• Published 20th Dec 2014
  • 19,544 Views, 1,496 Comments

Tears of a Foal - Rocinante



In the winter snow, a lost foal cries.

  • ...
42
 1,496
 19,544

Home

- - - ch 16 - day 5 pt 3 - - -

Celestia rubbed the spot between her eyes again. Twilight’s thank-you for letting her run court had been to organise her office. Ledgers replaced loose stacks. Organizers held folders, letterheads, and calendars. Three file cabinets had been brought in, and everything filed by standard archival protocol.

She had no idea where anything was.

Court had gotten her out of the office for a few hours, but now she had to conquer her new work space before she went to her chambers. Thankfully, Dewey, the court archivist, hadn’t laughed when she asked her for help.

Picking up a stack of paper from her new in-basket, Celestia plucked out the particular bundle she was after, letting the rest land on the overly clean desk. She ignored Dewey’s magic straightening the pile back into the basket as she scanned the document. Her frown deepened with each page. In spite of the news it carried, she was disappointed at how thin it was. She shrugged. There was nothing she could do. It had only been a few days. It would take weeks before a comprehensive picture began to emerge.

Laying that folder down, where her now-pile used to be, Celestia picked up the report she had been looking at before court. “I need yesterday’s guard summary. And where am I supposed to file last night’s?” Celestia asked, waving her copy of the night guard’s report. The place she used to cram them was now full of spare stationary.

Dewey took the offending folder, and opened one of the new file drawers. “All daily reports go here. They’re alphabetical after that.” Dewey stuck the night report into its folder, and just as quickly pulled the previous day’s report from another file in the drawer. “Newest in back. Anything older than three months can be boxed and sent to the archive.”

Taking the report in her magic, Celestia made a mental note of the drawer. Returning her attention to her desk, she laid the report down to study it. There were no answers here, either.

If Clover had fallen through the cracks, others had, too. However he had gotten into the city was a blessing; one that other foals hadn’t gotten. Missing foal reports were now to be reported to the guard immediately—unresolved cases reported directly to the Crown after two days. Provisions to check on the foals after the loss of a parent were also going into effect, but logistics for that would take time.

Till then, she had every province sending her every known unsolved missing foal report for the last ten years. Only Ponyville and Baltimare had managed to respond so far, but she knew more would be in soon, and she’d have almost all of them within a couple of weeks. Somewhere in there, she hoped to find Clover’s past.

Ponyville’s one, and only, case looked promising. A colt about the right age, who had vanished roughly three years ago. No surviving parents, no herd mothers at all; only grandparents, that had since passed. Sadly, Celestia doubted this was Clover’s former life. Notes about the foal having been last seen near the Everfree promised a grim fate for that little one. Still, she would ask Twilight to look into it, though she knew she already was; her old student would never leave a mystery like that unexplored.

Celestia laughed, but it was a bitter sound. The little filly that used to run around her legs, was now one of the few ponies she could explicitly trust to do the right thing without prompting. Not merely doing what was expected, but striving to make the world around her a better one.

Flipping through the Baltimare report, Celestia fought to keep her hackles down. Twenty-three unresolved cases over ten years. Twenty-three of her ponies missing. Once upon a time, allowing a foal to simply wander off would have been unheard of, but the world had changed on her when she wasn’t looking.

Pulling out a scroll, Celestia penned the mayor a letter. She would have a full dossier on every foal on her desk by the end of next week. She’d also be sending a guard, and an archivist to the city.

Putting that in the ‘I’ll-need-that-later’ spot on her desk, Celestia searched the in-basket again. Ship Shape’s docking log was only a single page, and hid well among the pack of multi-paged reports, but she found it on her second pass. It was a short manifest, listing all the ships from foreign ports that had docked in Canterlot in the past few weeks. One from the eastern continent, a dozen for the griffon lands, two from Minoa, and a few more from both the zebras and Saddle Arabians.

One of the airships claiming to be from Minoa didn’t look right to her. The name was off, and the cargo wasn’t the normal kind of goods; there were far too many arcane materials. The magic of that land was one of secrets and esoterics. Fine herbs and rare minerals would occasionally make their way out of their borders, but never anything of volume or complexity. She read the manifest closer, hunting for anything that seemed dangerous, but found nothing that alarmed her.

Looking up, Celestia let her mind wander back to Clover. Her two best theories about Clover danced through her mind. Had he been on that ship, as either a captive or stowaway? As cruel as it sounded, Celestia hoped for the truth to be that he had gone mustang. It made his weakness harder to explain, but not impossible. The idea that any of her ponies had fallen victim to a slave’s collar stirred an anger that she hoped to never show again.

“Dewey, I need you to recommend ten of your best researchers to me. I will be sending them abroad, so make sure they are fine with long trips. Both to Equestrian cities, and possibly to other nations as well.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Dewey took a notepad from her bags, and scribbled something down. “I’ll have a list for you by tomorrow.”

“It can wait through the weekend. Have it to me by the end of court on Monday.” Celestia sat the report down. She needed to clear her head, but first, she had to send a letter to Shining Armor, asking him for guards as she had Dewey for archivists. She’d match them into teams later.

“Now…” she said, sealing the scrolls, and putting them in the out-box. “For the rest of the day, I want you to show me how these ledgers and files are organised. It’s past time I learned this.”

- - -

Celestia was pleased with herself. She had managed to learn the modern filing system, and only leave an hour late. At least it was the weekend. Not that she was ever truly off work, but she had two days without court or meetings. Luna holding night court on the weekend had let her have some semblance of personal time, but it also meant seeing less of her sister for those two nights.

Celestia shook her head. She really didn’t spend enough time with Luna. If she had a hard time spending time with her sister, how was she going to give Clover the attention he needed? Changes would have to come to her schedule faster than she had planned. She would have to stop sheltering Twilight, and give her the responsibilities she craved. Twilight’s castle was due for a court of its own. Likewise, she was going to have to take Luna’s advice about her day court.

Luna was constantly telling her that five a week was too many, and that ponies were asking her to make decisions they should be making themselves. Luna was right, of course. She had known that even before her sister was returned to her.

When had her court dissolved into hearing about trivial disputes and meaningless petitions? Not that she minded helping her little ponies. She lived to guide them to their greatest happiness, but perhaps the time had come for them to again stand on their own a little more. They had defeated the windigos without her—could they rise above something like that now? Had she weakened them under her care?

Spreading her wings, Celestia took to the air. She could see the light of her balcony as soon as she was above the roofline, but didn’t fly towards it. As much as she wanted to get home, she really needed to get a little exercise in. Ten minutes of flying would make her a more relaxed pony when she got there.

The night air was cold, and falling snow swirled in the air on its way to the ground. Flapping as hard as she could, Celestia streaked into the sky, leaving the golden lights of Canterlot below her. She smiled as she pierced a snow-filled cloud. Above it, she let her momentum bleed off. The sky was crystal clear up here, the stars shined like diamonds, and the round, empty moon tried its best to warm her. A few weather pegasi were up here with her, but none of them paid her any attention. This wasn’t the first time she’d needed to blow off some steam, and the night shift took great pride in pretending not to see her. Skimming the cloud tops, Celestia let her mind go blank and her body go where it liked.

Time lost a little of its meaning in her dance above the clouds, but a little voice in the back of her mind eventually began to nag at her. She had a warm home to go to, she had a sister, a friend, and a son waiting for her. A son… it was a strange thought. She loved the little colt, but did she love him any different than any other of her ponies? She mulled the thought over in her head as she glided back to the city. The foal had only been in her life for a week, but she was already bending her routine and her schedule for him.

Landing on the balcony, the melody of Clover’s tin whistle caught her ear. It was a cheery tune, quick, with a sharp beat: a perfect dancing tune for a party.

Opening the door, Celestie peered inside. The smell of dinner cooking hit her the moment she stuck her nose through the door. Her long day, and impromptu workout, suddenly caught up to her as her stomach begged for whatever Merry was cooking.

Staying quiet, Celestia eased her head into the room to look for Clover. She wanted to watch him play his song for a moment before interrupting him. Over by a bookshelf, she saw him with the metal flute in his magic. With his eyes closed, he let the melody pour out of him. Celestia couldn’t help but nod along with the happy tune. She would have to see about getting him a proper recorder to play.

A cold wind blew against Celestia’s back, pushing the door open a little further. Clover shivered as the draft rolled over him, interrupting his song. He let the flute fall to the floor, and looked towards the open door with a mixture of annoyance and confusion, but his eyes lit up the instant he saw her.

“Mom!” he said, trying to stand faster than his legs could untangle.

Celestia jolted at the word. A confused smile spread across her muzzle as the colt found his balance, then galloped over to her. She could only absently pat his back when he wrapped himself around one of her forelegs in a hug.

The embrace only lasted a moment, before he let go and began trotting around in circles, rambling in a mix of broken Equestrian and his unknown language. “… cider … … big … dragon … … Platinum … spear … Tiger … … … snow.”

A sound caught Celestia’s attention, looking up from the excited foal, she found but Luna and Merry snickering at her from the hallway.

“He’s been like that since he got home,” Merry said.

Celestia blinked, then looked back to Clover, who had sat down against her leg, to listen to the conversation. “He called me Mom.”

“We heard,” Luna said. “It is what you wanted, is it not?”

A smile crept across Celestia’s muzzle. Mom. She had never held that title; the weight of it was second only to princess. “It is.” She nodded. “I was just not expecting it so soon. I’m surprised he even knows the word.”

“The guard took Clover home for lunch with his family. He probably picked it up there,” Merry said. “He also took him to the museum, and made him some alphabet flashcards.” Mentioning the latter, Merry pointed to the little stack of hoof-made cards sitting on an endtable. “The professor wants him reading as fast as possible.”

Celestia nodded. “I owe Green Bean a thank you.” Bending down, Celestia kissed the top of Clover’s head. Closing the balcony door, Celestia floated her regalia off, and laid them on a nearby table. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up a large parcel that had apparently come in the mail.

“It is from Rarity,” Luna said, following the box to her sister. “Clover’s coat, I would guess.”

With a smile, Merry excused herself back to the kitchen. “Dinner will be on the table in just a few minutes.”

Celestia smiled at Clover’s youthful curiosity over the box as she peeled it open. She shared in his wonder as the pulled the neatly packed coat out of its wrapping. Rarity’s work never failed to impress her. The thick, soft-blue coat was going to look handsome on Clover, and the material was heavy enough to survive being played in. Bright emerald buttons shined like his eyes, giving the heavy coat a noble look.

Hanging it on the coat rack, she turned her attention back to Clover. His mane was a mess, and a few blotches on his coat told her he had gotten into some mud earlier in the day. “Let’s go get you cleaned up for dinner,” she said, leading Clover back to the bathroom.

In the bathroom nearest Clover’s room, Celestia was glad to see a step stool had finally been brought in for him. Clover seemed equally happy to have it, as he hopped up to the sink, and turned it on like it was a well-practiced routine.

While Clover lathered his hooves, Celestia looked across the hall to the room he had taken as his own. It was still the same as all the other guest rooms; comfortable, but impersonal. She really needed to decorate the room to fit Clover. If only she knew more about what he liked. Anatomy made for poor decoration, and music only went so far.

The sound of the water being shut off brought her attention back to Clover, who now was dripping wet from nose to hooves. Grabbing a towel, she giggled.

A good toweling off later, and Celestia was leading Clover back into the kitchen.

Celestia helped Clover onto his stool. “How was your day?” she asked Merry.

“It was nice. I took the grandfoals out to lunch; let the kids have some time to themselves.“ Settling in, Merry took a sweet potato from the table, and put it on her plate.

Luna plucked a potato for herself, and some butter to dress it with. “How is your daughter?” she asked, floating a pat of butter onto Merry’s plate.

Celestia only half listened to the small talk, as she took a serving of mixed greens. She started to put some on Clover’s plate too, but paused as Perfect Diction’s words came back to her. “How do you teach the word ‘want’?

“Do... you... want... salad?” she asked, slowly enunciating each word. She held the bowl towards him, making the gesture obvious, even if he didn’t yet understand the words.

Clover nodded with a smile. “Yes.” His accent was thick, but the word was there.

Giving him a little pile of greens, she traded the salad bowl, for the bowl of brussel sprouts. “Do you want brussels sprouts?”

Leaning forward, Clover looked into the bowl, but reeled back the moment he smelled the contents. “No…”

Celestia couldn’t help but snicker; she couldn’t stand the things, either. Turning to face her, Luna faked a haughty air while taking the serving bowl form Celestia’s magic. “All the more for me,” she said, before scooping most of its contents onto her plate.

Laughs rolled around the table for a moment, before idle conversation resumed, and Celestia took the next item to offer Clover. One by one, she offered him every item on the table. She wasn’t sure if he was picking up on what she was trying to teach him, but she thought he was.

It was in the middle of debating how to start the changes to the court schedule, that Clover proved her right.

“Want water,” he stammered, pushing his empty glass forward.

The three adults shared a smile.

“You know,” Luna said, filling Clover’s glass from the pitcher. “You're going to miss this as soon as he’s grown.”

“Maybe,” Celestia admitted. “Maybe.”