Secrets of the Everfree

by PaisleyPerson

Chapter 37: What's in a Name

Chapter 37
What’s in a Name

“Squirt? Teensie? Mini? How about Junior?”

“Pinkie,” I groaned. “I’m not ready to be thinking about baby names yet. And why do you keep suggesting names that mean small?”

“Because babies are small, silly!” my enthusiastic friend chirped.

I was supposed to be running errands this morning, but Pinkie had met up with me just as I’d entered town. I was now entering my fourth month of pregnancy, and the baby bump was beginning to show. The visible proof that I was with child had excited my friends, as did the major changes we’d recently made to our lives. I knew they were just trying to be helpful and help us adjust, but it was hard to find time to myself anymore. Everyone wanted to help us out or just check on the baby and I. Pinkie had become especially clingy since she didn’t have many parties to plan this time of year, and the Cakes were on vacation. Rarity was ecstatic that it was almost time for us to find out whether we were having a girl or boy, and brought up the subject of names again. In fact, I was having the ultrasound later in the afternoon. Now it was all Pinkie could think about.

“Pinkie, even when we do start thinking about baby names, I don’t want my baby to have a name like ‘Teensie.’ You might as well paint a big red bull’s-eye on them. No, I want my baby to have a bully-proof name.”

“Then what about Bruiser? Tough Guy? That’s sure to scare bullies off!” I rolled my eyes and hurried into the next shop, hoping to escape her. I should have known better- it was Pinkie, after all. She somehow managed to arrive before me, and trotted in reverse to face me while giving suggestions. “Strike? Impact?”

“I don’t want my child to sound like a thug, either. They’ll never make friends! And would you turn around before you bump into somepony?”

“Then what kind of a name do you want?” Pinkie paused to obey my request, but then fell back into step with me.

“I don’t know,” I sighed again, but this time it wasn’t out of annoyance. I just truly didn’t know how to answer her. But then I blushed. “Honestly, I am hoping for a little artist,” I admitted.

“Ooh, an artsy name! Then how about Ink Well? Sketch Pad? Marker? Pencil Scratch? Gel Pen?” I groaned in irritation. “Pastel?”

“Pinkie, I-” Pastel, huh? That wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was growing on me. I refrained the smile from creeping onto my face for fear of encouraging my pink friend. “I told you, I’m not ready to be thinking about names yet.”

“Suit yourself,” Pinkie shrugged, not discouraged in the least. She finally trotted over to the next aisle, leaving me to myself. I sagged in relief, and resumed shopping. I quickly realized I’d ducked into the wrong store when I’d attempted to escape her pestering, so I headed back out for the general store.

---

“So? What is it?” My friends all jumped up as Torch and I reentered the hospital’s waiting room from the ultrasound.

“They can’t say,” Torch disappointedly announced.

“Aww,” they all groaned.

“Why ever not?” Rarity pouted. She’d been looking forward to this for a while; she needed to know whether to make pink or blue baby clothes.

“The baby’s turned around the wrong way,” I answered.

“But Doctor Horse is a unicorn. Why can’t he just perform a magical scan?” Twilight pressed.

“He says that at this stage, it could be harmful to expose the embryo to direct magical contact,” Torch spoke.

“I’ve never heard such a thing!” Rarity unhappily huffed.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Twilight agreed. “I’ve never read that in any of my books.”

“The doctor said it’s because there are so few purebreds left, most ponies already have a little unicorn blood in them from somewhere in their lineage. Because unicorns harness magic, they’re far more resilient to them than other types. That unicorn gene is tucked away somewhere in other ponies’ DNA, which protects them from harmful residue left by magical scans. But thestrals have been isolated for so long that we’re all purebreds and don’t have that gene, which means the baby isn’t protected.”

“I’ve been banned from direct magical contact,” I informed them, “which means no levitational holds, no check-up scans, and absolutely no transformation spells.” I tried to chuckle at the incident, but my friends looked alarmed.

“But ya already went through a transformin’ spell,” Applejack pointed out.

“And I’ve lost count of how many levitational holds I’ve put you through,” Twilight wailed.

“Me too,” Rarity contributed. “Oh, you poor dear!”

“The Doc said not to worry about it,” Torch assured. “There’s no way to tell what the effects on the baby are. It’s quite possible it had no effect. He just wants to err on the side of caution.”

“But what if it did affect the baby?”

“Then we’ll deal with it then,” I consolingly wrapped wing around miserable Twilight. She was sick with grief, the possibility that her magic may have harmed the baby weighing heavily on her.

“None of us knew. It’s not your fault,” Torchwood added.

“The baby’s gonna be okay, isn’t it?” Blaze worriedly turned to us. Spike put a comforting claw on his friend’s shoulder.

“Sure it will,” Spike assured. “You’ll see.”

“We’re not even sure if anything’s wrong,” I agreed. “Everything might be fine and we’re all worrying about nothing.”

“We can’t have that. Stress is surely harmful to the baby!” Rarity declared.

“Even though we didn’t find out if it’s a girl or boy, are you guys still up for ice cream?” Rainbow suggested.

“I do have a slight craving for something chocolate-y,” I eagerly nodded.

“Yipee!” Pinkie cheered.

“Ya don’t gotta ask me twice,” Applejack agreed.

“Certainly,” Rarity nodded.

“Okay,” Fluttershy quietly whispered.

“I guess ice cream would make me feel a little better,” Twilight consented.

“Alright!” Spike cheered.

“Cookie dough flavored, with ruby sprinkles,” Blaze licked his lips.

“Don’t forget the whipped cream,” Spike reminded. I waited for the rest of them to file out, and started to follow when I realized Torch hadn’t made a move to follow us.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I should really go back to work,” he shook his head. Torch had gotten the position at the mail office after all, and had been tirelessly working there for just over a month.

“I thought your boss was going to let you take the rest of the day off,” I said.

“If somepony else has to work overtime to deliver what I didn’t get around to, it comes out of my pay. I’m going to go see if I can finish my rounds before they find somepony else to fill in.”

“You need a break,” I protested. “You’re going to work yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine.”

“At least stay for ice cream. Then I’ll help you make up for lost time afterwards.”

“You have to go to school in an hour,” he pointed out. I had also accepted the teaching position, and was due to go in and teach Cheerilee’s class soon.

“Well, after that, then. Or we could ask Rainbow to lend a hoof. The skies are already clear; I don’t think she’ll be very busy.”

“That’s alright, this is my responsibility, not her’s,” he protested. I rolled my eyes. Stallions.

“That’s just like a stallion. Too proud to ask for help when you need it. Hey, Rainbow!” I galloped ahead after our pegasus friend.

“Wait!” Torch opposed. It was too late.

“What’s up?” Rainbow asked.

“Are you doing anything later today?”

“No. Why?”

“Do you think you could help Torch out with his delivery rounds? He’s behind because he took time off for this, but if we could get another set of hooves helping out, he’ll be able to stay for ice cream.”

“Sure! No prob!” Dash confidently folded her arms and closed her eyes, easily hovering. Torch flattened his ears and crossly glared at me. I actually burst out laughing. I found his annoyed expression more comical than threatening.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I can handle it myself,” Torch insisted through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind,” Rainbow assured.

“I could lend a hoof too,” Twilight offered.

“Me three!” Pinkie declared.

“NO! One is more than enough,” Torch groaned. I giggled. He’d been at work all the time I’d received such treatment. Now he was finally getting a taste of what I’d been through.

“Great. So it’s settled. We all go out to ice cream now, then Rainbow can help you with your rounds.” I triumphantly sauntered off for Sugar Cube Corner. The others good-naturedly followed my lead. Torch grouchily tromped along at the back.

“It’s for the best, darling. Besides, we were going to brainstorm names, remember? You must be present for that! You are the father, after all,” Rarity fell back to sidle up to him.

“But we don’t know if it’s going to be a boy or girl.”

“No matter,” she carelessly tossed her mane. “We’ll just have to come up with names that could go either way.”

“I brought enough paper for two lists,” Twilight winked. “Just in case.” Torch no longer had any excuse not to attend, so he sighed in defeat, and trudged along with us.

We quickly made our way to Sugar Cube Corner, where the Cakes were expecting us.

“So?” Carrot eagerly prompted.

“What did the doctor say?” Cup Cake pushed.

“Inconclusive results,” I responded, moving ahead with our party to seat ourselves.

“Inconclusive?” baffled Carrot Cake echoed.

“The baby was turned the wrong way,” Torch explained.

“And he was afraid a magical scan might hurt it.”

“What a shame!” Cup Cake sympathized. “I know you must’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Maybe something sweet will make you feel better,” Carrot suggested. “What can I get you?” Everypony already had an idea of what they wanted, so we quickly put an order in and got down to business.

“Alright, everypony. We don’t know the baby’s gender, which makes things a little harder for us,” Twilight rallied our group. “But it also leaves options wide open. Any suggestions?”

“Pinkie made a suggestion this morning,” I recalled. “Pastel.”

“Yay!” the mare cheered, elated that I’d taken one of her ideas. Twilight wasted no time in writing it down.

“An artist’s name?” Torch raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, what if the baby’s talent has nothing to do with art?”

“What if it does?”

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hooves for a truce. “What if it’s a fire dancer?”

“How about Singe?” Blaze put in, digging into his ice cream.

“That sounds like a dragon’s name,” Rainbow wrinkled her nose, but Torch readily agreed to the suggestion.

“What if it isn’t a fire dancer after all?” I challenged. If he was going to give me a hard time about my choice, I’d throw it right back at him.

“All thestrals have some fire dancing ability,” he justified.

“Talents aside,” Twilight interrupted us, obviously trying to prevent a fight, “why don’t we try to come up with something a little more generic? After all, there’s no way to predict the baby’s talent. No use getting into a fight over it.”

“I agree,” Torch nodded. I rolled my eyes, but didn’t argue and leaned back in the chair.

“What about somethin’ that describes your family?” Applejack suggested. “All us Apples have farm names. It’s tradition.”

“I’ve got it! Stormwood!” Rainbow leapt up from her chair.

“Stormwood?”

“Yeah. ‘Cuz Acrylic’s from the Storm family, and Torchwood is a Wood. Stormwood!”

“It’s perfect!” Torch declared.

“It’s a lovely name,” Fluttershy put in.

“What do you think, Acrylic?”

“I suppose,” I unenthusiastically answered. “It still sounds a little magical, though.”

“We aren’t going by talents anymore, remember?” Twilight impatiently corrected.

“I know,” I sighed. “But everypony I know has a name that fits their talent. How are we supposed to know how to name our baby?”

“You won’t,” Twilight repeated. “Like Applejack said, most ponies give their children a family name.”

“My parents didn’t, but they were spot on with my talent,” I huffed. “And what about your brother? Your parents were both talented with magic, as are you. But then they decided to name your brother Shining Armor, and he’s captain of the royal guard! What happened there?”

“It was a coincidence,” the exasperated alicorn insisted.

“I don’t know. What if a name somehow influences a pony’s talent.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but if I’m going to have a kid, I want to do it right.” I leaned back and folded my arms.

“Your child’s name doesn’t have to match their talent for you to be a good parent,” Rarity assured.

“Yeah, does it really matter?” Rainbow shrugged.

“It does to me.” An awkward silence fell over the table. My eyes finally fell on the clock across from me. “I’ve got to go to work.” I pushed away from the table.

“It’s only 1:10,” Rarity pointed out. “You aren’t due at the school until 2:00.”

“I need to run a quick errand.”

“But you didn’t finish your ice cream,” Pinkie reminded.

“Not hungry.”

I knew the baby’s name was a petty thing to argue over, so I went to the one pony I knew would offer advice without ridicule: my mother. This time of day usually found her working by the river behind Fluttershy’s cottage, where there was an ample supply of raw clay for her to work with. That was the first place I headed, but unfortunately, it was also the opposite direction I needed to get to the school, so I’d have to cut my visit very short. Luckily, I found her by the riverside as usual, surrounded by trays upon trays of newly formed flower pots.

“Are you starting a garden?” I commented upon touching down. Mom spun, a bit surprised to find herself with company, but warmly smiled in greeting.

“I managed to work out a contract with one of the local flower shops,” she explained. “Apparently, Wild Flower put in a good word for me.”

“Congratulations!” I knew Mom had regularly been selling to my sister, but the local job would help tide them over until their home in the Whitetail Woods Development was ready.

“Thank you,” she turned back to her work. “But I don’t think you came out all this way to help me with the pottery just before your class.”

“No,” I agreed. “I just had a question.”

“I have many answers.” I paused, trying to put it into words.

“How did you pick my name?”

“I’m sorry?” she cast me a strange look through a mouthful of pottery.

“Why did you decide to call me Acrylic? Did you just want an artist and hoped for the best?”

“Well...” Mom spat out the pottery onto a wooden tray, and proceeded to adjust them to her liking. “It’s true that I wanted a son or daughter to follow in my hoof steps, but that didn’t really influence your name. Your father and I were quite frankly at a loss as to what to name you. It just so happened that at the time, I was beginning to experiment with acrylics. I used them to make you a mobile.”

“I remember that,” I nodded. “With the thestrals flying in a circle.”

“That’s the one. You liked it so much, the name just sort of stuck.”

“Oh.” I was a little disappointed by the unceremonious end to that story. “What about Wild Flower?”

“We named her after something your father said,” she chuckled. “He kept insisting she’d be as pretty as a wild flower.”

“I see,” I sighed.

“You’re disappointed?”

“I just thought maybe it would help me figure out what to name my baby.”

“I see,” she thoughtfully nodded.

“I just don’t know what to do. I really want an artist’s name, but what if Torch is right and the baby turns out to be a fire dancer? What kind of name would that be?”

“Oh, honey,” Mom laughed. “You’ll never get anywhere if you try to name your child after their talent. They haven’t found it yet!”

“But everypony has a name that fits their talent!”

“Perhaps they were drawn to that talent because of their name, or perhaps it is coincidence. Either way, you mustn’t get hung up on trying to match a name to a talent that doesn’t exist. Choose something that has meaning to you.”

“What do you mean?” I cocked my head.

“We named you after your mobile,” she explained, “but that held meaning. It was special to us. Your father nicknamed your sister ‘Wild Flower’ in a casual side comment before we were even thinking about names. But it was a special sentiment, so it stuck. What’s something special between you and Torchwood?”

“Well...” I thought. “He did like the name Stormwood because it combined both our family names.”

“There, you see? That’s something special,” Mom smiled.

“I guess you’re right. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, dear,” she drew me into a close hug.

“Now I’ve got to get to class!” I quickly broke away and rushed for the school. I was already running late.

---

“You’re back late,” I commented. Torchwood quietly walked into the bedroom.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he said, now taking less care with his hoofsteps now that he knew he wasn’t going to wake me.

“I stayed up for you.” I put my book down on the side table, and turned over to greet him. “Didn’t Rainbow help out with the deliveries?”

“She did, and we were finished before I knew what was happening,” he confirmed. “But I was held up talking to Graphite Sketch.”

“For eight hours?” I raised an eyebrow.

“More like six,” he shaved a couple off. “We had a rather impromptu guy’s-day-out.”

“Yeah? How’d that go?” I would have thought Graphite to be too sophisticated for that sort of nonsense.

“I was just delivering his packages when I happened to mention that you were pregnant. Apparently this was news to him, and he insisted on a celebratory outing. Let me tell you, when that stallion has his mind set on something, there’s no talking him out of it.”

“Tell me about it.” Torchwood had finished climbing into the bed, so I reached over for the light. “So did you have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes, I did.”

“That’s good.” We were silent for a moment longer. “Torch?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking about this whole name business. You remember that errand I ran before going to the school? Well, I went to go talk to my mom about the matter. And she helped me see that it really doesn’t matter. I don’t care anymore. I decided that Stormwood is growing on me after all.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” my husband chuckled. “Blaze came up to me with a new suggestion: Charcoal.”

“Charcoal?”

“I know it still sounds like a fire dancer’s name; he probably got it from the dragon craters,” Torch interrupted before I could object. “But it’s also an artist’s medium, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I quietly thought it over.

“And it could suit a girl or a boy. This way everyone’s happy.”

“Charcoal,” I repeated. “Charcoal Stormwood.”

“Charcoal Stormwood,” Torch echoed. He happily hummed as he shut his eyes. “I like it.”

---

Journal Entry #3

xx/xx/xx

The mere thought of having a baby can be both exhilarating and terrifying. After all, this is a new life, whose fate lies within our hooves! How we raise our child could affect who s/he becomes, and quite possibly even their destiny! That puts a lot of pressure on a parent. Torchwood and I both want the best for our baby, and maybe that desire to do well translated into a yearning for the baby to take after ourselves. What I thought to be a simple task of naming the child quickly escalated into a battle to decide their fate before s/he’s even been born! But there’s no point in trying to lay out a path for somepony else- that’s a journey for them to take themselves. And while having a baby is exciting, it’s a stupid and petty thing to fight over their nam. A name is just a name, and instead of reflecting their talent or personality, it should mean something special.

Best of luck, Charcoal Stormwood.

-Acrylic

Comments

[Nightmare Loopy]

Oh wow... that name.... IS SO BUCKING PERFECT!!

[HeartfireFirebrand]

6122447
Agreed