Morty Meets Sunbottom.
Nook sighed as her little colt glowered ahead of them as if his surroundings had mortally offended him.
“I don’t see why I have to go,” her son whined, showing his age for once.
She ruffled the colt's messy mane, making him squawk indignantly, “Mum! Your messing up my mane!” (1)
Caboose chuckled, “I think all your mother's styling spells and all the mane gel in the world can't fix that, now trot along, It’s spring cleaning…again, and we need to get a start on it without a certain little pony getting under hoof,” Nook said, chuckling at her son's affronted look.
Morty grumbled but grudgingly shifted his saddle bag and reluctantly slunk towards the open doors of Hayview Elementary.
2 hours later...
Morty glowered at the happy frolicking foals as they played in the large open play ground behind the school. So much...youth! Glah! He hadn't been around this many children in centuries! and here he was, trapped as one for the next few years, surrounded by them.
“Awww, whats wrong junior, you should be out playing with your fellow fillys and colts,” a voice chortled to his near left.
“Shut it Death,” the green eyed colt grouched then turned a baleful eye on the amorphous cloud of darkness that only he and those just about to die could see, “and it certainly took you awhile to actually stick what passes for a metaphorical muzzle in my sight since my traumatizing birth, its been what? 5 years? Not counting the time I was an embryo.”
“Life and Magic were rather insistent that I not be around during your first few formative years, and Time was pouty over your future lack of wrinkles...something about my bad influence and establishing connections in all the wrong ways and all that rot…muzzle huh? Started using the local lexicon I see, should I give you a hand…or is that hoof now?” Death cackled.
“Smart arse,” Morty grumbled, “so what do you want?”
“What, no how are you? How’s business been in the other-realms? *Sigh!* kids...I mean, foals these days, no manners.”
Harry snorted and returned to sipping his drink box and taking voracious bites of his daisy sandwich. Being in a body that hungered again, among other things, lead to a continual need to stuff his face, it was one of the more enjoyable distinctions of this new life.
His mother often joked that he had a hollow hoof.
Speaking of which…
“So, just to clarify, am I mortal again or something? I happen to notice that I have been aging, eating, breathing, and…other things.”
Bathroom time was something he had not missed and was an altogether different experience as a pony.
Death sniffed, “As if I would make you something as boring as mortal again. No, no matter the form, you will always be beyond the grasp of the Hereafter. Though I admit that your body is currently developing at a rate expected of mortals your age and species if you were a mortal, so i can't blame you for the confusion, that’s mainly to age your body to the pony equivalent of the age that you first became immortal. It was Life’s idea I believe, give you a chance to properly...ug! "Experience living" my sibling is so sentimental.”
“So if I were to fling myself off a cliff…?” Morty drawled.
“Other then giving some poor nearby pony a heart attack, the same as before, your body would continue to go along the path it is as if you hadn’t snuffed yourself in a dramatic cliché.”
"So the appetite and all that?”
“Oh, to help your body along, but I am willing to let it remain as long as you want since it seems to amuse you if you like.”
Morty grunted, but otherwise was relatively satisfied with the answer.
Death eventually wandered off to terrify some other pony who was about to be crushed horribly by a falling piano down the street.
Morty sighed and cleaned up his lunch before pulling out a book and settled in for the rest of recess, hopefully uninterrupted by anymore immature nonsense again.
Ooo ooo ooo
6 years later...
Morty eyed the dessert table hungrily.
The Master of Death had developed a sweet tooth over the years by this point, and was especially keen on pastries.
Morty was currently dressed up in a smart little suit, balancing a tray of sparkling apple juice and healthier edibles on his rump with a little discreet magical assistance.
It was the annual Winter Wrap up ball in Hayview, and his Mother's recent expansion of her tea shop into Canterlot had earned her attention from the local high-hoofs. She and a plus one were invited to the latest high end shindig as a result. Unfortunately for Morty, his father had managed to make his escape by declaring a sudden emergency trip to visit uncle Steamboat, thus Morty, the faithful son that he was, was left the only one to escort his mother.
He was considered old enough at 11 for such esteemed events, though still to young to enjoy a good hard cider, and generally was there to be the cute factor of the evening, much to his annoyance.
Death who was paying a visit had nearly burst a metaphorical gut with laughter when he was refereed to as that “adorable fluffy little gentle-colt,” by a robust pegasus mare in a fine turquoise gown.
He was not fluffy! Even if his tail looked like black cotton candy!
Death, who was around a lot more often as he got older, left him to his fixation on the pastries and long suffering mane ruffling, to hover menacingly over an old-timer in the cigar room. Morty knew he would be dead within moments, though when he overheard the old stallion greet Death amicably and asked him if he would like to hear the story of his trip to Trottingham before getting down to business, Morty reassessed his internal estimation. Death liked socializing those rare times it was offered so in its usual moment of randomness, agreed, and the two actually shared various stories of the place while sharing a fine cognac (yes Death can be solid enough to enjoy such things if it wants, this time taking the form of an all black pony) before the old fellow slumped over comfortably and didn’t wake up.
Death always did appreciate courtesy, so rare in its line of work, and sometimes awarded a painless comfortable ending upon occasion when it was offered.
Harry turned his attention back to the most important matter at hoof.
His mother had made him promise to be polite to the other guests, and Morty prided himself on keeping his promises over the centuries, the few times when he gave them anyway.
Unfortunately, that meant, as both politeness, and his current status as the cute factor, the dessert table, groaning under Major Soufflé’s excellent baking, was being continually cake-blocked by the guests.
He eyed the large plate of treacle tart, something he was glad had evolved into being in both worlds, as it glistened at him in the magical candle light, taunting him from where he was sandwiched between two old madams gossiping about some race or other in Cloudsdale.
He licked his lips, and hoped that the upper crust weren’t going to eat up all the good stuff before he had a chance for a go.
He was eventually released and Morty knew that it was now or never!
He looked around himself furtively, ducking low to the ground, slithering from one support post, to flowing skirt, to another, and was within inches of that rich sticky goodness...
“Well your certainly the smallest escort I’ve ever seen,” an amused female voice declared.
Morty turned away from the table with a thwarted sigh and came muzzle to leg with the speaker, then looked upwards.
She was a tall pony, very, very tall, with flowing pastel rainbow mane and tail that floated in a wave of her own power, she wore a golden crown on her head and had a large prominent horn and a set of majestic white wings furled neatly against her haunches.
Morty didn’t need to see the awe filled adoration directed the mare’s way or see her cutie mark of a blazing sun motif to know who this mare was.
Princess Celestia was just as grand as she was whispered about, and from what he understood from Death, was semi-immortal. Ageless, able to transcend certain physical bounds, stupid powerful, but her body was able to be injured and could be killed.
Said Death was completely absent for this meeting between two powerful sort of gods at the dessert table though, figures.
He dragged up his small modicum of etiquette and bowed smoothly, taking the princess’s hoof in his smaller one and kissed it grandly, “your highness.”
The fact that it came out less grand and more prepubescent squeaky with a slight lisp (he was losing a baby-tooth) was beside the point.
The Princess chuckled in amusement, “such a little gentlecolt,” she declared.
“That’s what I’m here for milady,” Morty declared blandly, straightening, “I’m the cute factor at this event, so take your shots now.”
The Princess actually snorted inelegantly at his dry cheek, but managed to control her amusement.
“Yes, well, many ponies have many duties they must fulfill in their lifetime,” she replied seriously, though with twinkling eyes that suddenly reminded him strongly of Dumbledore.
“Now,” she turned to the dessert table with a look that Morty had worn moments before her arrival, “being a worldly colt such as yourself, it would behoove you to be gentlecoltly and help me eat my way through all this dessert!”
Morty reasoned that it was still technically fulfilling his promise. So not bothered at all that he was essentially plunking himself on a stool beside the ruler of Equestria in a manner that might be a little less reverent then many ponies would be comfortable with, he dug in.
The Princess watched him with a considering eye as she hogged the Banana Cream pie and the Chocolate covered bananas, though Morty was oblivious to her growing scrutiny, blissed out on treacle, he didn't notice the increasing intrigue on behalf of the princess, an intrigue that began from the moment she had spied the unusual darker tone of green of his magic, almost black even, when he had been levitating his snack plate, or the rather easy way he acted around her.
In fact he had nearly forgotten her presence, as they were both busy eating (a few other, braver ponies taking something from the opposite end of the table gamely) that he didn’t notice her sharpened gaze when he unconsciously conjured a clean fork when his own dropped onto the floor and continued eating.
“You are very skilled in magic,” the princess commented in a casual manner suddenly.
Morty paused mid-chew, then swallowed and gave her a weary look, “I suppose,” he said, inwardly cursing his obsession with dessert.
It was not normal for a foal his age to be able to conjure solid objects, even if it just happened sometimes to unicorn young, the pony version of accidental magic in this world, one his age was by this point was usually a bit more settled magically by now. He blamed Magic, which so loved it when he used it, whether consciously or not, and was always looking for an excuse to show off.
That’s what happens when you put an old man with centuries of magical knowledge, deny him use of magic for centuries, then reacquaint him with said power, and both had a habit of making up for lost time.
“I’m nothing special really, just a spell or two here and there,” he stated hastily, suddenly not so hungry.
For a moment the two exchanged eye contact, and Morty was for a moment reminded that this pony was the ultimate authority on this planet, the sun and moon literally revolved around her, and a fellow immortal to a certain extent.
She looked at him as if she knew that he was lying, but didn’t’ call him on it thankfully.
After wiping her muzzle politely, the two exchanged goodbyes, and she went off to another part of the party to wow upper-crust there, her belly full of banana and her mind considering.
Ooo ooo ooo
Morty eventually forgot the incident with the princess after a week or two had passed, though Strawberry Lime and Sweet Dream, his mother's friends and coworkers, still gushed at his supposed honor and all that trot.
His mother thankfully only indulged in one gushing moment and one near conniption that he had been so forward and familiar with the proverbial god of ponies, but soon dropped it, bless her, after the lecture about proper decorum.
Weeks passed and eventually he dismissed the incident from his mind, turning to the more important business of sneaking hard cider from the local tavern, and telling dark and depressing haiku's to other colts and fillies in school when they ventured to close, scarring them mildly for life.
It turned out that he had dismissed the incident prematurely though as a certain letter came in by special delivery one morning during breakfast, the sparkling letter dropped from the talons of a phoenix of all creatures directly into his morning honey porridge.
His mother had snatched up the letter after cleaning it from his breakfast, staring bug eyed at the royal seal, and hastily opened it when Morty showed no inclination to, busy glowering at his ruined meal.
His mother began to gush at the contents and, after passing it to his father, the stallion gaped then looked quite proud, his chest puffed out.
“I can’t believe it! A letter to be tested for admittance into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns! Oh great Celestia!” His mother exclaimed, picking up Morty and whirling him around.
Morty grunted noncommittally, eyeing the phoenix that had delivered the letter, which was currently preening itself from its perch on the counter.
He knew that there were a lot of magical creatures similar to what was once found in his old world in this place, but this was the first time he was getting a chance to meet one since Hogwarts days.
Like Fawkes, this bird was filled with elegant flaming plumage, obviously fresh out of a burning day and fully grown again.
Death and Life loved these birds in equal measure, from what he understood of Death's rambles as the dark specter currently cooed over the bird, which fluffed its feathers in annoyance and subtly upped the wattage of its flames to ward off a premature burning day in Death's presence (2). They were the closest thing other then himself to immortality, especially now that he was going through the business of aging again, if even briefly, and after his bouts of bodily reconstitution and his own actual more recent "rebirth." he shared some similarity to the birds.
In a sense, Death had told him once, the flaming turkeys were the closest to kin the Master of Death would ever have, like some sort of cousin or something.
He managed to give the bird a nod and a polite “cousin,” before he was dragged off to go shopping for his new school things.
When they were gone, Philomena fluffed her feathers importantly, cocking her head after the odd pony-not-pony that had addressed her familiarly had disappeared out of the modest cottage doors, the oppressive presence of one of its creators had also eventually drifted away, bored.
She had never meant a cousin other then the Sun Bottom that was her companion, and the Night Mane from long before.
An interesting day it seemed.
Then she teleported out and went to be fawned over and given lots of candied pecans as was befitting one of her status.
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This might be interesting. I'll fav it so I can see where its headed.
I would read it tonight, but I just got off work, so I'm tired.
7073194 thanks! hope you enjoy it.
I sense edge...
*walks away*
I'm a fan of your works, and this is no exception. I hope to see it continued!
7073423 thanks! i got another chap for sometime later this week that needs to be edited.
so how far back in the show timeline is this?
Good story so far
7075362 hmmm... good question, i guess assume that the mane 6 are foals in this one. its pre-season 1 to start at least.
I do question though, is Harry going to replacing Twilight, or will he simple be someone being taught along side her? Anyway, great story thus far, keep goin and stay golden^^
7075606 wont be replacing twilight, but i think he'll be a bit older then Twilight. he will likely be at the school still when Twilight takes here entrance test.
Typos here and there, bit interesting enough.
Let's see where it will go.
thanks!
I'm actually glad that he wasn't the dignified type of Pony towards Celestia.
I honestly nearly thought he didn't wanted to go to Celestias school.
?
well not bad.
7077639 I can't decide if it would be more interessting that he is older than Twilight or not, till now I really like it, and I guess if I'm sure what I want it is to late to say something, but the idea of the story is good and works so far.
I'm interessted in what his romance would be, considering that he is maybe to old for the main six, but that doesn´t has to mean much.
Loved Philomena's bit at the end.