Chapter 20
Noctilucent awoke after a strangely dreamless night of sleep. At least he didn’t remember any dreams last night. He had been tired, and had gone to bed early. He felt well rested. His mind felt oddly at peace, as though some great burden had been taken from it.
He rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. It was early, and the orphanage was still asleep. Once in the bathroom, he showered, stared at himself in the mirror for a while, tried to talk himself into being a better pony, and then went upstairs.
He was no unicorn, but Noctilucent wasn’t completely helpless in a kitchen. He was missing the use of a wing, which meant a loss of one helpful limb, but he was clever and creative. He checked the pantry, checked the cupboards, and surveyed the freezer.
He pulled a bag of shredded potatoes from the freezer, placed a giant cast iron skillet on the stove, poured in a little oil, and then began to heat it up. There was leftover succotash in the fridge, so he pulled that out, intending to toss it in with the hash browns.
He had a little trouble maneuvering the giant griddle that fit over the two stove burners, but he managed. He pulled out two loaves of nearly stale bread and placed them on the counter. Whistling to himself, something pegasi were encouraged not to do because of all the stereotypes about birds, he set to work in the kitchen. A carton of eggs were pulled from the fridge, he found a bottle of vanilla, some cinnamon, and some nutmeg.
Using his good wing and getting his feathers messy, he was able to crack a whole lot of eggs into a bowl. He added vanilla, cinnamon, some nutmeg, and a little bit of milk and began to beat the eggs.
He tossed the hash browns and the succotash into the skillet, where it began to sizzle and crackle, and then began to dip slices of bread into the egg mixture. He flipped the egg drenched bread onto the griddle and made Fancy toast. He couldn’t speak Fancy, but he could make Fancy toast.
He tossed the hash browns and succotash using a spatula held in his teeth and began to flip the Fancy toast. His wing was covered in egg. He nickered in self satisfaction, feeling very pleased with himself, having himself a grand old time in the kitchen.
He placed the done pieces of Fancy toast on a large platter and slipped it into the oven on the warm setting. He heard hoofsteps behind him and then heard a gasp.
“You made breakfast!” Holly gasped in surprise, not believing what she was seeing. The pegasus was agile and moved with amazing speed and timing. She moved to set the table, leaving Noctilucent alone so he could finish his work.
Noctilucent heard the clatter of hooves and claws, but did not bother to turn around. There was no time. He flipped more Fancy toast and then tossed the hash browns around in the pan. He flipped the done pieces of Fancy toast into the air, caught them on the spatula in a stack, and stashed them in the warming oven.
“Neat,” Sassafras said from the table.
“Indeed,” Graves agreed.
Holly went to work pouring glasses of cold green tea sweetened with honey to drink with breakfast, placed out the syrup, some jam, some ketchup, and some fiery picante.
“Oh my gosh, he cooks!” Quirky said, stepping through the kitchen door. “I let myself in,” she added, looking around the room.
“i wish I could see how he cooks,” Cactus Blossom muttered.
“He moves very fast,” Candy Corn said to Cactus Blossom.
“Save me some breakfast, I am going to feed Shortbread Cookie,” Quirky requested, snatching Shortbread away from Holly and disappearing with her.
“I smell Fancy toast,” Arroyo quipped, licking his lips.
‘Hash browns,” the little grey donkey breathed. “I would throw you all under a wagon for hash browns.”
“Graves!” Holly snapped.
“Well, maybe not you Holly,” Graves replied. “I love you Holly.”
“Cactus Blossom! Stop drinking the syrup!” Holly barked.
“Oh my gosh, hash browns,” Graves moaned.
“Cactus, stop drinking the picante sauce this instant!” Holly commanded.
“It BUUUUUUUUUUUURNS!” Cactus Blossom wailed in a nasal whine.
“Of course it does you numbskull,” Graves snarked.
“Graves!” Holly shouted.
“I thought I was grabbing the jelly jar,” Cactus wheezed.
“Eeeeew there is a long gooey ropey green and yellow booger hanging out of Cactus’ nose!” Sassafras cried.
“Holly, I am going to need that jelly stuff for my plothole again, this is gonna burn later,” Cactus whined breathlessly.
“Eeeeeuuuugh she is going to have those farts that smell like burning hair again,” Graves said in disgust.
Cactus Blossom, snorking and horking, sucked the booger dangling out of her nostril back up into her nose, making Graves and Arroyo gag in disgust.
“Oh gross!” Candy Corn cried, watching the long booger slither up Cactus’ nose as Cactus hawked and gurgled.
“I can taste the booger in the back of my throat,” Cactus gagged.
“Bleeeeaaaargh!” Holly gagged and shuddered.
Sassafras threw her head back and began to laugh riotously, pointing with her claw.
Cactus continued to gargle the mucus in her throat as the burn from the spicy pepper sauce remained relentlessly lingering in her windpipe.
“The center will not hold!” Graves gagged, covering his face with his forehooves and watching everything around him in detached horror. “What rough beast is a pony, and who knows what horror lurks in the heart of Cactus Blossom!”
“Stop being a drama donkey!” Holly hollered, nearing the end of her rope already. Some days were great days with the foals. This was not one of them. And it had started out so well, with a helpful pegasus making breakfast.
“Exit dental crisis!” Arroyo announced helpfully.
“Yes, this is an exit dental crisis Arroyo,” Graves replied, nodding.
Noctilucent, at the stove, noticed the change. A part of his mind seized up for a moment, realising that something had changed between the donkey and the pink pony foal. Graves was clearly being Graves, but he was not having a laugh at Arroyo’s expense.
“If you foals don’t behave, I will not bake brownies later,” Noctilucent said in a low voice.
In an instant, the room had fallen silent, the only noticeable sound was Cactus Blossom’s laboured breathing. Every foal looked at one another, each one not wanting to be the one that caused the potential of brownies to go away. It was a powerful incentive. Potential brownies were important. They could manifest into real brownies.
“The cupboards have everything I need. Holly, only good foals get brownies, right?” Noctilucent said, leveling the playing field, knowing that he and Holly were badly outnumbered.
“Yeah,” Holly agreed. “No brownies. But you can still make brownies for us, and you and I can eat them. And maybe Quirky, because she is a good pony.”
Candy Corn whimpered softly, not liking the notion that there might be brownies that she could smell, but not eat.
“Oh, I can’t stand brownies,” Noctilucent quipped. “Too sweet. So Holly, you and Quirky can have them all to yourselves if the foals keep acting rotten.”
“What kind of pony doesn’t like brownies?” Graves asked as respectfully as possible. “And how can anything be too sweet?”
“I have never liked sweets. I prefer sour things. But I am told that I make ooey gooey brownies that are worth dying for,” Noctilucent admitted.
“Ooey gooey…” breathed Candy Corn softly, her shy sweet voice barely above a whisper.
“And I found a jar of marshmallow fluff too. S’mores brownies,” Noctilucent proclaimed, knowing he had the foals over a barrel now. “Hash browns are done. Holly?”
Holly lifted the heavy pan from the stove and levitated it to the table, keeping the hot iron away from the foals. She set it down upon a pot holder.
“Fancy toast is done too,” Noctilucent said.
The platter was also moved to the table and Noctilucent went to wash his wing in the kitchen sink before going to sit down.
Quirky moved to join them, Shortbread Cookie held aloft in her aura, wrapped in a blanket. She gently placed the foal down upon the table so the foal could sit and watch everypony.
Holly began serving plates, and placed some extra hash browns on Graves’ plate. “I am not sure you deserve those,” she muttered.
“Thank you Holly,” Graves replied in appreciation.
There was the clink of silverware as the foals began to tuck into their plates and Noctilucent sat there staring at his own plate of food, feeling thankful for having some sort of purpose.
The lazy afternoon stretch. It wasn’t quite naptime, it wasn’t a productive time, it was just a time to do something, whatever that something might be. Holly was taking a well deserved rest and watching over Shortbread Cookie. Noctilucent was back in the kitchen, and there would soon be brownies.
The foals were doing various activities. Some read, others played, and Graves was watching Arroyo construct a vast fortress out of wooden blocks as the donkey was reading.
A knock upon the door interrupted this quiet time. Holly, leaving Shortbread upon a pile of cushions, moved to answer the front door.
Opening the door, she saw a tall figure hunched over. It was a diamond dog. He was large, and was rather blue coloured, with grey speckles. The old hound was wearing dark sunglasses and a battered brown trilby hat. Behind him was a handcart loaded down with a few pieces of luggage. He stood, panting slightly.
“Ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat, his voice gritty and low as he panted. “Ma’am, I am Bloo Tick. I’m an old blues musician. And I’ve been hired by Princess Luna, the Eternally Blue, to give lessons to a cool chick named Sassafras.”
“Oh my,” Holly said. “Pull your cart around back off of the main road, and I’ll invite you in, you must be half cooked in this heat. I’ll make sure you get a cold drink.”
The old hound shuffled off, pulling his cart, heading off to the back of the building. Holly moved down the stairs, through the common room, up the back stairs, and opened the back door. She waited for the old hound, and then graciously led him inside, shutting the door behind them, and then escorted him to the kitchen table.
The foals watched the diamond dog with great interest as he was led into the kitchen and was given a tall glass of ice water and a bottle of orange soda from the fridge.
“Thank you ma’am,” the old hound said, removing his hat but not his glasses. He lapped up ice water out of his glass and sat silently, glad for a chance to cool off.
After cooling off and having several glasses of water, the old hound brought in several long cases, settled into a corner, and opened them, calling Sassafras over as he did so.
“Sassy, right?” Bloo asked.
“Yeah,” Sassy replied.
“Seems you have a kindly benefactor. Some blue fellow named Nocti-something or other. Made a deal with Princess Luna, the Eternally Blue so you could get some lessons,” Bloo explained.
“Noctilucent did this?” Sassy said in disbelief.
“Seems to think you have some talent. Now I have with me here a bass guitar, a six string guitar, and an old five string banjo, and we are gonna see if you can play them. And once you find something you like, Princess Luna is going to make sure you get a new one, because the world needs musicians,” Bloo said. “If the world didn’t have musicians, it’d go all mad and craaaay-zee like. Or maybe it already has.”
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” Sassy said, tearing off at a full speed run, her wings flapping crazily as she took off.
She ran for the kitchen door, disappearing around the corner. There was a surprised yelp, a grunt, a groan, some happy sounds, and after a few moments Sassy re-emerged from the kitchen, crying a bit but looking happy. She returned to Bloo and sat down, looking at the old hound with wide eyes.
“You a cool chick Sassy,” Bloo grumbled.
“I know it,” Sassy replied.
“Now, you and I, we have these claws. Makes us natural pickers. We don’t have have to use these to hurt nobody, and the constant strumming and picking will leave ‘em dull and harmless, so think of music as a way to get rid of all your aggression,” Bloo said, lifting his paw and flexing his digits at Sassy.
“I hate my claws,” Sassy said dejectedly.
“Well, I am gonna make you love them, Sassy chick,” Bloo announced. “Now pick up something and show me what you can do.”
Sassy sat down next to the guitar case, pulled it out, began to pluck a bit, then strummed, and then began to plink out a tune.
“Not bad. I have something to work with,” the old hound said.
“You really mean that?” Sassy gasped, her feathers fluffing out in all directions from her emotional state.
“I am a true blue Bloo,” Bloo replied. The old hound lowered himself to the floor and sat down, folding his hind legs, his joints popping a bit as he made himself comfortable. “Now you show that bass some love.”
Sassy handed the guitar to Bloo and carefully lifted the heavier wooden base out of its case. She held close to her, hugging it, and then began to pluck.
She was completely unaware of her fellow orphans watching her every move, their ears listening to her every sound. She was completely lost in the moment, experiencing a rare moment of true euphoric joy.
“Now Sassy chick, tell me, how is your schoolwork?” Bloo asked.
“I do alright. I struggle with my numbers a bit,” Sassy replied, still plucking.
“Well, if you ever do less than alright, these lessons stop. I won’t teach no illiterate feather brains. I might not be much, but I can read, I can write, and I can make music. You keep that in mind. And you pay attention in your lessons,” Bloo demanded.
Sassy nodded in reply.
Arroyo slowly left his place amidst the blocks and went over to sit down next to Bloo and Sassy. He remained quiet for a moment, and then, with his ears folded back and his eyes wide, he spoke: “Can I try?”
“You has the magic right?” Bloo asked.
Arroyo bobbed his head in reply.
“You ever played before?”
Arroyo shook his head no.
“Well, that don’t mean much,” Bloo replied, reaching out and tousling Arroyo’s brown mane with a paw. “Here, I hold it, and you try gently strumming the strings with your magic.”
Arroyo took an experimental strum, then another, and then began to pluck the strings, very much like Sassy was doing. The pink unicorn colt stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth and focused his concentration, and Bloo bobbed his head, causing his long floppy ears to waggle, as he listened to Sassy and Arroyo.
“This is gonna be groovy,” Bloo muttered. “Sassy chick, you take up that banjo. You… I want you to pluck this bass as I hold it.”
“I am Arroyo,” Arroyo said.
“That won’t do at all, we’ll have to come up with a suitable musician name for you sometime kiddo,” Bloo said.
“Really?” Arroyo asked.
“Yeah, cause you’re so pink that you must have the blues,” Bloo replied.
Sassy sat, now holding the banjo, and she gave an experimental pluck to the strings. “Oh, hey, I like this,” she murmured to herself.
“Now, you press here and here, then move your claws here and here, and then gently pluck those strings you are pressing on,” Bloo instructed. “And you, you just work on plucking the strings for now while I do me some pressin’ way up here,” Bloo said to Arroyo.
Something almost like music filled the room. Bloo nodded his head, his ears bobbing, his eyes completely obscured by his dark glasses.
The old hound smiled at his two students, and the lesson continued.
Noctilucent reclined on a pile of cushions, getting valuable cuddle time with Shortbread Cookie, who was very happy to see him. He trailed his snoot up and down her back, along her spine, back and forth, back and forth, causing the foal to melt between his forelegs where she lay cradled.
The foals were off eating brownies, and so was the old hound. He could hear Holly in the kitchen, laughing along with the others. They all sounded happy.
“I don’t need brownies, I have my Cookie,” Noctilucent said, his breath causing the foal to squirm. “I am not going to -yaaaaawn- make it till naptime,” Noctilucent confessed to Shortbread.
“Hwoo?” Shortbread babbled, sounding very much like a question.
“We could nap right here,” Noctilucent whispered. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Fwoonoo,” Shortbread replied, spraying drool as she spoke.
“You know, even with today being so perfect, I am feeling a bit depressed. I can’t even figure out why. I made breakfast. I watched over you. Sassy and Arroyo are learning music. I made brownies. And I still feel depressed. With everything I’ve done today, don’t I deserve to be happy?” Noctilucent muttered to the foal he was cuddling.
“Numumblefloo,” Shortbread answered, soaking Noctilucent’s face in drool.
“Part of me is happy I suppose. I just wish this sadness would go away. I need to talk with Lethe and see if she can help me,” Noctilucent whispered.
Noctilucent rested his head on the pillow beside the foal, sighing deeply. Shortbread Cookie immediately began to use his blue ear as a pacifier, slurping away on the tip, causing rivulets of drool to trickle down his ear and the side of his face. She let out a happy squeal and continued to do what she did best. Drool.
“Something is always leaking out of you. First liqui-poo, now drool. It is amazing that you don’t turn into a raisin,” Noctilucent said, slowly becoming saturated. “Plus, your farts can still put Cactus Blossom to shame. I don’t mind so much though. You’re cute.”
“Umnumnum,” Shortbread replied, gnawing on Noctilucent’s ear.
“I get to keep you,” Noctilucent whispered. “I guess this makes me a father. I’ve been thinking about that all day. I don’t even know what that means. I’ve never met my father. I am not totally sure what happened between him and my mother. He was never around. My grandmother said he was awful. He was loud, angry, and did bad things.”
Quite without meaning to do so, the pegasus slipped into a doze, drifting off into peaceful slumber, Shortbread Cookie cuddled up against his face. Still chewing on an ear, she too slowly slipped into a snooze, feeling warm and secure against the pegasus.
Noctilucent awoke with a snort, aware of some kind of commotion going on. He saw Princess Luna. And Gate Crasher. Holly stood nearby, looking distressed and staring into a basket.
“Whazzexactlygoinon?” Noctilucent mumbled as he struggled to wake up completely, his face soaked and his mane plastered to the side of his head. Shortbread was curled up beside him.
“We have a new resident,” Holly replied.
“She is a newborn,” Princess Luna said. “As it so often happens with pegasi, the wings tore free from the birth sac and there were complications. She became lodged. She struggled in the womb. The cord wrapped around her neck. Only one could be saved.”
Noctilucent rose, stretched, and made sure that Shortbread didn’t roll off the cushion. He crossed the room in a few steps and stopped, peering into the basket.
“Think you can handle another one?” Princess Luna asked. “If you say no, I have a few more places I can take her. The Las Pegasus foster homes and orphanariums are jam packed with foals so I brought her here first.”
“Holly, can we handle another one? Can I wear two harnesses or something?” Noctilucent asked.
“With Quirky helping us occasionally I think we can do a reasonable job of care and not be neglectful. I have my hooves full with the bigger foals, so most of this responsibility will fall upon you Noctilucent,” Holly replied.
“Princess Luna, about this one… Does the same deal apply?” Noctilucent asked.
Gate Crasher grunted and began to fidget.
“This is an awful lot to take on,” Princess Luna warned.
“But does it apply?!” Noctilucent replied forcefully.
“Yes,” Princess Luna agreed.
“Then she has a caretaker,” Noctilucent answered, accepting the responsibility offered to him.
“Good,” Gate Crasher growled. “I was worried the little fanged horror wouldn’t get a home.”
“Does this mean I am an entity now?” Noctilucent asked the lunar pegasus.
“No. Not to me. You’re still a non entity. But to them,” Gate Crasher gestured to both foals as he was speaking, “you are the the sun and moon. You give life. Don’t screw up, or I will trample you into putty.”
Noctilucent nodded, taking some small measure of hope from the lunar pegasus’ words. He peered into the basket. Inside there was a lunar pegasus foal. She was a dark dusky orange, with grey wings and a darker iron grey mane. She had bright orange eyes. “I have never seen a lunar pegasi with her colours before,” Noctilucent confessed.
“She is a rare colouration indeed,” Princess Luna confirmed. “Anyway, I must be going. Do not disappoint Gate Crasher. He is foul tempered and will be impossible to work with if you let him down.”
“Quirky isn’t going to have pretty teats no more, not with those little fangs.” Holly declared, wincing as she did so.
The pegasus named after the clouds of night looked down into the basket and stared at the second foal to be placed in his care. He lowered his head, pressed his nose against her, and then inhaled deeply.
For a brief second, his world became perfect.
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I loved this chapter sooooo much, just a perfect cool down and it's so damn cute!
4470737
Cool down is an interesting term, but I think it applies.
what was the deal? i've forgotten
4470775
Deal?
this one
4470776
4470799
Earlier chapter.
Luna promises to never take away something that Noctilucent loves, allowing him to keep Shortbread Cookie.
The Shadow knows.
Damn it, Nocty, now I want some of those brownies.
4470816
I had to stop typing the breakfast scene almost a dozen times to regain control of my self.
Well now that Sassy and Arroyo are playing music together... they need to find a Pegasus to play guitar and form a bluegrass band the likes of which the world has never seen! I say Pegasus because I can't help but see a Pegasus strumming the guitar with his or her feathers. Any way I love Bloo, admittedly I have an affinity for blues musicians =, but that's just because I love the blues as an art form. Also kudos to Nocty for somehow becoming the world's first non-pony father of two. Again I wish I could give this another gold star. Since I can't Bloo gets a kudos for telling Sassy to get educated.
An old dog teaching new trick. Nice.
4470805 ah ok, thanks
4466708
It was almost a tongue-in-cheek comment on my part... but now that you mention it, would that make Gustav Le Grande a "Love Poet of Food"? They do say that "the way to a mans heart is through his stomach", and if the genders being more socially equal is a thing then that would apply to "hens" as well.
Bloo made me smile.
4470832 feel better soon and befor i read this, is it a luna ship fic?
Some nice breathing space with a dash of d'aww.
Something about the interaction between Nocti and newborns just makes my ovaries quiver.
And the all hell broke loose. I think Shortbread is going to become very jealous of this new foal.
And thus I loved Graves
4471376
Something about hearing about your ovaries quivering makes my pineal gland quiver.
I am glad it made you happy.
4471376
I could give a long drawn out explanation as to why that is, nothing more then basically psychology, but its much easier to sum it up in two words:
"Kid alert!"
Bloo Tick I imagine having the coolest voice around. I get the feeling I'm gonna really like him.
4470741 Cool down, calm before the storm or being in the eye of the hurricane. These are all words I would use to describe this chapter, he's on the path to recovery but something is going to happen and I can't wait to see what.
4471288
Luna is not a boat.
4473464 what? No! What I ment by a ship fic is a luna x oc fic. U know, luna
oc.
4473495
Oh, I know that.
I still answered that Luna is not a boat.
4473503 *frustrated self slap to the face*
4473503 btw I love ur profile avatar, the chrome pony is adorable!
4473542
Thanks!
I love Chrome. And I use a Chromebook named Cloudburst.
A black HP 11 Chromebook.
31.media.tumblr.com/b6c0dfd977c2a9793a82211d740c471a/tumblr_n631mqTjib1s9h6d8o1_1280.jpg
I very much enjoy this story and appreciate how often you update it. Please keep up the amazing work.
Holy hell! I put this story on the back burner and now there are 15 new chapters!?!
Your Speedy Gonzalez with the updates! 
4471523 i would just like to say oh myyyy
*facepalms* A literal blues hound. A literate, literal blues hound. -____-
Some people say that puns are the lowest form of humor. But some people are really good at limbo.
"There was a crooked pegasi who walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked orphan upon a crooked stile. He got a crooked girlfriend who would make a crooked spouse. And they all lived together in a little crooked house."
4474867
He has a brother too.
But he is in a penitentiary, getting material for new songs.
Once traded a wagon for a microphone.
Am I right in reading that the new lunar foal has only one wing? Or did she have a twin that died in-utero? I am a little confused by the wording of how Luna is describing the foals situation to Nocty.
4474875
Two wings.
I reread it. Not sure how one wing was concluded.
Wing tore free from placental sack.
Think breach birth, unable to pass foals because wings are not secured to sides. Like trying to pull an open umbrella down a chimney.
As for one saving one, that is obvious.
Save mother or save foal. You only see one.
And thus I finally reached back all that I accidentally left aside!
4474880 Actually, i had a similar feeling...only i though there were a twin that could not be saved....
4471680
dude, really? (i am going to face-hood so hard!)
4472488
I imagined him with this voice:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ray_Charles
'Fancy toast?' And I though I was one of the only people who would make a joke like that; cheers to you anyways.
By your cannon, what is the difference between a lunar and solar Pegasus, except having bat wings and fangs... and being born with teeth? History? Culture? Biology?
Giggled quite a bit during the breakfast.
And Gate Crasher is staying at the orphanage now? Oh boy...
4483741
Oh, my dear fellow Brony, you spake the magic words. Part of one of my 'fix includes a very detailed and lengthy exposition on the origins of the Bat Pony race, at least, as I see it. and, where applicable, I don't typically stray from established timelines. Perhaps, for you, I could put a Rush-RUSH order on it?
History, culture biology, you name it. Forgive me if I'm jumping the gun here a bit.
Brownies are what keeps things together...
alright