Letters From a Little Princess Monster
New Life, New Lives, New Friends - Part Two
Summer Wrap-Up.
It was Ponyville’s biggest festival, except the others, of course.
There were booths to buy things and contests to win things and demonstrations of things only vaguely related to buying, such as Sapphire Shores and her backup singers on a float. The concept of a float enticed Monster, because it did not float, and if placed in water, would certainly sink rather quickly, in fact, much like a real sink. And after all of the contests and dancing was over, there was going to be fireworks across the river with every store and business having contributed to the collection of skyfire.
This year, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were determined to add to the festivities with a giant catapult full of fireworks, if only their first task would get done.
“We gots most of the ingredients on Trixie’s list for gumbo,” said Featherweight, who had been assigned list-carrying duties. “I don’t think we’re ever going to get any shrimp around here, though, without a trip to the ocean, and that could take a day.”
“Trixie thaid we could usth twith ath many crayfith,” said Twist, who was carrying the bucket. She splashed down the stream, following the rest of the crusaders and their rock turning-over and crayfish hunting. “Any luck?”
“Got one!” declared Sweetie Belle. She lit up her magic and floated one of the clawed crustaceans out of the water, only to take a step back when it erupted in flames. “Oh, darn.”
“Again?” said Scootaloo. She hunched over a rock and flipped it to one side, then used her hoof to splash the escaping crawfish up onto the bank. “Got one!” she declared right before it scuttled back into the water.
“Arrgh!” shouted Apple Bloom, who lifted her head up and tossed it around with one crayfish still clinging to her nose. “Getitoff! Getitoff!” Once the nose-pinching creature had been removed, she shook her head and looked in the bucket. “Well, that’s… One.”
Monster held up a crushed crustacean nearly the thickness of a sheet of paper. “Two. Kinda. It surprised me.”
“Eww,” declared Diamond Tiara, who was ankle-deep in the water, but unwilling to turn over the rock she was prodding. “Why does she want bugs in her soup anyway?”
“They’re not bugs,” said Peep Sprout, who was wearing a unicorn disguise today so he did not have to actually pick up the clawed creatures. “They’re… um… like clams or something, I think.”
“They’re crustaceans,” said Snails. He and his best friend Snips came splashing down the stream from the other side. “We found a bunch of them over by the fallen tree and filled up our bucket. How many have you guys found yet?”
* * *
“Done,” declared Monster, putting the two sloshing buckets of clawed fury down on the floor of the library kitchen. “And Twist has the rest of your list unpacked on the table.”
“Are you really going to cook those, Miss Trixie?” asked Snails.
“Yes,” snapped Trixie, who was going through the collection of pots in the kitchen, checking them for size and apparent thumpablility from the noise. “Spike! I’m going to need your help shucking the crawfish.”
The little dragon poked his nose in the room, took a good long look at the way Trixie was obsessing over the pots and pans, and whispered to the young observers.
“Run, save yourself. I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s gone a little nuts since she got that letter from her parents.”
Monster cringed, but Spike was right there, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’s just going to cook up a storm. For her parents and her grandfather.” He scratched his chin. “You know, I’ve never met them. She gets letters from them every once in a while, but she won’t let me read them.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t need our help?” asked Sweetie Belle.
In the other room, the huge dragon still stuck in the doorway of the library carefully extended one clawed hand over the book she was reading.
“I… don’t think so,” said Spike, gently chasing all of the young students out of the kitchen. “Go have fun at the festival.”
~ ~ ✶ ~ ~
Luna was having the most fun at the Ponyville festival, because Celestia was happy, and she was happy, and Big Mac had the most adorable air of perplexion that she had ever seen since her return. Having him escort both of them to the festival had been a stroke of genius, due to the jealous looks they were getting from the mares in town to the astonished expressions from the stallions. The three of them visited the library, of course, chatted with the delightful dragon still sticking out of the front door, and peeked into the library kitchen, where Trixie was doing some sort of arcane alchemy with pots and the most delicious smells.
All the while, they could see the curious noses of the local students, poking around corners and tracing their every move.
“Our young friends are certainly enjoying our visit,” quipped Luna as the three of them hustled to the next festival experience. “We shall engage in battle with the pies while you go speak with their leader. It does not seem fair that they are not free to frolic.”
“Sounds fair, Lulu.” Celestia gave Big Mac a discreet kiss on the lips and nudged him toward Luna. “I only wish I could lick him clean afterward.”
“My word,” said Luna with an infectious giggle, “the citizens of this fair town would be scandalized! That is a pleasure which will wait for the night, with the fireworks and the quiet seeking of dark corners. Don’t you agree, Mac?”
Big Mac made a scrambled noise which might have been interpreted as, “Eyup.”
It was a joyous sensation to dance with the young stallion’s affections one last time. Ever since Luna and Celestia had discovered their mutual passionate interest in him, they had enjoyed the attention, even though it was destined to fade away. The farm stallion would be miserable in Canterlot, and neither of the princesses could possibly move to Ponyville. Although brief visits were mutually enjoyable, it would be unfair to him. Mac deserved to be set free with his own kind, fall in love, and raise his own family under the apple trees of his ancestors.
And judging from the looks the trio had gathered tonight, there was already a line forming in the shadows, waiting impatiently for their own shot at the handsome big apple.
Luna gave her sister a quick nuzzle before taking Big Mac in the direction of the pie eating contest, but she left behind a starmote of energy in her flowing mane so she could watch over her shoulder. Celestia was such a dear, but her knowledge of children was so lacking.
Little Twilight Sparkle looked up to Celestia with big violet eyes, explaining that all of her young friends were worried about Big Mac, most particularly his little sister. Apple Bloom had the most adorable story about what would happen if both princesses married him that Luna had to stifle a giggle against Big Mac’s side.
It would be so unfair to him, the honest farm pony dropped into the seething mire of Canterlot politics. That special spark he possessed would undoubtedly change, the twinkle in his eyes dim, and that special thing he did when… well, that probably would not change. Luna wished she could sweep him away and raise a family as numerous as the stars, but it could never happen. Alicorns her age were barren, and her opportunity to raise a brood of her own was many centuries in the past.
Of course, she could still have fun.
And sometime later at the pie eating contest, surrounded by the debris of several empty pie tins, Princess Luna was still grinning.
~ ~ ✶ ~ ~
Filigree was starting to hate trains. They were noisy, swayed as they traveled, and only went where and when they wanted to go. At least her destination of Ponyville was going to be reached before Filthy Rich’s wedding to that tramp, so she could lurk around the back of the party like some bloated balloon, and maybe get the opportunity to… she was not sure.
Nothing was sure anymore, ever since that first letter had arrived and she fled Manehattan. Her entire world had turned upside-down, the daughter she thought long lost had been found, the lover she had fled was getting married to another. And another jab from a small hoof inside her belly reminded her not so gently of the other way her world had been turned around.
“You still have a week,” she muttered, pacing her rolling gait with the motion of the train as she stalked in the direction of the sleepers. There were very few passengers on this route so early, allowing Filigree to pick out her own sleeper, but when she slid the door open and stepped inside, there was already an elderly earth pony sitting in the exact seat she had wanted. Rather than grumble some sort of apology and move to the next compartment, she plunked her tired rear down on the other side and glared.
“Mornin’ Ma’am,” said the elderly stallion, barely opening his brown eyes enough to look at her. “Scuse me if’n I’m not very talkative on the trip.”
“Well… I really didn’t want to talk either,” said Filigree, knocked off her pace by the response that she had wanted to give first. “I’m just headed to Ponyville, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Same here,” he said in a long breath much like a sigh. “Started there, probably going to end there.”
“I’ve never been there before,” she admitted. “And I’m leaving right after.”
“That’s peculiar.” The old stallion looked up, his face a maze of wrinkles in his aged yellow hide that might have at one time been the bright yellow of a ripe pear, like his cutie mark. “Ain’t got much for landmarks there, particularly anything that’d attract tourists, lessen you’re going there for the Summer Wrap-Up Festival.”
“In a way.” Filigree thought about the wedding invitation she had crammed in her saddlebag and fought back a scowl. “Turns out I left something there, and I just wanted to go say goodbye.”
“More like somepony, if’n I see correctly.” The elderly stallion stuck out a dry hoof. “Name’s Gran Pear, of the Vanhoover Pear family.”
“Filigree,” she responded back automatically. “Of… nowhere, really.”
“Nowhere?” Mister Pear gave out a low chuckle. “Explains why you’re headed to Ponyville. Your young stallion run away from you and the foal?”
“No.” Filigree’s face twisted up into a scowl. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough.” The old stallion leaned back in the seat and looked as if he were going to take a nap. “I wouldn’t have no good advice for you anyway. I done messed up the lives of my own kin enough without dragging anypony else down too.”
“You didn’t run away from your own foal,” grumbled Filigree.
“That I did and more,” said Gran Pear, but nothing else.
After a period of time listening to the train clatter down the rails, Filigree shifted uncomfortably in her seat and regarded the unborn foal in her belly. “I suppose I can listen,” she said after a while. “How did you screw up your foal’s life? Abandon her at birth?”
“Nope.” Gran Pear let out a brief snort. “Raised her the way I thought was right, kept her away from anyponies I thought would hurt her, like those durned Apples. Turns out she was seeing that Apple colt behind my back anyway, and when I gave her the choice between following him or staying with her family when we moved to Vanhoover…”
He did not say anything more for a while, but looked out the window at a passing pear grove. When he did start back up, his low raspy voice was nearly inaudible. “Thought for sure she’d follow. Young ‘uns fight, after all, and we were the only family she knew, so when they had their inevitable brew-up, she’d come a runnin’ back to her father. We’re both too damned stubborn, I suppose, but now she’s gone and he’s gone, and I’m all that’s left. ‘Cept the kids, of course. Three of the best-looking, strongest ponies you ever did see.”
The old stallion seemed to swell up, and a few decades faded away from his wrinkled face. “One of them turned out to be an Element of Harmony and helped save Princess Luna, too. Applejack. It may be an Apple name, but there’s a lot of Pear in that mare. Got her mother’s smile, that’s for sure.”
“Sis,” murmured Filigree, thinking back to the blur of faces and emotions poured into the letters she was carrying. “Bloom and Mac.”
“Apple Bloom and Big McIntosh,” confirmed Gran Pear, but in a few moments, the joyous expression on his face faded, and he was once again an old, wrinkled stallion with a petulant frown. “How am I supposed to tell them what a damned fool I was, anyway?”
“You told me,” prompted Filigree. “The first pony you tell is the most difficult. Otherwise, you just bottle up your mistakes behind walls of lies and evasion until—”
She took a deep breath and regarded her swollen belly. At least this little pony would not be born in lies and deception by a frightened mother fleeing shadows.
“I was a young mare attending business school in Baltimare when I met Filthy Rich. He was so strong and decisive. Smart. Handsome, too. He wanted to graduate, make his mark in industry, leave his hometown behind. He let me know in no uncertain terms that he would not marry until he was ready, and I thought the same.”
Filigree ran one hoof over her swollen belly. “Then we got a little carried away.” Gran Pear snorted quietly, but she kept going. “I… lost my head. Ran away. I couldn’t hurt a defenseless foal, so I gave her up for adoption. I wanted to go back to him. Pretend the foal never existed. I wanted to, but I couldn’t lie to Richy. The foal was gone. He was gone. So I ran some more.”
She wiped away a series of tears which threatened to get out of control while Gran Pear nodded. “The problem with runnin’ is you eventually gotta stop. And when you run in a circle, you find yourself back where you started, only tired.”
“I’m so tired of being tired.” Filigree leaned forward, only to find the old stallion’s shoulder under her chin. He was warm, compassionate, and knew the pain she had been through, so the bulwarks of emotional screening Filigree had been holding washed away in a flood of tears. It was so degrading but she could not help herself. Before she knew it, she found herself being held by the old stallion and patted on the back as if she were a foal.
“Now, now,” he said. “Let it out.”
It was humiliating, but the old stallion kept patting her on the back until all of her tears had passed, and the patterned kerchief he loaned her was soggy with snot. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed, pulling herself back into a semblance of order. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Sounds like you’ve been keeping it corked up inside for a long time.” The old stallion patted her on the foreleg and refused the soggy kerchief. “No, you keep that.”
“Are you in here, Miss Filigr—” Flash Sentry paused at the sliding door into the compartment, holding a tray of breakfast buns on one hoof. “I’ll… go get you some tissues.” The courier vanished as quickly as he had arrived, leaving the buns on the table.
“He’s not mine,” said Filigree quickly. “He’s a Royal Courier. I’m just borrowing him until I meet my daughter.”
“Your daughter?” The old stallion rooted around in his luggage and came out with a jar of pear butter, which he slathered over one of the breakfast buns. “It sounds like you have a lot more to say, and I’m willing to listen.”
By the time they reached Ponyville, they had gone through three jars.
~ ~ ✶ ~ ~
Sunset over Ponyville did not signal the end of Summer Wrap-Up, but it did normally establish a pause where the concentration of ponies shifted from the games and booths to the upcoming fireworks show.
Today was different.
There were so many things to fit in the afternoon that several of the ponies in town made subtle comments to Celestia about how it might be really appreciated to hold the sun up for just a little longer. There were more booths, more games, and the special guest star of the float parade loved to get out with the ponies watching and dance up a storm.
Figurative only. Rainbow Dash made sure no real storms got anywhere near the festival.
Even Trixie’s parents had shown up, a cheery yellow unicorn mare and a cheerful blue pegasus stallion, both of whom really did not seem very Trixie-like. Monster had not really expected either of them, but since Trixie had locked the doors to the library in a fit of culinary angst, the Crusaders had taken on the task of showing them around town.
Then the preparations for the sunset wedding of Filthy Rich and Spoiled Milk had driven everypony out of the town hall a few hours ahead of schedule, spreading a little chaos through the organized schedules.
Princess Celestia had been asked to officiate at the wedding, which she politely had declined. Then Princess Luna had likewise been asked, and also turned down the groom. That left Trixie, who was still locked in the library.
Or at least until the library back door rattled with the impact of a heavy hoof.
“Mom! Dad! What a surprise!” Trixie swept the library door open and stood there, frozen. The dark magenta earth pony mare standing there bore no resemblance to her cheery yellow unicorn mother, most particularly due to the enormous girth that indicated she was either intensely pregnant or really fat. There was a certain dangerous angle to her expression that spelled out just how tired she was after her long trip, and how she was looking to take out her frustrations on the nearest librarian.
“Where’s Twilight Sparkle?” snapped the mare.
Trixie looked past the frazzled mare at Flash Sentry, who simply shrugged, providing all of the assistance that she had grown accustomed to. The frazzled impulses of cooking all morning and afternoon along with worries about her parents had given Trixie a sense of acute perception that could have detected the motion of a gnat at a hundred paces, regardless of the presence of the gnat, but she did remember—
“Oh, you’re the guest that Twilight was talking about yesterday,” said Trixie in one rapid breath. “Flash, go get Twilight. Now,” she added when the young courier opened his mouth instead of his wings. “Ma’am, if you would come inside for—”
Her eyes skittered sideways to the immense bulk of Vorel’aurix-levethuix Maekrix-book-rasvim’s head, which was regarding both ponies with a dispassionate gaze that certainly was not good for pregnant mares. The kitchen was full of dirty dishes and simmering stewpots, the rest of the ground floor was a disorganized mess with books all over the place, which only left…
“I’m sure you’re tired from your trip, Ma’am. If you’ll come with me, you can rest in the Librarian’s private quarters until Twilight Sparkle gets here,” she added with a fierce glare at Flash Sentry, who had not left yet. “This way please.”
Trixie turned to escort the pregnant mare up the stairs, and managed to use her magic to slam the back door in Flash Sentry’s face when he tried to ask one last dumb question.
~ ~ ✶ ~ ~
There was enough time before the ceremony for Filthy Rich to make one more attempt at having a Princess preside over his wedding, rather than… Trixie. At least the showmare was sober for a change and had been ferociously busy over at the library cooking, of all things.
Actually, now that he had a chance to think about it, Filthy Rich had not seen Trixie drunk in months. Not even when the job of Mayor pro tem had been dropped around her neck. Admittedly, she had vanished for a few weeks after that, and returned with the most pecular library patron. But the office of Mayor had proceeded along without a hitch, getting the Summer Wrap-Up Festival organized and the entertainment lined up. There had been some additional assistance needed from the Town Council, as well as Rarity’s influence to get Sapphire Shores to perform, but the expected fireball of bourbon had not materialized.
He had to admit, he was not looking forward to the wedding. Spoiled Milk was, and made no excuses about showing it. So he went along, smiled at the right spots, and signed the checks, which was about what he expected out of the next few years. Diamond Tiara would have a mother, and that was the important part of this, but even his daughter seemed twitchy, and looked out into the crowd constantly as if she were looking for somepony else, anypony else other than the mother she would have by this evening.
“Hello, Princess Celestia. Princess Luna. Big Mac.” Filthy Rich lowered himself to one knee. “I would be deeply appreciative if Your Highnesses would reconsider. This is a very important wedding in our town, and it deserves to have the most important pony presiding over it.”
“You do,” said Celestia in her immeasurably patient voice. “My faithful student is after all the Mayor pro tem of Ponyville, and the leader of the Elements of Harmony. She will do the job well, and—”
The smallest flicker of annoyance showed on Her Highness’ expression when she turned to a Royal Courier, who had landed nearby and was attempting to communicate something by way of flexible facial expressions. “One moment please, Lieutenant Sentry.”
Diamond Tiara practically whirled around on her own tail and darted over to the young guardstallion, blurting out, “Is she here? Is she here!”
“Miss Filligree’s over at the library,” said Flash. “But—”
Diamond Tiara darted away so rapidly that even Scootaloo would have been jealous. Filthy Rich stared, mouth agape, then his eyes traced a path up to the Royal Equestrian Courier Service hat on Flash’s head, then down to the cowering form of Twilight Sparkle. “Did you say…?”
He could not say any more words, but Twilight’s brief nod made his heart leap in his chest.
“She asked,” said Twilight Sparkle.
But Filthy Rich was no longer there. He was running as fast as he could in the direction of the Ponyville Library.