//------------------------------// // Chap. 13 - Getting Lucky // Story: Genealogy - (or the Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi) // by Georg //------------------------------// Genealogy - (or The Mating Habits of Nocturnes Pegasi) Getting Lucky The dream was the same dream she had almost every night. She sat at the same seat at the same seedy bar, drinking the same drink while the evening rush of business ponies and trade workers crowded into the bar drank their drinks and told the same stories they told every night. Somewhere in the back of the bar, an argument over a card game threatened to spill over into a group arguing hoofball statistics, while a group of posturing business ponies discussed the rise and fall of the market with increasing volume as their bar tab grew. The muffled clink of bits and glasses punctuated the low susurrus of voices until a stallion slid onto the seat next to hers. They always used the same line: “Pardon me miss, but are you old enough to be in here?” She would giggle, and explain how Night Pegasi aged differently than other ponies, how they maintained their youthful appearance until they had their first foal. It was a load of used hay, but they always bought it, and bought a drink for her also. They would admire her hooded cloak that she always wore to hide her crippled wing and lack of a cutie mark, and remark at the little ribbons she had tied in her mane. They would talk about little things, make little jokes, drink. And in the end, she would stumble off with him to a nearby hotel, where they would— Laminia wrenched her head away from the bar, nearly knocking over her drink in the process. The green-coated business pony with the four-leaf clover cutie mark looked no different than he had any other night’s dream, but now her heart was pounding in fear. He continued to rattle on about derivatives and margin calls while she trembled on the seat. Whatever air the ceiling fans were pushing around seemed to deflect away from her flanks as if it could not stand to be around her and the feeling of cold sweat began to drip down her cloak in frozen little rivulets. Something was wrong. The stallion would always be a perfect gentlecolt while in the bar; nodding and smiling at her little jokes while repeating the same jokes she had heard over and over. Sometimes they would be nervous, buying her more drinks than she could possibly choke down, but mostly they just kept to a schedule like some finely crafted timepiece. She could always tell when the first hour had gone by, because they always used the same line: “It’s awfully hot in here. Can we step out and get some air?” She would stumble and fall slightly on the way out of the bar, he would nobly catch her and help her back to her hooves. They would laugh, and it would be an excuse to remain leaning against each other for support all the way out of the bar and to whatever hotel or room the stallion had. It never was a five-star hotel with golden fixtures; it always seemed to be a Econostall or Best Stables on good nights, some pest-infested sleazy hotel without a name on bad nights. So many of them were bad nights. They would stumble up to the room. He would fumble with the keys. The hotel hallway seemed to swim around Laminia as the green-coated businesspony finally managed to unlock the room door. He pushed the door open and leaned in the doorway, gently coaxing her into a room that was in desperate need of a whole fleet of maids, armed with the latest in disinfectants and with a week or more to work. She had never fainted in a hotel room from the smell before. Passed out, yes, fainted, no. The taste of lime water and carrot juice rose in her throat as she bolted for the tiny apartment bathroom and began to vomit into the filthy toilet. “Can I get you anything?” The voice from outside the bathroom door was plaintive and thready, undercut with the expectation that perhaps the very small bathroom that she was monopolizing was also needed for a second pony in the apartment who had drank entirely more than he should have. Spasms shook her to the very core of her being, and she tried to vomit away every feeling of inferiority and resentment that infested the dark corners of her heart. Unfortunately, it was only a toilet. She stood after a while, avoiding whatever clung to the grey towels by wiping her face on the back of her foreleg. Noises from the other room had ceased. If she was lucky, the drunk stallion would have passed out already in a pile of his own vomit and urine. The faint ripping noises when she moved her hooves on the sticky bathroom floor made her mane stand up on end and she shuddered at the thought of finding out she was wrong, that he was eagerly awaiting her emergence from the small bathroom. “Why am I doing this again? This part of my life is over. I don’t want to be here any more.” She lifted her eyes from the grossly adhesive floor, past the stained and hairy sink, to look into the mirror. And screamed. It was not her reflection in the spotty and distorted bathroom mirror, but Princess Luna, looking very upset. “We need to talk.” The bathroom door fairly exploded open as Laminia bolted away, dashing through the apartment like a shot and out the door only to come to a skidding halt as she galloped at full speed back into the crowded bar. All of the stallions sat at their same tables, drinking their same drinks, and totally ignoring the frantic Nocturne mare who had just dashed into the front door of the bar at full speed. “What the...” She went back to the front door of the bar, cautiously cracking it open to peek outside, only to slam it closed again after a brief and panic-filled look. “This isn’t happening to me.” “I’m afraid it is. I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I can get through to you.” Luna’s voice was soft but persistent in the back of Laminia’s head, and the Night Pegasus glanced frantically around the bar, looking for the Princess. Only the green-coated business pony at the bar seemed to recognize her existence, raising his glass to her in a salute before she darted back out the bar’s front door at high speed. Shock caused her to come to a screeching halt as she bolted into the dingy apartment again, the same sleeping green pony sprawled out across the leporously-spotted bed like some sort of murder victim who still gurgled and drooled on the sheets. “Why are you forcing me to be here!” she cried, looking up at the ceiling. “Why do you hate me this much? Just let me go, leave me alone!” “Your mind controls your own dream. I tried to move you several times, but the dream always returns here. On some level, you want to be here. Why?” Luna’s voice surrounded her as if she were standing right behind Laminia. The distraught Night Pegasus flung herself out of the apartment door, trying to leave the sleeping stallion and the soft voice behind, only to wind up standing in the bar again. This time there was no business pony drinking at the bar, only a rusty-red earth pony with a flowing coppery mane that swirled and curled like an untamed river. Laminia collapsed on the sticky bar floor in tears and hid her eyes behind a foreleg. “No. Oh, please no! Not him!” “Your adoptive father, Rusty Pin,” said Luna from behind her. “This would be where you first met. In this bar. Did you lift your tail to him also?” “NO!” Laminia lashed out behind her with both hind hooves and whipped around with a snarl to scream at the empty air of the bar. “It’s not like that!” No voice replied to her outcry. No Princess appeared, nothing changed in the bar, her words had no effect. “Pardon me, young Miss. Does your mother know you’re here?” Those were the exact words Rusty Pin had said to her years ago in this very bar. It even sounded like him. She looked up at Rusty, or at least the image of Rusty in her dream and wanted to snap at him. Wanted to, but was unable to muster the venom at the image of the proud stallion who had taken her into his own family and workplace. She settled for muttering, “Princess, this won’t work. Go away.” “That’s not what you said that night. You told me that your mother knew just exactly where you were and was perfectly happy with it.” She looked up into his twinkling amber eyes with a hiccup in her heart. “And, if I recall correctly, you asked me politely to vacate the seat and let you go back to drinking.” “No.” Laminia had stopped breathing as she looked at Rusty Pin. The Royal Seamstress looked just exactly as he had the night he and Safety Pin had seen them off at the Canterlot train station, dressed in an immaculate royal blue vest with a white chrysanthemum in his lapel that contrasted perfectly with his dark rusty-red coat and greying mane. He must have had a dozen outfits just like that in his closet, together with a bowler hat for walking outdoors and a set of spats to cover his hooves for wet weather. They were as much a uniform for him as the steel back-and-breast of the Royal Guard. “I never did ask why you were so determined to drink your young life away. I just knew when I saw you at that bar that you looked so much like a wounded bird that I could not live with myself if I abandoned you to your fate. After all, there were so many young cats in that place.” A serious expression briefly chased away the broad grin that always seemed to occupy Rusty’s face. “Now, young lady. I believe Princess Luna asked you a question.” A pile of darkness seemed to drop onto Laminia’s heart, and she spread her crippled wing out onto the damp bar floor. From the wing joint to the elbow it was as thick and leathery as all Night Pegasi wings, but from there to the wingtips it was a tangled hash of membranes and feathers, a defect from birth and obviously unable to bear her weight in the sky. “I was a cripple. My family said my wing was made that way at birth to show I was defective, and not to be trusted. I don’t deserve to be in my own family. Even after Celestia healed my wing, my soul is still just as corrupt and twisted as before. I hate myself, that’s why I’m here. At least here, I can be loved for just a little while for what I am. I never told you before. All the times when we talked, and after you adopted me I was lying to you through omission. You deserved to have known you were getting damaged goods. You deserve better than me.” Rusty scoffed and hooked a foreleg around her neck for a warm hug. He always gave the best hugs, perhaps it was the extensive amount of practicing that he did to anypony in his vicinity. “Oh, stuff and nonsense. Safety and I love you for who you are, and that has nothing to do with wings. You’re a beautiful young mare with a beautiful heart and a magnificent talent. We feel so privileged to have you in our family and we dread the day when some handsome young stallion will sweep you off your hooves and take you away from us.” He paused with a twinkle in his eye. “Although grandfoals would be nice.” “Father!” Laminia pushed him away and stood up with a scowl. “I am not in love with Pumpernickel! He’s just a stupid lout who’s too stubborn to give up!” She broke off at the sudden look of hope in her adoptive father’s eyes. “Oh no. No-no-no-no!” “You found a new coltfriend? Hopefully somepony you haven’t been kicking in the head, right? I can hardly wait to tell Safety Pin! Oh, this calls for a celebration!” He trotted to the bar with happy hooves, pausing only to dance a short jig before calling out to the bartender, “Oh barkeep! Three alfalfa juice smoothies please.” “Bleah!” Luna’s disgusted voice seemed to come from everywhere. “A chocolate malted for myself instead. How can you stand to drink that horrid stuff?” A ripple of irritation ran down Laminia’s flanks, and both wings retracted back under her cloak. “Luna? This is low. Stealing the image of my father for a dream. You used his image to get inside my head.” “I wanted to understand why your pain felt so much like mine,” said the voice in a quiet whisper. “Now I do. Your disability made you feel broken and hurt, betrayed by your family. You hated yourself so much that you tried to punish both yourself and them in this place. When I returned from the moon, you saw an opportunity to redeem yourself for your past transgressions and your dark feelings. You would bring back all my glory by sacrificing all that you had gained: your new loving family, your career. And when you failed, it tore open a hole in your heart that my sister merely healing your wing could not fix. And here you are again, trying to punish yourself inside your own mind.” “How can you say you understand?! You have no idea the pain — Oh.” Lamina looked around the bar with tears in her eyes. “I guess we each had our own methods of coping with feelings of rejection; I tried to sleep with every stallion in Canterlot, and you—” “Tried to destroy the world in eternal darkness. Yes, I know my flaws far too well. I also know how difficult it is to accept forgiveness for your actions without going through the restitution process. I have decided that my restitution shall be my eternal service to our subjects. I was hoping that you would consider yours to be your service to me. I can see I was mistaken.” Luna’s voice in the air sighed. “Does your guilt weigh upon your soul so heavily that you cannot function without physical punishment? For although I thought serving at my side was a trying chore indeed, it seems you desire even greater torture to assuage your guilt. Your mind has returned you to this place of great pain and sorrow, a dark memory of where you acted against the desires of your family in an attempt to both punish yourself and them. Why? Now you have a family who loves you, a position where you can show your true skill to the whole world, and a rather rock-headed idiot who seems to have fallen for you. “I am beginning to miss the day when we could simply assign marriages between ponies. I fail to see why my sister seems to have developed this strange urge to encourage ‘free will’ and banned the practice between non-noble ponies some centuries ago. Otherwise we could just throw the two of you in a box, lock the door, and open it up in two weeks. You would either come out as a couple, or you would kill each other; either way it would solve my problem.” “Princess!” Laminia was scandalized, but for one brief moment she could not decide if it was because the idea was tempting or outrageous. “I shall be brief. Are you quite done attempting to destroy yourself?” She took a look around the bar as it slowly faded from view. “I suppose. I mean, yes, Your Highness.” “You have not been acting very much as if I am your sworn liege and Princess. As I recall, I gave you some very simple instructions in Canterlot. Do you remember what they were?” Her surroundings seemed to shimmer, turning into the moonlit Royal Gardens complete with the soft sounds and delicate scents that almost overcame the tension of standing in front of Princess Luna. To her side were not only Pumpernickel and Rarity, but also Rusty Pin, looking around the garden with a great deal of pleasure. The garden breeze blew Luna’s celestial mane slightly to one side as she looked straight at her and said in a stern tone, “I expect you to learn the arts of grace, beauty, and court behavior, so that you may better perform your duties when you return to the castle and resume your position at my side. Have you been following my orders?” Her head sagged and she could not look the Princess in the eye. “No,” she said in a very small voice. The surroundings shifted again, and she was in the library next to Pumpernickel with Luna looking straight at her again. “And in addition, the seven of you little foals shall labor for the next week at the behalf of Twilight Sparkle in her task of studying the history of the Night Pegasi. Have you been following my orders in this regard?” “No.” Her voice had gotten very small, and Rusty Pin moved up beside her to put a foreleg around her in a hug. “Did it ever occur to you that I would give you these tasks in this tiny village for more than punishment? Twilight Sparkle and the other Elements have a gift that even exceeds Twilight’s nearly limitless potential in magical endeavors: They make friends. “I have felt their gift on more than one occasion when I needed it most. It was somewhat difficult at first, but they taught me that I could be both a respected ruler and a respected friend. I had hopes that the same magic of friendship would change your heart, as it changed mine. Perhaps it has, more so than either of us would admit.” “I doubt it.” “You consider your heart to be changed this little?” Luna’s words floated out as if they were feathers, but hit her ears like bricks. “You had the unmitigated gall to stop my sister in the middle of her little invasion, and sent her scurrying back to Canterlot to confess her actions to me like some chastised little foal. While I am both shocked and pleased at your loyalty to me, I must admit you were also quite correct in your instincts. We had been holding back from each other much more than we realized. How were you so aware of our issues?” Laminia glowered and tried futilely to pull away from Rusty Pin, who had her in an unbreakable hug. “Don’t give me credit for that one. I was just trying to divert attention from Pumpernickel and said the first thing that came to mind.” “You told me once that you design your dresses the same way, that you try to act without thinking, and the design just seems to flow from your soul. If you are as corrupt as you say, how does your soul produce such beauty? If you spoke without thinking in an attempt to protect one whom you claim no affection, how did your words hold such wisdom?” The library faded out, to be replaced by the interior of the Carousel Boutique, as several workponies moved in new dressmaker dummies, and others swept the ashes of failed designs out the door. In the background were a few covered dressmaker dummies being jealously guarded by Rarity to keep away any dust or flying debris. Luna’s voice spoke from above, “By the end of the week, I would like you to begin work on making a final version of this uniform, plus an informal off-duty version. Something light, on the order of a vest with the same cap. Have you been following my orders in this regard?” “Yes!” Laminia raised her head defiantly, then slowly began to slump as she looked at her adoptive father’s disappointed face. “Not really. I have not been able to concentrate at work. I’ve been making things, but...” “Things,” scoffed Rusty. “An accurate summation. However, the Princess really liked the uniform and the Night Guard armor plans.” “Yes, it will be good to see mares once again in the ranks of my Guard. They were the majority in my time. I was quite vexed to find them absent when I returned. Still, your work over the last week has been most childish and crude, and your reluctance to following orders even more so.” “Are you dismissing me?” Laminia’s voice was very soft inside the dream boutique, and Rusty gave her an extra reassuring squeeze. “No. Even with your antics as of late, I will not dismiss you from our service. Your care for our injured Night Guards was quite exemplary; Redoubtable praised you at length on both your reaction to his physical injuries and the mental injuries of Pumpernickel. He seems to think quite highly of you and his partner, although I do not understand his phrase about the two of you ‘Getting along like a house on fire.’ I trust you have not lit any dwellings on fire. It would be a great scandal for my Royal Hoofmaiden to be imprisoned for arson.” If it were possible for a disembodied voice to smile, Luna’s voice would have been grinning from ear to ear. “No I— Why did Redoubtable think I treated that lout well? I thought I was horribly rude to him.” “Do you not know his talent? His cutie mark is a magnifying glass, and his special talent is evaluation. If he did not make such a good guard, I would employ him in my personal staff. He claims you treated that ‘lout’ exactly the way he needed to be treated, for Pumpernickel has a near infinite capacity for self-pity, and if left to his own devices, will wallow in it for an unhealthy amount of time. Strangely enough, he said the same about you.” “Me?! I do not wallow in—” She broke off and looked up at Rusty Pin, who had not quit hugging her yet. “Father, tell her she’s wrong!” “Shush dear,” he said, not stopping in his warm hug one moment. “Don’t contradict your Princess.” “Father!” “In addition, she wallows so badly. My faithful Royal Seamstress, have you never taught your adopted child the proper feminine art of self-pity?” “I apologize, Your Highness. It is a deficiency in our parenting that Safety Pin and I were woefully prepared to properly deal with. After all, there are so many variants: Walking the floors with a single flower and sighing, gazing out a window into the rain, sitting beneath a tree and watching the sunset...” The voice of Luna stifled a giggle. “We consider those all very proper behaviors for a Royal Hoofmaiden, designed over many years to attract other members of the court into taking you into their confidence. Foolish courtiers who think to gain influence in my eyes and young maidens who fear to meet with me are supposed to use you as a secondary source to the throne. Hiding inside the boutique and away from everpony else just will not do. Hm...” Laminia squirmed free from Rusty Pin’s warm embrace and laid down flat on the floor with her head between her forehooves. “Your Highness, I am prepared to accept your punishment, whatever it is.” “It would have to be something she really does not like to do,” said Rusty helpfully. “Like eat her alfalfa, or socialize, or even sing in public.” “Father! Stop trying to help!” Laminia squirmed in embarrassment and mumbled, “Besides, alfalfa isn’t that bad with enough ice cream.” “Well, I know what we will start with,” said Luna’s voice above her. “Your father insisted on traveling to Ponyville with me to see your designs, and we’re both sitting inside your room at the hotel right now, watching you snore. I’m not leaving until you treat us both to some ice cream.” She felt a hoof nudge her in the side and began to awaken. “And no alfalfa flavors!”