spines didn’t bend that way, and neither should anything else, because it was just unnatural. Cringing, Sumac tried to turn away, but found that he couldn’t, as some mysterious force compelled him to keep looking. Whatever it was, it had to be evil, because each moment spent in observance was pure torture.

“Are you happy, Meg?” Tarnish tugged on his foreleg that Megara was clinging to and gave her a gentle shake. “I mean, this is a lot to take in, and the house is crowded, and you’re still adjusting to everything, and I didn’t expect for it to be this crowded, so I’m kinda worried about how you’re doing—”

“Me fine,” Megara said, cutting off her father mid-sentence. “Pebble no bite me.”

“Pebble doesn’t bite you?” Tarnish appeared confused for a moment and Boomer let out a smoky snort when his pivoting ears brushed up against her. “Oh… oh, right, right… your other brothers and sisters… they, uh, bit you. They were mean. Pebble’s just snarky and sarcastic, like her mother, and her grandmother—”

“Hey!” Cloudy interjected as she peered at Tarnish over the top of her eyeglasses.

“—but thankfully Pebble is not a biter.”

Pebble, with a sleepy, or perhaps bored expression that matched her mother’s, watched this exchange but said nothing.

Reaching out with her wings, the tiny thumbs protruding from her wing-knuckles flexing, Megara wrapped them around her father and clung to him, her tail making lazy slashes from side to side. The razor-sharp claws at the end of her paw-fingers extended for a moment, becoming visible, but no harm was done to Tarnish.

“Sumac runt now. Megara big.”

“I’m not a runt!” Sumac sucked in a deep breath, indignant, and repeated himself. “I am not a runt!” This was an outrage. He was many things, but a runt wasn’t one of them.

“Megara no bite, no chew. Look after runt. Megara not bad. Megara do good?”

Simmering, Sumac gnawed on his lower lip, but said nothing else. Megara was good and he wasn’t about to make her think otherwise, because who knows what that might do to her. His pride was a bitter, hard lump when he swallowed it, but swallow it he did, because it was the right thing to do. But he wasn’t a runt. Like Tarnish, he was a galloper with a lithe body made for traversing entire continents.

Eyes glowing like two burning embers, Megara continued to be horrible-adorable and Sumac found it harder and harder to remain angry with her for calling him a runt. What made her eyes glow like that, he wondered. It had to be some kind of manticore magic, and it was magic because he could sense it. Megara had magic, of a sort, of a kind, but Sumac didn’t know a thing about it, only that it existed.

“Megara, you’re doing just fine and you’re fitting in. I think. I’m not a good one to judge about fitting in.” Leaning over, Maud leaned against Tarnish and tilted her head down to look at Megara. “This is weird, Tarnish.”

“How so, Maud?”

“I love her so much I can’t stand it. Just as much as I do Pebble. I think I’m hormonal.”

“Oh boy, here we go again.” Limestone ducked as her mother took a swipe at her and then turned to stare at Cloudy with wide, defiant eyes. “Look, all I’m saying is, Maud got a little strange the last time she was hormonal—”

“Limestone!”

“Well she did!” Limestone fended off her mother’s hoof, slapping it away, bobbing and weaving, chuckling while her mother poked and prodded at her.

Sumac could see it was all done in fun.

“We have visitors,” Tarnished announced as the alarm chimes sounded through the house. “I wasn’t expecting visitors. I’ll be right back.” Disentangling himself from Megara, the tall, lanky unicorn departed to answer the door with a look of deep concern that left his face wrinkled. “Who could possibly show up unexpected and unannounced? When will ponies get the hint that I want to be left alone? I swear, I’m gonna put up a sign! Salesponies will be cactused!”

“Tarnish, stop conjugating nouns or you’ll set off Lemon Hearts again.” Twinkleshine too, got up and followed after Tarnish, her horn glowing with a dangerous, brilliant intensity as it charged. “She doesn’t want Sumac learning your noun conjugating ways, you chocolate ruffian.”

Laughing, Tarnish got the last word as he and Twinkleshine vanished from view. “That’s not the worst thing I could teach little Sumac!”

Author's Note

This chapter has an intense amount of callbacks to previous chapters and even other stories. Have fun.

Chapter 33

A tall night blue stallion filled the doorway, flanked by two mares, one smaller, one taller, and the trio were still bundled up. It took Sumac a few seconds to realise who these ponies were, and he was shocked to see Dandelia’s towering form squeezed into the kitchen doorway with Night Light and Twilight Velvet. Hearing a gasp, he guessed that it came from Trixie and the colt wondered if trouble was about to start.

“Beatrix… you look well.”

“Step away from my father, so he won’t get covered with your ashes,” Trixie replied in a gritty deadpan and Sumac could hear an ominous stereo crackle coming from behind him.

“Trixie…”—Dandelia’s voice was pleading, but also haughty—“holiday cease-fire. A truce, if you please. I didn’t come to cause trouble and I pledge to be on my best behaviour. I didn’t want to actually come, but my therapist said I should make the attempt. Night Light and Twilight Velvet brought me here, rather against my will. I tried to tell them that you would not be happy to see me.”

Tarnish, fearless, stepped in front of Dandelia, unconcerned by the potential of violence that seemed as though it was about to happen. “Okay, everypony out of the kitchen. Let’s give them a little together time. Come on, all of you. Pebble, you too.”

“But Sumac needs—”

“No buts.” With one raised hoof, Tarnish cut his daughter off. “Everypony out.” Turning about, Tarnish drew himself up to his full height, and he towered over Dandelia. Looking down at her, his ears pricked upwards and his neck muscles tensed. “You… you’re a guest in my home. Trixie and her household are my guests, under my protection. If you do anything to hurt them… if you do anything to anger me, I will make every single plant in the world hate your guts… and that’s bad news for a herbivore, lemme tell you.”

Sumac saw Dandelia’s ears droop, and suddenly she didn’t seem quite so haughty.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming!” Tarnish now sounded cheerful and he relaxed his rigid posture a bit. “There’s hot cocoa, tea, and coffee. Feel free to help yourself. Make yourselves at home.”

With that, Tarnish strode away and Pebble followed, hot on his heels.

The long, rectangular package wrapped in colourful holiday paper served as a terrible distraction for Sumac and he kept making sidelong glances in its direction. There had been hugs, and hellos, an apology or two, and now, Lemon Hearts was stroking Trixie, no doubt with the hopes of calming the frustrated mare down.

“Sumac, how have you been? How are you feeling?” Twilight Velvet reached out with her magic and Sumac found himself pulled closer by a gentle, irresistible force. “I’ve been so worried about you, and I’ve wanted to come and see you, but things have been so busy. I’m so sorry that I’ve been neglectful.”

“Sorry?” Sumac allowed himself to be hugged and truth be told, he didn’t mind. At the moment, he was still a bit shook up from the shock of seeing Dandelia, and it was nice to be in Twilight Velvet’s comforting embrace.

“We’re family, you and I, of a sort. Night Light could be considered your grandfather, you know. I know that he would like to be, because he’s talked about it.”

When Sumac glanced over in the package’s direction, he saw that Night Light had embraced Trixie, and she was trembling while she clung to his neck. He worried for a moment and wanted to rush to his mother’s side, but then he reached the conclusion that she probably needed this to happen. When he looked in Dandelia’s direction, he saw that she stood alone with a sad expression upon her face. Pity overcame his resentment, and Sumac squirmed, not knowing what to feel or what to do.

The package didn’t seem quite so important.

Lowering her head down, Twilight Velvet placed her muzzle near to Sumac’s ear and began to whisper, “Dandelia has been getting therapy. It is part of why I stay so busy. She’s actually been sticking to it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if she would. I am proud of her, Sumac, because she is making a sincere, earnest effort to change. Mister Teapot is a helpful pony… he’s given her something to talk about during her next few visits, methinks.”

“Tarnish is the reason why I don’t wanna grow up and be a pirate.”

“Oh…” Twilight Velvet gasped the word and while blinking, she nodded a few times. “That would be wise, Sumac. How do you like staying with Mister Teapot? How are you holding up? Is this overwhelming for you?”

“A little,” Sumac responded, and his ear twitched from the constant tickle of Twilight Velvet’s breathing. “I like having a big family around, but it does get to be a bit much. Sometimes I need quiet time, or time to myself. When there are too many ponies in one room, all my senses just get overloaded.”

“That happens, Sumac.” Twilight Velvet cleared her throat, gave Sumac a squeeze, and then asked, “Sumac, can you tell me about your special magic sense? I know it was bothering you a whole lot just before you were foalnapped. How is it now? Does it give you much trouble?”

“Do I think that changelings are hiding in every shadow and are waiting to foalnap me again?” Sumac shook his head and something in his neck popped, causing him to wince. His vision blurred for a moment, the tears came fast, but he held them in, defiant of the sudden pain. “I sense things sometimes, and yes, sometimes I get overwhelmed by my magic sense. I don’t know what is going on around me, everything is confusing sometimes, but I am aware that I am being watched.”

“Sumac, there are Wardens in Ponyville… a small number. They are watching over you, but not to worry, they will keep their distance, remain utterly unseen, and you will have your privacy, as much as we can give you. I put my hoof down and insisted that you be told.”

“Thank you.” Sumac drew in a deep breath, and then said again, “Thank you.”

“You’re a big colt, Sumac, and mature for your age. I think being honest, open, and upfront with you is the best policy. You’re no little scaredy-colt, no, you’re big, and strong, and brave. You’ve walked the length and breadth of Equestria with Trixie and you’re a canny colt for your age.”

Flattered, Sumac blushed and then found himself looking over in Dandelia’s direction once more. She looked sad, Dandelia, and Sumac felt sad looking at her. He thought about forgiveness, and the brief conversation that took place earlier… of which no conclusion had been reached. Now, those few words spoken seemed far more important and Sumac wished that he knew what to do.

“You know, Sumac Apple… there are monsters. Hidden ones. Dreadful ones.”

“Yeah?” Sumac knew this, but he wondered what Twilight Velvet was getting at.

“Monsters like tribalism, prejudice, and abuse. These are the hardest monsters to fight. Monsters like these kept poor Trixie on the road and haunted her every step. Right now, they are ripping poor Dandelia apart. Only the bravest ponies try to face these monsters.”

Sumac’s tongue darted out for a moment, circling over his lips, and all of muscles that moved his ears tightened into a far-too-tight state. He gave thought to the words of Twilight Velvet while staring at Dandelia, and knew this was heading towards some conclusion, perhaps some lesson, but he wasn’t sure what. The tension of the moment caused his belly muscles to clench tight and he wondered what might be expected of him.

“Your friendship and love of Trixie gave her the courage she needed to face the monsters of her past. Now look at her, Sumac. She is in love, and she is loved. Trixie is settling down, putting down roots… she has responsibilities. Now she even has the courage to make friends with those she once wronged, and it is all because she learned friendship from you.”

“Oh.” Sumac’s ears splayed out sideways.

“You were little, helpless, and cute. Being so small and helpless, you depended upon her for everything. You didn’t judge her, or bring up her past, and because of this, she was able to open up her heart to you. You were safe, Sumac. Non-threatening.”

Sumac knew that nothing about him was remotely threatening, and it was Discord that had said why. He was bland—beige—and there was nothing at all exciting about Sumac. As far as ponies went, Sumac was yawn-inducing. He tore his eyes away from Dandelia—a feat that took all of his willpower—and when he looked over at his mother, he saw that she was crying, but also smiling. Was she happy? Lemon Hearts was rubbing her back and Trixie was clinging to Night Light’s neck, sitting on the same cushion as he was. It was a tender moment that made Sumac feel awkward to witness. Trixie was happy, he decided, and with a turn of his head, he studied his estranged grandmother, Dandelia.

She was not happy.

“Help me up,” he murmured to Twilight Velvet.

The wise, middle-aged mare said nothing while she assisted Sumac, setting him on his hooves. A quick deep breath was in order, along with screwing his courage to the sticking place, and Sumac set off to do the work required of good ponies everywhere. Reaching out with his mind, he willed a cushion to come to him, a large one, and he began his slow, solemn march to where Dandelia was standing.

Her expression was unreadable, unfathomable to Sumac, some unknown mess of emotions.

“Sit with me.” This was not a question and Sumac tossed the cushion down at Dandelia’s front hooves. Behind him, there were a few gasps, sharp intakes of breath, but he ignored them. He had trouble looking up, Dandelia was far too tall and his neck didn’t want to bend that way, not without the pressure becoming uncomfortable and his knees knocking.

Dandelia was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger, and Sumac found this nerve-wracking. He waited as she stood there, and for a time, Sumac was certain that she might say something about soiling herself with a commoner’s cushion. Not a word was said though, much to his relief, and she sat down on the cushion. Before he could try to clamber up with her, he found himself lifted, surrounded by magic of immense, terrifying power. The back of Sumac’s mind reflected upon the fact that so much trust had to be given to unicorns with terrific magical abilities.

He was unceremoniously plopped down between Dandelia’s forelegs and he tumbled against her. She caught him, cradling his neck with her elbow, and Sumac steeled his nerves to deal with this arduous mental task. Sumac made the dreadful mistake of looking at his mother and her terrified face unnerved him. Trixie had redoubled her grip on Night Light and maddened fear made her eyes glimmer in some manic, dangerous way. Sumac knew that at this moment, he was a shield for Dandelia and he remembered all too well the time that Trixie had opened fire upon her mother. Twilight had prevented it, she had blocked the shot, but Twilight was not here now.

Now began the impossible task of making meaningful conversation with a stranger, or, small talk, at least. Sumac had no idea what to say, and watching his mother as she freaked out wasn’t helping, so he closed his eyes to shut out the distracting sight. He also had to be careful about what he said, because the wrong words might compel Dandelia into doing something she otherwise wouldn’t. Then again… would it really be so bad—so wrong—to inspire Dandelia to do well in therapy?

This was a moral conundrum, but Sumac wasn’t sure what a conun was, or how one beat a drum with it.

Sumac settled on a more neutral course of action and wondered how his own words might affect him. “You know,” he began, his voice a low whisper, “I think I might need therapy.”

Dandelia was in no way patronising when she replied, “Do you really think so?”

“I was foalnapped by bugs. When I was in a centaur vault, I did something dumb, but I don’t think I can talk about what I did. At night, when I sleep, I have scary dreams about falling and being spanked. I worry constantly about being a sissy and there is a lot of pressure on me for me to do good, to do right. I suppose a lot of foals have pressure to do good, but my dad was a bad pony, and so was my mom, so there is extra pressure on me to do good because they went bad.”

Too late, Sumac realised how this might sound to Dandelia and he had himself a mighty cringe.

“There’s a lot of pressure on me too,” Dandelia responded, her voice no more than low, breathy whisper. “I’m pretty sure that Beatrix went bad because of what I did… because I was a spineless wretch that wouldn’t stand up to her own father. And now, she suffers doubly because I’m seen as a bad pony, as well as the fact that she has a sordid past, and it is only now that I am starting to understand how much pressure that puts on her. I have a harder time understanding her now than I have ever had in the past. Lately, I’ve been very depressed because I don’t see how she manages to thrive the way she does under all of this pressure… which is something I can’t seem to do. I keep falling back into old habits.”

“It takes three of us to keep her sorted out.” As Sumac spoke these words, Twinkleshine snorted, Lemon Hearts rolled her eyes, and somehow, Trixie managed to make a quivery-lipped watery-eyed smile. “She falls back into old habits too. When the pressure is on and she’s emotional, she becomes the Great and Powerful Trixie again and she talks funny. We don’t tease her too much during these times though, and I think it is well understood between myself, Lemon, and Twinkle that Trixie needs a little extra attention during these times.”

“Oh.” Dandelia sighed out her monosyllabic utterance, nodded, and gave Sumac a squeeze. “I see.”

“Sometimes, I’m a real snot, and I throw tantrums. Can you believe that?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, it’s true.” Sumac felt his cheeks grow warm and his ears were far too hot. He was unable to tell if Dandelia was being silly or serious, so he continued, uncertain of where he was going with the jumbled thoughts in his head. “My worst tantrums come when I need to blow off steam. Most of the time, I hold it all in until just the right moment when I am alone with the ponies that I trust the most, and then it all comes boiling out. They sort me out and my tantrum runs its course and then everything is okay again. See, the thing is, I have to trust them to keep loving me even though I’m a total snot… and sometimes I say things.” Ears sagging, Sumac thought of some of the things he had said to Dandelia in the past and felt ashamed.

“That’s the problem, Sumac… I had a tantrum and I said things to Trixie.”

“Yeah, and when you tried to say you’re sorry, you sounded like a haughty assho—”

“Sumac!” Lemon Hearts’ sharp interjection caused the colt’s ears to pin back in submission.

“When you say you’re sorry, you can’t hold yourself above somepony,” Sumac said, ignoring Lemon’s angry outburst. “Like when Trixie says she’s sorry to me, she doesn’t act like she’s my mom or anything like that. She’s not in charge, because she’s screwed up. She can’t be bossy or demanding, she has to come to me and say she’s sorry, pony to pony. If you talk down to the pony you’re saying sorry to, it will just make everything even more horrible and awful, because nothing is worse than saying you’re sorry and not meaning it.”

“Sounds like you have experience,” Dandelia whispered into Sumac’s ear.

“I’ve thrown a lot of tantrums.”

“Does it ever feel like nopony could ever possibly love you after you’ve thrown a tantrum?”

Dandelia’s words struck home for Sumac, and he couldn’t answer right away. First, he had to swallow the ginormous lump in his throat and then blink away the sting of tears. “All the time. It’s the worst feeling in the world and I sulk because fixing everything feels impossible. But when I finally swallow my pride and make things right, it’s such a relief.”

“I think I know what to give Beatrix for Hearth’s Warming.”

Intrigued, Sumac asked, “What?”

“A heartfelt apology. Thank you, Sumac. I mean that with all my heart.”

Author's Note

Soon.

Chapter 34

Sumac, now alone on the cushion that he had shared with Dandelia, thought about what he had said. Lots of ‘I statements’ and mentions of himself. Overall, he had kept the focus on him, or so he felt, and not so much on Dandelia. Whatever conclusions that Dandelia had arrived at, he hoped that she had done so on her own, and was satisfied that he had done right.

The Lady of Lulamoon Hollow didn’t seem haughty as she approached Night Light and Trixie, but cautious, fearful, apprehensive, and anxious. She kept her head down, her ears back, and her proud neck bent. Midway, she froze, and Sumac watched while she shuddered. This was a different mare than he had first met, or perhaps a mare in transition. She was changing, and while perhaps not yet done, the promise of something better could be seen if one squinted and looked at it in just the right way.

Lemon Hearts had her mouth covered with one front hoof and seemed to be holding her breath, while Twinkleshine seemed cool, indifferent. Night Light made a gesture with his hoof, beckoning Dandelia to come a little bit closer, and for a long, painful moment, it seemed as though the elder Lulamoon’s nerve might break. Sumac, a helpful, encouraging sort when the right mood struck him, reached out with his telekinesis and gave his grandmother a right and proper shove on her backside.

She screeched in alarm, lost her balance, stumbled forwards, tried to stop, couldn’t, tripped over her own gangly front legs, and tumbled down onto the already crowded cushion with Trixie and Night Light. For a moment, Sumac was almost certain that the three ponies couldn’t, wouldn’t fit, but fit they did somehow, with Night Light dragging Dandelia closer and getting a good grip around her middle with his foreleg. She kicked and wiggled all four of her legs, indignant, protesting her rough treatment, but Night Light just grunted and stuck to his task.

When Twilight Velvet shot him a wink, Sumac grinned and felt rather proud of himself.

Like Tarnish, Dandelia was all legs, while Trixie had shorter, stouter legs much like her father. With all three of them close together, the family resemblance was far too obvious, undeniable, inescapable. Without warning, the most peculiar thing happened: Dandelia began laughing, a bizarre whooping guffaw that sounded far too big and far too boisterous to be coming from such a cultured, well-refined mare. First one eyebrow raised, then the other, and Sumac stared at the three ponies on a cushion, dumbstruck by Dandelia’s peals of laughter.

“Nighty was the only pony who could ever make her laugh like that,” Twilight Velvet remarked, her tone wistful and her unfocused eyes made her appear to be lost in the past. “In school, he could bring her out of her worst moods and put a smile on her face. Sometimes, I’d get jealous of Nighty because I couldn’t make her laugh… not like that, anyway.”

Sumac wondered where Boomer was, because he wanted somepony to hug, but she was gone, no doubt sleeping on somepony, or maybe she had followed Megara. Alone on his cushion, he watched as Dandelia and Trixie were held pressed together by Night Light, and though he could not say why, the little colt felt hopeful. Something about Dandelia’s laughter was reassuring, and he thought about Pinkie Pie for some reason, her insistence that laughter made everything better.

Perhaps this was the reason why Queen Chrysalis was beyond redemption, beyond forgiveness: Sumac had trouble seeing her making a humble request to be forgiven. He thought of Starlight Glimmer, then of his former antagonist who was now his friend, Olive, and his mind tried to recall all of Twilight Sparkle’s lessons on friendship—all at once.

Olive had done right when it mattered most, but would Dandelia do the same?

When it mattered, Trixie did right, so Sumac decided that Dandelia was capable of doing the same. After all, Trixie got it from somewhere, and it couldn’t just be from Night Light. Caper—though an awful pony—was said to do good things, and Trixie had done great things, so why couldn’t Dandelia? Perhaps Dandelia just needed ponies who believed in her, like Night Light and Twilight Velvet already did, so Sumac chose to believe in her, because somepony had to.

Ears pricking and standing tall, Sumac couldn’t quite make out the soft words being said, but he was pretty sure that Dandelia was apologising. Trixie was holding her mother’s fetlock in her own, her ears were down, and Sumac could spy no aggression upon his mother’s face. More words were said, from Trixie this time, but again, Sumac was unable to make them out. His ears pivoted and angled forwards, but he was only able make out a few jumbled phrases from Dandelia, who spoke again, something about a promise being made to stick it out even if things felt impossible.

Turning around once, then twice, Sumac then laid down in a heap of stubby legs and watched as this precious moment took on a life of its own.

With Night Light involved, it seemed as though Dandelia and Trixie were getting along. Twilight Velvet had dropped another log into the fireplace, which now popped, crackled, and spat out showers of sparks as pockets of pitch within the bark ignited. Sumac was distracted by the flames, which he liked to watch, and staring at them made him recall fond memories of life on the road with Trixie.

“So you’re getting married?” Dandelia’s voice was a little creaky and while Sumac’s eyes remained focused upon the fire, his ears pivoted so that he might listen better.

“Yes, Mother, I am.” Trixie’s voice sounded guarded to Sumac, and he waited.

“Good… good. Don’t isolate yourself. Don’t be lonely. You can see how it’s worked out for me.”

“Mother, it isn’t too late,” Trixie replied while casting a sidelong glance at Night Light that Sumac did not see.

Dandelia laughed, a shrill, nervous, frightened sound, and she waved her hoof from side to side in a dismissive gesture. “I need to sort myself out first… Beatrix… I don’t even know who I am. I spent so long trying to be the mother that I imagined that Caper would want me to be, the daughter that I thought would make him happy, and the noble that I was expected to be. Now, he’s gone and I don’t know how to live with myself. Who am I supposed to be now?”

Sighing, Sumac understood these words. As a sorcerer, it seemed as though everypony expected him to be something, save for maybe Pebble. No doubt, Pebble had other plans for him and Sumac had a vague understanding that she had hopes and dreams that cared nothing for his sorcery. As an earth pony, she had far more practical concerns. In a moment of insight, Sumac gained some glimmer of understanding into Tarnish and Maud’s relationship, which he thought about while staring into the roaring fire.

“I’ve brought a gift—”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Unseen by Sumac, Trixie’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed tight.

“Actually, I did have to do this,” Dandelia said, her voice shrill with nervous energy. “My therapist wanted me to do a little holiday shopping as an exercise in empathy. Gifts that show an understanding of the recipient and their desires. Presents that aren’t subtle manipulations or passive-aggressive suggestions of my own wants and desires. I’ll confess, this stumped me for a while, and I had to turn to Twilight Velvet for help, because I wanted to find a gift to make you happy.”

“Trixie has all that she needs.”

This pulled Sumac’s attention away from the fire and when he glanced in his mother’s direction, he could sense her anxiety.

“Trixie has everything that she needs from the ponies that she trusts.”

“I had no idea what to get you and I fretted over this assignment for the longest time. Even with Twilight Velvet’s help, it seemed that everything I could think of would be seen as passive-aggressive suggestion or something I wanted for you to have that you might not be interested in. I didn’t know what you were interested in. But then after a really intense therapy session, I thought of something we both have in common—”

“And what could that possibly be?” Trixie deadpanned.

“We’re both parents,” Dandelia replied, her voice cracking. “I… I wanted better things for you… there’s a lot of things I wanted, but mistakes were made. I made mistakes. Those mistakes were made by me. But deep down, I wanted the best for you, Kiddo, I really, truly did. When I thought about this, what we have in common, I had an idea that if I could make Sumac happy, I could make you happy, because a mother wants what is best.”

Before Trixie could respond, it was Lemon Hearts who had something to say and Sumac listened to the soothing sound of the yellow mare’s voice with attentive interest.

“That is insightful. Good for you, Dandelia.”

“I think you actually mean that.” Confused, Dandelia’s ears fell, and she leaned up against Night Light for support. “Because I’m so sarcastic and cynical, I project parts of myself onto others and I have a really hard time knowing when others are sincere. Caper certainly wasn’t sincere… he was cruel and liked to keep me guessing. T-t-thank you… Miss Hearts.”

Sumac’s eyes darted to the long package on the table, where they lingered for a time, and then he resumed staring into the fire, as was his wont. The fire had its own faint source of magic, a connection to the Infernium. This made the fire a source of heat, light, and magic. Vinyl too, had a connection to the Infernium, as well as the typical sources from which unicorns drew their magic, and this made her powerful. Distracted, Sumac did not notice the silent exchange between his mother and his grandmother, which ended with Dandelia pleading her case.

“Beatrix, please… this means a lot to me. I had to figure out what Sumac likes… what his interests are. I had to talk to other ponies… I had to explain myself and defend myself and even apologise for past actions. Talking to Twilight Sparkle was, well, Twilight made me work for it and she didn’t make it easy. Twilight Sparkle raked me over the coals and Twilight Velvet let her.”

“Come on, Trixie, be reasonable.” It was Twinkleshine who said this and Sumac, though surprised by her outburst, remained silent.

“I dunno—”

“Trixie Lulamoon!” Lemon’s voice was sharp, commanding, and entirely unlike her usual, demure, soft-spoken, gentle words that she typically shared. “I want to remind you of just how downtrodden you’ve felt in the past when you made a huge effort to be a better pony and it felt like nopony noticed.”

“Oh, sure, Lemon, use that against me,” Trixie huffed and while Sumac did not see the way she rolled her eyes, he could hear the defeat in her voice. “Trixie too has been raked over the coals by Twilight Sparkle, and knows that pain. Twilight Sparkle only coal-rakes ponies that she cares about, otherwise she can’t be bothered. Her time is too scarce and too precious to waste.”

“Twilight got me too,” Sumac added, hoping he could help. “You know, one of Twilight’s foalhood friends is now a dentist—”

Twinkleshine nodded. “Minuette.”

“—and Twilight is known to subjugate others with a smile and some kind words. It can’t be coincidence. Twilight’s smile is a weapon forged by unicorn magic.”

“Wait…” Dandelia’s raised hoof lingered in the air, just like her monosyllabic outburst. “Where does a foal learn the word ‘subjugate?’ Sumac, Grandkiddo, is there some grand aspiration that you wish to tell your Grandmare about?” Dandelia smirked and it was the same smirk that Trixie often wore.

“Pebble said she was gonna spend the rest of her life subjugating me and sorting me out. I had to look it up to be certain, but I had a pretty good guess as to what it meant.”

“Oh.” Dandelia blinked a few times, confused, and Twilight Velvet began to snicker.

“There are worse fates.” While Night Light said these words, Lemon Hearts nodded, her head bobbing up and down, and Twilight Velvet shot her husband a wry grin.

All of this happened without Sumac’s awareness, since the colt was lost to the mesmerising, dancing flames. He thought about Pebble, wishing she was here, not just here, but on the cushion with him, because she was warm, soft, and nice to cuddle with. Not that he would ever confess such a thing or say it aloud, no. He wondered what Dandelia might secretly like but would never confess to and without knowing it happened, a crazed grin appeared on Sumac’s face. Like so many other unicorns, Sumac was developing a habit of grinning at inopportune moments.

So lost was Sumac that he did not hear Twilight Velvet whisper to Trixie, “Keep an eye out for symptoms of pyromania, because it can be treated if diagnosed early enough.”

“Trixie feels that pyromania should be encouraged,” she deadpanned while looking Twilight Velvet in the eye. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not suffer from pyromania, but rather enjoys every moment of it. She has a Great and Powerful Fireball that gets her the respect she so rightfully deserves.”

“Every filly should have a hobby.” Dandelia, still holding fetlocks with her daughter, gave it a squeeze. “That Trixie has a Great and Powerful Fireball says much about her ability, given that she is predisposed to illusion magics.”

“Thank you, Mother, that was kind of you to say.”

“Say…” Night Light interjected while raising his eyebrow. “How about we let Sumac open his gift… early. So Dandelia can enjoy the rewards of her hard work.”

“I am not adverse…” Trixie pulled her mother closer, hesitated for a moment, and then leaned in a little more. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Dandy Lion.”

It was with great anticipation that Sumac willed his telekinesis to wrap around the long, heavy box. It was solid, very much so, and had no give to it. Surrounded by those he loved, and those who loved him on all sides, Sumac wondered what might be in the box. Why, it could be anything. It was too big, too ungainly for him to manipulate on his own, and he could feel his magic intermingling with those who offered eager assistance.

After taking a cursory moment to admire the shiny, gleaming blue, green, and gold wrapping paper, Sumac tore into it, overcome with curiousity. Peeling it away, he saw polished wood beneath it, along with brass hinges. No wonder it was heavy, it came in a stately wooden box. With a few tugs, the wrapping paper slid off and Sumac was left with a long wooden box that had his name burned onto the lid in fine, scrawling letters. Most curious of all was one addition.

Sumac Apple Lulamoon.

Behind him, Sumac did not see the sudden mistiness that overcame his mother’s eyes, nor did he witness how Dandelia, his grandmother, slipped one long, lanky foreleg over Trixie’s withers so that she might hold her closer. It took a few tries, but the brass latches were unlocked and then, the box was opened.

The first thing Sumac saw was a vivid shade of apple-green velvet. As for the second, it took his breath away, rendering him dumbstruck and unable to respond. An unstrung recurve bow lay upon a velvet bed, along with a curious gleaming metal tube and assorted parts. Confused, Sumac could not make out what the extra parts were, nor could he discern the purpose of the tube. But the recurve bow itself… Sumac was in love.

“What’s all the extra stuff?” Twinkleshine asked, sparing Sumac the trouble of possibly sounding rude.

“It’s a blowgun attachment,” Night Light replied while nodding his head in a knowing manner. “You clip the blowgun to the bow, secure it into place, and connect the bow string to a little knob on the cylinder. When you pull back, it sucks a tiny dart back and then when you let go, there is a big whoosh and the dart is fired because the cylinder compresses.”

“That seems incredibly dangerous.” Twinkleshine turned to look Night Light right in the eye. “I like it. This is awesome.”

“Maybe a little too, um, awesome?” Lemon Hearts reached out and grabbed Twinkleshine by the leg and gave her a gentle tug. “You’ll be volunteering all of the necessary time for adult supervision, correct?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Twinkleshine nodded, her ears bobbing, and her pastel pink mane fell down over her face. “Does that mean I get to play with it too?”

“Not a toy.” Behind Sumac, Lemon Hearts gave the pearlescent unicorn beside her a sour look.

“You’re right!” Twinkleshine grinned as Trixie groaned and Sumac lifted the bow out of the box. “There’s no way that Big Mac can accuse Sumac of being a sissy now. Look at this thing… look at how well it’s made. Composite materials, a fine finish, this was made to kill stuff!”

“Twinkle…” Trixie said, almost whining.

“Wait, what’s this about being a sissy?” Night Light demanded.

“Oh nothing—”

“Beatrix, I’d like to know.” Night Light gave Trixie a squeeze while Sumac began to examine his gift with his fine eye for detail.

“Big Mac worries that Sumac will be a sissy if he’s raised by three mares—”

“What?” Night Light blinked a few times, in shock, and his head tilted off to one side. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Dandelia, watch what you say!” Twilight Velvet warned right as the sunny orange mare was taking a deep breath. Perhaps fearing that Dandelia might still run her mouth, Twilight Velvet, being a good and dear friend, poked her in the ribs for good measure, causing her to deflate with a pained gasp.

Looking wounded and betrayed, Dandelia rubbed her side but said nothing.

“For a time, I taught fencing in Celestia’s school.” Night Light’s voice had a faint waver to it. “Civic duty… I felt it was necessary to share what I had learned in school. I had Twinkleshine as a student… and… and—”

Twinkleshine blushed so hard that she became a pink unicorn from hoof to ear.

“—every colt in school wanted to be her. Mostly due to the terrifying belching she does, but also the fencing, the running, her athleticism, and her raw, unbridled aggression. I don’t worry about Sumac becoming a sissy around her, I worry that he’ll become a savage, hot-tempered brute—”

“HEY!” Twinkleshine snapped while she turned her narrowed eyes upon Night Light.

“No offense, dear, but you have a well-deserved reputation. You’re the Powder Puff Terror.”

“I’m still a lady!” Twinkleshine puffed out, a trembling mass of angry, clean white fuzz that made the air around her reek with ozone. “I am still delicate, and dainty, and feminine, and pretty, and girly—”

“Yes,” Night Light said, cutting her off, “but you also have a big axe as I recall and you learned circular breathing not for music, but to hone your offensive magic. Everypony thought you’d go into the guard or maybe join the Guardian’s Guild.”

“Too sweaty, dirty, and gross.” Twinkleshine polished her hoof against her chest scruffle and let out a dainty, demure snort. “I like being clean and beautiful.”

Buoyed by adult conversation, Sumac weighed in with the following: “She’s teaching me how to burp. She came into the kitchen one day and just destroyed Tarnish. I think he was scarred by what happened.”

Dandelia was about to say something, but was slugged in the ribs again by Twilight Velvet. The big orange mare facehoofed instead, keeping whatever she was about to say to herself, and her lifelong friend, Twilight Velvet, smiled a calm smile of peaceful gentleness. Meanwhile, Night Light and Twinkleshine continued to stare at one another, neither giving in to the other.

Sumac was just happy to have his bow.

“We can’t stay too much longer,” Twilight Velvet said while she caressed Sumac on his back. “I promised Spike that we’d do some extreme tobogganing together and Twilight has cleared a bit of space on her schedule to see us. I’m looking forward to strapping Dandelia to a sled and getting her to try new things. Spike says he’s found the perfect place and I can’t wait to see what sort of near-death experience we’re going to have today.”

“Dandy Lion goes under protest!”

“Dandy Lion goes where she is told and will follow her therapy plan, as she promised.” Twilight Velvet waved a hoof in her friend’s direction and her peaceful smile became a little more pronounced—extra-peaceful, as it were.

While the adults around him were acting like loons, Sumac remembered his manners. “Thank you for the bow, it means a lot to me.”

“Oh!” Twilight Velvet gasped and clapped Dandelia right on the spine, causing the big mare to pitch forwards. “It is just a little something from all of us. Dandelia went through a lot of trouble to reach this point and I am positive that she appreciates your gratitude.”

“Yes”—the orange mare nodded whilst recovering from the solid blow—“I do. I have accomplished what I had believed to be an impossible task. My best friends dragged me from start to finish and told me they believed in me. I honestly did not believe that this day would happen.”

“Don’t give up, Dandy.” Sumac struggled, squirming on his cushion, until somepony turned him around so that he might have a better look at the orange mare behind him. Knowing what he was doing, Sumac suffered no sense of doubt when he repeated himself, “Don’t give up, Dandy.”

“Before all of you have to go”—Lemon Hearts paused for a moment before making her suggestion—“let us all get a picture together. As family. I want Sumac to remember this, because this is his first Hearth’s Warming not spent in a wagon on the road. I want this to be special.”

“Yes! A photo!” Twilight Velvet nodded.

“Somepony go find Boomer!”

“And a camera!”

“Quick, somepony fix Sumac’s mane, it was never brushed this morning! Erase the evidence of bad parenting!”

Sighing, smiling, Sumac prepared for a picture-perfect finish for this holiday get-together.

Author's Note

A lot happened, which is the reason for the delay in any sort of progress at all. Multiple doctor appointments, a pill for nightmares that caused nightmares, multiple falls while sleepwalking, more appointments, and feeling terrible from falling. It messed me up pretty bad. I didn't think I'd ever get this chapter finished.

Chapter 35

“Did you have a nice visit with your grandmare?” Pebble asked while Sumac lowered a gingerbread roof down upon a gingerbread schoolhouse filled with gumdrop students. “I was worried the whole time. Father was pacing the floor and Octavia got fed up with him moping and she threw a couch cushion at him and hit him in the head. Then, stuff happened and it was nice to see my father and Octavia playing again. It’s been a little tense since the… you know. Everything that’s happened.”

“It was okay… I guess… nothing bad happened.” Sighing, Sumac was rather glum over the fact that his brand new bow had already been put away and he would only be able to get it out with proper adult supervision. Lemon Hearts had made it clear that Twinkleshine was not proper adult supervision, much to both Sumac and Twinkleshine’s dismay.

Smiling, Pinny Lane nudged Pebble with her foreleg and pushed her closer to Sumac. This caused a chain reaction in a number of adults, starting with Cloudy and Pinny glancing at one another, Limestone began giggling with her father, Igneous, and Maud responded with her stony stare. Sumac, who wasn’t paying much attention, missed most of this while he squeezed a bit of white frosting onto the schoolhouse to secure the roof.

“Hey, Pebble, look up,” Pinny said after another gentle nudge.

While Sumac continued his meticulous work, Pebble looked up, her lips parting somewhat when her head tilted backwards. After a crosseyed moment of concentration, she said, “Viscum album… otherwise known as mistletoe. Poisonous. Ooooh, that’s dirty.”

Humming to himself, Sumac was utterly unaware of the danger posed by the mistletoe over his and Pebble’s head. Exercising his telekinesis, he ran a fine line along the edge of the roof so that it could be adorned with gumdrops by Limestone, who had dextrous hooves. Pebble sighed, a resigned sound, and Sumac failed to notice her leaning in until he felt her breathing on his cheek—and by then, it was far too late.

The wet smacker of a smooch Pebble left on his cheek made his left ear ring from the sudden sound and spooked him. Sumac, being a small spooked equine with unstable, sometimes dangerous magical powers, lost control of his telekinesis. Almost dropping the piping bag, he gave it a violent squeeze at the last moment to keep his grip on it and to prevent it from hitting the table, which caused most of the contents to come squirting out on Pebble’s face in long, sticky, stringy, glistening white strands.

Before Tarnish—who just so happened to be fixing lunch with Vinyl—could say anything, Vinyl rammed a whole apple into his mouth with her magic to keep him silent. Igneous, now stony faced, sat very still, Cloudy turned away from her granddaughter and bit down upon her hoof, Limestone buried her face into her mother’s neck, Octavia’s face turned bright tomato red, and Sumac, mortified, stared at Pebble, dumbfounded.

Lemon, Trixie, and Twinkleshine all clutched one another and tried to hide their faces.

“Yuck, I kissed a colt and he squirted me in the face,” Pebble deadpanned in disgust.

Letting out a strange gasp, Maud fell over as if poleaxed, she whooped again, kicked her legs a few times, and then the kitchen was filled with the most bizarre sound of laughter. Maud’s peculiar halting laughter suffocated all other reactions. For a moment, the mare’s eyes went wide and she clutched her stomach while sucking in a deep breath—then, more peals of laughter escaped from Maud’s pie hole.

The surreal moment was too much for Sumac, and he set down the mostly empty piping tube. His face was burning and the heat in his ears was downright painful. Megara rushed over to aid her sibling and began licking off the icing while Pebble made disgusted faces. Something had happened, something adult perhaps, and he wasn’t quite sure what, but he had a few vague ideas. The sound of Maud’s laughter was the strangest thing ever, as it was the most least-expected noise that could come from Maud.

“Tarnish once told me that he had heard Maud laugh… I didn’t believe him,” Octavia said in a voice as creaky as a rusty hinge. “It’s rather unsettling. Megara, darling, um, maybe… licking your sister’s face is a bad idea right now. Oh, nevermind. As you were.”

In an explosion of glittery light, Trixie vanished. Then, an eyeblink later, Lemon Hearts too disappeared with an audible pop. Alone, Twinkleshine began sniggering, but before she was overcome by her mirth, she too escaped into the aether. Near the counter, Tarnish finally spat out the apple in his mouth, which bounced off of Vinyl’s head and knocked her dark glasses askew. She caught it—mid-air no less—and before she could jam it back into Tarnish’s mouth, he fled the room while making strangulated choking sounds.

“I didn’t know that Sumac was going to squirt me in the face when I kissed him,” Pebble remarked while Megara licked her frosted eyebrow. “What’s so funny, anyhow?”

“Nothing, nothing is funny,” Cloudy replied, and when Limestone began to titter, the stern mare clopped her daughter on the back of her head. When Igneous snorted once, Cloudy turned her withering, fierce, matronly glare upon him, and her brows formed deep furrows seeded with aggression.

Meanwhile, Maud was still laughing at whatever it was that wasn’t funny.

“My mistake was kissing him while he was squeezing his—”

“Pebble, love, enough!” Octavia fanned herself with her hoof and then she looked down at Maud, whose smock was now quite rumpled. “Dear, do you need some help getting up?”

Maud’s response was more of her halting laughter. “Hah… hah… hah… hah…”

“All my frosting ended up on Pebble’s face and I have nothing left to squirt.” Mid-sentence, Sumac watched as Igneous broke, and the old, wise stallion dodged his wife’s incoming hoof. “I need more frosting so Pebble and I can make a house together.”

Just like that, Vinyl popped out of existence following a hacking hoot.

When Sumac turned his head, his neck popped and he looked over at Pebble, who was getting her face licked clean. The adults were all acting funny and even Cloudy was trembling while pressing her lips tight together. “I don’t know what went wrong, Pebble. I’m sorry I squirted you in the face and left you all sticky, but you spooked me. I think it’s in your mane, Pebble.”

Coughing, Pinny Lane rose from her seat and then departed the room.

“Meg, get that long dangly bit hanging from Pebble’s nose, it looks funny.” Sumac’s ears pivoted towards the sound of Maud’s laughter, and he burned with curiousity, a desire to know what it was that she found funny. “Thanks, Megara. It’s nice to know that if I make a huge mess on Pebble’s face, you’ll be there to help clean up.”

Across the table, Cloudy whimpered and when Limestone started to snicker, the stern old mare clopped her daughter on the head again. Igneous was on his hooves now and heading for the mudroom door. Perhaps he needed some fresh air from outside. One by one, the adults were leaving.

Sumac, trying to salvage the situation, had this to say: “If I would have known that it would make Maud laugh, I would have made Pebble’s face a sticky mess a whole lot sooner.”

“Sumac! Enough! Stop! You’re killing us!” Reaching out her hoof, Octavia waved it at Sumac to silence him. “Pebble, come with me. All Megara is doing is making you stickier. You need a proper bath. Come. No arguing.”

“Fine,” Pebble deadpanned while she pushed her sister away. “Everything about this kiss was confusing. I don’t understand anything that is going on. Next time Sumac, show a little control and don’t squirt me in the face.”

With that, Pebble rose from where she had been sitting, leaned over, gave Sumac a final sticky parting kiss on his cheek, and then she strolled away, trailing globs of white, sticky frosting in her wake. Sumac watched her go while feeling a peculiar sense of excitement, and then, to occupy himself, he began pasting gumdrops onto the roof.

Lunchtime drew ever nearer, but for Sumac, it couldn’t come soon enough. A whole morning of using magic, visiting with family, and the whole mysterious ordeal with Pebble had left him starving. His own sticky face had been thoroughly scrubbed by Lemon Hearts, and she had not spared him from her vigourous ministrations.

“What’s for lunch?” Sumac asked, hoping that somehow, his question might hurry lunch along.

“Leftovers,” Tarnish replied while moving a pot onto the stove. “And some other stuff. There’ll be fondue, some sandwiches, some soup, and I’m heating up some enhanced wheat-meat nuggets too.”

“Enhanced?” Sumac, too curious for his own good, peered over the edge of the table at Tarnish.

“Nutritionally complete for creatures like Megara.” While responding, Tarnish set a timer on the counter and then moved on to his next task.

“I’ve heard it said that the kitchen is a mare’s place.” Sumac allowed his chin to come to rest against the table and then worried that he might have said something upsetting when several adults turned to look at him. “It’s confusing sometimes and I don’t know who to believe.”

Sidestepping a slow-moving Vinyl, Tarnish turned around to face Sumac and asked, “Is this about being a sissy? Are you that worried about this whole thing?”

“Yeah,” was Sumac’s terse reply.

“Sumac, darling…” Lemon Hearts began to rub her front hooves together and she fretted while trying to think of what to say.

“I have clear examples of right and wrong.” Sumac’s ears stood up for a few seconds, but then flopped over and fell against the sides of his head. “I’ve been taught the difference between good and evil. When any of you tell me to be a good pony, you tell me how to be a good pony. But the whole sissy thing, there wasn’t much said about it, just don’t be one. I don’t want Big Mac disappointed in me. I don’t want anypony feeling that way about me.”

“I told you that this was going to cause us a lot of problems—”

“Twinkleshine, now is not the time for ‘I told you so’ and ‘I was right.’ This is a festering problem.”

“Lemon Hearts, you’re right. I’m sorry.” Twinkleshine folded her forelegs over her barrel and then sat there, sulking in silence.

“Trixie hates what this insidious menace is doing to her son.” Before anypony else could react or respond, she continued, “Growing up, I remember all too well never quite knowing what would make my mother or Caper happy. The details were never made clear, but I had to conduct myself in some way and so many hours of my foalhood were lost to worry. I don’t like it!”

Lemon Hearts winced at the sudden increase of volume from Trixie, and Sumac’s ears stood up once more. Trixie was breathing hard, almost panting, and the expression on her face was difficult to read. Lemon reached out, but Trixie shied away, leaving poor Lemon with a sour look upon her face.

Tarnish was about to say something, but the alarm chimes echoed through the house. Boomer, asleep in a bowl of mixed fruits and nuts, let out a smokey snort of annoyance, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Sumac lifted his chin from the edge of the table with great effort, but then decided that like Boomer, he couldn’t be bothered and his head came back down upon the wood with a thump.

“Cactused!” Tarnish shouted while he stomped towards the door.

“Li’l Mac!” Applejack’s voice sang out through the kitchen and a second later, she appeared in the doorway, flanked by Hidden Rose and Ambrosia. “Happy Hearth’s Warming, Li’l Mac!”

With great effort, Sumac roused himself from the table and turned about just in time to see Applejack barreling down upon him at full speed. For a moment, he panicked, but her big squishy hug was surprisingly gentle, though cold and more than a little snowy. Her blanket jacket was a bit damp, covered in white flakes, and smelled of hay.

“Tarnish, I don’t know how to thank ya enough,” Applejack said while she continued to squeeze Sumac. “I have to go to that gala tonight and my foalsitter got sick. Sumac, have ya gotten skinnier? Do I need to feed ya more pies? I worry about breaking ya when I hug ya, Sumac. It scares me!” Applejack was clearly in a mood, because her drawl had slowed to a frozen crawl.

Hidden Rose and Ambrosia admired the gingerbread village with open mouths and wide eyes. “Like I was saying, I’d be glad to watch your girls. Pebble needs the socialisation.”

“Have fun tonight, Jackie.” Tarnish stood near the doorway, ready to escort Applejack out.

“Rose, ‘Brosia, you’d both better behave. You be gentle with Sumac, ya hear? If’n the both of y’all don’t, I’ll wear y’all out come spring with every chore I can think of. You got that?”

The fillies ignored their mother and entranced, continued to stare at the gingerbread village. Pebble, just out of her bath, stared at them with narrowed eyes, perhaps viewing them as interlopers on her domain. It was well known that Pebble didn’t care much for them, as they were rough with Sumac and loved to mercilessly tease him.

Applejack let go and eased Sumac back down upon his chair, mindful of his neck. She lingered for a moment, her eyes warm and merry, and then before Sumac could protest, she kissed him on the cheek. Thankfully, he had no frosting, or this might’ve been awkward. Applejack dropped down to all fours once more and then just stood there, the snow on her blanket jacket melting.

“I don’t want to leave, but I gotta go. A hero is needed. And truth be told, I’m looking forward to spending time with Fluttershy at the gala.”

“Fluttershy?” Lemon Hearts glanced in Applejack’s direction. “That’s an odd pairing—”

“Ain’t got nothin’ to do with pears!” Applejack interjected. “Dagnabbit, ponies keep talking. Look, Flutters and I are friends. When ya get older, your priorities change. It used to be I couldn’t stand her most times, but now that all these years have passed and all these changes happened, things are different.”

“Different?” Lemon’s eyebrow arched.

“Rarity’s gonna be absent tonight from the gala. Dashie goes off and disappears… sometimes with Tarnish”—Applejack turned and gave Tarnish a scowl—“and sometimes with Daring Do. And sometimes all y’all go off together to do Celestia knows what. Twilight stays busy now. Fluttershy and I are the ones who’ve put down roots, and them there roots, they’s tied together in meaningful ways, I reckon. I wasted a lot of years complaining and fussing about how mousy and timid Flutters is, and I failed to notice just how much alike the two of us can be. Now I make it a point to spend time together. Flutters gets powerful lonesome and she feels excluded from stuff sometimes.”

“Good on you, Applejack.”

For some reason, Lemon’s words made Applejack blush, and Sumac noticed.

“Go have a lovely time,” Lemon said to Applejack. “We’ll look after your girls and keep them safe. Go be a hero.”

“Come’re, girls, and give me a hug. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow, don’t know when. Y’all little scamps had better behave, or else.” Misty eyed, Applejack waited for her daughters to come over, but they seemed reluctant to tear themselves away from the gingerbread village.

When Applejack began to tap her hoof from impatience, Sumac began to snicker…

Author's Note

:pinkiegasp:

Chapter 36

The parlour was a cosy room now that Vinyl had heated the floor with her magic. It was an intimate room, but also a room in need of more furniture. Like most of the rooms in this house, it was heated by burning wood, but lacked a proper fireplace. This room, destined to become a parlour, had a cast iron pot-bellied stove that sat between the door leading into the family room and an empty room that had been closed off until it could be decided what to do with it. The iron stovepipe disappeared into the bare brick wall behind the stove and Sumac had no idea where the smoke was routed.

Sumac liked that this house was still in progress of becoming a house. His stomach full, feeling half-drowsy, he lay on a blanket on the warm floor with his eyes half-open, watching as the others worked on an enormous puzzle spread out over the floor. Boomer, awake, was combing his mane with her tiny clawed fingers, and this made him feel sleepy.

In the other room, the family room, Limestone’s loud, boisterous laughter could be heard, along with Tarnish’s fearsome growling. What was going on in there? Sumac, while curious, was glad that the commotion was in the next room and not this one. He needed quiet time away from the crowd and this bit of respite was almost ideal. After this morning and his visit with his grandmother, he needed time to think. Then, there was the whole frosting fiasco and whatever it was that the adults found funny. Sumac was aware that something embarrassing had happened, but he wasn’t sure what. Adults were silly, and sometimes gross.

“I wish Mama hadn’t left,” Hidden Rose remarked, sighing out each one of her words.

“Yeah,” Ambrosia added, “Mama lets us get away with stuff, and now we have to behave, ‘cause we’re guests.”

“It must be awful.” Pebble’s snark seemed to fly right over the top of the Apple sister’s heads, because both of them nodded in agreement.

“It is awful, we can’t play rodeo and I don’t think we can get away with wrasslin.” Again, Hidden Rose sighed, drawing it out for as long as possible, and she raised her hoof up to her forehead in a perfect mimicry of Rarity. “Why, I do declare that this boredom is giving me the vapours!”

“We could have a brappin’ contest,” Ambrosia suggested.

“For that, we’d need Twinkleshine.” The faint smile on Pebble’s lips radiated the very essence of smugness.

“What? Why?” Ambrosia’s head tilted off to one side, causing her messy pigtails to hang lopsided.

“Oh, nevermind. It’s silly.” Pebble’s smile vanished, but a wicked gleam remained in her eyes. “What’s wrong with puzzles anyhow? They give a pony time to think about important stuff.”

Ambrosia shook her head. “I ain’t one for thinkin’—”

“That much is obvious,” Pebble cut in and Ambrosia’s ears pricked straight up.

“You think you’re smarter than we are, don’t you?” This question was followed up by Ambrosia’s lips contorting into a tight, aggressive pucker, and then, “It’s ‘cause you go to that fancy school with those fancy ponies and you get your head filled with fancy garbage. Just admit it, you think you’re all smart.”

“Oh, I don’t think that at all,” Pebble said aloud, and what Sumac didn’t hear her say was, “I know it.”

On the floor where he lay, Sumac could almost hear Pebble saying the words he just imagined, and the sudden tension in the room made his dock grow tight. Both of his cousins were struggling to keep up right now and he knew exactly how they felt about eggheads, having heard their opinions a million times or more on the subject. Have you tried not being an egghead?

“Well, maybe I was wrong.” Ambrosia glanced over at her twin and then back at Pebble. “See, I was thinking that you were a bit snobby and that you thought you were better than us. Look, I know that we don’t always get along, but my sis and I, we’re country ponies and you two… you’re both eggheads.”

When Sumac’s sleepy brain engaged, one ear flickered, going to and fro, which caused Boomer to take a playful swipe at it. She missed, became miffed, and tried several times to catch the offending ear. Megara too, turned to watch the sudden jerky movement, but Sumac was unaware of her predatory gaze, because he was too busy thinking about how wrong all of this felt. He didn’t like that his best friend and his family were fighting. Fighting? Was this fighting? Maybe not a fight, but Pebble was certainly being unpleasant, as Pebble was known to be to others at times.

It was sometimes easy to forget that Pebble could be a bit of a jerk and this made Sumac think back to when he and Pebble had first met. She was nice to him now—mostly—but seeing her natural jerkishness was a reminder that there were parts about her that he didn’t like. Pebble had flaws—bad ones, even—but Sumac was determined to be her friend because she also had outstanding qualities.

As for himself, Sumac took pride in the fact that he had no flaws.

“Do you even listen to how you sound when you call us eggheads?” Pebble asked while leaning forwards closer to Ambrosia.

“Ya call a hawg a hawg, a chicken a chicken, an apple an apple, and an orange is an orange. There ain’t no harm in calling something what it is. Things is what they is and if you have a problem with that, that’s just you making a problem where there ain’t one.”

Pebble’s flinty gaze locked onto Ambrosia and for a moment, she bared her teeth. “So, if I called you a country-dumb hayseed hick, and you were upset, it would be your fault?”

“Hey, that’s mean!” Hidden Rose whined out these words in protest of what had been said. “We’re not dumb.”

“And my head isn’t made from eggshell,” Pebble retorted.

“Yeah, we don’t mean anything by it,” Ambrosia said to Pebble, “but you, you’re just being mean and you sound kinda snobby.”

“Or maybe”—Pebble paused, took a deep breath, and her nostrils flared wide—“That’s just you making a problem where there ain’t one.” Her mimicry of Ambrosia’s speech and mannerisms was almost spot on, so much so that Sumac was shocked by the similarity.

It was a talent that he wasn’t aware that his fillyfriend had.

“We’re not being mean when we say stuff. We’re family…” Ambrosia, struggling to speak, lifted one hoof and made a circular gesture while fighting to find the right words. “It’s just innocent fun, that’s all. It’s like when our Ma calls us cussheads. We are cussheads, and she’s just being all playful like. She still loves us. Sumac is family too and this is just our way to show him that we like him.”

Pebble shook her head in refute and made a dismissive wave with her hoof. “Horseapples. Both of you act like bullies and you scare Sumac. I don’t see any love there at all. He doesn’t like being with you. At best, he tolerates you. At worst, he’s smart enough to probably think of some pretty awful things about you, but because he’s also kind, he keeps those things to himself.”

“That can’t be true. That ain’t true.” Ambrosia shook her head from side to side, causing her messy pigtails to slap against her cheeks. “Now you’re just being really mean and trying to drive us apart. Why’d he want to do that, anyhow? What reason would he have to be that way?”

Pebble did not reply right away, but a fantastically cruel smile spread across her muzzle and her eyes gleamed with a ferocious inner glee. “Because, you both act like hot plot-nuggets.”

In response to this, Hidden Rose let out a groan, turned away, and rolled her eyes, but her sister, Ambrosia, had a somewhat different reaction, one of slow realisation after having been hammered by Pebble’s brutish, unrelenting words.

“A’ight, sometimes we do, but that’s different. Afore, Sumac wasn’t hurt and now he is. We’re not gonna act like butt-dumplings when he’s like this. We ain’t said one mean thing and neither of us has gave him noogies.” Hidden Rose’s voice wavered, changing in both pitch and depth, and it sounded as though she wanted to cry, something that Sumac cued in on.

Hidden Rose however, had a different reaction and placed a protective foreleg over her twin’s shoulders. Perhaps knowing that anything that she said would only be picked apart by Pebble, she scowled in silence while trying to comfort her upset twin. Ears pricked, Hidden Rose’s face held the quiet threat of violence.

And it seemed that Pebble was game. “I don’t believe you. In fact, I’m pretty sure that if you thought you could get away with it, you’d be right back to bullying him. Maybe even worse now that he’s too weak to fight back. That’s how the stupid like to fight.” Head darting forward, Pebble was more than a match for Hidden Rose’s aggression. “If you know what’s good for you, I wouldn’t do anything to upset Megara. She’s still learning the rules and she can be a little rough, if you know what I mean.”

The Apple twins gulped together, but Hidden Rose’s ears remained aggressive and pricked.

“We only roughed him up before so he wouldn’t act like such a sissy.” Pulling her sister closer, Hidden Rose held her ground. “Ain’t no good to be a sissy.”

From where he lay on the floor, Sumac heard the sound of Pebble grinding her teeth, and then he heard her say, “You have no idea how much trouble you and Big Mac have caused with that sissy stuff. Cut it out, or else.” Afterwards, she cracked her fetlocks as a means of aggressive punctuation.

Ambrosia pulled her sister back and with her ears pinned in submission, she poured out her heart to Pebble. “It was only funnin’ and we ain’t mean nuttin’ by it! Honest Apple!”

To which Pebble replied with as much aggression as she could muster, while squinting through one eye and her ears angled out over her face, “Normally, I don’t step on road apples because I don’t like the mess, but I’d be more than willing to stomp on you. I’m pretty sure that I could take you both at once. You’re pathetic and acting like a sissy right now.”

Fearful that he was about to witness a knock down, drag out, pigtail pulling, plot punching, throw down, hoedown filly fight, Sumac knew it was time to end this and when he spoke, he willed his words to carry as much magic as he could muster. “Stop this right now. I don’t want my friends and family fighting. Cut it out! Just stop!”

A mere second after speaking, Sumac was filled with regret, shame, and doubt. Had he just goofed? He had just intentionally used the power of his voice to influence others, and not even a gentle nudge of suggestion, but just plain trying to dominate them. Everypony was frozen now, unmoving, and he was uncertain as to why. His magic? Shock that he could be so assertive? Sumac wished that he knew what was going on so he would know how to feel about it.

Even Boomer seemed to be holding her breath and each passing second stretched out like taffy.

“Rose…” Ambrosia’s voice was a creaky, squeaky, squeal. “Rose, we done goofed—”

“Brose?” Hidden Rose’s ears slipped into a neutral position but the embrace she had on her twin remained firm.

“Rose, didn’t ya feel that, ya big dummy? That was his magic, like Mama talked about… The Grift, she calls it. It was like lightning goin’ through me. He coulda stopped us at any time, Rose, he coulda made us do whatever he wants, and he didn’t—”

“Brose… what?”

“Rose, he’s been better to us than we’ve been to him.” Ambrosia shook her sister, a hard powerful motion, and then with her foreleg, she wiped both of her eyes.

“Brose, it’s just a magic trick, ya done been grifted—” Hidden Rose’s words were cut off by a sudden, powerful smack to the face by her twin and she recoiled in pain while rubbing her cheek. Pulling herself away from her sister, she shot an angry look of betrayal in her sibling’s direction.

“That’s the point, ya big dummy! He coulda been doing this to us at any time to make us stop and he didn’t! He was trying to be nice to us. Trying to be good to us. He’s been trying to act like family… like an Apple, and we’ve done been acting like road apples, ya thickheaded ‘tard!”

“I ain’t no ‘tard, fart breath.” Hidden Rose shoved her sister away, got to her hooves, and retreated a bit. “How dare you call me that, you stink-drinkin’ outhouse basement dweller!”

Again, Pebble mimicked Ambrosia, this time even better than before. “Ya call a hawg a hawg, a chicken a chicken, an apple an apple, and an orange is an orange. There ain’t no harm in calling something what it is. Things is what they is and if you have a problem with that, that’s just you making a problem—”

“Pebble, shut up!” Struggling to rise into a sitting position, Sumac felt stabbing pains go shooting through his neck and for some reason, he felt far, far weaker than he had earlier. Where before, he had been walking and moving around with relative ease, he was now fighting just to sit up. Why? Perhaps he needed a nap. Leveling his stern gaze on Pebble, Sumac kept his mouth shut and did his best to stare her down.

After a moment, she let out a flustered sigh, turned away, and ignored him.

Snarling, Hidden Rose turned tail and stomped out of the room, going to where the adults were gathered. Sumac, fearing trouble once the adults were involved, let out a weary sigh, reminded himself of the importance of staying quiet, and waited for the aftermath of this dreadful, terrible, horrible, no good squabble.

Author's Note

Kids are savage, yo.

Chapter 37

This was surely the end of all things and a terrified Sumac awaited his well deserved fate. Tarnish, the bane of bandits, the mauler of mooks, the punisher of pirates, loomed large in the corner of Sumac’s vision, as well as a much smaller Lemon Hearts, who was somehow no less scary. Hidden Rose had gone off and tattled; now, the consequences were real. With all of his might, Sumac tried to swallow the suffocating lump in his throat, but it was impossible. With Pebble to his left and Ambrosia to his right, Sumac imagined all manner of terrible, horrible, awful, dreadful things happening as punishment.

Sumac remembered the movie perhaps a little too well.

“Look, there is nothing to be afraid of,” Tarnish said, yet when adults said this, there was plenty to be afraid of. “There are just two of us… Lemon Hearts and I… and three of you. See, nothing to be afraid of. You’re not facing a whole roomful of adults.”

This was of course, bunk, because there was more to Tarnish than three foals combined. If a herd’s strength was measured in numbers, Tarnish counted for at least three or four—adults. Sumac wasn’t reassured by Tarnish’s attempts at reassurance. It wasn’t the quantity of adults he faced that scared him, no, and Sumac felt that Tarnish just didn’t understand this simple concept. As for Lemon… Sumac shivered.

“Look, I wanna help you,” Tarnish continued with his calm voice of reassurance. “Hidden Rose told us some stuff… and I have a suspicion that she might have been exaggerating. She might’ve even been lying to me, but for me to be able to know, I need one of you to tell me what happened. Or better yet, all of you, because I’m pretty sure that all of you will have a different story to tell and I’ll have to sort out what’s real and what isn’t.”

“Right now, you are making it very hard for Mister Teapot to help you.”

Well, that was it then, there was no hope to be had. Mister Teapot. Now there was no doubt in Sumac’s mind that he was doomed. Adults only used serious adult names when real adulting was about to be adulted and at times like these, Sumac wished that he was adultless. Of course, running away to live in the woods was no real possibility, so he was stuck.

“Stay strong,” Ambrosia whispered, “don’t be a snitch.”

This set off Lemon Hearts something awful, and Sumac suffered a mighty cringe from the terror-inducing way that she inhaled. Bracing himself, he listened when she began to speak: “See, I don’t get that. It is in your best interests to tell us what happened, because if you don’t, we’re going to have to punish you based on what Hidden Rose told us, and that’s unfair. Help us make this fair for you—”

“So we can still be punished no matter what,” Pebble said, interrupting Lemon Hearts.

Tarnish lowered his head—he had a long way to go to get down to foal level—and Sumac, out of the corner of his eye saw Pebble staring straight ahead while her father’s snoot hovered mere inches from her eyelashes. Sweat began to trickle down the inside fold of Sumac’s ear and he was so scared that he had trouble sitting still. How was Pebble so calm with her father breathing on her like that?

For as bad as things were going, there was a sudden reprieve in the form of Twinkleshine, who burst into the room. Lemon Hearts now wore a sour expression and Sumac felt a glimmer of hope when Lemon turned her commanding stare upon the pearlescent white unicorn that had crashed the crime scene. Maybe, just maybe, the adults would fight, bicker, and argue. Hopeful, Sumac waited and watched.

“Tag me in, Lemon,” Twinkleshine said to the sour yellow mare.

“What?” Lemon Hearts shook her head, confused. “This isn’t tag team wrestling, Twinkle. Get out! You know Twilight’s guidelines for effective teaching, no more than two adults with small group of foals so they don’t feel intimidated.”

“Now isn’t the time to be a teacher,” Twinkleshine retorted, her brows furrowing while she extended one front hoof. “Now is the time to be a parent, and I got this. Now tag me!”

Shaking her head, sputtering in disgust, Lemon Hearts reached out and with an incredulous stare—perhaps not believing that she was about to follow through with this—she tapped hooves with Twinkleshine. Sumac’s spirits soared because Twinkleshine was a relative softy compared to Lemon Hearts and really, Twinkleshine was still a bit green when it came to the whole parenting thing. He knew a chance when he saw one.

When Lemon Hearts left the room, Sumac felt pretty confident that he might come out of this unscathed. Thinking the most awful thoughts he could think of, the saddest, most sorrowful things that he could call to mind, Sumac allowed his conjured melancholy to control his facial expressions unfiltered. His lower lip drooped, it trembled, and his eyes glazed over behind his glasses while he thought about Cloudy and her spoon collection—Cloudy who might very well be in the next room over. Sumac hoped that Cloudy wouldn’t tag in next, because that would be awful.

With all of the cold, calculating, manipulative force he could muster, Sumac gave Twinkleshine everything that he had—he even blinked a few times, extra slow to enhance the effect—and knew that soon, very soon, he would have an ally against Tarnish. Twinkleshine would protect him from the worst of whatever Tarnish had to offer.

There was a gleam in Twinkleshine’s eyes that Sumac thought to be sympathy…

“Sumac Apple”—Twinkleshine sucked in a deep breath and her ears sagged, a most excellent sign that she would soon be his—“I am very disappointed with you.”

In response, Sumac blinked, stunned, and then a ferocious fire ignited in his ears. This spread to his brain, burning him, and then to his eyes, causing them to sting. She was disappointed with him? How disappointed? What if she was so disappointed that… she didn’t want to be his parent anymore? What if she left? What if his family was breaking apart before it had a chance to come together? She was disappointed with him, and nopony liked things they were disappointed with. What if the engagement was over? What if he had just ruined Trixie’s life? What if they had to go back on the road again?

Shuddering, Sumac tried to say something, he tried to express how he was feeling, his concerns, his sudden worries, but all that came out was a bleating whimper, followed by hitching sobs, and then he began to blubber. Wailing, he began to pitch over, but Pebble caught him, and Ambrosia clung to him as well. The stern look on Twinkleshine’s face was utterly devastating and Sumac couldn’t bear to look. When his eyes blurred over too much to see, it was a mercy.

“Lady, you’re mean,” Ambrosia blurted out while she wrapped herself around Sumac. “Ain’t nice going for the throat like that. You’re s'posed to ease into these things.”

Shaking her head from side to side, Twinkleshine wasn’t having it and she began to tap her right front hoof on the floor while her ears made a forward facing pivot. “Spill your guts, filly, or you’ll be next. If you cooperate with me now, I might keep this quiet. Fail to tell me what I want to know, and Applejack will be getting an earful.”

Blubbering as he was, Sumac did not hear Tarnish say in a low whisper, “Right for the jugular… sheesh.”

“Lady—”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Twinkleshine snapped. “Either you confess or I tell your mom that your sister lied and that you withheld the truth when there was a chance to tell it. Now spill your guts or I spill more blood.”

“Gosh, you’re mean!” Ambrosia shook her head in disbelief while still clinging to Sumac. “Mean as a constipated chimera!”

“You have no idea.” Twinkleshine’s eyes narrowed into threatening slits.

Sighing, Ambrosia’s ears sagged in defeat and she began to sniffle while she made her confession: “I was being a butt-dumpling and I wasn’t on my best behaviour and there might’ve been a little squabble that broke out and Sumac, he did the right thing and he made us stop fighting.”

“That’s not what your sister told us.” Tarnish now had a more relaxed pose and he had lifted his head back up to look down upon the three foals huddled together.

“What’d my sister tell y’all anyhow?” Ambrosia asked.

“Well…” Tarnish took a step closer to Twinkleshine, perhaps to present a united front, and his tail flicked in annoyance. “She did say that a fight started and then Sumac used the power of his voice to make you and your sister act like rabbits and cluck like chickens. Now, what I’d like to know is… how exactly did this supposed fight get started?”

“Like I was saying… I was acting like a butt-dumpling.” Peeling herself away from Sumac, Ambrosia dragged herself while in a sitting position over the floor towards Tarnish. “This is my fault. Punish me and not Sumac. He made us stop, honest. Ain’t nopony acted like rabbits or clucked like chickens. Honest Apple.” To show her sincerity, Ambrosia placed her hoof over her heart.

“That’s not true either.” Pebble, who was disgusted because Sumac was snotting all over her dress, let out a weary, resigned sigh. “I can’t let Ambrosia take all of the blame—”

“Pebble, shut yer pie hole!” Ambrosia said out of the side of mouth.

“Too late for that.” Tarnish’s head ducked down again and he stood snoot to snoot with Ambrosia to silence her. “You… you’ll stay hushed if you know what’s good for you.”

Whimpering, Ambrosia did as she was told.

“I don’t get it.” Tarnish lifted his head once more and shook it from side to side. “I don’t understand any of this. I let all of you play together for a little while to make nice and be friends, and now I am getting all of this dishonesty… all of this lying! Nopony wants to tell me anything and I am being lied to because you’re trying to protect one another. I am not getting the truth from anypony and I’m starting to get pissed off—”

“Language, Mister Teapot!”

“Sorry, Twinkle, but I am reaching the end of my patience.”

Reaching out, Twinkleshine wrapped her foreleg around Tarnish’s elbow and gave it a squeeze. “Juvenile herds, Tarnish. This is what they do. This is how they develop. Lemon and I and all of the rest of our little circle, we were all thick as thieves. We did anything to protect one another. Can’t you understand that?”

In response, Tarnish’s ears pinned back against his skull. “No. I was always alone. That’s why I don’t understand this nonsense.”

“Something must have happened,” Twinkleshine said while Sumac continued with his bawling. “You three went from squabbling to this”—she nodded at the three foals on the floor and looked at each of them in turn—“with all of you being loyal to one another and trying to protect one another. Sumac… I am going to ask you this just once… did you say something that caused this?”

Ambrosia lept up, lightning quick, and threw herself in front of Twinkleshine. “He told us to stop and that was it. He stayed quiet just like he always does! And that’s how I knew I’d messed up! He could’ve made me stop all those times I was teasin’ him before and he didn’t do anything to stop me! I called him an egghead and I was a butt-dumpling and all this time I was mean to him he could’ve made me stop and he didn’t and I’m powerful sorry!”

With a heavy, stony sigh of resignation, Pebble made her own contribution: “And I was acting like a butt-dumpling too. I was trying to get a fight started because I wanted to teach Ambrosia and Hidden Rose a lesson. Sumac made us stop. It was… powerful. He was powerful. He put a lot of feeling into it because he didn’t want his friends and family fighting. I would like to make clear that I feel really ashamed of myself right now. Sumac succeeded in that, but he wasn’t wrong for doing it.”

“Well, at least Sumac can be trusted to do the right thing.” Twinkleshine sighed, let out a groan, and her stern expression intensified. “Even if Pebble and Ambrosia can’t. Both of you are in a lot of trouble. A whole lot of trouble.”

“I should be in the most trouble because I was really egging for a fight. It felt good. It felt really nice protecting Sumac. There’s a lot that I can’t protect him from, but it felt amazing to protect him from his obnoxious cousins.” Pebble, balanced on her haunches, shifted her body to support Sumac a little better and then guided his head to rest against her neck. “It was great feeling so aggressive. Now, if somepony will take Sumac, I am going to go and stand myself in the corner for a few hours, because I am a bad pony.”

Ambrosia turned her pleading glare upon Twinkleshine and did everything she could to look submissive. “Don’t you get it? Sumac isn’t gonna say anything to defend himself ‘cause he’s afraid he’ll mess with your head. We’ve told you everything you wanna know, and I think I’m gonna join Pebble in a corner, ‘cause that’s the right thing to do.”

Squirming, Sumac managed to lift his head, but had trouble trying to turn and see Twinkleshine. He sniffled, shuddered a bit, hiccuped a few times, and then asked, “What about me? I should be punished too.”

Tarnish, speaking with a low voice into Twinkleshine’s ear, asked, “Is this one of those juvenile herd things?”

With an impossible sternness upon her face, Twinkleshine did not reply to Tarnish, but studied the three foals. “Standing in the corner is a good start, but not for you, Sumac.”

“Yeah.” Tarnish’s head bobbed up and down and he gave his daughter the hardest stare he could muster. “You are going to sit in that corner and you, Ambrosia, you’re going to sit over there in that corner, and you are going to stay.” He took a deep breath, perhaps to calm himself, and then added, “If the two of you wish to talk to one another to sort all of this out, I won’t be angry.”

“Tarnish—”

“This juvenile herd bonding is a good thing, right?” Tarnish angled his head to look down at Twinkleshine, blinked a few times, and took another deep breath. “Do we really want to discourage that? My daughter might have made a friend out of this. We want this bond to grow, right?”

Upon hearing his questions, Twinkleshine appeared to deflate and her lips flapped in a raspberry of defeat. Ambrosia began to back away with her tail tucked between her legs and her ears pinned back in defeated submission. When she bumped into Sumac, Ambrosia let out a squeak, she whimpered, and then sat down upon the floor.

“I don’t know how these things work,” Tarnish muttered, “I am still working on meaningful relationships as an adult. This stuff is confusing.”

Still weeping, Sumac found himself sandwiched between Ambrosia and Pebble again. He was a total mess now, in both the physical and emotional sense. A glimmering ribbon of snot dangled from his left nostril and swung side to side in a pendulous motion with each hitching sob. He sniffled, he snorted, but the dangling booger did not drop nor did it vanish back up his nose.

“What about me?” Sumac asked once again. “I used my magic—”

“To stop a fight.” Twinkleshine pranced in place, revealing her uncertainty. “That’s the exact right way to use your magic.”

“But it feels wrong.” Sumac was surprised to see Ambrosia’s red-orange hoof in his field of vision and was somehow even more surprised when she used her fetlock to wipe his nose. When her hoof vanished in the corner of his eye, he did not see what she did with the snot she had wiped away.

“I could’ve stopped the fight sooner.” Sumac, a little disgusted by the sound of his own whining, made an effort to get himself to stop crying, and now, a part of his mind lingered upon the fate of the snatched-away booger. It might have been out of sight, but it wasn’t out of mind.

“Let me get this straight.” Twinkleshine’s teeth clicked together when her lower jaw snapped shut and her lips puckered into a thoughtful smirk. “You feel like it was wrong to use your magic, but you also think you should have done so sooner?”

With a shivery, shuddery sigh, Sumac sank silently, seeking solace. Try as he might, he didn’t have an answer for Twinkleshine, and it occurred to him that she was still talking to him even though she was disappointed with him. Somehow, he had to convince her to punish him, so that maybe, just maybe, she would get over her disappointment. He had to find some way of saving everything he had ruined with his carelessness, because his mother’s happiness was at stake, and his own happiness meant nothing.

“There is nothing that you could do to Sumac that is worse than what he has already done to himself.” Pebble’s calm, resolute deadpan soothed some of Sumac’s sniffles and now, the tears flowed without so many of the racking sobs.

“Sumac won’t be happy unless he’s punished too, so that’s exactly what I am going to do.”

Sumac let heave a sigh of relief, and then winced at the sudden stabbing pain in his neck. While he winced, he failed to notice the worried expression that appeared upon Twinkleshine’s face for a fraction of a second and when he had recovered, the stern mask had returned.

“Sumac Apple, I sentence you to one bath with your mother, Trixie, followed by a nap.”

Right then and there, Sumac decided that he did not like Twinkleshine the disciplinarian, and in the future, he’d rather take his chances with Lemon or Trixie. This didn’t feel fair, not in the slightest, and standing in the corner would have been fairer, so he felt. But, since he was getting what he wanted, he didn’t say anything. Fearing that Twinkleshine might be disappointed with him for any opposition, he didn’t dare complain. At all. Not even whining or moaning was safe. He would suffer in silence and hope that Twinkleshine would stay.

“That’s harsh… but you is kinda snotty.” Ambrosia let go a forlorn sigh and gave Sumac a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Don’t drown. It helps if you don’t fight too much. We’ll talk a bit when you wake up, okay? If’n I’m out of the corner by then, that is.”

“Okay, you two. Say your goodbyes to Sumac and then off to your respective corners.” Tarnish gave the two fillies an encouraging nod. “Hidden Rose told me that Sumac used his magic to turn you against your sister, Ambrosia. She said that you called her a ‘thickheaded retard,’ or something to that effect.”

“Oh, that’s true…” Ambrosia hesitated for a moment and then corrected herself. “Only Sumac didn’t do that. I did that on my own. My sister was being a thickheaded ‘tard and the dirty little tattletale called me a ‘stink-drinkin’ outhouse basement dweller.’ It’s true, I swear. Honest Apple.”

“Good thing you’re no tattletale.” Tarnish focused his stern gaze upon Ambrosia and then his ears angled forward over his eyes, causing his brows to take on many deep furrows. “When your sister finally comes out of her corner, I want the two of you to make up as sisters, and you’d better mean it, or else, I will tell your mother everything I know, including the awful names you called one another.”

Ambrosia gulped, whimpered, and shrank down to appear as small as possible.

“I’m a big fan of being responsible and cleaning up your own mess, so I am going to give you a chance to do that, Ambrosia. I’m real nice like that. Satisfy me and you might even get to go to bed tonight with supper in your belly. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds right good, actually.” Again, Ambrosia gulped. “I can sort things out with my sister, even if she’s a thickheaded ‘tard.”

“Good.” Twinkleshine cast a sidelong glance at Tarnish, nodded at the huddled foals, the sternness left her face, and was replaced with a somewhat more gentle expression. “Say your goodbyes, give each other hugs, and make nice with one another. Sumac needs some time with his mama in the tub and the two of you need to get intimately acquainted with your corners.”

A sniffly snot bubble escaped when Sumac realised it was time to face the doom he had brought upon himself…

Author's Note

Tag team parenting! Rage in a cage!

Chapter 38

As the hot water soaked both his pelt and his skin, Sumac felt Trixie’s foreleg wrap around his neck to support his head. Without meaning to do so, he leaned back against her and could feel her already saturated pelt brushing up against his thin, delicate spine. Her thighs—now meatier since she had put on some weight—surrounded his own and Sumac lost himself in his mother’s blissful, maternal embrace while the tub continued to fill with steaming hot water. It was good to be warm, to banish away winter’s cruel chill, and to be in a place of quiet after such a long, emotionally exhausting day. Though Sumac would never, ever, under any conceivable circumstances that could be thought of, admit that this was perfect.

The water made a thunderous sound as it poured into the tub and there was some splashing while Trixie kicked out her hind legs a bit to get comfortable. When Trixie leaned her body against the angled back of the tub, Sumac was pulled with her and the whole of himself rested against her stomach, with his head held somewhere near her heart. Fumes of lavender oil dulled his senses with each breath taken, and the scent of eucalyptus left him drowsy.

“Trixie needs to be stood in a corner too.”

At this, one eye opened, but Sumac couldn’t muster the effort required to open the second. It was a strange thing for one’s mother to say, that she too needed to be stood in a corner. Thinking about Twinkleshine, Sumac sniffled a bit and wondered if his mother had done something that would leave the twinkly one disappointed.

“I was eavesdropping,” Trixie confessed, and her foreleg wrapped a little tighter around Sumac. “Pebble and I aren’t so different. I wanted a fight to happen with my mother. When I saw her, my blood boiled and my brain bubbled and I was filled with so much emotion. Trixie was distressed by the sight of her own mother. The panic set in… and then I waited for a reason. Just one little slip-up. One hoof out of line and I was going to let my mother have it. I was looking forward to the release, the sweet, sweet release that a good fight brings. And when my mother did not give me, the Sad and Disappointed Trixie exactly what I wanted, what I craved, what I deserved, I resented her and hated her guts just a little bit, Sumac.”

No matter what sort of mental gymnastics Sumac did in his mind, he could not comprehend his mother’s words, and this scared him far more than he cared to admit. His mother was being bad.

“Instead, we had a nice time, and I can’t seem to be satisfied. I told Twinkleshine and Lemon about it, and while Lemon was sweet about it in her own special way, Twinkleshine let me have it. She sentenced me to one bath and one nap with you, Sumac, and no naptime snuggles with them. She’s mean, Sumac, real mean.”

“Eeyup.”

With a nudge of her magic, Trixie turned off the flow of water, which now came up to Sumac’s chin. While the water was deep for Sumac, it was rather shallow for Trixie, which was the cost of bathing with small, dependent offspring. The rise and fall of his mother’s barrel rocked Sumac, and when he closed his open eye again he also let out a yawn. It had been a long day so far, perhaps too long, and maybe, just maybe, he really was in need of a nap. A short nap had a way of taking too long a day and cutting it into more manageable halves.

“Kiddo…”

“Yeah?”

“That eavesdropping that I did, I heard quite a lot.” Trixie lifted her other foreleg and rivulets of water poured down in a torrential flow as her sodden pelt shed excess liquid. “The Apple sisters have been giving you some grief for a while I take it, and you’ve been a good colt about it—”

“I tried,” Sumac interjected and he felt Trixie’s tail shift beneath him.

“Trixie knows.” In Trixie’s response, there was no doubt to be heard, only confident reassurance. “Now Trixie has more to ask of you. It sounds like you have a chance to get close to Ambrosia. Use this to your advantage, Kiddo. I want you to have family, even if it might not be perfect. Trixie understands that you might not have much in common with the Apple sisters, but they are your blood, Sumac. You are going to have an interesting life, and you need all the help you can get. You need family that you can fall back on, in case something ever happens to me. You need ponies who will look after you and protect you.”

“What are you saying?” Though he didn’t intend to do so, Sumac whined out his question.

“Trixie had to send you away once, and that was a painful lesson. Kiddo, you might have to be sent away again, or I might be called away to help Twilight with something. Big things are happening, Kiddo, and with circumstances being what they are, we might get separated for a while. You might end up with the Pies, or the Apples, or here with Tarnish and his family… but I want you with ponies that love and care about you, Kiddo. So I want you to be your charming self and I need you to make nice with the Apple sisters.”

“What are you saying exactly?” Sumac asked.

“Kiddo, you’re a smart Kiddo, so Trixie knows that Kiddo knows exactly what she is saying.”

Reclining on his mother’s stomach, Sumac’s right ear twitched and made a wet slap against her ribs. He thought about what his mother was saying, and she was right, he knew. She wanted him to use his influence—if necessary—to establish a good relationship with the Apple sisters. He understood the why of it all, at least in a general sense. There were special rules when trouble started and that had always been the case going as far back as Sumac could remember. Trixie was more than willing to play nice and make nice on the road, but the rules changed when he was in danger and then Trixie used not-nice magic.

Knowing what his mother wanted, Sumac resolved to do it the hard way, using his influence as little as possible, and would only fall back on that if the hard way failed. He was almost certain that things would be different now between him and Ambrosia. Though they had little in common—she was a bumpkin and he was an egghead—they were both Apples and that meant something.

Hidden Rose might be harder to win over, but Sumac was certain that he could do it.

“There was nothing to keep me at home, Kiddo, and I don’t want that happening to you. I want you to stay rooted, Sumac. I want to give you a home, and a reason to stay, and I want you to have family around.”

Sumac, hearing the pain in his mother’s voice hesitated before making his reply: “Dandy Lion is family.”

There was a wet splash and the water in the tub sloshed to and fro while Trixie shifted her body. Sumac felt a gentle squeeze from the foreleg wrapped around him, a much-needed silent bit of reassurance to let him know that his mother wasn’t angry about what he had said. However, it seemed as though she had some trouble saying something in return, and Sumac understood why.

It was complicated.

If he had to put down roots, then so did his mother, and little Sumac began to make plans to drive that point home. Anything good for him was doubly good for his mother. After all, as he had discovered, Twinkleshine had also sentenced Trixie to a bath and a nap—with no snuggles from Lemon or Twinkleshine. It was harsh, but fair. Sumac was loathe to admit it, but their little family needed Twinkleshine—really, all of them needed each other—and while he contemplated this thought, the throbbing ache in his neck began to subside.

Seeing only the inside of his eyelids, Sumac wondered what sort of fun Boomer might be having with Megara, and then felt a slight pang of jealousy. Natural enemies in the wild, the pair were now perfect friends and this made Sumac just a teensy-weensy bit envious of their friendship. Boomer wanted to play, she liked to roughhouse and romp, and Sumac was in no position to do either.

Now his thoughts meandered to Spike the Dragon, and he wondered if Spike was having a nice time tobogganing. Did Twilight get jealous when Spike spent time with other friends? Something warm and wet poured over Sumac’s body, something like maple syrup, or perhaps his overactive imagination could only think of maple syrup. With some caution, he cracked open one eye, felt the sting of the light, and saw that Trixie was squirting liquid soap on him.

Floral soap.

Twinkleshine’s dreadful vengeance was now realised and Sumac almost felt like crying.

Squeezing his eye shut, Sumac squirmed a bit but there wasn’t much he could do. The purple-blue soap smelled like mountain meadows filled with alpine wildflowers, and he had stood in such places, so he knew the scent. The squeeze bottle made a flatulent sound and he felt a gooshy glop go plop in his mane, just above his horn. It felt just like bird droppings, and Sumac knew that sensation all too well, having sought shade beneath many a tree.

“Kiddo, your socks are most noticeable after you’ve had a bath and you’re all clean and bright. Adorable little socks. It’s like you’re wearing little booties!”

Groaning, Sumac suffered a mighty, mighty cringe from hearing baby talk from his mother. There could be no doubt about it, Twinkleshine was dastardly. Sumac could feel the soap being rubbed into his scalp and Trixie’s magic was a warm, massaging tingle that caused jolts of ecstasy to go shooting up and down his spine. No point in resisting and with a sigh, he resigned himself to his cruel fate.

“Okay Kiddo, quiz time,” Trixie said while she continued her fabulous assault upon Sumac’s mane. “Fire magic comes from the Infernium, but where does storm magic come from? From whence does come the mighty magic of thunder and lightning?”

Both of Sumac’s eyes flew open, but upon remembering the eye-stinging dangers posed by soap, he shut them once more. This was a tough one and he knew the story behind it, but he couldn’t remember the name. Racking his brain, he tried to remember the complicated name, but failed. Perhaps if he recited what he could remember of the story that Trixie told him…

“There once was a mighty and proud alicorn and he contained the magic of sparks,” Sumac began, and he recalled all of the times that Trixie had told him this story, either before bed, or while they walked the many roads of Equestria together. “But having spark magic wasn’t enough, and he was greedy, so he started to roam the land so that he could steal spark magic from other creatures.”

Extreme drowsiness now crashed into Sumac like a train, and that made concentration difficult. Trixie scrubbing him was going to be his undoing, and it made it super-hard to keep going with this story. However, his excitement allowed him to keep his focus, because this was one of his favourite stories, because he had spark magic, and lots of it.

“This alicorn stole the spark magic of many and with his growing power came madness. It wasn’t enough to steal the spark magic from the lesser creatures, and so he began to steal it from the pegasus ponies, the unicorns, the griffons, and even his fellow alicorns. He stole and he stole, caring not for the broken lives he left behind him, and he was consumed by his greed.”

“Very good, Kiddo. You show some signs of being a storyteller. That’s a good use for your grift magic. Entertain others and make them happy.”

Eyes closed, Sumac beamed and almost got soap in his mouth. “After stealing so much magic, this alicorn began to change, and he was transformed by his greed and his lusk for power—”

“Lust, Kiddo.”

“Right, lust for power. He was consumed and became a monster. The other alicorns had to come and battle him, and so did the pegasus ponies, and the griffons, and even the storm dragons, because this evil alicorn had started to steal their magic too.”

“Keep going, Kiddo,” Trixie said, and her tone was one of encouragement.

“This alicorn was unstoppable and he ripped open the very sky itself. He burned away the blue and set the sky ablaze. He was too powerful, too dangerous, and every one of the creatures who had come together knew that he had to be stopped. To weaken him, they destroyed his name, and this robbed him of some of his power, but he smote them in return with a terrible fury. Too late, the good creatures found out this alicorn was now immortal and could not be killed. He was an immortal monster now and he began to ravage the world—”

“Yes, Kiddo… but what was his new name?” Trixie asked.

“I’m getting to that,” Sumac replied, stalling for time, because he couldn’t remember. “The weather of the world was broken forever…”—here, the colt paused because accounts varied about who had broken the world’s weather—“and the dead sky had turned grey. The alicorn, now a monster, had stolen the sky’s spark magic and claimed it as his own. For the good creatures of the world, defeat seemed certain, because there was no way to fix what was broken.”

Now, Sumac’s ears were being scrubbed, and his head swayed from side to side while a blissful, dopey grin appeared upon his face.

“In desperation, the creatures used powerful, ancient, forbidden magics, and they destroyed the monster alicorn’s body. To keep his body from reforming, from being reborn, they bound his furious soul into the sky itself, giving it life again, but also the destroyed monster’s fury. Now he was a monster without a body and he was called… he was called—”

“Yes, Sumac?” Trixie waited while scrubbing the colt’s ears.

In what had to be a stroke of luck or genius, Sumac remembered. “He was called ‘The Tempestatibus’ and when he was bound into the sky, it made rips in reality where strange storm magic poured out. The Tempestatibus was bound, but he was not defeated, and the pegasus pony tribe and the griffons made a sacred vow to watch the skies and to battle The Tempestatibus’ fury so that he could not return. This is why the pegasus ponies battle storms, and call them the ancient enemy, for if any storm grows too big, too powerful, The Tempestatibus might tear himself free from his prison in the sky and return to destroy us all.”

Trixie let out a hooting cry of triumph that echoed in a strange way off of the bathroom walls and Sumac could feel his heart pounding in his barrel. He had remembered, and his mother was proud. Other details percolated through his mind, coming up to the surface, and he knew that he had a special connection to The Tempestatibus, not only because he had spark magic, but because he was a sorcerer. Sumac knew that he could call a storm… and it would answer.

But calling a storm was dangerous, and using spark magic had a special danger all its own, because to channel spark magic meant to also channel The Tempestatibus’ rage. Sumac had felt it already, the fury, the anger, the choleric fits of temper. Whenever he shot lightning from his horn, he could feel it, the prickly, peppery peevishness that made him want to shoot more lightning, and more lightning, and the real challenge was learning how to hold it back.

Though it felt so good to let it go…

On hot, sticky, muggy summer days, Sumac made for a mighty fine bug zapper and it was a source of pride for him. Thinking of it, he was swept away by memory; the curious scent of citronella candles filled his nose and he thought of the sweaty summer days of Horseshoe Bay. How old had he been? He couldn’t recall, but Trixie had taught him how to swim and he had pronked in the surf. Trixie had fireballed a sea serpent that had tried to gobble him, and the charred, crispy corpse had been feasted upon by seabirds.

Those were happy times.

And so, while his mother scrubbed his dirty, scruffy ears, Sumac realised that these too, were happy times.

Author's Note

Um...

Chapter 39

Standing in the doorway, Sumac hesitated to enter the wondrous classroom filled with the best and the brightest little unicorns. Nothing but unicorns in a bright, sunny classroom filled with the best, most wonderful learning materials that money could buy. Behind the desk at the front of the room was Princess Celestia, and she had a pleasant, sunny smile.

“Do come in, little Sumac Apple, and have a seat,” Princess Celestia said in the most inviting of voices. “Come in, sit down, and embrace your future.”

Something, perhaps his introversion, prevented Sumac from entering the classroom. He lingered in the door, uncertain, because this classroom was a little crowded for his tastes… plus, something seemed off. But what? Try as he might, Sumac could not remember why he was here. When had he come to Canterlot to attend Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns? There was no memory of arrival, no trip by train, no thoughts of Canterlot.

Every student in the class had turned their heads and were now looking at him. Seeing all those eyes staring at him—staring into him—made Sumac want to melt into the floor. It was a special kind of awful, one he could never quite face, and he wanted to retreat. It was almost as if he was shrinking beneath their gaze, growing smaller, or the classroom was somehow growing larger.

“Sumac, do come in please, you are disrupting the class.” Princess Celestia was now commanding, but gentle, and Sumac felt bad for disobeying her.

But he still couldn’t move because he was rooted to the spot. “Why am I here?”

“Class, young Sumac Apple has mistaken Magical Theory for Philosophy.” There was a laugh from the alicorn schoolmarm and both of her front hooves came to rest upon her desk. “Shall we humour him? Hmm? Very well. Sumac Apple, you are here for the same reason that all of us are here. To achieve greatness. Isn’t that what you wanted? To be great? To become a great and powerful wizard?”

“Yeah.” Sumac licked his lips, shuffled a bit, and nodded just to be extra polite. “But… I had friends… there was…” He had to struggle to remember, there was something that was difficult to recall. Something that didn’t want to be remembered, and when he did, it caused him great pain. “There was Ponyville, and I had family there, and friends… I was already going to school.”

“Ponyville is a backwater.” Princess Celestia’s voice was still warm, pleasant, and sunny, but there was also something threatening about it, something menacing. “What could you possibly learn there? Are you not a gifted unicorn? You haven’t even learned how to control your talent there, so now you are here, where you can finally achieve greatness.”

“I had friends though… I was learning other things…”

“Friends who were not unicorns… and time spent learning trivial things is time wasted, time that is spent not learning magic. You were wasting your life in Ponyville, Sumac. A dreadful, terrible waste. That is no way to become great and powerful.”

First day in class and he was arguing with the teacher. This was pretty bad and reflected poorly upon him. Something unknown now gleamed in Schoolmarm Celestia’s eyes, something not nice, something that made his guts slither inside of him in a most unpleasant, most uncomfortable way. The need to obey was strong—but the need to question was stronger.

“Sumac Apple, you couldn’t control your magic so the decision was made to send you here, before you did more damage to your family and friends. Poor little Sumac Apple… potty trained, but not magic trained. Class, can you tell me where little unicorns who aren’t magic trained end up?”

In unison, as one, the class replied, “Magical Kindergarten!”

Something invisible grabbed Sumac and when he was yanked forwards, he yelped. The door slammed behind him as he was pulled through the room and while he whimpered in protest, he was slammed into his chair with a great deal of force. The class was laughing now, laughing, pointing, and teasing, and it was all too much to bear for Sumac, who was overwhelmed.

The sting of tears blurred his eyes and he sucked in great lungfuls of air, gulping, swallowing, trying to breathe again. Panic gripped him, squeezed him, and crushed his soul. The laughter of his classmates became distorted, unnatural, and Schoolmarm Celestia’s fiery gaze never left him. She never even blinked. Fear and rage were awful things for Sumac, terrible things, the worst things in the world, and rather than collapse inwards, he felt his temper rising.

When the first tear fell, his rage was already starting to bubble and he felt a hot snakey sensation in his guts. Humiliated, terrified, afraid, his rage overwhelming, Sumac lashed out with the intent to silence his classmates the only way he knew how.

“Being great and powerful isn’t about what you do,” the colt said in a shrill whine, “it’s what you hold back!”

Reaching out with his mind, the windows behind him shattered, imploding inwards into thousands of jagged shards that fell to the floor with a terrific cacophony. Schoolmarm Celestia was unmoving, a statue affixed behind her desk, watching, waiting, her fiery eyes never blinking or leaving Sumac. Reaching deep within, Sumac found his rage, his grief, his pent up frustrations, and with these things, he found power.

This power, he poured into his voice…

“You!” he barked the word at the filly sitting beside him. “Pick up that glass! But not with your magic!”

The exceptionally bright green filly hesitated, shook her head, and let out a whimper.

“Pick up the glass! Sumac poured everything he had into his words.

Even though the filly was shaking her head no, even though her eyes were pleading, her body betrayed her, and she slipped out of her chair. Jerking like a marionette, she walked over to where the shards of glass lay upon the floor, whimpering with every step, no doubt trying to resist the dreadful force that compelled her to action.

“Pick up the glass… do it!” Sumac’s spoken command was impossible to resist.

Reaching out, she prodded at the glass shards with her hoof, moving them into a pile, until one of them stood up a little from the others. Now sobbing, she blubbered, but could not resist Sumac’s words. When her fetlock wrapped around the jagged glass, she shrieked and ribbons of scarlet could be seen running down her hoof.

“So you do show power… but can you be great?” Schoolmarm Celestia asked in the iciest of tones.

“Put it in your eye,” Sumac commanded, and his words were every bit as cold as Schoolmarm Celestia’s. When the filly hesitated, bleating with terror, he shouted with all of the magic force he could muster, “Stick it in your eye! Now! Do as I say!”

With glacial slowness, the filly raised her foreleg and blood trickled down to the floor, splashing in terrible droplets that mingled with her tears. Rotating her foreleg, the point of the jagged shard of glass was raised, and was aimed at her face. She trembled, she shrieked, but she could not resist the compulsion.

“Do as I say.” Sumac, consumed by rage, could feel nothing else. No pity, no remorse, and but oh how he did revel in the fact that his new classmates were no longer laughing. Like the filly under his complete and total domination, his classmates cried, they whimpered, and were utterly helpless.

Schoolmarm Celestia waited.

With the glass now mere inches from the filly’s wide, terrified eye, his classmate’s shrieks of protest almost deafened Sumac. The pointed edge crept closer, closer, the filly’s foreleg having betrayed her, and Sumac gloated while revelling in what his power could do. He had always held back, he had always watched what he said, he was mindful of how he spoke to others—but not now. They wanted to see Great and Powerful?

He would show them Great and Powerful!

“Sumac, wake up!”

With a snort, Sumac tried to make sense of his surroundings and nothing made sense. His mouth was full of cotton it felt like, his ears had a dreadful ring to them, and his heart was certain to come flying out of his ribs at any moment. Legs flailing about, he was shook—hard—and he was almost certain that he could smell blood. Or could he?

“Kiddo, wake up! Wake up! You’re having some kind of bad dream! Snap out of it!”

Was he dreaming? Hard to tell. Lingering between the world of dreams and the waking world, Sumac was trapped in limbo, though he did not know this. The sound of his mother’s voice seemed so comforting, but there was power to be had—power to be taken! His psyche almost tore itself in two while trying to figure out which direction to go.

Real good—and a far more real evil—beckoned to him.

But what good was power without friends? Family?

“Kiddo! Come on, you’re scarin’ Mama!”

“No!” Sumac shouted, a command intended solely for himself and his body stiffened, seized by the power of his own magic compulsion. “Return to what is good! Do as I command!”

“Kiddo, things get weird sometimes. Magic does that. Welcome to unicornhood.”

Pressed against his mother’s barrel, lulled by the sensation of her beating heart, Sumac tried to sort out the contents of his head while also listening to his mother’s voice. They lay in the bed together and she was stroking the back of his neck while saying soothing, reassuring things into his ear. A heavy blanket covered him and was pulled over his head, blocking out the world.

“I’m not sure what happened, but it’s over now. It’s all over now.”

“Why do bad dreams happen?” Sumac asked, his muffled voice rising up through the blanket.

“Well, sometimes, for our own good. Sometimes we need to face things in a safe environment, and dreams allow us to do that. We face our fears, our troubles, our doubts, and when we do, when we are sincere, we can start to heal from things that have hurt our minds. I’ve had a lot of nightmares myself and I’ve had to face down a lot of my mistakes.”

“Evil feels good and that scares me,” Sumac confessed.

“Kiddo, yes it does. It is one of the greatest feelings in the world, and when you feel it once, you want to keep feeling it. Power is addictive. I think… I think I know that better than just about anypony I know. It’s a rush.”

“I used my voice to do bad things… in the dream I mean… awful things. I wish I didn’t have a voice at all. Any voice. Magical or otherwise.”

“Kiddo… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna be hard on ya.” Trixie hesitated for several long seconds before she continued, “Evil takes on many forms and some are far more insidious than others. It is deceptive and it worms its way through your brain. You have a great gift… and to not use it for the potential good you can do with it out of the fear of doing evil or harm… that is succumbing to evil, make no mistake. You have The Grift, Kiddo, just like your father. You’re stuck with it. But you don’t have to be like him.”

Even though he did not intend to, Sumac whined when he replied, “But it scares me!”

“Kiddo, you’ve had a long day. So much has happened today and when you finally got to take your nap, you had a rotten dream of some sort. So now the day feels longer and it’s not even done yet. Would you like some tea? A glass of milk, maybe? Want to rescue Pebble from the corner?”

Sumac wanted none of these things, at least at the moment, though he was thirsty and he longed to see Pebble. “Just a few more minutes here… with you… and then maybe some tea.”

“Okay,” Trixie replied while pulling Sumac closer, “just a few more minutes of snuggles for the both of us.”

Author's Note

How long did it take you?

Chapter 40

A haunting sound came from the strings of Octavia’s cello, a mournful dirge that seemed to be the sum of all of the world’s sorrows. Sumac listened while he was carried into the kitchen and watched as Octavia stood and played in an out of the way corner. The room wasn’t freezing, but it was chilly enough after being in a warm bed that Sumac almost shivered. He didn’t make it very far before he was snatched, plucked from Trixie’s back, and he was taken by Pinny of all ponies.

Pinny was big enough to baby Sumac, and by comparison, he was no more than a yearling when compared to the giantess. He was flipped right over, a disorienting, dizzying move, and then he found himself cradled in the crook of her foreleg. Sumac was far too big to be babied by most mares, and now he found himself in the most awkward of positions, because this was rather comfortable and warm—but also dreadful, because, babying.

Boomer came running over, lept, and landed upon Sumac’s exposed stomach. The points of her claws caused the most awful prickle-tickle and she made herself right at home using Sumac as a sofa. Awake, alert, and aware, Boomer was in a state of fine fettle. Of course, the awake part could change at a moment’s notice.

Sumac knew that Pebble and the others were no doubt standing in the corner still, but the kitchen was missing many faces. Of Megara there was no sign, and the Pies seemed absent, including Maud. Vinyl tinkered with some kind of contraption that appeared to be writing musical notes on a strip of paper that spewed out while Octavia played. This captured Sumac’s curiousity, but he was in no condition to go over and investigate.

Other than Octavia’s mournful melody, the quiet persisted; nopony said a thing. Pinny said nothing, Boomer was quiet, the kitchen remained wordless. Lemon Hearts pulled Trixie in for a quick peck on the cheek, but Trixie it seemed had other plans and turned the tables on Lemon with an enthusiastic smooch. Twinkleshine shuffled a deck of cards, she smiled, but she remained in silence.

It was blissful.

Lemon Hearts went to work preparing tea while Trixie and Twinkleshine also shared a smooch, though this one was a bit more hesitant and awkward. Though it was embarrassing to watch, something about it comforted Sumac, perhaps because everything felt right with the world. The machine was still spitting out paper and Vinyl appeared to be suffering in mute frustration. Comfortable and content, Boomer licked one eye, and then the other.

Then, without further ado, Boomer broke the silence. “Two,” she announced while holding up two clawed fingers. Looking thoughtful and possessing bright, gleaming, freshly-licked eyeballs, she seemed to struggle with whatever came next. “After?”

“Three,” Sumac replied, and he watched a third clawed finger pop up beside the first two. He could see the look of immense concentration upon Boomer’s face, and he wondered if such vigourous thinking heated up Boomer’s brain, because she licked her eyeballs again, much to his disgust.

“After?” Holding out her tiny hand, she held up three clawed fingers right in front of Sumac’s snoot.

“Four.”

Another clawed finger popped up. “After?”

“Five.”

Now, Boomer seemed vexed and perplexed, and Sumac watched, waiting, wondering where this was going. From up above him, high up above him, Pinny’s face stared down and she too, seemed curious. Twinkleshine was dealing cards but had her eyes on Boomer. After much struggle, and some eyeball licking, the little dragon brought her other hand to bear.

“After?” she demanded.

“Six.” And just like magic, Sumac’s words caused another clawed finger to spring up.

It seemed that Boomer would run out of digits before she ran out of curiousity. “After?”

Very much like a patient older brother, Sumac supplied the answer: “Seven.”

“After?”

“Eight, nine, and ten, Boomer.”

When the baby dragon ran out of clawed fingers, she let out a muted honk of distress. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. After?”

Sumac, who was getting ready to reply, saw Tarnish leading a line of fillies behind him. They were small, but seemed even smaller behind him, with their heads not even reaching his hocks. His neck was longer than some ponies' legs. Pebble seemed to be in a good mood, along with Ambrosia—surprising, given that they had been standing in the corner for hours. Hidden Rose appeared miserable though.

“Sorry, Boomer, we’ll have to do this later.” Turning his attention to Tarnish, Sumac said, “Mister Teapot—”

“One little spot of trouble and suddenly I’m ‘Mister Teapot.’ What gives?” Tarnish stood in place while the fillies all darted around his legs to go and sit down at the table.

“I have a question,” Sumac said, and the colt wondered if, perhaps, he was letting his curiousity get the better of him. Taking a deep breath, he committed himself to this question, because he had to know. It was a matter of science. For science, great risks had to be taken, otherwise, what was the point of living?

“Shoot.” Tarnish’s ears stood up when the kettle clanged against the iron stovetop.

“How did you and Maud make Pebble?” Sumac asked in the innocent way of foals everywhere and he heard a strange sound come from Octavia’s cello, an awful sound that could not be described. “I’ve watched farm animals do it, but for you and her, it’s a problem of reach. How?” He felt Pinny shaking now and the mare holding him made strange noises down deep in her long neck. “The parts that need to connect are too far away from each other.”

Twinkleshine’s shuffled cards went shooting across the room, flying everywhere, covering everything, and something about this caused Trixie to become beet red. Turning away, Trixie made the mistake of looking at Tarnish, which only intensified her redness, and she hastily turned to look elsewhere. A truly awful cacophony came from Octavia’s cello and Vinyl had removed her glasses to stare at poor Sumac. Pebble had turned a shade of radiant black-brown and had covered her face with her front hooves. Ambrosia facehoofed and her sister, Hidden Rose, did the same a second later.

“We had to fill out a lot of government requisition forms,” Tarnish said without skipping a beat. “And when that was over, we had to go down the hall where they keep the forms for high rise construction. Once we had that done, Princess Celestia herself had to keep an eye on our creative doings to make certain that proper safety procedures were observed. What happened next was fraught with danger and involved ropes and climbing gear.”

“Are you pulling my leg?” Sumac asked.

“No,” Tarnish replied in deadpan. “Princess Celestia was there. Ask her yourself, I’m sure that she’d love to tell you the story of how Maud climbed the mountain. Just ask her the next time you see her.”

Eyes narrowing, Sumac tried to tell if Tarnish was telling the truth. Octavia had given up on playing her cello. Twinkleshine was playing fifty-two pickup. Lemon Hearts was biting her lip while she stood next to the stove. Pinny was shaking and distressing noises could be heard coming from her. No matter how hard he tried, Sumac could not determine if Tarnish was telling the truth.

“Very well”—Sumac squirmed in Pinny’s embrace while she trembled—“I’ll ask Princess Celestia the next time I see her.”

“You do that, Kiddo.” Trixie, still blushing a furious red, bobbed her head up and down in a manic, disturbing sort of way. “It’ll be a good chance for you to get to know the mysterious workings of our government bureaucracy. Trixie is positive that Princess Celestia would love a chance to explain all of this.”

The adults were being weird again.

“Now that we have that out of the way, Hidden Rose, I do believe that you have something to say to Sumac.” A dreadful hardness could be heard in Tarnish’s voice and all of his friendly jovialness was gone. “Go on, do the right thing and save yourself. Otherwise, you know what will happen.”

Without warning, the world wobbled; Sumac found himself lifted and then dumped into a seat, which sent poor Boomer scrambling. She lept to the table, landed, scanned her surroundings with both eyes pointing in different directions, and then dove into the fruit bowl with a terrifying snarl.

Hidden Rose appeared to be sitting on red hot coals, given how she squirmed in her seat. Sumac knew the feeling a little too well; it was difficult to perform under pressure, and an apology was a performance. It had to be a believable performance too, something that was done right on the first try, otherwise things would only get worse. Just a few months ago, Lemon Hearts taught them all about apologising in a special class, and when the time had come for Silver Lining to pretend to apologise, she had broken down in tears.

No doubt, his poor cousin had all of the same fears he did; spanking first and foremost among them. It was always a looming threat, always a fear, something that always came to mind when consequences were thought of. The fear of a spanking was worse than the spanking itself, to be sure, though Sumac couldn’t be certain about this. His mind went to dark places, to things that he had trouble remembering—things he didn’t want to remember—the shadowy time with his real mother.

Shivering, he pushed those thoughts out of his head and reminded himself that he had three real mothers now. Real ones. Ones who loved him and did what was best for him. Still, the pain, the fear persisted, something awful that lurked on the edges of memory, something best left forgotten. Resting his front legs against the table’s edge, Sumac looked his struggling cousin in the eye.

“Look, I’m a lot like my Ma… when I get riled, I get stupid and I act real dumb…”

So far, this was not a good start, but Sumac continued to listen.

“I got real mad, okay? You did that thing you do, and I could feel it takin’ me over, and it got me mad. I was so angry that I couldn’t think right, so I went off and I ran my mouth and I said whatever it was that I could say so I could get you in trouble. Worked up as I was, I wasn’t thinkin’, I was reactin’, and I guess I lied without thinkin’ ‘bout the words comin’ out my mouth, and I’m powerful sorry, ‘cause yer family, and I never meant to hurt yer feelin’s all those other times, ‘cause I was just funnin’ around with you. What do I say to fix this?”

A plate full of cookies was plunked down on the table but nopony went to take one, not yet. Sumac was tempted though, because he was hungry, but he was also thirsty and in need of a drink. Ambrosia glanced at the cookies, but her sister didn’t; no, Hidden Rose stared down at the table, her ears limp as noodles, and she rubbed her front hooves together in distress.

“Sometimes,” Pebble said to Hidden Rose, “you can’t fix what went wrong. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of things blow up in my face and I couldn’t make them right. All I could do was try not to do it again. I’m not so good at that, either. Sumac is the most forgiving pony I know—”

“And that’s why I feel bad!” Hidden Rose blurted out while throwing both of her front hooves up into the air. “He’s nice and he’s probably gonna forgive me even if I don’t deserve it! I feel powerful ashamed!”

“Yeah.” Pebbled sighed the word and then she too, eyeballed the plate of cookies. “That’s the worst of it. There’s been moments when I’ve been less than a perfect friend. Sumac is just about the only friend I have, because nopony wants to put up with my sh—”

“Pebble Pie!” Octavia snapped while pointing her bow at Pebble.

“—enanigans.”

Not satisfied with Pebble’s verbal gymnastics, Octavia’s eyes narrowed and her quivering bow revealed her displeasure. Under most circumstances, this might have been funny, but Sumac wasn’t willing to risk laughing. Lemon too, had a sour look on her face, and as for Tarnish, Sumac guessed that he wasn’t buying Pebble’s quick correction either.

Extending her hoof, Pebble held it out to Hidden Rose. “Here’s to having friends that we don’t deserve.”

After a long moment of hesitation, Hidden Rose stuck out her own hoof, and bumped Pebble’s. It seemed like an earnest moment and Sumac felt satisfied with it, but should he be? The adults were no help, most of them still had angry faces and raised eyebrows. None of them held any indicators that helped Sumac to determine if he should forgive his cousin. Why did this have to be so difficult?

“Sittin’ in the corner left me with a lot of time to think, and I didn’t much like what I had to be thinkin’ ‘bout.” Hidden Rose shrank down in her seat. “I really am sorry. I tease too much and I know it. Big Mac has threatened to tan my hide if’n I don’t stop teasin’ others in school and Miss Cheerilee has threatened to toss me out. I just get carried away. I don’t know how to stop.”

Leaning forward, straining to hold his head up, Sumac decided it was best to be blunt. “Are you a bully?”

Hidden Rose squirmed in her seat, turned away, and then let out a distressed squeal. An odd silence claimed the kitchen, with everything becoming muted somehow. The logs in the fireplace crackled, the fire popped, but very little sound could be heard. Tarnish sighed, but it seemed distant and far away. Ambrosia was chewing on her right front hoof, but the scraping sound of her teeth was almost nonexistent.

“Yeah,” Hidden Rose replied while looking away, “yeah I am.”

“I can’t stand bullies.” Sumac wanted to say more, but didn’t. When Hidden Rose gulped, his temptation to unload was almost unbearable, and for the briefest moment, Sumac wondered if he could make his cousin cry. The temptation blew past though, and after feeling antagonistic for a moment, Sumac was now moved to pity. He realised that he had stood on the threshold of bullying, and found that he didn’t like it. What made a bully progress beyond this point?

With the power of his voice, he could make for a fearsome bully… but at what cost?

“Apples are s’posed to stick together, and I blew it.” Hidden Rose let out a huff, rolled her eyes, and shied away when Pebble reached out to comfort her. “Sumac, give me a chance to turn over a new leaf… and when I’ve done that, I’ll come a askin’ for yer forgiveness. Okay?”

“Deal.” Sumac said nothing more, he didn’t dare, not after the dream that was still fresh in his mind. If Hidden Rose was going to save herself, it had to be her own doing.

“I am actually sorry though. It’s always been just teasin’ and I ain’t ever felt too bad about it, but this time, I do. Ma ‘n’ Mac’ll kill me if I make things a mess with you.” Lifting her head, Hidden Rose dared to look at Sumac. “Bein’ an Apple means something and I can’t ruin that.”

This Sumac trusted, and he nodded, confident that Hidden Rose would make things right. Octavia drew her bow across her strings and once more, she coaxed out a mournful song that filled the kitchen with sorrowful sound. The kettle too, raised its voice in song, a shrill sound that only lasted for a few seconds before Lemon Hearts lifted it from the stove.

“Ask me for help,” Sumac offered.

“You’d help me?” Hidden Rose asked.

“We’re Apples,” Sumac replied.

“I’ll do that… cousin.” Hidden Rose seemed hopeful.

Sumac’s thoughts turned to his grandmother, Dandelia. He felt a hoof touch him and he knew it was Pinny, another pony that had endured great difficulty for forgiveness. Sumac didn’t know the whole of the story, but Tarnish’s magic had estranged him from his own mother—for a time.

“So is everything good?” Ambrosia seemed tense and she waited for Sumac to respond.

“Yeah, everything is good.” Saying this, Sumac watched as Ambrosia relaxed. Content with how things had turned out, Sumac used his magic to pass the cookies around, and he wondered what the adults were thinking. Really, it didn’t matter what the adults were thinking, because they had sorted this out among themselves, and Sumac was happy with the outcome.

“Rose, look!” Ambrosia pointed down with her hoof at her sibling’s backside. “It happened! Look!”

Hidden Rose almost fell out of her chair when she bent in half trying to look at her own hindquarters. “What’s goin’ on? What am I lookin’ at here?” What just happened?”

“Ya big ‘tard, those is apple leaves! Three of ‘em!”

“Why’d I get three apple leaves as a cutie mark? What’n tarnation? Why not an apple?”

Ambrosia shrugged while Tarnish went sprinting off to find a camera. “You wasn’t good enough to get an apple, ya just got the leaves, at least that’s something you can wipe with—”

“Well thanks a lot, ‘Brose!” Glowering at her sibling, Hidden Rose reached down and rubbed her new cutie mark on the right side with her hoof. “Why apple leaves? I didn’t ask for no apple leaves. Nuts and gum!”

Smirking, Sumac put down the plate of cookies just as Tarnish returned with a camera…

Author's Note

Speaking of cutie marks...

Chapter 41

There was cold chaos, utter chaos when the abominable snow ponies invaded. The mudroom door blew open, allowing a gale of snow and anarchy to enter through the mudroom beyond, because the door had not been properly secured. With the snow-phoon came a flood of voices, excited, joyful voices of the abominable snow ponies that were invading. Swirling snowflakes blew in fantastic eddies and a stream of the most vulgar, most ear-blistering language flowed from Octavia’s lips in protest of the frozen backdoor invasion.

Sumac learned not one, but three new words to add to his arsenal of language.

Howling, panting, leaping about with frenzied glee, a ferocious abominable snow manticore spawn cannonballed right into poor Pinny Lane and knocked the giantess from her pins, bowling her over with a horrendous howl. Sumac, who had witnessed this assault, raised a weak, flickering shield around himself, and the rush of snowflakes caused showers of glittery sparkles when they struck the thrumming green field.

For invading his kitchen, Tarnished Teapot engaged the abominable snow Limestone and was forced to duck when she threw her wet, wadded up snow-encrusted scarf at him. Lateral movement saved him and when he caught the scarf, the abominable snow Limestone was ill-prepared to be whipped with her own hurled makeshift missile. A quick smart whip-crack right on the cutie mark sent the abominable snow Limestone scrambling, and she crashed into her abominable snow sister, Maud, sending spewing torrents of snow-gore cascading down to the floor.

“Back into the mudroom with all of you!” Tarnish bellowed while he glowered down at abominal snow Limestone. “You’d think that some of you were raised on a rock farm or something! Begone!” Holding abominable snow Limestone’s scarf aloft, he menaced the entire abominable snow herd with it.

So focused was Tarnish on the abominable snow ponies that he failed to notice the abominable snow manticore flanking him, and when he did by sheer happenstance gain awareness of the lurking, prowling snow beast, it was far too late to prevent the inevitable pounce. The mighty warrior was felled and collapsed into an ever-growing, ever-spreading dusting of snow upon the stone floor. Once felled, the abominable snow Limestone moved in for her revenge, which it seemed was to be served cold, as intended…

Supper had gone by in a blur that Sumac could scarce remember. Too much noise, far too many ponies. All of supper was one excited retelling of the day out, with a whole day of fun in the snow for the Pie family. Sumac didn’t mind listening, but all of this had been told with shouting and far too much overstimulating excitement. It was just too much for the little colt to bear. After his long day, after everything that had happened, it was all too much. As such, he was glad when supper had ended and the herd had broken up.

The much-needed quiet was a welcome relief.

“Vinyl… while illusion magic is magic and the standard approach applies, it is not enough.” While Trixie spoke, an apple sprouted legs and took off sprinting down the table with Boomer in hot, smoke-snorting pursuit.

Upon capture, the apple vanished entirely, leaving poor Boomer confused and distraught. Sumac, wrapped up in his poncho, allowed himself to smile at Boomer’s misfortune but paid attention to the magic lesson in progress, the quiet, peaceful, soothing magic lesson that kept his thoughts occupied whilst his mind relaxed. Blinking, Boomer waited for another piece of fruit to do something.

“For illusion, you can’t just focus your concentration and your will,” Trixie continued in a low voice and each spoken word sent hypnotic ripples over the surface of her hot chocolate. “Focus the senses, Vinyl. For visual illusions, focus upon what you want the eye to see and let your eyes do the work. They’ll know. We’re unicorns, and our sensory organs are all magical. They teach us that in Princess Celestia’s school. All of our sensory organs have a connection in some form to our horns. With the right alchemical concoctions, a unicorn can change what they see, and how they see it. This is also true for hearing, smell, taste, and touch.”

“And we have a magic sense.” Sumac felt silly saying it, because of course they knew it, but he couldn’t let the moment go by without mentioning it.

“So what you're saying is,” said Vinyl in Octavia’s borrowed voice, and whose muzzle was crinkled in deep concentration. “Is that I have to do that zebra zero focus thing and turn off my brain. The harder I think about it, the worse I’ll make the problem? I’ve got to let my ears shape the magic?”

“Is that so hard?” Trixie leaned forwards a bit towards Vinyl, smiled, and her ears pivoted forwards. “Your ears have a direct connection to your horn. Lie detection spells, roving ear spells, clairaudience spells, there are many spells that harness the magic of the horn-ear connection. You’re a sound engineer, Vinyl. This should be second nature to you.”

At this, Vinyl sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t. My ears are good, but I’ve never given them a direct connection to my magic before. At least, not that I’m aware of.”

“Visualise it. Imagine plugging in some sound equipment and then check out what works. Illusions are far simpler than unicorns let on. There is all of this talk of complexity and difficulty but most of the fuss is imaginary. Less thinking, more doing. Illusion is less cognitive and more visceral.”

Again, an apple sprouted legs and took off for a run, but this time, Boomer was wary. She watched, her eyes glittering with draconic intelligence, but then she just couldn’t help herself. Frills and spines set in the maximum aggression position, she attacked; just as before, the apple vanished, leaving behind a flustered dragon.

Everypony had their own approach to magic; Trixie and Vinyl both had different ways and means. Sumac had big thoughts and wondered if maybe schools were wrong to try and get foals to learn in one specific way, when maybe they would be better served by another method. He learned by doing, watching, and observing. Trixie would show him a few ways to deal with a magical problem and then get out of his way so he could figure it out. While this had worked for him so far up to this point in his life, magic instruction in Twilight’s school took a far different approach, methodical, with lots of theory, book learning, how and why, the nuts and bolts of magic. While Sumac was capable, he supposed, he felt that he did better by just doing things and then sorting out the fine details later.

Vinyl took a nuts and bolts approach, which made sense to Sumac. It was what engineers did, he reckoned. In preparation for crafting her voice, Vinyl delved into books and thoroughly investigated the hows and whys of illusion, of voice projection, of ventriloquism. In contrast, Sumac found that books were great things to turn to when the first attempt failed. For Sumac, failure was important. Every great thing started with failure, even if failure was sometimes awful.

Was being a pegasus pony or an earth pony this hard? Sumac didn’t know. But what he did know was that many unicorns forwent magic altogether and existed with the most basic of understandings. A little telekinesis for fine manipulation was all they ever needed or wanted. During his travels with Trixie, Sumac had encountered many such unicorns and he never quite knew what to think of them.

Magic had rules, many of them contradictory, and magic had effects, again, most of which were contradictory. It didn’t like to be studied, or measured beyond the most basic of observations. A thaumaton counter could measure the ambient levels of magic in a given area and that was about it. Beyond that, one ran into risks as magic would make a concerted effort to resist complex measurements.

“In your ear, imagine a sound that you want to hear and then project that sound.”

The sound of his teacher’s voice snapped Sumac from his thoughts. Teacher? No, mother. She had been his teacher, his master, so it was still easy to think of her this way. A good teacher too. When he wanted to investigate the tidal pools on the beach to look for sea monsters, she had encouraged him and never once said that he would never find an enormous sea monster in such a tiny tidal pool.

“But how?” Vinyl asked.

“Well, how are you projecting Octavia’s voice and everything else?”

For a moment, Vinyl sat in perplexed silence and then she replied, “I don’t know. It’s different. That sound exists. My voice… the voice I imagine myself having, that’s just it. How do I make imagination real?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Trixie laughed; it was not a haughty sound, but a good-natured and pleasant bit of mirth.

Sumac watched Vinyl shake her head but could not read her current state of emotion.

“Imagination is the foundation of magic,” Trixie went on and she gestured at the burning fire. “If I imagine that something is burning hard enough, I’ll set it ablaze. Everything begins and ends with imagination. Everything is governed by this principle. If I make believe hard enough at something, one of two things will happen; I will either set it on fire or I will make a very convincing illusion that it is on fire.”

“I make things burn by being angry.” Vinyl’s blunt confession caused Trixie to sit back and there was a wet slosh from her cocoa cup. “All I have to do is get mad. I think about all of the unfair things in the world. The bad things. I think about how awful it is to be mute. Lately, I’ve been thinking about that bug bitch taking Sumac and the fires just start right up. I think about the big fight that day and how they were in our home. And most of all, I keep thinking about how horrified the ponies around us were because Tarnish was killing changelings rather than be horrified that there were changelings. I think about these things and the fires just start right up.”

In silence, Trixie nodded, and Sumac got the feeling that his mother understood.

Sumac knew of another way to start fires; one gave the molecules in the area to be ignited a playful tickle and kept doing so until something happened. Gaining molecular awareness was the first step towards becoming a wizard and Sumac had mastered this early on, but only because Trixie was a patient, dutiful teacher.

“Direct all of that same energy into giving yourself a voice.” Reaching across the table, Trixie gripped Vinyl’s fetlock in her own and gave it a squeeze. “Perhaps you can imagine telling those ponies off for being silly. For not having common sense. Imagine how good it would feel to rant at them for being stupid, because Tarnish was there to save them and the changelings were there to bring them harm.”

Vinyl was still for a moment, thoughtful, and she made a slow nod. “Thank you, Trixie, I’ll keep that in mind. That actually helps me out quite a bit.”

“I’m glad I could help…”

Pebble’s bed could only be described as crowded, packed as it was with warm, fuzzy bodies. Well, there was one scaley body that was rather spiny, but it was warm and could be cuddled if you snuggled against it just right. Pebble, Hidden Rose, and Ambrosia were all up at the head of the bed, while Sumac, Boomer, and Megara were tucked in at the foot. The bed was long enough to give everypony enough room to stretch out lengthwise, but one had to be packed in tight widthwise.

Tonight, it was Maud doing the tucking in, but Cloudy was there as well.

“It has been a very long day,” Maud deadpanned and to Sumac, she sounded the way he felt about to day. “Gingerbread houses, visiting grandparents, visiting cousins, and there was a bit of a blowout. Megara got to play in the snow with Limestone, and Limestone it seems, has a new roughhousing buddy. All of you look pretty sleepy.”

Ambrosia yawned out the words, “I’m not sleepy,” in protest and fought to keep her eyes open.

“Pebble, you did something I’m proud of,” Maud continued in her cold iron monotone. “But you also did something I’m none too pleased about. I’m going to let that go though, and tomorrow will be a new day.” With every word she spoke, Maud poked the quilts with her hoof, stuffing them beneath the edge of the mattress.

When Maud tucked you in, it was difficult to move, or to even get out, but it was pleasant enough in a suffocating sort of way. Sumac felt the wooden bed frame creak when Maud reared up onto her hind legs and leaned against the firm but squishy edge of the mattress. She reached over the Apple twins, kissed Pebble goodnight, then did the same for both Hidden Rose as well as Ambrosia, both of whom giggled and squirmed from the affectionate gesture.

The wooden timbers below the bed creaked a little more when Maud moved down the length of the mattress to where Megara lay, and she stroked the manticore’s spiky poofy tufts of mane while looking into her eyes. For a moment, Sumac saw something on Maud’s face, some emotion, but he didn’t know what it was. It was gone in an instant though.

“Nutmeg, pay no attention to what ponies have to say about you. I’m sorry about today. All you need to do is focus on what we think about you, and we love you. My mother, your grandmother, she called you Nutmeg Pie, and I know my mother. She wouldn’t have said that unless she meant it, so I guess that makes you a Pie now—”

“Nopony better dare to challenge me or my word,” Cloudy muttered to herself beneath her breath.

For a moment, Maud paused, turned her head, and looked over at Cloudy. She said nothing, but blinked a few times, all while her ears pivoted in her mother’s direction. After a few seconds, her head swiveled about in an almost mechanical sort of way and she looked down at Megara once more. The stoic grey mare sighed, stroked Megara again, and then her ears relaxed their rigid posture.

“You can be a Teapot, or a Pie, or you can find your own way if that suits you. Family goes beyond a mere name, and when you grow up a bit more, I hope you’ll understand that. We’re all family, Nutmeg. Everypony in this bed with you, all of them are family. Everypony in this house right now, all family. Do right by them and they’ll do right by you.”

“Does that go for us?” Hidden Rose asked in a sleepy voice.

“Yes,” Maud replied with deadpan finality. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Bending her neck, Maud leaned down, kissed Megara, and then peeled back the blanket a bit to find Boomer, who was already sound asleep. With a great deal of gentleness, she kissed Boomer as well, careful not to wake her, and then Maud loomed large in Sumac’s vision. She stared down at him and he up at her; there seemed to be some kind of exchange going on that Sumac just didn’t understand, something important and meaningful.

“Because of you,” Maud said in the softest of deadpans, “I have a better understanding of my mother, and that means an awful lot to me, Sumac. When I brought Tarnish home, my mother accepted him as her son. I didn’t know it at the time, but she taught me an important lesson. Now, here I am in a similar situation with you. I’ve made you my own, Sumac, and you are very dear to me.”

Before Sumac could say anything, he was kissed, and this robbed him of speech. All he could do is blink and look upward in silence. Cloudy said something, but he couldn’t make out what it was. Maud pulled away and Sumac wished that she hadn’t. With her hoof, she smoothed the quilts and blankets once more, covering Boomer, and then she was gone.

“Go on, Maud.” Cloudy gave her daughter a nod and moved to stand beside her. “I think I’ll read to them for a bit and watch them nod off.”

At this, Maud hesitated, and after several seconds she said, “I’ll think I’ll stay.”

In response, Cloudy smiled, which made the corners of her eyes crinkle, and she gave her daughter a full body-bump. “Fine then, suit yourself. Fetch me a storybook, Maudlin Persephone Pie, and be quick about it.”

“Yes, Mom…”

Author's Note

And so ends the Long Day Arc.

I don't even know how many chapters it's been. Many.

When next we begin, there will have been a time skip. Prepare!

Chapter 42

Lemon Hearts must have spent a great deal of time wrapping this gift in the blue and silver paper. Each fold, each crease was perfect, as if it had been pressed with an iron. The gift itself had a satisfying heft to it and inside pieces of something could be heard clunking together. The box was long, with a curious width and depth. Sumac wanted very much to open it, but he hesitated.

“It’s not Hearth’s Warming,” he said to Lemon Hearts.

In response to which she shrugged and said, “Who cares?”

The house around Sumac creaked as the wind howled, no doubt wanting to be inside where it was warm. In the grate, coal made sizzling sounds as it burned and this, along with the scent of hot spiced apple cider gave the room an atmosphere that Sumac would forever associate with holidays as well as togetherness. When he turned his head a little to look over in Pebble’s direction, he felt a slight catch, a twinge in his neck, but it wasn’t bad enough to really pay attention to.

Pebble was watching and waiting.

“Open the box, Sumac.” Trixie sounded quite insistent and she made an impatient gesture with her hoof. “Lemon would not show me what it was and I’ve been dying to know.”

“Yeah, open it.” Twinkleshine pulled Trixie closer with one foreleg while gesturing at Sumac with the other. “You’re the only foal I know that has trouble opening presents. It’s not right, Sumac.”

Even Boomer seemed impatient, sitting in a nest made of shredded gift wrapping in a now empty hat box that Pebble had already plundered. The new sun hat would be lovely come spring. When Boomer fidgeted, the sounds of paper and ribbons rustling could be heard. Megara sat just behind her, and was no doubt tempted to try and bat at the enticing pile of scrap.

“None of you have any discipline whatsoever,” Maud deadpanned. “The whole point is the waiting. The anticipation. You’re supposed to be tortured by the waiting. Torture is good in this instance.”

“Yeah,” Cloudy said, echoing her daughter’s sentiment.

But Limestone seemed to disagree. “No!”

Igneous, sighing, tossed a ball of wadded up wrapping paper, which bounced off of the back of Limestone’s head, and when she turned around, Igneous did his best to look innocent while Tarnish began snickering at Limestone’s annoyance. Sumac watched all of this in overwhelmed silence, as there were too many ponies in one room, too much stimulation, too much to take in all at once.

Maud, perhaps championing the cause of waiting until Hearth’s Warming, had more to say. “None of you have any patience. Try being pregnant for eleven months and waiting for that special day to arrive. That… that is torture.”

To distract Maud from her cause, Tarnish pulled her close, gave her a squeeze, and looked down into her eyes while she looked up at him. “How about I unwrap you?”

“That would be fine,” Maud replied. “Right here and now, in front of everypony. This smock of mine is coming off.”

“No!” Pebble made a fantastic grimace of protest and then shielded her eyes with her foreleg while turning away from her parents.

Limestone kicked the wadded up wrapping paper away from her and Megara, unable to resist the temptation, pounced upon it. She batted it around, to and fro between her broad front paws, until she gave it a hearty smack and it shot beneath the sofa. Not thinking of the consequences of her actions, she launched herself after it, determined to follow it into the darkened shadows beneath the sofa, only Megara was far too big to fit into such a small, confined space.

With a cry of alarm, the sofa was overturned, dumping its occupants in a big fuzzy pile…

The unopened box beckoned. Now that the disastrous catastrophe caused by Megara had been sorted out, there was still the matter of Lemon Heart’s unopened Hearth’s Warming gift and Sumac examined the present with a squinty, critical eye. Not far away, Maud was holding Megara and wasn’t letting go no matter how much the mischievous manticore spawn squirmed. To anypony observing, to any adult observing, it was obvious that Megara wasn’t trying too hard, but offering up token resistance, which was rather expected from one’s young.

There was just too much temptation; wrapping paper, ribbons, bows, dangly things, things that rustled, things that could be batted about, all of these things were objects that Megara wanted to play with. As the overturned sofa had shown, each of these things were a hazard to be wary of.

Pinny, who seemed to share her son’s penchant for taunting fate, dangled a curly bit of ribbon just out of Megara’s reach, causing it to bob up and down, an act that made Maud’s job far more difficult. Pebble, sullen and sulky about taking a tumble, glared at her sibling but said nothing.

“Open the box, Sumac.” There was a curious quality to Tarnish’s voice and hearing it caused Cloudy to smile. “Don’t just sit there looking at it, open it.”

“Let the boy enjoy the moment in his own way,” Igneous said to his son-in-law.

“You know,” Tarnish began, “I seem to recall a few months ago… somepony was really impatient and wanted more grandfoals. And this somepony said to me, ‘Son, don’t just sit there looking at them, get busy doing what needs to be done.’ You caused poor Octavia to go into hiding.”

“That’s different,” Igneous replied while Megara bonelessly stretched out her body to take a swipe at the ribbon Pinny kept teasing her with. “When we discussed the matter of adding to the family, I didn’t know anything about this artificial insemination business that you had planned. I thought you’d go about it the old-fashioned way. Having to go to Manehattan didn’t make much sense to me at the time.”

This was interesting. Sumac’s eyes strayed from his gift and he glanced in the direction of the fascinating conversation taking place between Igneous and Tarnish. There was a faint tickle-prickle when Boomer lept up onto his back, and then she settled into place so she could make a mess of Sumac’s mane.

“You talk about adding to the family before adding to the family?” Sumac asked and he saw that his question caused the adults in the room to all take turns looking at one another. This was one of those questions, and now Sumac could see that everypony was trying to figure out who would answer—but which answer, and why?

“Well yeah…”

With the way that every eye suddenly turned on Limestone and how every ear pricked, Sumac knew that Limestone was being graded. She was about to say something adult in nature, something complicated, complex, and nuanced. Limestone was about to have a defining moment where she proved her worth as an adult—and Sumac’s rapt attention was held by how everypony waited.

“We’re all a family,” Limestone continued, “and everything we do affects one another. Discussing stuff is just being considerate of each other’s needs. Sometimes, Tarnish, Maud, Octavia, and Vinyl go off on trips and we’re the ones doing the foalsitting, so what they do affects us in a profound way.”

With a soft cough, Twinkleshine cleared her throat and held up her hoof to interrupt the conversation. “This isn’t the getting the gift opened. Sumac, just open the darn thing!”

“But… I like learning about family stuff.” Sumac’s ears fell but he lifted his head with a bit of effort. “In two days, you’ll be getting married and I’ll have a family. I want to know stuff.”

“And I want a son that can rip open Hearth’s Warming gifts!” Twinkleshine’s expression became one of intense pleading. “It’s like some kind of torture!”

“Lemon, you did this to us!” Trixie whirled around to face the yellow mare by her side and there was laughter from several of the ponies in the room. “You knew this would happen! Why would you do this to us, Lemon? Why are you such a sour mare?”

This got a few snickers, and Pinny failed to pay attention to just how much she was bobbing the length of ribbon in front of Megara. With a Tartarian yowl, the leggy chocolate brown manticore spawn bonelessly slipped free from the stony fortress that was Maud’s embrace and launched herself at her grandmare, Pinny, by kicking back with her hindpaws against Maud’s barrel.

Maud toppled over into Tarnish, Tarnish fell over onto Octavia, Octavia’s head conked into Vinyl’s—which made a hollow coconut bonk—and Vinyl’s glasses were knocked askew. A living coiled spring, Megara sprang into action and like a ribbon-seeking missile, she pounced upon the ever-so-tempting strand of holiday ribbon held by her grandmother. Megara scored a strike against Pinny Lane and bowled her over, right into Cloudy and Igneous, who were wedged in tight at the end of the sofa together.

Sumac watched in awe with all thoughts of his holiday gift forgotten…

“I thought I had a grip on her—”

“Just like Doctor Caballeron thought he had Tarnish tied up and totally subdued that one time?” Octavia rubbed her head with one hoof while giving Maud a fine Grittish squint.

Upon saying this, three mares all turned in unison to look up at Tarnish. Octavia, Vinyl, and Maud all stared at him now with such intensity that Sumac could not help but squirm. What had Tarnish done wrong and why was he the center of attention. Mares were mysterious creatures, fickle, but they often had their reasons—if only there was some way to understand them and figure them out.

“This is your fault,” all three mares said together as one.

“What’d I do?” Tarnish demanded, going on the defensive. “And who can prove it?”

“Megara just mooked us,” Octavia said, going first.

“Mook on mook violence,” Vinyl added, speaking in Octavia’s voice while she rubbed the lump on her head. “She just wrecked a roomful of ponies, and I only know of one other pony that does that on a regular basis.”

“She doesn’t get it from me,” Maud continued in the flattest deadpan imaginable.

Unconcerned about the conversation, Megara batted the length of ribbon about the floor.

“She’s slippery and she can slide around inside of her skin,” Tarnish said while trying to defend himself. “That doesn’t come from me—”

“This does not address the fact that your daughter—our daughter—just clobbered a whole sofa’s worth of ponies and did so with remarkable ease. It’s like she wasn’t even trying.” Octavia’s lower lip now protruded in a refined, posh pout and her tail flicked from side to side.

“I’m kinda proud of that—”

Octavia stomped her hoof and let out a powerful snort. “That’s an admission of guilt!”

“I don’t care! I’m still proud! Try to stop me!”

“Ugh!” Along with a petite grunt, Octavia rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Unable to hold back any longer, Sumac began chortling and was joined by Pebble…

Almost closing his eyes, Sumac leaned into Lemon Heart’s velvet embrace and allowed himself to be held without struggle. She smelled like tea, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and other spicy things. Above all else, Lemon was warm and he fondly recalled when they had first met. Even though that was a bad day, it was a good day in hindsight.

Some of the ponies had cleared out and now, Sumac didn’t feel quite so overwhelmed. He could hear their voices in the kitchen, their laughter, all of it happy sounds. Trixie was now sipping a cup of tea, while Twinkleshine was enjoying a frothy cup of eggnog laced with brandy. A single sip of which had left Sumac fuzzy-headed in a good way.

“I don’t know what it is,” Pebble said in a low, soft voice that did not disturb Sumac or make him jump. “But I have a few ideas of what it might be. Lemon Hearts came to me and asked a few questions.”

In silence, Sumac lifted up his gift, gave the ribbons a gentle tug, undid the bows, and freed the box from the outermost decorations. He could cheat right now and use his telekinesis to feel around inside of the box, but what fun would there be in that? Lemon Hearts used no tape to wrap the gift, just super tight creases, tight folds, and a couple of well-placed magic tacks that held everything together.

With great care, Sumac undid these and the wrapping paper slipped right off.

Within was a box and on the box… was an airship. This was a model airship that had to be assembled—a working model airship complete with a boiler, an electrical system, working airscrews, and a nacelle that could be filled with Celestium. To be specific, it was the HEMA Courageous, a ship that Sumac actually knew about, because Trixie had taken him to the monument just south of Manehattan, or perhaps it was just north of Fillydelphia.

As the story had it, the HEMA (Her Equestrian Majesty’s Airship) Courageous was stationed just off the coast when a fleet of griffon sky pirates had come to do some coastal raiding. Alone, outnumbered, the Courageous had moved to intercept the incoming fleet, with the intention of buying time for Equestria’s defenses to be marshalled.

In the following battle, fourteen enemy vessels were sunk and the Courageous was mortally wounded. Even though the ship was on fire and was having a hard time remaining in the sky, the Courageous still had a little left to give. The captain, an odd fellow by the name of Spiderhawk, gave the order that no captain ever wants to give.

RAMMING SPEED!

After that, he gave his crew the order to abandon ship, the captain’s first mate disobeyed and stayed behind to fight the fire so that the captain could steer what was left of the ship. Captain Spiderhawk slammed the Courageous into the pirate’s command ship and the explosion could be seen from both Manehattan and Fillydelphia. It was a story that Sumac adored and spent whole hours imagining in his head while trying to go to sleep in the wagon he once called home.

“It’s wonderful,” Sumac whispered to Lemon Hearts.

“You can load the cannons with a little black powder and they’ll go bang,” she replied. “When the holidays are done and everything has settled down, we’ll put it together. I want this to be something special that we do together, Sumac. Just you and I—”

“That’s not fair, I want to play with boats too!” Twinkleshine tossed her head back to get her pastel pink mane out of her eyes and she gave Lemon a pleading stare.

Lemon sighed out a worn, defeated response: “Fine.”

“I too, wish to play with boats.”

“Okay, fine, Trixie, but it isn’t fair to Sumac if you two constantly stay busy. If you two can’t take time out of your busy schedules Sumac and I will be boat-building without you.”

“That’s fair, Lemon,” Trixie replied.

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Twinkleshine offered up a nod of agreement.

Exerting a fair bit of effort, Sumac gave Lemon Hearts’ neck a nuzzle and by doing so, he gave himself a wicked case of the tinglies. He continued, enjoying the warm, fuzzy, tingly feeling, and felt Lemon’s foreleg tighten around him. In just two more days, she would be his mother in a meaningful, legal sort of way, but she was already his mother right now.

Author's Note

You have been spared from cliffhangers and not knowing what was in the box... for now.

Chapter 43

A blizzard was a fearful thing, a dreadful thing, and Sumac had experienced quite a few when living with Trixie in their wagon. However, for all the blizzards he had seen, none of them prepared him for what was outside the window right now. It was impossible to tell if it was night or day and the wind made a terrific siren’s wail. How could they possibly reach Canterlot now? The Winter Moon Festival was tonight and Sumac just couldn’t see a way to get there. He was almost absolutely certain that Hearth’s Warming was ruined and this sent him spiraling down into a moody funk.

If only they had taken an earlier train, before the blizzard drew breath and gained life.

Pressing his nose against the cold, frigid glass, Sumac attempted to peer out into the storm, but saw nothing. Behind him, Pinkie Pie was laughing with Pinny and Limestone. Music streamed from the phonograph, something jazzy with a bit of swing; Tarnish and Maud were dancing again, and why not? They were trapped in the house because of this blizzard and didn’t seem bothered by it at all. When left to their own devices, Maud and Tarnish danced. Sumac wondered if there was some kind of important life lesson to be learned from this, but he wasn’t in the mood to think about it right now; he’d rather sulk.

“Igneous, no!” Cloudy’s protest caused Sumac’s ears to perk. “Igneous, no! This is swing music! It’s pure perversion! Stop it, Igneous! Put me down! Right now! This instant!”

“It takes two to tango, saucy mare,” Igneous said in reply. “Now shake your dumplings.”

“You leave my dumplings out of this, cad.”

Leaning against the window sill, Sumac made the painful effort of turning his head. His neck popped a few times, but it wasn’t as bad as he feared it might be. Cloudy was reluctantly dancing with Igneous now and Megara bounced around their hooves, following them. For all of her protest and fuss, Cloudy seemed to be having fun, and Sumac wondered what the big deal was. How could music be bad? Perverted? It was something that needed adult explanation, he felt, but he wasn’t in the mood to ask. No, he wanted to sulk, because reasons.

“Mom’s gonna get her dumplings dumpled! Woohoo!” Pinkie Pie bounced to her hind hooves, lept about, and then pulled Limestone up for a dance. “I have no idea what I just said, but it sure sounded funny!”

“These trombones are deviant!” Cloudy made a sour face, shook her head from side to side, and tried to squirm away from her husband, Igneous.

“Why yes,” Igneous replied, “they put me in a mood. Remember when we were young, Cloudy?”

“Nopony can remember back that far, except for maybe Princess Celestia—”

“Maud! Hush!” Cloudy made a wave of dismissal at her daughter while her ears pinned back in annoyance.

“Send me to my room,” Maud deadpanned while she whirled about with Tarnish. “Go on.”

“See! This music causes otherwise good ponies to sass their parents!” Lips puckered into a tight scowl, Cloudy wore a sour expression of exasperation when Igneous dipped her over.

Before he was even aware of it, Sumac was laughing, which was a problem. He really wanted to sulk, and laughing was counterproductive to that. Trying not to laugh made the problem worse; overcome with the giggles, Sumac gave up on looking out the window and sulking about the blizzard.

“Dance with me?” Twinkleshine asked of Lemon Hearts, who was reading a book.

“Tonight, dear.” Lemon Hearts turned the page of her book, took a calm breath, and smiled. “Any word from your parents? Will they be meeting with us tonight?”

“Yeah, I heard back from them.” Crestfallen, all of Twinkleshine drooped, from her ears, to the corners of her mouth, as well as her neck. She looked like breakfast cereal, left far too long in the bowl, under siege by the soggies.

The mirth in the room seemed to expire; dancers ceased dancing, Pinkie Pie’s laughter quieted, and Cloudy’s expression shifted yet again. Sumac felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach and he knew from Twinkleshine’s reaction that something wasn’t right. Turning and twisting his body around, he almost tumbled from the cushioned bench in front of the window, but somehow saved himself at the last moment.

Limestone, who had become increasingly close to Twinkleshine during their time together asked, “Are your parents miffed about you being gay or something?”

“You just can’t ask that, Limestone!”

Ignoring her mother, Limestone persisted. “What’s the deal? You’re getting married.”

“They don’t like Lulamoons.” Twinkleshine’s voice was difficult to hear over the volume of the music. “I was told in no uncertain terms that if I do this, I’m disowned. No inheritance, nothing. I’m cut off. My mother said I’ve already hurt her social standing considerably and that what I’m doing has impacted both her and my father’s political career.”

“And yet again, little unassuming Lemon Hearts is reminded that she’s a nopony.” After slipping her bookmark into her book to mark her spot, she closed her book and put it down. She sighed, a forlorn huff, and shook her head. “My parents are wintering in Las Pegasus, otherwise, they’d be here. That’s the thing with my parents… they’re always somewhere. Since buying that hunk of junk airship, they just can’t seem to stay in one spot.”

“Don’t let this ruin your big night, dears.” Cloudy pulled herself away from Igneous, dropped down to all fours once more, and approached the sofa where Twinkleshine and Lemon Hearts were sitting. “This is how it is, sometimes. There are rivalries and sometimes, sometimes ponies get so caught up in rivalries that they do stupid things.”

At this, Twinkleshine nodded, but had nothing to say.

Just as Sumac was about to add his own two bits, already having a vulgar stream of profanities awaiting escape on his tongue, a bell rang out and Tarnish’s ears pricked. Sumac almost choked on his own words, because they needed to be said, but others were already talking.

Said Tarnish, “Trixie’s back. There might just be a Hearth’s Warming miracle after all!”

Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash were covered in snow, but Trixie wasn’t for some reason. The trio brought the cold in with them and Sumac shivered while Lemon Hearts and Trixie rubbed snoots together, happy to see one another. Rainbow Dash flapped her wings to rid them of ice and snow, while Twilight gave herself a full body shake.

“We have ways and means,” Twilight said to Tarnish with a proud, defiant glare in her eye. “Applejack had the sleigh we needed and Rainbow Dash recruited Ponyville’s best, most strongest, most capable fliers. We’ve got other passengers, too, and the sleigh is going to be a bit crowded. Sorry, Tarnish, but I can’t get all of you to Canterlot tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Tarnish replied.

“No!” Trixie pronked away from Lemon Hearts and almost fell over to reach Tarnish. “I need you there! You have to come! I can’t do this without you!”

Lowering his head, Tarnish brought himself down to eye-level with Trixie. “You can do this, Trix. It’s time to let other ponies save you. You’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“You’ll be fine. And when this is over, you’ll come back here, and we’ll all spend Hearth’s Warming together, and you’ll get to have your honeymoon, and even better, you won’t have to worry about getting a foalsitter for Sumac so you can enjoy said honeymoon. There is nothing for you to worry about and every possible thing that might be a problem has been prepared for.”

A single tear rolled down Trixie’s cheek and Lemon Hearts moved to be at her side.

Never one to tolerate a serious mood, Rainbow Dash turned to Twilight and said, “Twilight with your horn so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”

“Rainbow Dash”—Twilight turned a stern expression upon the mare beside her—“it’s daytime, you cloud-brain, and I think you just ruined a beautiful, meaningful moment. Ugh, some ponies.”

Unconcerned about Twilight’s scolding, Rainbow Dash’s face split into a broad grin and she said, “Bundle up, ponies! We’re going for a wild ride!”

The blizzard seemed quite upset that a Hearth’s Warming miracle was in the works and it howled with fury. Bundled up, wrapped in his poncho, and with Boomer tucked in with him for extra warmth, Sumac hoped that he would survive this trip. It seemed like the most insane thing ever, because it was impossible to even see anything.

“Goodbye, Sumac.” These words were followed up by a hug from Silver Lining.

“Come with us?” Sumac asked.

“Oh no!” Silver Lining froze in terror and snowflakes clung to her long eyelashes. “I’ll be staying with Fluttershy, where it’s quiet. You don’t worry, my Mama can fly through anything.”

Sumac was worried. He couldn’t even see Gloomy, though he could hear her voice. She and Wormwood where somewhere in the whiteout nearby, laughing and having fun. If he strained his ears, he could also hear Miss Hooves. More ponies were being packed into the sleigh and it was getting crowded. Pebble piled in beside him and smooshed him right into Silver Lining.

“Twilight, Twilight! This is all wrong!” Rainbow’s voice could be heard over the howling wind and Sumac wondered what the problem was. “We need Derpy out front, with Gloomy! They’re our strongest, most capable pullers!”

“But Miss Hooves can’t see,” Twilight cried in reply. “Regulations prohibit her being out front! She has to be in the back, nearest to the sleigh because of her eyesight! She’s allowed to haul, but not lead!”

“Twilight!” Rainbow Dash’s raspy voice strained to be heard. “Nopony can see! We’re all blind! Who do you trust, Twilight? The regulations, or the greatest flier in all of history?”

“Rainbow—”

“Twilight, you need to listen to me or we’re all going to die in this boneheaded attempt!”

Sumac heard gasps from all around him in the sleigh, and Pebble attempted to merge with him somehow. Pebble was scared, of course she was, because she and he had plummeted to their deaths, only to be saved by Rainbow Dash at the last second. Silver Lining wiggled away, lept over the edge of the sleigh, and was gone.

“If Derpy’s eyes hadn’t gone bad, she might have been just as great of a flier as me! Do you have any idea how many trophies she has? How many records she’s broken? Put her out front with Gloomy! If you don’t, I’m calling this off for safety reasons!”

“Fine!” Twilight’s exclamation was almost lost in the wind. “Rainbow Dash… you’d better be right about this. This feels risky—”

“Of course it’s risky, you egghead! But this is your idea! I’m trusting you! Otherwise, I’d never, ever, under any circumstances put my weather crew in danger like this! Gloomy flew through a hurricane, but I’m not totally sure what the others are capable of!” After a moment, she added, “We’re about to find out though, aren’t we?”

Sumac shivered, but it wasn’t because of the cold.

“Wait!” a growly voice hollered over the howling, shrieking wind. “One more! There has to be room for one more! Make way! Important aunt coming through! Make room or get Limestoned!”

A moment later, Limestone was being pulled into the sleigh and it was a tight fit. Sumac found himself crushed in the bodies around him while room was made for Limestone. Somehow, as if by some miracle, Limestone was wedged in with Pebble, and the little earth pony filly cried with relief while clinging to her aunt. Sumac realised that this was about to happen, this crazy, insane act, and it dawned on him that he didn’t want to go to Canterlot. This was nuts.

“We’re all going to die,” an earth pony mare said, giving voice to Sumac’s terror.

“Isn’t it exciting?” Limestone replied.

When the sleigh jerked with movement, Sumac almost tossed his holiday cookies right then and there.

Somehow, buoyed by some incomprehensible miracle, the sleigh flew. Twilight was in the lead, a lone alicorn against the elements, wearing a harness of jingle bells. With her magic, she cast a protective wedge in front of her, shielding herself and those behind her from the worst of the storm. Just behind her, Gloomy August and Derpy Hooves flew side by side, two powerful, capable fliers who bore the brunt of the work.

It was far from a smooth ride and Sumac was certain that at any moment, everybody would go flying out from the sleigh. Whipped about, buffeted from all sides, the demon wind did everything it could to make the trip as miserable as possible. The only pony that seemed to be enjoying herself was Limestone, and Sumac believed her to be a madpony. She was not a safe, responsible adult.

They were circling around the Canterhorn, slowly gaining altitude, and Sumac wished the ride was over. From elsewhere in the sleigh, the sound of retching could be heard and the colt hoped that the frozen vomit comet had been launched over the side. Pebble had screamed herself hoarse and Sumac could feel his mothers clinging to him.

And then, with a suddenness that was disorienting, the storm was gone. Clear skies were overhead and the sun could be seen. The ride smoothed out and Sumac was left blinking in astonishment. His magic sense tingled in the most alarming way, and this, along with his disorientation, left him wanting to blow chunks.

“Twilight!” A clarion voice could be heard over the rush of the wind. “You made it! You are cleared for approach!”

That was Princess Celestia’s voice!

Sumac struggled to see, but there was nothing but blankets, coats, and cloaks around him. He was too short to peer over the ponies packed around him and he longed to see Princess Celestia in majestic flight. He couldn’t even see Canterlot, or much of anything at all, really.

“Welcome to Canterlot,” another voice said, this one smooth and suave. “We apologise for the weather conditions, but a tough decision had to be made. Ponyville and the surrounding regions need the water, come the spring melt. But we cleared the skies up here for your arrival.”

The sleigh banked, turning, and there were a few startled screams.

“Gosling! Stop that! Stop taunting the blizzard! I swear, you and Luna are such a headache! Get back up here above storm level! Cease baiting the blizzard at once! Put down that snowball! Luna! I’ve had just about enough of both of your shenanigans!”

“Cannonball!” another voice cried, this one loud enough to be mistaken for thunder.

“Luna! NO! We have a job to do!”

Though frozen in terror, Sumac had himself a profound realisation and knew who the responsible one was in this relationship. Princess Celestia was Lemon Hearts, and from the sounds of it, the poor princess was at the end of her rope. Having seen this before, having watched this play out with Twinkleshine, Trixie, and Lemon Hearts, Sumac felt some small amount of pity, but not too much, because this was the price one paid for loving somepony else; sometimes, they did things you didn’t agree with.

“Thou art a stodgy earth pony among the company of frollicking pegasi, and a mealy-faced fishwife as well! Huzzah! Our charges will arrive in Canterlot, secure and sound. Who are We that We should not have fun whilst performing Our duties?”

“We begin our final approach,” Twilight called out ahead, and her voice could hardly be heard. “Please ignore the poor example the Royal Family is providing and remember to obey and respect all proper flying safety regulations! Our landing might be a bit bumpy, but we should be fine! Hang on, everypony, here we go!”

Author's Note

And now, things will move in parallel with Swans. Soon, we will see these events through the eyes of Celestia.

Chapter 44

Canterlot. Canterlot Castle! Sumac ignored the gasps, cries, whinnies, and the retching he heard so he could focus more upon the fantastic sights all around him. Beneath the snows of winter, Canterlot was a beautiful place, so much so that it took his breath away and left him in a state of wide-eyed wonder. The unicorn guards, white ponies in gold armor, had thin red stripes on their horns to make them look like candy canes. Ginormous holiday decorations abounded. In the distance, the hedge maze appeared to be made out of gingerbread, a feast laid out for giants.

How could anything be more perfect?

For perhaps the first time, Sumac understood the appeal of the Royal Family, swept up in the moment as he was. They had a perfect life—a perfect, happy, wonderful, storybook life—and lived in a beautiful jewel of a city. Celestia was tall, calm, reserved, and her smile was welcoming. Gosling was strutting about, grinning, making others feel at ease. Princess Luna stood with a curious smile and a merry twinkle could be seen in her eyes.

“It’s all so beautiful…”

“Pebble?” Though he had trouble standing, Sumac somehow managed to turn and look at his friend, who stood beside him.

“This is a different place in winter,” the awestruck filly said in a frozen deadpan while her eyes went from place to place. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Before Sumac could respond in any sort of meaningful way, Gosling strode forward and addressed the crowd in a smooth, soul-jarring baritone that caused quite a few mares and even a few stallions to have weak, wobbly knees.

“Ladies… gentleponies… but especially you fine looking ladies that give life to a party… welcome to Canterlot Castle. It is my exquisite pleasure to have you here today as my guests. Thank you for joining me, because I intend to make this a big deal. We’re making history tonight, all of us, and for all of you that came, for all of you that braved the storm, you have my most sincere and heartfelt thanks. Especially you ladies.” His silken, electric words were punctuated with a flirty, exaggerated wink.

A mare fainted dead away into the snow and a guard rushed over to assist her.

“For all you fellas… do me a solid and see that your special somepony has a magical night to remember. Let’s make this the most magical night of the year. Can you help me?” Gosling clucked his tongue and then feathergunned the crowd, an action that made Princess Celestia cringe, but also caused another mare to topple over into the snow.

“Gosling, put those away before the hospital becomes overcrowded,” Princess Celestia said to the pegasus prince. Then, with a warm smile that drove away winter’s chill, she beamed at the crowd. “This is, indeed, a most important night, a celebration long overdue. Thank you, all of you, for coming to celebrate my sister’s sacred night. It means a great deal to me, and you have my gratitude.”

“The importance of the night was never forgotten, even if Princess Luna was.” A young earth pony mare shuffled in the snow, her mane windswept and her nose a little snotty from the bitter cold. “Why, as far back as I can remember as a filly, this was our night as earth ponies and it was more important to us than Hearth’s Warming.”

Princess Luna had gone still, save for the wavy haze of her mane and tail.

Before an awkward silence could take hold, Princess Celestia rescued the situation. “Come inside, all of you, so that you can get warmed up. Have some hot cocoa. Please, sample our hospitality. You are our guests and we are so pleased to have you join with us on this most special of nights.”

Having been abducted by Princess Cadance, Sumac found himself taken down a hallway, along with Pebble and Limestone—Limestone, who had been given foalsitter duties. Twinkleshine, Lemon Hearts, and Trixie needed time to get ready for this evening. Now, Sumac was being taken to someplace safe and out of the way.

A door opened and a humming Prince Shining Armor joined them. Pebble fell into step beside him, walking double time to keep up with him, and Sumac could not help but notice how uncomfortable Limestone was. The poor farm pony was out of her element and seemed quite bewildered. Normally a chatterbox, Limestone was oddly subdued and quiet.

“Look, Shiny, I have a sorcerer for us,” Princess Cadance said to her husband.

“Mmm-hmm.” Prince Shining Armor nodded while murmuring his reply.

“He has cute little socks.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Try as he might, Sumac still couldn’t see them.

“Are we going to be locked away in a room for our own good?” Pebble asked while she looked up at Prince Shining Armor with narrowed eyes.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Too many strangers currently about.” Princess Cadance lifted her head high and let out a worried huff. “Too much chaos. It’s too fine an opportunity. Right now, Princess Celestia’s Immortal Solars are arranging a non-intrusive security detail so that you and your parents can enjoy tonight, free of worry. But for now, while it is still day, you must be watched over. It would probably be best if you took a nap while you have the chance so you’ll have some pep in your step for tonight.”

There were worse prisons to be locked away in. Perhaps he and Pebble would be locked away in a tower. Boomer stirred beneath his poncho and he heard a faint yawn, which was followed by a smokey smell. The tiny fire-belcher awoke just in time to guard he and Pebble in the tower that they would be sharing for the next decade or so, at least until somepony came to rescue them. Perhaps Twinkleshine would charge the castle, but it would be awful if she had to fight the dragon. Blinking, Sumac decided that this flight of fancy wasn’t going anywhere and thought about something else.

There was a flash of orange and yellow when Boomer poked her head out. One eye looked in one direction, and the other eye checked out something else in the other direction, leaving Boomer with an unhinged, demented look about her. Her tongue flicked out, licked one yellow eyeball, then the other, and was slurped up with a smokey hiss.

“Hi,” Boomer said, announcing her presence. Swivelling her eyes about, she brought them both to bear on the back of Princess Cadance’s head.

Looking down, Sumac tried to determine if Boomer had grown. Her body seemed to be the same as it was, maybe five six inches long at the most, but her tail was still hidden. For whatever reason, Boomer’s tail seemed to be growing out of control and was now at least three times her body length—maybe four. Boomer—not a pony—had a tremendous impact upon Sumac’s life and his current situation about being locked away in a tower for a decade or so was forgotten about while he considered his dragon.

“I miss having Spike around,” Prince Shining Armor said, his first actual sentence. He came to a sudden stop, turned, grinned, and gestured at a door. “We’re here.”

“Fluffalump!”

Sumac cringed at the embarrassing outburst and felt a searing pain in his neck that lasted for only a second before becoming a dull, burning ache. Prince Shining Armor surged forwards, his hooves clopping against the stone tile floor, and lifted a filly off of the ground so that he could lavish his affections upon her. Fluffalump burbled, spitting everywhere, and then let out a gleeful squeal when her father blew a raspberry against her stomach.

It was almost too much for an introvert to bear and Sumac cringed again.

“That is just disgusting,” Pebble deadpanned. She blushed as she turned away, her face turning a darker shade of brown. “What is it about fatherhood that makes a grown pony act this way? My father still does this to me. Shameful.”

Princess Cadance began to snicker and so did a stark white pegasus mare, who covered her mouth with her wing. Limestone too, joined in, but her laughter was hesitant, almost halting. After a moment, Limestone seemed to relax a little and her laughter didn’t seem quite so stifled. Sumac was put down upon a black and dark purple velvet sofa; much to his surprise, Princess Cadance kissed him before drawing away.

“This is Sleet, our esteemed nanny, and Flurry Heart.” Gesturing with her wing, Princess Cadance smiled. “Sleet, this is Limestone, Sumac, Boomer, and Pebble.” Turning, she looked Sumac right in the eye and her face became quite stern. “I just know that you’ll be well behaved and won’t give Sleet any problems.”

“Dragon!” Flurry cried, and she broke free from her father’s magic with a crackle.

She hit the floor running, her stubby legs pounding a staccato rhythm against the tiles, and Boomer, sensing grave danger, made a break for it. The tiny dragon burst free from Sumac’s poncho, ran up the back of the sofa, lept, soared over the head of Flurry Heart, and then cannonballed right into the fireplace, where she took cover among the glowing embers.

“Oy vey.” Sleet sighed out this exclamation while rolling her eyes.

“Dragon?” Flurry rushed over to the fireplace and stopped just short of the roaring flames. Looking sad, dejected, she sat down with a huff and stared at the object of her desire, which was, for now, out of her reach.

“Flurry wants her own Spike,” Prince Shining Armor said while he watched his daughter. “She’s too little understand that Spike isn’t a pet. She wants her own dragon. Please, try to be patient with her. She’ll sort all of this out eventually.”

“Is it safe?” Sleet asked, looking apprehensive.

“Is what safe?” Prince Shining Armor replied.

“That… lizard.”

“Sleet… how shameful. You like Spike.” Princess Cadance clucked her tongue a few times while looking disappointed.

“I know Spike.” Sleet seemed miffed and she gestured at the dragon hiding in the fireplace. “And that is not a Spike. She’s different. I don’t know her. She’s strange.”

“Boomer is a pygmy tree dragon and she is every bit as smart and sociable as Spike, I assure you.” Princess Cadance scooped up Flurry, levitated her over to the sofa, and plopped her down beside Sumac. “She’s a baby, Sleet. Boomer’s probably in more danger from Flurry. Make certain that Flurry behaves. You know how she can be when she wants something. She has to understand that Boomer is not a toy. Today will be a learning experience.”

Sleet, still apprehensive, nodded but said nothing.

“Boomer isn’t a pet.” Sumac’s eyes darted around the room, going from adult to adult, pony to pony. “It’s hard to say what she is to me, but she’s not a pet.”

“Twily called Spike a pet for a while, but outgrew it.” Prince Shining Armor’s eyes now seemed distant, as if he was reminiscent. “She was little, I don’t think she knew better, and she was probably too young to fully understand everything. But as she grew a little older, things changed. She was Spike’s caretaker and as far as I know, they never quite sorted out their relationship. I’ve always seen it as an odd mix of mother and sister, but I’m certain that Twily feels different. Getting her to talk about it is the trick, though. She’s private and defensive about it.”

“Dragon?” Flurry rubbed her front hooves together and cast a pleading stare upon her father. “Dragon, please?”

“Sumac and Boomer have a bond,” Pebble said in a matter-of-fact deadpan. “Honestly, I think it is better if we don’t try to explain it. The fact of the matter is, Boomer is a dragon and Sumac is a pony. Both are very different creatures. Whatever bond that forms isn’t something that either dragons or ponies would have, under normal circumstances. This is not a natural occurrence, and as such, is special.”

“Oy vey, so smart.” Sleet’s eyebrow rose while the corners of her mouth pulled downward into a frown of concentration.

“The world is getting smaller,” Prince Shining Armor said while staring into the fire. “In some parts of the world, wild dragon habitats are shrinking. Some come and live in cities. I think it’s great that we can live together. There’s problems though. Dragons and ponies are very different creatures. I would like to think that, when Spike grows older, he’ll be able to address these issues and offer solutions. Even though I worry about his acceptance by other dragons due to how he was raised, I am hopeful that solutions beneficial to both species can be reached.”

“Am I helping to do that?” Sumac asked.

“Yes,” Sleet replied before Prince Shining Armor had a chance to do so. “And you’re such a good colt for doing so. This sounds like an important duty. I bet your mother is proud.”

“I have three of them.” Turning his head a little, Sumac looked Sleet in the eye.

“It’s very hard on a colt to have three mothers, oy vey.” The snowy white pegasus rolled her eyes. “Was terrible on Gosling to just have one mother. A colt could just die with three. You poor dear… you’ll be under so much pressure. Three times the disappointment when something goes awry. How awful.”

This gave Sumac pause; disappointing one mother was bad enough, but three?

“Speaking of which, I have to go and speak with those three mothers. My services are needed. There are some things to sort out before the wedding.” Saying nothing else, Princess Cadance vanished with a crackle of aetherfire and was gone.

“Security won’t secure itself.” Prince Shining Armor sighed out the words, and then he too, vanished, leaving behind the stench of ozone.

“Who wants to hear a story?” Sleet said to the foals in her care. “Gather round, little ones, and I’ll tell you a story. Afterwards, maybe a nice nap, yes?”

“I like stories. Will it have history?” Sumac’s ears rose, expectant.

“Oh yes, it will be about real ponies, and a dragon,” Sleet replied.

At long last, Limestone relaxed and sat down, though she was quite careful with the furniture. Pebble crawled up beside Limestone, curled up against her aunt, and waited for Sleet to begin her story. Flurry Heart settled down while giving her nanny an adoring, worshipful stare. Boomer, cautious, crept out of the fire and waited upon the hearth to see if it was safe to emerge.

“This is a story about the First Tribes, and a silver dragon named Chromium…”

Author's Note

So close to the end now.

Chapter 45

Sumac awoke to the familiar tickle of a dragon sitting on his ribs and the scent of smoke threatening to make him sneeze. Vision blurred, he glanced around and suffered a moment of panic while he tried to remember where he set his glasses. It was one of his persistent fears, a little dose of anxiety that always troubled him upon waking in a strange place, a trouble that a pony with good eyes wouldn’t know. As sensation returned to his body, he recalled that he had dreamed of dragons—good dragons, virtuous and noble.

Dragons quite unlike the one sitting on him that was licking her eyeballs.

What time was it? There seemed no way of knowing. What if it was morning and he had slept through the night? Panic, like Boomer’s tiny claws, made his skin prickle. Pebble was still asleep, a chocolate lump beside him. Still half-awake, he took a moment to think about his friend, his boon companion. Ponies that were that dark of a shade of brown were rare, but even among them, Pebble was distinct—unique. Why, she was so rich and dark that she almost seemed… edible. She wasn’t milk chocolate with its cloying sweetness, no; she was dark chocolate, the kind that held more than a hint of bitterness. But in that bitterness was a lesson and a promise of something good, something worthwhile. The bitterness came with subtlety, nuance, something so very grown up and satisfying.

Waking up to wax philosophical was the best way to wake up.

What strange and unknowable beast was Pebble Pie; she was an endearing enigma, a perplexing paradox, a contradictory companion. In trying to understand her, Sumac was forced to be a better pony, because Pebble was just so… weird. It wasn’t because she was a filly, no, even though that had a lot to do with it. Maud too, was weird, which was reassuring and distressing in equal measure. Tarnished Teapot existed and he too, liked weird ponies, which was reassuring for Sumac. However, this was distressing too, because Sumac felt that his own treasured uniqueness was lessened by the existence of Mister Teapot. It was hard to be special and stand out when there was another pony that shared your interests.

For Sumac, it was a worthwhile problem to have.

He was a pony stuck in his own introverted headspace, little Sumac; as such, the thoughts, wills, and motivations of other ponies posed a great mystery to him. Why did they do what they did? What went on inside of their heads? But Pebble… she stood out. So many things she did just didn’t make sense and as such, there was an element, an air of intrigue that persisted around her. For Sumac, who had to know the how and why of things, Pebble was maddening. But as Lemon Hearts had to said him, it was good to try and think about the way of others.

He yawned, and when he did so, Boomer began tapping out a tune upon his teeth with her tiny claws. She was in a mood, Boomer, and Sumac tried to focus upon her without his glasses only to have yet another profound understanding. Wearing glasses made one blind. Somehow, he had managed without glasses, with a lot of squinting and straining. But now, try as he might, squint as he might, trying to get his eyes to focus was almost impossible. His glasses had left him dependent upon them to see. Such was the way of things, he supposed.

Boomer too, posed an interesting mystery to Sumac: she was an intelligence that existed in a body entirely unlike his own and her thinking—however similar—was utterly alien. She was a thinking, feeling creature with wants, needs, and motivations… just like he was. But she wasn’t like him at all. She didn’t look like him and Sumac had a faint glimmer of understanding of what was a greater problem. Things that were different were to be mistrusted and kept away. That was simply the way of things, from what Sumac had gathered in his travels.

Dragons, zebras, donkeys, burros, griffons—all different—but also thinking creatures.

How troubling it was to reject thoughts because they came from a mind housed in a different body. Thoughts were thoughts and as such should be accepted on their own merit, not judged by the body from which those thoughts had originated. Taking advantage of this quiet, peaceful moment that was so conducive to introverted thinking, Sumac decided that he would spend more time focusing upon the idea and less time on the body that voiced them. It would be a conscious effort, no doubt, but a worthwhile goal.

Soon. Why was it always soon and never now? Soon, Princess Celestia would lower the sun in a grand ceremony and it was said that she would surrender to the night. Was this symbolic? Sumac had questions and he thought about asking them, but everypony around him was just too frazzled. Why surrender? Why couldn’t Princess Celestia and Princess Luna share the night together? The sun was technically a star, albeit a tiny one that was magically created, a miniature nuclear furnace, a miasma of incandescent plasma held together through Princess Celestia’s will, so it was said.

Speaking of Princess Celestia…

The grand alabaster behemoth entered the room, almost prancing in fine form, her eyes merry, twinkling with joy. Sumac, sitting on a comfortable couch, had to tilt his head back a bit to look up at her while she looked down at him. Why was she looking down at him? There was something about her, something that could only be described as mischievous. For the first time, Sumac noticed that the entire room had gone silent. Flurry was no longer babbling at Sleet and Limestone.

“You and I need to have a private chat,” Princess Celestia said.

“We do?”

She nodded. “We do.”

“What about?” Sumac asked while the first pangs of alarm took him over.

“Private stuff.”

“What kind of private stuff?” Sumac felt the first knot in his stomach and his frogs had a sweaty tingle about them.

“Sorcerer stuff… and that is all I will say in front of the others.”

“Oh.” Sumac gulped. Being a sorcerer was hard. Through no fault of his own, his life now had extraordinary difficulty. “Sorcerer stuff. I thought I made it clear, I’m not joining the guard. I want to be a wacky wizard that can’t remember anything, a crackpot inventor that constantly gets exploded into hairy bits, and maybe a mortician. But I plan to keep my options open. No guard duties though.”

Sleet began snickering and the left corner of Princess Celestia’s mouth tugged upwards into a fine smirk. The big white mare shook, the whole of her body jiggled in some weird way, and it took Sumac several long seconds to realise that she was fighting to hold back her laughter. Perhaps it was unprincessly to laugh during formal functions or talking about sorcerer stuff. Which meant that he now had to try harder to make her laugh.

“Come away with me, Sumac, so that we might talk.”

Whatever mirth Princess Celestia had was now gone and she had an entirely different demeanour, one that Sumac wasn’t comfortable with. She was pacing, perhaps collecting her thoughts, and he was sitting in a paisley printed chair that had the sneezy smell of perfume. A mailbag sat on the floor nearby, from which letters had spilled out of. The desk, an austere, plain looking thing, was covered in clutter. On the desk were pictures, several of them. Twilight Sparkle could be seen; she was a tiny filly sitting in a bathtub and appeared to be covered in ink.

Accidents happened.

“Some discussion has taken place,” Princess Celestia said.

Sumac could hear the strain in her voice and his ears pricked.

“Recently, there was some fallout about keeping secrets,” the big mare continued while she came to an abrupt halt. “With all of that in mind, it makes what I must ask of you quite difficult, Sumac. I have decided to trust you with a very important secret. As I said, there was some discussion and the use of magic to compel you to keep a secret was brought up as an option. I rejected this outright… and I was accused of making an emotional decision rather than a rational one. Sumac…”

The colt found himself basking in Princess Celestia’s summery stare.

“I want to believe that you can be trusted, Sumac. When I approached you some time ago, when you and Trixie still lived in her wagon, your integrity impressed me. I tried to get you to come away with me and you refused me. You showed yourself as being rather clever… for a five-year-old.”

“I thought we were going to talk about sorcerer stuff.”

“We are.”

Though confused, bewildered even, Sumac went along with it. “Oh.”

“Are you the trustworthy pony that I believe you to be, Sumac Apple?”

To this, he did not respond right away. She had used his last name… Apple. The use of his surname had dire implications. Was this about honesty? Maybe. Probably. In some way. He studied her face, trying to read it, but it might as well have been an alabaster mask at the moment. Stone held more emotion than the princess did and even her eyes shared nothing.

“I try to be trustworthy,” he said, hesitating even as he spoke, “but there is the matter that I am five. If this is something important, then you should ask yourself, Princess Celestia, ‘can I trust a five-year-old?’ I don’t want to get in trouble for accidentally messing up.”

“You have so much in common with Twilight…” Princess Celestia’s words were wistful and her eyes grew distant. “You can always spot the well-read ponies. Big vocabularies. Eloquent words. You and Trixie might have been paupers, but there were always books for fun and entertainment, right?”

Taken off-guard, Sumac made a faint, weak nod.

“In my own experience, you can discern the ponies that read a lot of books versus those who watch a lot of movies. It’s the vocabularies, you see. Movies use a limited vocabulary to appeal to those who do not read or might have violent allergies to literacy.”

The unexpected joke caused a broad grin to bust out on Sumac’s face.

Princess Celestia too, grinned, a warm, sincere sight.

“When Trixie was just a little tyke about your age, she showed signs of having possible allergies to literacy… but that was her home life. Certain pressures made it difficult, if not impossible to study. Once she was in school and away from home, she blossomed a bit. But I digress.”

“This is a pretty classic grift,” Sumac said to the big mare and he delighted in how her eyes went wide. “You’re trying to establish familiarity with me for the sake of a confidence trick. This is a con job. It’s pretty good, but you can do better, I think. You’re taking a soft approach because you have feelings. Never let feelings get in the way of a grift.”

“Sumac Apple… there are moments when I forget your origins… and then I get a reminder… like a slap in the face. The grift is strong with you. If little Lemon Hearts wasn’t around, I’d be worried.” She paused, shook her head, and then stared off at the desk. “I take that back… I’m still worried, but I am also cautiously optimistic that I can trust you, you adorable little grifter.”

With a slow turn of her head, Princess Celestia’s gaze was reasserted upon Sumac and her eyes blazed like her sun. She was every bit as terrifying as she was beautiful, and the colt could feel his stomach doing flip-flops while he was scrutinised beneath her burning stare. The two ponies stared at one another, sizing one another up, trying to read one another. Sumac, not knowing what else to do, fell back upon being charming, as it was his best possible natural defense.

“You said I have the grift…”

“You do,” Sumac.”

“I am a sorcerer.”

“You are, Sumac.”

“But I only have a cutie mark for one of them.”

“This is true, Sumac.”

“How’s that work?”

The big mare sighed, the tired sigh of a patient schoolmarm. “Sumac… did you… did you just turn this grift around on me?”

Sumac conjured up as much innocence as he could muster, widened his eyes, and allowed his ears to fold back in the most submissive way possible. “If you have to ask…”

“You crafty little rapscallion.” Princess Celestia’s lips stiffened, her eyes narrowed, and her ears pricked forwards, almost aggressively so. “In response to your question, ponies have major and minor talents that manifest. Some are inherited, while others come with the cutie mark. For unicorns, this becomes even more complicated, because unicorns deal with spheres of magic and elemental alignments. You, Sumac Apple, have a special talent for sorcery. This is the talent that defines your existence. It is what makes you special and unique. As a unicorn, you are electrically aligned—which affects your personality and temperament in ways we don’t fully understand just yet. Your specialised sphere of magic just so happens to be grift. A great misfortune, really. Does this help you make sense of things?”

Sumac decided that it did. It gave him a lot to think about and he offered up a polite nod. “It does, thank you. Since you didn’t talk down to me like I was a stupid foal, I’ll keep your secret. Whatever it is. I can be trusted. I hope.”

Lowering her head, bowing her proud neck, Princess Celestia tried to get eye-level with Sumac. She came forward, slow, reassuring, in the least threatening manner possible for a creature so big. A wicker escaped, a pleasant rumble, and her gaze grew ever-gentle. Sumac found himself adoring her—it was impossible not to do so—and he was just clever enough to wonder if he had a choice.

“My witty little sorcerer,” Princess Celestia began, her tone one of maternal kindness. “That magic sense of yours concerns me and quite a few others. When the sun comes down and the moon rises, you might notice some peculiarities about the magic and its source, little Sumac. Twinkleshine was smart enough to raise this concern. She’s not the smartest little pony, Twinkleshine, not by a longshot, but her cunning is second to none. You would be wise to learn from her, little Sumac.”

Something about the air around Sumac changed and he gulped when his mouth went dry. Something big was about to be said, something important. Princess Celestia didn’t strike him as the type to go through all of this trouble just to keep a piddling little secret, which meant that something major was about to be revealed, perhaps something spectacular.

“Little Sumac, you might notice that most of the magic that moves both the sun and moon comes from me. Luna’s magic is weak right now, for reasons that I shall not go into—but suffice it to say that there are other priorities that she must pour her magic into. This is something that you mustn’t speak about or discuss. This is a well-kept and closely guarded secret. We can’t let it be known that Luna suffers from weakness.”

“Wait…” Sumac drew in a deep breath, straightened his spectacles, and raised his left forehoof. “If this is a secret, how did Twinkleshine know to warn you about it? I mean, how did she know about this problem in the first place so that she might warn you?”

The big white mare clucked her tongue several times and her narrowed eyes focused upon the unicorn colt. “I am forced to wonder, little Sumac… is it your raw intelligence that causes you to be so perceptive or is it the grift? It troubles me that I cannot be sure. I’ve tried to discern it, but your grift magic doesn’t like being investigated. It actively works to defend itself from outside intrusion.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” he said, being as flippant as he dared.

“My adorable little rogue… Twinkleshine is a member of Twilight’s innermost circle. She is entrusted with secrets—”

“And my protection.”

“Yes, and your protection. Make no mistake though, you’re not just some assignment for Twinkleshine. She loves you a great deal. That she is assigned to protect you and is tasked to recover you in the unlikely happening of another… event… is just happy circumstance. Let not your mind be troubled, my little scoundrel. Twinkleshine keeps many secrets.”

“Huh.” Sumac lowered his forehoof and allowed it to come to rest upon the cushion he sat on.

“This particular secret was being discussed for security reasons and Twinkleshine just found out. Magical defenses are being crafted even as we speak to try and prevent others from discovering this classified bit of knowledge. We might be able to fool most unicorns who will sense this event, but with you being a sorcerer, odds are you’ll be able to feel everything going on. Twilight is certain that she will be able to shield this knowledge from most outsiders, using Trixie’s illusion, of course.”

“I could sense the changelings in Ponyville…” Sumac’s eyes began to water and he blinked to staunch the flow of tears. “But I didn’t know it at the time. I mean, I knew something was there. For weeks I felt it. My magic sense kept getting overloaded and it made me sick and gave me headaches.”

Princess Celestia squared her withers while her jaw firmed and she studied Sumac with a hard, but also concerned expression. “I find it amazing that you could sense the non-detection magic itself… even Wardens have trouble sniffing that out. The very fact that you can sense it is mind-blowing, because non-detection magic is aptly named. Sort of similar to your grift magic resisting attempts to learn more about it. I must confess, Sumac Apple, there are times when I wish I could somehow change your mind and get you to enlist. Forget about your sorcerer powers… just your magic sense alone is a rare treasure. Every sorcerer has this gift, but yours, from what past accounts I’m familiar with, is extraordinary.”

“It doesn’t seem so special,” he replied, shaking his head while the first tear fell. “It’s more annoying than anything. Sometimes it’s hard to be around unicorns. I can’t control what it does to me.”

“Sumac… if you keep this secret for me… I will find time in my busy schedule to give you lessons on attuning and controlling your magic sense. Together, I am positive that we might be able to get you some relief.”

“Really?” Sniffling, Sumac looked up at Princess Celestia while an ember of hope flared to life within his breast.

“I promise… if you promise.”

What else could he do? To be normal again! What he wouldn’t give to have some means of control over this. And all he had to do was keep a secret? “We have a deal. My lips are sealed.”

“And it seems… I have a student…”

Author's Note

Some of this will be seen in Swans, too.

Chapter 46

Much to Sumac’s growing dismay, he discovered that he didn’t much care for castles. Big, confusing, a bit drafty, and everything it seemed had hard, uninviting edges. Though beautiful, the structure felt aggressive to Sumac, though he could not clarify his thoughts that led him to this conclusion. For some reason, he missed the comforting confines of Trixie’s wagon, though living in a tower might be nice.

Castles had islands of warmth and cosiness, but also vast stretches of biting, unpleasant cold where no heat reached. Hot rooms and freezing hallways. There was also the echo, because some spaces were so obnoxiously large that even words spoken in soft conversation caused unwanted echoes through the cavernous expanses. Even worse, there were ponies who called this place home, and Sumac held a growing sense of pity for their very existence.

Leaning into the brush, he closed his eyes and trusted in Twinkleshine to hold him up. Each stroke left behind tingles that danced like live electric current just beneath the surface of his skin. The tug and friction upon each follicle created a static charge that interacted in odd but pleasurable ways with his own electric attunement. Celestia had said something about his electric nature, but what had already fled his memory.

The brush started at the base of his jaw, traveled down his neck, and came to an end upon the soft curve of his withers. Twinkleshine was thorough in her work, brushing the same place over and over again until a fine sheen manifested upon his pelt. The overall effect of the sensation caused Sumac to feel a little drowsy, even though he wasn’t sleepy.

“I’ve put a temporary enchantment upon your poncho, Sumac,” Twinkleshine said while her steady, even brushstrokes threatened to be his undoing. “It should keep you warm even though it’s below zero outside. Pebble’s coat too… so don’t you worry.”

“What about the earth ponies?” Sumac asked, his eyes closed.

“What about them?” Twinkleshine replied, her brush now moving to a new spot in need of brushing.

“How will they stay warm tonight? They don’t have magic and enchantments and spells to make clothing warm.”

“Well…”—Twinkleshine’s eyes darted in the direction of Limestone, an act that Sumac was oblivious to, and when she resumed speaking, there was a hesitant rasp to her words—“this is traditionally why Canterlot is a unicorn city. But earth ponies are clever, industrious, and resourceful. They’ll find some way to keep warm. There’s fires and they can huddle together. There’s a lesson that I want to teach right now, but I can’t seem to find the words. I suppose this sounds bad if I can’t reach the conclusion that was floating around in the back of my mind.”

“I understand it,” Limestone said with the hint of a chuckle in her voice. “The Pie Family Rock Farm is my Canterlot. Unicorns that come there run into some real problems, unless they find a way to adapt. Sometimes ponies live in impractical places for other tribes and it falls on them to adapt and adjust if they want to visit.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Twinkleshine paused in her efforts for a second, pulled Sumac a little closer, and then caused the colt’s ear to twitch by breathing on it. “I can’t get over how bad this might sound. I was trying to make a point but it came out sounding tribalist. I opened my mouth before I had my words in order.”

“I didn’t take it that way.” Limestone’s husky chuckles filled the room. “Sometimes I run my mouth off before I have what I want to say sorted out. I have a lot of half-baked ideas. Anyhow… sometimes, as a pony, you have to make sacrifices to do what you want to do. This is super-important tonight, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m here with Pebble and I’m probably going to freeze my cutie mark right off, but that’s okay. In a way, the freezing cold and the weather makes it even more special… I mean, we earth ponies are willing to endure this just for our own tribal culture, because this is a big deal to us.”

Sumac now had a faint glimmer of understanding, and he became thoughtful while the delightful brush strokes continued. He felt a poke, a soft one, and from the small hoof he knew it was Pebble. She was an earth pony, he was a unicorn, and in their togetherness, Sumac believed that anything was truly possible—with the exception of flight. Flying was probably out of the question. Pebble’s shortcomings were opportunities for his greatness, and his own failings gave Pebble a chance to prove her worth.

For Sumac, this was a profound moment of clarity and his underdeveloped mind had some trouble encompassing the whole of it. Mind racing, he even saw a potential drawback for alicorns; being of three tribes in a single body brought total self-reliance, and as such, alicorns had no need for others, no dependence upon the greater herd of the equine species. Perhaps this was why alicorns were so aloft in their aloofness, above the common pony tribes. What need did alicorns have for others? As beings of perfection, they had no need for unicorns and their magic; pegasus ponies and their flight offered no inspiration or ease of travel; and as for the strength, endurance, and clever wit of the earth ponies, it was unnecessary.

What need would one have of others when one was a herd unto themselves?

“I think it’s sad that you can’t seem to brush yourself.”

Pebble’s dull, flat deadpan made Sumac’s eyes flutter open and it took a moment before the filly came into focus. She was wearing a dark green dress made of heavy fabric that was trimmed in midnight blue. Her brown face was almost unreadable, but her brilliant blue eyes held the faint hint of mischief. With the light shining the way it was, the insides of Pebble’s ears were almost pink, if something so brown could indeed, be called pink. Looking at her caused his heart to flutter and crackling static electricity danced around the base of his horn, which left his mane a bit frizzy.

“Bathing, brushing, these things you can’t do for yourself,” Pebble continued, her tone as cold and flat as iron, “this is why you smell. Having lived with you for a time now, and having shared a bed with you, I have reached the conclusion that colts are gross. I have proof.”

Limestone began to snicker, which caused Sumac’s cheeks to suffer a searing flush.

“Even Megara tries to be clean and she’s a wild creature. I’m confident that I can get her to stop licking herself. But she’s a wild creature and she likes to stay clean. So what’s your excuse, Sumac?”

Before Sumac could respond, the door banged open and a triumphant Trixie burst into the room, holding a decorative gold-gilt scroll case above her head. “I have returned with papers we all must sign if we are to be wed tonight! This castle really does have everything, it’s amazing! They have a licensing clerk for weddings in the administration wing. Get your frogs ready!”

Ears pricking, Sumac blinked a few times, befuddled, until he asked, “Frogs?”

Limestone too, was just as confused. “Frogs?”

“Noble blood must be accounted for,” Trixie replied, her demeanour undergoing a rapid change from triumphant to helpful. “Twinkleshine and I are nobles, which means sending paperwork to the blood registry. Just a little pinprick for Twinkle, Lemon, and I. Blood is the ultimate proof and quite difficult to forge. Also, certain magics of convenience are attuned to blood, so this paperwork can be called up in a hurry if it’s needed.”

“You unicorns have made the act of getting married complicated,” Limestone said, her statement blunt and to the point.

Twinkleshine shrugged and her brush ceased its motion. “Changelings, imposters, clever unicorn wizards with body transmutation spells, issues in the past have made this a necessity. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Sitting on a balcony glazed with ice, Sumac watched as the sun considered its grand retreat. It wasn’t evening, not yet, not for a while, but the sun was getting low. It seemed smaller somehow, more distant than usual, and this was the shortest day of the year. If he focused, he could feel the magic that moved the sun, a constant steady tug that was very much like a clock that needed winding. Soon, Celestia would give the parting sun the nudge it needed to send it beyond the horizon.

It was beyond cold—the frozen air stung like nettles—but he was warm enough in his poncho. Pebble was pressed tight against him and Boomer’s head poked out from the neckhole of his enchanted garb. Trixie, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts all stood together, all of them watching as the sun dipped ever-lower. Limestone, wrapped in a heavy coat, had her hooves on the rail and she was peering down at the courtyard full to brimming with ponies down below.

Each of them was somewhat startled when the door opened behind them and a dark blue alicorn emerged onto the balcony. She strode with purpose, her neck straight and her head cocked with regal bearing. The teasing wind ruffled her feathers and snowflakes whipped about on the breeze intermingled with the stars found in her mane and tail.

Limestone almost fell over the rail in her mad scramble to be respectful.

Sumac tried to say something in greeting, but his voice seemed to be off in hiding for some inexplicable reason. Princess Luna was looking right at Trixie with a deep, penetrative stare, almost as if she was reading her distant descendant’s soul. Pebble clung to him, trembling, quaking, and her shivering had nothing to do with the cold. Though the skies overhead were relatively clear, billowing snowflakes landed upon the lenses of Sumac’s spectacles and lingered, obscuring his vision.

Princess Luna uttered one word: “Lulamoon.”

In response, Trixie gulped, and with this sound, Princess Luna’s icy, imperious gaze softened into something almost maternal. Sumac could feel Boomer wiggling against him and her tiny claws prickled while she moved away from Pebble, who was still shaking. A smile that rivaled the sun’s warmth appeared upon Lemon Hearts’ face, while Twinkleshine’s lips pressed into a tight thin line.

“We art pleased with this union,” Princess Luna said, her ears unmoving and statuesque in the playful breeze. “If truth were to be told, this eases Our frantic, worried heart. The most prominent bloodlines that We hast spawned hast borne a terrible curse, the cost of Our folly and madness. House Lulamoon has seen its ruination and it seems to stand in name only. With but mere unfortunate circumstance, it would meet its end and cease to be. Yet, even though this union might seem counterintuitive to continuation of the bloodline, it pleases Us and brings Us joy.”

Trixie’s response was a soft whisper, difficult to hear over the sound of the crowd below. “I don’t understand.”

A blink. Another. Princess Luna’s eyelashes collected swirling snowflakes and held them, like foals nestled in secure cradles. “This is a union of your choosing. There is no coercion, no manipulation, no overbearing political pressure—none of these things. Thou art to be bound for reasons of joy, for reasons belonging solely to the heart. Thou hast emerged from the madness, grief, and sorrow like refined iron from a crucible… free of dross and made stronger. Before mine eyes I see a tempered mare worthy of my bloodline… and recovering from mine curse.”

Hot breath whistled in and out from Sumac’s nose.

There was a moment of hesitation before she continued, “And We art made hopeful by this recovery. Twilight too, struggled, but she had the advantage of support… of a great many friends. She had family that nurtured her and she was mine sister’s student. Whilst Twilight most certainly had her trials, and We would never take away from those, Twilight has had favouritism and good fortune alleviate the worst of the curse. Thou hast not. Thou hast suffered, endured loneliness, deprivation, public ridicule, shame, and so much else. Yet… thou hast endured, where many might be broken, shattered even, you stand before Us having reclaimed your noble bearing. For this… We art proud.”

A single tear froze in the corner of Trixie’s eye and sparkled in the light of the fading sun.

“We givest thou Our blessing.”

“Thank you,” Trixie gasped. Her mouth continued to move, but no other words seemed forthcoming.

Reaching out one wing, Princess Luna—with great gentleness—closed Trixie’s mouth. “This bond is special, three mares uniting for a common cause, gathering beneath a shared banner for a duty most noble.” Her wing, still extended, gestured at Sumac. “He is dear to you, not as a sorcerer, but as your son.” She moved her wing to touch Lemon Hearts, who blushed at the contact. “This is not pretentious social-climbing or jockeying for peerage, but a sincere declaration of an affection that goes beyond the bonds of mere friendship.”

Here, Princess Luna paused, drew herself up to her full height, and her luminous eyes bore down upon Twinkleshine. “In the past, thine house birthed many warriors, knights, wizards, and soldiers. The blood of your ancestors has soaked the soil for the great Equestrian cause. But with peace came change and this hot blood, once treasured, has cooled.”

Twinkleshine bowed her head, but Princess Luna lifted it with her wing.

“Serve Us and rekindle the fire that sets the blood to boil. Defend what is precious to mine heart. Swear fealty to Us and We shall make thee our standard-bearer. Our mare-at-arms to guard what We hold most dear. Give Us your name and We shall give you Our writ and measure in return, so thou mightest smite Our enemies. Embrace the old ways and keep the noble past alive, Twinkleshine.”

Holding his breath, Sumac awaited for Twinkleshine’s response…

Author's Note

So close to the end now. It feels weird. So much has gone into this and the associated story.

Chapter 47

“Dancing is the highest form of expression between two ponies,” Pebble said in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “I should know, because I come from a family of dancers that goes back for whole generations. Dancing can only take place when there is harmony between two ponies.”

Sumac could not refute Pebble’s claim. He, Boomer, and Pebble were sitting on Limestone’s broad back, which was hard with muscle. Pebble was behind him, holding him tightly, and the rules had been made quite clear; they were to remain on Limestone’s back for the duration of the evening, for obvious reasons that could not be argued with.

“So, you think there is harmony between the sisters again?” Limestone asked, her ears pivoting around backwards to hear her niece’s voice better.

“If mother and father are dancing, it means that they’ve made up over whatever it was they were squabbling about,” Pebble replied, offering this up as irrefutable proof of her assertion. “Octavia and Vinyl too. Octavia is persnickety and if she is annoyed with Vinyl, you can see it in the way she dances. She’s out of time, clumsy, and there is no flow.”

“Huh.” The exclamation came out of Limestone with a whoosh, with her ribs expanding and contracting. Her head tilted off to one side, her ears pivoted to focus on different sounds, including the droning buzz of the bagpipes, and after a few seconds spent in thought, she nodded, as if agreeing with Pebble.

It was hard, if not downright impossible, to argue with Pebble’s blunt-force logic.

Watching Limestone’s ears made Sumac aware of his own ears and just how much they moved. Having omnidirectional hearing, his ears had to turn towards the direction of whatever it was he was listening to, and Pebble was behind him. This served as a marvellous distraction and it consumed the whole of his mind, this sudden twinge of self-consciousness about how much his ears moved. You could actually see if a pony was listening to you by paying attention to the ears, although a professional slacker might train their ears to remain focused even if their mind wasn’t.

“I think I’m out of harmony with other ponies,” Limestone said while Sumac explored the furthest reaches of space. “There’s no dance partner for me. It’s funny… maybe there’s something to what Mom said. The only pony I’ve danced well with was Tarnish… but I also dance pretty good with my sisters, so maybe it’s just a family closeness thing?”

“Or maybe you’re just not trying very hard, Auntie Limestone.”

“Ouch, Pebble… watch that honesty, will ya?”

“That sunset…” Pebble breathed out the words.

“I know…” Turning her head, Limestone too, gazed at the fading fire in the western sky. “I’m pretty certain that the sisters are working together to make this amazing sky. Look at it all. Moments like this one, I wish that I had a special somepony to share it with, but I’m not ready to settle down. I have a business to look after.”

Sumac came back down to earth right about the same time as Limestone said ‘business’ and he blinked a few times while he tried to gather his senses. The sensation of magic was overwhelming, only it didn’t come from the aether around him, no. It came from the ground below, down deep, down below the mountain, nestled in its roots. He became distinctly aware of the fact that it was Terra, the planet, pulling on the sun and the moon. Ripples of influence tugged on the orbiting bodies and he was back in space again, his mind galavanting off on a grand tangential journey through the cosmos of the mind.

“It’ll be awhile before the moon rises,” Limestone said while she watched the fading streaks of pink, gold, and glowing ribbons of vibrant violet. “Let’s go get a bite to eat.”

There was magic in the air. Real magic, actual magic, and not just the feeling of excitement or anticipation that ponies talked about when there was magic in the air. It felt raw, unpredictable, and Sumac was having trouble controlling himself, as was just about every other unicorn present. For Sumac, this was his first winter solstice when he had functional awareness of his magic, and the complex magery at play to shorten the day and extend the night all around the world had made a mess of things.

At least, for the unicorns.

Pebble and Limestone were acting funny; how, Sumac could not say. Neither of them seemed to be themselves and Sumac supposed that the weird magic was affecting them in a different way. Though he couldn’t say for certain, the earth ponies seemed brighter, more vibrant, more colourful somehow. Certainly more attractive in some odd, undefinable sort of way. Pebble had a certain allure to her, some captivating quality that made Sumac want to be near her. But it wasn’t just Pebble—the same could be said for Limestone, much to Sumac’s embarrassment, and there was something about the way Limestone smelled. Something earthy, like the ground in spring just after it rained, and it made him think of green growing things.

It was a confusing time, that much was for certain.

There was a lot of kissing going on, and nopony was doing much to hide it. Big gross sloppy kisses, the kind that left Sumac feeling embarrassed, with his insides squirming like slick, slippery serpents, and he didn’t want to see ponies slipping one another the tongue. Ew. Behind him, Pebble was clingy, there was no better way to describe it, and she kept squeezing him around his middle while rubbing her cheek against the back of his neck.

Trixie, Lemon Hearts, and Twinkleshine sat on the floor, all huddled together on the other side of the table, talking to one another in low voices that Sumac couldn’t quite make out. Lemon Hearts had a sticky face, her lips were stained with dark red wine, and she swayed with her every movement. Twinkleshine seemed downright rambunctious and clung to one of Trixie’s forelegs.

How much wine were these ponies drinking? It was hard to tell. The air reeked with the cloying, spicy sweetness. It was so strong that it might have been one of the things that left Sumac feeling light-headed, though it was hard to be sure. Outside, the sky had turned the same colour that Sumac saw when he squeezed his eyes shut in a well-lit room. The band was playing something brassy, bold, and bouncy.

“It’s time.” Gosling’s voice reverberated through the hall and every single ear in the room pricked to attention. “Please, be orderly and have courtesy for others when filing out of the exits. Tonight, the only crime is to spoil another’s good time. Please, come and join me for the moonrise.”

“That voice really butters my bread,” Lemon Hearts remarked, and this got her a good-natured shove from Twinkleshine.

“Something about Prince Gosling really juices our Lemon—”

“Trixie”—Lemon gasped, then tittered—“that’s lewd.”

“He has quite a chest scruffle,” Twinkleshine confessed, hesitant. “I mean, it looks like a nice place to rest your head when snuggling. Like deep pile shag carpeting, or something. I dunno what I’m saying.”

Lemon Hearts leaned in closer to Trixie and Twinkleshine to say, “His fetlocks are a little shaggy and when he struts the hair moves in such a way that you can’t help but look. He’s made of eye candy.”

Examining one rather plain beige hoof, Sumac wondered if he would be handsome and felt a vague sense of worry. He could only be described as pale. Discord had called him beige. Where other ponies were colourful, eye-catching, and had chest scruffles that mares wanted to touch, Sumac felt that he was rather… blah. In a barn full of hay bales, why, he could practically disappear from view because nothing about him stood out. His unease grew to the point of actual physical discomfort and a terrible, awful, dreadful thought sprang into existence: perhaps he should be brushed a little more often and while he was at it, get his mane combed too.

Handsome was hard work, but maybe it was hard work worth doing.

The sky had never been so clear as it was right now and above Sumac was an ocean of darkness illuminated by millions of tiny, sparkling lights. Of course, he knew the secret of the stars and this knowledge was something that he treasured. His tiny nostrils stung from the cold, but for the most part, he was warm enough, though he worried about Limestone.

Princess Luna stood in waiting on the dais and Sumac could not help but feel that she was looking right at him. The light of the many braziers reflected in her eyes, giving her a spooky, otherworldly appearance. As for Princess Celestia, she stood elsewhere, and Princess Luna was alone on the dais because this was the Night Princess’ time to shine.

When he was plucked from Limestone’s back, Sumac almost let out a startled yelp of alarm. Trixie held him aloft, just as she had done so many times before, and he found himself looking into her happy-sad eyes. What was she thinking? Feeling? She was smiling, but it wasn’t a smile that he was familiar with and there was some unknown quality about it that filled him with some vague sense of worry, something that touched upon his introversion in some weird, fundamental way.

“The stars, Sumac… the stars are my legacy,” Trixie began, her voice husky and her tone rather melancholic. “I am one of Princess Luna’s stars, and it has been said that the stars will aid in her escape. Prophecy is so full of vagaries. But I digress.” She sighed, it was a breathy sound, a weary sound, and her breath was strong with the cloying reek of wine. “Princess Luna is still recovering from her trying ordeal, and I suppose I am too. You’ve been a big part of that, Sumac. These stars that are my legacy, I would share them with you if I could.”

A hard lump formed in Sumac’s throat and he was forced to swallow.

“I don’t know what they were thinking, putting you in my care, but I’m glad that somepony gave me a chance. Look how far we’ve come, Sumac. Look what we have now. In your own special way, you’ve helped us achieve this. The point I’m trying to make is, we’ve done this together. So this is our night. Our special night. Because of you, I found myself. Because of you, Lemon Hearts was finally able to ease the empty ache that has plagued her for such a long, long time. She wanted a family more than anything else in the whole wide world.”

Sumac found himself sniffling and he made a valiant struggle to not do so.

“Because of you, Twinkleshine has found her purpose and can now live out a foalhood fantasy of hers as a protector of a noble house. It is no longer a dream, a silly flight of fancy that a little silly filly clings to. We all have dreams, Sumac… I know I did.” With her foreleg, she made a gesture at the stars above. “Dream big, Sumac. Know that you are loved. I will find some way to share these stars with you.”

With that came a kiss and with the kiss came electric tingles that made Sumac wiggle. When Trixie pulled away, he reached for her, and, slipping his forelegs around her head, pulled her close once more, his body surrounded, suspended in a somewhat ticklish field of magic. Fond thoughts flooded his mind, time spent together in study, Trixie teaching him how to read, magic lessons, and the stories… so many stories… Trixie knew so many stories about every interesting thing to be found on the road.

Trixie’s extensive knowledge of history and the past defined Sumac’s future.

He clung to her and the thrum of her horn emitting magic was a soft, comforting drone in his ears. Boomer squirmed between them, having awoken from her slumber, and there was a muffled, smooshed yawn from beneath Sumac’s poncho. With Boomer’s stirrings, Sumac thought about family, and the sheer enormity of this moment struck him with terrific force, leaving him emotional.

Princess Luna rose into the air, her wings and body frozen in a graceful pose. Magic became a palpable force and Sumac clung to his mother, overwhelmed, unable to bear everything that was going on. Silver flames crackled along Luna’s body and gasps came from the crowd. Sumac squeezed his eyes shut, because it was all too much.

Sumac felt the moon rising. The sensation, on top of everything else, almost crushed him. Powerful magics, though distant, could be felt, perceived upon the very edges of his peripheral awareness. He had been warned about the source of the magic from Princess Celestia, but she was wrong. The full ramifications of what was taking place collided with Sumac’s mind. How could Princess Celestia not know? How could she not sense what was taking place?

A faint stream of magic rose from Trixie, like a faint scent lost in a strong breeze, but Sumac could sense it. Not just from Trixie though; it came from Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor too, as well as other sources somewhere nearby in the city that Sumac had no knowledge of. It was a kind of controlling magic. How did he know this? He had no idea. But this was not the source of the flood, no, this magic only directed the waters in some incomprehensible way that Sumac could sense, but not fathom.

Every earth pony around Sumac practically buzzed with magic, with Pebble being one of the loudest. It came off of them in waves, pulses, and Sumac gritted his teeth to bear it. The magic came up from the earth, moved through the bodies of the earth ponies, found purpose, found meaning, and left them to flow through the roots of the earth once more so that the moon might be influenced.

Dizzy with knowledge, Sumac remembered bits and pieces of the story about how unicorns once raised and lowered the sun and moon, but became exhausted. The ancient unicorn magic went away. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, it was said, could raise and lower the sun and the moon without effort; but this was not the case. The means of the magic was merely shifted, transfered over to those capable of bearing the heaviest of loads. Had this been accomplished without the sisters understanding what had been done?

Sumac had witnessed a living engine and had no idea what to do with the knowledge.

When he opened his eyes, pale silver light streamed from the distant horizon and the moon now peeped over the edge of the observable world. More of the odd magic seemed to coalesce inside of Sumac’s mind and his awareness of it grew. Some presence, perhaps even magic itself, suggested that this was harmony—multiple parts working together as a whole. Princess Celestia’s and Princess Luna’s earth pony magic was working in unison with other earth ponies to keep the celestial bodies in motion. It was something so unbelievably complex that Sumac doubted that he could ever put it into words.

Awed into silence, Sumac watched the moon rise.

Author's Note

I almost posted this in Swans.... :derpytongue2:

Chapter 48

Sitting upon Limestone’s back, Sumac Apple almost felt alone in the crowd, adrift in a hairy sea of equinity. Murmurs—like waves—rippled through the assembled herd, with the volume gaining and fading as they traveled from mouth to mouth. Behind him, Pebble clung tight to him, her excited, hot breath tickled the back of his neck, which did something marvellous to the whole of his body that he could scarce comprehend. Even Boomer was excited, enough so that she stayed awake, though she clearly struggled.

“We’re going to have to take this show on the road,” Gosling said to the crowd, his smooth voice pouring through the public address system like liquid joy. “I bet Manehattan would be a kickin’ place to raise the moon… or maybe even Ponyville—”

The cheer that rose up from the crowd like a leviathan from the deep was enough to drown out Gosling’s words and make Sumac’s ears ring. Introvert though he was, and as unsettled as he was in a crowd, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else right now. Gosling had a most wonderful voice, a fatherly voice that was appealing, desireable. At least, it was for Sumac. What the colt was unaware of was that those who listened all heard something different. Some heard the appealing voice of a fatherly figure, while others still heard the ideal voice of a husband or a mate, for such was the nature of Gosling’s subtle talent to make others happy.

When the crowd settled down a bit, Gosling continued: “So tell me, you fine, fine ponies… how would you like for me to marry you?”

Again, the crowd erupted into hooting and cheering, and Sumac was almost deafened by it. Grinning, Gosling leaned close to the microphone, his ears splayed out in a submissive pose, and not far from him, Princess Luna—eyes closed, body shaking—was coming undone with whooping, barking laughter. The prince had certainly stepped in it and Sumac, young as he was, understood the social blunder that had just happened.

“Words are hard, okay?” Gosling said, his smooth, sweet voice pouring out of the public announcement system like maple syrup. “Did I ever mess that up. Bed’s gonna be crowded later. Standing room only—”

“LEWD!” a mare standing near the dais shouted.

“I know, right?” Gosling inhaled and the sound caused a chaotic ripple to flow through the crowd as something that Sumac could not understand seemed to take over the adults.

Princess Luna was laughing so hard that she was crying, and she wiped her eyes with her foreleg. Meanwhile, her sister, Princess Celestia, she had a strange look upon her face that Sumac couldn’t read, but the big white mare was laughing—though not as hard as her sister. Even Limestone was laughing, and Sumac was jostled against Pebble because of Limestone’s boisterous outbursts.

“Well, now that I’ve made a colossal fool out of myself, we should talk about marriage. See, I’m here tonight as a student, and a part of my royal duties are the marriage of others. So this got sprung on me at the last moment. I’ve had no time to practice, nor rehearse, and I have no idea what I’m doing, as is clearly evidenced by my previous socially-inept solecism. At least, I think that counts as a solecism, because I’m pretty sure that it was my grammar that got me engaged to all of you fine ponies.”

Laughter—much of it of the drunken variety—poured like a flood from the crowd.

“There’s a lot of lovers here tonight. Don’t hide it, I can see the moon in your eyes. For that, I apologise, and I promise that I’ll make Luna behave herself.” He paused while the crowd roared and stomped, and Gosling seemed to be basking in their riotous affection. “Luna needs to learn to keep that to herself.”

The ponies in the crowd were treated to witnessing the rare sight of Princess Celestia ditching her composure. Throwing back her head, she howled with laughter, the sound of which was enough to scare the gathered crowd into utter silence. But the silence did not last long, and after a few nervous, hesitant starts, the little ponies of the crowd joined the largest pony for a good laugh. As for Luna, she was gulping, gasping for air while prancing about in place, her eyes wide.

“I understand that marriages should be a serious, solemn occasion, so I am probably blowing this.” There was a long, dramatic pause, and when Gosling continued, it was with a fevered, mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Just like how some of you are going to blow your first night of marital bliss. Probably going to be a lot of blowing in the days to follow. Am I right? Watch the teeth, ladies… and lords, I suppose.”

Though he had no idea of what was being said, Sumac could tell that the adults were having a grand time. This wasn’t the boring snorefest that he thought it would be. In fact, all things considered, Sumac found that he was having a mighty fine time, what, with Pebble’s forelegs wrapped around him and her hot breath against his neck.

“All jokes aside, marriage is a serious subject.” Gosling’s muzzle lingered near the microphone, his nostrils flaring wide as train tunnels. “If things go wrong, get help. That’s what Princess Cadance is for.” He gestured at the pink alicorn that stood in a cordoned off area. “Vows are pretty darn important and I think that you should keep them, even if it hurts sometimes. Yeah, I understand the complication in this, and I know things like abuse happens, and come morning, the papers are going to twist my words into pretzels… but you need to fight to keep those vows. Vows are what makes our great society strong. Everything begins and ends with the vows we keep. Vows to love one another, to have and to hold… especially that holding part. Vows to serve and protect. The vows that every guard takes. Just imagine what our society would be if we all disregarded our vows.”

A lull settled over the crowd, and every eye was focused on Gosling.

“Princess Cadance took a vow to help you keep your vows, just remember that.” Gosling lifted his head away from the microphone and his broad smile returned. “Now, back to that ‘me marrying all of you at once’ part. Shall we get started?”

Three mares stood, pressed together at the withers, their heads bowed in solemn reverence. Something about seeing the three of them in this pose did something to Sumac, though he could not say what. Trixie stood in the middle, with Lemon Hearts on her right, and Twinkleshine on her left. Together, they stood, sides pressed together, cheek to cheek, a beast with three heads and twelve legs. What a sight they made together.

It was a relationship that he barely understood, though he knew it was important. Adults in general did a lot of things that were mystifying to Sumac, as most of what they did made no sense. Adults did a lot of perplexing things that weren’t very sensible, which was why, the little colt supposed, they had foals; adults needed somepony to look after them, to remind them of the important things in life.

“I want each of you to think about what you mean to one another,” Gosling said, his smooth, silken voice slipping into every ear. “While you're thinking about that, I want you to think of your vows. Because I wasn’t prepared for this, I have no idea what to tell you what to say. I’m really at a loss here, if I can be honest with you. No father. My mother never married. Perhaps that’s why I take my own vows so seriously. Fills that little ache in my heart.”

On the dais, Princess Celestia moved alongside Gosling, slipped a wing over him, and pulled him close to her side. Even from where Sumac was sitting on Limestone’s back, he could see the solemnity upon the white alicorn’s face. Princess Luna too, came over, and she also leaned against Gosling’s side, standing neck and neck with him. Something about the sight of the three ponies together filled Sumac with a kind of sad joy, or maybe it was a serious happiness, he couldn’t tell. With a turn of his head, he looked at his mothers, their heads still bowed, and he could see their lips were moving, though he could not hear what was being said over the overpowering murmuring of the crowd around him.

Again, without realising the how and the why of it, Sumac, like so many others, was influenced by Gosling’s subtle magic. For Gosling’s magic of bringing joy to others, to give them happiness, greatly affected his position as a ruler, because he could make his subjects happy. In fact, Gosling’s influence over the crowd was such that, in the years to follow, everypony present this night would remember this as one of the happiest nights of their lives.

Sumac included.

Behind him, Pebble stirred and he could feel her forelegs rubbing against his ribs. “Sumac,” she said, clinging to tight to him, “make me a promise.”

“What, Pebble?” he whispered in response, trying to show reverence and respect for the moment.

“Promise me that you’ll always be my friend.”

“Pebble, that’s—”

“Just do it, okay? I need the reassurance. I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m plain, I’m fat, and I’m ugly. I can’t even figure out why you stick around. There are times when I’m terrible to you—to everypony really—and I’m not much of a friend but I’m trying to do better and I need to know that you’ll be there.”

Right now was just too serious to make a promise that he wouldn’t keep and Sumac could feel the weight of the moment bearing down upon his fragile neck. Many had told him that Pebble was deeply insecure and that most of her awful behaviour stemmed from the fact that her insecurities ate her alive from within. Even Twilight had sat down and had a long talk with him over cookies and tea about this very subject. Sometimes in life, a pony made a very special friend, and that friendship was more of a task, Twilight had said. It involved effort, resolve, and patience.

“Nopony else tolerates me like you do and I need to know that it’s not going away.”

“Pebble,” Limestone said, her voice uncommonly low, “you shouldn’t pressure poor Sumac like that. It’s not fair to him.”

“And me getting my father’s insecurities isn’t fair to me, but I’m stuck living with it,” Pebble replied, her voice flat and lacking any sort of emotion.

Glancing around, Sumac tried to think, not just of what to do, but just to think, period. He looked at his mothers, he looked at Limestone’s ears, which had pivoted around to face in his direction. The ponies around him were deep in ceremony, doing whatever it was that adults did when they were getting married. Then, Sumac made the terrible mistake of looking at the two alicorns and the pegasus up on the dais.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were looking right at him. There could be no mistaking it, it wasn’t his runaway imagination. Those eyes were focused right on him, and he was certain that their burning stare had left his soul exposed. What dreadful sin had he committed to draw their ire? They weren’t looking away, nope. He squirmed a bit, but that didn’t help. Princess Celestia’s head was even angled downwards a bit, she wasn’t looking over the crowd, no, she was looking right at him and it was awful.

Feeling mighty uncomfortable, Sumac attempted to reason with himself, telling himself that the princesses were looking at his would-be parents. Princess Luna was proud of Trixie. Mouth dry, he made a valiant effort to convince himself that this was true, and his right foreleg clutched at Pebble’s forelegs still wrapped tight around him.

“I’ll always be your friend, Pebble,” he said, almost croaking out the words. “I can Pinkie Pie Swear if you need me to.”

“And I promise that I’ll never stop trying to be a better friend, the one you deserve,” Pebble replied whilst burying her face into Sumac’s mane. “I just need to know that the effort is worth it.”

“You’re a really weird filly, Pebble and—”

“I know,” she said, her deadpan gone, replaced with a voice made light and airy with relief. “Thank you, Sumac. You made a promise to me when I really needed to hear it. One day, I’m going to make it up to you.”

“How’s that, Pebble?”

“You’ll find out,” she replied, and this got a heaving snort from her aunt, Limestone.

Casting a furtive glance at the sisters, Sumac saw that their shared piercing gaze was now pointed elsewhere, and he tried to calm himself, telling himself that it was just a coinkydink. He was pretty certain that it was a coinkydink, at least. Still, there was something to be said about his vow of friendship, because he felt pretty good about it, and Pebble promised something in return, and wondered what it would be.

“Okay,” Gosling said in a voice that broadcasted warmth, “Now that all of you have had a chance to think about what you’re getting yourselves into, I want you to say your vows. I’ll give you a few minutes, so that you wordy types can spill out the contents of your heart, and then I’ll seal the deal. Once we’re done here, there will be dancing, both inside and out.”

At last, the long wait was over, and his parents were finally being bound together in some meaningful way that Sumac didn’t fully understand, but had waited for. He was going to have a family, and that meant something. Everything changed in some great, fundamental way with this one magical moment. Clutching at Boomer while leaning back against Pebble, Sumac closed his eyes and clung steadfastly to the moment, knowing that everything was only going to get better.

For Sumac, he had begun life as a hostage, though he remembered very little of that. Then he had lived as a vagabond on the road, but Trixie’s wagon had been a vast improvement, a stroke of good fortune. Not just for him, but for Trixie as well. Now, they had settled down in one spot, Trixie reaped the rewards of responsibility, and he was about to have something he had long wanted without knowing just how badly he needed it: home and family.

In silence, Sumac resolved to keep his eyes shut until Gosling sealed the deal.

Author's Note

Soon, we conclude to the epilogue. It's been quite a journey.

Chapter 49

It was strange how words, deeds, and events could change how one felt. Sumac had an awareness of it now, of some great thing that he did not understand. An event had happened, the marriage. Words had been said, exchanged. And with the deed done, he felt different now, reassured perhaps, he wasn’t sure what had changed, but life seemed brighter, better somehow. Perhaps ceremonies held some strange magic that Sumac could not sense, but could detect from effects left in the aftermath.

They were bound now in some clearly defined way, all of them. No longer did they just call themselves a family, but they were a family. The thought of it was too big, too much for Sumac’s mind to contain, to think about, it all left him feeling jittery. Not that he could think, of course, because there was just too much going on. There was music, dancing, food, wonderful smells, laughter, voices raised in conversation and song, there was just too much of everything.

At the conclusion of the ceremony, Prince Gosling himself had called them a family, which left Sumac wondering if everypony who had gathered to be married was now connected in some way. They had all shared a common experience, a moment together. Unaware of his own vacant stare, Sumac was all alone with his runaway thoughts and was almost oblivious to the celebration around him.

A flash of yellow in his vision startled him; when he focused upon it, he saw a lemony foreleg and heard the voice of Lemon Hearts speaking to him. “Sumac? Sumac, are you with us? Trixie, I think somepony is overstimulated.”

“Kiddo?”

Blinking a few times, Sumac’s thoughts collapsed into a pile of confusion and he tried to remember what it was that he had been thinking of. His neck popped when he turned to look at Trixie. First his caretaker, then his master, she had become his parent, but was now something else, though he was uncertain what that was. With the inclusion of Lemon Hearts and Twinkleshine, the definition of their relationship had changed again.

“Wow, Sumac is brain-fried,” Trixie said, her voice both knowing and worried. “Kiddo, how much sugar have you had?”

“Not enough,” he replied, gathering up some of his wits. He heard a chuckle from Twinkleshine, but it was a nervous one. “I got to thinking and I… well, I… there’s just so much going on and so many ponies…” Unsure of how to finish what he was trying to say, his words trailed off and he gave his lips a nervous lick.

Beside him, Pebble was destroying yet another plate piled high with cubes of cheese and fudge. When he looked at her, he felt comforted somehow, but his mind was far too jumbled to make out how or why. But at this moment, Pebble was being herself, and focusing on what was important, namely, food. But something—somepony—was missing. Where was Limestone?

Dancing, apparently.

“Kiddo, would you like a drink?”

Trixie’s question got his attention, but it was difficult to focus and harder to make a reply. He swallowed a few times—the jittery feeling persisted something fierce—and after nodding at his mother, he mustered up a response. “I want some seltzer water—”

With an incredulous stare, Trixie made a surprise interruption: “Seltzer water?”

“That’s rather grown up and refined,” Lemon Hearts mentioned in passing while examining Sumac’s face in a worried way.

“Seltzer water,” the colt continued while trying not to lick his dry lips. “Seltzer water with pineapple, coconut, and lime. Yeah!”

“What do we do, Lemon?”

“Give him what he wants?” Lemon Hearts blinked a few times and there was something about her mascaraed eyelashes that was attention snatching. “I’ll go get it. Be right back.”

Before he was aware of it happening, Sumac found himself lifted, a mindful, careful act, and he was levitated closer to Twinkleshine, not Trixie as he expected. He was eased into Twinkleshine’s embrace and when her forelegs wrapped around him, he settled against her, content to be held. Her embrace wasn’t like Trixie or Lemon Hearts, no. Where Trixie was a bit boney and Lemon Hearts was soft fluff, Twinkleshine was a stone gift-wrapped in fine, soft velvet. She wasn’t musclebound, far from it in fact, but what was there was dense and corded, like hard, firm ropes that slid in smooth transitions beneath her pelt.

“I didn’t know what I wanted in life,” Twinkleshine said, her head bowed, her lips close to Sumacs ear. “Not knowing, things got pretty rough for a time. But now…” She heaved a wistful sigh and redoubled her grip upon Sumac so that she might support his body better. “Now, I have two best friends and we’re committed to one another… we’re committed to changing the world, because we’re crazy enough to believe we can. And then there’s you. I had no idea that I wanted a son—truly, I didn’t. But now I have one… I have you… and I get to teach you stuff. Probably the sort of stuff that a father might teach their son. I’m not sure what that makes me in our relationship, but I am bound and determined to figure it out.”

In a rare display of precious foalishness, Sumac made a great effort to wrap his forelegs around Twinkleshine’s neck. Of course, they were a bit too short, but it was the thought that counted. His glasses pressed against his muzzle when his face came to rest against her fuzzy throat. She was wearing perfume—he could not recall ever smelling it on her before—or maybe some of Lemon’s had rubbed off.

“Three best friends,” Twinkleshine said, her foreleg rubbing Sumac’s spine in smooth, even strokes. “They decided to throw in their lot together and raise a son. Each of them were quite different and all of them had a history with one another. In school, two of them were best friends, while the third was a rival… but that’s all in the past. It’s not forgotten though, and in some ways, it’s made the relationship stronger. One struggles to do good, and it’s a rough go for her because hardly anypony believes in her, but she never stops trying. One is far too soft, too tender-hearted. The third might be a bit too hard and has trouble showing her soft side because she’s been hurt. Over and over again, she’s been hurt because of mistakes she’s made and because she wasn’t honest with herself. These three best friends… the one thing that they’ve bonded the most over is their shared love of a little colt.”

The warm fuzzies almost proved to be too much for Sumac to handle.

“Here comes Lemon.” Trixie’s voice came from Sumac’s blind-spot and he could not see what she was doing. “Trixie is feeling brave and is going to ask Lemon for the dance that Trixie never got in school. Trixie also feels like throwing up, because there are far too many butterflies—no, butter-anvils bouncing around in my tummy.”

“Butter-anvils?” With his ear and cheek resting against her throat, Sumac felt Twinkleshine inhale, he could feel the wind moving through her, and then her body shook with soft laughter that came out in bleating, halting bursts. “Butter-anvils! Wait till I tell Lemon that the sight of her gives you butter-anvils in your tummy!”

This felt a lot like a happy ending, a happily-ever-after ripped right from the story books. Something that Sumac—previously up to this point—believed happened only in books. Or maybe this wasn’t an ending at all, but a beginning. Those ponies in those books, they always had castles, or warm, cosy homes, and they always went to bed with full bellies. Now that Sumac thought about it, that constant, gnawing hunger hadn’t been felt in a while. Sure, there were times when he was hungry, but there was food now. Maybe too much food. Enough food that he could eat when he was bored, something he was now prone to doing but always felt just a little bit guilty about.

Trixie was dancing with Lemon Hearts, a shy, awkward, clumsy affair, but also a happy one. Sumac had his seltzer and he was content to lean up against Twinkleshine’s side while watching his mothers dance. Pebble seemed sated for now and was sipping on a mug of hot spiced cider.

Everything was peaceful, perfect, the night was wonderful, that is, until Sumac yawned.

Under these circumstances, yawning could end a pony, and even as Sumac was closing his mouth, Twinkleshine said the following: “It’s way, way past your bedtime, Sumac Apple.”

Was there even a bed for him to be tucked into for the night? For that matter, what was the plan for sleeping, anyhow? Pebble, having witnessed a yawn, now did so herself, and this caused Twinkleshine to yawn. Having seen both Pebble and Twinkleshine yawn caused Sumac to do so again, only he remembered to be polite and to cover his mouth.

“You did this.” Pebble’s tone and gaze was accusatory. She leveled her leaden, deadpan stare upon Sumac and for a moment, she was her mother’s spitting image, but then she succumbed to yet another yawn.

Fearing reprisal, Sumac slipped his lips around his straw and drank more of his seltzer, which was quite refreshing. He also averted his eyes, because Pebble yawning did something to his mind and body, something he just wasn’t prepared to deal with right now. Even as he stared down at the white tablecloth, he thought of Pebble’s yawning and felt warm all over, as if he sat in the sun for too long.

“How are Pebble and I supposed to sleep together if there is no bed?” Sumac asked.

Twinkleshine blinked once, made a strange sound in her throat, blinked again, and then stared off at some far, distant point. “Oh, there’s a bed,” Twinkleshine replied, her voice strained. “We have a guest room with exactly two beds. It’s not a very big room, nor are the beds very big, but uh…”

“What?” Sumac sensed that something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Was Twinkleshine upset about the yawning that he caused? Maybe she was. Nothing spoiled a party like going to bed early. Fearful, worried about Twinkleshine’s anger, he tried being cute with the hope that doing so would fix things. “I like sleeping with Pebble, it’s been nice. Sleeping with Pebble and her sister has been great.”

Boomer pulled an ice cube out of Sumac’s drink while the corners of Twinkleshine’s mouth twitched. Something was wrong still and when he lifted his head to try and understand what was going on, he saw that his mother, Twinkleshine, was making funny faces. Pebble was giving him a weird look as well, and the sound of Boomer’s crunching filled his ears.

“Well…” The pearlescent mare heaved a mighty sigh, her cheeks still tensing, and something unknown twinkled in her ice-blue eyes. She barked out a polite sounding cough, squirmed a bit, and then, with a turn of her head, she cast her eyes downwards in Sumac’s direction. “It’s going to be fun, raising you and teaching you the ways of the world, Sumac. You don’t realise it, I’m sure, but you just made my night. I’m going to have fond memories of this for the rest of my life.”

“What’d I do?” he asked.

“Nevermind what you did… you just keep being you, Sumac.”

“Okay.” Confused, he puckered his lips around his straw and had a bit more seltzer while Boomer pulled out a second ice cube.

“Look at them… dancing like dorks,” Twinkleshine said while she gestured in the direction of Trixie and Lemon Hearts with her hoof.

Sensing that there was something to be learned here, Sumac’s ears pricked. “Why aren’t you dancing with them?”

“Well…” She drew out this word to a great length and followed it up with a long pause. “Trixie needs it more than I do. It’s been hard on her… Trixie. Look, we’re not supposed to talk about it with you, but you already know. Since you were taken, she’s been a nervous wreck. So she gets to dance with Lemon and I get to watch you. Because somepony has to watch you and Limestone is busy doing the cyclopean clop-bopper by herself. Look at her go.”

Limestone was, indeed, doing something, but Sumac had no idea what it was.

“You don’t mind spending time with me?” he asked, fearful of what the answer might be.

A single whoop of laughter escaped from the pink-maned mare and then her words came pouring out in a flood. “Sumac, you’re at that age where you’re interesting. You can talk about stuff, ask questions, and you’re trying to figure the world out. If I can get away with telling you the truth, I don’t much care for infant foals. All that crying and pooping and crying and pooping and sure they’re cute and all, but that gets old fast. With you, I got to skip all of that and get right to the good stuff without having to earn it, which makes you pretty much the best son ever.”

Sumac felt a giddy pride come galloping up upon him and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at them dance, Sumac… it makes my heart feel all fluttery.”

Brimming with youthful inquisitiveness, Sumac watched. Trixie and Lemon Hearts stood neck to neck, pressed up against one another, and together, they moved in a slow circle. It wasn’t so much dancing as it was swaying, but there was something to it, something grand and profound. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Pebble too, showed interest, and the young colt knew how she felt about dancing.

“That’s worth protecting,” Twinkleshine said under her breath.

Casting a glance up at Twinkleshine, Sumac had an inkling that she was getting something different out of this. He had no idea what it was—he couldn’t even begin to guess—but his intuition told him that she had married for very different reasons than Trixie or Lemon Hearts. Something more than love was at work here and he thought about Princess Luna’s little chit-chat earlier.

Clearly, Twinkleshine was getting something that had profound meaning for her.

Sumac understood that ponies did different things for different reasons, but something about this situation really drove that fact home. He had always been under the impression that ponies married for love—and no doubt, Twinkleshine loved, or she would not have married—but she had motivations that went beyond love. He wished that he understood, but he was stuck with foalish understanding.

Stifling a belch, he set his glass down upon the table in front of him and kept watching.

Annoyed, Boomer lept from Sumac’s neck to the table, where she continued to plunder ice from the mostly empty glass of seltzer. Maybe when she was older, Boomer would understand the importance of this night, and he resolved to tell her all about it. Pebble touched his chin and with gentle motion, turned his head until he saw Gosling dancing with Cadance.

His jaw dropped.

Where others danced for love, some danced just to show off and Sumac was certain that he was seeing some kind of pegasus dominance display gone horribly wrong. Princess Luna watched the commotion with wide, eager eyes, while Princess Celestia’s eyes rolled with enough force and ferocity to turn back the wheels of time, perhaps so this shameful display would be stricken from memory. After a moment, with a light, gentle touch upon his chin, Pebble turned his head once more, and so he found himself looking at his mothers again.

It was one more memory among the many created this special night.

Author's Note

There will be an epilogue.

Epilogue

⤟Hearth's Warming⤠

The brand new phonograph was of exceptional quality and the sound that poured from the speakers was indistinguishable from the real thing coming from a live performance. Octavia had never sounded better than she did right now, and Vinyl Scratch was listening with a critical pricked ear. Of particular interest to Sumac was the fact that the high-fidelity phonograph was made by Scratch-Tastic Industries. Nothing had been said about it, but Sumac found it quite fascinating, that Vinyl had begun production of her own sound equipment, no doubt built to her exacting standards.

A myriad of holiday scents almost overwhelmed Sumac and would be forever associated with the holidays. Sweet and savoury spices, the distinctive scent of beeswax candles, the overpowering perfume of evergreens, every memory created seemed to have a smell that paired with it. For Sumac, this Hearth’s Warming would be truly unforgettable, because it was his first time celebrating it in such a way, surrounded by friends and family.

Though some part of Sumac missed the hungry, chilly moments spent in the wagon.

“Quite a haul, Kiddo,” said Trixie with one raised eyebrow. “You made out like a bandit.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say, but to his own surprise the words came anyhow. “I don’t know what to do with it all.” This was true; in all of his life, he had never had so much stuff. What did a pony do with all of this stuff?

“We have a house now.” Trixie’s eyebrow arched a little more and she leaned down closer to her son. “There’s plenty of space to keep it all—”

“It’s more than that.”

“I know, Kiddo.” Reaching out, Trixie gave Sumac an affectionate pat. “It’s hard for me too, Sumac. You never had a lot of stuff so I never really found out what you had an interest in. Made it really hard to buy stuff. So far, all of your interests exist in the immaterial out of necessity.”

“No wonder he talks like a little, miniature adult.” Cloudy’s soft words caused Trixie to turn and face the middle-aged mare. “You don’t speak to him like he’s a foal. Such big words. Pebble gets it from her parents too. Spending time together as a family has been a real eye-opener.”

“Nopony ever told me that you were supposed to talk to foals a certain way.” For a second, Trixie was pensive, almost lost in thought, but then she shook her head and focus returned to her eyes. “Sumac and I have had adult conversations going back as far as I can remember. It’s weird that I even remember, if I can be honest, because I’ve done so much to forget everything in my life. So many regrets. But time spent with Sumac… I found that I wanted to remember… I didn’t want to forget.”

“Sounds like you let go of the past and worked on creating a future,” Octavia remarked.

“Perhaps.” Trixie shrugged and then squared her withers. “Ever since our little trip to Canterlot, I can’t stop thinking about this stuff. What it is that changed me. What brought me to where I am right now. A part of me has a hard time believing that all of this is real.”

Sumac was just about to share his own thoughts on the matter when Limestone—dusted in flour—trotted into the living room. Now, Limestone, being the sort of pony she was, gave her mother a friendly, well-floured nuzzle. Cloudy responded by trying to shove her daughter away. While Limestone retreated, grinning, her eyes twinkling with mischief, delighted by her mother’s irritation, Cloudy tried brushing away the flour.

“Pebble needs your help, Sumac,” said Limestone while deftly dodging a cuff from her mother. “Come on, I’ll give you a ponyback ride into the kitchen so you can take part in the most sacred of Pie Family traditions.”

As he was lifted up onto Limestone’s back, Sumac wondered what Pebble wanted.

Now Sumac too, was dusted in flour, courtesy of Limestone and his efforts in the kitchen. He had a pale, ghostly appearance and likened himself to being a holiday spirit. Though tired and a bit worn out from his work in the kitchen, he was in good cheer, because he had helped Pebble make a Hearth’s Warming gift for her parents.

The chocolate brown filly seemed so small compared to her father, who stood so tall. Tarnish was drinking ginger beer, the really hot kind that left you all sweaty after you drank some. It was home-brewed, made by Tarnish himself, and Sumac was rather fond of it. Tarnish was standing in front of the window, watching the falling snow when Pebble approached, and Sumac could feel the tension, the apprehension building up inside of him. Pebble had poured her heart and soul into her gift, but because it wasn’t perfect, she was kind of moody.

“Father,” she said while she sidled up close to her dad.

The mug came away from Tarnish’s lips, and he replied, “Yeah?”

A flash of orange could be seen on Pebble’s brown lips, her tongue, and when she turned to Sumac for a moment, staring back over her withers, he gave her a nod of encouragement. She wanted perfection—demanded it—but everything was fine and Sumac thought they had done a pretty good job, all things considered. Tarnish lifted up his mug and began to down his ginger beer in great, audible gulps.

“Father,” Pebble began again, “Sumac and I made you a pie. Limestone showed us what to do. I made the dough and Sumac dumped a load of custard filling into my pie and with his help we got a pie into the oven.”

Pebble was interrupted by her father spewing ginger beer out his nostrils and all over the window. She paused, eyes blinking, looking up at her father with great concern while he coughed and spluttered. Tears ran from his eyes and Sumac couldn’t imagine how much pain would be caused by blisteringly hot ginger beer coming out one’s nose.

Hot and painful enough to make a pony prance in place, by the looks of things.

Glancing around, Sumac tried to figure out what was going on. Most of the adults were acting funny—again. Some were biting their own hooves, some were coughing, choking, and trying to fight back a laugh. Maud was looking right at him and there was something about her eyes, though he could not say what it was.

Vinyl broke; clutching her sides, she fell off of the sofa and rolled around on the floor, shaking with near-silent, wheezing laughter. Octavia turned her head away and coughed politely into her hoof, then coughed again, and then made an odd sound that sounded like a strangled cough-giggle. Lemon Hearts clung to Twinkleshine, her face red, and Twinkleshine was just shaking her head from side to side while the corners of her mouth had fits. Trixie buried her face against Pinny’s neck, and Tarnish’s mother pulled the smaller mare closer while the both of them shook with muffled laughter.

When Tarnish could almost breathe again, Pebble said to him, “It’s peppermint custard. The crust seems a little soggy and I’m rather upset about it. I worked so hard and I think I did everything right and everything was measured just so and for some reason, it still didn’t turn out perfect. What is the point of being so careful if you aren’t assured perfection? It’s not fair.”

The window was messy with ginger beer.

“Limestone showed Sumac how to fill a pie with custard—”

Tarnish choked once more and swayed on his hooves, his eyes bulging. Maud’s sides were heaving, her nostrils were wide, and her ears were folded back into her mane. Sumac could not help but feel that the adults were having a laugh at he and Pebble’s expense. When Maud got up off the couch, Sumac wondered what was going on. Her hooves made muted thuds against the floor with every step and she moved with a smooth, fluid grace that was marvellous to witness.

When Sumac turned his head, his legs wobbled a bit, threatening to give out beneath him, but he somehow remained standing. He was getting better, each day saw more and more improvement. Maud came to stand beside her husband, and Sumac could no longer see her face because she was looking up and standing on Tarnish’s far side. After coughing a bit more, Tarnish sneezed, which left the window even stickier and messier.

“Yuck,” Pebble said while backing away a few steps.

Maud slipped beneath Tarnish, tickling his belly with her ears as she passed, then she dropped her head down close to Pebble, and whispered something that Sumac couldn’t hear. After hearing whatever it was her mother said, Pebble looked up at her father and then went still. There were snickers coming from all around the room and even Tarnish managed to sputter out a weak chuckle.

“Come with me,” said Maud to Sumac.

Though he intended to obey, to be obedient, he lingered, still confused.

Maud took a few steps, her confident, measured stride allowed her to move with a catlike ease, and came to a halt so that she might look at Sumac. “Come on, you’re not in trouble, I just want to talk. In another room, away from all these silly ponies.”

When Maud left him behind, Sumac hesitated for a moment, uncertain, but then followed after the solid-yet-somehow-lissome mare.

Limestone and Pinkie Pie had been cleared out of the kitchen with but two words from Maud: “Get out.” The two sisters departed to giggle and have fun elsewhere while Maud sat down upon the hearth in front of the fire. After a moment, she patted the stone floor beside her, indicating that Sumac should come over and sit down with her. Though cautious, Sumac couldn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t, but something about this filled him with a sense of unease.

But Maud Pie was a good pony and she could be trusted.

So why was he worried?

Halfway to Maud, Sumac found his stride and his legs seemed to be working without their usual sense of delay. The effect was so profound that he marvelled at his newfound sense of movement. Why, he could even give his tail a flick and not have to worry about his hind legs quitting. It felt so good that he almost wanted to pronk, just to see if he could, but Maud was waiting for him to come and sit with her.

When he sat down, Maud slipped a foreleg around him and pulled him closer. It wasn’t that Maud wasn’t an affectionate pony, rather, it was just that she didn’t show it often. Sumac knew her to be warm, caring, and protective. Moments where she did show feelings or affection were all the more special because of their scarcity.

Maud sighed, a heavy sound, as if a bored anvil suddenly drew breath. Behind Sumac, the fire crackled while casting a cheerful orange light into the kitchen. As for the kitchen itself… it was a mess, but that could be cleaned. The huge mess was just another chance at togetherness, a boring chore made delightful with the company of others.

“When Tarnish and I first heard that Pebble had made a friend, we were overjoyed.” Again, Maud sighed, and when she did, the fabric of her smock rubbed against Sumac’s cheek. “Pebble… is a difficult pony to get along with. She’s a bit like me, in that I am difficult to understand and tolerate. But Pebble has something that I didn’t… a foalhood friend. Sure, I had my sisters… but…”

Sumac waited for Maud to elaborate.

“It’s strange, I never expected to have this much in common or to have this much understanding with my mother.” The flat quality of Maud’s voice was gone now, replaced with the merest suggestions of variation. “For so many years, my mother was a stranger to me. I just… could not understand her. I mean, I loved her, but I always felt that she had the stupidest, most illogical reasons for doing everything. She frustrated me a lot, so it felt good to hit the road and leave home.”

Listening, his ears pricked, Sumac wondered what Maud was getting at.

“Pebble’s foalhood friend is a colt though.” Rather than sigh, Maud heaved a soft snort. “Tarnish can’t help himself, Sumac. This keeps him awake at night, and I must confess, it causes me some concern as well. Tarnish and I… we love you. We do. We love you like a son. I’ll come right out and say it, we adore you. But Tarnish… he has all these anxieties, these thoughts, the hopes, dreams, and worries. And you… you’re the cause of so many of them.”

Now, it was Sumac who sighed.

“Tarnish has crazy thoughts. He’s naturally insecure and is always second-guessing stuff. He worries about the worst outcomes even as he frets over the best. My husband… he worries constantly about what will happen if you and Pebble stop being friends, but he’s also terrified of you and Pebble staying friends, because he knows what will happen when you and Pebble get older. He’s a bit obsessive and he’s having trouble dealing with all of this. Sometimes, by accident, you and Pebble say or do things that just set him off.”

“Yeah?” Sumac struggled to understand, but he had a faint inkling of what was going on.

“I accept Tarnish’s insecurities and have learned to live with them because he accepts me with how I am and has learned to live with me and my peculiarities. My quirks. I am not an easy pony to get along with, or spend any length of time with. Most ponies just sort of give up. They decide that I’m not worth the effort and they go to fulfill their friendship needs elsewhere. But not Tarnish. No, Tarnish is stubborn and thickheaded. For whatever reason, he sees me as this great mystery, and he’s dedicated his life to understanding me.”

Sumac too, thought that Pebble was a great mystery, and he gave Maud’s words the careful consideration that they deserved. Maud wasn’t speaking down to him, or trying to explain this in some foalish way, which he appreciated, even though he struggled to understand. Thinking of what Maud had just said, perhaps the struggle was the important part, because Tarnish struggled. Somewhere in all of this, there was a lesson to be learned.

“So Tarnish… he knows that his daughter has… issues. He was actually in denial for quite a while, but it was Octavia who finally out-stubborned him and made him admit that there was a problem. That caused some friction between them. It strained their friendship and for the longest time, Tarnish lived with crippling fear that Octavia would just get sick of the bickering and leave. He somehow convinced himself that our sacred trust was crumbling. I tell you this so that you’ll understand Tarnish a little better. How he thinks and why he does what he does.”

“Pebble, she’s not like other foals.”

“No, Sumac, she isn’t.”

“I’m not either.”

“And that is the source of Tarnish’s problems.” Maud leaned her head down and angled it in such a way that she could look into Sumac’s eyes. “You and Pebble are foals, but Tarnish… he wants things to work. He has all of these silly hopes and dreams, but some of these dreams are nightmares. You and Pebble are going to get older and grow bolder. Tarnish loves you like a son, but has these fears that you’ll be enemies, as fathers and colts sometimes are. It’s funny, you don’t realise it, Sumac, but you’ve caused Tarnish and my father to become quite close. Late at night, after you’ve gone to bed, they drink together and fret. Mostly, they talk about you, and all of this silly talk about keeping one’s daughters safe. Tarnish has two daughters now, and they’ve consumed his thoughts. Might’ve even made him a little crazy. And somehow, I don’t think talking to my father helps him none.”

As these words settled into his mind, Sumac came to a sort of puzzled understanding about life, something that he was unsure if he could put into words. Everypony had hopes and dreams, and, sometimes, these hopes and dreams caused conflicts when bumping into somepony else’s hopes and dreams. Everypony had something they wanted out of life, and expectations of others who shared their lives. Tarnish, it seemed, had something that he wanted, while Sumac, the foal that he was, still had trouble conceiving whatever it was he might do as an adult.

But Tarnish was also afraid of he and Pebble staying together, of what might come of that, and Sumac had an idea of what that particular that was. What an awful thing for a father to be afraid of. To make matters worse, Igneous was visiting, and Igneous, Maud’s father, had to know that Maud and Tarnish were doing that, so Sumac reckoned that the knowledge of that happening must make things unbelievably intricate between Igneous and Tarnish. Adult relationships were complicated and Sumac decided that he wanted nothing to do with them.

Yet, there was no escaping them and he had no choice but to go forward.

“So Tarnish wants Pebble and I to be together,” Sumac said, almost whispering. “And I guess you do too.”

“It starts when we’re young,” Maud replied, sighing out the first part of her response. “Pinkie Pie would make her toys kiss and give them elaborate weddings… parties. She had their futures all planned out and if you took the time to listen to her, she had very detailed futures. I never saw what she got out of that, but I liked that it made her happy. Of course, I realised one day that those futures that Pinkie had for her toys, those were futures that she wanted for herself. Pinkie had some well-constructed narratives of what would happen… it worries me now that I think about it, because Pinkie has some very specific wants. It’s a shame that she’s already had her heart get broken, because that was never in her narratives.”

“And Tarnish worries that Pebble and I will stop being friends and Pebble’s heart will be broken?”

“Yes, Sumac, every father fears that, even as he fears the consequence of staying together.” Maud’s foreleg slid along Sumac’s spine, moving back and forth in a slow, steady motion, and her gaze became unfocused. “When I gave birth to Pebble, my father got mad at Tarnish. Big mad. It was the most unreasonable thing I think my father has ever done. It caused problems with the family and it even cast a bit of a shadow over the glorious time of Pebble’s birth. My father, he tried to keep it to himself, but it kept slipping out at the worst possible moments.”

Perplexed by this, Sumac asked, “What happened?”

“Marble happened.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Marble figured out what was going on, and she convinced Tarnish to apologise.”

“Huh.” A deep furrow appeared just below Sumac’s horn and just above his brows. “Did that work?”

“Not at first, no.” Maud shook her head, then lifted it and glanced around at the dirty, messy kitchen. “But Tarnish apologised for hurting me and causing me distress. It wasn’t at all logical, it didn’t make sense, and Tarnish shouldn’t have had to apologise for reproduction, the very thing that continues a species.” She let out a huff, shook her head again, and this time, she stared up at the ceiling, thoughtful. “I swear, I don’t understand other ponies. But the apology worked. Eventually, they could sit at the table and share a meal together, but my father kept giving Tarnish that look, and Tarnish, being the poor insecure sort he is, he couldn’t weather that level of intense, paternal scrutiny. Families don’t always make sense, Sumac, so sometimes you have to humour them.”

“And that’s what Pebble needs to learn,” said Sumac to Maud.

“Now I don’t follow,” Maud replied, returning her gaze to the colt she held.

“That other ponies don’t make sense, but sometimes, you have to do something silly or stupid that doesn’t make sense in order to keep the peace. Marble understood it, even if you didn’t, she understood the cause of it and how to smooth it over. Even though it seems dumb to you, it made sense to Marble. Pebble is so wrapped up in her own self that she can’t take advice from others and she doesn’t trust the advice that others give her. Because she’s so smart, she thinks everypony else is so stupid, and that they couldn’t possibly have the same level of understanding that she does. She invalidates the ideas of others without even taking a moment to consider them.”

“That… that… wait… I’m guilty of that.” Maud’s mouth contorted into a stony frown and her ears splayed out sideways. “I do that all the time and there’s this constant low-level resentment that is always there, bothering me. I just stay frustrated at the stupidity of others and I’m bothered that I have to engage myself in their stupid social rituals and—uh-oh. Pebble turned out like me. Only not like me, because she’s more outspoken and… oh… fronk me.”

When Maud swore, it was somehow even worse than when normal ponies swore.

“And of course, being the stubborn mare that I am, I dismissed everything that others said about Pebble because I was her mother and so I knew best. What could they possibly know about my daughter that I didn’t know?” After a heavy grunt, she added, “Mistakes have been made.”

An adult had just admitted that they were wrong and Sumac wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about this. He had, of course, witnessed this before, but this, this was Maud of all ponies, and with her admission of wrongness, she seemed to be having some kind of crisis. It could be seen on her face, her scowling frown. Of all of life’s recent lessons, this was the one most difficult to bear for Sumac, because Maud just looked so uncomfortable.

“You know, Sumac… life does its best to lie to you.” Maud lifted her foreleg from around Sumac, reached up, and rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her smock. “From our earliest ages, we’re told what to be afraid of. Stories… books… they have these clearly-defined scary things. Monsters. Dragons. The big bad scary guy made to stand out. We make such a point to be scared of these things.”

Ears pricked, Sumac listened.

“But in these stories, the very things that for some of us, most of us, these stories form our personalities, and the big bad is never a vague concept. It’s always a dragon, but it is never the crippling social anxiety or insecurity that Tarnish battles every single day. Or an evil magician that does elaborate acts of despicable evil, deeds that make the reader hate them, because they are evil, and they are supposed to be hated. It’s a definable concept that can be grasped by anypony, even a foal. What about my own constant struggle just to fit in and belong? For the longest time, I didn’t think I needed to belong. I convinced myself of that. But then Tarnish came along and the carefully constructed lie that I’d built around me like a fortress… it all fell down. The narratives that we peddle that enforce how we think, they never include these scary things.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Sumac said to Maud, while feeling small and insecure.

Maud’s scowl intensified into something truly unpleasant. She wiped her eyes again, and as her foreleg was returned to rest upon Sumac, her expression softened into something else, something that Sumac, try as he might, could not read. It made his neck ache to look up at her, but he persisted, determined to understand. Maud had just said more words than he could ever remember her saying, but then again, he had made a point of listening. Tarnish listened, and Maud spoke.

Sumac saw a pattern.

“I’m sorry, I had a moment. There’s a lot inside of my head right now, and some of it just slipped out.” She drew in a deep breath, but this wasn’t a sigh. No, it sounded as though Maud was restorting her stoic calm. “This is life’s real struggle, Sumac. Being a family. Having to cope with the expectations of others. This… this will be the most consuming thing you deal with, but also the most rewarding. And I wanted to talk to you about this. That was the point of why I brought you into the kitchen in the first place, but the conversation strayed a bit.”

“That’s okay,” said Sumac to Maud, trying to be reassuring. It sounded as though she needed it.

“You… your family situation just changed in a big way.” Maud’s deadpan was restored and her voice returned to its usual flat, unremarkable tone. “Now that I’ve mentioned it, Pebble’s family situation has changed too… you know, Sumac, without you, I’m not so sure that Pebble would have accepted Megara. You’ve really made Pebble open up in a way that nopony else has.”

How did one respond to that? Sumac didn’t know, so he remained silent.

“I wanted to tell you things, to talk about these family situations, and share what I’ve had to learn. It’s been hard, Sumac… real hard. I want your family situation to work, but I confess, I have my own selfish reasons. You see, I want it to work so that in the future, should things work out with Pebble, that is, you’ll have a better chance of sorting out your differences. By getting started now, by understanding and trying to sort out of all of these complexities. We’re not like other ponies, Sumac. I think you’ve figured that out by now. All those rules that apply to them? They don’t work for us. They work against us.”

“They don’t work for me because I’m an introvert?”

“Right, Sumac, and I’m, well, I’m me. Octavia’s an introvert too, plus, she’s fussy, finicky, and demanding. She’s a hard, hard pony to put up with. Vinyl has dangerous ideas that put her at odds with the establishment and she celebrates her individuality. Because we’re a herd species, this makes Vinyl a pariah. Someday, I’ll tell you a story of the time that Vinyl almost got put into an asylum and Tarnish had to bust skulls. They both ended up in a lot in trouble, but I don’t think I can tell you that story until you’re older. Pebble is… Pebble. Tarnish… where do I even begin with Tarnish? There are times when I am mystified with how he thinks and acts.”

It took effort, but Sumac shook his head. “I don’t see Vinyl going quietly.”

“I want you to have a good understanding of all these relationship quirks now, so you can have a rewarding relationship with Pebble later.” After a thoughtful pause, she continued, “I suppose I’m creating narratives too. I like the idea of you and Pebble being together, being foalhood sweethearts, growing up together, and getting married. I must confess, it makes me happy. But I also worry about things happening, such as you and Pebble growing apart, or having a spat that destroys your friendship. Or things just not working out for whatever reason. No matter what happens though, I’ll always be your friend. You’ll always have a special place in my heart, because you’re dear to me, Sumac.”

“Um, thanks?”

His words got him a soft squeeze.

“Vinyl going quietly, that’s funny, because she’s mute,” Maud said after a moment of amicable silence. “Sorting out all of this relationship stuff is the hardest, most difficult thing you will ever do, Sumac. It is the dragon of this story, the evil magician, the ultimate evil that must be confronted. And that’s the problem into, and unto itself, Sumac. The party of adventurers that you gather to go on this epic quest will all have different ideas on how to approach this evil. You will fight and bicker. There will be moments when everything seems impossible to hold together and your relationships are doomed to failure. We’ve been at this for years now, and we’re still sorting it out.”

“But if I get started now, while I’m young, it’ll be easier?”

“Perhaps, Sumac. I don’t know. But that’s why I pulled you aside.”

“Does this mean that if Pebble and I have foals together, that I should apologise to Tarnish for what I’ve done?”

As fierce as her scowl was, Maud’s half-smile was somehow more radiant, more meaningful, an act of great significance. “That would probably be for the best. I think he would appreciate that. It might be the start of a new tradition, who knows?”

“I don't have much in the way of traditions.”

“No, Sumac, you don’t. We Pies, we have a surplus of traditions. Like when Pebble was born, she was swaddled, put in a pie pan, and presented to Tarnish. I told him I had baked him a little Pie. Pebble said much the same, and poor, poor Tarnish, he was not ready to hear those words coming from Pebble’s mouth.”

“Wait, were you put in a pie pan?”

“I sure was,” Maud replied. “Mom presented me to my father for his inspection. There’s even pictures and everything.” Her eyes traveled upwards, focusing on some nonexistent point upon the ceiling. “When Pinkie was born, my father said this pie was a bit too pink. See, Sumac, traditions are the building blocks of memories. Which is why we celebrate them, cherish them, and follow them. So I’d really like for you to have them. That’s part of the reason why we invited you and your mothers here, for Hearth’s Warming.”

“I’ve had a good time.”

Maud nodded, and her half-smile lingered. “That makes me happy. Tell me, Sumac, would you like to keep discussing this over tea?”

Author's Note

And so it ends, with the suggestion of tea.

Chapter 1

As far as measurements for friendship went, cuddles were a fantastic indicator of something special, or an advanced state of friendship. Snuggles, the next step up from cuddles, suggested an even higher level of intimacy on the Sparkle-Index for Friendship. Sumac Apple, one of Twilight’s many students, found himself in a position where the line between cuddling and snuggling had become blurred, and he did not know which was which.

He was wrapped up in a soft, fluffy blanket with Moondancer, the real Moondancer, pondering this friendship conundrum. She was still weak, frail, and bony. The mere suggestion of cold caused her to shiver in the most violent way. But she was recovering from her imprisonment with the changelings, and Sumac liked to think that his friendship with her had something to do with it.

Also covered up by the blanket was Fluttercup, which turned this into a friendship building exercise as well as a real test of character. Moondancer had been devastated to discover that the changeling that had replaced her had also somehow fooled her pet, and Sumac felt bad for her. At least she was getting better, though her replacement therapy sessions were pretty intense.

Little Sumac had sat with Moondancer during some of her replacement therapy sessions—both Princess Cadance and Twilight had insisted upon it, though the colt did not know why—and he had offered helpful words of encouragement, telling Moondancer that she would, indeed, get better. Sumac feared these sessions for their raw, emotional intensity, and because he hated the memory of what had happened.

Moondancer was showing remarkable signs of improvement and she appeared to be having an accelerated recovery. She was gaining weight—the holiday treats helped—and her coarse coat was becoming soft once more. The bald patches were filling in and her mane was gaining a little length, which Sumac knew she was happy about. Most of it had fallen out during her confinement.

“It’s still weird to me,” Moondancer said to Sumac in a trembling, almost halting voice. “I find it strange that you want to be my friend. Most ponies avoid me now because of my replacement. They have… trust issues. Others are angry because they got tricked and I still can’t figure out why they’re so angry with me. I’m the victim. It hurts a lot, Sumac.”

“Give it time,” Sumac replied, and he gave some serious thought as to what else to say. Feeling eyes on him, he looked over and saw that Twinkleshine was staring at him, peering over the top edge of her book. Something about her gaze left him feeling self conscious.

“You should hate me too.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.” Sumac struggled to lift his head to look at Moondancer, and couldn’t. His whole body trembled from his anger and his eyes angled in Moondancer’s general direction.

“I couldn’t save you from what happened. Every day, the guilt just eats me up.”

For a brief second, Sumac’s anger boiled over, and then it became something else. What it was, he could not say, but it hurt. His eyes sank and he found himself looking down at the blanket, a crocheted afghan, which was covered in many, many shed hairs of all different colours.

Some of them were blue.

“I think I’m having an off day,” Moondancer said, her voice now wavering more than ever. “The holidays are upon us and I feel so out of place. I don’t feel wanted or welcomed. It’s really hard for me.”

“Moonie, I’ve been your friend since foalhood, and I’m not giving up on you now. Lemon Hearts and I, we have your back.” Twinkleshine’s book snapped shut and the pearlescent mare’s eyes narrowed. “I can talk with Tarnish… I can ask him if you can stay with us—”

“No,” Moondancer shook her head. “I need peace and quiet. I can’t stand hustle and bustle.”

Frustrated, Twinkleshine’s lower lip now protruded, and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s really hard for me.” Moondancer closed her eyes for a few seconds, then looked over at her friend since foalhood. “Twilight’s parents will be staying with her in her castle. I’ve been invited to spend a few quiet evenings with them. I was promised a very calm, quiet atmosphere. I’m just having a hard time accepting the invitation. I… I don’t feel like I belong anymore.”

“We all have days where it feels like our progress has slipped away.” Sumac blinked a few times and realised that his glasses were dirty. Sticking his tongue out, he concentrated, his horn glowed, and then he squeezed out a cantrip that left his lenses spotless. “It’s frustrating and everything sucks. I still can’t use a toilet on my own and I hate it.”

“Sumac…” Twinkleshine gave the colt a stern look. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll both get lectured by Lemon. Is that what you want? A lecture? Because that’s how you get lectures—”

“Okay!” Sumac winced and thought of Lemon Hearts chewing his ear off.

“Lemon has been in a real mood lately,” Moondancer remarked. “Kinda sour…”

This made Twinkleshine smirk and raise an eyebrow. “This is our first winter holiday together… as a couple? No, there are three of us plus Sumac. A triple? A trouple? She’s frazzled and wants everything to be perfect. Lemon is the homemaker of the three of us and she keeps freaking out because things aren’t perfect.”

Sighing, Moondancer nodded her head. “I know how that feels.”

“Lemon needs everything to be perfect, because she’s planning something.”

“What’s she planning, Twinkle?” Sumac asked.

Shrugging, Twinkleshine made a confused face. “I have no idea.”

Without warning, the front door banged open and the howling wind swirled around the living room. The fire rose in angry defiance, crackling and spitting, and Twinkleshine’s horn ignited with a dangerous glow that rivaled the fire’s brightness. Trixie and Lemon Hearts stumbled in, bearing packages and bags, and it was Lemon who slammed the door shut behind them.

It took a few seconds for Twinkleshine’s horn to go dim.

“Moonie!” Lemon Hearts said in a warm voice that drove away the chill.

“Kiddo!”

“Nopony ever calls out my name when they get home,” Twinkleshine said with a dejected huff and she folded her forelegs over her barrel while settling into a pout.

“Twinklestinkle!” Lemon’s eyes were merry and her tone one of affectionate teasing.

Both mares set down their packages as well as bags, and then began peeling away their winter outerwear. Sumac shivered beside Moondancer and was thankful that there was a burning fire. It was cold outside. A heavy winter was planned, and it had something to do with restoring water tables.

Trixie shoved Lemon Hearts aside, causing the lemony yellow mare to blow a raspberry, and Sumac watched his mother as she came closer. He felt himself lifted, tugged out from beneath the blanket with Moondancer, and Trixie held him up in the air in front of her face. Sumac let out a nervouscited giggle when Trixie’s cold, wet snoot pressed into his cheek and she kissed him. He hung there, limp, his legs dangling, and then Trixie swept him in close while she sat down on the couch beside Moondancer.

Sumac found himself cradled in Trixie’s forelegs like a baby. He hated this, but there wasn’t much he could do about it, and it made Trixie happy. He saw this as motivation to get better—soon, he would be able to run away and this embarrassment would come to an end. Sumac was in no great hurry, however. His recent encounter with Chrysalis had left him with a genuine desire to be a little cuddlier with the adults in his life, though he would never admit it.

Trixie still had the cold clinging to her pelt and Sumac could feel it being warmed away while she held him. Her face was damp, her ears looked soggy, and he hoped that she had cleaned away any mud or dirt that might be on her hooves and fetlocks before holding him. It wasn’t hard—there were advantages to being a unicorn—but sometimes one forgot things during one’s excitement or if one was in a hurry.

“I had the money to buy you some presents this year, Sumac.”

Not knowing why, Sumac felt himself growing flustered. “Aw, Mom, that’s not needed—”

“Shush,” Trixie commanded. “I needed it. It makes me feel good. Now I don’t feel like a failure. We’re going to be a happy, loving family and we’re going to have a really, really nice time at Tarnish’s house while we stay there as his guests.”

Lemon began putting things away, picking up wet coats and outerwear from the floor so they could be hung on hooks. She scooped up boxes, packages, and bags, then carried them all into the kitchen, where they were put down on the counter. She hummed to herself, filling the house with a happy sound, and Sumac, safe, secure, and content in his mother’s embrace, came to a powerful realisation.

This was home, and this was his family.

With a bit of a wiggle, he managed to get his head to fall against Trixie’s barrel, and he listened to the sound of her heart beating. The warm tingle of magic wrapped around his fetlocks, and he felt one of his forelegs being stretched out.

“You’re getting socks, Sumac Apple.”

Squinting, Sumac couldn’t see what his mother was talking about, and he could feel Moondancer breathing on him as she leaned in for a better look. Trixie insisted that he was growing socks, that on each of his legs, his fetlocks were a somewhat lighter colour than the rest of his hide. He couldn’t see it, but others could, and this bothered him a bit.

“You’re right, Trixie, he is getting socks, but it is hard to tell, with him being such a pale colour.” Moondancer too, grabbed a leg, gave a tug, and had a closer look.

Sumac allowed himself to be groped and examined. There wasn’t much he could do but whine about it, and he just wasn’t in the mood to whine. He was happy and he could tolerate being pulled on while being fawned over. Plus, it made others happy. In the kitchen, he could hear the kettle being filled and the sounds of Lemon prancing around the kitchen.

“I saw Octavia while I was out today,” Trixie said to Sumac as she continued to examine his beige on beige foreleg. “She told me that you and Vinyl did some impressive magic together. Vinyl is very excited, from what I understand, and is on the verge of having a voice.”

“Yeah.” Sumac felt no need to toot his own horn.

“Kiddo, it’s funny what unicorns consider hard… I could do the voice spell she is attempting without any real effort at all, but other spells remain elusive to me and frustratingly out of my reach. It just goes to show you that we’re all special in our own way and that each of us have our own strengths and weaknesses.”

“I suck at combat spells,” Sumac said to his mother, and he felt a spark of anger. Had he been able to defend himself, things might have gone differently with Chrysalis. It didn’t matter than he was five or that his magic hadn’t matured, Sumac still leveled much of the blame of what had happened upon himself.

“SUMAC APPLE!” Lemon Hearts bellowed from the kitchen, causing every ear in the house to twitch in alarm. “What have I told you about using that kind of language! OOOOOH!” The lemony yellow mare that Sumac had accepted as his other mother boiled over like a kettle. “You are in so much trouble, little colt of mine!”

Cringing, Twinkleshine just had to drive her point home. “I told you Sumac, that is how you get lectures!”

Just outside the window, the city of Ponyville was being buried under snowflakes that glittered like falling diamonds in the warm illumination of the street lamps. The window was fogged over just a little, there was frost in the corners and around the edges. He could feel the cold coming from the glass, and knew that the responsible adults of the house wanted to close the drapes to keep the chill out.

Outside, just beyond the glass, he could hear laughter, the sounds of ponies out enjoying the festive night. The distant sounds of caroling could be heard, along with jingle bells. Inside, splashing water could be heard, and giggling. Trixie and Twinkleshine were taking a bath together—Twinkleshine said it was important to conserve water—and Sumac’s ears perked at the sounds of their happiness.

He felt a tug and Lemon lifted him, pulling him into a gentle, tender embrace. She stroked his ears, smoothed out his mane a bit, and then pulled him close. The scent of coffee cake clung to the yellow velvet that was her pelt and Sumac, content, closed his eyes. He wasn’t sleepy, nope. Just relaxed.

“Sumac, I need to talk to you.” Lemon’s voice was soft, a whisper, and her lips were right next to Sumac’s ears. She pulled the afghan around herself and Sumac, burying him and hiding him from view. She smiled when the colt yawned and pulled the afghan a little tighter around them both.

“Okay.”

“Sumac, our relationship is about to change. It needs to change. Trixie has come to accept some very hard, difficult truths lately, and she is feeling very insecure about herself. It has left her feeling doubtful and insecure about our relationship. So… I feel that our relationship that we have with one another needs to change, but I wanted to talk to you before we said or did anything.”

“Are you breaking up with my mom?” Sumac asked, opening his eyes.

“What? No!” Lemon Hearts almost sounded panicked. “No… nothing like that.”

“What’s going on?” Sumac closed his eyes again and struggled against the drowsy feeling that came with being so warm.

“Sumac, your mother… she isn’t gay,” Lemon Hearts whispered, and her forelegs squeezed tighter around Sumac.

“Uh oh.” Sumac’s eyes were now open once more, and he felt the first stirrings of panic.

“That’s her trouble, Sumac… she isn’t anything. She is asexual… just like her own mother. And right now, she is very, very scared that I am going to stop loving her, or turn her away. Trixie, just like her mother, still needs love, she needs intimacy, she still needs something to fill that big empty space in her heart. She’s doing a good job hiding everything that is wrong.”

Blinking, Sumac listened, but was in over his head and didn’t know what to say. Some time ago, he and Lemon had a talk about the different kinds of ponies and the different kinds of preferences, and how important it was to keep an open mind. He suspected that the chat they had a while ago was just preparation for this one.

“I really, really love her, Sumac.” Lemon paused, licked her lips, and then when she spoke again, her voice was a strained, squeaky whisper. “At some point, during the holidays, I’m going to ask her to marry me, and Twinkleshine too. I’m scared out of my mind, Sumac, and before I do anything, I want to make sure that you’re okay with this.”

Without a moment of hesitation, Sumac replied, “I’m fine. What’s the plan?”

Lemon Hearts let out a nervous laugh. “You’re something else, Sumac, you know that?”

“Yeah.” After a moment of quiet cuddling, he added, “I’d like to have a family. Like Pebble has. Sometimes, I’m a little jealous.” The colt yawned, smacked his lips together once, and then yawned once more. The sound of his mother’s giggling and the sound of carols outside was now a confusing, drowsy jumble inside of his head.

“Would you like for me to tuck you in?” Lemon Hearts asked.

“Yeah,” Sumac yawned. “I’d like that. Can you read me a story?”

“Which one?” Lemon asked.

“The one about the farting elephant that has trouble making friends.”

“Really, Sumac?”

“I like that story.”

Lemon Hearts sighed and shook her head.

“I’m five,” Sumac said to Lemon, offering up irrefutable logic. “I’m supposed to like that story.”

“Okay.” Lemon sounded hesitant and she gave Sumac a suspicious look, perhaps curious about being played.

“You have to make the noises too—”

“Sumac…”

“Please?”

“Okay, fine.” Lemon heaved a sigh and then muttered, “I think Applejack knew exactly what she was doing when she bought that book.”

“I love you, Lemon-Mom.”

Resigned to her terrible fate, Lemon Hearts smiled. “Just a few minutes more of this. When Trixie and Twinkleshine get out of the tub, we’ll all gather together and I’ll read Hitut the Unlikeable Elephant.”

Snuggling a little closer to Lemon Hearts, Sumac smiled and savoured his victory. “I like the part with the crocodile witch doctor and the cork and the spider named Anansi.”

“That poor, poor spider,” Lemon Hearts said in a voice filled with sincere sympathy. “Riding a cork, he flew across the ocean and found himself in a new land. Tarnish has met Anansi, from what I understand.”

“Don’t pull my leg, Lemon—”

“No, really, ask him about it.” Lemon grinned and one ear twitched. “I think I’ll fix cocoa and cookies for story time… how does that sound?”

“Do we have gingersnaps?”

“I think we do, if Trixie didn’t eat all of them…”

Author's Note

This will be a (relatively) short and (mostly) happy story.

Chapter 3

Twilight Sparkle, standing just inside the door, gave herself a mighty shake to free herself of snow. Being an alicorn, it caused the whole of the house to shake, and Sumac blinked in alarm while Boomer scurried over the wooden floor, her claws scratching, scrambling to reach him. The little dragoness looked distressed, and with a leap, she took flight, gliding, and crash landed onto the couch beside Sumac.

Spike took a more casual approach to snow removal, and brushed it off with his claws.

“Stab!” Boomer cried and she pointed at her skinny backside. “Ow! Ow! Owie!”

“Oh no!” Sumac watched as Boomer pantomimed her injury by poking her backside with her tiny, curved claw.

“We both got our vaccinations and our boosters,” Spike said as he helped Twilight pull off her heavy coat. The dragon had to brace himself against the floor, then he heaved and tugged to get Twilight free. The wool coat was clingy however, and did not wish to come along in a quiet, calm manner that Spike would have prefered. “Ugh, it smells like wet horse in here.”

“Spike, take a message,” Twilight commanded.

“Yeah?” Spike looked up at Twilight with an expectant squint.

“You’re a jerk!”

It was Lemon Hearts who laughed first, and then with a swish of her tail, she took off for the kitchen with a wide grin upon her face. Trixie helped Twilight pull off the rest of her wet outerwear, while Twinkleshine scooped up Boomer so the little dragoness could be dried. After a moment of hesitation, Twinkleshine made a casual toss and Boomer landed in the roaring fire, where she began giggling because the flames tickled.

Spike took one look at Boomer and then joined her in the fire. Steam hissed and sizzled from both dragons, who were dried in an instant in the crackling, spitting flames. Boomer made the most of it and began rubbing herself with cherry-red embers, as if she was taking a bath and washing herself with soap.

“Tra-la-la-la-la!” she sang while scrubbing.

“You know,” Trixie remarked, “you’d think that you’d get used to that, but you don’t. I still feel panic when she does that. A great and powerful sense of motherly panic.”

Twilight, who nodded in acknowledgment, crossed the room so that she could warm herself by the fire. She spread her wings, struck a majestic pose, and almost knocked a lamp over. The house was made with unicorns or earth ponies in mind, creatures who did not need to spread their wings indoors, and the cosy living room now felt cramped.

“They told me not to fly through a blizzard, but I didn’t listen,” Twilight grumbled while she stood there with a ferocious scowl. “It’s not so bad down here in Ponyville, but up near Canterlot? Ugh!”

“I got airsick.” Spike stepped out of the fire and then stood there on the hearthstone so that he might cool off. “And Boomer fell off. Twilight had to rescue her. And then I fell off when Twilight went swooping after Boomer. Not a fun trip.”

“Fun!” Boomer screamed in a shrill, over-excited voice and then she began to dance in the crackling flames while shaking her frills. Reaching out, she grabbed Spike’s tail, gave it a tug, and looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he might join her once more. When he did not, Boomer threw herself down into the glowing cinders and began to roll around, all while humming to herself.

The spicy scent of chai filled the living room and Sumac was able to lift his head just a bit when he sniffed. With halting, jerky motions, he kicked out his front legs, stretched a bit, and continued sniffing the delightful aroma that was drifting into the living room from the kitchen. Spike, now cooled off, stepped off of the hearthstone and onto the wooden floor, cautious. When he saw that the wood did not burn, he waddled away to join Lemon Hearts in the kitchen, the room where Spike felt the most comfortable.

“Twilight, you okay?” Trixie asked while deep furrows of worry appeared upon her brow.

In response to Trixie’s question, Twilight took several deep breaths, then turned her head to look at her half-sister. “Just all the usual worries all acting up at once. Keeping everypony safe. Keeping Ponyville safe. I’m worried about Moondancer. I have this terrible dread that everything will go wrong before Hearth’s Warming.”

Sumac’s ears perked at these words.

“Rarity has asked me to be the guest of honour at some big holiday party… a fundraiser. I don’t know if I am up for it, but I can’t tell her no. To many needy ponies. Everything is just stressful right now.” Twilight folded in her wings, turned about, and her gaze fell upon Sumac. “You’re growing socks.”

“I don’t see ‘em,” Sumac grumbled.

“Any visitors?” Twilight asked. Then, with her eyes narrowing, she added, “Special visitors?”

“Nopony from the future… yet.” Sumac angled his eyes to look at Twilight. “You?”

“Sunburst, Starlight, you, and myself.” Twilight’s eyes narrowed even more. “Starlight, our Starlight, the Starlight from the present, she has a worrisome theory that her acts of time travel might have caused ripples in the timeline. Neither one of us are certain of what that means. Starlight is getting paranoid and she insists that there is some outside force working to correct whatever damage has been done. I don’t think that’s possible, but hey, you never know, right?”

“She has a compelling theory.” Twinkleshine’s ears perked and she began rubbing her chin. “She’s been sharing her notes with me. Starlight believes that ripples, once they are put into motion, cannot be stopped. Even if you prevent the pebble from being dropped into the water, so to speak, the ripples will still happen because the fabric of space and time, once touched, cannot be untouched. So, even though she stopped the rock from dropping, there are still consequences of her actions manifesting because no action can be completely undone. Time and space still registers that something has happened and the ripples persist.”

“Immutable events.” Within seconds of uttering these words, Sumac felt every eye in the room on him. “What? Vinyl’s been teaching me stuff. I kinda know what it is, even if I don’t fully understand it.”

With the sound of claws scratching on stone, Boomer crawled out of the fireplace and began cooling on the hearthstone, bringing with her a mess of ashes. She was oblivious of the conversation in the room, and if there were any lingering bad feelings from getting a shot in her behind, she didn’t show it.

With a somewhat random suddenness, Sumac felt the need to voice one of his concerns and he cried out, “Is Boomer getting her own cup of tea?”

“No,” Lemon shouted back from within the kitchen. “You can share yours.”

“Aw, nuts, I don’t wanna!”

“Why not?”

“She blows bubbles and stuff”—Sumac sucked in a deep, pouty breath—“dragon germs… blech.”

“What’s wrong with dragon germs?” Spike asked Lemon Hearts, and Twilight, who was in the living room, began laughing.

Without any warning whatsoever, Sumac found himself lifted from his spot on the couch and placed down on the floor. He stiffened his legs and much to his relief, somepony was still holding on to him. All of his muscles tensed, including his stomach muscles, and he felt a burble from his backside, a warning to let him know that something wicked this way comes. Two things happened all at once.

The first, Sumac noticed how much larger the room was. Being down on the floor stood out in sharp contrast to being on the couch, being on somepony’s back, or being carried. The doors were enormous, with door levers just out of reach. The fireplace was gargantuan, intimidating, and the flames within were taller than he was. Even the couch, his fortress of comfort, was a colossal construction that dwarfed him. Sumac hadn’t felt this small in a while and it was disorienting to feel this way once more.

The second, he didn’t pitch over right away. His head hung low, his neck weak, but his knees did not buckle and his legs turn into noodly appendages. Much to his shock and surprise, nopony was holding him, and he became aware of the fact that Twilight was staring at him. Had she done this to him? It was possible. Fearing for his balance, he kicked out a too-stiff leg to correct his wobble, but it was too much and he pitched forward. The rest of his legs reacted, and he ambulated about like a newborn foal.

And then, he was walking.

Sort of.

He was walking and falling. With the clopping of hooves, Sumac tried to save himself from an embarrassing fall. Things were working, just like the doctor had promised they would. The connections were resetting and Sumac forgot all about Boomer blowing bubbles into his chai and leaving behind dragon germs. The colt let out a startled whinny and shook his head while he careened towards the wall

Just before impact, Twilight tugged his tail to set him going in another direction. Now, he wobbled around, stumbling, walking and falling towards the kitchen door. His neck sagged and his head was too low, which threw off his balance. Nopony laughed, which was a relief, and Sumac focused on remaining upright.

One hind hoof hit a wet spot on the wooden floor, lost traction, went shooting out from beneath him, and he sat down. His front legs trembled and kicked, trying to keep him sitting upright. At least he didn’t sit on anything delicate, and for this, he was thankful. He looked up and found his mother staring down at him.

“Hmm,” Trixie said, humming out a soft utterance. “Kiddo, I think we’re done letting you lounge around on the couch. No more being a sofa spud—”

“A couch cucumber?” Sumac gave his mother a sheepish grin.

“Yes, that too.” Trixie reached down and booped Sumac on the nose. “I know you’re scared of falling, and I know how scared you are of getting hurt, but I think this proves that you’re capable of a bit more than you realise. Kiddo, how is your neck?”

“Cramping,” Sumac replied, being honest.

“Hmm,” Twilight and Trixie both hummed together.

Twilight, saying nothing else, scooped Sumac up from off of the floor, put his legs beneath him, and then set him down once more. She watched him wobble and Sumac struggled to lift his head to look up at her. Then, Sumac felt a faint tickle of magic beneath his chin, and his head rose, supported by Twilight’s telekinesis. With his head lifted, some, but not all, of his balance returned, and he was able to stand a little better.

“I’m still amazed that Cadance and Radiant Heart were able to fix you.” Trixie breathed these words and she shook her head. “It’s every mother’s nightmare. When they said your neck was broken I wanted to die. Trixie had a great and powerful worry… but she was also ready to spend the rest of her life taking care of you, no matter your condition.”

Trixie was shaking and Sumac could feel a case of the shivers coming on. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, he didn’t want to think about that day, not today. With Twilight holding up his head, he stood without too much trouble, but his legs were already getting tired. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude, of happiness—the very joy of being alive overcame Sumac, and he stumbled into Trixie’s forelegs just so he could feel her against him.

“Who wants some chai?” Lemon called out from the kitchen.

Held up by Twilight, Sumac sniffed his peppery, spicy chai. His forelegs rested on the edge of the table and he eyeballed Boomer to let her know that she was to stick to her own cup—his was off limits. The table was crowded, which was troubling to the little introvert, but Sumac liked it this way. He liked the sense of family, of closeness, of togetherness.

“How’s Adventus?” Sumac asked, worried about the pony he hadn’t seen for a while.

“Not much has changed,” Twilight replied and she watched as Spike helped Boomer with her chai. “It bothers me that I can’t seem to help him. He’s such a nice pony… if I ever catch the ponies responsible for his condition, I’m going to have Tarnish turn them all into trees.”

Blinking once, Lemon Hearts turned to look at her dear friend. “Really? Are you just saying that out of anger, or do you mean it?”

“Oh, I mean it,” Twilight muttered in reply. “It feels fitting to me… commit crimes against nature and you answer to the Heliophant himself.” Twilight’s ears sagged for a moment, then stood back up. “Our prisons remain a weak spot. Not only are they vulnerable to attack, as we have seen, but I have doubts about how effective they are as a means of rehabilitation.”

“Have you and Princess Celestia been arguing again?” Twinkleshine asked.

“Yes.” Twilight let the word out in a disappointed huff.

“And she’s winning?” Twinkleshine’s eyebrow raised.

“Well of course she’s winning!” Twilight’s wings flapped against her sides and her ears folded back against her head. “She has near-impervious logic and thousands of years of experience. What do I have? A burning desire for change for the sake of change and I have my youthful ideals. It’s frustrating! I can’t have new, original ideas because Princess Celestia has already had them.”

“And tried them?” Twinkleshine lifted up her teacup and peered at Twilight over the top edge of it.

Nodding, Twilight slumped down in a pout and grumbled, “Nihil sub sole novum.”

“So now, you are just tossing out ideas at random with the hopes that you find something she hasn’t tried yet, so that you can take credit for a new idea.”

“Pretty much, Twinkleshine.” Twilight levitated up a coconut macaroon, studied it for few seconds, and then gave it a ferocious, angry chomp. Not caring that her mouth was full, she expressed her feelings, just blurting everything out. “I know I’m being foalish about this, but I have a burning need to prove myself. Princess Celestia is Princess Celestia… Princess Luna… she does things that I’m not even allowed to know about yet. And Cadance… my ‘contemporary’ fellow princess, she is busy ripping Equestria’s bureaucracy to pieces with my mother and rebuilding it.”

“Being a princess isn’t a contest—”

“Yes it is, Trixie!” Twilight snapped up the remaining bit of macaroon and gave it an angry chew. “I goofed! I messed up! Moondancer got replaced and I somehow failed to notice. Me. The whiny little unicorn that wouldn’t shut up about how Cadance was acting strangely before her wedding. I somehow failed to notice a changeling infiltrator in my own castle. Because of my failure, Sumac, Olive, and Strawberry Hearts were taken! The stupid Queen of the Changelings almost secured a real victory for evil! You know what that is? It’s a sign that I need to step up my game, that’s what that is! Potentially world-ending events happened under my watch.”

Hunched over his chai, Sumac became aware of a dreadful tension and the table had gone quiet. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea that he could be used to end the world, it was a concept that he feared that he would never make peace with. It was the Sorcerer’s Curse, and it was awful.

“Twilight,” Trixie said to her half-sister, “you need to remember, you’ve already stopped the world from ending a couple of times. Together, with all of us, I think we can stop it a few times more. We’re getting rather good at it. We’re becoming rather… great and powerful.”

And with that, the table lapsed into silence once more, as everypony drank their chai.

Author's Note

I was surprised by this chapter, and the sensation of family that it produced.

Chapter 15

Mischief. Mischief was a universal constant; doubly so for young foals experiencing boredom. And so it was for Sumac, who had a quick, intelligent mind as well as having a natural inclination for mischief. Among some ponies, turning to mischief was conceivable, while turning to evil was some vast, nebulous, inconceivable concept. There were those who told their foals that Nightmare Moon had turned to mischief, because it was easier to believe that there was great mischief in the world rather than great evil. After all, Nightmare Moon had been forgiven for her great mischief, had been redeemed, and was Princess Luna once more.

A long day was winding down, turning into a pleasant winter evening. The darkness, arriving early, brought with it fierce wind and cold, but the house was sturdy, and there were plenty of stout, fuzzy bodies to get warm with. A roaring fire burned in the grate, and sparks rose, dancing on whirling eddies of superheated current. It was, as many prairie intellectuals might have noticed, an environment conducive to the study of physics.

It was that dreadful time of the day when little foals went to bed soon, therefore, that meant doing nothing exciting, and thus, facing the great long nothing before bedtime. A camp of sorts had been struck in the living room, which was almost, but not quite, warm. Oh, it wasn’t cold enough to freeze, but the house was old, it hadn’t always been a house, and everything had a tendency to be a little chilly. A blanket became a source of great luxury, along with sweaters, smoking jackets, robes, fuzzy wool hats, or, as mentioned, a warm, consenting body to snuggle.

The great long nothing before bed was wearing down poor Sumac, who had faced far too much boredom lately. Sensation and movement were returning to his body, to his limbs, and was doing so in a manner most rapid. Firelight reflected in his round teashades, and his light, silken mane rustled in the waves of radiant heat that flowed from the fireplace. Beside him, Pebble was being studious and was reading one of the books written by her mother.

As it turned out, Maud wrote in deadpan as well.

With nothing left to do but stare down his own boredom, Sumac shone a spot on the wall, employing ‘spot on the wall’ variety of magic. It was rather mundane, all things considered, and nothing exciting, or so Sumac thought, until Megara reacted. Whiskers quivering, Megara the Lioness seemed to take great offense to the spot on the wall. She rose from her place, her body tense, rigid, and the hairs along her spine rose into a bristling ridge.

The hiss she made was rather scary—it was, indeed, shiver inducing—and she began to stalk the spot on the wall, which Sumac moved. Megara’s head whipped around, reorienting, re-acquiring her target, and Octavia began to snicker from behind the hoof she held up to her lips. What great power had he discovered? Sumac was enthralled by what he witnessed. There was a thump when Maud closed the book she was reading, put it down, and she began to watch Megara.

The spot on the wall zigzagged, and Megara reacted with a yowl. She raised one front paw, hissed again, and waved it at the spot, claws out, extended. What fearsome claws she had, this tiny lioness, this dreadful almost housebroken manticore spawn. Prodding Trixie in the ribs, Lemon Hearts got her attention, and Trixie awoke from her half-slumber with a snort. Now she too, was invested in the unfolding drama of the great hunt.

Sounding posh, Octavia provided some erudite narration. “Here we have the manticore spawn in its native habitat, the family room. See how she hunts her prey, the glowing spot on the wall. Let us observe what she does, shall we?” The dry, witty commentary was lost on most, but Pebble’s lips did quiver for a moment, almost becoming a smile. “Will there be bedlam? Gosh, I hope not.”

Pebble was a weird little filly, and she enjoyed watching Octavia’s narrated butterfly documentaries. Others used them to defeat insomnia.

Slapping the wall with her paw, Megara could not catch the swift-moving spot. She slapped and slapped, her tail twitching with offense, and a look of intense confusion could be seen upon her felinoid-equine face. The spot zoomed off, streaking along the wall, and stopped in another location. With a fierce, indignant yowl, she took off in hot pursuit, off to catch the elusive spot.

Lemon Hearts’ gentle voice could be heard over the crackle of the fire. “Sumac…”

The colt ignored her though, and continued to taunt the terrific hunter with the elusive, ever-moving spot. He was smiling now, almost laughing, and so were most of the adults. Megara moved like a pen creating poetry in fine cursive; she flowed, moving with what could only be described as feline grace. When the spot moved, she was on it in seconds, leaping and bounding over anything in her way.

Of course, things went wrong.

Sumac began to laugh, and his whole body shook, which caused the spot to go crazy. It zigged, it zagged, it shot left, it shot right, and it went all over the room, streaking in random directions. Megara, now unhinged, went right after it. Pebble, the smart one, dropped her book and scrambled for cover, leaving Sumac to his well deserved fate. Bounding away, she lept over the sofa, dove down behind it, and took cover while her new sister rampaged.

Boomer, following Pebble’s example, scurried beneath a chair.

“Die!” Claws out, Megara went for her foe, and her tail looked like a bottle scrub brush.

Twinkleshine let out a panicked cry, stood up on the sofa, and then with an impressive backflip, she joined Pebble in her place of relative safety. Vinyl fell apart, she clutched her sides and shook with silent, wheezing laughter. Octavia appeared quite concerned, and she was ready to defend Vinyl—who was exposed and helpless—should the need arise.

“Megara, behave,” Maud said, and was ignored.

When the spot appeared on the ceiling, Megara took a great, flying leap at it, made a swipe that left deep gashes in the decorative wooden ceiling panels, and then she came crashing down to the floor, almost landing on Sumac, who was now laughing like a lunatic. Lemon Hearts clutched Trixie, both mares were laughing, but this didn’t last long as they had to scramble for cover when Megara came charging in their direction.

“Oh… noodles!” Lemon Hearts swore while she scrambled out of the way.

“Yes, noodles!” Trixie cried as she was hefted up into the air by Lemon and thrown over the back of the sofa. By sheer luck, she had a soft cushion to land upon in her place of cover, as she came down atop Twinkleshine, smooshing her, and then a moment later, Lemon Hearts landed on top of her.

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Lulamoon,” Twinkleshine remarked. “Nice of you to drop in.”

“Stop being so formal, we’re under attack!”

“Oui oui, mon capitaine!”

“There’s no need to weewee, it’s just a little manticore spawn going berserk because of my son!” Trixie sucked in a deep breath, and then shouted, “Sumac! Stop this at once before everything is destroyed!”

Behind the sofa, there was much giggling at all of the mentions of weewee.

The chaos peaked when Tarnish came storming into the room, looking a bit frantic. He paused in the doorway, taking in the whole of the situation, watching as his daughter went tearing around the room, trying to catch a tiny illuminated spot. Ears perking, legs stiffening, his neck extending, Tarnish took charge.

“What is going on in here? I step out to pinch a loaf and come back to this!”

Sumac focused on Tarnish, a terrible mistake. When the colt looked up at Tarnish, who stood in the doorway, the glowing spot stood out in high contrast against Tarnish’s chocolate pelt. There was a strange sound from Maud, a strange sound indeed, something that was almost, but not quite, a snort. Time seemed to stand still, and Megara coiled up, tensing, her tail lashing from side to side.

“Oh bother, it’ll be Sumac that kills me, it just doesn’t seem fair after everything else—OOOF!”

Tarnish never got to finish, because Megara plowed into him, her claws now retracted, trying to catch the ever-elusive spot. She toppled her father, slapping at his neck, trying to smoosh the spot, and when he was on the ground, she stepped on his face while she hunted, trying to find where the spot was now hiding.

“Meow?” Tail swishing, Megara stepped on her father’s face while she circled around, trying to find the hated spot, which had vanished. Confused, bewildered, she flopped over on her side, yowled, and began playing with her father’s mane instead, while also batting at his ears. “Where it go?” she asked her father while she slapped his ears around.

From behind the sofa, Pebble’s voice could be heard. “I think my mother almost laughed…”

“Are you mad?”

Leaning over the bed a bit, Octavia shook her head from side to side. “No, Sumac, I’m not mad. I don’t think anypony is angry.” Using her hoof, she smoothed out the blankets after having tucked the little ones into bed. She liked this—no, she adored this—and she knew that in about a year, she’d be tucking her own little one into bed.

“I got carried away,” Sumac said.

Octavia smiled, the sort of smile that patient earth ponies had. “That happens. No one got hurt, Maud almost laughed, and I think we’ll all cherish this memory as a family.”

Pebble yawned, wiggled around a bit, and snuggled closer to Megara. Octavia watched them, missing her own siblings; she missed her family back in Trottingham, but she had no desire to return there. A tightness manifested in her throat, accompanied by a pang of sadness. Longing as well as regret joined sadness, and Octavia let out a sigh.

“Are we a family?” Sumac asked.

Taken aback by the question, Octavia drew in a deep breath, and thought about the question. It was confusing, it was difficult to define what she and Vinyl shared with Tarnish and Maud, and now, after hearing Sumac’s question, she began to think of all of the things that they had endured together. Sumac’s foalnapping had almost destroyed Trixie, and it had been Tarnish who had stepped in to pick up the pieces, to lift her up, once more Tarnish had rescued Trixie when she was so distraught that not even Lemon Hearts or Twinkleshine could reach her.

“I used to think that I knew what a family was,” Octavia began as she leaned against the edge of the bed. She looked at Boomer, who looked up at her, then at Sumac, then at Pebble, and then at last, she looked at Megara. “I grew up in a very large one. A very traditional, conservative family. I was raised to believe in certain things, and to behave in a certain way. Back then, everything made sense. I didn’t have any great, complicated questions.”

Pebble replied, “But things changed.” It was not a question.

“I no longer know what a family is.” Octavia blinked, sighed, and her tail swished around her hind legs while she chose her next words. “I mean, I do know what a family is, don’t get me wrong, but what defines a family… these bonds we create… I don’t see any logical reason why I can’t love all of you as if you were my own. Why have restrictions? We’re herd animals, I suppose, and it is in our nature to come together.”

“But you do not fit in with the others.”

“No, Pebble, I do not.” After a moment, she added, “It’s a funny thing, when a pony no longer fits in with the greater herd. Perhaps that is what family is… we go off and find some lesser, smaller herd, some herd within the vast herd of equinity that accepts us for who and what we are.”

“Why wouldn’t somepony accept you?” Sumac asked.

“Oh, Sumac, that is very, very complicated, and not a good question to ask just before bed.” Octavia’s brows furrowed while she shook her head, and she clucked her tongue once. She was about to say more, when the door opened and somepony’s hooves clip-clopped against the stone floor. Turning, she saw Lemon Hearts.

“I know I said goodnight already, but I had to come and check in one last time.”

“They’re all safe and sound, Lemon.”

“I know, Octavia, but I… well, you know—”

“You worry.” Octavia’s head bobbed up and down in a prim nod. “We were just talking about family.”

“Oh, that’s complicated just before bed.” Lemon moved closer, her eyes were warm, vibrant, and she came to a stop pressed up against Octavia. “Maybe tomorrow, we’ll get a chance to talk about that. Now, go to bed, it’s getting late for little foals.”

“Sumac, no spots on the wall,” Octavia said.

“No spots, I promise. Not in bed.”

“Good.” There was another prim nod from Octavia. “Good night, you little rascals…”

Author's Note

Laser-guided manticore spawn attack.