“So how big is your family anyway?” Script asked. By now, the new family was making their way towards Canterlot by train.
“Well, on my side there’s my Dad and my two sisters, Sugar Sweet and Home Finder.” Color responded. “There’s also Grandma Taffy, Uncle Bergen and Aunt Spotlight. Plus all the kids and one on the way from Home Finder, I think I have about twelve if you include me.”
“For me, there’s my mother Celestia and Aunt Luna, there’s also what I to call my three half-siblings, Blueblood, Cadence, and Twilight. Neither Twilight nor Blueblood is married, but Cadence is with her husband, Shining Armor. And those two have a daughter, Flur. So on my side of the family, that makes… Eight, including me.”
“So hold on,” Script said, being deep in thought. “If you were adopted by the princesses that you call one of them mom, and you two adopted me, wouldn’t that mean that Celestia and Luna are now both of my great-great-great-great-great-grandmas or something?”
Both of the princes couldn’t hold in their laughter.
“Okay! That was funny!” Harmonic said smiling, “B-But in all seriousness, don’t ever ask them their age.”
“Why?”
“Trust me, I tried that once, and I can just tell you that neither of them wasn’t happy about it. And besides, it turns out that asking somepony’s age is actually very rude.”
Script raised an eyebrow, “Why?” he asked, “Ponies asked me how old I am all the time and I don’t get mad at it.”
“Hm. I guess that’s because you’re still young. But maybe the older you’d get, the more that question seems annoying.” Color answered, Script nodded and looked out the window.
“You seemed very good at explaining things.” Script acknowledged, “So if you are now both my dads, what am I going to call ya? I mean, I can’t call both of you dad, it might get confusing.”
Color turned to Harmonic, “He’s right actually, we’d need to think what we should be called. Hey, how about you’ll be called dad and me pops.”
Harmonic raised an eyebrow, “Pops? Really?”
“Well, why not? I don't mind being called pops. My dad used to call my grandpa ‘pops’ all the time you know.”
“Yeah, but that’s because your grandpa used to make soda from scratch.”
“Can I just call you ‘Pa’?” Script asked.
“Hmm… I guess that’ll work,” Color said with a smile.
When the train stopped outside of Canterlot’s train station, they were greeted with a couple of pegasi guards with a carriage for the princes. There was some confusion when they saw the foal.
“He’s with us.” Color said to the guards.
In no time, they flew over inside the castle grounds being saluted by both the Solar and Lunar guards. Once again, there was confusion amongst them when the colt stepped out. Script hid in-between his fathers, trying to keep out of view of the prying eyes.
“Ah, there you two are.” Script looked up ahead to find the great sun Diarch herself. “We were so worried since we haven’t heard a…” Celestia trailed off as she looked down between the two. “….And who’s this?”
“A surprise,” Harmonic said, “Are Cadence and Shining still here?”
“No. They’ve gone back to the empire yesterday.”
“Could you have someone get the rest of the family together for dinner tonight?”
“But whatever for?”
“Trust us,” Color smiled. “It’s a family issue, something I think the rest of the family should hear.” He turned to Harmonic, “I’ll take Script to get my family. While you get Twilight and Blueblood.”
Harmonic shuttered: “Fine, I’ll go find Twilight first.”
“Excuse me,” Celestia interjected. “Am I missing something here?”
“You’ll see,” The couple said cryptically as they and the foal walked pass her; Celestia, however, raised an eyebrow, “My son and son-in-law, what are you two up to?”
_*_
“So what have you two been doing in the past few days?” Sugar Sweet asked. When she isn’t smothering Script to death along with the lines of, “Aren’t you the cutest thing?” She along with her older sister and Dad were questioning to Color.
“Yeah, last time I’ve heard, you two were stuck in Vanhoover for days, and now you’ve come back with a kid?” Home Finder asked while lying down on a couch, visibly pregnant. Her glasses drooped nearly over the edge of her snout; her yellow main was tied up in a bun while her tail lay messily on the couch. On her flank was a house as her cutie mark.
“We’ll talk about it over dinner at the castle.” Color reinsured them, “But in the meantime, I thought I should bring Script by to introduce him to you.”
“Color,” Golden Cash said, “May I have a word with you alone?”
Nodding, he told his sister and his adopted son to wait; Golden led his son over to the next room.
“Color, what’s this really about? Who is that colt?”
“I told you, we’ll tell you-”
“Now,” his father said firmly, “You tell me right now who that kid is.”
“There’s no way I’m going to win this is there?”
His father shook his head. Sighing in defeat, he whispered the secret to him.
“Really?!” Golden was taken back in surprise, “Since when?”
“The day after Hearths Warming. Look, I and Harmonic will tell you everything, but for now, I think he should get to know you guys.”
“But son, are you two absolutely sure about this? Raising foals is a tremendous responsibility, and as a father who raised the three of you, I should know.”
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Color ended it with an uneasy smile. His father wasn’t buying it. Sighing, Color added, “Okay, Harmonic believes we’re ready. But for me… I don’t know, but I think we can do it. Script has gone through a lot already, but he’s a good kid dad.”
“Color, you haven’t told me why. Why did you two adopt him really?”
Color looked his dad in the eye and said, “Because no foal should feel neglected: that’s what happened to him. His mom abandons him and his dad when he was like two. And his dad hardly noticed he was even there. He’s spent his nine years of life trying to survive, just like Harmonic had. But unlike him, Script wasn’t loved by anypony, and nearly died because of it. Dad, even if Script doesn’t see it, he needs somepony to give him the family that he never had the chance to have. That is the reason why.”
Golden went silent for a moment, closing his eyes; he nodded his head a few times, “Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear from you. And don’t worry; I won’t spoil the surprise to your sisters just yet.”
“Would you stop hugging me?!” Script’s voice pierced through the air.
“I can’t help it,” Sugar Sweet replied. “You’re just so adorable.”
“Maybe I should take Script somewhere else,” Color thought out-loud.
_*_
“Doesn’t that get annoying after a while?” Script asked. Color and his son were walking toward the Copper Pot Café, and along the way, ponies respectively bowed to Color as they passed by.
“I admit it does get old really fast after a while. But then again, there are some perks for being married to a royal.”
“Like what?” Color looked up to see they’re at the café.
“Watch this,” he told Script as they entered. They first saw a waiter at a podium.
“Excuse me-” was all Color said when he the waiter interrupted.
“Right this way Your Grace.” The waiter led them to an open table. “The usual sir?”
“Kinda, can you make two hot chocolates this time?”
“Of course, on the house.”
As the waiter walked away, Script turned to his new Pa and asked: “On the house? You mean you get your meals for free?”
“That’s the funny thing about being part of the royal family, everywhere you go, ponies want to give you things for free.”
“Free! So if ponies knew you guys adopted me, I can go to any store in Equestria and they can give me whatever I want for nothing!”
“Hey, be careful about using that. You don’t want to be as spoiled as Blueblood.”
“Blueblood?”
“Okay, try to imagine- Oh thank you,” the waiter put the cups of hot chocolate on the table. “Try to think back to the most selfish, spoiled, greediest, self-centered, unbelievably rotten, most arrogant ponies that you’ve ever met, forget them! Blueblood is the embodiment of everything wrong with Equestrian Royalty.”
Script blinked, “I don’t know what ‘embodiment’ means, but I take it that he’s not really a good pony.”
Color snorted, “That’s actually a very kind way of putting it. I mean, he may look like prince charming, but the stallion has been spoiled with everything you could think of since he was born. He thinks that he’s born above nearly everypony else all because he’s ‘entitled’ to everything. Believe me, I don’t think either me or Harmonic want you to end up like that.”
Script sat in thought for a moment, taking a sip from his cup. “You know what Pa, maybe I don’t wanna be a Prince.”
“Hm? How so?”
“I never really saw myself as a prince like you guys, I just wanna play like a normal foal.”
Color chuckled, “No need to worry about that, besides, you’re too young to even be crowned a Prince anyway.”
“And I still don’t have my cutie mark.” Script pointed out, taking another sip from his hot chocolate.
Later on, as they exited out the café, Script spotted a pile of snow on the street, with his new dad walking away, he grinned mischievously when he got an idea. He knelt down to the pile of snow and quickly made a snowball. With the cold ball in his hoof, he yelled, “Hey dad! Think fast!” and threw it at the back of his head.
The snowball hit its target, Color turned around with a cross look on his face. Script was quickly thinking that this was a bad idea until his Pa’s horn lit up, grabbing some nearby snow and forming it into a ball in his aura.
“Oh,” Color said with a wicked grin, “Of course you know, this means war!”
_*_
“Good news, Twilight is coming and… What happened to you?” Harmonic asked when he got a good look at his husband. Color’s coat and mane were dripping wet with melting snow. Script, who was as dry as a hot day in Appaloosa, stood right next to him trying to look innocent.
“Snowball fight,” Color said, lifting a hoof he pointed at the colt. “He won.”
“Okay... how about you go and dry yourself off. I’m going to show his new room before we go to dinner.”
“Yeah, agreed,” Color nodded. He excused himself going into another hallway. Script followed his dad through the castle.
They reached a pair of the double doors that was one of the many guest rooms, in which Harmonic opened them with is magic. The colt rushed into the room, it was very simple and plain compared to the other rooms in the castle. There was a bed big enough somepony five times his size to sleep on. There was a fireplace made up of tiles. Outside of two arch windows, he could see Canterlot down below and a view of the Equestrian landscape. Script opened the two other doors in the room, one was a closet, and the other was a bathroom.
“I know it’s not much at the moment,” Harmonic said as he entered the room. “This place hasn’t been used very much you see. But you can add things in here if you-”
“It’s huge,” Script said, “This room is just as big as my house! And this time I have a bed!” Script leaped onto the bed and began bouncing on it.
“As I was saying,” Harmonic continued, giving a half smile. “You can add things to this room, all you’d need to do is ask. If you wanted a bookcase with books, you’ll get it. If you wanted something to hang on the walls or change the color, ask away.”
“Can I have some toys to play with?!” Script asked, still bouncing away on the bed. “I didn’t have many toys to play with in Vanhoover. So can I, can I!?”
“Um… What kind of toys?”
“Well, I want…” Script stopped bouncing. He put a hoof over his chin, “Yeah, what do I want anyway? Now I can ask for any toy I can ever want, but what do I ask for? Um, how about a toy train, one with tracks that puff out smoke?”
“You mean steam?”
“Huh?”
“Trains puff out steam, not smoke. You know that hot misty stuff that comes out of pots when something’s cooking? That’s steam.”
“Um... okay, I’ll have that.”
“If I were you, I’d think about a list of things you’d probably want for your room so we know what to get.”
Script nodded, “Okay. By the way, where is your room?”
“Mine?”
“Well, you and Pa’s.”
“Oh, just down the hall and go to your left. And you’ll know if you found the rooms by our cutie marks.”
“Rooms? You mean that you two don’t share the room?”
“Well, yes and no. We both have our own rooms, yes. But we’re right next door to each other, in case either of us needs something.”
“Wait… so you’re saying that you don’t share the same room.... even though you’re married?”
“Don’t get me wrong, we actually do from time to time. It’s not like we don’t… uh… visit each other now and then. But you see, as artists, we also need a bit of space, as well as some time to meditate on our arts as well.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
When seven o’clock came rolling in, Celestia, Luna, Blueblood, and Twilight walked into the private dining room to find both the princes at the table along with the colt sitting between them.
“Hello, who’s this?” Twilight asked.
“That’s what I like to know,” Celestia chimed in, taking her usual seat at the table. Blueblood ignored the new guest at the table and took his seat. Luna on the other hoof went straight for the foal.
“Awe! Thou art adorable!” The Princess of the Night said with a squee. Script wrapped his forehooves around Harmonic.
“Pardon me Your Majesties,” they looked up to a Lunar guard at the door. “Prince Color’s family has arrived, shall I send them in?”
“Please do,” Color said, nodding at the guard. A while later, Color’s father and two sisters walked into the room. The three of them respectfully bowed before they took their seats.
“So, brother, aren’t you going to tell us who Script is?” Home Finder asked.
“Why yes of course,” Color said, “I think this is a cause for a celebration.”
“Why?” Twilight asked.
Both Harmonic and Color looked at each other, having a look in their eyes that asks, ‘you want to tell them first?’
“I’ll tell them,” Harmonic said, “I’m sure all of you will immediately have a million questions when I say this. So are you all ready? On your mark, get set, Script is our adopted son, go!”
There were exactly ten seconds of silence in that room. Celestia, Luna, and Home Finder had their eyes wide opened. Blueblood, Twilight and Sugar Sweet gawked. The only one in the room that didn’t look surprised was Golden Cash.
“So… When did this happen?” Twilight asked.
“The day after Hearths Warming,” Harmonic answered.
“In Vanhoover?” Luna asked.
The couple nodded.
“Where did you find him? At an orphanage?”
“No,” this time, it was Script who spoke up. “He actually saved me,” He pointed at Harmonic.
“I’m sure we like to hear this,” Celestia said. “Would the three of you please explain a few things for us?”
And so, the three of them told their story. Color began the story of their string of bad luck in Vanhoover. Harmonic described how he found Script in a soaked cardboard box freezing to death. So he took him to the hospital where they began putting the pieces together. Script described what happened that morning after when they officially adopted him.
Interestingly enough, despite the intrigue they had in all of their eyes, nopony in the room had interrupted them besides the occasional question.
“But you haven’t answered the question of why?” Blueblood pointed out. “As noble as that sounds, what would have made you adopt a commoner into this family anyway?”
“For the same reasons as to why my mother and my aunt had adopted me. That is if you can remember it.” Harmonic answered back.
“My nephew,” Luna said, “This is perhaps the kindest thing that both of you have ever done. Although, either of you could have at least told us this sooner. You do know that you could have sent a letter to us?”
“Yes, we know,” Color said. “But we’d figure that we might surprise all of you. And besides, if Canterlot knew beforehoof, we fear that the paparazzi might overwhelm him.”
Celestia nodded, “That seems to make sense.” She turned to Script, “You must be an extremely lucky little colt, and perhaps you might make a good Prince one day.”
“Um, Princess-”
“Just Celestia young one.”
“I don’t know if I want to be a Prince when I grow up.”
This got a reaction out them. “What?!” everypony (except for Color) asked at once.
“Look, living in a castle is really cool and all. But I don’t know if I want to be a Prince here. I mean, I still don’t have my cutie mark yet. And besides, I don’t know if I’ll be good at telling ponies what to do.”
“Sounds good to me,” Blueblood muttered to himself.
Celestia hummed in thought, “Very well, we’ll wait until you’re at least seventeen and we’ll see where things go from there.”
“To tell you the truth,” Sugar Sweet said. “I’m a little bit jealous that you get to have a very adorable colt of your own.”
“Oh I certainly agree with you,” Luna said smiling.
“Say, Luna, can I ask you something?” Script asked Luna told him to ask away. “What should I call you and Celestia?”
“What do you mean child?”
“If you’re Harmonic’s aunt and Celestia is his mom, could I call Celestia grandma and your great-grand aunt or something?”
Luna and Celestia’s eyes widen, “Only in private,” they both said at once.
“So can we start eating?” Script asked. “I’m kinda hungry here.”
_*_
It was in the spring when Script Everfree had come home from a very bad day at school. For him, anything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong: and for Script, he just wanted the day to end. And on a day like this, he would go to the greenhouse where he could be left alone. In a way, it was a good hiding spot, for very few ponies had ever come in there other than the gardeners.
At that moment, he was trying to hide from everypony because of what happened to him at school. He didn’t want anyone, even his fathers, to see the bruises or the black eye from earlier.
“Script? Are you in here?”
Script’s ears perked up, it wasn’t his Dad’s nor his Pa’s voice. It was a voice from an older stallion. Before he could move, he found himself face to face with a bat pony from Luna’s guards.
He’s been found.
“There you are,” he said. “Your fathers are worried sick about…” He trailed off when he saw the bruises and the black eye. “Dear Luna, what happened to you?”
“Please don’t tell!” Script said quickly.
“Are you hurt? Who did this to you?”
Script stayed silent for a moment.
“Did you get these at school?”
“No,” Script lied. And the older stallion saw through it and frowned.
“Seriously, what happened?” the guard asked.
Script looked around the greenhouse to check if they’re alone. “Look mister…?”
“Bow. Cross Bow.”
“Look, Mr. Bow, I don’t want my dads to be mad at me.”
“How so?”
“Well… Just promise me that you won’t tell them.”
Cross Bow nodded.
“Ya see I’m having a really bad day here. First, it started with me getting up late, and then I realized that I’ve forgotten my lunch, and then there was…”
“What?”
“Him,” Script said through his teeth. “That stuck-up Wound Spring. He started it!”
“So what did he do? Did he call you blank flank?”
“Worse. He called my idea for a story stupid. And right in front of the teacher too! I know Pa said that I should just ignore somepony who says something mean and all, but he doesn’t know Spring! I-I just got so mad that I just punched him in the snout as hard as I could.”
“Oh I see, you didn’t want your fathers to know because you threw the first punch.”
“Yeah. And what was I supposed to do anyway? Just let him keep talking to me like that and have the teacher do nothing?”
The aged stallion put a hoof to his chin. “Tell me something, do you know the meaning of being mature?”
Script raised an eyebrow, “You mean being a stallion? Well… being tough and not being afraid of anything?”
Bow shook his head, “I used to think that too, but as it turns out, that’s not what being mature is about.”
“It isn’t?”
“As I’ve learned it, being mature means showing restraint and not to be quick to anger. To only fight back when there’s no other alternative. Plus, like it or not, you’d need to learn to take responsibility, even when it’s your fault.”
“But I would get into trouble.”
“True. But believe me, I think your fathers would be more impressed of you saying you were the cause then saying that somepony else did it. Take it from me from personal experience, a brave pony is one who admits that what they did or said was wrong.”
“So are you going to tell them?”
“Hmm… Nope. You are.” Picking him up from the scruff of his neck with his mouth, Cross Bow carried the colt all the way to his fathers. Of course, along the way, Script tried persuading him to let him go, but years of doing his job meant he carried out what he was meant to do.
A few stairs climbing and navigating through many hallways later, Script was taken to the castle’s music room where his dad was rehearsing. Harmonic’s first violin sonata has been in the works for almost over half a year, and now he’s been working with Octavia to accommodate him on the piano part for the past two weeks.
Cross Bow knocked on the door to the music room where the music came to a stop. The door opened up, Color stood in the doorway.
“Script!” Color exclaimed in shock when he saw the bruises. Harmonic turned and saw his son’s black eye. He immediately put the violin down on the piano. Of course, the very first question they asked what happened and who did this to him.
“It’s…” Script hesitated; turning to the guard he found his face to be unreadable. In the guard’s eyes, however, seemed to encourage him to tell them the truth.
Sighing, he turned back to his fathers, “Promise me you won’t get mad?”
“From those bruises, I’ll try keeping it at a minimum,” Harmonic said with a groan, which made Script gulped.
“It’s my fault. I got myself in a fight at school with Wound Spring.” His parents seemed shocked. Script quickly added, “He made me mad so I punched him,” looking to the ground, not wanting to see their father’s disappointments.
“Script, I thought we’d already talked about this.” Color said. There was disappointment in his voice, but there was no anger as Script expected.
“I thought so too,” Harmonic nodded. “Just how did it start?”
“You know that assignment we have to do? Write and draw a story by the end of the month? Our teacher went around asking if we’d come up with any ideas. I told her mine and Spring called my idea stupid. He said that it sounded boring but I don’t think it is so… I punched him right in the mouth.”
Harmonic raised an eyebrow, “What’s the story about?”
“Well, I was thinking of writing about a filly, which is around my age, who always wears a bandage over her eyes.”
“Is she blind?”
Script shook his head. “No. She can see, she can see as well as you and me. And you know dad, when I was telling my teacher, Spring said right there it was stupid before I could tell her what it’s really about.”
“Okay then, why does this filly have bandages over her eyes when she’s not blind?”
“Well, she has a kind of power, that if she looks at you in the eyes, she can see everything about you. Your memories; your dreams; hopes; fears; your deepest, darkest secrets; everything! And it’s because of that, she always gets into trouble with everypony.”
“Is that all?”
“Well… I haven’t thought up the rest yet. But it sounded good if only the teacher heard it.”
Harmonic signaled Color over to him into a corner of the room. The two of them spoke softly to each other for a minute or two until they both went back to their son.
“First of all,” Color said. “We’re actually proud of you for admitting to us and yourself what you did was wrong. And we can see what drove you to this. However, you must be punished for getting into a fight.”
Script gulped, but Color continued. “We both agree that little idea for a story does sound good. So good in fact, that we’ve decided that it’ll be your punishment. You will go to your room and write out this story. Besides meals, bathroom breaks, going to school or bedtime, you will not be allowed out of your room until you finish that story. Which means no playtime, no friends, oh and no reading until you finish.”
“But- But that’ll take forever!” Script whined.
“Then start working on it. The sooner you finish, the sooner your punishment will be over.”
“But-”
“No buts. One of us will talk with Spring’s parents later. But for now, go to your room.” Harmonic said, lighting up his horn, he teleported their son to his room.
“Hey Bow,” Harmonic said to the Lunar Guard. “Thanks for finding him.”
“You’re very much welcomed, Your Highnesses.” Bow said with a bow of respect. Before he could leave, Harmonic called out, “Just a moment Cross.”
“Sir?”
“Since you’re here anyway and I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to either of you two for a while, how are you?”
“I’m doing fine sir.”
“And Steel?”
“He’ll be retiring in a few months, and so am I sir. We’re thinkin’ of going to Filliedelphia to be with family.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Color remarked.
“Thank you, sir. Will there be anything else?”
Both Princes told him no and had him excused. Harmonic picked his violin up, “So Mrs. Octavia, where were we?”
_*_
During Script’s grounding, his toys and books were taken away, leaving him nothing but paper, a few pencils, and a sharpener. At first, he was somewhat angry towards his fathers because he’s getting punished, to begin with. But after calming down and realizing that running away isn’t an option since he’s surrounded by guards, he had to start writing the story.
But the thing was in Script’s case, up until that point, he’d never took the time to write a story before. Of course, for Script, it was his only way out of his room. So once he’d calmed down, he began to write.
Not to say that for the colt, he’d made countless mistakes, one atrocity after another to the Equestrian language being put onto paper. There were punctuation errors made, capitalization and paragraph errors shortly followed. Confusing marks with each stroke of his pencil was composed. Yet in Script’s mind, the ideas came clearly as the air he breathed. He wrote on the conversations he could almost hear in his head down as quickly as he could. Tried his hardest to capture what he saw in his mind’s eye, the same way that he would pretend and put it on paper.
On some days, he would struggle to think what someone should say or what’s going to happen next. Sometimes it would take minutes or hours, yet he’d figured it out in the end. There were times when he would get so invested in his story that he’d get annoyed at anypony who interrupted him: even if it was some pony telling him it was dinner time.
About a week and four days later, the door to Script’s room opened with the colt holding the manuscript in his mouth. He marched over to his fathers’ rooms with a determined look in his eye. Knocking first on Harmonic’s door, he heard his dad’s violin stop playing, followed by his hoofsteps.
As soon as the door opened up, Script put the story on the ground. “There! It’s finished. Can I have my stuff back now?”
He saw his dad blink, then to Script’s confusion, his dad (still had frozen wide eyes) leaned to the side but still looked at him.
“Dad? What are you doing? I said the story’s done,” Script asked.
“Have you looked into a mirror lately?”
“Huh?”
Harmonic smiled, picking up his son and his story, he trotted over to his husband’s room, after knocking, he allowed himself in. “Hey Color, you busy?”
“No, why?”
“Take a look at this.” Color looked up from his work and saw his son, still in his husband’s aura. “Well, I’ll be! Let me grab a mirror.”
“What are you talking about?” Script asked, “Have I gotten something on me?”
“Indeed you have.” Color found a mirror and held it up to Script, in the mirror; he saw something on his flank.
“So what? It’s just my…” Script took a double take at the mirror and then to his flanks. There on his blue coat, he saw a white quill and a red inkwell.
“MY CUTIE MARK!! I FINALLY GOT MY CUTIE MARK!!” their son shouted with pure joy.
On that night, Script celebrated with his fathers, his grandmother and great aunt, some red velvet ice cream and a gypsy tune on his dad’s violin.