//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 // Story: Nom's Mom Bomb // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Casual-Tea of a Name felt like it should be far more crowded, but it was hardly busy at all. The morning was bitter, the first really bitterly cold day of the coming season, and Chartreuse could only guess that ponies had stayed home. Being a Canterlot pony, she didn’t find it all that bad, as Canterlot could suffer sub-zero temperatures even during the height of summer, if the weather felt like being moody. The only thing colder than the day itself was Chalcedony’s attitude towards the Major. Blind though she might be, Chalcedony stared at the Major, a wide, almost unblinking stare that was unsettling, if not downright uncanny. Chartreuse had cottoned onto why the blind filly was so openly hostile to Nomination’s mother; the crystal filly wanted a family more than anything and the Major had committed the unpardonable sin of being a bad mother. Even worse, the stare seemed to be working, because the Major would not meet Chalcedony’s piercing gaze. Nomination was quite uncomfortable, and sitting between his mother and his friend, he squirmed a great deal while Chalcedony stared past him. The situation seemed bad, bleak, and felt as though it could devolve into actual violence if something were to set it off. Chartreuse saw a side of her friend that she was uncomfortable with. “I wanna know why,” Chalcedony said in icy tones, her first time speaking since their arrival. “Why what?” the Major replied, knowing that she was the one being addressed. “Why. You know why. Don’t you dare play stupid with me. Nom is my friend and he deserves better.” Chartreuse’s stomach was now a butterfly gladiatorial arena and she could feel them in there, fighting one another to the death. Facing a bedroom full of shadowlings would be preferable to this. Getting lectured by Dim would be far more pleasant than this, even if he was in one of his fouler moods. Dim at his worst could at least be counted on to be informative, clear, and concise. This? This just felt murky. “Major—OW! Chalcedony!” Having just been smacked by the blind filly, Nomination turned to look at her while rubbing his foreleg. “She’s your Mom, Nom. Say it.” Chartreuse’s eyes darted left, towards the Major, then right, towards Chalcedony, and then back to the left again. Poor Nomination appeared to be sweating in the middle. Even more curious, Chalcedony was glowing now, her radiance having manifested after smacking the poor colt on his leg and demanding that he call the Major ‘Mom.’ Perhaps this attitude was compelled by magic? Maybe Chalcedony wasn’t entirely to blame for her behaviour? It was fascinating to observe, but also terrible. “She is my Mom, and I’ve said it in the past.” Nomination kept his voice down, but there was a hardness to it now that alarmed Chartreuse. “Major can also be affectionate.” Jaw muscles clenching, Chalcedony shook her head from side to side, disagreeing. “Look, things are different for a reason, okay?” Leaning against the table’s edge, the Major now turned to look right at Chalcedony, or appeared to be through her dark sunglasses. “You are an outsider and there are a great deal of facts that you are ignorant of. But things are the way they are for sound, logical reasons. I appreciate that you are a good friend to my son, but I grow weary of your impertinence.” “So then, help me to understand so I can be a better friend to your son. Put up or shut up. Grow a pair of teats, tell me what is going on, or you can just fronk off.” Reaching out, Chalcedony slipped her forelegs around the colt beside her and pulled him away from his mother. “This is stuff I’m going to have to explain to Nomination anyway at some point.” The Major sighed, defeated, and she hunched over the table. “I’ll give you a sitrep, just give me some time to sort everything out first, because there is a lot to try and go over to make an outsider understand. And given the nature of how things have changed regarding recent developments, it is probably for the best if you do understand a little of what is going on so that you can help my son.” “That’s fair.” With these words, Chalcedony backed down and ceased to stare. Still holding her friend, she slumped over a bit, returning to being her more typical self, laid back and easy going. Taking up a spoon, the Major went to prepare her tea and then froze, her spoon unmoving. This got Chartreuse’s attention and after a moment of study, the quick-minded filly had the reason sorted out. It became rather obvious that this mare had not prepared tea before, and might not have had tea before, because it was a complex social ritual. Therefore, it stood to reason that the Major might not understand the complexities. “Allow me,” Chartreuse said while she pulled the spoon away from the Major. “How do you like your tea?” “I have no idea,” the Major replied. “The table is so covered in… stuff. Things. How does a pony keep track of all of this… detritus?” “We’ll keep it basic then.” Just like that, Chartreuse was a Canterlot pony once more, she became Rarity’s assistant, a filly with poise, grace, and fine manners. “A little cream, a little sugar, and maybe we’ll try different things to see what you like. If you like sweets, I recommend the eclairs.” She pointed at some pastries with the spoon she held. “There are also teacakes that aren’t quite as sweet.” A hot cuppa was prepared in no time at all and then Chartreuse marvelled at the Major’s illusion. Dextrous primaries took the cup, held it, and she gave it a sniff, which made her nostrils flare. The glasses were an extraordinary trinket, practically a crown jewel of enchanted artifacts. Chartreuse felt that a wizard should have an appreciation of these things, because somepony had gone through an immense amount of effort to make this item. No doubt, the Major had a grasping thumb and a central knuckle just like Nomination did, but the illusion was such that it appeared that she had agile, prehensile pegasus feathers. The complexity of it all was mind boggling and it reminded Chartreuse that her craft took many forms. Sunburst combined magic and knowledge. Dim combined magic and alchemy. Shining Armor used statecraft and command enhanced by helpful magic. Some enchanter had poured their soul along with their tremendous knowledge of illusion into a pair of sunglasses. What would be her calling card? What would she be known for? Before her attention span was gone completely, Chartreuse tried to start up a conversation. “So my father works with the military, does he?” “Sort of,” the Major grunted while sniffing her tea. “I can’t talk too much about it. There is a partnership of sorts, a spirit of cooperation. Your father works with the Wardens of Canterlot and there are times when certain cases spill over into the military. Inspector Le Feu is a hound… once he begins a case, it is all over for the perpetrator. It is only a matter of time before he gets his suspect. He will sniff them out and then sometimes, his suspects have valuable knowledge or information that is necessary for us to retrieve. Your father doesn’t take every case offered to him, but once he does take a case, results are guaranteed. He is the only pony I know with a one-hundred percent success rate.” “But he does so by being selective about the cases he takes?” Chartreuse thought about her father’s methodical, over-cautious nature. “Your father seems to know who can be caught and who can’t. Some criminals, you waste resources going after them, and they remain elusive. I don’t know how your father does it, to be honest. It’s like a gift.” The Major took a sip of tea, made a weird face, and then tried another sip. “Bleh, boiled weed water with lactations of lesser hooved mammals.” Eyes darting to Nomination, Chartreuse saw that he was calming down, and she hoped that he was collecting his thoughts. He had a lot to tell the Major, his mother, and Chartreuse intended to make certain that he would be heard. But she would do it in a nice way, at least compared to Chalcedony. Like her father, Chartreuse had found a fight that she knew she could win. Across the table, Nomination began helping Chalcedony with her tea and was unaware when his mother turned to watch him. A careful caretaker, Nomination knew the routine and performed every step without cutting corners or hurrying. It was kindness put in action and a testament to his generous nature. For Chartreuse, it was comforting that his mother noticed. Seeing the Major peer around her son to watch what he was doing was heartwarming. “Nomination was raised in a communal nursery?” Chartreuse asked while she helped herself to an eclair. “I was away,” the Major replied, her voice low, unsteady. “Sometimes for weeks or months at a time. When I was injured and reconstructed, I did not see Nomination for over a year.” “And his father?” Chartreuse wondered what the injury was, but did not pry. “He remains on the front lines in Zebrabwe, thwarting the Great Enemy. There he will remain until such a time that he is utterly and completely destroyed, or the Great Enemy has fallen.” The Major’s head turned for a moment and Chartreuse found herself being looked at. After swallowing a nibble of eclair, Chartreuse said, “Though he was raised in very different circumstances, Nomination is a compassionate pony, quick to help others, and I have complete trust in him as my housemate. He was allowed to be Chalcedony’s assistant because of his dependable, trustworthy nature. Surely you can see the goodness in your son, the evidence of which being that he stays with us.” “I am proud, and it makes what I have to do far easier, Miss Le Feu.” Eyebrows furrowing, Chartreuse wondered what the Major meant by that, but did not press the issue, trusting that things would be sorted out soon enough. Like her father, she decided to pace her prey and allow things to happen. Content enough with the situation, she nibbled once more upon her sweet, sugary treat, and like the Major, watched as Nomination worked. “Nomination… how… did… how did you learn all of this? Our caste was never one for social graces. I mean, we eat out of communal troughs and we forgo everything that isn’t vital or necessary. I am bewildered, but you seem quite comfortable. How is it that you have adapted?” Caste? Chartreuse’s ears pricked whilst she wolfed down the remains of her eclair, an act that she was oblivious of. The always-hungry, ravenous, sweet-loving filly hidden within her was released, let go in a moment of distraction, and another eclair was lifted from the tray. She watched as Nomination finished, guided Chalcedony’s hoof to her teacup, and then he turned to face his mother. “I had to embarrass myself and ask for help,” he said, his voice distressed and squeaky. “Instead of dividing and conquering the enemy, I seperated my problems into manageable groups and tackled them one by one. Finding myself in enemy territory that was outwardly hostile to me, I adapted and kept a low profile. Your lessons benefited me.” “I never understood you, Nomination.” The Major’s voice was husky and little more than a raspy whisper while she spoke to her son. “You hoarded your choco-rations. The Command was certain that it was your draconic nature manifesting, and they worried. Our caste was meant to be free of possessions, our purpose was to weed out the greed that sometimes plagues our kind. But you… you just wanted to save your choco-rations for when you had your berry rations, so that you might combine them. All of us thought you were so strange, and we spoke of you and your strange quirks at length. Most of us did so fondly.” “Mother…” Nomination breathed the word and he began to shake his head. “Mother, I feel that what I am about to say will only make it harder for you to understand me. I am ill-suited to continue the breeding program, as I cannot meet its objectives. “I…”—the colt paused, searching for the right words, and he stared down at the table, unable to look at his mother—“I cannot deal with violence, mother. It makes me ill. Queasy. Sick to my stomach. Also…” At the moment, Nomination did indeed, look rather queasy, and gurgles could be heard emanating from his stomach. Chartreuse worried for him and wondered if he could keep going. Chalcedony was lapping up tea from her cup, but her ears were pivoted in Nomination’s direction. “Mother, I’m pretty sure that I’m gay. I mean, I’m still sorting it all out, and there are confusing moments, like Chartreuse in a Fancy maid outfit, but I have an overwhelming attraction to colts. I am aware that these traits are undesirable, and I am so sorry, Mother. The sequence, your sequence, it ends with me. I am sorry for having done this to you.”