Warm autumn days were rare and always meant to be enjoyed. Birds fluttered about, chirping happily, squirrels and other rodents took their time foraging, and even the fish in the brook seemed to bask the final rays of sunlight, swimming calmly up and down the water. Dinky loved afternoons like this, especially when she went out with her mom, and even more when it was at the local park.
She’d picked their spot herself: under the young maple tree next to the brook. That way they were a comfortable distance from the other ponies, had just the right amount of shade, and could take a drink whenever they pleased. It was even better that they had a perfect view of canterlot, and by default, the soon to be setting sun.
Together they splayed their red and white checkerboard blanket over the grass, putting decently-sized rocks on the corners so the cool breeze wouldn’t blow it away. Then came the food that they’d made. Carrots and celery, two fresh apples, a bowl of potato salad, and a muffin and cupcake, straight from the ovens of Sugarcube Corner.
Once they had everything ready and had finally sat down, Dinky reached for her prize. “I call dibs on the cupcake!”
Her hoof was quickly smacked away by her mother, who gave her a stern look. “No sweets until after dinner. You’ll ruin your appetite.” The filly gave a pout, but was met with unyielding eyes. She sighed and gave herself a big helping of potato salad instead. Potatoes were alright. Ditzy picked a little of everything for herself, though the celery to carrot and salad ratio was rather skewed in the green stalks’ favor.
They ate in an easy silence for a while, watching the sun slowly begin its journey behind the hills. The world was bathed in a comfortable orange light, and even the fillies and colts a little down their small hill paused from their squealing and running to appreciate it. There was something about the setting sun that made life seem so tranquil and innocent, as if the final warm rays were a soft kiss before the blanket of night set in.
Clearly Dinky must’ve felt it just as much as she did, because only a moment later Ditzy could feel the little unicorn press herself against her side, her eyes fixed on the sky as she ate. With the slightest smile, Ditzy wrapped one wing around her daughter, pulling her closer, and kissed her head softly before returning her gaze to the sky.
All felt right with the world.
When night fell, the blue light wrapped them in a cool embrace, the moon and her stars shone softly, and fireflies flickered in a dignified yet subdued manner as they went about their realm. Dinky liked it, though not as much as she had the sunset. Her gaze turned to the field where just moments ago a dozen colts and fillies had been playing, and saw the number had been drastically cut down to two. Sisters, by the looks of it, though she couldn’t identify them. They were talking ambiently to a stallion who looked tired, but just as happy as them. He hoisted the smaller of the fillies on his back and trotted away with them, smiling.
“Special Delivery told me the most interesting thing the other day: his sister’s moving here next week, and apparently her daughter is going to be attending your school. Isn’t that neat?”
“Mhm.”
“Maybe you and Sweet Pop could show her around town; help her make some friends?”
“Yup.”
Ditzy, who had been trying to fill the silence up to that point, paused. She looked from her dinner to her daughter, then followed the filly’s gaze to the playground. With it being so dark she could hardly see it now-- even with the night’s natural light and the couple streetlights-- and her lazy eye didn’t help the situation. “Whatcha lookin’ at, muffin?” She asked, wondering what the filly could’ve possibly seen to make her look so sour all of a sudden.
Dinky, frowning, looked up at her mother, noting how confused she looked. The unicorn munched slowly on her potato salad, mulling the question over until she settled with: “Don’t I have a dad, mom?”
“Of course you do, muffin. What would make you ask that?”
“Well...” Dinky paused, and frowned a bit more as she tried to match words to her scattered thoughts, “I mean, if you’re my mom, then I must have a dad, right?” Here she looked at her mother for confirmation, and when the pegasus nodded, she went on. “Then why isn’t he here?”
“Because it’s our special time, muffin,”
“Yeah, I know, but why can’t we have special time together? All the time? Why does it have to be once a month with just you and me? Nopony else does that.” Her frowned deepened even more, and she adopted a stressed look. “Why, if Written Script is my dad, does he have two moms, and why do I live with him and Golden and not you? A-And if he’s my dad, why don’t I look like him?” The filly shook her head, rubbing her ear like she did whenever she was flustered. “D-Does that make sense?”
“...Yes? I think I understand what you’re saying.” Ditzy said after a moment, nodding slowly. She tried to look calm, but Dinky could see and feel how tense she’d become. It was as plain to see as her coat was gray. The pegasus pulled back her wing and turned her head away for a moment, a worried look flashing over her face as she tried to find a suitable answer.
“W-Well, you see, a long time ago, before you were born, me and... your other dad, the one that looks more like you... were together. But he-- erm,” She looked for an appropriate term, “...Drifted. We started to not like each other like we used to. We still cared for each other very much, but we didn’t-- uh-- love each other anymore. Do you understand?”
“So you got divorced?” Dinky asked, and Ditzy gave another tense nod. “A-And then dad married my other mom?” Again, another nod, though Ditzy couldn’t look her in the face. Dinky set down her food and stared at the fireflies for a while, analysing the new information.
“But... if...” She muttered, just loud enough for Ditzy to hear, “If dad’s married to her, and she raised me, then that would make her my mom, right? That’s what moms do.” She slowly turned to the gray pegasus, panic rising in her voice. “But you don’t raise me, Golden does. I-If she’s my mom, then what would that make you?”
Ditzy looked as if she’d been struck.
Dinky immediately reached forward to hug her mother. “I-I’m sorry, mom, I didn’t… I was just wondering is all.”
Ditzy nodded and Dinky pulled away, giving the pegasus space. She glanced at her from time to time, only to see the poor mare eating her celery stalks dejectedly.
Dinky felt terrible. She hadn’t meant to hurt her mother like that.
“Your father-- your… real father-- was a good stallion. He knew how to carry himself and he was very good at inspiring the best out of everypony around him.” Her mother spoke softly and Dinky scooted closer to hear. “He was ambitious. Always had to be one step ahead of everyone with the newest ideas.” She looked down at Dinky, a small smile on her face. “Kinda like you.”
Dinky perked up at that. “Really?” She wondered what else she had in common with her dad. Her real dad. She wondered where he was and what he was doing, and if she’d ever get to meet him. She imagined he was really handsome and went on adventures and stuff like Daring Do. Maybe he’d give her her thousand year old treasures when they met!
If Ditzy lacked the same enthusiasm, she didn’t show it. Instead she rested her wing over her daughter once more and motioned her to lie next to her. “Oh yes, same purple coat, if a bit darker. His mane-- do you remember your old doctor? Doc Top?” Dinky nodded. “Well, your father had a similar hairstyle, though his hair was a dirty blonde and not half a curly as Top’s.”
Dinky imagined her dad as a baby doctor. It wasn’t even half as cool as an adventurer. “What was his cutie mark?”
“He didn’t have one,”
“How didn’t he have a cutie mark?!” Dinky looked like her understanding of the world had done a straight 180. “He couldn’t’ve not had a cutie mark!”
Ditzy only laughed at her daughter’s shock. “Cutie marks aren’t everything, muffin. A pony can get along fine without one.”
Dinky raised her hoovs in exasperation. “But it’s a cutie mark! Don’t you need it to tell you where to go in life?”
“Not necessarily. If that were true I’d be blowing bubbles for a living, and that wouldn’t pay the bills.” Ditzy shook her head. “Cutie marks show your special talent, but you can take them as suggestions rather than instructions for life. He always said not having a cutie mark left more roads open than closed.” She nudged her daughter’s flank playfully. “If you don’t get yours, you should have the same positive attitude.”
Dinky shook her head, “Nah, I’m gonna get a cutie mark and it’ll be awesome. Probably better than Rainbow Dash’s. Then they’ll have a fanclub for me.” The filly puffed up her chest, but quickly broke down to share a laugh with her mother.
Once they’d calm down, they laid on their backs to look up at the stars, food forgotten. Ditzy let out a sigh, watching a cloud drift past the moon. “If it makes you feel better though, he was very good with his hooves. He could make the most amazing cloud sculptures.”
Dinky’s ears perked at her mother’s soft words, making her tilt her head slightly to look at her. Ditzy had a nostalgic look about her, and just the slightest of smiles. “So he was a pegasus? Did you live in Cloudsdale? What was that like?”
“Pretty much the same as Ponyville, except on clouds and with a lot more ponies. We really liked it there. We were going to spend our lives together.”
Dinky rolled onto her side, looking at her mother earnestly. “Then why’d you leave?”
“We got divorced.”
“Why?”
“We just didn’t love each other like we thought did. Things like that happen.”
She pressed further. “Why though?”
“I just told ya, muffin.”
Dinky’s eyes drifted to her mother’s wings, and her posture slumped slightly. The filly pawed at her ear and murmured, “It was... because of me, wasn’t it?”
Now it was Ditzy’s turn to sit up. The pegasus looked positively terrified at the notion; with bristling fur and buggy eyes. “W-Why would you think that, muffin?”
“It’s ‘cause I’m not a pegasus, isn’t it? ‘Cause I can’t walk on clouds?” Dinky asked, feeling her eyes grow wet at the idea. Her mother’s shifty eye and stammering only accented her point. Dinky stood onto her hooves. “If I wasn’t a unicorn you’d still be in Cloudsdale. You’d still be happy with him.”
“Oh, muffin, that isn’t true.” Ditzy tried to give her a hug, but the filly stepped out of reach, glaring at her and shaking her head slightly, but with just enough fear that threatened she’d run if Ditzy got any closer.
The filly had begun to cry as her thoughts raced in her head, creating a storm of scenarios, and she wasn’t sure whether they were long forgotten memories reborn from her fast-approaching breakdown or figments of her vivid imagination.
In one she saw her falling out of the clouds and barely getting caught by a nurse. In another she saw her father and Ditzy fighting over her. Maybe her father didn’t want her because of her race. Maybe he wanted to get rid of her... a-and maybe Ditzy did too. Ditzy would need to give her to somepony. A good friend maybe.
“Do you regret having me, mom? Am I a… a--” She hiccuped, “--burden to you?” Ditzy was moving her mouth, panicking, but Dinky couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in her ears. The filly had a sinking feeling that she was right and Ditzy didn’t want her. Maybe Golden didn’t want her either. Maybe she was a burden to everypony.
Ditzy didn’t know what to do. No matter what she tried to say, it just wasn’t getting to Dinky. The filly looked like a mess, with tears running down her cheeks and snot dripping from her nose. And even worse she looked like she was having a mental breakdown. Ditzy didn’t know what to do.
So she did the only thing she could.
She wrapped her arm around the small unicorn and pulled her close, holding her firmly against her breast even as the filly tried to pull away. Ditzy hugged her adamantly, shushing her distressed filly and murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. Steadily the filly began to calm down, even pressing against her as the seconds ticked by. “I love you, Dinky. I love you so, so much,” Ditzy whispered, slowly running her hoof through her blonde hair.
Long after the filly’s racing heart had slowed to match her mother’s steady tempo and her cries had quieted to sniffles, she remained in her mother’s loving embrace, feeling numb and unfit to do anything but listen. Ditzy had begun to rock slightly, singing a lullaby that Dinky hadn’t heard in a very long time. ”Hush now. Quiet now.” Ditzy whispered. Dinky could feel herself drifting off to sleep, but one question nagged at her.
“If you love me so much, then why aren’t you the one raising me?”
Ditzy didn’t reply for several moments, simply opting to ignore the question and continue her ministrations, though her hooves held that tell-tale tenseness. Her silence flipped a switch. The little filly began to struggle again, this time putting up a stronger fight, yelling, “Lemmie go mom! Lemmie go!”
“Dinky, I love you! I want nothing more than to raise you, muffin. There’s nothing that would make me happier. Dinky, I love you so much.”
“Then why don’t you do it, mom?!” Dinky shouted, not bothering to hide her anger. Her tears felt hot on her cheeks. Her whole body felt hot. She pounded at her mother with all her strength, relentlessly beating her chest until the pegasus’ grip weakened. The unicorn bolted out of reach before the pegasus could grab her again and glared at her mother, who was as much of a mess as she was. “Why would you give me to somepony else if you want to raise me?! Why?!”
Ditzy had wrapped her arms and feathers around her, trying to hug herself as she cried. He remained like that for a few moments, rocking herself as if Dinky hadn’t just ripped herself away from her. She tried to hide behind her feathers, then murmured softly, “It’s… It’s because I… I’m not ready.”
Dinky stepped forward slightly. “What’d you say?”
“I’m not ready, Dinky!” Ditzy sobbed. She saw her daughter jump back in surprise, but couldn’t stop herself. The floodgates had been opened. “Cloud and I were so young. We never thought anything through. When we learned I was pregnant we were so happy. He was so excited to have a daughter, Dinky. He wanted to teach you so many things. We-- we’d just assumed we’d have… b-but when you were born he...” The pegasus choked on her sobs, hugging herself tighter. “I tried to take care of you, Dinky, I really did. But I wasn’t ready. ...I’m still not ready.”
When Ditzy looked up at her, the filly was staring at her with cold eyes, looking as if she was pushing every fiber of her being into directing the spiteful glare at the mare. It’s purpose was to shame her and it succeeded. Dinky stuck her tongue out at her for good measure. “W-Well fine!” Sneered the filly, “I… I guess you’re not my m-mom anymore, Ditzy Doo.”
“What? Dinky--”
“N-Now you don’t need to stay on the stupid ground!” With that, she galloped away.
“Dinky, wait! Dinky!” Ditzy shouted, scrambling to her hooves. Almost as quickly as she’d risen, she slipped on her daughter’s cupcake and fell. Not letting the setback stop her, she kicked the pastry away and ran in the direction her daughter had gone, calling her name.
Her heart was pounding now. She couldn’t see far with her good eye and she didn’t dare fly in fear of hitting something. She wasn’t sure if Dinky was even in the park anymore. That filly was a fast runner, after all, and it didn’t take much to lap the clumsy mare. So she did what she could, galloping about and calling Dinky’s name, making a ruckus and practically begging the filly to show herself.
But alas, the minutes passed and she couldn’t find the girl. Ditzy, weak in the knees from her sprints, crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. All she could think about was how much her daughter hated her. She wished she’d never brought Cloud up. She wished she’d never even met him. She wished that she’d listened to her mother.
With a heavy, broken sigh, the mare forced herself to her hooves and stalked off in what she hoped had been their picnic spot, if the powerful scent of sugar was anything to go by.
If Ditzy had gone just a bit further to the tree grove on the south-east end of the park, she would’ve found a small unicorn filly sitting by herself, trying to hold on to her anger as misery began to take ahold of her.
=====
There were days when Ditzy felt happy, and there were days when she felt too sad to do very much of anything. On those days, she would sleep long after her alarm clock rang, reflexively curling herself up behind her wings under her covers. Once she’d slumped out of bed, she’d eat breakfast slowly, and trudge on to work, where she’d be berated for being late. On these days she was infamous for messing up mail, dropping letters everywhere, and crashing into things. More so than she normally did.
“Ditzy Doo!” Twilight yelled, summoning her magic as the grey pegasus crashed into her library. A magenta-colored veil washed over the bookshelves, keeping them safely encased while the pegasus entered head-first into a pillow the unicorn magicked up. The pillow was just enough to keep the pegasus from ruining her good eye, but not enough to keep her from hitting the bookshelves anyway.
Ditzy slid to the ground, moaning in pain. Twilight dropped her spells and rushed up to her. “Are you okay, Ditzy? You didn’t break anything?”
“No, just...” Ditzy held up her foreleg, revealing a pretty bad bruise. Twilight winced at it.
“I’ll get you some ice.” Before Ditzy could thank her, the unicorn had run off to the kitchen, leaving her on her own. The library was empty and neat, save her delivery bag, which had landed in a corner, and the shards of glass that littered the floor.
Ditzy busied herself with pushing the shards into a neat pile until the unicorn came back. She had finished when Twilight returned with an ice pack and a thin cloth. Even with the cloth creating a barrier between her skin and the ice, Ditzy still winced when it touched her. Eventually the pain did fade away a little, getting replaced with a slight numbness. The bruise felt a lot better.
“Thank you, Twilight. Sorry for being a burden.”
“No, no, it was my pleasure having you, really. It’s good to have somepony ‘drop in’ on slow days,” The unicorn laughed, snorting a bit at her own joke. Then her eyes brightened and she got a wide smile. “Hey, would you like to borrow a book while you’re here?”
“Erm, no thanks. I don’t really--” Ditzy paused for a moment, then shook her head. “Actually, yes. I would like a book.”
“Excellent! Do you have anything in mind? Adventure? Mystery? Romance?” The librarian had already begun to pull out several books, giving a basic synopsis of each of them. She paused at a book with a grey tie dominating the cover. “This one seems pretty popular with the older mares around town--”
“Actually Twilight,” Ditzy cut in, moving the book aside to look the unicorn in the eyes. “I’d like a book on parenting. Preferably a help book on fillies, if you have one.”
“Of course I do! One moment please,” Twilight nodded and levitated the other books back in their places. She trotted to a section of the library full of health and lifestyle books, going over each of their titles carefully. She hummed as she picked out four books, each one bigger than the last, and levitated them in front of Ditzy. “These four all specialize in parts of a filly’s development, starting from birth and early foalhood--” she pointed at the largest book, “--to becoming a young mare.” Here she pointed at the smallest book, which, in comparison to the romance book she’d shown Ditzy earlier, was still rather large.
Ditzy looked all four over before choosing the second-smallest book: Dr. Mother Nature’s Guide to: Staying Close to Your Tween Daughter. She didn’t feel up to reading anything larger, and it seemed to be aimed for parents with fillies around Dinky’s age. The girl was only eleven, after all. She was getting to that age.
“Oh, good choice! Dr. Mother Nature’s work is great. Lots of moms around town give her very good reviews.” She stamped the return date to its card and magicked the book into the pegasus’ mail bag, which she dusted off and set on Ditzy’s back. “Best of luck, Miss Doo!”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Ditzy flew out of the library, careful to keep the ice in place, and headed home. On the way she treated herself to a few dates, idly popping one of the sweet fruit in her mouth every few minutes. She was quite proud of herself for reaching home without bumping into anypony or anything, though she admitted that might’ve been attributed to everypony still finishing up work for the day. As such, she was surprised to see Golden Harvest sitting on her couch, looking antsy.
“Erm… hello, Golden.” Ditzy said, taking a seat opposite of her friend. The yellow earth pony had made herself a pot of tea, and was quick to pour her some. “Thank you,”
Golden Harvest gave her a forced smile. “My pleasure, hon. How was your day?”
“I had less mail than usual today so it was good. You?”
“It was going rather well until...”
There it was. “Until what?”
“...It’s Dinky,” Golden said, returning Ditzy’s worried look with her own, “I just don’t know what happened to that girl. She’s gotten so aggressive, more so than normal mind you, and she’s adopted a pessimistic attitude. Absolutely atrocious.”
Ditzy nodded, sipping her tea quietly as her friend talked. She offered the mare some of her dates, which she accepted.
“Just this morning,” She hid her mouth behind her hoof as she went on, too engrossed in her tale to stop to really chew. “Just this morning after Written left, she went up to Amethyst and asked her what it’s like to have a real pa. Now that’s an odd question for her to ask, so Amethyst tries to joke about it. Amethyst said she-- Dinky that is-- would know, and the filly just snaps! She said so many hurtful things to Amethyst that I simply cannot repeat in polite company, and when the poor girl went up to her room to cry Dinky laughed at her!” She gave an affirmative nod to Dinky’s gasp. “I was just as surprised as you, hon. And when I asked the filly what would make her say such a thing, do ya know what she said?”
‘Nothing good,’ Ditzy thought. She shook her head and the yellow mare went on.
“She said, ‘I’m just acting like my dad!’” When she saw the pegasus sputter, a small, almost proud smile at surprising her friend graced her face. It was quickly erased as she recalled Dinky’s next words. “Then she said, and I quote, ‘The stallion’s only good at hurting ponies! I’m doing the same thing!’”
“N-No,” Ditzy leaned back into her chair, gripping its handles tightly. “D-Did she really say that?”
“I swear on my crops.”
“Oh my,” Golden Harvest was very serious about those carrots. “W-What’d you do?”
“I straightened her out right quick, I did.” A hard look took the mare’s face as she swiped her hoof across the air. “A good old fashioned spanking, then up to her room. She’ll be taking Amethyst’s chores for the rest of the week.” Just as quickly as it had come, her anger fled, leaving dread in its place. Her eyes turned downcast as she shook her head. “Written will have a fit when he hears about this, hon. Ever since his work hours have eased up, he’s been trying extra hard to bond with that filly. And here we thought she was finally warming up to him.”
“Golden? I...” Ditzy gulped, “This... might’ve been my fault.”
Golden Harvest’s eyes widened. She set her tea down and leaned forward, glaring at the smaller mare. Her voice was low; almost threatening. “Exactly what did you and Dinky do at that picnic of yours?”
“She was asking lots of questions, Golden,” Ditzy tried to sink between the chair’s cushions as her friend began to rise. She could see the heat radiating off of mare’s now dreadfully red ears. “And- and you know how I get when I start thinking about him--”
The earth pony snorted and took to pacing her side of the living room, the hard ‘clip-clop’ on the hardwood flooring reminding Ditzy of what an angry earth pony-- an angry Golden Harvest-- could do to a scrawny pegasus like her. Luckily for her, Golden only muttered to herself. “That’s where all the real pa talk came from...” She turned to Ditzy, “How much did you tell her?”
“L-Like I said, she was asking lots of questions, and I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was saying...”
“We had an agreement, Ditzy.”
“I know. I’m--”
“Do ya know, Ditzy? Do ya really?” Golden’s voice rose as she returned to pacing, trying desperately not to do something she’d regret. “In what part of ‘let the girl think Written’s her father’ does it say ‘tell her about the time your let your teenage hormones get the better of you and had a child with an addict?!’ Would you please point it out to me, Ditzy?!”
Ditzy bristled at the jab, but knew her friend was right. Cloud had just been a mistake. “I really did love him,” She said meekly, nursing her cold tea. “I still do.”
Golden Harvest continued pacing. “I know, hon! But I also know what it’s like growing up with that information. She’s a curious girl. One of these days she’ll go out looking for her real pa and neither you or I will be able to stop her. And once she finds him-- and she will find him, even if she’s got to head up to Cloudsdale-- well, only Faust knows what’ll come from that!”
Finally she stopped, returning to her seat. She poured herself another cup of tea and drowned it in a single gulp. When she finished, she let out a long, tired sigh. “Hon, you’ve got to promise me that you’ll never bring him up when she’s around again. If you need an ear or a wither, I’ll always be there for ya, but I insist you never bring him up again when Dinky’s around.”
Ditzy said nothing.
“Please, Ditzy. I’m not only asking you as a friend, but as a ma, too. I only want what’s best for her.”
Ditzy’s reply was accompanied with a stiff nod. “I understand. ...I promise I won’t do it anymore.”
“Good.” Golden said, and that was that. The earth pony set down her teacup and rose to her hooves, rolling her shoulders a bit. “Now, if you could excuse me, I’ve a meetup with Roseluck and the gals. Want to come?”
“No, I’m still tired from work. I’ll see you later.”
“Alright. Goodnight, hon.”
“Goodnight, Golden.”
The earth pony left, leaving Ditzy Doo alone in her small, empty house. For a while, the only sound was the steady “tick-tock” of her clock. The silence was broken by the clatter of Ditzy setting her teacup down.
With a dejected sigh, Ditzy pulled her library book out of her bag and began to read.
Parents often ask me how to get along with their suddenly volatile preteen daughter. It’s a shock when your previously sweet little girl starts throwing tantrums again. Twelve year old girls can be moody, overdramatic, self-centered, focused almost solely on friends, close-mouthed, surly, back-talking and condescending to parents. They can, of course, also be mature, affectionate and delightful, but at their worst they’re a cross between the most challenging aspects of toddlers and teens....