Against All Odds: Derpy's Greatest Misadventure

by Mannulus

For a Start

For what must have been the hundredth time that day, Derpy Hooves glanced down at her daughter to make sure she was still there. Her gaze was most intent on her hooves; she strained her eyes to be certain they still rested firm on the cloud. Several times she suspected they had very slightly sunk, and each time she snatched Dinky up to hold her aloft. In every such instance, however, a careful test revealed that the little unicorn was still buoyant and able to stand on Cloudsdale's puffy foundations as surely as if they were solid ground.

Princess Twilight had promised the spell would last for three days, and had even demonstrated its safety via Pinkie Pie's willing assistance. Still, Derpy found it difficult to get used to her daughter being so high up in the sky, supported only by an enchantment. Unicorns were magical, certainly, but they were still a type of pony never meant to leave the ground for more than a momentary hop, skip, or jump.

That thought spurred Derpy once more to imagine that Dinky's hooves had slipped some tiny fraction of an inch downward into the surface of the cloud, and once more she snatched the little unicorn up into her forelegs, hopping upward to hover over the surface of the cloud.

"Ditzy," said Chill Breeze, standing just below her and to her left.

Derpy's true given name came out of his mouth as equal parts sigh and huff. She grinned, uncomfortably, still clutching Dinky to her chest.

"Well, it's just..." she began.

"I know," said Chill Breeze, "but if you keep grabbing her up like this every thirty seconds, it's gonna take us half the day to get to your dad's place."

"Mom," said Dinky, "I feel kinda airsick. Could you put me down?"

"Sorry, Dinks," said Derpy, and she gently lowered the little unicorn to where she had stood only moments before. "Just don't go near the edge of the clouds. It's easy to slip off; I've... done it... a bunch."

"Can we get moving now?" asked Chill Breeze. "Everything'll be fine."

"Sure," said Derpy.

She glanced warily at Dinky, and gnawed at the edge of her hoof. Chill Breeze was right, of course; everything would be fine. After all, Princess Twilight would never have put Dinky's safety in jeopardy by using a spell in which she had anything less than complete confidence. Nonetheless, Dinky was the single most precious thing in the world to Derpy; her life's biggest investment, and all that remained to her beyond memories of someone she had dearly loved. It simply wasn't easy to know she was more-or-less in mortal peril.

"Dinky," said Chill Breeze, observing Derpy's nervous posture, "why don't you walk next to me... further away from your mom."

"Okay!" said Dinky, and she darted under Chill Breeze's belly, right between his fore and hind legs.

"Whoa!" he cried, arching his back to let her pass. "You're getting kinda big for that, you know? And don't run around so fast; might be a sinkhole around here somewhere. Your mom's not completely paranoid; you could slip right through if you don't watch your step."

"Sorry!" said Dinky. "I'm just excited! I've never been up this high before! I never met Grandpa before, either!"

"Neither have I," said Chill Breeze, but Derpy could tell from the tone of his voice that he was not nearly so excited by the prospect as Dinky.

It wasn't that Derpy had not wanted Dinky to meet the old stallion -- her or Chill. It was that she wasn't sure whether he would want to meet either of them. He was a withdrawn stallion who rarely left his house, and he lived on the outskirts of Cloudsdale. His house, the home of Derpy's own formative years, sat on a puff of old cloud that always seemed a bit grayer than the clouds around it. The local weather and construction crews were kind enough to keep a bridge of cloud running from the main body of the city out to that one lonely little cloud with its one lonely little house, but the clouds leading out towards it were, as Chill Breeze had warned Dinky, less stable and solid than those of Cloudsdale proper.

With a bit of care, however, they made their way across them, and soon stood before the tiny, gray house that stood alone in the sky. It had always seemed to Derpy that the little house had a face, with its two front windows and short staircase, and that face had, for longer than she cared to remember, always seemed sad and lonesome. Its window eyes were dark now, the way she most clearly remembered them, and the awning of its porch had sagged until the whole house appeared weary and forlorn. It made Derpy's heart ache to see it this way, and she wondered what her mother would think if she could see it like this.

"Doesn't matter, Derps," she mumbled to herself. "She's gone, and you're all he's got left of her... And you ran away."

"What was that?" said Chill Breeze.

"Ruminating," said Derpy, shaking her head. "Talking to myself like I do sometimes. Just thinking about how I should have come back here a long time ago."

"You came back when you were ready," said Chill, shrugging. "What good would it have done if you weren't?"

Chill was nothing like Derpy in many ways. He was calm, collected, and largely unemotional, whereas Derpy was always a mess of confused thoughts and worries. Somehow, though, he always did seem to know what to say, and she never ceased to be grateful for that.

They were standing on the front porch, now, and Derpy sighed.

"Well, no use putting it off," she said, and she knocked twice gently on the door.

"That all?" said Chill Breeze. "That wasn't very loud."

"If he's in there, he heard it," said Derpy.

"And if he's not in there?" asked Chill Breeze.

"Then he's probably dead," mumbled Derpy.

They waited for over a minute before Chill Breeze spoke again.

"You sure you shouldn't knock again?" he asked.

"He's coming," said Derpy. "It always took him minute to get out of bed."

"It's two in the aftern..." began Chill Breeze, but he did not finish.

The door knob crackled, creaked, and twisted, and the door began to open. As it swung fully aside, there came a gasp from Dinky, followed by a confused cluster of not-quite greetings.

"Oh," said Chill Breeze, and then, "Uh-huh."

"Hi, Daddy," said Derpy, trying her best to smile.

"Ditzy?" said Her Father, raising a hoof to shield his yellow eyes from the sun.

"Grandpa's a bat pony!" shouted Dinky, hopping up and down.

Indeed he was: a paint bat pony of two contrasting grays that mottled themselves together unevenly all over his body. He had Derpy's yellow eyes, narrowed to fine slits in the sunlight, and his mane, salt and pepper where once it had been black, was thinned with his age. He was tall and rail thin, and his cutie mark was a coffin.

"Daddy, this is Chill Breeze... My... uh... yeah," said Derpy.

"I see," said the Bat Pony, moving his hoof around to best shield his eyes as he tried to look the blue pegasus over. His tone of voice gave Derpy no clue as to whether he did or did not approve.

"And this is Dinky," said Derpy, "She's my... she's your... uh... well... yeah."

"I see," said her father again.

"Dinky, Chill," said Derpy. "This is Hearse Lastride."

"Doo," said Hearse. "Hearse Doo, Ditzy. I don't go by my bat pony name; I still use your mom's. It doesn't frighten the neighbors as much."

"But your first name is 'Hearse,' said Chill Breeze, "and you don't have any neighbors."

"Well, I did what I could," said Hearse.

"I'm a quarter bat pony!" Dinky cried, hopping up and down.

Then, all at once, she stopped still where she stood, and looked up at her mother.

"What's that mean?" she asked.

"Do you like the dark?" asked Hearse.

"It's okay I guess," said Dinky. "I'm not really afraid of it or anything."

"That's probably about it," said Hearse.

"Cool!" said Dinky.

"Well, come inside," said the bat pony. "Quick, before I go blind staring into Celestia's wretched fireball."

"You know, Daddy, you don't have to be so negative," said Derpy. "We do need the sun."

"We need morticians, too," said Hearse, "but I don't ask anypony to worship me for it."

He turned and disappeared into the house, leaving the three of them standing on the porch.

"Cheery fellow," said Chill.

"I heard that," Hearse's voice echoed through the open door.

"I shouldn't really expect him to like me, should I?" asked Chill Breeze.

"Goodness, no," said Derpy.

"Let's just go inside," said Chill Breeze.

Derpy nodded, took a deep breath, and gave her daughter a nudge forward. As the three ponies entered the house, they found a place so austere that it might have been questionable whether anypony lived there at all. There was little furniture and no paintings or other decoration of any kind on the walls. It was also oppressively dark; hardly any light filtered through the heavy, black curtains on the windows.

Seeing Chill Breeze glance around apprehensively, Derpy leaned close and whispered into his ear.

"Momma used to have lots of nice furniture and decorations in here" she said. "After she died, Daddy didn't want to see them anymore, so he put them away in the attic."

"Oh," said Chill. "At least it makes the place seem clean."

There came from a dark corner the sound of a match striking, and it drew their collective gaze. Hearse's pupils, which had dilated in the dark, drew themselves once more into slits as he touched the match to the wick of a lantern on what revealed itself by the light as a dining table. It was bare of any tablecloth, and totally without ornamentation.

"I don't have any food to offer you," said the bat pony. "If you'd written ahead..."

"It's okay," said Derpy. "We ate on the way here."

Hearse gave a mild, neutral grumbling in his throat, and nodded slightly.

"Well," he said. "May I ask what brings you knocking on my door after five years without so much as a letter?" He scratched at his chin. "Or is it six?"

"Eight," said Derpy, her head dropping towards the floor. "It's eight."

"Sounds about right," said Hearse. "So, what's the deal? You marrying this guy or something?"

He nodded towards Chill Breeze, who gave a surprised grunt in exactly the same moment as Derpy's sharp "What?" Dinky only turned her head in confusion, and raised an eyebrow.

"No!" said Derpy.

Chill Breeze gave her a look that mixed surprise and mild dejection, and she realized she had been more enthusiastic than she had intended.

"W... Well, maybe!" she corrected herself. "That's not... It's a not-right-now thing, if it's a thing, but it could be a thing!" She turned to Chill and nodded momentarily.

"It could... maybe."

"So, you just dropped by after eight years to say, 'Hi?'" asked Hearse.

"Not just that," said Derpy. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. I should have written you or come to see you... or something."

"Well, you're here," said Hearse. "What now?"

Derpy looked around the dark, barren room.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe I could pull out some of Momma's old things? Fix the house up for you? I don't like you living here with it like this. It's sad."

"It doesn't bother me, Ditzy," said Hearse. "I sleep all day and work all night. I only use my bedroom, anyway."

"And it looks just like everything else, doesn't it?" asked Derpy, a note of accusation in her voice.

"It's dark," said Hearse. "So, yeah; just like everything else."

"At least let me try," said Derpy. "It would make me feel better."

Hearse sighed.

"Fine," he said, "but don't get mad if I put it all away again when you're gone."

"I won't," said Derpy. "Just don't get mad if I take it all out again when I come back."

"I won't," said Hearse, and he lifted his head suddenly.

"Come to think of it," he said. "I think I've got some tea in the cupboard. It's old, but it might still be good. I'll go make some for everypony."

With that, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the three of them alone in the dining room.

"Did you two just... bond... or reconcile or whatever?" asked Chill Breeze.

"I don't know what we did," said Derpy, "but I'll take it for a start."