//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: I love you, Mom and Dad // by VashTheStampede //------------------------------// Many years ago… “Fleur my darling, I’m home!” A tall, well-built unicorn stallion called to his wife as he walked into the entryway of his Canterlot home. He paused as his ear twitched – his wife usually replied immediately. Stepping further into his house, he levitated his hat over to the rack and his briefcase to the table, his light blue aura fading from his lengthy horn. “Fleur? My dear, are you home?” Fancy Pants had a good voice – a soft, gentle voice, but it carried well. If his wife was in the house, she had heard him. A shuffling, stumbling noise from upstairs confirmed his suspicions and he immediately felt some guilt; Fleur was getting out of bed. She didn’t nap often, but, much to the injury of his gentlecoltly ways, Fancy found himself interrupting nearly every single one of them. He heard her hooves falling softly on the floor above him, the sound letting him know she was descending the stairs into the entryway. Every time Fancy Pants saw his wife it was like the first time. She was the ultimate definition of pristine feminine beauty. Like Fancy, she was a unicorn, with a lengthy, thin horn that drew up to a razor-thin point protruding from the center of her forehead. She was tall, for a unicorn, very tall, and her body reflected that – much like her horn, her legs were incredibly long and slender, ending in dainty hooves that the mare kept in perfect condition. Her coat was just slightly off-white, but not that dirty yellow off-white, no, this was rather a very slightly pinkish white, like that of cotton candy viewed through a sheet of waxed paper. Her mane, the most exquisite of pinks streaked with one perfect line of just lighter pink, was kept expertly styled at all times. Fancy had always loved that part about his wife – her mane. It was so soft and smooth that it gave the impression of being under the same enchantments as one of the Princess’ manes, were Fleur moving and the observer not paying much attention. Which, given this was Fleur de Lis, victor of Canterlot’s Next Top Model several years ago (and still capable of winning it again today, mind you), everypony paid her attention. So today, when she walked downstairs, smiling like a madmare, mane disheveled and makeup running down her face, Fancy Pants was quite unnerved. “Fleur my dear what’s w-” the great white unicorn was cut off as his wife telekinetically thrust three slightly odd-smelling objects towards his face. She was still smiling and giggling, despite the evidence she had been crying recently. “Fleur, I’m sorry but I don’t get what you’re trying to say. Wait… these are…” recognition flooded through his face as Fancy Pants’ concerned frown changed rapidly into a joyful smile. “Really? Are these… are you really? After all those months of trying… not saying I didn’t enjoy trying,” Fancy Pants winked at his wife, eliciting a small blush, “but after all this time… I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me.” “Fancy Pants my love, there is nothing wrong with you. Even if it had turned out that way, it wouldn’t matter, we could always have adopted. We don’t have to worry about that, though! Oh my goodness I’m pregnant!” A high pitched giggle escaped the mare, involuntarily trotting in place in excitement. “You’re really… wow. Oh Fleur this is the best news! Positively wonderful! I’ll tell you what – you go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll take you out to any restaurant you like, absolutely anywhere, my treat. Just like old times, back when we were still merely dating. Oh goodness Fleur, I’m going to be a father!” --- Eleven Months Later… “Sir, please – for your own sanity stay out here,” the doctor pleaded. He knew it was hopeless, he’d seen this kind of stallion before. The ones who hadn’t seen their wife or lover give birth yet. He knew that this stallion, one Mr. Fancy Pants, would insist on going inside the room and watching his wife give birth to his child. “That is my wife in there, this is the moment I have been waiting for for all of my life, the birth of my child. I am going into that room and I am going to watch!” Fancy Pants declared, pushing past the stallion and into the delivery room. His wife had gone into labor about half an hour ago, a psychic pulse, the kind reserved for only the closest of ponies, from her alerted him to that – he had left work without a word of explanation and in an extreme rush, but his boss would understand. After all, Fancy Pants had spoken of practically nothing but how the preparations for the baby were coming along, how Fleur was handling it, etcetera – and so when, approximately eleven months after he had first mentioned it, he ran from the room faster than any of his co-workers had ever seen the stallion move, everyone gave an amused laugh before getting back to work. Now here, in the delivery room, seeing his wife like this… Fancy wasn’t sure whether to be overjoyed or dismayed. She was clearly in pain, but her smile was reassuring. It was a smile that said, The pain is ok, because this will be worth it. Carefully sidestepping the nurse bent between his wife’s back legs, he trotted over to Fleur, taking one of her hooves in both of his. Just his touch brought comfort to the mare, smiling as she pushed in time with the nurse’s instructions. Daring to take his hooves off of Fleur’s for just a moment to take a quick peek, he quickly peered around the little blanket that had been placed over Fleur’s lower body for the sake of decency, and immediately regretted it. No one told me there would be that much blood, Fancy Pants thought, calmly, before collapsing. --- He woke in a rather less-than-comfortable chair about four feet from the hospital bed Fleur was resting in. A small bundle lay in her forehooves, the distinct sound of two ponies breathing coming from the bed. He found the room curiously empty aside from himself and his wife, he had figured for sure doctors and nurses would be busy running in and out of the room making sure the foal was healthy and safe. I must have been out for a while, he thought. “Oh, Celestia, I fainted and missed the delivery, didn’t I? Fleur, how are they? Is it a filly or a colt?” Fancy asked, getting up from the chair and trotting over to the bed. Before he could see his foal, however, Fleur drew the blanket up around the child. Without making eye contact, she spoke. “Fancy? You love me with all your heart, right?” Fancy hesitated, these were not the joyous words he expected. “Of course, my dear, why would you ever thi-” “A-and… and you know I would never even dream of… of sleeping with another pony, right?” Fancy Pants stiffened at those words. Before he could respond, Fleur spoke again. “Before you see her… I swear to Celestia, on my life, on our marriage… I swear to you, she is your foal.” “Fleur… please, let me see the child.” Slowly, Fleur turned and moved the blankets from above the filly. Instead of the white unicorn foal with a pastel mane Fancy Pants had been expecting, a cyan Pegasus with a mane of seven colors looked back at him. The child slept, breath softly escaping her nostrils, as Fleur gently cradled her. “Fleur…” “Fancy Pants please, I swear, she’s yours, she is your foal, I would nev-” “Fleur. Fleur my dear I love you so very much. I will forgive any… dalliances you may have had from me, on the condition you do not lie to me,” Fancy Pants said, his voice eerily calm. “Fancy I’m not lying to you, I would never cheat on you, she’s yours, she is yours…” Fleur began to cry, softly, clutching the foal to her chest. “There is no way in Celestia’s green Equestria that a blue Pegasus foal with a rainbow mane came from two white unicorns! I will forgive you, just don’t lie to me!” “I’m not lying!” “This is not po-” Fancy stopped, not realizing he had been yelling until the cries of the foal reached his ears. He paused, taking several deep breaths, before giving the ultimatum. “Fleur, that is not my child. I do not want to see her again. Either the child stays or I stay, you cannot have both.” “How could you make me choose between my husband and our daughter?” “That is not my daughter!” Fancy roared, “I am going for a walk. When I have returned, I expect you to have made a decision,” he said, his voice lowered, but still full of anger, before turning and walking out the door. --- Two weeks later, Fancy Pants sat opposite his wife in his living room, relaxed in a large, plush reclining chair, reading a book and sipping tea in front of the fireplace. A light tapping on the door followed by the sound of papers hitting the floor indicated the mail had arrived. Fleur hastily got up from her own chair and trotted to the entryway, telekinetically retrieving the mail from the floor. “Oh, good, it’s here!” “What’s that, my dear? Order something in the mail?” Fancy asked absent-mindedly, taking another sip from his tea. “The results of the blood test,” Fleur replied, trotting back into the living room. “What blood test?” “The one that will tell you that you and I are the parents of that little Pegasus filly. If it doesn’t say that, I will accept any accusations of infidelity you wish to place upon me. However, if it says you and I are the foal's biological parents? We are going out right now and getting her back from that dreadful orphanage you had her sent to,” Fleur declared. Fancy Pants marked his page in the book and set his tea down, giving his wife his full attention. “Very well then, dear, read it.” Fleur opened the letter and cleared her throat. “Dear Mr. Fancy Pants and Mrs. Fleur de Lis, it is with great pleasure I can inform you that the fantastic, blue-coated, rainbow-maned Pegasus filly is in fact your biological daughter. The odds of such a beautiful colorization and race combination coming from two white unicorn parents are, quite literally, one million to one. Her birth certificate is still on file and available for pick-up at your earliest convenience. I wish both of you the best of luck in your parenting endeavor. With much happiness, Doctor Young Blood.” Fancy Pants, his monocle long since detached from his face, sat in his chair, his mouth hanging open. “You mean to say…” “Yes, you numbskull, she is our daughter. I believe we have an errand to run?” “Oh Celestia, Fleur, I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, I should have never doubted you, oh my love I’m so sorry… can you forgive a stupid, faithless old stallion?” “Of course I can,” Fleur said, striding over and giving him a kiss, “Because I love you and I know you love me. I knew she was ours the entire time, you just needed a little convincing. Come now, we have a daughter to retrieve.” --- “Fancy Pants?” Fleur asked, in a slight state of shock. “Yes my love?” “This is the address for the orphanage, correct?” “I’m… I’m afraid so, my love.” Before the pair stood the charred skeleton of a building that used to be an orphanage.