• Published 13th Dec 2011
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The Ambassador's Son - Midnightshadow



A colt loses his family, Celestia deems his best hope lies not with ponies, but a dragon.

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Secrets and Lies

The ══════════
Ambassador's
══════════ Son

Chapter Fourteen
Secrets and Lies
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow


Chip felt a hoof in his ribs. He jumped, it was painful.

"Snoring!" hissed Sunshine.

"Sorry!" he hissed back, trying to hide a yawn behind his hoof.

"Ahem! And as you can see, the late Lady Waterwings foaled five times and bore three fillies, two colts. The colts we can ignore, as male heirs in the period they were given small titles, a landholding but no part of the Lineage. Of the three females, two were barren and the third had two offspring, one became Lady Grey and her family still brews the most wonderful tea, even if it is now under the auspices of the good Earl Nosegay."

Chip doodled idly with his hoof, running a small piece of charcoal on the parchment. Nothing he had been taught so far had been useful. He suspected that Briar Patch hated him. To tell the truth, he suspected that Briar Patch hated everyone and everything. The biggest reason for this monumental dislike was that Chip was Baron Irontail, and a colt rather than a filly. Briar Patch was a traditionalist. Stallions saw to making babies, fighting for dominance and the chance to make said babies, and very little else. It was a mare's job to run the Family Business. The fact that he, Chip, had inherited the auspicious Irontail name was an insult to all things right and true.

"Wait, wait," Chip said, yawning and trying to make it look like he was concentrating really hard, "you said that females inherited the name, right?"

"Indeed, young master Irontail."

"Wasn't my aunt the older sibling?"

"Indeed, but blood lineage is more important than sex, albeit it modern to ignore even the birthright of the rightful heiresses, the mares of the family."

"So... uncle Pyrite said something about that. His wife..."

Briar Patch narrowed his eyes at Chip, "Rightfully, his lordship should be speaking to you of such things..."

"Humour me, as Baron Irontail."

Briar Patch set his jaw and chewed his tongue thoughtfully, "Very well. Your Aunt Anthracite Irontail was the duly designated heiress, set to continue your family's noble name. When she died, she left no heir of her own, dying as she did in childbirth. Her foal was... stillborn. Upon this happenstance, title was transferred to your father, who had been in truth running the Neighvada sites. From your father, it passed down to you."

"So... if Aunt Anthracite's foal had lived, he would have been Baron Irontail?"

"Baroness Anthracite was the older sibling, and a mare. It could have gone no other way."

"So was... uncle Pyrite..?"

Briar Patch nodded, slowly, "For a time, he was Baron Irontail, just as you now are, but it was a gesture only. With no heir apparent, the law was simple and strict. Freepony Pyrite is now but an honorary lord only."

Chip shivered. Baron Irontail, living under the protection of the ex-Baron Irontail. Thank Celestia his uncle was the good sort, if a little strange...

♦♦♦

"Vanished." Pyrite said, softly. He half-turned away from the three strange little ponies, then flung himself towards them and slammed his hooves into the rocky ground, "What do you mean, vanished?" he hissed. His powerful stomp echoed seemingly forever, the cavern was large but Pyrite's anger was larger.

The yellow pegasus shied away, her twinkling jeweled eyes showing fear.

"A dragon doesn't simply vanish! According to those reprobates you force me to deal with, this missing dragonling supposedly has the map, as such it is imperative you find him! It's a dirty great dragon! How can you lose an entire dragon?"

"It just... vanished, master. It killed one of your dog-trolls that was sent to apprehend it and then disappeared nigh a week ago with his sire, who has since returned."

"I WANT THAT MAP!" Pyrite shouted, spraying his minions with flecks of foamy spittle. All three shied away at Pyrite's maddened words, which echoed through the vast cavern once more. Pyrite breathed heavily, the stuffy air irritated his lungs, and the wretched beasts irritated his sensibilities. "That map rightfully belongs to me as everything at the dig-site should rightfully belong to me! Without that map, everything I have worked for becomes worthless! If my estate is worthless, you are worthless."

"Forgive me, master, but..." the yellow pegasus said. She whimpered when he turned to her, but spoke up, "can the heir not tell you where the map is?"

"Oh, my jewel-eyed simpleton, that fop of a foal knows less than nothing, that much is clear. All he is good for are the deeds to his family's properties, and they will be mine in time as his duly-appointed guardian. Turning the child's head will be foals' play. It is the map that I need, the map that his parents found, the map that I thought you idiots had said was with his parents! Do you know how much those diamond dogs asked for in bribes to bring that mine down? Do you?" Pyrite glared, and the gaze of each of the gem-eyed miner ponies dropped. "I thought not. Never mind... what have you found for me on this Sharphoof, the pegasus?"

"He... he too has vanished. Our contacts cannot find him. He is not at Tacksworn, he is not at Neighvada. Nopony saw him return, nopony remembers him leave. Nopony by that name lives there... perhaps if you could furnish us with a better description-." This time it was the blue jewel-eyed earth-pony that spoke, in the same soft sibilant whisper of his brethren.

"Remind me," growled Pyrite with a sigh, placing his hoof on his muzzle and rubbing between his eyes, "what I pay you for? No, wait, shut up, I don't care. Get out of my sight. Search again, leave no stone unturned or so help me I will have your bones for my dogs and your hides for my furniture! Would you have me raze an entire village for a piece of parchment? Move! Get me my map!"

Pyrite watched angrily as the strange, gem-eyed ponies fled. It was only after they'd gone and the cavern was once again beyond pitch black that he remembered he'd moved away from the path back up.

Well shit.

♦♦♦

Chip was tired, lessons had been horribly, horribly boring and had dragged on and on. Finally, that old fart Briar Patch had let them go. Sunshine had fled before he could give them homework - homework from a private tutor! Ridiculous! - and Chip had headed back through the mansion to find the box that held his training spikes. He avoided the help, sneaking into the kitchen and down the stairs when nopony was looking.

The basement was deserted, so Chip sneaked into the strange little vault-like room, packed away the armor pieces and picked up the box in his muzzle. He froze when he heard voices... no, a voice, singular.

"Useless gem-eyed freaks..."

It was Pyrite, where was he? What was he talking about? Chip moved towards the door of the vault and gently nudged the door further open.

"What's that? Who's there?"

Chip retreated back into the vault instinctively at Pyrites raised and somewhat-angry sounding voice. Sure enough, his hooves clattering on the wooden-covered floor, Pyrite poked his nose into the vault-room. Chip was about to speak up when Pyrite's gaze swept over him... and carried on. He opened his muzzle to talk, nearly dropped the box and then shut it again. Moments later, Pyrite's head withdrew. He didn't even close the door.

That's odd, thought Chip, and walked slowly out of the vault, following Pyrite. As the silvery-gold stallion lead the way through the mansion, Chip kept expecting him to turn around and ask him why he was following him, but Pyrite never did.

It's almost like I'm invisible, Chip thought to himself. He cocked his head as he walked, he wasn't exactly trying to be stealthy but whatever this was, he was intrigued to see how far it would go.

"That foal's mine now, I'll have to take care of him." Pyrite mumbled to himself. Chip brightened, despite being odd, Pyrite did care... maybe the stallion would even learn to love him? "I mean that damned foal Sharphoof left him with me, just dumped him here. What sort of guardian does that? That suits me just fine though, accidents happen after all, eh? Now where is the boy... He's got his medicine to take. Chip? Chip!" Pyrite started calling Chip's name, almost trotting through the first floor hallway where Chip's bedroom was. The door was unlocked, Pyrite trotted in and cantered around in a circle, "Where is that delinquent brat."

That's not very nice, Chip thought to himself as he followed the older stallion in. He stood in the center of the room and Pyrite ignored him in his search. Finally Pyrite swore and stormed out. Chip shook his head. This was weird. Chip put the box down and kicked it under the bed, before exiting the room. Had there been something in that little room? Or something in the basement? Had he touched something? He'd heard of some magic plants that could do weird things like that, but he'd never been sure if he'd believed it. Chip resolved to see if anything would break the spell, or if he was doomed to wander like a ghost forever. Maybe that was it, maybe he was a ghost! He... he didn't feel like a ghost... did he?

"Pyrite! Uncle Pyrite!" Chip yelled, clattering his hooves around on the floor until he burst through his bedroom door and barrelled after the older stallion. Pyrite didn't seem to hear him at first, but when Chip all but crashed into him and the pair went flying, Pyrite first started shouting and then broke into a wide smile, "Hey! Chip! Where've you been, kiddo? I've been looking all over for ya! You're late for supper! Come on, it'll be cold! Get!"

"Yessir... dad." Chip tried.

Pyrite stopped in his tracks, "We're... we're not ready for that quite yet, Chip."

Chip hung his head, cheeks burning. He'd thought...

"You can call me Unc though, if you want."

"'Unc'? That sounds kinda silly."

"S'up to you, but it's time to get down to supper. Follow me."

Chip sat at the table, half hurt and half hopeful. Pyrite wanted to take care of him, to look after him... so what if he didn't want to be called dad yet? It was only a... a token, right? Sharptooth had let him call him Dad...

Yeah, but Sharptooth abandoned me here! Chip thought to himself, What if Sharptooth really doesn't want me? What if he thinks I should be with Uncle Pyrite? He's a pony, after all, not a dragon like Sharptooth. Why would I want to be a dragon? I'm not a dragon, am I? I'm a pony. Four hooves, no wings, no claws...

"Like the food, kiddo?"

"It's... nice." Chip said, choking on the sudden question, at lunch the stallion had shushed him when he'd tried to talk. Maybe lunch was more formal?

Pyrite nodded at the glass of milk, "Drink up, it'll do you a world of good. It's healthy."

Chip scowled at the milk. Drink that? Like he was some foal? Again? Chip rolled his eyes. Drinking milk like some foal wasn't such a big deal, he guessed, just as long as the weirdo didn't try to bottle-feed it to him or something. Honestly! A pony his size, drinking milk! He upended the glass and drank it. Milk smelled weird, now. He finished it, and burped.

"Manners!"

"It's... sorry." Chip wiped his muzzle, with a napkin. He'd miss that part of being a dragon, at least. Chip yawned. His plate was empty, the room swam and he felt kind of hot. Maybe he was tired.

"It's alright, kiddo. Hey are you feelin' okay there? You look a little... peaky." Pyrite had got up at the first sign of Chip's discomfort.

"I'm fine..." Chip hiccuped, "totally fine."

"You don't look it. I think you've fallen ill, lad. It'll be the stress and the trip, can do that to a colt like you. You should head to bed, okay?"

"Okay," Chip said, dully. He got up, staggering slightly, yawning again. Gosh, he really was tired. Chip started to walk out of the dining room, and suddenly Pyrite was there, holding him up.

"Ooops-a-daisy, Chippy my lad, you almost went over. This way... come on... can't have you passing out in the hallway."

Chip was led haltingly out of the dining room, up the stairs, and set into the bed. Chip lay in the large, soft bed as he heard the snick of the lock being turned. He was locked in, again! Chip struggled to get out of the bed, feeling like he was crawling halfway up the walls instead of across the floor. The world spun, strange lights and visions danced before his eyes, his head hurt. What on Equestria had come over him, and so quickly? Only a few hoof-lengths across the mat towards the door, he gave up. He had to be sick. He resolved to just... oh no. The bed was too high. He couldn't stand, he could barely crawl let alone pull his body upright. He whimpered, he just wanted to sleep! He wanted to hide, to rest!

He rolled his body heavily across the floor, pulled off the day-comforter and wrapped it around himself. He just wanted to get somewhere he felt safe. He'd felt safe in Sharptooth's embrace, under those wings. He sniffled, and pulled himself under the bed. He wrapped the blanket around himself awkwardly again and arranged it as a partial pillow on top of the black box that Sharptooth had given him.

He was like a dragon again, he guessed, a hatchling maybe. He felt weak enough. He hugged the black leather box to his body and tried to relax as muscle spasms wracked his frame. He felt like a grandpony, ancient and doddering. He laughed, but it hurt to breathe, so he concentrated on not coughing.

Dimly, he heard the lock undo and Pyrite - or some other pony - walk in. The pony shouted something several times, a name, and dropped something down on the floor. It fluttered under the bed, towards Chip. He could just make out one word... peep?

"Where in the nine realms has that brat gone? I leave him ruddy well locked in here for five minutes and he's gone! It's not possible! Oh, dammit!"

Pyrite bent down, the damned deed documentation that the stupid foal just had to sign had gone under the bed. He bent down, the bed was high off the ground, and he could see it easily. He reached out a hoof and pulled it out. He'd half expected that idiot Chip to be under the bed, hiding, but nothing was there. Nothing was there at all. He stormed out.

Chip shook, he was really starting to feel terrible. He was alternately hot and cold, the room spun, nothing made sense... but one thing stood out. Pyrite hadn't seen him again.

♦♦♦

Chip woke up with a start, coughing. He felt queasy and his head was pounding, the floor in front of him was no longer fluffy and neat but hard and tacky. He must have thrown up some time in the night, but he felt much better now. For starters, he could think halfway straight. He felt like he'd been put through a mangle, but seemed to be in one piece. He was also under the bed. That was odd. He didn't really remember going to bed the previous night... dimly, memories returned. What in Equestria had it been? That was the weirdest illness ever... it had to be a stomach bug, those things went through a pony like a dose of the salts.

Pyrite had to be going frantic.

Chip heaved himself out and up, staggering slightly. The sudden increase in altitude made him see stars, just like he'd seen in whatever delirium had assaulted him. He eased himself to the bathroom, leaning on the walls and catching his breath every few steps. His headache was fading as he started moving and he felt better and better by the moment. Washing his mouth out and using the facilities, he felt refreshed. Not completey one hundred percent, but maybe eighty. He took one last look at his muzzle before clomping downstairs to the dining room. When he opened the door, he was greeted with the astonishing sight of almost all of the available help from the mansion standing around the table not with breakfast but with a bunch of maps of the house, estate and city in front of them. They were pointing at likely places to look for somepony, with red circles and crosses.

"What's up, guys? Am I late for breakfast? I mean I don't have a clock or-"

"Chip? By the pale mare, Chip! Where in the nine realms were you?" Silver Chalice spoke up, speaking even above Pyrite, a warmth in his voice that had been absent before.

"I was..."

"We looked everywhere! Nopony could find you! We thought you might have run out into the city or something!"

"No, I was..."

"Kiddo, you gave us quite the scare! How do you feel? Last I saw you were lookin' pretty poorly!" Pyrite strode forwards, putting a hoof on the young colt's brow to feel for a temperature.

"Must've been a stomach bug or something, Unc. I'm alright now."

"Where were you?"

"In my room..." Chip didn't add under the bed, he didn't want any pony feeling stupid for having missed him there. It was a foalish place to hide, but... he'd wanted to feel safe.

"Horseapples!" swore Pyrite, "I looked under there... when I went searching for you, I mean."

A hazy memory returned to Chip... Pyrite with a strange expression on his muzzle, looking under the bed for a piece of paper, finding it, utterly failing to register that it was leaning on Chip, wrapped up in a blanket. Chip shook his head, it was one of the only clear memories he had of the previous night, but it made no sense at all! He opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

"Well!" Pyrite grinned, nervously, "Time we all just... relaxed, then. Relaxed and had breakfast, right?"

Pyrite clopped his hooves together, waving at the table. It was cleared in short order, and the staff of the mansion disappeared to whip up something to eat. Pyrite sat at the table, grinning slightly. He seemed nervous still. Chip wondered if he had just been worried.

"So..." Pyrite began, "you... feel alright today?"

"Yup. I was wondering-"

"Not... ill at all?"

"No, not any more."

"Good, good." Pyrite leaned back, sitting on his haunches, staring at Chip with a strange expression on his muzzle. "You... really did give me a scare, you know. You should... you should give me power of attorney, just in case you have a relapse or something..." Pyrite grinned, like he was only half-serious, but something in his voice put the lie to that expression.

"Power of what?" Chip's ears swivelled upwards. The memory of a piece of paper with a certain four-letter word written on it floated in his mind.

"Attorney, it means I'm allowed to... look after your- you. Look after your things. Look, it's just a precaution, you're here now and-"

"Were you really worried?"

"I was worried all night long, Chip me lad!"

Chip looked down at his hooves, "Well, I don't know... I should ask Sharptooth."

"That... pegasus?"

"Dragon. The one I stayed with."

Pyrite's eyes unfocused for a second, "Oh. Oh, him. I don't think he wants to hear from you any more. He dumped you, didn't he?"

"He d-did not!" Chip set his jaw.

"Woah, woah, hey, calm down kiddo! How about you write to him, then, ask him what he thinks? It's just a precaution, ya know."

"Well... alright, but later. I just want to eat some breakfast."

Pyrite considered, "How about, no lessons today. You just go... explore, but stay out of the basement, there's a lot of stuff down there, you could get hurt. I have a trip into town to make."

The breakfast was uneventful, but the awkward silence was palpable. Eventually, Pyrite excused himself and left. Chip looked down at his plate. He felt better with some food in his belly. He snorted though, only water to drink, no milk.

♦♦♦