• Published 7th Jan 2016
  • 1,686 Views, 42 Comments

Snuggle Me, for I am Not a Wraith! - Michael Hudson



My name is Twilight Sparkle, and my grandma is Clover the Clever.

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The Beginning of a Life

Night Watch paced outside of the bedroom, unable to sit still as he wondered what was going within. Trina had asked him to wait outside, but the time was killing him at this point. Ghastly’s labor had been anything but comfortable, having begun prematurely due to another night terror. Even then, his wife had asked that they keep to their privacy, and call for the doctor they trusted to come to the house, instead of going to the small hospital in town. “I just hope everything goes alright.”

More time passed, and the hours of the night stretched long. Night remembered times when he was young and he would use these hours for mischief, usually not needing much sleep. That was in fact how he had even gotten Ghastly to fall for him, or at least, he blamed it for what persuaded her to finally accept his hand.

He looked to his blackened hooves and let out a sigh. That night had changed everything. He had become cursed with the wraith’s power, Ghastly had almost died at its hand, and only Starswirl and Clover having been worried of such a thing being the ghost in the town had allowed the two to survive. Time spent in the hospital had let their love blossom though, even while Ghastly never wanted to be around ponies ever again. If they died, their ghosts could target her, and she couldn’t put up with the thought, not back then.

His thoughts turned to Starswirl and Clover the Clever giving them the large cottage when the door to the bedroom swung open. He swung around, his heart stopped as the dark blue unicorn stepped out. Her white mane was a mess, and she didn’t meet his eyes as she hung her head low. Night thought the worst and rushed over. “M-miss Lulamoon… is she okay? Are they okay?”

The mare looked to him, before briefly nodding and pointing her muzzle to the sky. “The miraculous Trina never leaves her patients feeling worse than before, and now is no different.” She then looked to him, and swallowed hard. “You may want to wait though. Your filly is fine, but it will take a few more moments for Ghastly to recover. She…”

Night nodded as he placed a hoof on Trina’s back. “It can get pretty scary when she goes into her past like that. Did… did she at least not try to hurt our little one?”

Trina shook her head furiously. “She seemed more afraid of herself than anypony else. Like she was about to fail in what she was doing, and wanted to do more when she needed to simply breath and push. Trina… Trina will admit that it was quite off putting for her.”

Night nodded. While Ghastly had stayed with him at first, she had lost herself back to the terrors and pain by the time the nurse had arrived. Neither had known how the whole thing might go, or if it might lead to Ghastly not identifying the filly as ‘her’ daughter. “I’m just happy she seems to care for the little one. I don’t know what I would have done if she had tried to push our filly away.”

The presence of the nurse was apparent to him soon after she put a hoof onto his back. “So, on a happier topic, do you two perhaps know what you may be naming her? Perhaps keep to one of your names?”

He shook his head. “Ghastly’s family has an odd tradition to never name their children after them, unless it fits.” He bit into his lip as he thought. He hadn’t prepared any names, the two hadn’t even really discussed it.

“Well, Trina knows that all of her descendants will be Lulamoons. She does not wish to be forgotten. Oh, um, sorry!”

He waved a hoof as he looked outside to the waxing light of the sun. “It’s okay, I understand what you mean.” His thoughts were away from her as the first rays of the morning pierced the sky. “Did you know that the twilight hours are supposed to be the time for ghosts? When the barrier between light and dark wanes, allowing the dead and living to come closer through dusk, and leave at dawn. At least, that’s what Ghastly has always said.”

The nurse came up beside him, looking out to the sky herself now. “Hmph. With that sort of purple and pink, I would think the sky is trying to copy your daughter.”

Night’s eyes widened before he turned to the grinning mare, his thoughts rushing at what that might mean. “Is she…”

“Ep, ep, ep! The courteous Trina won’t dare spoil that for you. You’ll have to go see for yourself.” She smiled as the stallion’s curiosity got the better of him.

He barely remembered to slowly open the door to the room, so as not to reawaken his wife. A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw that all was calm, though the mess around the room promised him a busy few hours once the two were awake and moving. He didn’t quite see the bundle of joy waiting for him until a small squeak came from the side, and a tiny, lavender hoof pawed at the air.

Night slowly walked over, his blue hair standing on edge as he looked down through his black mane. A small filly with bright, purple eyes stared back. Having wrestled it loose, she now waved her hoof around, and bopped Night on the muzzle as tears came to his eyes. She was a beautiful shade of purple, with darker hues making up most of her mane. The only oddity there was that streak of pink, just like in the sky.

He looked deep into her eyes as his first tear drop fell, splashing onto her face and causing the filly to squirm. He chuckled to himself as he brushed the tears away, his mind turning back to the name. “I was named because I stared at the night sky after I was born, unable to tear my eyes away from its beauty. Ghastly claims her name came from her colors, and a vision Clover had when she was born.”

He looked out the window again, taking in the many hues of purple and pink that were soon to be overcome by the orange of day. They truly were a beautiful array of colors, and forced his smile to grow even larger as he looked down. There he saw his little filly, who had managed to get both hooves out of her wrappings, and reached for him. He could feel the warmth within him that had nestled in when he had first met Ghastly glow, and could see a sparkle in the young one’s eyes. He barely breathed, “Hello, Twilight Sparkle,” before allowing the tiny hooves to try wrap around him. A squeal of delight escaped the newborn Twilight as she nuzzled with her father, Trina watching the simple bliss from the background, before leaving to go tell Clover the good news.

It was a unicorn, and Ghastly was in no state to push her towards society.