Genealogy - (or the Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi)

by Georg

Chap. 8 - Meet the Families

The Rich family mansion was more a symbol than an actual residence in Ponyville. To Filthy Rich, it said “I am a Rich and Powerful Pony in this small town.”

To the other relatively wealthy inhabitants of the town it said “Phhhtttt!! I’ve got more toys than you!”, and drove them into a futile race to install just one more room, or fountain, or gabled window. Futile, because no matter what addition they constructed, or exotic garden fountain they installed, the Rich’s always regained their lead within a few weeks.

To the various plumbers, roofers, framers, bricklayers, and other practitioners of the construction trades in town, it simply said, “Ka-CHING! Money, money, money. Keep that race a running.”

To Filthy Rich’s daughter, Diamond Tiara, the house neither spoke nor was a symbol; it merely was a place to store her ever-expanding collection of stuff, and to play with her best and only friend Silver Spoon in the music room, bowling alley, arcade, sunroom, library, tennis court, greenhouse, ballroom or the pool.

Which explains why Diamond Tiara was so startled when she was returning from her evening walk and her house suddenly said, “Psst! DT! Over here!”

Diamond Tiara looked suspiciously around the sidewalk for the source of the voice. Without Silver Spoon at school today or afterwards, it had been a very long and trying day, so she had gone out for a brisk evening stroll and quick round of tennis with Ace before bedtime to settle her nerves. The evening sun was making sharp shadows out of the imported yellow forsythia bushes, highlighting the expensive stonework of her father’s huge mansion. Shadows seemed to lurk nearby, awaiting their emergence into the upcoming night, and one bush in particular trembled as if it were being shaken.

“Silver Spoon? Is that you? I thought you were sick. Your father sent a servant with a note to school today saying you had the flu.”

“It’s an emergency! You gotta sneak me in. It’s almost night, and...” Silver Spoon trailed off, only to poke her trembling nose up over the bush and scan the sky. “They will wake up from their lair, and seek the blood of one who has stolen their offspring. You gotta hide me!”

“Well, sheesh. What a drama queen. You know the school play is still a few months away, right?” She trotted through the front door and hoofed the intercom, “Hey Dad! Silver Spoon and I are going to be up in my room!”

A grey blur streaked through the door and zipped up the stairs behind Diamond Tiara, who yawned and made a detour to the kitchen to get a drink of water. After all, it had been a long walk, and there was nothing interesting going on anyway other than Silver’s weekly panic fit.

By the time Diamond Tiara walked to her bedroom, all of the windows had their curtains pulled and there was a quivering lump in the middle of her four-poster bed. “Okay, Silver. What gives? I mean you’re acting like there are monsters attacking the town.” Diamond Tiara paused by the window and took a peek outside, just in case. “There aren’t really monsters attacking the town again, are there?”

“Yes!” The lump in the middle of the bed shivered even more.

“Oh, plu-eeze. If there were monsters out in the town, we would have heard someth— ” Diamond Tiara peeked out the window again. “What was that? I thought I saw something fly by.”

“It’s probably the Evil Spawn of the Dark Ponies, out searching the city for their Stolen Child,” wailed Silver Spoon from under the covers.

“Oh right!” scoffed Diamond Tiara, while still peeking out the window. “That’s just a story we made up to scare the blank flanks. You don’t really—” She cut off in amazement as Silver Spoon pulled the covers back to reveal a dull grey egg about the size of a newborn foal. “It’s real?”

“Apple Bloom snuck back into the library and stole one of their eggs, right out from the nest! She said she was too frightened to take it back to her home, and stuck it in my house. I’ve been trying to keep it warm until I can sneak it back into the library, so the Evil Spawns don’t track me down and turn me into one of them!”

“Why can’t we just throw it away or something?” Diamond Tiara looked around and opened her window. “Here, we can just throw it out into the street and—”

“Nooo!! Scootaloo says if the baby inside dies, its death cry will bring the parents! They’ll sting us and stick eggs inside our bodies just like wasps and we’ll bloat up and the little baby Evil Spawns will eat their way out from our insides!”

“How does Scootaloo know—”

“Her parents fought the creatures once, and they were never the same again.”

Diamond Tiara scoffed, “That’s just stupid. Her parents are— What was that? I saw something outside again.” She pasted herself to the window and peered out into the moonlit darkness. “It looked like a pegasus carriage, but its dark out. Nopony drives around in the nigh—” A second carriage drawn by two batwinged ponies flew by, one of them turning to look in their window with his golden eyes as they passed.

“Aaahhh!!” Diamond Tiara shrieked, and joined Silver Spoon under the covers. “They brought reinforcements!”

The two little fillies peeked out from under the coverers with the monstrous egg between them and asked each other in a whisper. “What are we going to do?”

The heavily-loaded carriage gave a hefty thump as they descended through the natural updraft surrounding Ponyville, setting up for a simple landing next to the library. Pumpernickel grudgingly admitted that the town did seem to be a bit more lively after dark now that there were more Night Guards on duty. There was even a light on in the largest mansion on the hill, although it went out almost immediately after the carriage passed. He pulled the carriage around in an arc as they descended to land, having to land a distance away from the library because of the other half-dozen carriages scattered around the giant tree. From the looks of things, they had all been sitting in one place for quite awhile already this evening, and the line was not proceeding forward at all.

A thin, whiny voice spoke up from the inside of their carriage, “What’s goin’ on up there? Why have we stopped?”

His fellow driver called back over his shoulder, “Grandma, we’re here. But there’s a line.”

“Well send Popinjay or Potpourri or whatever his name is up to find out what’s holding up the line. It’s cold out here. Bring me a blanket.”

“Go on,” murmured his cousin as they unhitched themselves, “I’ll deal with the old biddy.”

He forced himself to relax as he plodded through the grass, walking quietly besides the other Night Pegasi wagons and carriages lined up patiently in front of the library.

Why am I worried? She must know my family will be bringing their Book to Twilight Sparkle. If she’s uncomfortable with me being here, she can just step out of the room for a minute and never has to even look at me. Besides, I’m just going to look in the door to see what is holding up the line. I don’t have to see her. I don’t want to see her.

The allure of wrapping himself up in pity had begun to pale during the flight. The pain of exercise had always made him feel better, but his partially-healed bruises and burns made him more than happy to step away from the pressure of the harness for a few minutes. So why was he walking so slowly?

His steps slowed even more as he passed through the last of the waiting Night Pegasus families with their wagons and carriages, each with their own copy of the family Book of Tradition securely tucked inside. The chill that permeated his coat and brought painful goose pimples across the bandages on his back had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. Each wagon held a number of family elders, varying in age and general crankiness depending on the family. Each elder was looking at the Golden Oaks Library with different degrees of hostility; some seemed willing to chop it down, some seemed to be thinking of a match.

Outside the library door were two of Laminia’s Night Guard detail, a white pegasus and a grey unicorn, both wearing Luna’s colors and standing perfectly still in their proper guard pose, but somehow managing to radiate an aura of wishing they were somewhere else. And when he heard the strident voice coming from inside the library, he understood why.

“...don’t understand why Princess Luna would ever select you as her Hoofmaiden. You never knew your proper place when you were growing up, always whining and complaining. Limping around our house like some crippled duck, you were the shame of our entire family! Now you expect us to come to you, groveling on our bellies because you somehow have managed to trick Princess Luna into giving a crippled failure some meaningless job! I will not stand for this, and neither will any other proper family! The insult to the Night Pegasus honor will not stand, Princess Luna should know better than to have us turn over our precious Books of Tradition to a unicorn and a crip—”

It was strange how he first noticed the middle-aged Night Pegasus who was berating Laminia had a faint streak of blue down his mane; it shimmered in the library lighting as if it were metallic. He had never really noticed until now that Laminia had a faint echo of that same streak. He could see it through her entire mane and tail as she stood emotionlessly in front of her relative, probably an Uncle or Cousin. Slipstream, that was his name. Pumpernickel had seen his picture in the Academy long-distance flight record holder’s book; that little streak of blue was as distinctive on a Night Pegasus as if his whole body had been covered in a rainbow mane. The stallion’s voice was not strong and powerful as he had imagined it. Slipstream squeaked when he was excited, and when he made a splintering crash into the back wall of the library with Pumpernickel’s hooves at his throat, he made a very loud squeak indeed.

Books rained down on both of their heads, along with more than a few fragments of broken shelves and Pumpernickel heard his own rasping voice snarl with deadly intent, “Excuse me, I don’t think I quite heard you quite right. What did you just call Princess Luna’s personally selected Hoofmaiden? Because if you were to insult my Princess, I might just get a little angry. I might lose my temper, and crush your head like a tick. So, would you care to rephrase your words?”

The arrogant stallion that was berating Laminia seemed to crumple in on himself, or maybe that was just the aftereffect of being slammed backwards into the library bookshelf. He licked his lips nervously, and glanced behind Pumpernickel’s broad shoulders, looking futilely for some assistance from the rest of the family who had begun to back cautiously for the door about the same time Slipstream had been sent crashing into the bookshelf. “W-who are you?”

Pumpernickel released his hold on the frightened Night Pegasus and let him slump to the floor. “Stay there,” he commanded. “I’ll be right back.” He turned his back and stalked out of the library, across the open plaza and in the direction of the boutique.

The thump, thump, thump of his steel-shod hooves on the dirt path kept him focused, he had to keep his focus, he absolutely had to keep his focus before he did something he most probably would regret. The flutter of feathered wings from above did not even make him look until Redoubtable landed right beside him and fell into lockstep, his newly re-shod hooves falling in perfect rhythm just as they had done so many times walking punishment drills together back on the Academy parade ground.

“Hey, Lumpy. I was sorta hanging out in the window. You were holding out on us at the Academy. I thought you were going to break that jerk in half.”

“The night is young,” he rasped before wrestling his emotions back under control. “That was her family, right?”

step, step, breathe, step

“Yep. They’d been going after her for about a half-hour in rotation when you showed. I kept expecting her to melt into the floor or explode. Pinfeathers, I would have clocked him after the first sentence. You going to beat ‘em up?”

“Yeah.” step, step, breathe, step

He stopped at the door to the Carousel Boutique and took one last deep breath to firm his nerves. “I’m going to beat his tiny little fossilized head in with something he has to respect. Authority. Come on, you’re invited.”

“Cool breezes. What are we doing?”

“First we’re going to get both of us dressed for the part.”

Five minutes later, the two mismatched Royal Guards left the boutique. Pumpernickel was resplendent in the dark purple formal uniform Laminia had created, every button gleaming, his cuffs tucked back with shining amethyst cufflinks and his silver rank bars on the sharp peaked cap carefully aligned.

Beside him strode Redoubtable with head held high, in a matching uniform that should have been impossible. Pumpernickel had watched it being made, and he still thought it was impossible. But Rarity had done it, by herself, in less than five minutes, including an entire two minutes worth of ranting and railing about how impossible it was going to be.

It was not simply a reversed image of the Night Pegasus uniform. Where Laminia’s design had softened for the dark, Rarity’s design fairly blazed with light. Instead of the delicate, understated silver piping across the chest, the creamy white uniform worn by the white pegasus had a thick gold braid; instead of the pebbly silver buttons of Luna’s Guard, this uniform had shiny, smooth golden buttons the size and shape of bits(*). Only the cream-colored cap maintained the same exact shape, with golden rank bars and just the slightest rakish tilt.

“Lumpy! What in Celestia’s name are we doing?” whispered Redoubtable out of the side of his mouth as they left the boutique and fell into lockstep on their way back to the library.

“Exactly,” he whispered back. “You are representing Celestia, and I’m representing Luna, and between the two of us, we’re—”

“Going to get court-martialed. These aren’t even uniforms.”

“Yes they are. They are made at the direct orders of Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria, and therefore uniforms. Now put on your Royal Guard face and play along.”

Redoubtable spared a sideways glance at Pumpernickel’s stony face as they marched. “This really isn’t just for your marefriend, is it?”

“No,” said Pumpernickel with a growl. “This is a matter of honor. Her honor.”

“Ten-HUT!”

Pumpernickel had intentionally waited until just the right moment as the two pegasi had marched up to the line outside the library; the right moment being defined as the moment one of the waiting Night Pegasi had opened his mouth and stepped forward with a question. It was satisfying to see just how spinal a reflex the Royal Guard training was. All up and down the waiting line, Night Pegasi braced into stiff attention as if their Princess were about to appear, not just a couple of wounded guards on sick leave.

He strode into the library and right up to Slipstream, who had used his five minutes of time to get properly prepared for Pumpernickel’s return. However, the appearance of two uniformed Royal Guards, one dark, one light, threw his mind for a loop from which neither Royal Guard had any intent of letting him recover.

Pumpernickel saluted, a crisp knife-like movement in his dark uniform which he was pleased to see triggered the same visceral response in both of the other male Night Pegasi in the room. “Pumpernickel of the Royal Guard, Optio of the Night Division, Personal Guard of the Princess, reporting for duty at the command of Princess Luna’s Hoofmaiden!”

Beside him, Redoubtable snapped a perfectly identical salute in his shining white uniform and barked out as prompted, “Redoubtable of the Royal Guard, Specialist of the Day Division, Personal Guard of the Princess, reporting for duty at the command of Princess Luna’s Hoofmaiden!”

The befuddled pony saluted rather poorly, “Slipstream, Sergeant of the Royal Guard, Retired. I don’t know what—”

“Have you brought your family’s Book of Tradition, as commanded by Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria?”

“Well, yes. But—”

“Have your bearers bring it in and place it in the back of the library. Twilight Sparkle, personal protégé of Princess Celestia, will document the Book, and provide you a receipt. Next!”

At that moment, a cold lump formed in his gut as he realized the bluff was going to fail. Slipstream paused, his eyes darting back and forth between the two mismatched guards. All it would take was for the upset stallion to turn around and leave, and the whole thing would collapse. The Academy had been quite direct on that subject: Never give an order that you knew was going to be disobeyed. The Princess had given an order, and the families of the Nocturne were about to throw it back in her face. It would be a horrible mess, with screaming and charges, but the easiest way to bury the whole thing and save face would be to dump it on the backs of two overzealous young fools.

Then Slipstream looked back over Pumpernickel’s shoulder at where Laminia was standing. It only took him a moment, but for that moment Pumpernickel could feel the cold chill begin to creep through the rest of his body, only to warm back up as the older guard saluted. This was not the sloppily salute of just a few moments ago, but a razor-sharp salute every bit suited for the presence of both Princesses.

“Do as he says. We serve the Princess.” A pair of young Night Pegasi brought in the rather large chest where their family Book was stored. They carefully moved the wooden chest to the back of the library room, and Twilight Sparkle marked them off a checklist as they picked up their receipt and departed coldly without a backwards glance.

As the night wore on, one Nocturne family after another brought their Book of Tradition into the library, were properly greeted, and left with a receipt. The pile of chests grew, eventually covering the entirety of the first floor and part of the second before there was a pause in the line of families, and Redoubtable poked his head outside.

“All done, I guess. Nopony is out there, as far as I can see.”

“Not yet, but take a quick breather. We’re well over half-way done according to my checklist.” Twilight Sparkle plunked down on the floor and rubbed her horn. “I never thought I’d say this, but I almost wish that were all of the books. The preservation spell on the chests must be Traditional too. Anything inside should be nearly as fresh as the day it was written.” She glanced over at Laminia. “So how are you doing?”

Pumpernickel did not dare to look. He had positioned himself so his back was to the Night Pegasus mare all night, and kept his Royal Guard face on constantly. Some portion of his mind wanted to turn around and look at her beautiful face, while the intelligent portion held him back and kept him pointed away. She was broken, there was no use breaking her any more.

“I’m fine,” was the only thing Laminia said. It was the only thing he had heard her say all night, and it lit a fire in his soul that took great effort to extinguish. She doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need me. Then another Night Pegasus family arrived outside the library and he thankfully returned to the protective embrace of his duty.

Luna’s moon had passed and Celestia’s sun had risen high in the sky by the time the last Night Pegasus family arrived, a full set of warm winter furs set to one side of their open sled showing the great distance they had traveled. He had started redirecting the arriving families to the town hotel quite a few hours ago, assuming a nice, quiet days rest in a magically silenced room was much preferable to having an older Night Pegasus die of exposure or over-work on their long return trips back to their families.

He had no idea where Twilight Sparkle had found the comprehensive listing of families, or how she had managed to keep track of which Book went where, but after the last Night Pegasus family went out to their sled, she announced with a giant smile, “Done! Everypony out, I’m locking the door and sleeping ‘til tonight.”

Redoubtable gave a sleepy salute and left by the library window, but as Pumpernickel turned to leave, there was a sharp tug on his sleeve.

“Hey Lumpy. You gave away my room at the hotel, didn’t you?”

It took a lot of willpower, but he managed to not look at Laminia. He settled for nodding carefully.

“Probably. I sent a few families up there.” A glance around the library showed chests with Books stacked up to three deep in places. “Quite a few, I think.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping upstairs without some company. Come on, lets get you out of that outfit before you wrinkle it.” She grabbed Pumpernickel by the collar and began to lead him up the stairs.

(*) The buttons were exactly the size and weight of bits to be precise, except for the holes for the thread. Later versions of the uniform were supposed to be made with actual buttons instead of drilling holes in bits, but once a tradition starts, it becomes very difficult to stop.