When Life Gives You Lemons
Alas, poor Lemon Hearts was shaped a bit too much like her namesake lemon, with her body somewhat narrow at both ends while being entirely too round in the middle. It was distressing to Sumac and caused him no end of worry. She paced the floor of the living room, moving with an exaggerated waddle, her mouth in a tight, puckered ‘o’, and he moved right along behind her, rubbing his chin with his wing while sighing with every step. Both had become the very caricatures of misery, but for different reasons.
“They shouldn’t have left—”
“Sumac…” Even in her condition, Lemon Hearts was the voice of gentleness and patience. “Life goes on. Trixie and Twinkle are nobles and much is expected of them. They had to go to Canterlot to fulfil their duties.”
“But you could pop at any minute—”
“Sumac…” Something about his mother’s voice had changed, something almost imperceptible. “Sumac, I am not a balloon, so don’t be silly. I’m not due for another month, and I’ve had the easiest, most trouble-free pregnancy a mare could ask for. Now, if you please, stop being such a worrywart. Look, I love you, but you are unbearable sometimes. Now back off and give mama some space!”
Obeying his mother, Sumac fell back exactly one pace, but continued to follow after her in her trek across the small, cosy living room. He wasn’t unbearable and that was unfair. Lemon Hearts had to be forgiven for anything she might say in her condition, which no doubt left her cranky. He was attentive, yes, that was it, and he had blown off a day with Pebble and Silver Lining to look after his mother, whom he was certain would pop at any second.
She did, indeed, look like a walking lemon with legs, but Sumac would never say such a thing aloud. When she turned about to walk in the other direction, Sumac stepped aside, allowed her to pass, and then he too, turned to follow after her so they could walk the eleven steps or so required to cross the length of the living room.
“Is this some pegasus thing brought about by your condition—”
“That’s tribalist.” Sumac’s accusation hung in the air like a grand piano suspended on a string and he stopped pacing to adjust his silver wire-framed teashades. Lemon’s words unnerved him though and he began to wonder if he was having some sort of pegasus moment that he didn’t understand. “I’m not the one with a condition, you are, and I’m worried.”
“I’m fine!” His mother snapped and she struggled against her own bowed legs to stand up straight. “Ugh, the cramps are super-bad! My back is killing me! Killing me! And my son won’t leave me alone! He just follows me around the room like a puppy! Like a puppy!” Exasperated, the little sunny yellow mare continued her waddling back and forth across the room.
Guilt wasn’t going to work either and Sumac screwed his resolve to the sticking place.
Lemon Hearts’ whole pregnancy left Sumac with a sort of stupefied wonder. He had found out almost a year go, when the Crystal Empire had been besieged by ice orcs, and once he had found out, it gave him a reason to fight. Though young, he had flexed his powers as a sorcerer and proven himself capable of far, far more than he had believed himself to be.
Princess Celestia had performed some cautious experimentation into animancy, the magic of souls, and a pregnant Lemon Hearts was the end result. Many years ago, Princess Celestia had restored his soul after it had been torn asunder and part of it stolen. A soul in his condition would not heal, but would remain torn, and Princess Celestia had put him back together after some volunteers willingly and with careful consent had offered up some of their own souls.
It was similar to the magic of parenthood, where two parents willingly shared a portion of their own soul to create new life, and those willingly shared parts healed after time. The new life, started from the two tiny fragments of souls merged together, would eventually grow its own soul. From the two tiny fragments of its parents’ souls, the new life would gain magic and other traits. To understand this great mystery was to understand animancy.
But Celestia had gone a step further; Trixie, Twinkleshine, and Lemon Hearts all shared a tiny portion of their own souls, and through powerful magics, Princess Celestia had created new life—with three female parents. Somehow, through means that Sumac did not understand, one of Lemon Hearts’ eggs had been fertilised and made viable—though the end result was female and would physically be a near-perfect copy of Lemon Hearts herself.
It was the greatest sort of science, reckless and unknown, the sort of science Sumac adored.
“Sumac… please… can’t you just go and be with your friends?” Lemon Hearts turned about, lifted her head as high as she could, and if she strained on her hoofsies, she was just able to look Sumac right in the eye. “Just go… please… find a reason to leave. I need some space. Go give Pebble a teenage pregnancy, I won’t mind. At this point, I literally do not care and you could pretty much get away with anything that you wanted. Just… go… away—UGH!”
Much to Sumac’s alarm, his mother bit down on her lip while a shudder shot through her body. The sight of her distress caused every nerve in Sumac’s body to experience a jolt, which left him jittery and out of sorts. It was the stuff of nightmares, the reason why he had stayed, the very reason why he worried without ceasing.
“Aaaah—aaaaaugh—aaaaaaAAAAAAAARGH!” Lemon Hearts closed her eyes, deep furrows appeared upon her forehead, one hind leg stomped against the floor, her tail hiked up high, and then a runny trickle of liquid flowed down upon the rug. “I’M NOT FINE AT ALL!”
Liquid Lemon juice formed a puddle between Lemon’s hind hooves and horrified, Sumac took a few steps back, but his retreat was halted by a tall-backed armchair. Sumac too, felt like screaming, but also like fainting, and a mighty struggle ensued over what was to be done next. His other mothers were in Canterlot. Boomer was with Megara. Alone, with nopony to tell him what to do, Sumac stared down the existential horror that was existence.
“Sumac! Do something!”
“You told me to go away and that everything was fine!”
“Clearly, I was wrong, smartass!”
Spine sagging, Lemon Hearts mewled with pain, tears gushed from her eyes, and then her wobbling knees collapsed. Reaching out with his mind, Sumac grabbed her, and smashing through his panic, he lifted her with his telekinesis. More viscous liquid dribbled down, forming sticky ribbons that clung to Lemon Hearts’ legs. He had kept her from falling down, but had no idea what to do next. Lemon Hearts was always the calm one, the one with the plan, but this Lemon was leaking from both ends and was in no condition to do much of anything.
Sumac did the only reasonable thing he could think of; he fled the house to head for the hospital.
Stumbling through the doorway with his mother floating behind him, Sumac and his uncooperative gangly legs almost caused him to crash into Moondancer, who stood in a pose suggesting that she had been just about to knock. Moondancer winked out of existence and when she appeared a yard away, her lips curled back in horrified, panicked disgust.
“I came over for a surprise visit but when I came up the walk I heard screaming!”
“Lemon’s leaking!” Sumac’s succinct summation summarised the stressful situation.
“I see!” Moondancer began to prance in place, and her oversize glasses fell askew.
“OWIE! OWIE! OWIE! MY CERVIX! THERE’S A HAMMERING ON MY CERVIX!” Lemon Hearts’ exclamation could no doubt be heard throughout the entirety of the neighborhood and more Lemon juice trickled out in a steady stream. “HIYA, MOONIE!”
Recovering his senses, Sumac took off in the direction of Ponyville hospital, which was a fair distance away. Lemon Hearts was shrieking like a siren now, her body spasming and going rigid with pain. Moondancer too, followed, and tried to console her lifelong friend. Other ponies were coming out now, and Sumac could see heads sticking out of doors. Overhead, pegasus ponies circled.
Sumac sensed a spreading panic, and knowing what panic did to common, average ponies, he feared it. Even worse, he was all too aware of his own panic, which thrashed around inside of him and threatened to tear free. Even though he might act like an adult most of the time, it was an act, and Sumac’s maturity was a thin veneer that was easily marred.
He needed Pebble: she had always been the rational one in a crisis. But Pebble was off with Silver Lining, and Sumac was here, with a leaking Lemon and one panicked Moondancer. Drawing a shuddering breath, Sumac tried to compose his thoughts and failed. Every awful thought that lurked in the depths of his mind came out to torment him, reminding him that it was too early for Lemon to foal, that his other mothers were away, and if anything went wrong, he would be held responsible.
The pressure was so much that the cracks in his cool facade began to manifest almost right away.
Overhead, Celestia’s sun shone, the skies were blue, perfect, and birds were chirping. Bees buzzed about, butterflies fluttered past, and a rainbow-maned pony threatened every pane of glass in the city of Ponyville with her very excitable existence. There was a low rumble and every window trembled as Rainbow Dash broke the awesome barrier, but this was not enough, no. After streaking onto the scene, she came to a sudden, perfect stop mere inches from Sumac’s head, and hovered there, her wings flapping while her face contorted in disgust.
“I sensed a panic,” Rainbow Dash said with perfect nonchalant coolness. “Is it just me, or is Lemon leaking?”
In response, a tremendous torrent of liquid squirted out and splashed upon the grass, accompanied by a shrill eardrum-pounding screech of pain. Nearby, a watching mare fainted, and Moondancer let out an alarming “URP!” of queasiness. Sumac, having a foalish moment, turned his pleading gaze upon Rainbow Dash and began a silent plea for help. Panic sent ripples of electric tension coursing up and down Sumac’s spine, and he could feel his own stomach doing flippity-flops, just like the time he had followed Rainbow Dash through too many loops.
“This just keeps happening to you, doesn’t it, Sumac?” Rainbow Dash scratched her head with her hoof and looked down at the panicked colt trudging in the general direction of the hospital. “First in Appleloosa that one time and then every time since. It’s like you cause mares to foal, Sumac. How many times has it been now?”
In denial, Sumac shook his head from side to side, not wanting to believe a word that Rainbow Dash was saying. It wasn’t true—it wasn’t possible—there was no way that he could have that kind of an effect on mares, it was all just a random, dreadful coincidence. And yet… he had remained at Lemon’s side and had steadfastly refused to leave—no, just no. Staying with his mother, Lemon Hearts, was just fortunate circumstance.
Rainbow hovered just ahead, leading Sumac along, Lemon Hearts was levitated behind him, and queasy Moondancer brought up the rear, her cheeks bulging out as she made a desperate attempt to hold everything in. He had to hold it together, because Sumac knew the consequences; the ink did funny things if he lost control of himself. Control became a precarious, precious thing, and Sumac fought to keep it in while he began the long walk to the hospital while carrying a shrieking, writhing, leaking Lemon.
The ink, it seemed, had other plans.
Sumac’s eyes went inkshot and his vision took on a strange cast. The spiral of his horn darkened with flowing ink and the world around him took on a surreal-all-too-real quality. Lemon Hearts’ cries became muted in his ears and colours became oversaturated for his eyes. Around him, houses crumbled and were reassembled as the battles of the past, present, and future played out, awakened by his senses.
The grey streak in Rainbow’s mane became visible—a shameful secret that the proud mare kept hidden with dye. Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, her body enhanced by the mysterious magic of the Grove, had flown so fast and so hard that she had warped time. Rainbow had done more than break the sound barrier—she had flown at the speed of magic, an impossible feat that no mortal mind could comprehend. Sumac didn’t know the circumstances because he had been in the Crystal Empire during the battle for Ponyville.
Sumac didn’t know the circumstances, but he knew the story. Everypony knew the story. During the battle, Rainbow Dash had been left with the agonising choice to save Applejack or save Fluttershy—and the rainbow-maned mare was seen saving both. Faced with an impossible choice, Rainbow Dash had shattered time and space to do the improbable.
Time slowed to a crawl around Sumac; walls rose and fell; windows shattered and reassembled; Twilight’s castle crumbled and then began it’s slow repair; and poor Sumac was drowning in ink, unable to save himself. An army of phantom trees marched around him, powerful defenders called to defend the city by Tarnished Teapot. The White Tail Woods had come to life, and the spooky old trees with faces awoke from their long slumber. Many of them had put down roots in Ponyville; there were many new shade trees to be found around the city, all of which had the love and affection of the ponies of Ponyville.
Sumac had fallen prey to the whims of the ink at the worst possible time, just as he feared, and he struggled to make sense of the fractured reality around him, because Lemon needed him. Swept up by the intensity of the moment, Sumac focused his thoughts on Lemon Hearts, a pony that had generously shared a piece of her soul with him. While his overloaded senses tried to make sense of everything going on, he could hear Rainbow Dash saying his name, or maybe shouting, and it sounded as though he was hearing her voice underwater.
The soul of Lemon Hearts was a precious, treasured thing, and the tiny piece of it that had reconstructed his own shattered soul created a bond—Lemon Hearts was his mother in every way that mattered. But with her soul, just as if he had been her born offspring, Sumac also had a touch of Lemon Hearts’ magic, a tiny piece of what made her Lemon Hearts. Understanding smashed into Sumac’s skull like a dropped heart-shaped anvil and he saw—he knew—the real gift that had come with a sliver of Lemon Hearts’ soul, the real treasure.
The magic of Lemon Hearts was that of family, the unconditional, unquenchable love that she had to offer. Liquid reality seemed to slosh inside of Sumac’s ears and his inkshot eyes blinked behind the green lenses of his wire-framed teashades. This magic was the means, the method, the how and the why of Lemon Hearts, the gentle, loving mare that could sort out any squabble, soothe any hurt, lift any fallen spirit, or even offer a piece of herself to restore one shattered soul.
With this revelation, the ink began to reveal reason. Sumac too, had a touch of this magic, his inheritance from Lemon Hearts, the sunny, lemony yellow mare that was the heart of their family. This magic was a magnet, a compass of sorts—just like any magic attuned its rightful type of situation—and by having this magic, this gift, Sumac would always find himself drawn to situations involving family. This, combined with the ink, would draw him to the beginning of life—or the end of it. Rainbow Dash was still saying his name and he could feel her touch, but it seemed distant, far off, as physical sensation had blurred and sloshed together with metaphysical.
With understanding came calm, with calm came control, and with control, Sumac blinked…
Regular reality asserted itself and dominated the landscape around Sumac. Rainbow Dash was still saying his name, but he ignored her. His gait became purposeful, meaningful, and no more did he stumble. With a tug of his magic, he pulled Lemon Hearts around and his ears pivoted to focus upon the sound of her howling. Gazing into her eyes, he kissed her on the snoot, even though it was not Hearth Warming, the traditional time of the year when Sumac embarrassed himself by kissing his mothers, but it was a birthday.
Startled, his lemony yellow mother went quiet for a span of seconds and her teary eyes glimmered with emotion, with so much love that it caused Sumac’s own vision to blur over again. Then, Lemon Hearts mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and afterwards, her howling began anew.
“My best friend’s insides are leaking out all over the place!” Moondancer shouted while she picked up her pace to close the distance between her and the floating yellow unicorn.
A pony was the sum of many tiny parts that made a satisfying whole. Sumac now had a better understanding of his parts, what made him who and what he was. Perhaps because he was in control of his senses again, Rainbow Dash had stopped shouting his name and now led him along, her wings flapping in near silence while she hovered just ahead.
Ready or not, life was changing, and Sumac knew that he was about to become a big brother—to a pony.
Hesitating, Sumac looked upon the hot, sweaty, disheveled mess that was his mother, while also trying to avert his eyes. Lemon Hearts lay stomach-down upon a birthing bench with her head propped up on a cushioned rest and her hind legs strapped to a low-hanging assembly. The birthing bench appeared to be mighty uncomfortable, and it left poor Lemon Hearts with her rump up in the air, exposed and vulnerable.
So far, he had been asked to leave the room six times, and for each of those six times, he had refused. The sixth time had been the last however, because Sumac had suggested that it would be fine if he stayed, and that he would remain on his best behaviour. The maternity nurse had agreed. These were special times, and as such, he played by special rules.
Moondancer stood near where Lemon’s head rested, stroking her friend while trying to console her, and Rainbow Dash stood in the corner, out of the way. The soft sound of Moondancer’s muted, somewhat nasal voice was comforting, and Sumac needed comforting because he had just witnessed a long silvery probe vanish up his mother’s backside.
Lemon Hearts had whined about it being cold.
Perhaps foolishly, Moondancer held out one hoof to her foalhood friend, and Sumac winced when Lemon reached out for it. Too late, Moondancer understood the folly of her actions and Sumac watched as Lemon seized it with a vice-like grip. Rainbow Dash chuckled in her corner, and the nurse rolled her eyes while shaking her head at the brazen stupidity on display. Moondancer howled, Lemon let out a shriek while a contraction wracked her body, and Sumac’s ears rang from the assault of sound.
The air had the acrid reek of disinfectants, the stink of sweat, as well as the unpleasant tang of Lemon juice, which continued its constant-but-slow steady trickle. Sumac turned away while the nurse continued her probing, and he listened to Moondancer’s frenzied, frantic pleas for Lemon to let go. But Lemon did not let go and only redoubled her grip while the nurse’s probing made spine tingling squelching sounds.
“This is going to be a fast birth,” the nurse said while she cast a glance at the beeping machinery.
“It’s too—OW—soon for the—OWIE—birth to—OW, GOSH LEMON, REALLY—happen.” Moondancer peered over the top of Lemon Hearts’ head, down the length of her spine, and over the curve of Lemon’s propped up rump at the nurse. “She’s not due for—NO, LEMON, I HAVE TO WALK ON THAT—another month.”
“It’s like I have something sharp stabbing me in the cervix!” Lemon’s hind legs tried to buck outwards, but the straps held and the whole birthing bench shimmied while she continued to squirm.
“You have a horn stabbing you in the cervix,” the nurse replied and she gave Lemon Hearts a gentle, reassuring pat on the cutie mark. “Usually, the horn is a little softer and stubbier, but this one is unusually well developed in utero.”
“Foal can’t come out,” Lemon panted and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Too soon. Too early. No. Bad little Lemon.”
“Well…” the nurse began, “near as I can tell, she’s tiny, but well developed and has a very strong and healthy heartbeat. She’s ready to come out. This bun is done and it’s coming out of the oven very, very soon—”
“OHMYGOSHLEMONWHATAREYOUDOINGTOMYFETLOCKSTOPTHAT!”
Rainbow Dash’s inopportune giggling caused Sumac to smile, but only for a moment, and then he got rid of the evidence so he wouldn’t be grounded for life later. The nurse pulled the probe out with a wet slurp and then, seconds after, Sumac noticed the coppery scent of blood in the air. He sniffed, worried, and when he glanced at the nurse, he saw that she didn’t appear concerned in the slightest.
“Sumac, do something—”
“Mother, what do I do?” Sumac asked and he almost took a step closer, but then thought better of it. She might grab him if she had the chance, and that might hurt a bit.
“Just do something!”
There was nothing that he could do and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he could even save Moondancer, not without great personal risk to himself. No, Moondancer, as much as he loved her, as much as he valued her friendship, she was on her own. Lemon let out a pitiful whimper and her hind legs strained against their restraints.
“Where is the doctor?” Sumac asked as the first stirrings of alarm caused his eyebrow to raise.
“In Canterlot,” the nurse replied, and her calm voice did nothing to reassure Sumac. “I’m not just a nurse, I’m also a midwife. If I get in trouble, I’ll whistle and one of the general practitioners will come running. Mrs. Hearts, if I could get you to start breathing a little bit, that’d be great—”
“TELLHERTOLETGO!”
When Sumac heard a wet sucking sound, his head jerked around to have a look, which he regretted right away. He saw something bluish protruding from his mother’s hindquarters that had an oily rainbow shimmer to it, and there was a lot of blood. Sumac, in his short life, had seen a lot of blood, some of it his own, and while he was fine with blood in general, he was not fine with seeing his mother’s blood. Weakness overcame his legs, his knees wobbled, and for a moment that lasted far too long, he felt faint.
Lemon Poppyseed Lulamoon was on the way. Sumac steeled himself, jerked his head away, and stared at the supplies cabinet mounted on the wall. A profound sense of regret overcame him, and he knew that both Trixie and Twinkleshine would be upset that they had missed this. Lemon Hearts had bit down upon a fold of Moondancer’s sweater, and with the way Moondancer was screaming, Sumac couldn’t tell if Lemon was biting a bit of flesh as well.
Was this too soon? Too early? Sumac worried a bit, but the nurse seemed trustworthy. All of this was happening so fast—too fast—and poor Lemon hadn’t even been dulled to the pain, just strapped down on a birthing bench. Squinting, his whole body scrunching in anxious dread, Sumac made himself look at the gruesome sight of his sister emerging from his mother’s bloody backside. Everything was stretched out, distorted, it was both horrifying and marvellous that the equine body was capable of such a feat.
One slimy leg poked free from the slimy satchel of birth, but was so bloody and covered in goo that Sumac couldn’t see what colour it was. His mouth went dry, his stomach heaved, and for a moment, he was absolutely certain that his breakfast was going to splatter all over the gleaming white sanitary tiles.
Someday, in the not-too-distant future, Pebble would endure this disgusting nightmare of blood and agony—and it would be his fault. There was a good chance that Silver Lining would as well, but she laid eggs. Big eggs. Rainbow Dash, being the very best sort of friend that a colt Sumac’s age could ask for, had taken him to visit a griffon friend that had just laid an egg. No amount of apologising could make up for this sort of injury, and Sumac felt a genuine sort of guiltiness about the whole thing.
He was fortunate though—lucky—in that he had something that most colts his age didn’t have: awareness. Sumac was all too aware of the consequences of his actions and every time things got heated with Pebble or Silver Lining, he thought about the final outcome before things went too far. A squishy wet slurp drew him from his thoughts and he shuddered at the sound.
“Oh my, she’s tinier than I thought!”
A wavering wail rent the air, a new voice that Sumac did not recognise. It was tiny, shrill, and had incredible volume. Forcing himself to pony up, Sumac made himself look at the bloody lump that the nurse was holding in a cloth stained scarlet. Frustrated, he couldn’t see anything that he could make sense of and he was so focused on trying to make sense of what he saw that he hardly noticed his mother’s agonised whimpers. It was all part of a moment, and the moment just sort of melded together, overwhelming his senses.
“Wow, those are some healthy little lungs, will you listen to that.”
Sumac did listen to the new voice and he stood sweating, but also shivering, feeling too hot and too cold at the same time. His mother’s legs were now limp in their restraints and her body was slack on the birthing bench. Turning his body about, he closed the distance between himself and the nurse, lowered his head, and with a concerned chuff, he tried to have a better look at his new sister, who shrieked about her sudden emergence into the light.
The only thing that Sumac could notice, the only thing that stood out, was that her horn seemed to be a bit out of proportion. Trixie had a longer than average horn, bigger and thicker too. Reaching out with his magic, he pulled back a crimson-saturated corner of the cloth, and he saw his newborn sister’s messy face. A wet woosh came from his mother’s backside, and then Sumac was struck by a warm, moist wind while messy clots of afterbirth dribbled down from the sundered crack less than a foot away from his ear.
“Cut this,” the nurse said while she held up a clamped cord and a pair of shiny steel snips. “Right next to the clamp, if you don’t mind. Don’t be shy. Most ponies can’t stand the sight of blood but you seem to be doing okay.”
“Okay.” Sumac took the snips into the glittery green glow of his magic, opened them, slipped the cord in between the two sharp edges, and then he snipped. Blood and fluid oozed from the fresh cut and it was then that he realised that his baby sister was no longer connected to her mother. He had severed that sacred connection, and he had no idea how he should feel about it.
When he looked up at the nurse, he saw Rainbow Dash standing just behind, her face solemn, thoughtful, and Sumac’s vision began to blur over just a bit. The nurse was smiling, but Rainbow was not, the pegasus mare’s jovial ever-present grin had departed. Perhaps it had gone south. With cold metal, he had forever severed his sister from his mother and this thought was heavy in his mind.
It was sobering, though he could not say why.
Ears pricking, pivoting, rotating about, Sumac realised that the room had gone mostly quiet. His mother was panting and whimpering only a little. Moondancer’s heavy breathing could be heard, but otherwise, she was silent. The machines made machine noises and for a moment, the near-silence was so profound that Sumac could hear his heart beating inside of his ears. Even little Lemon Poppyseed made nary a peep, and this realisation startled him.
She was looking right at him, or trying to do so, but her little eyes were still rather gunky. Why was she quiet? The movement of her breathing was reassuring, but Sumac decided that it wasn’t enough and he wanted to hear something from her again—anything. The snips clattered to the floor, sending droplets of blood splattering across the tiles.
“Okay,” the nurse said in a soft whisper, “never seen this before. This is new.”
With a sudden burst of magic, Sumac pulled his sister from the nurse’s telekinetic bonds and her gaze never wavered. She blinked a few times, wiggled a bit, and slimy afterbirth dribbled down her horn. Lemon Poppyseed was tiny, but other than that, seemed okay. She coughed a bit, hacked up a bloody wad of phlegm, and this oozed down her chin leaving behind a bloody, snotty streak on her already messy face.
“Happy birthday,” Sumac whispered, and he watched his sisters ears fidget at the sound of his voice. “Let’s get you with your—no, our mother.”
The sun sent golden beams slanting through the broad window, bathing the bed in Celestia’s wholesome light. In the bed, Lemon Hearts was half awake, her head resting on a pile of pillows, and her body was covered with a light bedspread. Her left foreleg was propped up on a pillow and gleaming white tape covered the spot where intravenous fluids were being piped in, because Lemon Hearts had lost more than a little blood.
Moondancer sat on a chair in the corner of the room, nursing her swollen fetlock, which was covered in an ice pack. Her tear-stained face told a story of pain, but her smile was evidence of joy. Rainbow Dash stood beside the chair, looking plucky and proud. Sumac stood guard by the bed, remaining close, attentive to his mother’s every need, and mindful of the lump that lurked beneath the bedspread.
It had all happened so fast and then was over so quickly. Now, Sumac was sorting out the aftermath. He wished that Boomer was here, as well as his other mothers, but especially Boomer, so they could bond as siblings. When his mother moaned, Sumac went rigid for a moment, stared at her face, wondering if she needed something, only to relax when she shifted in bed and closed her eyes.
“Mother, are you okay?” Sumac asked in a low whisper. How many times had he asked this question? He had lost count, but he would keep asking, no doubt.
This time, his mother had a different answer: “My hind legs keep cramping, my back feels broken, and my butt feels like it has a horrible toothache. I’m not okay, Sumac. I’m not okay at all.”
Unable to convey a sophisticated well-articulated response, Sumac whimpered.
“I wanna be mad at somepony, Sumac. I get it now. Before, I could never understand why mares yelled and hollered at their husbands. But who do I yell at? It’s confusing. Princess Celestia? I have all of this pain and nopony to take it out on.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Moondancer muttered while she clutched her injured foreleg to her barrel. “I’m pretty sure that for a moment there, I became your husband, and never again shall we be parted.”
Lemon Hearts let out a weak laugh, and so did Moondancer, and though Sumac expected a chuckle or a laugh from Rainbow Dash, the pegasus mare remained silent, solemn, and no mirth seemed forthcoming. From beneath the blanket, the sounds of suckling continued and Sumac’s ears pivoted around to hear it better.
His mother’s eyes fluttered open, and Sumac leaned over, eager to peer into them. They were dull, unfocused, and his mother’s pupils couldn’t decide which size they wished to be. The leg propped up on the pillow twitched a bit, and there was a soft rustle of fuzz against fabric. Sumac was now so tense with waiting for his mother to say something that his back was cramping.
“Sumac, I did this for you. Well, Trixie too, and Twinkleshine, and Boomer, and all of us really, but I wanted you to be happy. In some ways, I think the miscarriages hit you the hardest. Trixie always bounced back from them when they happened, and while she was sad for a time, it passed. But you… you dwelled on them and I figured out what the apple trees you planted in the backyard meant. I don’t think that Trixie or Twinkle caught on.”
Sumac’s vision fuzzed over and his mother became so blurry that he couldn’t see her at all, just some smears of colour. The yellow of her pelt, the white of the bedspread, the light blue of her mane. The sting of tears threatened to melt the whole of his face. It hurt—a lot—and it felt like molten metal was being poured into his sinuses.
“Yeah, Kiddo…”—Hearing his mother call him that almost broke Sumac— “right now, with what I’m seeing, I think it hit you the hardest.”
Lips trembling, Sumac tried to breathe and had a hard time doing so, because his face was melting. At some point in the past, his mother, Trixie, had suffered some horrible infection and a high fever. Though it was only speculation, this was the suspected cause of her fertility issues. He remembered that day, he remembered that doctor’s visit, and most curious of all, afterwards, Trixie had ran to Tarnish of all ponies, and she had cried with him. Sumac didn’t know the story, but he was certain that Tarnish did.
His family had weird, blurry boundaries sometimes, but that was okay, because family didn’t have to make sense for it to have meaning.
“Tell me, Sumac, are you happy?” Lemon Hearts asked, her voice as creaky as an unoiled door hinge.
Summoning all of his courage, he nodded, and Sumac made himself smile through the pain somehow, even though it made his face ache all the more. Blinking away tears, he swallowed, but the dreadful lump in his throat persisted. His mother was waiting and when he heard her sniffling, it almost sundered the floodgates of his face. Straining, struggling, he could not get his eyes to focus and he could feel mucus dribbling down the back of his throat from his sinuses.
“I’m the happiest colt in the world,” Sumac somehow managed to say, “because life has given me Lemons…”
Author's Note
Just one and done.
