Short stories about ponies and whatnot

by shutaro

Play the ball, not the pony

The baseball slowly turned in the magical hold of the white unicorn. From time to time the stallion took the ball in his hooves, turned it over and sighed. Rarity watched her father sit on the jetty from her room, but she didn’t know what to make of all this. The last month had been so hectic with the birth of her little sister and her first ever real argument with her mother.

This was all Sweetie Belle’s fault somehow! Her mother was sleepy and cranky all the time, her father was sad now, and she had been grounded last week. Rarity looked at her room’s door. She was allowed to go outside again today, but now she didn’t want to anymore. She wasn’t sulking, she just didn’t want to go outside. She turned back to the window and stared out again. Her father was still there with his ball, and looking at him actually made her feel worse. This wouldn’t stand! There was only room for one sulking pony in this house, and nopony was going to outsulk Rarity today. Even if she totally wasn’t sulking at all!

Rarity slowly made her way down from the second floor, avoiding all the creaky floorboards and even managed to sneak past her little sister and mother, who slept next to each other in the living room. Opening and closing the front door behind her, Rarity stepped outside and walked over to the jetty in front of the family’s house. She was still in sneaky mode, and as she sat down next to her father he almost dropped the baseball into the lake.

“Wow, Princess! You gave me a heart attack here!” He took a deep breath. “But nice to see you outside. Have you talked to your mother?”

Rarity raised an eyebrow and looked at him with what she thought was a sneer; her father just found it adorable. “Mom’s sleeping with Sweetie in the living room. If I had met mom you would have heard it. Why are you sitting out here? Did you argue with mom too?”

Her father looked at her, the baseball and her again. “No, no, princess. I was just … thinking. You know, grown up stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Didn’t you listen to mom, dad? I’m supposed to grow up and be a big sister now. She was pretty loud about it.”

Her father gave her a thoughtful gaze, then he said “Do you remember your birthday two years ago? When you wanted the ‘Princess Celestia with chambermaids’ playset, but we got you ‘Princess Celestia and her guard’?”

Rarity tapped her hoof on the boards. “So you’re unhappy because Sweetie Belle didn’t come with a set of dresses but a stallion in armor? But it all worked out in the end because now you can play romantic knight-and-maid with your friends?” she tried to understand the situation.

Father and daughter looked at each other. The one doubting her father's understanding of the subtle but crucial details of society in elementary school, and the other wondering when his daughter had grown up so fast. “Not quite,” he tried to find a way out of the situation without touching upon romantic knights and maids again. “You see, when I was a colt, my father, your grandfather, would play catch with me every weekend. And we always used this ball.” He offered the ball to Rarity, and she could make out the scorch marks from untrained levitation-magic on it. “I had hoped I could one day play catch with a colt of my own with this very ball. But, well, you’re a filly, and Sweetie Belle, too. Which is fine, but, well —”

Rarity mulled that information over in her head. “So, you’re unhappy because you can’t play the game you wanted to play, but it’s not bad because we can play other games?” She looked over the lake. “You know dad, if you’d like, I could play catch with with you,” Rarity offered.

Her father looked at her with a smile. Then he ruffled her hair a bit which only got him an annoyed “Daaad!” from his daughter. “That’s very nice of you, my little big Princess,” he said. “How about we do that once Sweetie sleeps for longer than a few hours?” On cue they could hear the little filly’s wail from the house. “But now I have to help your mother. Do you think you can help me help her? Without too much shouting?”

Rarity gave an exaggerated sigh. “Do I have a choice? She is my little sister, after all.”

“That’s my girl!” her father said and tossed the baseball over to Rarity. She caught it with her magic and threw it back. Together they walked back into the the house.

Author's Note:

Whoever came up with Magnum as the name of Rarity's dad should be given an award for not-being-creative. I think it's even worse than Fleur de Lis.

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The Prompt: Daddy’s little girl.

Comments

[Twilightsparklefairy]

umm

which only got him an annoyed “Daaad!” from his daughter.

I can imagine more