[Satyr] The Trials of a Pegasus Parent

-R&R 1-

>You admit, it was a surprise when both Rocket and Ratchet came out without wings.
>After several sessions of hyperventilating, Spitfire seemed to be marginally okay with the fact that her babies were not quite what she was expecting.
>The day you brought them home was very exciting.
>Hotshot loomed over the bassinet, somehow entranced by his new little brothers, while the more worldly Ace stood back and smiled.
>Spitfire insisted on 'doing things right' this time, and had put in for some substantial time away from the office.
>She'd even made a little nest for the newest additions before she went to the hospital.
>This, of course, meant you were sleeping alone tonight.
>But she was curled up on the floor with the little monsters, surrounded by pillows, blankets, and old, worn out clothes.
>Well within reach.
>And so you slept.
>Peacefully.
>For the first time in what felt like forever.
>At least until the quiet mutterings of your spouse start ringing in your ears.
>"Rock... no, Ratchet, stop."
>Biting your lip, you try to ignore the sounds.
>But they just keep coming.
>"What- you two need to stop. Please. Stop."
>The strain in her voice is obvious.
>Cracking open an eye, you stare out into the darkness and see Spitfire stretching her wings out along the floor, visibly straining as she tries to pull them back towards her.
>Oh.
>The kids.
"Hey Fireball."
>Your voice is scratchy, but a quick cough ought to clear that up.
>As you do, Spitfire's head jerks towards you.
>"Everything's fine! Go back to sleep!"
>You listen to her grunt and grumble a little as her wings tremble; preventing the two satyrs from moving forward, but unable to reign them back in.
"You sure? You look like you're in a pinch."
>"Everything's fine."
>She repeats, with less gusto this time.
>"They just need to get used to sleeping in the nest."
>Propping your hand on your cheek, you frown.
"Earth ponies don't nest."

>Spitfire goes rigid.
>There's an audible gulp.
>"I-I know that."
>Forcing a smile, she looks over at you.
>"But, I'm sure that they'll learn to love it given the chance. I mean, they're practically pegasus ponies."
>You take a deep breath and stumble out of bed.
>Scooping up the wriggling monsters, you stretch out along the mess of pillows, sheets and clothes, making a full circle around the twins with Spitfire.
>Tapping her cheek twice, you grin.
"Take a breath, we'll figure all this out again; just like we did with Ace."
>The pegasus mare sets her lips into an uncertain line as she bobs her head.
>"Together?"
"Of course."
>"But I'm still in charge, right?"
>Bumping your nose against her snout, you nod.
"I'll follow your lead on this one, Cap."
>She sighs.
>The two of you watch the twins scamper and flop about for a while longer before they exhaust themselves and fall asleep.
>You're not sure if you managed any more shut eye that night.
>But you know Spitfire didn't.


-R&R 2-

>Spitfire stares at the twins.
>They stare back at her, four big eyes the color of fading embers from a campfire
>Feeding wasn't really a problem, satyrs all ate the same regardless of the state of their wings.
>But neither of them were interested in laying down with her.
>No, they wanted to explore.
>How apt that they were R&R, yet intent on giving her none.
>Sötnos said it was normal.
>That's why he'd foal-proofed the second floor.
>But even still, they wobble on uncertain legs to the barrier separating them from the staircase
>And they watch
>For minutes at a time
>Just watching the steps, as though they were about to move.
>Or the guard were to be taken away.
>It won't happen, of course, but it's still unnerving to see your children hovering around the stairs.
>They know something's down there.
>A whole wide world to explore.
>And, for an eager mother, that is perhaps the most unnerving thing.
>So she scoops them up as best she can.
>Cradling them under her wings.
>And she broods.
>They allow her that much at least.
>Until something new catches their interest anyway.
>Then it's off to the races.
>Huffing, she watches as the twins wobble off towards the hall again, muttering to herself.
>"How did he manage this twice?"


-R&R 3-

>Spitfire sits across from the twins.
>They're growing so fast!
>Even though she'd seen Ace and Hotshot every day, it's truly amazing how quickly the two satyrs are growing.
>They've settled down, at least a little bit.
>Ratchet is relatively well behaved, watching intently as the world goes by around him.
>Rocket, not so much.
>He has a tendency to saunter off on his own.
>And then his brother decides to follow.
>But, for the time being, the two of them are quite content to sit and watch her.
>It's quite like nothing she's ever experienced before.
>Her!
>Former Flight Team Leader and present Captain of the Wonderbolts!
>Spitfire shivers as she basks in the warm glow of her sons' eyes.
>"All right my little dears."
>Her voice is cheerful, if somewhat put on.
>"I know that you don't have wings, but that doesn't mean that you can't learn the way we were taught to sing back home."
>Taking a breath, she lets loose a horsey-chirp
>The twins blink in confusion.
>She does it again and they smile.
>Giggle, even.
>Encouraged, Spitfire gives them a nod.
>"Now you."
>There's a momentary pause.
>Ratchet squirms for a moment, looking thoughtful before opening his mouth.
>His mother leans in.
>The boy immediately shuts his lips and rocks forward onto his palms, seemingly engrossed in his fingers for a moment before looking up at her.
>Another moment of fishface and he flops back onto his flank.
>Well, so much for that.
>Rocket however looks as though he's wrestling with it.
>Stretching his jaw a few times, he makes a few babbling grunts.
>Spitfire smiles as a look of intense concentration appears on the boys face.
>His brow furrows.
>His breathing deepens
>He's going to do it!
>He's going to-
>At once a flash of relief slides across the active boy's face.
>He gives a goonish chuckle as a rather wet stench rises up in the room.
>Spitfire sighs.
>In comparison to Pegasi, Earth pony diapers are very dense.


-R&R 4-

>"Okay, we're going to try solid food today!"
>Ratchet gives a toothy grin, only partially understanding as he wobbles in his high chair.
>Rocket is oblivious, banging away at the wooden surface in front of him.
>That's fine.
>Everything's fine.
>Taking a small bag of oaty, delicious, Celesti-O's, Spitfire drops a few pieces of the circular cereal onto Ratchet's chair.
>The banging beside slows to a stop, Rocket now far more interested in staring intently at his brother's snack.
>Chubby fingers struggle with gripping the easily escapable O's, sending them flying to the floor one after another.
>Finally, in a moment of inspiration, Ratchet bends forward and finally gets his prize.
>With a sigh of relief, Spitfire smiles and watches the boy begin to drool his way through the cereal.
>"Uh! Uh!"
>Rocket grunts as he clenches his fingers, begging for the attention of which he is presently deprived.
>Satisfied that Ratchet can figure the rest out for himself, Spitfire pours out a few pieces for Rocket as well.
>He stares at them for a moment, working his mouth in infant confusion.
>Then he lifts a hand
>And brings it down on the platform with a squeal
>The banging resumes in earnest, cereal flying everywhere as he babbles in excitement.
>Spitfire smiles.
>It's fine.
>Everything is fine.


-R&R 5-

>Somewhere along the line, the fact that Ratchet and Rocket didn't have wings became, well, normal.
>Spitfire doesn't even try to nudge them off small platforms anymore.
>In fact, she's smiling more than ever.
>Everything really is fine.
>The kitchen table has become a learning wonderland, scattered with pictures, oversized books, and all manner of crayon scribbles.
>It's pretty cute, even if it is a mess.
>You lean your chest against the back of your chair, watching as your spouse paces across it.
>The twins eyes drift over to you occasionally, but the reality is that their mother dominates their attention.
>She's really become their whole world.
>Just like she wanted.
>"Okay."
>She finally bobs her head towards the boys who sit up at attention at the sound of her voice.
>"Time to show Poppa what you've learned."
>They stare blankly, but as Spitfire smiles and brings a hoof to her chest, you see Rocket grin.
>"Ma-ma."
>Ratchet is quick to echo his brother, holding his vowels a good half beat longer.
>You can't hide your smile, chuckling and shaking your head.
"That's really impressive, hon."
>"I have my ways."
>A flash of that old, hyper-confident smirk.
>"But watch this."
>She extends a hoof to you and says, quiet plainly.
>"Poppa."
>The boys look at her for a moment, slackjawed.
>Ratchet's the first to turn his eyes towards you.
>His lips work awkwardly around the obviously unfamiliar popping sound.
>So he goes with something simpler.
>"Ba. Ba-ba."
>A peppy little tune you haven't thought of in years suddenly comes to mind.
>As Spitfire dotes on her 'brainy boy', you mutter the lines to the Beach Boy's classic under your breath.
>"Okay, now you Rocket. Say Poppa."

>The other half of the dark-haired duo glances at you for a moment.
>Gumming his way around the word, same as his brother, he opens his mouth at last and
>"Phhhhht!"
>Somewhere in the distance, you hear Hotshot howling laugh ring through the house.
>Rocket grins at you, his tongue still hanging out of his mouth as he gives a goonish giggle.
>Spitfire shrugs.
>"It's a work in progress."
"It always is."
>You plant a kiss on her cheek anyway.


-R&R Final-

>Another day in Equestria
>This time out in the wide, wide world.
>Ace walks alongside her mother, the tall girl cradling her twin brothers easily in her arms.
>They mutter and sputter half-words at each other, Rocket dominating the 'conversation' but becoming increasingly flustered at Ratchet's rather curt responses.
>The fiery haired girl giggles, glancing down at her mother.
>"It's hard to believe it's been the better part of a year. Did I grow up this fast?"
>"Mm, honestly it was a bit of a blur."
>Spitfire forces a smile.
>"We were actually up to compete in the Equestria Games that year..."
>"Oh."
>The girl frowns but nods.
>Her mother falls silent, seeing the girl's dour expression.
>It's not as though she can't tell why after all.
>But that doesn't stop the question from coming anyway.
>"Momma?"
>"Hmm?"
>"Do you love the twins more than Hotshot and I?"
>"Oh honey."
>Ace shrinks a little at her mother's unintentional chiding tone, but the mare carries on anyway.
>"Of course not. You're all my beautiful babies, lilla gumman."
>"But Ratchet and Rocket are special, right?"
>The deepening frown on her daughter's face nearly causes Spitfire's heart to break.
>Gritting her teeth, the mare sighs and glances off to the side.
>"Lets get sit down over there and get some oatcakes."
>Ace raises an eyebrow.
>"Poppa wouldn't like me deviating from my eating plan."
>"Yeah, well, your Poppa can deal with me later if he wants."
>Stomping off to the cafe, Spitfire leads her slightly smiling daughter to their table.
>Setting the twins down, the two order and are quickly left to their own devices.

>Spitfire leans her muzzle on one of her hooves
>"I don't want you to take this too hard Ace, but yes; the twins are special."
>"...Oh."
>As the girl sinks into her seat, her mother sighs.
>"Flickering doesn't suit you, Ace."
>"Huh?"
>Spitfire waves her other hoof in the air.
>"Looking so down like that; it isn't right. You're bright, brilliant even, so don't let something like this drag you down. Your shine is part of what makes you special."
>Ace bites her lip, hiding a smile as her mother continues.
>"And Hotshot, for all his bluster and self-confidence, is at his best when he's alongside someone else. He makes everyone around him look spectacular, a top-class coordinator. There's no doubt that you two are our children."
>A heavy silence falls in between the mother-daughter pair, punctuated by the continued babbling of the babies beside them.
>Eventually, Ace asks the question burning in the back of her throat.
>"Momma, you didn't go around behind Poppa's back and-"
>"No!"
>Spitfire's jaw drops as she shakes her head.
>"No, no, never!"
>After a moment, she laughs.
>"I would never do that to your Poppa. But with the twins, it's a little harder to tell that they're, well, mine."
>Turning her eyes to the dark-haired boys, Spitfire's eyes take on a faded, distant quality.
>"I wanted so badly to have another chance at raising a child, to be present more than I was for you, and Shot. I thought that somehow that-"
>"That they'd be better?"
>The golden mare stays silent for a moment, and then shrugs.
>"Maybe. I don't know what I thought, but I've realized that you and your brother are wonderful just the way you are. And Ratchet and Rocket will be too, even though I can't teach them everything I know about flying."
>There's a momentary pause as the waiter delivers the oatcakes to the duo.
>Ace takes out her fork.
>"So, what now?"
>"Now? Now I focus my flight training solely on you and your brother."

>Spitfire smirks as her daughter's jaw drops.
>"Wait, what?"
>"You heard me; from now on I'm going to be taking an even more active role in making sure both you and Hotshot are prepared to take up the mantel of best fliers in Equestria. This is prime training time for both of you, and I don't want to waste a minute."
>Ace's smile finally breaks through, and her mother can't help but match it.
>The girl is simply brilliant after all.
>As the two go towards their meal, Spitfire notices that Rocket seems especially interested in the plated food.
>Noting his mother's stare, the boy is quick to open his mouth and begin making small, excited sounds
>She chuckles, shaking her head.
>"Sorry you rascal, but I think this is a bit much for you. Maybe in a month or so."
>As she turns back to her plate, she watches the boy's reaction out of the corner of her eye.
>It takes a moment for him to realize that no food is coming his way.
>And so he sets his lips into a line and scrunches.
>Hard.
>Spitfire tries not to sigh, knowing what's coming next.
>"Ace, could you reach into the diaper bag and-"
>Her request is cut off by a quick static sensation brushing against her body, and the accompanying sound of crashing plateware.
>Rocket and his family stare at the ruined oatcake on the ground in wide eyed amazement.
>And then come the sniffles.
>The hitched breathing.
>And then both boys burst into tears.
>Ace springs into action immediately, picking them both up and trying to calm them.
>Meanwhile Spitfire stares down at what's left of her food.
>Finally, she closes her eyes and shakes her head in a mix of amusement and frustration.
>"These kids really are special."
>Hopefully sötnosen has some ideas for magic proofing the house as well...


-Where this whole mess came from-

>Spitfire sits awkwardly with infant Rocket and Ratchet flopping over each other.
>She looks at you in a near panic
>"They don't have wings."
"Well, yeah, that's what the doctor said."
>"But they don't have wings!"
>You frown and raise an eyebrow.
"What are you trying to get at here, Fireball?"
>With tears in her eyes, Spitfire sputters
>"How am I supposed to let them know I love them if I can't preen them!?"


>You look at your Spitfire waifu as she sets bag after bag of flour on the kitchen ledge before nudging them all off the ledge.
>One by one them all plop to the ground and puff out their contents as you look on concerned.
"Um, honey?"
>"Yeah?" She asks looking back but still managing to knock off another flour bag as you sigh.
"I think it's about time we took you to see that psychiatrist."
>Today was a Freudian slip kind of day