Chapter 7: Raspberry Rose
The last snows were swept away in the Winter Wrap Up last week, but a chill clung to the morning and set dew to every surface.
Roseluck brushed the dew off the little raspberry bush that was growing steadily in its own plot. I’ll need to move you soon, little girl. You can’t stay here, but I know the perfect place to put you. Rose glanced over at a new plot she was building with Post’s help at the base of a tree. Three logs lay stacked against the tree, and she’d already started urging the tree’s roots deeper into the ground.
She sat down carefully on a cushion and pushed her hooves into the soil around the plant. Raspberry Rose woke in her womb and stirred while the magic flowed from Roseluck’s heart to the ground, spreading around the roots and bolstering it for the move. Her daughter joined her, sending a weak tendril of encouragement into the soil.
She watched as the bush’s little buds bloomed, and pulled back her magic when they uncurled their white petals. The bees and the butterflies still needed to do their part before the flowers would bloom again into ripe, red little berries.
“Just like you,” Rose said, wiping off her hoof against the cushion before stroking her belly. Her daughter’s light kick brought a smile to her face. “Yes, not long now, dear. Just be patient.”
“I have been,” Post said gently, kissing her cheek. “I’m off to work. I’ll see you this afternoon. Swift will be by later to spend the morning with you.”
“She doesn’t really need to—”
He bumped her nose gently. “She wants to. Let her do this, Rose.”
“I’ll be glad to have her here, then. What about her deliveries, though?”
“Bright Eyes is swapping shifts with her.”
The town, or at least a small part of it, was coming together for her and making sure that she wanted for nothing. No matter how many times she felt that sense of community, that feeling of neighbors looking out for her, it always filled her heart to bursting. This is a good town to raise a family.
“P-please give her my thanks,” Rose said, choking on the joy that rushed through her. “I just wish you—”
“Shh... we need the income. Our savings haven’t recovered quite yet.”
“I know, but...” Looking down, Rose smiled. “I want you to be there for when she gets here.” She sat back and stroked both front hooves over the swell of her belly. “She wants to meet her daddy.”
“I will be there.” Post rubbed his neck against hers, and stroked her flank with a gentle hoof. “Why do you think a pegasus will be with you for almost the entire day?”
Rose pulled her mane back from her eyes and stared at the plot she had just finished tending to. A dozen sub-sections held lilies of every color, each one just starting to burst from the still chilly ground. They wouldn’t bloom for another week, but the bulbs all showed two or three sprouts, with more just waiting for her to touch them with her magic.
“You’re all doing well.” She paused to look over at the sundial nestled amid a slowly spreading sea of monkey-grass. The narrow line of shadow was advancing towards late morning and she still hadn’t seen either Swift or Bright. “I suppose it’s just as well. Raspberry’s been quiet for the last quarter hour or so.”
“Roseluck!” Bright Eyes called to her from high up, coming in for a frantic dive, and pulled up at the last moment with a powerful back-sweep of her wings to come in for a rough landing.
“Whoa, Bright, what’s going on?”
“You weren’t at the market, and your dad was confused and he thought—” Bright shook herself all over. “Rose, I meant to come find you right away, but your dad—” she took a deep breath. “Something happened. I had to see him to the hospital first.”
It all came out in a rush, and Rose stared at her, dread gnawing at her stomach while her mind processed what Bright had said. “Dad?” She winced as a strong twinge ran along her back and around her stomach.
“He was in good hooves when I left him. He didn’t...” she shook her head. “He’s alive.”
“Oh, thank the Sisters.” She stood up, grunting as another twinge ran around her stomach. “Let’s go.”
“Are you okay? You—”
“Fine. Just...” Rose shook her head and started off gingerly down the path towards the street. “Let’s get there.”
“It’s Raspberry, isn’t it?’ Bright stepped close and spread a wing over Rose’s back. The next contraction swept down her back, and the wing twitched in response. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
Rose glanced at her. “I know. To...” She shook her head, a weak smile on her face. “I know.”
“Right! Just a moment, let me see if there are any ponies with empty carts. Don’t move.” Bright Eyes galloped up the road to the market, bounded, then leapt into the sky with a flap of her wings.
Rose stood on the grassy patch between the road and her fence, waiting for her friend to get back while the contractions came closer together and more powerful.
Minutes, feeling like hours, passed while she waited. Most of the town was still out helping to finish planting and tending to fields, streams and the last few straggling critters who fell under their domain of care, and only a few ponies wandered through her part of town, most intent on their own tasks.
But Bright did come back, with a bright red, blond maned earth pony stallion hauling a cart with loose hay.
“I had to go all the way to the Apple farm to find anypony with a cart! I didn’t realize how busy today was going to be.”
“Don’t worry, Bright. You’re here, and I don’t have to walk the whole way. Hello, Big Mac,” Rose said quietly, straining to keep her voice level as a powerful contraction ripped around her stomach.
“Howdy.”
“Thank you so much,” Bright Eyes said, alighting on the front of the cart.
“She’s AJ’s friend. I ain’t gonna sit idle.” He nodded towards the cart.
Rose waited for the next contraction to pass before she climbed up into the low back. “Fast as you can, please... the contractions are—” Rose’s legs quavered as a strong one gripped her, pain rippling up her spine and down her hind legs. “Oh, oh! I think—” She panted and lay down in the bristly hay. “Please hurry!”
“Eeyup.”
Big Mac pulled quickly, though Rose knew the strong stallion could have gone much faster. But, as rough as the ride was, Rose was grateful that he hadn’t. By the time they arrived at the hospital, the contractions were just a hair over three minutes apart according to Bright Eyes, and powerful enough to make Rose’s vision dim from the pain.
“Three contractions,” Bright Eyes said to the nurse who came to the cart. “Or three minutes apart.” She shook her head and pointed a hoof at Rose. “Her dad’s in here too, and she’s about to pop.”
“D-dad’s in the hospital,” Rose grunted around another contraction. “P-please tell me he’s okay.”
“Lucky Day? He’s resting. Rose, we need to get you to the maternity ward.”
Unable to do more than nod and let her head flop back down to the hay after the contraction passed, Rose looked up at Bright Eyes. “Post... please find him.”
“Aye-aye!” She saluted haphazardly and leapt skyward with a powerful downsweep of her wings.
Minutes later, Roseluck was in a private room in the maternity ward, laying down on a sloping mattress that cradled her and kept her in place throughout the increasingly powerful contractions coming closer together. A soft spacer was wedged between her hind legs, and a clean blanket covered her hindquarters, sparing her from some of the indignity of giving birth.
“How are you feeling?” her journeymare midwife asked. She had introduced herself as Honeysuckle when Dr. Cure had come in to see her for the first time, and maintained a cooling spell on her back that helped to numb the wracking pain around her midsection—at least a little.
“As well as can be—” Stars shot through her vision as another contraction passed through her.
“Breathe, Rose,” Honeysuckle said gently, sending a cool rag to wipe her brow. “Remember to breathe.”
The door opened, and Bright Eyes peeked inside. “Rose? Post Haste is here.” She backed off and held open the door. Post was out of his uniform and covered head to hoof in light blue cotton scrubs.
Honeysuckle looked up at him and smiled. “You must be the father-to-be! I’m Honeysuckle and I’ll be assisting Honey Cure in the birthing. I’m her niece!”
“Uh...” Post stared at the bed, the small tub and numerous accoutrements surrounding the bed. “Hi. Where’s Dr. Cure? Is my wife alright? Is—”
“Post, come here,” Rose said, panting as another contraction came and went like an aftershock. “I need you.”
He was there in the next moment, his cheek pressed to hers and a cotton-covered hoof stroking under her chin. “I’m here.”
“S-she’s coming,” she said. Another spasm racked her, stifling her attempt to scream as she felt something inside rupture and felt a pressure she’d grown used to over the last several months let go.
Honeysuckle sniffed, lifted the blanket for a moment, and then dashed to the door.
“Somepony find Honey Cure! Her water’s broken!”
Time dragged her through an agony of panting and trying to remember her breathing while her foal was splitting her in two, breath by agonizing breath. Dr. Cure rushed in at some point, and her voice blurred into an incoherent babble of words.
A brief respite, her body too tired to continue. Post was there still, his forelegs tangled with hers. She couldn’t recall if he’d left or if he’d been there the whole time.
“Get ready, Rose. I know it’s difficult, but you need to push one more time.” Honey Cure said, her head peeked above the raised blanket, her muzzle covered in a mask. “When I say push, I need you to push as hard as you can.”
Rose nodded, curling her ankle more tightly around Post’s. She took a deep breath, then another, and let them out.
“Push, Rose, push!”
She did. She screamed.
Stars shot through her vision, almost gone white, as her body refused to push any more. Something pulled, stretched and slid.
“I see hooves!”
“Good, Rose. Keep pushing.”
Her world was a white slate of pain, from her hindquarters to her head. Only the hooves holding her head still and Post Haste whispering unheard platitudes in her ear kept the pain from whitewashing everything.
“I’ve got her hooves, HS, get her head out of the placenta. Push, Rose. Push!”
“I AM pushing!” she screamed, vision going white as she pushed again, embracing the pain. Her body protested, and she felt more sliding, more tearing and ripping as the life that had grown inside her finally slipped free.
“Good, Rose, good. Relax now.”
Ripples of pain still coursed over her, but they were muted by the joy that burst free from those words. It was over.
“Roseluck, Post Haste... meet your daughter.”
A golden hue covered the small foal as she drifted up to settle in a swaddle of blankets. She was wrinkled all over, and her coat was glistening wet with afterbirth, but she was moving, and she was looking right at Roseluck. She was beautiful.
“Raspberry Rose, my little Raspberry.” She choked, her mind blank. What do you say when you meet your child for the first time? “Hello.”
Raspberry Rose, her daughter, her beautiful daughter, opened her mouth... and threw up.
She faded away, as did the sunshine and warmth of the blanket, the sound of her husband’s sobbing, joyous laugh.
“No! Come back! Please!” Rose bolted up from the birthing bed and stumbled out of it. “I need to see her!” She fell to the floor, but the memory retreated still, the details blurring and fading away into their place in her mind.
She stopped, closed her eyes, and focused on them. So recent in her memory... she watched again as Raspberry was tucked in close, the clear liquid wiped off her face and felt her daughter latch on for a first meal.
Dr. Cure was still there, and Honeysuckle too, measuring her and watching her, checking her ears and eyes. Rose didn’t need to hear it from them to know that she was a healthy baby filly. She could feel it, and see it.
She clung to it for as long as she could, until the sound of hooves on wood brought her back to the otherwise silent reality. Calmer, with the memory of her daughter wrapped around her like a warm blanket, Rose waited.
Mirror came around the corner, looking away from Roseluck. She held a rose in her mouth.
“You’re not going to push me away?”
The rose fell to the floor. “I want to. But I couldn’t stay. Not while you were screaming.” Mirror shuddered. “A silent room, filled with your screams. So much pain.” She sat and lifted a hoof to her heart. “It hurt to hear. I knew it was you giving birth, but there was nothing I could do to help. I ran.”
“I did, too. Remember?”
“That’s different! I was pushing you to accept something that wasn’t true! You need to go back, Rose. You need to be with them!” Mirror pushed the rose across the floor. It bounced and rolled and came to a rest against Rose’s hoof.
The urge to dive into the memory sucked at her. She could smell the rose: hospital sheets, antiseptic, and her warm, clean foal tucked in close. ”I do. I want to go back, and I will. I want to hold my family close.” Rose shook her head. “But I can’t abandon my friend to her suffering.”
“Its suffering. I’m not even real. I want to forget you and just believe that I’m Pinkie again.” Mirror looked back at the door, started to stand, and fell back to her haunches. “But I can’t—I don’t want to forget that I’m me.”
“You don’t want to forget that—” Rose shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would you just stop being you?”
“If I forget that I’m not Pinkie... then who am I? Am I Pinkie?” Mirror huffed and looked down at the floor. “But I’m not. I know that I’m not Pinkie. But she doesn’t know she isn’t.”
“She who? I’m not sure I understand, Pinkie.”
“Stop calling me that. I’m just Mirror, and I’m not the one you met outside your house. She was. Old me. The Pinkie that thought she was Pinkie.” Mirror shook her head. “I don’t want to be a clone anymore, but I don’t want to stop being me.”
“I will try, but only because I know you’re your own pony. You’re not the lie you claim you are.” Rose shook her head. “But I don’t understand, how could you stop being you? Even when I forgot, I never stopped being me.”
“How? Forget that you were ever here. Forget what I learned. Forget that... I’m not me. Who am I? Am I just a copy? Am I my own pony? Everything I remember is Pinkie, but I’m not her.” Mirror stood up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want to be happy. I want to be—” She stared down at the floor for a long moment, her ears twitching.
“I want you to be happy, too. I want you to—”
“Want who?” Mirror lifted her head, ears flat to her skull. “Me? Or Pinkie? Who am I? Tell me! Who!” She advanced on Rose, her tail flicking. “No, don’t.” She shook her head and stamped a hoof. “You can’t stay here. You need to go back. You need to leave me alone! Let me be who I want to be!”
Pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.
“...I was happier—alone and believing what I wanted to believe...”
“...I dreamed I was...”
“I want to be happy.”
“Not until you explain this to me. I want to know why! Why do you want to let go of who you are?” Rose stood up, tail flicking back and forth, and stepped over the rose. “I want to know why, after watching me suffer because I kept running away from my past, you would want to go through the same agonies.”
“Because I’m broken. I can’t be who I want to be and be me. I can’t be—” Mirror broke off, shaking her head and sobbing. “I remember.”
“You’re not!” Rose stamped a hoof and lowered her head, ears flat. “You are not broken. You’re not just Mirror. You’re my friend, and it hurts to see you like this.” Rose shook herself and lifted her head. “Tell me why, Pinkie—Mirror. Tell me why you want to forget who you are.”
“Why? WHY?” Mirror took another step forward, her voice rising into a hysterical screech. “I’m not real!” She shuddered, the fire leaving her eyes and her voice, but the tears kept flowing. “When you leave me here, who will remember me? When you leave here, won’t the real Pinkie...” She sighed and turned aside from Rose. “How much do you think it hurts to realize that if I passed on, there would be nopony who would miss me? You’ve got the real Pinkie over there to take my place. What am I, next to her?”
“I would miss you.” Rose shook her head and reached out to touch Mirror’s shoulder. “She’s not you, either. Whatever happened that day, the two of you became different ponies. You might be her twin, but you are not her.”
“But I am! Don’t you see that? Why can’t you see that she and I—we’re—the same pony! Only she’s real, and I’m just a flawed copy.”
“Pinkie—” Rose shook her head and looked back at the rose behind her. “Mirror, when...” she trailed off, her mind a fog of conflicting wants, and needs. Her daughter’s cries waited for her faintly in the corners of her mind, along with the smell of her, of Post, and of their family together for the first time. She pulled the warmth of the memory around her again, and smiled. “You reunited me with my family. Thanks to you, I have hope. I could never forget what you gave me.”
“But I’m not even—”
“Shut up!” Rose snapped, glaring at her. “You’re real!” She tapped a hoof on the floor. “If you’re not real, then what am I? Am I not real either?”
“Of course you are! Why else would your memories be everywhere?”
“And what of you? I remember, even after I’d forgotten almost everything about my family, there were still pieces. I knew, Mirror. I knew something was missing, something important. It terrified me, knowing there was something just out of reach that would hurt so much if I could only remember it, but wanting to anyway.” Rose stepped further away from the memory, though it tugged at her heart to do so, and pulled Mirror into a tight embrace. “That isn’t happiness. You asked me who I wanted to be happy. You, Mirror. I want you to be happy.”
“I do, too. That’s why—”
“No, Mirror. It will haunt you. I promise you.” Rose shook her head. “It haunted me; it nearly killed me. I would miss you if... I will miss you, but please, please don’t forget about me.”
Mirror slumped against her. “I think I understand, now.”
“Do you?”
Mirror nodded. “I do. I promise.” She pulled away from the hug, and pushed Roseluck back towards the rose laying on the ground. “You still need to go back to your family. I promise that I’ll think about what you said.”
Rose smiled back at her. “Do that.”
Rose lay in bed, watching Post as he talked with Bright Eyes through the door. She couldn’t hear what was being said, and it didn’t matter to her. Raspberry—freshly cleaned, dried, and bundled in clean linens—was tucked between her fore and hindlegs, taking her second meal after having thrown up most of her first.
Raspberry’s dark pink coat stood out against Rose’s creamy one, and the fuzzy mohawk of a mane running between her ears was long enough to start showing some of her father’s distinctive curl. Her eyes were closed still, but Rose could tell she was awake from the way she moved and pressed her muzzle against Rose’s belly.
“Thank you, Bright Eyes, for staying around, and for playing courier.”
“Sure thing! I’ll be back if there’s anything else.” She poked her head through the door and covered a squeak with a hoof, then scooted back out before. Rose heard the other mare exclaiming to the nurses outside just how adorable she was.
“Anything about Swift?” Rose asked quietly after the commotion petered out and wandered down the hall.
“She’s out and about. Bright said she’ll be here in an hour or so.” Post came to sit at the edge of the bed and nuzzled Raspberry gently. “She’s hungry.”
“She is.” Rose bent her neck to lip her daughter’s ear, then lay back down. “Anything... else?” She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear what she feared, but needing to know.
“He’s doing fine. Resting, like you need to be.” Post shook his head lightly, then kissed her neck. “If something important happens, I promise I’ll tell you. You need to rest now, Rose. She might not be directly in tune with your emotions anymore, but I don’t doubt she can taste your worry.”
“Can she?” Rose jerked her head up and stared down at Raspberry. “I don’t want her to worry, too.”
“Shh.” Post pushed her head back down. “You’ve had a long day today. Just relax. Take a nap, if you can. I’ll be right here.”
Rose nodded, let out a sigh, and settled her head into the pillow. Moments after closing her eyes, the exhaustion she’d held at bay through sheer force of will tugged her down into a dreamless sleep.
A hoof stroking her ear, then a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, brought her back awake. She blinked against the golden glare in the room. White walls were painted in the colors of sunset, and long shadows crept steadily upwards.
“Post?”
“Right here.” He trotted around the bed. “I didn’t think you’d be awake so soon.”
“Where’s Raspberry?”
“In the nursery. The nurses are keeping a close eye on the new foals.” Post said, smiling when Rose relaxed. “There were two more births today. Another filly and a colt.”
“And Swift?”
“Watching your daughter. I couldn’t get her to leave the viewing room.” He chuckled and looked over his shoulder at the door. “She’s only got eyes for her granddaughter.” He looked away, swallowing.
Her heart leapt into her throat. “What?”
“Your dad...” Post shook his head, and swallowed hard. “He’s been bed-bound and—” Post swallowed again, tears in the corners of his eyes. “He’s having difficulty talking.”
“Oh, daddy.” Rose choked on fears come true, and worries darted in to needle her thoughts. Formless, and vague, they nonetheless dredged up images of her father, each worse than the last. “What happened?”
“A stroke, they said.” Post stroked her cheek gently with his nose, his eyes full of tears waiting to be shed. “Don’t worry too much about him. He’s, well, he’s got high hopes, and he’s taking it better than I did.” He forced a smile, but it wavered and slipped away. “He’s smiling as much as he can.”
“I need to go see him.” Rose kicked the sheets off and rolled to her stomach. Post was there to help her down, bracing himself against her flank as she slid to the floor. “Can you make sure I’m decent?” She looked away, feeling her cheeks heat.
Post chuckled once and nuzzled her cheek. “You are. Both you and Raspberry got a cleaning while you were dead asleep. I was surprised you didn’t wake up.”
“I’m not. I am so glad I don’t remember half of what happened. I remember a lot of pain, yelling, and—” she shook her head again as a shiver ran down her spine. “Do I at least not look like a deflated water balloon? Because I feel like one.” She kicked a hind hoof up to brush against her belly, where little Raspberry had travelled with her for nearly a year. It felt odd, to not feel her moving, and to not feel the tiny spark of magic mingling with her own.
“You’re still beautiful, Roseluck. You always have been. To me, you always will be.” He snickered and butted his head against her flank. “You do not look like a popped water balloon.”
“Deflated,” Rose said, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Not yet, dear. I’m afraid that he’s still being seen by Dr. Axon, our brain specialist, and there’s to be no interference in the examination,” the nurse at Lucky Day’s door said gently. “Why don’t you go on down to the maternity ward and see your baby girl. I’ll send a runner when it’s okay to see him.”
Self-conscious of her sagging belly, and wishing she’d at least tried to tie a sheet around her barrel to hide it, Rose allowed herself to be herded down the hall. “Is there a hospital gown I can wear? I’m feeling a little droopy.” Rose lifted a hoof to brush against her belly again.
A few minutes, and a quickly foraged gown later, Rose and Post followed the nurse, Warm Heart, down the hall to the maternity viewing room. Four ponies waited inside: a family of three—a mare and stallion showing their eldest colt a pink bassinet holding his young sister—and then there was her mother-in-law standing alone and staring into the silent nursery at the only other foal.
“Raspberry Rose has been an absolute gem,” Warm Heart said quietly, knocking once to announce herself before opening the door. “She was confused at first, but she settled down very quickly in her bassinet once we got her bathed and dried off again.”
“Did she cry?”
“Just a little. She warmed up to Redheart very quickly, though, and settled back down.” Warm Heart laughed, “She’s well behaved, that’s for sure, and she looked happy, too. Much more than some foals I’ve seen come through here.”
“Roseluck! Post Haste!” Swift Delivery pulled herself away from the window with a visible effort, “Oh, my dears! She’s so beautiful! More than I could have imagined.”
Swift’s infectious smile spread to Rose. “She is, isn’t she?” Rose trotted to Swift and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for being here. Today has been—” She shook her head and sighed. “Joy, heartache, fear, relief... I don’t even know how to describe today.”
“Of course.” Swift sat back and pulled Rose in closer. “Just focus on one thing at a time. Be a mom first, and fill your heart with joy. It will help.” Her smile turned sad, and she turned her attention to Post. “It helps.”
Roseluck, Post and Swift waited in the maternity ward, watching as doctors and nurses came and went to poke and prod at Raspberry and the other newborn foal. The family of three had taken their baby colt home already, and the mother of the last had come and gone with her husband some time past.
Time dragged, at times slowing to a crawl while Roseluck watched her daughter sleeping, and the reflection of the clock standing against the far wall showed just how slowly time was passing.
Thoughts of her father kept popping into her mind, no matter how she tried to push them aside. There was nothing she could do until later. But fears and worries continued to nip at her mind, stealing away some of the joy of watching her baby girl sleeping. She isn’t worried, right now. She had had as great an ordeal as her mother, and it was no wonder she was as tired as she was.
“How long is she going to sleep?” Post asked, leaning against Roseluck, and looking at his mother.
“You slept until midnight, when you got hungry again,” Swift said, nuzzling her son’s neck. “Then you slept until morning after I fed you.”
“She’ll sleep as long as she needs to,” Rose added, leaning against Post and nuzzling the other side of his neck. “She had quite the trip today, and she hasn’t been able to rest much—not with the doctors poking and prodding her.”
Post sighed and shook his head. “I just want to hold her.” He pushed himself up to sit straight, hooves braced on the windowsill, and looked down into the woven bassinet. “She looks so lonely in there.”
“Soon, dear. Dr. Cure said they wanted to have her go through a normal potty routine before they let her go.” Rose sat up with him and looked down into the basket. “I already know she’s perfect, but the peace of mind will help.”
The door behind them opened to admit Warm Heart again, followed by a blonde coated unicorn stallion in a white lab coat.
“Rose, this is Dr. Axon,” Warm Heart said, looking around the waiting area. “He’d like to talk to you about your father.”
“O-of course.” Rose pushed herself away from the glass and turned to bump hooves with the unicorn. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s mine, Roseluck,” he said with a smile. “Your father is quite the trooper, and is actually rather impatient to get out of bed. Something about...” Dr. Axon blinked and looked around. “Oh, right. Congratulations!”
“Thank you.” Rose sat back down, and Post joined her. “My father, how is he?”
“For a stallion his age, with his health problems, he’s doing remarkably well. The pox scarring in his lungs is what caused the largest problem, I think, and likely the cause of his stroke.”
“Yes.” Rose took a deep breath. “He’s had that for... since I was a filly.” She closed her eyes against the bitter memories. “The epidemic.”
Dr. Axon touched her shoulder gently. “Of course. I was just a med student then, but I remember.” He paused, then dropped his hoof. “I think the clot that caused your father’s stroke came from a cluster of deep scars in his lungs. I’ve done what I could with magic to clear the clot, but even with the best spells I know, there’s only so much that I can do.”
Fear seized Rose’s heart in an icy claw. “Is... what...”
Post turned and pulled her into an embrace, tucking her head under his chin. “What does that mean?”
“He’s having trouble speaking, and the left half of his face is partially paralyzed.” Axon shook his head. “He’s very, very lucky. Strokes are a serious, serious matter, and to have gotten care when he did likely saved his life.”
“How is he doing now?” Post asked, stroking Rose’s back gently while she regained her composure.
“He’s doing very well. He’s rather chipper, considering, and he’s itching to get out of bed. I almost had to have a nurse sit on him to get him to stay put after that grey mare came by to visit.” He chuckled. “He’ll be fine, as long as he gets his rest and minds his condition.”
“He’s a resident at the Ponyville Retirement Home,” Rose said, pulling away from Post after settling herself. “I’ll talk to them about his level of activity, but he’s a voluntary resident there, so there’s not a lot I can do to—” Rose shook her head. “He would just resent me attempting to set restrictions on what he can do, but I’ll talk to him.”
“That’s good. Very good.” Dr. Axon glanced at the clock. “It’s late, but since you’re also here, I’ll see what I can do to sneak you in to see him. Just don’t tell Nurse Cold Heart.” He winked. “It is technically past visitation hours.”
Warm Heart laughed. “You do know she’s my sister, right? She is so going to hear that.”
“Do you see what I have to deal with?” Dr. Axon sighed theatrically and let himself be pushed out of the room. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
In spite of her fears, Rose giggled.
“See, he’s going to be fine.” Swift said, finally turning away from the window. “Now let’s see about breaking your baby girl out of jail and taking her with us.” She grinned and pointed a hoof at the nurse’s entrance.
Dr. Axon was as good as his word. Fifteen minutes later, Rose, Post, and Swift followed Warm Heart down the hall. Post pushed the cart holding Raspberry Rose—still asleep, despite the commotion of getting her checked out.
Night was on the brink of falling, and red lined shadows of trees and distant hills crawled up the walls. Lights down in Ponyville were flickering to life—both the steady fae-lights of unicorn powered lanterns and the flickering golden glow of gas and older oil lanterns. Within the hospital, steady white light flickered on from the panels installed in the ceiling, and banished the growing shadows.
“No matter how often I see that, it’s still eerie,” Warm Heart murmured. “I suppose it’s better than worrying about the hospital burning down or having the unicorn lamps interfere with surgery, but even so, it looks weird.”
Rose, walking beside the basket on wheels, shrugged. “I lived in Manehattan for a number of years. Electricity is everywhere out there, thanks to the wind turbines in the buildings.”
“I envy you so much. I’ve not been farther than the next town down the road since, well, ever.”
“What about Canterlot?” Rose asked, looking outside. “I could have sworn I remember you went to school there. Didn’t Canterlot start the electricity craze?”
“Yes, but that was my older sister. I know she looks a lot like me, but she went to the fancy-dancy medical school, not me.” Warm Heart chuckled. “I apprenticed as a midwife in Honey Mead Hill, then trained here to become a nurse. They were pretty slow to adopt anything, out there. I think they got their first electric lamp in the tavern just last year.”
“I heard you hadn’t followed your sister,” Swift said from behind Post’s shoulder, craning her neck to get a glimpse of Raspberry.
“We just had different goals that ended up leading us to the same place, I guess.” Warm Heart flicked an ear dismissively. “Anyway, my first encounter with electricity was at the library seven years ago when they installed the wiring, back when Cheerilee was splitting her time between the library and the schoolhouse.”
“I didn’t know Cheerilee ran the library,” Post added, lifting his head long enough from pushing the cart to look between the two mares. “I’ve never had that part of town on my mail route, I guess.”
“It was before you became a full time mailpony, dear,” Swift said. “I remember clearly; she was so overworked then—a new teacher fresh out of school, and she had a library and a school to run.” Swift clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I’m so glad that Twilight agreed to take over her duties. She’s much happier as a full time school teacher.”
Raspberry opened her eyes and made a popping noise with her mouth, then settled back down. Rose looked at Swift. “Is she hungry?”
“Maybe. I think she was telling us to be quiet, though,” she said, laughing softly. “It takes a lot of energy to be born.”
The nurse’s station where Warm Heart stopped had a panel of lights and switches. Most of the ones with the switches up were lit up green, and the few switched down weren’t lit at all. Names on paper badges hung below the switches, and Lucky Day’s was green.
“Fifteen minutes,” the nurse on duty said, a white coated mare with a blue heart cutie mark. “And only because Dr. Axon gave his approval.”
“Thanks, sis.” Warm Heart winked and led them a few more doors down to Lucky’s room. “We need to stay quiet, too. Other patients will be trying to get to sleep.” She paused, then pushed open the door, “Lucky, I’ve got some visitors for you.”
Rose walked in first, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, smiling at them. But only half of his mouth curved in a smile. The right half was locked in a droop, and his eye was covered with a bandage.
“Dad...”
Post coughed softly.
Rose pushed aside her grief, and gathered her composure. “Dad, meet your granddaughter.” She stepped aside to let Post Haste through. “Raspberry Rose, this is your grampy.”
“Helloth, Rathbelly,” Lucky said slowly. He shook his head, his smile growing on the working half of his face as she woke up and blinked at him. “Ca I holth her?”
Rose glanced at Warm Heart, who smiled, and nodded. She lifted the neck strap attached to the swaddling blanket and, with Warm Heart’s help, lifted the barely awake Raspberry out of the bassinet and tucked her close with one foreleg. Raspberry closed her eyes and breathed in deeply with her muzzle tucked in close against Rose’s neck.
“She loves her mother’s scent,” Warm Heart said quietly.
Rose stopped in the middle of the room, looking down at her daughter nestled in the crook of her leg. Raspberry was so small, but having her close soothed away the fears burdening her heart. The smell of her clean coat, the warmth of her body, and the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, so close to sleep that her eyes only fluttered when Rose ducked her head to nuzzle her cheek. All of her was perfect.
Post brushing against her side, then Swift joining him on her other side broke Rose from her trance, and she took the last few steps to the bed, her heart feeling lighter. “Dad, I love you so much. And I’m so—” Rose choked and blinked away tears. “I’m so glad you’re here to see her.”
He only nodded and swallowed, his left foreleg stretched out to make a space for Raspberry by his side. Rose settled her down and stayed close, the neck strap still firmly around her neck.
She watched, heart breaking, as Lucky Day smiled his half smile; the other half drooped with a thin trail of drool dripping to an absorbent pad on his chest. But he’s happy right now. Try to be happy for him, Rose. He did what he wanted to do.
Post joined her, his foreleg over her back, and nuzzled her cheek. Swift sat on her other side and gave the same support, and a wing across both of their backs.
“We’re a family,” Rose said. “Welcome to the family, Raspberry.”
The warmth of her husband, mother-in-law and the close scent of her father and daughter drifted away to leave Roseluck staring at an empty hospital bed with a single, bright rose resting where her father had been. The void in her mind grew smaller still.
“You’re still a family, Rose.” Mirror sat on the other side of the bed, looking across at her.
“He had a stroke, Mirror.” Rose shook her head. “I don’t know. Is he still alive?”
Mirror pushed the rose at her. “Only one way to find out.”
The rose smelled of many things, a cacophony of scents both agreeable and foul. A rush of images tugged at her when she bent to sniff it, filling her mind with a life rushing by at a frantic pace.
Spring days rushed by in a blur of small details and the frantic pace of adjusting to life with a newborn foal. Her life became a mire of diapers filled with unholy stench, the pain of acclimating to teat-feeding, and awkward, sleepless nights. But the joys of having a warm body tucked in close to her, while another lay against her back... that exultant wonder blurred almost everything else into a warm rush of memory.
The rush slowed as the weeks turned into a month; expenses piled up, nipping away at the small savings they had managed to squirrel away for when Raspberry came.
“...and the cloth diaper service bill is coming due on Sunday. Five bits, and two spades.” Post sighed and pushed a small pile of bits and two smaller spades into a bag. “Leaving us with...” he looked up at the larger pile that Rose was still sifting through.
Rose tapped the larger pile of coins on the table. “Sixty bits, fourteen spades, and the odd buckle left over.” The smaller copper coins were just as often unused by the majority of Ponyville. But, since Raspberry coming into their lives had put them in a different financial status, the coins were just as important as the more valuable spades and bits. One day, Rose swore they’d have a stirrup, or ten, that they could splurge with—but a thousand bits was a distant dream.
“Thank Celestia I get paid tomorrow.” Post pushed aside the ledger pad and laid his head down amid the ruin of bill paying day. “That’ll be another thirty bits. The wedding was expensive, but I’m still glad we had it. It just—”
“We’ll make it. I’ve started two new plots for oats and barley, and another for daisies. It’s less to go to market for my flowers, but it’s less we have to pay for the grains to make Raspberry’s mash. I can raise my prices slightly, too. Some of my customers will grumble, but not too loudly.”
“That’s good. How are you on the vitamin supplements?”
“I still have a week’s worth, and that’ll be another ten bits, but Raspberry starts on her probiotics next week, too.” Rose sighed and shook her head. “That’s going to be twenty-five bits a week until she’s ready for more solid food.” Rose slid another thirty-five bits into their future expenses pile.
“How is that more expensive than the diaper service?” Post pulled the bill over. “She goes through two a day, and it’s still only five bits every two weeks.”
“I know. But they’ll help her transition into solid foods more easily and more comfortably. Then we won’t have to worry about runny diapers as much.” Rose almost gagged on the mere memory of some of those late night surprises. “She would get them eventually, but with her growing as fast as she is, I’m afraid that one day I’m just going to run dry.”
“Don’t worry, dear. Your body knows how much to make. Trust it.”
“I know, I know.” Rose shook her head. “I just worry. The twenty-five bits isn’t even something to worry about if it means she gets all the nutrition she needs.”
As if she knew her parents were talking about her, Raspberry woke and neighed loudly from the living room. Seconds later, the tip-tap of little hooves on hardwood said she was on her feet.
“Speaking of...” Rose grinned at Post and trotted off before Raspberry could feel trapped in her playpen. “She’s probably hungry.”
“She’s so active lately.” Post said, poking his head around the corner. “Are all foals like this?”
“Well, she is a month old tomorrow. Remember the Cake twins?” Rose paused to drape the feeding blanket over her back, then stepped into the playpen. “Hello, girl,” she cooed, bending down to nuzzle her daughter. “Are you hungry?”
Raspberry returned the nuzzle with enough boisterous energy to overbalance herself into the nest of pillows she’d made. Undeterred, she leapt to her feet again, pranced around the pen, whinnied, then ducked her head under the blanket and started feeding in as much privacy as Rose could give her.
Rose winced when Raspberry used too much tooth and bent her neck around to nuzzle her daughter’s flank. “Careful, Raspberry, mommy’s still tender.”
Raspberry pulled her head back out from under the blanket and looked up at her. Rose’s heart soared as Raspberry worked her mouth, looking thoughtful, then said: “Ma-ma ba-ta.” She smiled, her favorite expression, and ducked back under the blanket.
“Did—” Rose winced again as the teeth plucked at her teat again, then the teeth backed off, and Rose relaxed again. “Did you hear that? She’s getting more talkative, too. That was almost ‘mommy.’“
Post chuckled. “She’s growing up fast. And how much did we spend on that thing?” He tilted his head at the feeding contraption that sat in the corner—a glorified crane meant to make it easier for Rose to feed Raspberry while laying on her side. “She’s so much more stable on her feet now. I feel like if I look away from her for even a moment, she’ll be going off to school.”
“She is growing up fast, but not so fast that we won’t remember how precious she is.” Rose beamed a smile at Raspberry. “That reminds me. I’d like to talk to Pinkie about the foalsitting she’s doing for us. I think we’re at a point where she should be able to join me in the garden in a few more weeks, and I don’t want to keep imposing on her time since she’s been so generous.”
“She does love your calla lilies.”
All around Roseluck, the garden greeted her in the dewy morning with a chorus of magic, and the sound of bees and the rare hummingbird added an audible accompaniment to the silent thrum of life pulsing under her hooves. A second timid, fumbling magical thread joined her sure and steady welcome.
Her daughter’s presence at her side was welcome, and somewhat unexpected that early in the morning—a warm body pressed tightly against her flank in the warm, early fall morning.
“Mommy,” Raspberry said, her magical spark petering out. When Rose didn’t answer immediately, she whinnied loudly and stomped a hoof, then repeated herself: “Mommy.”
Not quite six months old, Raspberry was past the awkward half-word stage and moving into simple sentences. She was also as restless as the changing autumn wind, and her attention was just as ephemeral.
“Mommy.”
Rose kept her concentration on the plants in her garden for a moment longer, hoping that Raspberry would settle back down and help her work.
“Mommy,” Raspberry said again, this time butting her head against Rose’s foreleg.
“Yes, Raspberry?” Rose opened her eyes and let her magic trickle away into the earth again.
“Hungry, mommy.” She bumped her head against Rose’s foreleg again.
Rose glanced at the horizon to the east, where the golden disc of the sun wasn’t quite past the hills yet, but high enough that the tops of the tallest trees in Ponyville were crowned in golden light. Another ten minutes, and the sun would rise to bathe her garden.
“Alright.” Rose stood, looking about surreptitiously. She didn’t wince anymore when Raspberry’s teeth latched on—it was a necessary pain. None of her neighbors as much as glanced her way when she fed her foal in the privacy of her garden.
After the first few times she’d been too exhausted to think about modesty, with a neighing foal headbutting her at every turn, she had stopped bothering with the privacy blanket at all. It was perfectly natural for a mother to feed her foal that way, after all, and Rose did enjoy the quiet time spent with her daughter, especially as autumn began to wind up and cooler winds came down from the north more often.
Six months old, and Raspberry was finally graduating to solid foods. She was becoming less reliant on Roseluck being ready to feed her, and breakfast was one of the few times that she still did—excepting the occasional dinner. After the probiotic regimen had failed in a spectacularly stinky fashion, Rose had gotten more comfortable with feeding time. Raspberry was one of those few foals that had to acclimate naturally to solid and semisolid foods in an age when modern nutrition had most foals on semi-solids by a month, and solids at three months.
“Good morning, girls!” Post said from the porch overlooking the garden. “Are you ready for breakfast?” He laughed when Rose arched her brow at him. “Well, are you ready for breakfast, honey?”
“As soon as she’s done.” Rose turned to nuzzle Raspberry’s flank. “Don’t rush, sweetie.”
But the promise of breakfast had already broken her attention, and she was pulling harder on Rose’s teat while her tail flicked back and forth. She started dancing, torn between the promise of a breakfast made by daddy, and the breakfast she was already enjoying.
Rose bit her lip and swallowed a whimper when Raspberry’s teeth got a little too enthusiastic. “Okay, Raspberry. That’s enough,” she said, nudging her daughter gently.
Raspberry pulled away and looked up at her, uncertainty writ large in her expressive eyes. “Owie?”
“No, sweetie.” Rose lipped her daughters ear gently and spent a moment grooming her curly mane. She would have to comb those precocious locks before she took Raspberry with her to the fair later; those curls just did not want to stay untangled. “I just don’t want you to get full. Remember last night?”
Raspberry looked off into the distance, then shook her mane. Some of the curls were already tangling back up, and she danced away when Rose tried to tug them straight again. “No.”
“After breakfast, we are going to comb your mane, little lady.”
“No!” Raspberry laughed and crouched behind a rose bush, doing her level best to hide from her mother. Up on the porch, Post was struggling not to burst into gales of laughter.
“Where did Raspberry go?” If her wiggling tail hadn’t already given her away, her giggle certainly did. Rose bounded around the bush. “There she is!”
“No!” Raspberry galloped away, only to trip over a rough patch of grass hiding a lump of dirt. She tumbled hock-over-fetlock to land on her flank. Undeterred, she rolled to her feet again and bounded away, giggling while streamers of yellowing grass tumbled away from her coat.
“Mommy’s gonna getcha!” Rose cried, crouching low to the ground and bouncing after her.
“No!”
“Daddy comes in for the save!” Post yelled, trotting over to tackle Roseluck. “Run away, Raspberry! I’ll keep her busy!”
“No!” She about-faced and tackled Post, clinging to his neck with both forehooves. “Daddy make brayfas.”
Rose slipped out from under Post’s foreleg while he was distracted, and wrapped her forelegs around his neck and Raspberry. “Yes! Daddy make breakfast!”
“Alright, alright! I surrender!” He slumped to the ground with a mare and a filly latched onto his neck. “Breakfast it is. But I get to decide what we have for lunch.”
“As long as it’s at the fair, we have a deal.” Rose nipped his ear.
“Are we interrupting anything?” Swift asked from the fenceline. Beside her was Lucky Day, his left ear in a semi-permanent droop and his smile sagged, but he looked happier and healthier than he had even last week. “I picked up Lucky from the home, and thought we’d surprise you with—”
“Grammy!” Raspberry wiggled free of Roseluck’s grasp and galloped to her. “Grammy here!” She crashed into Swift’s legs, then pranced around her. Then she saw Lucky and calmed herself—somewhat. She only wrapped her legs around his foreleg and butted her head against his chest. “Grampy!”
“Raspberry!” He hugged her close with his free leg and bent to nuzzle her cheek.
“Grampy walk better?” Raspberry sat down, her forelegs still around Lucky’s leg, and looked up at him. “Grampy go to ‘spital? Get better.”
“Yes, Raspberry. I went to the hospital and they made me feel better.” He stroked her back again. “How are you?”
“Good. Mommy brayfas, daddy fair. Hayvast festal?” Raspberry twisted her head to look at Roseluck. “Mommy festal, soon brayfast?”
“Yes, Raspberry. We’re going to the festival as soon as we have breakfast,” Rose said after disentangling herself from Post. “Dad, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better,” she added, quirking an eyebrow at him, then glancing at Raspberry. “I hope we can talk later?”
“Psh.” Lucky nudged Raspberry gently away and tapped his chest. “I’m doing fine. Dr. Axon has been working with me every week. I barely have a lisp anymore.”
“Grampy.” Raspberry bit her lip and looked back at Rose. “Mommy, Aon doc mind?” she asked. “Grampy better now?”
“He is, sweetie. I just worry about him. Now come on, you three. Post has promised us his famous oat-saddled pancakes!”
“I did?” Post stood up and stuck his tongue out at Rose.
“Pancake!”
He laughed. “I guess I did.”
With breakfast settled in her belly and the taste of honey-maple syrup still fresh on her tongue, Roseluck finished cleaning off Raspberry’s face. “You are one messy little lady,” she murmured. It seemed that whenever it was time for pancakes—or any meal that wasn’t milk—any of it that got in her mouth was accidental, at best.
“No messy,” Raspberry said, squirming away. “Festval now?”
“We’re just about ready,” Post called from the living room. “Swift’s helping your father get the carry-saddle settled.”
“What?” Rose trotted down the hall to find Post and Swift getting the saddle strapped around him. “Dad, you—”
Raspberry followed her, ears perked and a wiggle in her rump. “Grampy carry me?”
“Roseluck, I know you worry, but please don’t. You are so much like your mother, sometimes.”
“Dad...”
Lucky shook his head. “Please let me enjoy my granddaughter as much as I can.” He gave her a brief smile. “Besides, she barely weighs anything. And Dr. Axon did say that it would be good for me to get a little exercise.”
Rose glanced at Swift, who nodded. “Alright, dad. Just please let us know if you need to let her down. She gets squirmy—”
“No squirmy!” Raspberry butted Rose’s shoulder and trotted over to Lucky. “Grampy carry me.” It was a statement, and her tail curling partway around Lucky’s foreleg said she wasn’t going to quietly have her wants put aside.
“I’ll stay with him, Rose. I promise.” Swift nuzzled Lucky’s shoulder, then pulled on the saddle-straps to make it tight. “Your father and I have gotten to know each other rather well over the last few months.”
“We have,” he said, turning to nuzzle Swift in return. “Your mother-in-law is a remarkable mare.”
“Thank you, Swift. I wish I could be there more often for you, dad, but—” Rose shook her head. “I want to be there more for you.”
“Rose, stop.” Lucky nuzzled Raspberry’s ears. “You are doing everything you need to do.”
“He’s right, Rose,” Post said quietly, sidling up next to her. “You look after Raspberry, tend your garden, sell your flowers, and still find the time to be with your father when he needs you.” He smiled and nipped her cheek.
“It’s no more than you do, Post. You cook, and clean, take care of Raspberry when I’m wiped out—”
Swift trotted forward and swept a wing up to separate them. “You two can discuss who does more later. We’ll miss the festival if you keep going on.” She stepped closer and nipped Post’s, then Roseluck’s cheek. “Don’t fight in front of her,” she whispered. “Even if it’s friendly, she’s too young to understand that you’re playing.”
Rose shook her head, shame coiling around her throat. “I’m sorry, Post.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He kissed her cheek.
“Good.” Swift smiled at them both and kissed their cheeks. “You make good parents, but you’ve still got so much to learn.” She turned around, smiling brightly. “Tell you what, Raspberry, if you’re a good girl, and mommy allows it, I’ll take you flying.”
Raspberry’s eyes went wide with wonder. “Grampy, grammy both carry me? Fly, too?”
“Swift...” Rose covered her muzzle with a hoof. If I say no, I’m the bad mare. But that look on Raspberry’s face, joyous wonder made manifest... I trust her. I know, know, she would let nothing happen to Raspberry. But worry remained, and fears haunted the back of her mind, staying just vivid enough to terrify her, but too vague to put a hoof to what they were. She chewed her lip, then shook her head. “If you let me do the buckles, then I will.” Swift beamed a smile back at her, “But not high!” Rose added.
“Mommy!” Raspberry’s rump wiggled, and she dashed forward, dodging around Swift. Rose ducked to meet her, and stifled a grunt when she crashed into Rose’s neck and threw both forelegs around her. “Mommy best mommy.” Raspberry turned her head to look at Swift, “Fly, grammy soon?”
“At the fair, my little Raspberry.”
The memory of her living room blew away in a rustling breeze, leaving her staring at a window overlooking her fence and the little side-garden where she grew a few smaller plants for her family. Arched trestles filled with tomato vines stood above the edge of the sill, the leaves grey, and only a few small grey tomatoes clinging to them; but they were healthy looking, for all their lack of color.
“Goldie must be helping,” Rose murmured as she looked down into the garden. There was a whole patch of carrots growing along the outside edge, leafy sprouts sticking above the dirt, more lively than the tomatoes. “She has to be.” Unless my absence bent Post to try harder—or discover some hidden talent he hadn’t been aware of.
“You’re talking more. You didn’t, at first.” Mirror’s voice behind her broke the silent veil over the world. “It’s like, before, I was following around a mime. Does that make sense?” She cocked her head, and shrugged. “Now, it’s like you’re more in tune with the memories. You even have almost all of your color back.”
Rose pulled her mane forward to look at the still dimly colored lock of hair. Is it brighter? She turned to look at her tail and cutie mark. A little, maybe. She turned back around. “I’m sorry. Does—” Rose bit her lip and looked at Mirror. “Does it hurt, hearing me?”
Mirror shook her head. “It makes me wish I could hear all of it. I remember Pinkie throwing so many birthday parties and monthiversaries.” Mirror closed her eyes and reached a hoof up to her muzzle, as though clasping a party horn. “It’s so real in my memories. I—she—was so happy, so—” Tears trickled from her closed eyes. “I wish—” she paused and leaned forward, lips pursed, and blew out an imaginary candle. “I wish I could throw her a party.” Mirror opened her eyes, looked around at the still, silent world, and choked back a sob.
“I wish...” What can I say? Is there anything? Rose shook her head and took a step closer to Mirror while her mind churned with ideas and thoughts and memories all rushing about to be back in their proper place. She stood still as the memories of the fair tumbled about, and closed her eyes as they snapped into place around that beautiful morning moment with her family, whole despite the loss.
“I started to see her, Swift, as a mother, too. Not replacing my mother, but joining her.” Rose choked on a happy laugh, and tears pattered to the ground at her hooves. “My family.” She brushed aside some of the tears in her eyes. “It’s funny how things look in hindsight, isn’t it? I didn’t even realize it then. I don’t know if I did, but I do now.”
“She sounds like a very special mare.”
“She is.” Memories continued to swarm in her mind, a cacophony of times, places, scents and sights all fading into the background of daily life. The brightest ones were memories of the fair, dimmed in comparison to the realization that Swift was much more than just a mother-in-law, but a mother to her, and a grandmother, too
Raspberry had flown on Swift’s back, strapped in so securely that it would have taken the act of an alicorn to take her out of the saddle. Her laughter and her unfulfilled shouts to go higher rang out over the fair. In the end, that she never got to go higher than just above the tent’s banners didn’t matter. When she was finally on the ground and unstrapped, she was so excited and happy that she wore herself out in less than half an hour.
“She was so happy.” Rose saw her father carrying Raspberry about, and the smile on his face, and hers, made all the worry worth it. “Dad was so happy, I don’t think he stopped smiling for a week.” She opened her eyes again to see Mirror staring at a rose by her feet.
“Go back to them, Rose. They need you in their lives again.”
“If you need to go, before I... relive this next memory—”
“I’m going to stay. I need to see this through, Rose. I need... closure.” Mirror smiled, a sad, weak thing that faded quickly. “I want to know that you go back, and that you live a happy life.”
“What about yourself?” Rose waited, watching her still friend looking down at the rose between them. When Mirror didn’t respond for half a dozen breaths, Rose took a small step forward and drew Mirror into a loose hug.
Mirror shook her head, but didn’t resist, and settled her ear against Rose’s neck. “I’m still thinking. You did give me a lot to think about.” She smiled, more strongly. “Thank you.” Mirror sniffed, returning the hug briefly, and pulled away. “Don’t waste another minute. Get back to them.”
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Superb as always. In the absence of anything more specific coming to mind (though there is a lot of good stuff I could probably ramble on about all day), I admire your take on the currency system in Equestria. Good show-congruent names for the different denominations.
5082719 I would also like to comment on the monetary system of Equestria. The idea of the value of various monies based on the parts of harnesses is rather clever and makes since. Especially since the only canon money we know if is bits.
As for the most recent chapter, I have come to find that even if I read another fiction with Roseluck or Post Haste, it will be hard for me to depart from the imagery I have of them after reading this story. I had thought to use Roseluck in another story of mine, but I feel that I couldn't do her justice as you have, NT.
I am hoping for a happy ending, but we all know in stories that once the protagonist reaches the high point in their stories, there is only one way for them to go from there.
Great chapter once again!
5082754
Yes, they do. But all stories do this. It's the falling action of the story. Things returning to normal, the villain or problem overcome. For some, this is a welcome change. The excitement is done, the danger gone, they can live the life that circumstances denied them.
For others, the journey leaves scars that will last a lifetime. They may have done what they wanted, but at what cost? Is there a normal life to return to?
5082719
As for the currency, that was a bit of on the spot inspiration. I don't see them as gold Silver and copper, but brass the right amount of gold, Silver or copper plating. Magically bonded to make them scuff resistant. Precious metals would just be too expensive, and gold can be toxic. So the magic prevents the plating from scraping off. Alternatively, they are brass, tin, and bronze. Cheaper metals that nonetheless look at least superficially like the more valuable metals they replaced.
Colloquially, they're still called gold or silver or copper because of tradition.
Or something along those lines. It made sense and continues to make sense to me to have smaller denominations called after bits and pieces of tack.
5083008
That is often the questions that face anyone who witnesses or survives through life changing events. Even if they return to their everyday lives, and nothing really has changed on the surface, they are not the same person(pony) as they once were because the experience has changed them and likely their perceptions. There is a huge philosophical debate on the subject, but it is hard to argue that experience is a defining characteristic of who and what we are. We can have precognitions on various things, but experience is what further shapes our views on life.
Celestia knows that my perception of MLP changed dramatically from before I was a fan to now, and that is because I experienced it. In a way, this fits what you have said.
...I can really go off on tangents can't I?
5083585
That can be said of any experience. We are not the same people/ponies that we were yesterday. Nor are our preconceptions of the future ever really going to be anything other than fantasy. The best way to deal with that is to accept that life may not go back to normal.
Or, they're clinging to what used to be normal, ignoring everything normal going on around them. I haven't forgotten this. I haven't forgotten what it feels like to have a 'normal' that I wanted to go back to, without realizing for a long time that putting things back the way they were wasn't growth. Accepting that things have changed, and that what I learned from what I went through is what's valuable, not the events themselves - though they can have meaning on their own merit. Memories of others, especially.
I'm not gonna say anymore to avoid spoiling what happens to Rose and Mirror in the next two chapters, both within and outside memory.
This has been a transformative journey for both of them. What will they do with their experience? How will they grow? Will they grow?
5082754
You have no idea how good this feels. To know that I did well enough in portraying these characters that they stick with my readers that strongly. I've been trying to think of something else to say, but I can't really. It just... it feels good.
Thank you for your kind words, Zodiacspear. It's heartening.
5083732
I have to echo what Zodiac said. I've written Roseluck before, and even my view of her as a character has been drastically changed by this story - and in the best possible ways too.
I'm probably in the minority here when I say that I still haven't unraveled exactly "where" Rose is or how Mirror/Pinkie factors in, but I do know that you're crafting a true work of art here.
Can't wait for more!
5085290
To the first half:
that makes me feel amazing, that something I wrote has that much of an impact. Ghost of a Rose has been the result of... well, my first favorite on this was way back in April. So, that's when it started, but then Mother of the Moon got inspired and created, along with its whole universe, and the actual writing portion of Ghost has taken 3 months now. So... I guess I'm trying to say that it feels good to have that effort get this kind of response from my readers.
To the second half: I won't spoil anything, but I'm not sure if things will become any less clouded until the epilogue, but I'm glad some of the mystery remains for you. But if you have any questions once the story is done, I am planning a sort of retrospective blog series about the whole story, including a Q&A blog post pair to start it off, to see what folks want to know about in regards to this story, the crafting of it, the characters in it, and the world (both within and outside of the memories.)
I like stories like these that use other characters like Roseluck. (cool name) That being said I just happened to past by this and decided to give it a read and the first chapter has got me hooked. You're writing is awesome and story telling of the characters is also amazing.
You dear author are a awesome writer.
5102371
Glad to hear it! This story has grown on me as I've written it, and I'm very, very pleased with the feedback and the enjoyment others are getting from it. I hope the future chapters continue to be just as enjoyable.
5102630 I wish you the best of luck with this fic. It's really good.
Everything's so happy, here. *Sad sigh* I know it's gonna come apart, soon. Dammit. :(
Wonderful emotions, here. Absolutely brilliant. I wanna hug everyone, especially Mirror.
5110901
Not everypony gets a happy ending in every story. Even those who wish for it the most, or who we think deserve a happy ending, may not get one in the end. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. There will be a sequel to this, tying up one of the arcs in this story that would be more appropriately handled in its own story.