Chapter 22
Belching, Copperquick pushed his plate away from him and then just sat there, satiated. All of Buttermilk’s hard work had paid off with a meal of macaroni pie and chopped salad greens. No doubt he had eaten far too much, but he would survive this somehow. The entire time he had been eating, Buttermilk kept looking at him—staring at him—and he knew why. Reaching out, he took her fetlock into his own, and gave it a tender squeeze.
“I know what you are up to,” he said in a low voice as Butter Fudge gave him a wry smile from across the table.
“Up to?” Buttermilk adjusted her glasses with her wing and went rather duck lippy at what Copperquick had said. “I wasn’t aware I was up to anything.”
“Oh but you are—” Copperquick was cut off by Buttermilk pulling her foreleg away and snorting. “You’re still trying to win me over by being all domestic—”
“What?”
“Even though you’re a scholar; and will be the breadwinner of the family; and you’re smart, and funny, and kind, and generous; you’re still trying to win me over by showing your domestic side—”
“Poppycock!”
“Oh, but you are… you’re still trying to show me that you can be a traditional mare that fits a traditional role, and I think it’s cute and adorable.” Copperquick saw Buttermilk’s cheeks take on a rosy glow; her lips began to move, but no words came out, and there were no further interruptions. Reaching out, he took her fetlock into his own once more, and gave her another squeeze. “You’ve already won me over. Now you’re just showing off.”
“She always was a little showboater.” Something very much like laughter could be heard in what Butter Fudge had said, and it flowed like a hidden current in a river with every word she had spoke. “So, we’re heading out to the Faucet? Sounds like fun. Lots of fond memories of that place. I think it’d be nice if the two of you made a few memories there. It’s why we love that place, it’s what we do there, and these traditions must be passed on.”
Leaning over, Copperquick planted a quick peck upon the cheek of the flustered, grumbling pegasus beside him. She quieted, but only a little, and he knew from her reaction that he was right with what he had said. For whatever reason, Buttermilk, a thoroughly modern mare, was still trying to win him over with a more traditional approach.
“Lucky for the two of you, I got all of my work finished yesterday, so today there wasn’t much to do. Just the usual chores.” Butter Fudge sighed, a contented sound, and then turned to look at Esmeralda, who was almost napping on the floor with her carrot and her eggplant. “It’s a shame that Midge has to work… but that’s the post office for you. Nothing keeps him from his appointed rounds.” The big mare sighed, tapped her plate with her hoof, and then sighed again.
“Moomy?”
“I just wish he was here, that’s all. I’m having an earth pony moment, I suppose. I’d like to have my family all together. You just got here and already there’s not many days left. I’ve already got a pretty good idea of how all this ends, it ends with me getting a son-in-law and a granddaughter, and I’m real happy about that, but I’m also sad because the two of you will be so far away.”
“Moomy, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry,” Butter Fudge groused as she made a dismissive wave with her hoof at her daughter. “You were gone for years, Beezy… years… and you were in such a hurry to fly away, too. Now, you’ll be leaving again soon, and I can’t help but wonder, how long will it be?”
“I’m sorry,” Buttermilk repeated and Copperquick felt her grip on his fetlock double.
“I’ll even pay for the train ticket… or even an airship. How long will it be, Beezy? Will Esme even remember me the next time I see her? Or will I be a stranger? Look, I get it, okay? Some of this is my fault… I had you pretty worked up and I kept your dander up so you’d stay motivated. Maybe I went too far… and maybe I should be sorry.”
“We’re all adults now, and I have finished school, and I hope that I’ve grown up a bit. We can sort this out, Moomy. You’re absolutely right, we need to make an effort to come back together as a family. Yes, I was angry, angry with you, and I suffered a severe rectal cranial inversion.”
It took several seconds for Butter Fudge to begin snortling and chortling at these words. The big mare wiped her eyes with her foreleg, smiled, and began to sniffle even as she snickered. Copperquick had a warm, squishy sensation in the depths of his barrel, and he found his own eyes growing misty.
“We should clean up so we can go,” Butter Fudge said while she blinked a few times. “We have a lot to catch up on. I feel a need to make up for lost time.”
Feral clouds rolled in from the west, but they didn’t appear threatening, at least not yet. Copperquick watched them as the skiff skimmed over the water and his daughter Esmeralda waved her forelegs around every time the craft bounced a little. There were a lot of islands out this way—some big, some small—but the river passages were quite narrow, with some being so much so that there were signs stating that water traffic could only pass in one direction.
Enormous cypress trees stood as silent sentinels over the islands, and there was no telling how ancient these trees might be. Wads of stringy moss dangled from the branches, which swooping birds collected to make nests. There were so many birds, many of which were species that Copperquick had never seen before and couldn’t name.
A unicorn went galloping past, his hooves splashing along the top of the water. Even though he knew better, Copperquick stared, because it wasn’t every day that you saw a unicorn go racing through a busy waterway. It must be nice to just walk wherever you felt like it, over pretty much anything from water to clouds. If Copperquick wanted to cross the river, he’d need a boat or he’d have to swim for it.
Copperquick had his head turned by Buttermilk just in time to watch as an Equestrian naval frigate went steaming past, its gleaming iron hull glistening with fresh goop to guard it against rust. The sight of it was enough to make Copperquick’s heart start pounding and his pulse raced with a delightful sense of patriotism that he did not understand; nor did he need to. His country had the right of it, and Equestria was his country.
“That Mister Mariner fellow, he’s building a naval shipyard here, a coal resupply station,” Butter Fudge said as she piloted her craft through traffic. “He owns the shipyards in Vanhoover, and most of the navy on this side of the continent is made there. The resupply station is expected to bring a lot of jobs this way, and Dales Delta is going to grow.”
For some reason, hearing this made Copperquick smile, as he liked seeing progress.
Faucet Island, as it was called, was wooded. The trees were quite gnarled, strange, and as they approached, Copperquick felt weird tingles in his hooves. There was something about this place, something off, something that made his dull magic sense tingle. It wasn’t often that he felt his magic sense react to anything, and sometimes, he forgot that he had a sixth sense.
The skiff drifted closer to the dock and Buttermilk took to the air to help secure the craft. Esmeralda came to life in her holder, squirming and burbling; overall, she seemed to be quite excited and happy, which eased Copperquick’s mind after hearing about potential discomfort. Only one other boat was tied up at the moment, a rowboat.
With a bump, they hit the dock, and Buttermilk went to work with some sections of rope. Copperquick hopped off of the skiff with Esmeralda hanging from around his neck. Cool, tingly sensations crept along his spine and he felt a static charge building in his pelt. What was this place and why did it have such an effect on him?
“This whole place was created by nature and magic,” Butter Fudge said as she powered down everything. “It’s all sediment and whatnot pulled up out of the delta. Head towards the middle, and you’ll see what we call the Faucet soon enough. You can’t miss it.”
Stepping off of the dock and onto the ground, Copperquick felt a curious jolt, which wasn’t unpleasant. The ground was silty, pale, a bit sandy, and smelled of salt. Overcome with curiousity, Copperquick took off along a well-worn path, moving with a brisk trot that made Esme bounce and giggle. There were bushes here loaded down with berries, even this early in the spring. He could recognise stinkberries and belchberries, along with blueberry and raspberry thickets.
Ahead, a he saw a pale white column, and he picked up his pace, gawking like some tourist. With each step closer, he felt curiouser and curiouser, and now he was most certainly aware that he had a magic sense. It was like standing in sunshine and having the heat seep deep down into your bones. It was then that he noticed it; a tiny grit of sand swirling upwards, born aloft by some unseen force.
He froze and went cross-eyed trying to get a better look at it as it swirled upwards on some unseen, unknown eddy. There was magic here, impressive magic, and he had never seen its like. Esmeralda giggled while she squirmed and kicked in her carrier, but Copperquick hardly noticed as he was too entranced by what he was seeing. A light touch startled him, almost causing him to run, and he gave Buttermilk a bewildered look while she stroked his neck, trying to soothe him.
“Go and look,” she said while gesturing at the white column with her other hoof.
Awestricken, Copperquick went forwards with Buttermilk, feeling very much like a foal once more. The world was too big, too mysterious, just as it had been in his youth, when stairs were impossible obstacles and playground puddles were vast oceans. A few years ago, he had crossed the ocean in search of a better life, and the memory of those puddles was never quite the same. Everything became a confusing jumble of remembrances, such as his father seeming to shrink in size as Copperquick grew older, or his mother’s pies growing smaller and less filling.
When he drew closer to the column, he saw bits of rock crumbling off it and falling down to the ground below. Even more curious though was the water; it flowed up the column, rolled off the sharp tip, and then fell upwards into the sky above. This was… Copperquick struggled to think of the name… A stalagmite? No, it couldn’t be, a stalagmite was formed by water dripping down from above. He reconsidered and came to the conclusion that this was an upside down stalactite, because the water dripped from the tip of it.
The water came up from below somehow, from the river, from the ground; it filtered through the island, leaving behind sediments; and whatever mineral content was left behind formed this column, the Faucet as it was called. By the looks of it, parts of it crumbled off and formed more earth. But what caused this?
“It looks different,” Buttermilk whispered into Copperquick’s twitchy-twitchy ear. “The last time I saw it, it was a whole lot taller. Somepony probably broke it off and it had to start over. It is soft and fragile.”
The water flowed upwards in a steady stream, defying gravity and falling into the sky. What became of it, Copperquick had no idea, and thinking about it too hard gave him a sense of almost-pleasurable vertigo. With a gasp, he noticed that his mane was floating, and so was Esmeralda’s, which was now tickling the underside of his jaw.
“I have such fond memories of this place,” Butter Fudge said as she joined them.
“Like what, Moomy?”
“Making you.”
“Moomy!” Buttermilk now cringed from behind her front hooves, which covered her face. “Must you be so embarrassing?”
Groaning, Butter Fudge rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Beezy. I was actually trying to share a good memory, not cause you to die from embarrassment.”
“But it is very embarrassing,” Buttermilk replied, shaking her head. “And this is a public place. How could you even know, anyhow? I mean, conception and all of its various complications—”
“Beezy,” Butter Fudge deadpanned, and Buttermilk went silent. “It was a ways over there that I pulled Midge into the bushes with me and I sat on him. We’d already had our way with one another a few times, but I wanted to know what his intentions were with me. It was about midnight or so, and we had the whole island to ourselves… it was just us and the fireflies.”
Buttermilk’s glasses were now completely fogged over and Copperquick stood listening.
“Midge and I talked about the things we wanted from life… he made it clear that he wanted a son and he was a pony of simple, straightforward needs. I don’t know how long we talked in those bushes, but things eventually got a bit heated, and one thing led to another, and then we did what young ponies in love tend to do. It wasn’t like the other times, not at all. At the end of it all, I had this… this… feeling. It was like my earth pony senses were all screaming at me. I walked over to the Faucet, and I did what I wasn’t supposed to do, and I touched it. It shocked me. Afterwards, I felt really weird inside. Midge and I ended up watching the sun come up together and I’m pretty certain that was the night we made you.”
“Um, thank you, Moomy.” Beet red, Buttermilk buzzed over to where her mother stood, lowered her head down, and kissed her mother’s cheek. “That was actually a sweet story and my only regret other than being painfully embarrassed right now is that Daddums wanted a son.”
Butter Fudge chuckled and angled her head upwards to look up at her daughter. “That never mattered to Midge. After you were born, he lost his mind because he was so in love with you. There were times that I was jealous and I hated him a little bit. I was never one to share the affection I felt I was owed, which is why it was just Midge and I. There’s no way I could ever share him with another mare. I had fits just sharing him with you… took me a long time before I made peace with it. Beezy, you get your possessiveness from me, I think. I hope it never brings you harm.”
Backing away a little bit, Copperquick gave the two mares a little much-needed space.
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8549060
NOPE. I'll remain ignorant then.
Such a sweet story about how "Beezy" came to be born!
Though I am MOST curious now about the magic of this place! O.O
now this has all kinds of lewd implications
making a baby near a magical anomaly like that makes one wonder
did the excess baby batter trickle up or down her backside after they were done?
this question needs an answer Kudz
8549709
Ley line crossing. Most of the identifying signs are laid out in The Weed.
8549719
T rated story.
where exactly does this fit in with the weedverse, specifically is it before mister mariner caused chaos?
8549730
Yes. This is the spring before the winter of discount tents.
8549732
not sure how to take that.
side bit, thought up more details to that lawyer character if you're interested
8549732
Nooooooooooooooo, them puns.
8549767
Intensity in tent cities.
8549775
Lol
I admit, I'm still trying to puzzle out Mariner's exact motivations, even when he's not central to the story. I suppose that one could argue that it was all done in the name of profit, but that doesn't seem in keeping with his behaviors.
To acquire power? Well, perhaps, but again, that doesn't seem in keeping with his behaviors.
Maybe I missed something from PRoS, but the more time goes by, the more convinced I become that Mister Mariner does what he does because he's bored, and wants to see what happens when he tinkers with the fabric of society. That seems to fit nicely into his behaviors: Threaten to ruin a spoiled brat's fun, and they start to break things in retaliation.
... but that's not really relevant to the story being told here. Carry on!
I wonder if the druids know about this place.
8550167
I... sort of assumed he was possessed and/or mind controlled. Or magically blackmailed like that colt Dim saved. We know the collapse was orchestrated by Grogar's forces since they also mind-controlled the crowd to riot (more).
What he did was completely suicidal.
If you mean 'why is he building industry everywhere and making monopolies', well, that's what people do if they can. It's fun!
I think we can all agree that the last thing we want to hear about is how our parents conceived us.
... Midge survived cowgirl style with Butter? Isn't he basically the size of a colt?
Guess that's why he's called Mighty.
8551914
Now that wasn't said.
8549726
ah thats right cant have those conversations here
8551917
With the "I sat on him" bit it sounded a lot like she was describing HOW Beezy was conceived before going back and going over the entire night.
8551924
She sat on him to talk...
too