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// 114: Meet Fauchard 
// Story: My Little Fortress: Dawnpick 
// by Paaaad 
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It is midday of 24th Limestone, 259 and among the new arrivals to the town of Dawnpick is a large muscular unicorn stallion. The stallion has a mostly dark coat and a braided beard, that is starting to grey from age. The unicorn pulls behind him a wagon, filled to the brim with crates covered only by a simple tarp.

Coming to meet the unicorn at the gate are Glaive and Falcata. Glaive looks slightly nervous must mostly is looking forward to this meeting.

Swishing her tail nervously, Falcata stands beside her husband, all of a sudden more self-conscious than she's been in years. Glaive has said a lot about his father, most of it intimidating, if she were honest. She already knew Glaive's family was fairly wealthy, but his father had been a colonel in the army and, according to Glaive, had a highly distinguished service record. Despite her husband's obvious respect for his father and his reassurances that she'd find him a pleasant, kind and honorable pony, it was quite another thing to actually meet Fauchard in the flesh. Watching the wagon and its impressively large load trundle closer, she leans closer to Glaive, whispering in his ear.
"So, uh, just how wealthy is your dad? Because that's a lot of stuff."

Glaive chuckles, “Well, he probably couldn’t bear to be away from his library, I’d bet anything half of that is his books.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “I hope you’re exaggerating when you say half of that” she gestures towards the heavily laden wagon with a forehoof, “is books.”
So on a scale of one to King Golud, he’s about...a seven? she ponders, trying to work out exactly how many expensive, hoof-made pages a pony could fit under that tarpaulin. That’s...wealthy.

Glaive looks uncomfortable talking about just how much wealth his family has their disposal. “Well, I guess so. The family has had a lot of wealth since my Great-Grandfather made his fortune, and both Grandfather, and Father married above our station, which only made that amount grow with time. But most of it is tied up in property, including Dad’s library.”

After the new arrival makes it over the drawbridge into town, he frees himself from his wagon, and walks up to Glaive, looking him over like a commander inspecting his troops, and suddenly hugs the younger unicorn. After a moment the old unicorn releases him, “Glaive, you look like hell. You have to tell me how you got each and every one of those scars over dinner.”

Glaive frowns at his father, “Have you not been reading my letters father? I have told you everything that has happened already.”

“Of course I have my son, I just want to hear the stories from your mouth.” The unicorn looks to the lovely white mare, visibly pregnant with his future grandfoal, standing next to his son Glaive, he gives a short bow. “You must be Falcata, Glaive has told me much about you. I am Fauchard. It is a pleasure to meet you at long last.”
Falcata briefly considers giving him a bow in return, but on account of her advanced pregnancy she settles for dipping her head respectfully.
"The pleasure is all mine, sir." she replies, doing her best to make a good impression on the imposing stallion.

Glaive speaks up. “How was the journey father?”

“Long and boring,” he replies, “seems either we got lucky, or the bandits knew I was with them.” He says, mostly joking, while gesturing to the other arrivals. “A nice bunch mostly....So where should I put my stuff?”

Glaive and Falcata show the old unicorn to the room they had had Virtue set aside for him. As Glaive carries in the heavy boxes one by one, and begins to unpack them, (Fauchard complains of his ‘bad back’ to skip out on the work, though Glaive doesn’’t believe it, he accepts the excuse.) Fauchard, leaning against his wagon, begins to speak with Falcata.

“So, Falcata, Glaive tells me you’re in the militia. What made a beautiful mare such as yourself take up such dangerous work?”

She reddens slightly at the compliment, taking a minute to think before replying.
"Well, we- I always wanted to be in the town guard, back in Coupledye. My dad, he was a swordspony with the militia caravans, and he always used to tell me about the "adventures" he had on his travels, though I think he exaggerated a little." Falcata says, laughing a bit.
"But anyway, I don't think that was his intent, but he managed to give me a real interest in protecting people, fighting for the good of everypony who can't, I guess. So I joined the town guard as soon as I was able, but...well, you're from Coupledye, you know what the capital is like. There's not much call for warriors there, and- well, it was a bit of a wake-up call for me, moving out here years ago. I'm not sure whether the old me would have been so eager to fight if she knew what it was really like." she sighs.

Fauchard smiles, “A very good answer.” Fauchard waits for Glaive to be out of earshot inside his new home. “So, how did you and my son, become involved together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

"Uh," she stammers, her cheeks going crimson again, "he was- he's a very charming pony, sir. And, um, well, I'm sure he told you about it, but he has a shield, the Touch of Leaves, really nice leather and chainmail thing. He got given it when he saved Sienna from being foalnapped by a thief years back. And, uh, this one time I, um- I got hurt, hurt really bad, fighting a group of thieves and left myself open. I was in hospital for weeks afterward, but...but Glaive came nearly every day. To visit, I mean. It meant a lot to me."

Fauchard nods, as Falcata talks, “Yes, that does sound like my son, but please, you don’t need to call me ‘sir.’ We are family now, you may call me Fauchard.”

She flushes even more, embarrassed. "Sorry, Fauchard. I-"

Glaive comes back out and grabs the last box. “This is the last one father. Are you hungry? We can show you to the dining hall next if you want?”

Fauchard turns toward his son and takes the heavy crate from him as if he had forgotten about his ‘bad back’, “That sounds fine son,” as he carries the box inside himself and sets it down.





The three ponies make their way to the Dining Hall. They each acquire a plate of food and a bit of drink and take their seats around a table.

As they do, a bright yellow stripy filly starts bouncing up to them. “Meow meow meow!” she says as she bounces along. “Hello mister Glaive! Hello mrs Falcata! Hello mister I Don’t Know Your Name!”

Glaive smiles at the filly, “Why, hello Friesden. I’d like to introduce you to my father, his name is Fauchard.” Glaive gestures to his father, “and Father, this is Friesden, I think I told you about her in my letters?”
Fauchard looks at the little filly, while her coat was naturally quite different her eyes reminded him of those of his lost daughter Balisong. He smiles a sort of sad smile at her and says, “It is a pleasure to meet you miss Friesden.”

“Meow meow meow! That’s bunny speak for ‘Hello mister Fauchard! How are you?’.” She bounces up and down a couple of times.

“I’m doing just fine, miss. Glaive just helped this old stallion move into his new apartment, and we are sitting down for dinner. Would you like to join us?” inquires Fauchard.

“Um...Can I, mister Glaive and mrs Falcata?” she asks, looking to each of them in turn, before bouncing up and down a couple of times.

“Uh, sure! That is, if you’re okay with it?” queries Falcata to the two unicorns.

“Of course you can join us.” Glaive says pulling out a chair for the filly with his magic.

“Thank you mister Glaive!” says Friesden as she bounces into the chair, flapping her wings a couple of times to get the clearance.

“So, Friesden, how are you today?” inquires the older unicorn, between bites of his dinner.

“Good! I’m really good! Almost-dad says I’ve almost done enough work to get my pet bunny! It’s going to be so cute! And fuzzy and warm and it’s going to be the best!” She takes a couple of bites from the food, and turns to Glaive. She tries to ask something, but the food in her mouth makes it come out as a mumble.

Glaive gets a serious expression, across his face. “Friesden, didn’t I tell you not to speak with your mouth full? Try that agian.”

Friesden swallows her food, and then tries again. “Did you and Falcata try getting a new one?”

Immediately, a chunk of food diverts itself down Falcata’s windpipe (a piece of cupcake finally attempting to avenge his many fallen brethren) as she recoils in shock, sending her into a fit of coughing and spluttering.
“Ack-” she chokes, unable to formulate a reply.

As Falcata descends into her coughing fit the two unicorns stand to try and help her. “Falcata are you okay?” they ask as they come to her sides.

“Mrs Falcata? Is something wrong? What’s wrong?” Friesden asks in an anxious tone.

Having managed to dislodge and properly consume the offending morsel of food, Falcata takes a second to think carefully.
“Thanks, Fauchard, Glaive. Um, Friesden, to answer your question- uh, yes. Yes we did.” she replies, hoping against all hope that Fauchard won’t question what Friesden means by “another one”.

As the two unicorns retake their seats, Fauchard looks over to the couple, “What’s she talking about? A new what?”
Falcata finds her hope snuffed out like a candle at bedtime, and she slides slowly down her seat, feeling very ill at ease.
Glaive looks awkward, not liking the direction this conversation was going. “Uh, I’ll...I’ll tell you when we get home, dad.”

Fauchard looks confused before the realization sinks in, “Oh, yes of course.”

Friesden thinks for a second. “Meow meow meow meow meow!” she eventually comes out with. “That’s bunny speak for ‘What do you do mister Fauchard?’.”

Happy to change the subject Fauchard turns back to the filly, “Well I used to be colonel in the royal army, but that was years ago. I’m retired now. Now I spend my days relaxing, or exercising my mind and body.” He pauses for moment, “and what is it that you do miss Friesden?” he asks her.

“Um...I’m a bunny! Meow meow meow,” Friesden replies.

Fauchard laughs and says, “So I see. You make for a very good bunny.” as he messes up her mane, with his forehoof.
“She always has,” smiles Falcata, sitting up straight again now that the conversation is back on track.

“Indeed she has.” adds Glaive, a pause in the talking follows, until it is broken a few moments later by Glaive once more, a bit of genuine concern in his voice, “So, Friesden, how is it living with Glyph and Kat? Are they taking good care of you?”

“Um...Scary lady and almost-dad? They’re nice...They didn’t like me being a bunny and almost-dad didn’t want me to get a pet bunny...but they’re okay with it now! They leave me alone sometimes when they go to see the buffalo lady. But it’s okay. That’s when I get to do the other thing I like to do!” she says with a brightening smile on her face.

Glaive turns to his father and whispers, “Buffalo Lady is her name for that alicorn, Stiletto, that I told you about.”

“I see,” is all Fauchard says at first, before he adds, “...And what is the other thing you like to do Friesden?”

In answer, Friesden finishes her mouthful, and starts flying rings around Fauchard’s head. “I like to fly around until I’m dizzy!” she says in an excited tone as she does so.
Falcata giggles at the young pegasus’ enthusiasm, recognising the same joy for flight she herself had always experienced reflected in the circling yellow figure.
Fauchard chuckles as the filly flies around his head. ‘Those two should not leave a little filly her age alone, unsupervised.’ “You know Friesden, when they leave you alone, you are welcome to come and visit me. I could show you some of the knickknacks I’ve picked up over the years, and I don’t really have any friends in Dawnpick yet.”

“Really? Can I? That sounds fun!” Friesden says as she slows down and eventually flies back over to her seat and sits down.

Fauchard smiles at her, “Absolutely, also, I brought some of Glaive’s old toys and such, they were meant for the new foals, but you can play with them whenever you visit if you like.”

“Thank you mister Fauchard!” Friesden says and she hops out of her chair again and flies over to give him a hug.

Fauchard returns the hug, as Glaive watches in contented silence at the scene before him. He hadn’t seen his father look this happy since before his sister’s murder, all those years ago.