One.
Father and Daughter
It was a warm, sunny day. The crisp scent of the lingering morning dew clung to the air. The trees were beginning to fill their branches with their leaves. Birdsong added to the tranquility. There was very little in the land to indicate any semblance of civilization, save for a singular cottage at the end of a thin dirt path. A tiny cottage was nestled halfway up a rolling hill. Behind the cottage, on the other side of the hill, was a garden. A path from the home rounded the hill leading to it. Neat, furrowed rows had been planted. Stakes at each end bore signs telling any who bothered to read what vegetable was planted. Sprouts were visible.
On top of the hill was an ancient oak tree. Its branches sprawled over the roof and a great deal of the hill’s slopes fell beneath its shade. Somewhere, buried beneath a layer of thick canopy, was a tree house, tiny within the massive splendor of the great tree.
The cottage itself was unspectacular. It was sturdy, made of stone and timber. The roof was thatched and a thin plume of smoke drifted from the chimney. The front of the home sported an arched door with round windows on either side of it. They were both open, the panes having been swung inwards. Beneath the sills for each was a flower basket already bursting with spring blooms.
Such was spring in the land of Equestria, a peaceful scene not uncommon throughout.
What was not common, however, were the figures kneeling at the base of the oak tree. The creature was not like the denizens of Equestria, the ponies, but rather reluctant visitors with no means to return to whence they had come. One was larger than the other, dressed in a cotton shirt with sleeves rolled up above his elbows. His jeans were worn but well cared for and clean. Sandals made from hemp adorned his feet. A shaggy mane of ebony hair fell around his face. A short, stubby black beard touched with gray covered a jawline blemished with scars on his left side. His nose spoke of tales of breaking several times over the years and angled to the left a touch. His hands were gnarled from a lifetime of hard use, his fingers thick and scarred. Many had shared the same fate as the nose. Weary dark brown eyes stared down at something at the base of the oak tree. One hand fell upon a small headstone while the other was held by the other figure.
Next to him was a child, his daughter. A blue shirt of woven cotton, several sizes too big, wore on her like a knee-length dress. A smartly knitted hemp belt snugged tightly around her waist. She bore his likeness, the differences subtle. Where his appearance was considered harsh and intimidating, the daughter was warm, open, and filled with innocence. Her green eyes were bright and full of wonder for the world around her. Dark waist-length hair was in a single braid and draped over a slender shoulder. Her expression was somber, looking up to her father as a small hand fell upon the back of his in comfort. Worrisome lines knitted her brows.
“The flowers,” he spoke, giving the girl a gentle squeeze of her hand.
Without a word, she complied. She had spent the morning picking them in the fields at her father’s request. The bouquet had been wrapped with a bit of silk string tied into a bow. Her father helped to straighten them out, arranging them so the display would feel both vibrant and humble, for such had been the one being remembered.
“I miss you,” voiced the father in simple, honest words.
He rose to his feet. Towering above the simple gravestone, a sad smile graced his grizzled face before he turned and began walking away.
What had Mother been like?
A lot like you.
Was she pretty?
Very much so.
Do you miss her?
Every moment I breathe.
I’m sorry, Father.
Don’t be. I have you to remind me how special your mother was to me. Without her, I wouldn’t have a wonderful daughter like you. Don’t you ever forget that.
“We’re heading into town,” he called out in his usual gruff voice. “Finish paying your respects. I’ll wait until you are done.”
“Okay...”
When he was out of earshot, the girl looked at the stone. “Father’s lonely,” she said to her mother. It was not hard to imagine her mother was listening. Father always said she was listening all the time and would always watch over her.
She rose to her bare feet and hurried after her father, but not before throwing a smile at her mother’s resting place. “Happy birthday, Mother,” she chirped as a sensation of wanting clutched her heart.
He had the wagon ready. He looked it over while he waited. It had been originally designed to be pulled by a pony, but it had been bought and modified to his stature. Repairs had been conducted just a week before, but a new axle was needed, as well as a new spring or two. It was a worn thing, really, but well cared for. There was no want for bits. Rather, it was a sense of self-reliance, combined with stubborn pride, which prevented the purchase of something newer. The wagon was certainly older than the man, he was certain. It served its purpose for hauling things and was manageable. Hand brakes had been fitted to the handle. The two wheels rolled for the moment, and no longer squeaked. There was even a custom made harness that went over his shoulders and was easy to slip in and out of.
A familiar form grasped at his left leg. Instinctively, an arm reached down and gave a gruff hug to the one grinning up at him from his hip.
“Get in,” the father said, “we’ll get something to eat when we get to town. Did you remember to grab the list off the table?”
“Yes,” she replied as she climbed into the wagon. She pulled it out from a pouch hanging from her belt and waved it at him. He took it and gave a once over before folding the paper up and placing it in a breast pocket.
With a nod and a grunt, the man threw on the harness and gripped the handles of the wagon. His sandaled feet broke into long strides, and they were on their way.
The trek down the hill was not so bad, daring to be pleasant. Already the ground was beginning to dry out, though there were still puddles on the path. The day was still warming as the sun approached its zenith. It would take an hour to walk into Berryville. During this time, the girl hummed to herself as she rode in the wagon. It was not long before boredom set in.
“Do you see them?” Father said over his shoulder in a soft voice. “The cloud up to our left.”
“Who?” She stood in the wagon, her hands gripping the top of a sidewall. Looking up, her eyes scanned the blue skies. There were a few clouds and her orbs locked on one. It stood out because there were a pair of ponies using it to sit on. Specifically pegasi. “Oh! They’re not from around here, are they, Father?”
“No, they are not,” he replied, his steps unabated.
“Are they spies?”
“Hardly.”
“Why are they watching us?”
“They are reporters.” The man rolled his shoulders. “Ignore them.”
“What’s wrong with reporters?”
“They ask questions, June.”
“I ask lots of questions all the time.”
“You are eight. You are expected to ask questions.” Father’s patience seemed infinite. His steps never faltered and the wagon rolled on.
The ponies seemed to be arguing with each other. There was a lot of pushing and shoving between the two. Finally, one of them jumped from the cloud and dropped towards them. He had a gray coat and white mane and tail. A camera hung from his neck and he was already taking pictures. The second pony was right behind him, a mare. She bore a lighter shade in her coat compared to her companion and her mane was darker.
“Good afternoon, sir!” called out the stallion as he landed. The camera continued to snap away. “Picture Perfect, Canterlot Times. A pleasure to meet you!” His smile was unnaturally large, and perhaps a touch nervous. “As I live and breathe! Jakob, the Unspoken Legend himself! The Slayer of Tirek. Conqueror of Changelings. Celestia’s Unbreakable Hammer. The Pride of War.”
“Go away,” growled the man. “I am busy.”
The stallion continued to take pictures. “Oh, come on, now. Just a few questions. A few photographs? I have readers that would absolutely love to hear about your exploits during the war! I did some digging, and boy are you a remarkable fellow! Simply remarkable! Is it true you killed a dragon with no help?”
“Father?” June blinked and gave him an unsure look. She found a sidelong glance from over his shoulder given in return and a slight and worried frown.
Picture Perfect’s attention shifted to the girl in the wagon. “You must be young June. You look a lot like your mother. She’s a hero in the hearts of many ponies. Did you know that? Loved by so many! Please accept my condolences for your loss. This day would have been her birthday, if I am not mistaken?”
“Enough,” Jakob barked, “No more questions. You are invading our privacy and you are making my daughter uncomfortable. Leave us.”
By now the second pony landed behind the first. “Picture, stop harassing them!” before shifting to trot alongside the man. “Please forgive my brother. He’s been obsessed with getting your story since you left Canterlot all those years ago. I am Truth Written. My brother and I have worked together at being the best at what we do!”
“Obsessions are unhealthy and shouldn’t be the best thing to be at,” retorted the human with a grunt. His pace continued, unabated. “I recommend sticking to reporting on the stories that matter.”
“Oh, but you do matter, Sir Jakob! The public demand for your story and how you have been doing over the past eight years has grown! Lady Kaga’s story was one of loyalty, love and enduring friendship! But, sadly, she is no longer with us... However, you are!” chattered on Truth, as casual as can be.
“My story ended as soon as the war did. You have your Elements. I cherish two things; privacy, and raising my daughter. I am not interested in telling stories. I am not interested in giving an interview, and I most certainly did not give permission for our picture to be taken.” The wheels rolled along the slightly rutted road.
“The Bearers are old news,” Truth Written said with a shrug, “nopony these days cares about an apple farmer, an animal lover, a fashion designer, a washed out Wonderbolt wanna-be, or an insane party planner.” She then hummed, “Princess Twilight is well, a princess, so that makes her neigh untouchable.”
Jakob slowed a step. “What do you mean? What happened to Rainbow Dash?”
Truth Written’s hopes went up in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Oh, you didn’t know? She got herself knocked up five years ago and had twins. Ended her Wonderbolt career before it even got started. Very sad.”
Scowling at the mare, Jakob rumbled, “Having a family shouldn’t be held against any one, even if the child was unexpected.” His pace quickened.
“Foal, and in this case, in the plural,” corrected the reporter. Her brother was still taking pictures. “And don’t worry about Miss Dash. I do believe she married and moved on to Cloudsdale. Very happy for her, even if I admit to being a former fan. Can I quote you on that?”
“No.”
Truth’s smile faded.
“Oh, come now,” Picture Perfect lamented. His voice grew louder and louder as he made his demands, “ponies are dying to know more about you! They deserve to know about you! They have a right to know all about you!”
“Father?” June whimpered, lowering herself into the wagon.
‘Shh, Little One, I am here. Your father is doing a terrible job of chasing away the riffraff.’
June knew that voice in her head and was already swiveling her eyes as she sought out the owner of that voice.
“It’s about time,” muttered Jakob, smirking through his beard.
A shadowy form landed with a great deal of flamboyant display. It was a tall figure, vaguely equine, with long, slender legs. Great wings like those of a dragonfly’s buzzed the air, a rainbow of color churning through the air. It was armored in glossy chitin shimmering golds and greens beneath the sun. A spiral horn stabbed at the air, its point gleaming as though hungering for a throat to pierce. Although nowhere near as impressive in size compared to Jakob, the newcomer had the effect of morphing surprised expressions to those of abject horror.
“Good afternoon, Jakob,” drawled the newcomer as her wings came to a rest, sweeping over her flanks. A mane of shimmering gold and copper shook as draconian eyes of cold sapphire fell upon the now terrified reporters.
Picture Perfect stabbed a hoof at her. “Changeling!”
Quirking a brow, she made a dismissive gesture in turn. “Pony, I am a changeling queen.” Back to Jakob, she said, “Would you like for me to remove these two from your presence?”
“Why is there a changeling here?” demanded Truth Written.
“That,” snorted the changeling, “is classified. And I am a queen. Weren’t you paying attention? If you wish to know more, please submit a request to Princess Celestia at Canterlot. I can assure you, not only is my presence here legal, but necessary.” A predatory smile had grown across her muzzle. A pair of long, sharp fangs gleamed ivory white in the light of the day.
“Necessary?” Truth dared to ask in the form of a squeak.
Picture Perfect was still taking photographs.
“You ran out of film,” supplied the changeling helpfully, “about twenty clicks ago. Nosy little ponies like the two of you are what makes my presence here necessary.”
Jakob continued to walk. He had a schedule to keep. “Cassandra, don’t waste time with them.” The wagon followed along without a squeaky complaint. “Just chase them off and stay within the limits set for you in the accords.”
“Yes, master,” came the sarcastic reply. Cassandra refocused her gaze upon the pair of pegasi. “Shoo,” she said, “or I will get the biggest newspaper I can find, roll it up, turn it sideways, and stick it up both your pony plot holes!”
“Cassy?” June was staring at the changeling.
The dire expression shifted magically to one of pure joy when the changeling’s eyes found the girl. “Hello June. Give me a moment to deal with these two, okay? Now where was I?” Her head swiveled with deliberate slowness towards the ponies on the verge of bolting. “Ah, yes. Newspaper up the plot hole. Sunday edition.”
A vacuum of air was all that was left of the space formerly occupied by the pair of reporters.
“Worked like a charm!” chortled Cassidy, her wings buzzing in her violent delight. “Now then, I do apologize about not doing something about those two earlier, Jakob. I caught wind of something else a touch more important in town.” Her hooves carried her to the side of the wagon, which had never ceased rolling. Stretching her neck out, she gave June a nuzzle. “Why are you wearing your mother’s shirt, child?”
“I asked Father if I could,” replied the girl. “He said I could.”
“Well, you look absolutely adorable in it!”
“What is in town?” Jakob asked as he adjusted the harness. “More reporters? I guess a day like this would make sense for them.”
“No, not reporters,” Cassandra shook her head as she assumed a slow trot. The man had a long stride, and she had to adapt to his pace. “Something worse.” A slow grin was beginning to spread over her muzzle.
“An alicorn?” sighed the man.
“No, it’s no—” Cassidy did a double take, “—how did you know?”
The wagon came to a sudden stop. The man rolled his neck, angling his face to the heavens and letting out a long-suffering sigh. His hands released their grip on the wagon as he spread his arms wide. “Why me?” he implored the uncaring blue and cheerful sky.
“I know how you feel about them,” the changeling went on, “but—”
“Which one?” he interrupted, his arms falling limp to his sides.
“I’ve only met Celestia, so I can tell you it’s not her.”
“Are you okay, Father?” June asked from the wagon.
Cassidy gave a toothy grin. “Oh, he’s fine. He might be grouchy for a while, but he’ll be fine.”
“But Father is always grouchy.”
“Well, that is not entirely true. You see, June, there is a difference between being a grump or a grouch.”
“Do you have to be like this?” Jakob asked with a growl.
“Like what?” asked the changeling with feigned innocence.
“Insufferable.”
She hummed for a moment and gave his observation a bit of thought. “Yes.” There was a pause long enough to allow the man to give her a sidelong glance. “You know, Jakob, I’ve always found it fascinating how Kaga could gather so many friends so easily and win the hearts and minds of all who fell in her line of sight only to find she settled on choosing a bore like you as a mate.”
“That makes two of us,” agreed the man. “This discussion is over. You have done your duty, bug horse. Go away.”
“June, dear,” Cassidy slowed enough so she could converse with the girl. “You have got to be the most resilient child I have ever known. You have to live with that.” She tossed her head in the man’s general direction.
June pouted. “I wish you would be nicer to Father.”
The changeling threw her head back and let out a loud belly laugh. “I am being nice to your Father!” she hooted. Her wings buzzed and she began to lift into the sky. “I’m off to pay my respects to Kaga. You two have a lovely afternoon and be sure to say hello to the alicorn. I’m fairly certain she’s here to see you.”
June waved at her, “Bye, Cassy! I love you!”
The queen d’aawed and gave the girl a wink. “I know. Keep an eye on your father and keep him out of trouble!” A pause followed, and then she added, “Thanks for the snack!” and darted off into the wild blue yonder.
There was a long moment of silence as the wagon was pulled along the dirt road. June knew Cassidy well enough to know there was an odd friendship between her and Jakob. The changeling was fond of the girl and June reciprocated the affection. How or why the changeling queen shared the countryside had always been a mystery. Cassidy would speak of keeping a promise if asked and would say no more on the matter.
Still, there was more of a reason to be excited about visiting Berryville. She had never seen an alicorn before! Father had said when she was a baby all the alicorns had taken turns holding her. He had told her the story once last Heartswarming Night. After telling it, he had become quiet, his eyes distant.
“Father?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you upset?”
“Upset? No. Annoyed? Very much so.”
“Was it the reporters?”
“Partially. I am not looking forward to meeting the alicorn, whoever she is.”
“Are alicorns bad?”
“No, June, they are not. They are mostly fair and kind.” Jakob’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, “I have had many disagreements with them. They made decisions I did not agree with. One of the consequences of their decisions was the loss of your mother.”
Hearing this saddened the little girl. “Oh.”
“That being said,” Jakob went on as he let out a slow breath, “not all the choices I made back then were wise. There has been much I have reflected on over the years. June, I am not perfect. All living things are flawed. You. Me. The ponies. All living things are imperfect. Life is best that way. I am the way I am because of choices I have made as well as the choices others have made for me. I have been wrong many times. If we were perfect, then we would not be able to grow.”
June knew Father was trying to say something important. She had an inkling of what he was trying to say and knew he was having a hard time even getting it out. The way the words came out seemed like each one was a struggle, but he was determined to say what was on his mind.
He slowed his pace and regarded her with an eye over his shoulder. “I do not want you to hate the alicorns. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father,” she answered.
He nodded once. “Good.”
They passed a small road sign that simply read, ‘Welcome to Berryville!’.
Stats
Page generated in 0.021 seconds
Total duration
744 users online
664,309 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
All will hate me, (justly so) but I have to do it to em... FIRST!
Edit: Also, seems like a good start. Glad to see you writing!
10293223
Thank you!
And don't worry, I don't think all will hate you.
Most of them will, but not all. That's just silly.
10293223 Actually, I was first. Booom.
The zog they do, idiocy like that is why I loathe reporters. Where did that sanctimonious presumption ever come from anyway?
This is shaping up to be a wonderful story, I love characters like Jakob.
10293728
Amen to that. I don't need to know what the local celebrity had for lunch today nor do I need to know what the turd looked like. Let people have their privacy.
10293240
No, actually Han was first, when he shot Greedo! Blam!
So is the changing queens name Cassandra or Cassidy?
10294570
Cassidy is actually a shortened version of Cassandra. Both can be tied to the same character. I want readers to know her full name and the name she is actually referred to.
Well, I despise Alicorns. Always meddling where they are not needed, so many lives lost due to foolish naivete and shortnightedness.
Two thirds of my army dead becuase a foolish old mare wished to imprison the immortal necromancer instead of simply killing the infernal creature.
I lost many a good man that day, and knowing a necromancer's tinkering I couldn't bring them back.
Forced peace, forced responsibility, extended ignorance, forced love.
Ai
Despaise
Alicehrns
10294570
Having said that, changes have been made to avoid confusing readers!
You've knocked the first chapter out of the ballpark. Now to see what comes next.
You know how you unwrap a present made by a good friend and are like "Oooh!" And "Aaaah!"? Yeah this feels like that.
June is the cutest name ever.