//------------------------------// // Chapter 11 // Story: Foalsitting Follies // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle awoke to a rather insistent boop upon the snoot along with a fearful voice whining, “It’s dark.” Well, of course it was dark, ponies were trying to sleep. The once-slumbering Snarkle Sharkle kept her sarcasm to herself though, as something seemed to be quite wrong with one of the small, helpless, sometimes adorable sometimes horrible quadrupeds of the equine species she was foalsitting. With some effort, Twilight ignited her horn and through blurry, bleary, half-open eyes, she saw Corbie standing beside her bed, just as the filly booped her on the nose again. “Whashwrongwishoo?” Twilight whashwrongwishooed in a not quite awake yet voice. “I have a tummy ache,” Corbie replied, and then she burped. Something foul slithered up Twilight’s nostrils and it smelled like sour milk, but worse. “Aroogonnabeshick?” It was a wonder that Corbie could understand Twilight at all, and she replied, “Yes.” Then, there was a sound. Twilight, for all of her infinite power, lacked the means to describe the noise she heard next, but it filled with her mortal panic. She had battled gods, eldritch abominations, she had walked the many passages of Skyreach, she had seen nations rise and fall, she had once watched an ocean be boiled away, and she had witnessed the wonder of Celestia and Luna engaging in orbital bombardment. None of those things prepared her for the terror she now experienced, or the sudden awakening of the pegasus nature slumbering deep within her. Twilight moved, and with great rapidity. With a roll-over, a jerk, and a flap of wings, she was airborne in less time than it took to blink, and not a moment too soon either, as Corbie was now spewing up the contents of her stomach right into the spot where Twilight had been laying a fraction of a second before. Twilight Sparkle was faster than the speed of vomit, and a part of her was pretty impressed with herself. Rainbow Dash might break the sound barrier with the same casual effort as she broke wind—which is to say she did it often and with great frequency—but Twilight was faster than the speed of vomit. Now wide awake, Twilight was certain that she was having a nightmare, as there seemed to be more vomit than what the inside of a small pegasus filly could conceivably hold. Alas, Twilight Sparkle was not faster than the speed of smell, and it gave her a rousing slap across the face to remind her of how slow she was. “Gah!” she gasped, almost gagging. Hovering above her bed, Twilight watched in disgusted horror as she tried to think of what to do next. Corbie was still somehow puking—which seemed impossible—and Twilight was forced to wonder just how much ice cream she and Spike had eaten. Trying not to breathe, she waited for the end to come so that she could begin the process of cleaning everything up. For the first time, Twilight realised that being a parent might have some real drawbacks. Twilight’s ear twitched when she heard the staccato echo bouncing off of the inside of the ceramic bowl of the toilet. This wasn’t how she imagined spending her night, trapped in a bathroom with a filly that was squirting out of both ends. In fact, this wasn’t how she imagined her future as a parent, either. For some reason, she had envisioned some bright, glorious future, scintillating with promise, raising bespectacled little bookworms that benefited society. Now, that dream had been tainted, befouled, contaminated with spewing, squirting little foals soaking down her bed with unpleasant, unmentionable effluvia. Corbie had the curious habit of flapping her wings when she spewed or squirted, as if she was pumping out whatever was inside of her. She looked miserable, and Twilight pitied her. It was probably a lot of fun eating all of that ice cream, candied cherries, and syrups of all types. Twilight herself had gone through this, eating far too many sweets, and then suffering the consequences. It had been her father that had stayed with her through that long, never ending night. Panting, Corbie moaned out the words, “Milk always gives me the pooty-poots…” For a moment, it appeared as though she was going to say more, but then she barfed into a wastebasket set in front of the toilet. Twilight wondered where Princess Celestia would exile her for this debacle. Nuance had a black eye, Radiance was exploring his inner-fascist, and Corbie was exploding from both ends. Everything was not fine, which made Twilight wonder if Seville and Pinkie Pie would join her on her long exile. But no foals. Nope. Right now there was some serious doubts about squirting another living, breathing, farting, burping, barfing, pooping being out of her backside. There was an unexpected knock on the door, followed by an even more unexpected visitor. Rarity came in, looking exhausted and not at all like herself. She carried with her a glass of water and a rather large black gelatin capsule. A horse pill, such as it was. She paused just inside the door, her nostrils flaring, and she made a petite, “Ooh,” sound. “You poor dear,” Rarity said as her sleepy sashay carried her through the bathroom. “I’ve brought you an activated charcoal capsule and some water. Do try to swallow it, it will make you feel better.” “Charcoal?” Twilight’s muzzle scrunched and she gave Rarity a puzzled look. “Yes. Charcoal.” Rarity stood there near Corbie, waiting until the filly was ready to take her pill. “You learn a lot when you stay in a city that is under siege. What, with all of the foul gases, noxious miasmas, and the toxic fumes the rats send up from the sewers, quite a few ponies get sick. Everypony carries activated charcoal capsules to help their stomachs.” While Twilight watched, Rarity stuffed the enormous pill between Corbie’s lips, helped her drink some water, and Corbie gagged a little as the pill went down. With nothing else to do, Twilight waited, wondering if it would work. She recalled that Rarity had arrived in quite a state, and her curiousity overwhelmed her. “Did something happen today when you were in Canterlot?” Twilight asked. Yawning, Rarity covered her mouth with one hoof, blinked a few times, then replied, “The Underwatch harpooned a particularly nasty specimen and hauled it up to the surface so the sun would help kill it. It put up quite a fight… and it was right in front of my store. Mistress Rarity does not abide such action, so I was forced to go outside and help clean up my storefront. So I did. So it was done. There was quite a scuffle and much unpleasantness.” Twilight realised that Rarity had been doing this for quite some time. While Rarity might look like a genteel mare of the upper class, the simple truth was, Rarity was more than capable of throwing down. Together, they had been in all manner of scuffles, and Twilight had never known Rarity to back down from a tussle. Now, her many trips and extended stays in Canterlot made sense. How often did Rarity stay inside of her store in Canterlot, just hoping for a fight to break out? Or a battle? “There… I am reasonably certain that the activated charcoal will help. Now, darling, Mistress Rarity will help to clean you up and help you feel like a lady again, young miss. Would you like that?” Corbie gave a weak nod. “Twilight, darling… go and check on little Nuance. Careful, he’s a light sleeper.” Rarity made a dismissive wave with her hoof to shoo Twilight away. “Go on, I have this. Corbie and I have been friends for a very long time now and I think I can handle this.” Sighing with relief, Twilight responded with a soft-uttered, “Okay.” Then, she left. Nuance’s room was dark and as she entered, she wondered to herself if the little colt might have a fear of the dark. It seemed common and reasonable enough, and the little guy might just be trying to hide it. After all, he did live with Luna… a number of reasons popped into her head, but she didn’t pay them much attention when her ears perked to the sound of somepony crying. It was a soft, faint sound, little more than breathing, but it was crying. Fearing Nuance’s wrath, Twilight, who left the door open behind her to provide a little light from the hallway, approached the colt’s bed. It was a troubling sound, a worrisome sound, and she worried about the repercussions of Nuance feeling embarrassed. Standing beside the bed, she had trouble telling if Nuance was asleep or awake. He was crying, but unmoving, and his eyes were closed. Well, one eye was swollen shut, but the other eye did not open. Feeling conflicted, Twilight stood there, not knowing what to do. Should she wake him? Leave him sleeping? Did he need his medicine? Was he in pain? Was the hurt caused by more than the injuries to his face? He was so troubled, so little, so fragile and frail. Nuance had attacked her many times, making a foolish attempt at domination and power. Some of the things he said had hurt, though she’d never admit to it. He was disliked; so much so that it had become a joke, something to laugh at. Even his attempt to be hated had backfired, and Nuance had to know that he was a joke. Now, he was stuck where he was; friendless, unwanted, unwelcomed, and everypony around him couldn’t bear to be near him. It was a difficult environment to make friends in. “I miss my Mama.” The words were punctuated by much snuffling, and Twilight felt the hairs along her spine rise when she heard them. Standing beside the bed, she shuffled on her hooves from one side to another, and tried to think about what to say in return. It was harder than she thought. “My face hurts,” Nuance said, and his voice sounded dry, like rough, crinkling paper. Lifting the little colt with her magic, Twilight held him close to her neck, hoping to keep him warm so he wouldn’t shiver. The little guy had suffered enough, and she was empathetic to his needs. Something had to be wrong, because he didn’t fidget, fuss, kick, curse, or wiggle to be set free. Sensing opportunity, Twilight hoped to make the most of the moment that she had. The colt had made silly faces when he had been given the liquid pain reliever, but Twilight didn’t allow herself to laugh. She didn’t want Nuance thinking that she was laughing at him. Soon, the cherry flavoured liquid would take effect and little Nuance would be free from pain. Sighing, tired, but still jittery from adrenaline, Twilight sat down on the couch beside where she had put Nuance. Saying nothing, she picked the colt up, hefted him around, and embraced him. He did not protest. “Which one of your mothers do you miss?” Twilight asked, hoping to get inside of Nuance’s head so that she might understand him more. For a time, it seemed as though no answer was forthcoming—Twilight endured the silence while she held the colt—and at last, her patience was rewarded. “I miss Luna,” Nuance replied, his voice already slurring a bit from the cherry-scented liquid. “She knows my pain… she knows I’m not faking.” That’s an enlightening reply, Twilight thought to herself and she felt Nuance’s head come to rest against her neck. She said nothing, now felt more like the time to listen, and she began to rub the colt’s back with one hoof while holding him with the other. A curious thought rose into her mind, a distraction, and she wondered how Rarity knew so much about Corbie. “My other mom does not love me,” Nuance whispered and the colt shuddered with every word he uttered. Twilight felt a chill and cold prickles made her dock tingle. “What makes you say that?” “She has an entire school full of little unicorns that she loves and she spends more time with them than she does me.” Nuance stiffened, his muscles tensing, and he added, “Little unicorns that aren’t magical duds and don’t wet the bed. I hate them all.” How do I respond to that? Twilight asked herself while her heart sank. Every answer that popped into her head somehow sounded patronising. Nuance was in a bad spot, no doubt. His mother was the busiest mare in Equestria, who ran a school, lead a nation, held back the darkness, was raising three foals, had a husband, and to make everything worse, she lived in a fortified military compound that was having a profound effect upon her strongest, most capable son. She did not see a way to fix this. For just a moment, Twilight Sparkle felt all of the bleak despair that Nuance had to be feeling, and it almost crushed her. Unable to do anything else, Twilight did the only thing she could do. Still rubbing his back, she held on to Nuance, determined to hold him until he drifted off to sleep, and then she would tuck him into bed. Like Nuance, Twilight Sparkle felt so weak and powerless.