Twilight Sparkle and the Stupid Original Pony

After a morning meal of pancakes and hayple syrup, Gloam and I set out to visit Ponyville and burn some calories from the towering stacks of breakfast disks we had consumed. Twilight was still busy with her homework: it would take her days to write, ‘I will not doubt my teacher,’ ten thousand times without using magic.

“Good morning, Geris, Angeny,” I greeted the guards on sentry duty at the drawbridge. As per official procedure, they stood almost as still as stone, but Angeny slightly cocked one ear slightly in friendly reply.

“Why don’t they say anything, Mom?”

“It’s required when they are on guard duty. They must remain silent and alert. Sleeping with their eyes open while standing at attention is strictly forbidden.”

“Can I make faces at them?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. They protect us, you should show some respect.”

“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Geris from the corner of his mouth, “it’s a time honored tradition for foals to make faces at the sentries. If we can’t maintain our composure, it’s on us.”

“I stand corrected.”

I smiled, thinking of what was coming next. No doubt they thought themselves too well trained to fear my filly’s antics.

“Gloam, that was your cue.”

“Do your worst, Lady Gloam.” Angeny said.

Both ponies drew themselves to even more rigid attention, steeling their demeanor to absolute implacability and like statues of unfeeling granite they stood immobile for all of three minutes before they cracked. By the time the garrison commander, Captain Armitage, arrived Geris was rolling on the ground and Angeny was leaning on the wall, laughing so hard her eyes were full of tears.

“What is going on here?” the captain demanded.

“By the Princesses, sir,” Geris said as he heaved himself upright, “Lady Gloam is killing us.”

Gloam had ended her routine as soon as Armitage arrived and now stood as placid as a Buddha.

“You’re going to be a pair of dead grade zeroes after failing to maintain your watch.”

“With respect, Captain, I’ve relieved them.” I fixed a hard stare on the horizon and scanned again for enemies. “The watch is uninterrupted.”

Armitage pondered silently for a moment. “Corporal,” he said thoughtfully, “and Private, relieve Mister Sparkle and continue your shift. You’ve both got a month of kitchen duty, but nopony’s getting busted down. And I better not hear either of you so much as farting on watch without written pre-authorization in triplicate.”

“Is a month of peeling spuds extreme, sir?” I asked.

“In the Roamin Empire, long before the Stellar Dynasty, they could execute a sentry for losing his cool on duty. I think K.P. is not so bad. Soldiers?”

“Sir!” they bellowed, “yes, sir!”

“It’s my fault, Captain,” said Gloam, “I should have gone easy on them.”

“I’ll tell you what, my lady, when you’re in Canterlot next, see if you can work your routine on some of the soldiers from Lila Hasten’s command. Her unit does guard duty for the princesses at Canterlot Castle. If you pull that off, I’ll give these two jokers a break.”

—

After crossing the drawbridge, we turned towards Ponyville but instead of the most direct route, I lead Gloam by way of the winding road which brought us to the top of the hill where Twilight had first brought me to Equestria.

My daughter drank in the view.

“Wow,” she said. “I don’t even want to remember where we used to live. This is a billion percent times better.”

“It is,” I agreed. “This is where Mommy got his first look at Equestria, up here on this hill.”

“Was it just like you imagined?”

“Much, much, better,” I said and started to point out the lay of the land. “So, you can see the road past the castle down there; one way leads to Ponyville, the other leads out to the crossroads, out of sight from here. The Ponyville road crosses the river at newbridge, but we’ll take the old high bridge today. That’s just the edge of town proper—” I gestured accordingly “—there beyond the river. The old road will join the Ponyville Road on the far shore, and take us right into downtown Ponyville where it turns into Mane Street. Most of the residential neighborhoods are on the far side of downtown, and the suburbs beyond that. The industrial district stretches along the river, around the bend, between the docks and the train tracks.”

“So let’s go!” Gloam exclaimed, and we did.

After the high bridge, and joining up with the Ponyville Road, the countryside gave way to city and soon we were on the largest avenue.

The weather had improved since yesterday, and even if it was cool, the rain had stopped and the clouds were breaking up. Ponies were out and about in town and I happily exchanged greetings and nods of acknowledgment with those I passed. I didn’t see anypony I knew by name, but surely I would eventually do so.

Having spent her childhood until this week in the big city, Gloam knew not to gawk, but she clearly wanted to look at everything, to touch everything. I walked slow enough that she could get a good look around without staring.

“Don’t even look at the bakery,” I said. “Honey is a good pony, but if Pinkie catches one of her regulars ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ there’ll be trouble.”

“Got it. Disguise?”

“That’s how I do it. Your father is phobic about quesadillas, so if you want to try Casa Quesa sometime, don’t ask her, but I’d be willing. This is Fleet Street—” a signpost on the corner backed up my assertion “—Rarity’s shop is just down that way.”

The next street was Apple Street, which I explained was, “named in honor of local agriculture and outside of town it turns into Appleranch Road and leads right to Applejack’s place. Hardware store on the corner, there’s the Rose Park, where—”

“Dragon!” shouted Gloam suddenly, pulling away from me and breaking into a gallop.

Spike was enjoying the pale winter sunlight with Spike Jr, when Gloam’s cry rang out, followed by the sound of her speeding hooves.

Thundering along the street, she raised her voice, “Let’s get it!”

He leapt into the air as Gloam jumped after him, snapping her teeth at his heels.

Holding his son close, Spike flew up to the street lamp and perched at the top.

“Tangent, uh, what’s going on, my pone?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“Down, Gloam!” I shouted as she jumped again.

“I’ve never had a pony try to eat me before!”

“This is my daughter Gloam, Spike. She, uh, knows about your heart.”

“My heart?”

“She found out about the magical uses of a dragon’s heart.”

“Those are just old mares tales, it won’t really make you understand animals.”

“Those old mares are very well attested to, Spike.”

“Okay, it’s true, it’s true, but don’t expect me to cooperate!”

“I won’t let her hurt you. Y’hear me, Gloam, you may not attack Spike.”

“But, ma.”

“I’m serious, filly.”

The dragon looked skeptically down at the little filly.

“You promise not to eat me?”

“Not even your heart,” she grumped.

Spike hopped off of the lamppost and lit down to the ground, refolding his wings as he touched down.

Now that she could see Spike Jr., Gloam was enchanted.

“Oh, what a cutie!” she cooed. “Would you work for my spell, little guy?”

“Gloam!” I chided as Spike held Spike Jr. closer to himself.

“I ask merely for information.”

“If somepony asked ‘merely for information’ how you would taste cooked into an Irish Stew, do you think I would appreciate their humor?”

“No,” she had to admit.

“And I expect you to be respectful of others’ children. Nocreature wants to wonder if a threat to their offspring is real or not.”

“I’m sorry, Spike, and little Spike. I promise I won’t eat the neighbors, Ma.”

“Gloam, they’re not just the neighbors. Spike here is your father’s adopted son; that makes him your step-brother. So don’t even joke about eating Spike Junior, he’s family!”

“I have a brother?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so!” Spike said. Clearly the idea was novel to him too. “Of course, if you wanna be magical about it, Mom is more than just a step-mom to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! In the show all she did was hatch your egg.”

“Show? Whatchew talking about? Yes, she hatched me, but there wasn’t even anything alive in that egg until she poured her magic into it. That’s why no previous candidate had been able to hatch the egg, it was infertile. Who I am is a result of her, just like you are probably kinda like your dad and kinda like your mom.”

“Woah. How’s the biology of all that work?”

“I dunno details, that’s not my field. As best I understand it, when the dragoness who would have been my mother laid an egg, it contained some of my father’s essence, but none of hers. When Mom’s magic spiked (like my name, hah!) and triggered the rainboom and all kinds of magic stuff all over Equestria, it also magically transferred some of her, er, reproductive essence into the egg and here I am.”

He gave a half-bow, careful not to disturb the infant in his arms.

“That is so bucking cool,” I said. “I didn’t know about any of that.”

“Buck, yeah!” interjected Gloam, thinking she would get away with the cuss, which would actually come home to roost later. “So a dragon laid your egg and my dad made it fertile?”

“Well sure, uh, sis. You don’t really think your dad laid an egg do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Spike and I laughed at this jaded observation.

“Legally, of course, she’s just my step-mom, because it took a while to figure out the whole deal with the egg and I was already adopted by that point and there wasn’t really any point in trying to do a bunch more paperwork to un-adopt me and get me recognized as her actual child. But we all know the truth and that’s good enough. I do sorta wish I had gotten the Sparkle family name when she adopted me, but she was just a filly and decided to call me Spike The Dragon. What kind of last name is ‘The Dragon’?”

“I think it’s catchy,” I said. “But then again, Spike Sparkle has some nice alliteration going on.”

“Spike, Sparkle, Spykle!” shouted Gloam, changing the vowel to a Wye to make it edgier.

“Ugh, no, please,” the subject of the spontaneous sobriquet supplicated. “I don’t want to be called that.”

“Not even by your adorable little sister?”

“Uh… uh…” Spike was nearly helpless in the face of Gloam’s charm attack. “I…”

“If you hate it so much,” Gloam said, “that word will never cross my lips again. You are too important of an ally to squander your good will just for the pleasure of bugging you. I’m sure I can find other ways to do that.”

“Thank you, I think. So, were you really saying that my mother is Gloam’s father? I can believe it.”

“Yep.”

“How did— no, no, no. I’m not even going to ask. Only my Mom. So you must be Gloam’s mother, Tangent. I’m still not asking how that happens. It’s good to meet you, sister.”

Gloam solemnly shook his claw, then burst into a scamper, circling Spike and Spike Jr. shouting out, “Whee! I have a big brother now! Can you take me to the park when Mom and Dad are too busy? Can you buy me some smokes?”

“Big brother is grown up and married, but maybe you can come foal sit if you don’t alarm Rarity with talk of eating dragons.”

“My sitting rates are hella high.”

“Well, I don’t know about—”

“What about timberwolves?”

“Huh?”

“I’d demolish them like I did Canterlot Castle.”

“She only blew up one wall and some terrorists,” I assured Spike, “not the whole castle.”

“I heard there was an explosion at the castle, I didn’t know it was a little filly who was responsible.”

“Trust me, Spike, she’s not as little as she looks in real life.”

“You’re scaring me, dude. I knew Twilight was frantic to get you back to Equestria, Tangent. I didn’t know she had a foal with you!”

“Neither did she until just a few days ago.”

“Did she faint?”

“Almost. And I was ready to catch her.”

“So there must be some kind of chronological aberration with your world?”

“My old world,” I corrected him. “This is my home now. It’s been nine years since I left Ponyville, while I guess its been about two months here. I call the phenomena a timeslip. Nopony has told me I’m wrong, yet.”

“Timeslip. That sounds like an effective description; if there’s a better word for it, Glim would know; you should meet her.”

Before I could explain that I had met Starlight Glimmer but not had the chance to delve into time terminology with her, another pony approached.

“Any trouble, Mister The Dragon?”

It was Constable Conrad Copper.

“No trouble, sir, everything’s fine,” Spike said.

“There was report that you might have been attacked,” the cop said in his best officially neutral but disapproving voice.

“My little sister was a bit enthusiastic. No harm done.” Spike smiled and put a hand on Gloam’s shoulder; she turned on the charm on cue.

“I wasn’t aware that you had a sister.” A very charming sister; he was visibly easing up his strict tone. “Mister Akos, can you vouch for the miss here?”

“That’s Mister Sparkle, now, Conrad. My husband the Princess has made me an honest stallion and this is our daughter, Lady Gloam Jet Sparkle.”

“Hmm, Gloam Jet Sparkle,” he said, taking careful note of her appearance. “Mark: an accelerating six point star like her father’s. Is the ‘Lady’ a courtesy title?

“So far, yes,” I said.

“What’s that mean, Mom?” she asked.

“It means that you are styled Lady because your father is a princess. Once you acquire some peerages of your own, you will have your own titles.”

“Got it. I’ll get to work.”

I nodded solemnly to her.

For a moment the adults stared at me and Gloam as if we were crazy.

“Very well, good day to you sirs, and welcome to Ponyville my lady.”

The constable bowed quite properly as he took his leave.

“Anyway,” Spike said, “I’m glad you’re back, pone. Twilight won’t tell you this, but she was a mess while you were gone.”

“Anything I need to know?”

“Nothing to worry about. Just take good care of my Mom, try to keep her out of trouble.” Spike looked down on me with warmth and approval.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You and me, buddy,” he said, “belong to a very exclusive fraternity. Individuals who have done time travel, the long way, for love.”

“I guess so.”

“Yeah, bro. I’m sure it was rough, but worth it, am I right or am-I-right? Time for me and the little guy to head on home.”

“Good to see you, buddy. Gloam, I want you to promise Spike that you aren’t going to eat any dragon!”

“Mommmm,” Gloam whined at me, “aren’t there any evil dragons in this world? I promise to only eat evil dragons.”

“Well, uhh…” Spike didn’t want to admit it.

“Technically, yes there are. Spike, you know it’s true.”

“Okay, little sis, if I hear about any dragons so evil that they are fair game for you, I will let you know. You think she can handle a dragon hunt, Tangent?”

“Cry havoc and let slip the fillies of war,” I said.

“Rrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

Spike chuckled as Gloam growled and looked fierce.

“Honestly, if I do learn of any dragon outlaws, I’m going to want to take them down before they can damage the relationship between our species. Some of those jerks are just embarrassing.”

“Just like I would be embarrassed by a pony who indiscriminately devoured innocent dragons, ahem, ahem.”

“I get it, Ma.”

As the Spikes headed back towards their home, I continued showing Gloam around. We walked past a couple of department stores and then Town Hall. I waved at Mayor Mare, but

“And this,” I said, “Is Sugarcube Corner, where—”

The door swung closed and I was left out on the street where Mr. Cake was receiving a shipment of baking supplies.

“Give you a hoof with that, sir?” I asked as the delivery pony trotted away.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that, mister… uh? We never got introduced when you were in town the other month.”

“Sparkle,” I said, to his clear surprise. “The Princess is now my husband and the filly who just abandoned her mother on the street is our daughter.”

Instead of explaining further, I grabbed a couple large bags of cake flour and followed him ‘round to the back entrance of the bakery.

“Say,” he asked, “that infernal concoction of Pinkie’s didn’t do you or the Princess any harm, did it?”

It had been one helluva an experience – as best I remembered we hadn’t gotten too badly out of control before reaching the privacy of her rooms in Twilight’s castle.

“None at all, we enjoyed it very much.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m an old fashioned pony, sir, and I bake old fashioned. I don’t have any truck mixing baking and magic.”

Mr. Cake led me through the bakery to the front where I might find my daughter.

“HeyMatheygotreallygoodstuffherecanwecomehereeveryday—” she didn’t even finish her all-run-together-without-hyphens question before she was off again and out the door.

Pinkie attempted to hide an empty super jumbo double demitasse, but her cheese eating grin said it all.

Without a word I raised a hoof to my gimlet eye and then pointed at her. Then I was after Gloam.

—

Catching up with my daughter, I decided that the best solution for this power surge would be to let her burn it off. We were heading out of town on the Forest Road and she could run until she was ready to stop.

By the time we reached Zecora’s home in the Everfree, she was slowing as the caffeine and sugar buzz faded.

“We missed them,” I said when I saw the hollow tree home carefully closed up for an extended absence.

“Where’d they go?”

“Zecora went to her homeland, Zebronica, and took Ishaz along with her. Still feeling jittery?”

“I’m shaky and really tired.”

“Okay, let’s head home. Try to make it that far.”

Together, we turned back towards the edge of the forest.

“Why is Isha a boy now?” Gloam asked as we walked along.

“I don’t know. Magic does weird stuff, sometimes. Or maybe Aphrodite had some part in the change. But I think he’s pretty happy.”

“Is he doing the grownup thing with Zecora?”

“That’s none of our business, sweetie, m’kay?”

But I hoped they were. If anybody deserved a happy ending it was my friend Ishaz.

—

By the time we reached the edge of the Everfree, Gloam was plodding along beside me, half asleep on her hooves. Urging her to stay awake a little longer, I led her to Fluttershy’s cottage and knocked at the door.

“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy said when she saw us, “Mrs. Otter has been really nervous, we’ll wait a few more days before visiting the babies.”

Gloam was leaning against me, eyes closed.

“Actually, we were wondering if Gloamie could take a little nap on your sofa. Pinks fed her an espresso—”

“Quad,” Gloam mumbled without opening her eyes.

“—and she’s crashing hard now.”

“Oh, dear, I don’t really know a thing about foals. Now if she was a critter what I would do—”

“You’ll hardly notice her. And I can help with the animals to say thanks.”

Gloam didn’t wait for an invitation, she shambled past Fluttershy and collapsed on her sofa.

“Welp! Got any animal chores for me to do in the mean time?”

“No-o-o-o,” she lied transparently, “I’m all caught up at the moment. Maybe you’d like a cup of tea while she rests.”

“Thank you, I’d love that. Can I help with the tea things?”

Soon we were sipping at cups of herbal tea, made from herbs Fluttershy had gathered in the nearby forest. I paid especial note to the herb that had gone into my cup but not hers. It wasn’t long before the probing questions started.

“Now what’s this I hear,” she asked after a brief spell of small talk, “about a little thing between you and that nice Ishaz stallion?”

That caught me off guard, and I don’t think it was just the effects of the herbs. I was positive that Discord wouldn’t allow Fluttershy to interrogate Ishaz, so somehow she must have gotten her hooves onto Ish’ without Discord nearby to run interference. I mean, if she wanted to know about my relationship with Ishaz, it wasn’t really a big deal, was it? It was a pleasant afternoon and there was plenty of time to relax and talk about the good times I had had on Terra and Gallop with a lovely priestess.

But I had already settled on what I would say first. It seemed unnecessary now, but I had felt strongly about it when I was composing the words and I might as well follow through with whatever I had in mind just a moment ago.

It seemed kinda fuzzy, but, “well, Miss ‘Shy, I can tell you exactly one thing…”

Fluttershy was still too mortified to do more than squeak a sub-audible goodbye when Gloam and I left a little later.

The door was slammed and bolted behind us and I doubt she noticed that we turned back towards the forest instead of town.

—

“What’s this?”

I lay a green stem with a half dozen leaves before Twilight, on her writing desk. It hadn’t been easy to find.

“Er, that’d be blandwort. It’s not toxic, but it can lower a pony’s inhibitions if consumed, even in small amounts. Almost flavorless too, hence the name. It’s considered a pernicious weed due to the abuse potential, so if there’s any more where you found this, you should kill it.”

“I found a small patch, it looked well tended.”

“Ugh. Report it to the Royal extension agent (she has an office at city hall) and she’ll sterilize the entire patch and monitor the area for future sprouts. Any idea who’s growing it?”

I would report it as instructed, but might fail to mention the bunch of it now hanging to dry in my secret room.

“I have a pretty good idea. Fluttershy fed me some in a cup of tea and tried to question me about Ishaz. She seemed to already know something of our past.”

“Ugh,” she repeated. “She’s not a bad pony, but this is what comes from being so damn quiet. She wants to know everything about other ponies and isn’t good at just making friendly conversation, instead she knows how to weasel the truth out of them one way or another. Do you know about the time she attended a assertiveness seminar?”

“Maybe? How’d it go in real Equestria?”

“Before it was over, the nation’s top motivational speaker had sworn out a no-contact order against ‘Shy, and sued her to recover fees when an entire class demanded refunds, using his own assertiveness techniques.”

“Dang, it must have been bad!”

And another instance where the cartoon was wrong.

“She made him cry, on stage,” Twilight elaborated.

“Poor Iron Will.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “He’s a con-creature and a small time fraud. But, Ceesh, she was outta control. So, how much did you tell her? I know you loved Isha, I assume you still dolove Ishaz, and I’m not threatened by it. But if it ends up in the Gabby Gums column—” Twilight shook her head “—I don’t need that shade.”

“I told her in no uncertain terms that Gloam, Ishaz, and I are all under your Royal Aegis and are not to be interfered with.”

“Oo. Nicely done, my colt! How’d she react to that?”

“She peed herself.”

Twilight gave a long chuckle of transgressive amusement.

“Not just a little ‘oopsie’,” I explained. “She stared at me in slack jawed numb horror and drained her bladder. I ate a cookie as it ran across the floor.”

“I love my team,” she said, “you know I do. Not the way you love Ishaz, of course, but each one of them is precious to me. That said, there isn’t one of them who doesn’t drive me stark raving mad at least sometimes.”

She picked up a quill to return to her work.

“And you were one hundred percent correct, all three of you are under my protection. If anypony tries to interrogate any of you, I will deal with them.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

But would she allow me to protect her when she needed me most?

“Speaking of ponies who are under my protection, where’s our daughter?”

“She is enjoying a consequence for cussing today.”

“How, pray tell, is she enjoying herself?”

“Assisting a couple of guards who are giving our esteemed culinary artiste’s scullery team a break until you tell her she can stop.”

“Oh, so it’s my day to be the nice parent, is it?”

“I’m sure that’s every day, my love.”

“I’ll rescue her in a little while, lemme finish this page.”

I kissed her cheek, careful not to disrupt her writing.

—

“How was your time in the kitchen?” I asked Gloam at dinner.

“Chef Voox said that I did grate!”

Her grin left me wondering whether the kitchen was still standing. But we had plates of food before us; it must have been cooked somewhere.

“I might need to consider increasing his wine budget,” Twilight mused. “If he gets much more ‘help’.”

—

Days later Twilight showed me the results of her efforts before shipping the pages to Princess Celestia in Canterlot. Hundreds of sheets, covered front and back with her tiniest hoofwriting. ‘I will not doubt my teacher’, ‘I will not doubt my teacher’, ‘I will not doubt my teacher’, over and over again.

I flipped through one of the stacks of paper.

“I pity the pony who gets assigned counting duty to make sure you didn’t miss any.”

“Pity the pony who wrote it,” groaned Twilight.

“Wait a second—” I held up a random sheet of paper “—number five thousand one hundred and thirty-seven says ‘I will not doodiehead my teacher. Start over!”

“I’ll noogie-head you, smart ass!” she cried.

Twilight chased after me and I fled, laughing.