//------------------------------// // Scoots the Archer // Story: My Brother, the Storyteller // by gmen15 //------------------------------// Chapter 6: Scoots the Archer It was not even eight when Rumble was forced to prepare to go to sleep. Upon having returned home from the hospital and noticing how late it was, Thunderlane quickly whipped up a quick dinner of cereal and milk for Rumble that they ate in about half an hour before. They then played around for a little while with the plastic set of minotaur horns Thunderlane had brought down earlier. After roughhousing a while as they did most nights, this time with Thunderlane doing his best impersonation of Iron Will, the minotaur that stopped by Ponyville the year before to teach ponies how to stand their ground, the grandfather clock struck seven and Thunderlane immediately stopped. He pulled the horns from his head and trotted them over to the kitchen table as Rumble watched in disappointment. . Playtime was over. Though it was earlier than nine, when Rumble usually went to get ready for bed, Thunderlane told him to go upstairs. Like a typical child, Rumble protested this act of ‘tyranny’, saying that he felt wide awake and didn’t understand why he had to go to bed early. There may have been some instances in which Thunderlane would have given his brother the benefit of the doubt, but after the rough day the colt had, what with going to the allergic reaction and the hospital, Thunderlane was unyielding. He said that while Rumble didn’t have to go to sleep yet, it was best that he get into bed and relax his body. But he did add how he wanted his little brother asleep by nine, which annoyed Rumble further. That was when he usually went upstairs, NOT when he went to sleep. No amount of Rumble saying how ‘I feel fine’ and ‘come on, I like watching you pretend to be a minotaur’ could convince Thunderlane to change his stance so the colt gave up on his feeble pleas. Head hung low, he sulked up the steps like a prisoner walking to his cell after a conviction of death. He could almost feel the imaginary chains on his hooves, clanking together with each step up he took. Just as he reached the halfway point on the stairs, his sorrow at its peak, Thunderlane called up to him. “Hey! Dude, remember the faster you get ready for bed, the more time I’ll have to tell you tonight’s story before nine! And trust me, it’s about to get good!” Suddenly all of the sorrow that had clouded Rumble’s mind, making him temporarily forget that he would still get his story, vanished and Rumble felt a new spark of life.   “Okay!” In a split second, fuelled by this excitement, Rumble went from slowly trotting to nearly sprinting. He pulled his sheets down and ran into the bathroom across the hall to give his teeth a quick brush. Though not that thorough of his job, his teeth still had a bit of a yellow tint after he rinsed, he felt it was adequate enough. One half-flanked attempt at flossing later, he sprinted back to the bedroom, slipped under the blankets and turned his attention to the door, waiting for Thunderlane to arrive. After fifteen minutes Rumble already started to exhibit the first signs of youthful impatience. He was never the most patient when it came to waiting for something exciting. Whether standing in line at an amusement park ride, or waiting for his daisy sandwich to come out of the kitchen at Ponyville’s local diner, Rumble could only stay still for so long before he started to fidget and whisper ‘hurry up’ over and over under his breath. Now he started to shift his hooves beneath his blanket as heated anticipation turned to grating irritation. Finally the door to his room creaked open and Thunderlane slipped inside, kicking it closed behind him. He then pulled up his usual chair to Rumble’s bed and sat down. “Well, I’m sure after the day you’ve had you’re looking forward to unwinding a bit with a nice story.” Thunderlane said. Rumble nodded, “Uh-huh. That hospital room was so stuffy.” “I’ll bet it was,” Thunderlane said, smiling knowingly. Rumble was confused. “But, uh, I wasn’t just talking about the hospital itself,” Thunderlane’s eyelids drooped and his grin widened in a teasing manner, “Romeo.” Rumble froze and stared up at his grinning brother, his heart rate increasing. “Huh? W-what are you...talking about?” “Don’t act surprised, I saw the way you were looking at Scootaloo.” Thunderlane sneered, leaning forward in his seat so his face was right up against Rumble’s. “You like her, don’t you?” “What?” Rumble’s eyes bulged as he quickly he waved his hooves in front of himself defensively. “No! No, it’s nothing like that. We’re just friends.” “Then why are your cheeks now glowing redder than Big Macintosh?” Thunderlane asked with a smarmy grin and wiggle of his eyebrows. Rumble could feel the heat concentrated in his cheeks and quickly looked away. “It’s chilly in here. My...my face is cold. Just like my face was red in the hospital because I was warm.” “Suuure. Hehe, my little brother has his first crush. That is so cute.”  Thunderlane made kissy-kissy faces before slapping his thigh in uproarious laughter. Rumble glared at his brother, who smile back at him. “What? It is. All it means is that you’re growing up.” “Can you get on with the story, please?” Thunderlane nodded and leaned back, placing his hooves over his lap. “Right. So, where did we leave off? Rumble has just saved the Princess from the castle?” Rumble nodded. Thunderlane cleared his throat. “So, Rumble the Valiant returned to Canterlot to visit with Princess Celestia after rescuing her niece, Princess...um....” Thunderlane put his hoof to his chin in thought before he grinned in settlement. “Lotus!” “Lotus?” Rumble tilted his head. “But there isn’t a Princess Lotus.” “Right. I made her up for the story. This is my own fictionalized version of Equestria.” “But you’re putting Princess Celestia is in it, and she’s real.” Thunderlane face-hoofed. “Look! Do you want me to tell the story or not?” “Yes of course I do, I was just pointing out inaccuracies in your story!” Rumble shouted defensively. “Well don’t. Instead, why don’t you learn to suspend a little disbelief?” Thunderlane cleared his throat to continue. “Now then, Princess Lotus was returned safely after being rescued from the Badlands by Rumble the Valiant...” The scent of vanilla incense wafted through Rumble’s nostrils as he stood in front of Princess Celestia’s throne, his armor seeming to glow under the sun’s rays that broke through the stained glass windows lining the walls. It was warm and the knight tried his best not to draw attention to the fact that he was uncomfortable, though the sweat accumulating under his armor made it difficult. A guard was bowing on the top step just before Celestia’s throne as the Princess looked down at him. He looked up at her, speaking in a hushed tone so that Rumble wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. But if his previous experiences with the Princess after he did some heroic feat served as example, the guard was probably saying something like, “Yes, Your Majesty, he saved her. Shall I get the sack of bits from the savings room?” The Princess nodded and the guard stood and trotted down the marble steps past Rumble and left the throne room so that the knight and the Goddess of the sun were alone. The sound of hoofsteps descending the steps leading to the throne made Rumble get down into a bow. “Arise, Sir Rumble. I cannot in good conscious watch you bow to me after what you have done.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Rumble stood up and gazed up at the ever-friendly smiling face of Princess Celestia. “I should be the one thanking you for saving Lotus from that terrible prison and beastly manticore.” “It was my honor.” “Just how did you deal with the manticore? Sorry if I seem overly inquisitive, but I simply love hearing knights tell me of their adventures and all the perils they faced along the way.” The Princess asked, smiling in genuine interest. “I dealt with the creature as humanely as possible. We battled and it had me beat, the only reason I’m standing here right now instead of laying dead in the desert sand is because I was able to reach my sword in time. Still, even after all that, I felt bad for it. So as it lay dying from its wound, I plunged my blade into its neck to save it further pain.” “That is completely understandable, the fact that you even showed that glimmer of mercy when being attacked is such a attribute to your character. You are truly an honorable pony, Rumble.” Princess Celestia smiled, trotting past the knight. “Thank you, Princess.” “In my long life, I have seen many heroes come and pass.” Princess Celestia made her way over to one of the stained glass windows and looked up at the image crafted on it. It showed three unicorns wearing glistening armor, wielding deadly combat weapons against a trio of angry griffons while defending, what appeared to be, an older design of Canterlot Castle. “Many brave warriors that were willing to lay down their lives for the good of Equestria. Some entering battles with the knowledge that they wouldn’t survive,” she said, handing her head. “Many were even dear friends of mine. Each was heartbreaking.” There was a brief silence before the Princess turned to look at Rumble, who straightened himself to look as dignified as possible, especially considering what she was talking about. “You might be young, but I can already tell that you are well on your way to ranking among the most infamous heroes in Equestria’s history.” “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Princess Celestia smiled and trotted back to her throne just as the guard re-entered the room with a heavy sack of bits hanging from his mouth, jingling with each step he took. He placed it on the ground beside Rumble, letting the top open to reveal the shimmering gold bits within. Princess Celestia gestured to the sack of money that was to be Rumble’s payment and smiled.  “As promised, fifteen-hundred bits for returning Princess Lotus.” Rumble stuck out a hoof and waved it away. “I appreciate the offer, Your Highness, but I shall accept no payment as reward. I set out with the main goal of finding Princess Lotus and bringing her home safe and sound. Knowing that I have succeeded in doing that is enough.” Princess Celestia chuckled lightly, “Always the chivalrous one, aren’t you?” “Just serving Canterlot and Your Highness as honorably as I can.” “If you insist. Just always remember that if you need anything, and I mean ANYTHING, I am at your beck and call.” Princess Celestia smiled and used her magic to hover the bag over to her waiting hoof, where she dropped it. “Now go on, enjoy your day as the hero, Sir Rumble the Valiant.” Rumble bowed one last time and excused himself before heading out of the castle. The hallway leading to the massive door was so empty that the sounds of his hooves on the tiled floor echoed as if he were in some massive canyon. He exited the castle and made his way to the city square. Quaint shops and homes made up most of the surroundings while the streets were filled with ponies flaunting extraordinary wealth. To the west was the mountain that Canterlot jutted out from, like some magnificent ornament on a tree. To the east was the pure green of rolling hills and lush fields filled with vegetables and fruits of all kinds– apples, oranges, carrots, tomatoes, everything. There were even fields filled with stalks of corn that were designed in a maze-like pattern for little colts and fillies to venture through for their own amusement. As he trotted along, Rumble was met with cheers and applause from all around. He waved to those he passed, blushing a bit and feeling somewhat uneasy being such a focal point after simply doing, what he saw as, his duty. He came up to a small bar. Structurally, it matched the other homes and buildings, though the rambunctious music and boisterous laughter coming from inside made it stand out. A wooden sign hung from two rusted chains above the door. ‘The Stable’ was printed on it in curvy blood-red colors. With a smile, Rumble pushed open the wood door and was instantly met with the pungent scent of sweat and smoke that couldn’t have contrasted more with the sweetly scented incense of Princess Celestia’s throne room. The inside of the bar was smoggy, dim, and noisy. Gathered inside were seemingly the sweatiest, meanest, strongest, most repulsive ponies in Canterlot, stallions and mares that looked as if they hadn’t bathed in weeks. Some grinned to show off gold and silver teeth while others had bodies engulfed in scars and wounds that had yet to fully heal. The shimmer of silver in the dark signaled that many patrons had prosthetic limbs. A place like this would repulse most ponies, but to Rumble, it was where he felt most comfortable. I’m home, he thought with a small laugh. As he walked further in, the smell of tobacco and hard cider continued to cloud his senses, but he was used to it enough that he didn’t cough. Unlike outside, nopony paid him any heed because here he wasn’t a celebrity- he was just another customer. Many ponies in the bar had performed heroic acts in the past so Rumble’s most recent venture was just another ‘notch in his belt’. In the back corner he caught a glimpse of a table that his friends were sitting at. All legends and warriors in their own right, who like Rumble were celebrities to everyday citizens of Equestria. But here, in the bleak bar where it became a challenge to make out one’s face across the room through the sea of darkness, they were average Joes relaxing. Sitting in one seat was Soarin’ the Flash, the fastest stallion in Canterlot that was known for saving five unicorns from plummeting to their deaths when their pegasus-pulled chariot flipped over. He was also known for being extraordinarily kind and chivalrous to those that looked up to him. He was also the ‘heartthrob’ knight. Sure, Rumble had a lot of luck with the ladies, but Soarin’ was the stallion that little fillies had pictures of in their bedrooms. The stallion that all mares wanted to marry and that all stallions wanted to be. It was like he was a breathing, trotting, talking pheromone. Across from him sat the burly figure of Snowflake the Brute, the largest pegasus in Canterlot, if not in all of Equestrian history. Born with tiny wings, he fought to make up for their pathetic size by hitting the gym at an almost addictive rate. Soon his muscles were beyond the point of bulging and, for the most part, defined him. His armor was much too tiny to be of any use on his massive body, though he didn’t let that prevent him from fighting with everything that he had. Rumors spread that he didn’t wear adequate armor because his muscles were so thick any weapon that hit them would bend and break. Amazingly he was a much more gentle soul than he let on, oftentimes enjoying good poetry and literature in front of a roaring fire. Of course he allowed himself to slip into this state of docility only after vanquishing whatever evil lurked in the lands in the most violent, ruthless way possible. To Snowflake’s left was Quicksilver the Silent, a white earth pony with an orange mane that wore a pair of square rimmed glasses pressed up on the bridge of his nose. Though he might not have been extremely fast, he was VERY quick and could sneak up on enemies in the dead of night, hence how he acquired the nickname, the ‘Stealth Owl’. Some ponies thought of him as a ghost, others as a psycho unleashed. But to Rumble, he was simply one of his friends that could kick serious flank when necessary. To Snowflake’s right was a brown earth pony known as Caramel the Rational. A soft-spoken pony that relied on wits over brute strength. He was very moralistic to the point where he refused to drink cider unless it had been purged of all alcoholic properties. This resulted him in often being derided as acting ‘holier than thou’ to others which, though overblown, was sometimes accurate. But he was also a master at mending broken bonds through reason and negotiation whenever something threatened a group’s unity. Unfortunately, the fact that he never won hoof-to-hoof combat and wasn’t overly strong meant that he tended to be overshadowed by those around him. Their laughter was like a magnet drawing Rumble close until he was right behind Soarin’s back. Grinning mischievously, he reached out and clasped his hooves onto the blue pegasus’ shoulder, causing him to jump in his seat and turn towards Rumble with fright-filled eyes. “Gotcha!” Rumble laughed as Soarin’ calmed down and returned the smile. “Rumble, my man!” Soarin’ threw his hooves around the colt while the entire table hooted and hollered and, in Snowflake’s case, went “YEAH!”, as they so often did after he returned from a successful mission. Rumble took his seat between Soarin’ and Caramel. Quicksilver ordered him a mug of cider and told him it was ‘on the house’. “After what you did? Saving the Princess in the desert and slaying a manticore all by yourself? Dude, of course I’d be more than happy to pay for your cider.” Quicksilver said, smiling as he pounded the table. “Did you hear me, get this stallion some cider pronto!” “I’m pretty sure they heard you Quicksilver, you’re practically shouting.” Caramel said, rubbing his ears as if they hurt. Snowflake downed a massive amount of cider before pulling the drink from his lips and letting out a mighty belch. Smiling, he patted his stomach while the entire table erupted into laughter, except Caramel. “Ugh, dude! Come on!” “What?” Snowflake asked innocently. “At least excuse yourself when you let loose like that.” Snowflake laughed and shook his head. “Oh Caramel, lighten up. We’re just a bunch of guys having fun. I know that’s hard for somepony with a stick up their flank to understand but...honestly, I don’t give a flying feather what you think.” Caramel rolled his eyes and looked down at his mug of non-alcoholic cider, which was basically apple juice with a little added spice, nursing it. “Well in Caramel’s defense, that was pretty gross. Come on Snowflake, at least excuse yourself.” Rumble said. Snowflake sighed and looked at Caramel. “Fine...excusez-moi, Monsieur Caramel.” The white pegasus put a hoof to his heart and pouted his lips in feigned regret that earned a snicker from both Rumble and Quicksilver. Caramel didn’t respond to the sarcastic response, and now just looked insulted. Regardless, the conversation moved on. “So, Rumble,” Soarin’ said, clearly trying to move the conversation along before the silence got to be too awkward. “Has Princess Celestia given you any new assignments?” Rumble shook his head as a mare finally arrived with his cider, dropping it in front of him, “Not yet- thank you...” “Wait, Thunderlane! Wait!” Rumble shouted, causing his brother to stop telling the story. Thunderlane sighed. “Now what?” “Um...you said Rumble the Valiant is a school-aged colt like me. So how can he drink cider?” Rumble asked, his eyebrow raised in inquiry. “You and your friends had to wait until you turned sixteen last year to drink.” Legally, Thunderlane thought with a snicker before responding to Rumble’s question, “I don’t know. It’s just part of my story.” “But there’s alcohol in it!” “What are you a literature critic or something? It’s a bedtime story.” Rumble didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared at Thunderlane, crossing his hooves over his chest. “He might be a colt, but he is also a knight. So by your logic, having a school-aged colt be a knight is acceptable, but having said same knight drink cider is wrong because he’s too young?” Rumble shrugged, “Hey, I don’t write the law.” “You want me to change it?” Thunderlane asked, smiling slightly. Rumble nodded. “You sure?” Again, Rumble nodded. “Yes, I’m sure!” “Alrighty then!” Thunderlane was now sporting a full-out, snarky grin that made Rumble somewhat nervous as to his intentions. The waitress brought over a fresh bottle of foal formula, which Rumble took and looked at, perplexed at what he had just been handed. “What the hay is this?” Rumble asked just as he was suddenly transformed into a foal. Mindlessly, he sucked on as if he had gone a whole day without being fed. The bar wasn’t a bar at all, it was, in fact, a daycare center filled with little foals of all kinds. Little tiny, foal Rumble, with his little dot eyes and adorable gurgling noises, happily drank his formula from his highchair, spilling some on his bib as he adjusted in his seat, his diaper crinkling, to make himself more comfortable just before he stopped drinking and stared off, giggling and drooling all over his little bib. “Ga-ga, goo-goo,” said Rumble the Valiant foal. “THUNDERLANE! Stop it!” Thunderlane laughed, “Sorry man, I couldn’t resist pulling that foal card on you. Who-boy! You should see the look on your face!” Rumble growled and turned over so that he was facing away from Thunderlane. Suddenly Thunderlane laughter slowed to halting chuckles as if he was trying, unsuccessfully, to stop on the spot. “Rumble, come on I’m only kidding! Jeez, you have no sense of humor at all, do you?” Rumble didn’t respond. Deep down he knew that he was overreacting, but after the trying day he had, what with the chocolate shake and the discovery of his confused feelings towards Scootaloo, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by his brother’s antics. “Man, if you can’t tolerate this ribbing, you’re in trouble when you get older and...” Thunderlane stopped as his playful expression vanished, as if he said something that made him regret his scolding of Rumble. He licked his lips and let out a deep sigh. “Okay, I’ll make the story what it was before and have Rumble the Valiant drink non-alcoholic cider. Does that make you feel better?” Rumble turned around and slowly nodded, giving his brother a weak smile. Thunderlane returned the gesture before continuing with the story. Rumble the ‘definitely not a foal’ Valiant, took the non-alcoholic drink and started to sip it. He leaned back as he listened to Soarin’ and Quicksilver go into another story. This time, they were talking about a recent mission where they were sent to pursue a suspected anti-monarchist terrorist that authorities had been tracking and believed was part of a master plot to assassinate Princess Celestia. “So yeah we get to this really grimy place, you know it’s basically a junkyard, and our lead goes into this rinky little building that looks like it’s a gust of wind away from blowing over.” Soarin’ took a drink before continuing. “And then...” “Can I tell this part, please?” Quicksilver asked with an exaggerated look of pleading. Soarin’ smiled and nodded. With a grin, Quicksilver scooted forward in his chair and cleared his throat before he continued the story. “So anyway, there was one guard and we knew that we could take him no problem, right? Well the concern we had was that we didn’t know how many guards were inside. Would this building lead us directly into a room where these scumbags were having their little anarchist meeting, or would there be another set of doors with two more guards.” “So what happened?” Snowflake asked eagerly, leaning forward like a little colt listening to his grandfather tell some grand tale of battle. “Well, we noticed a loosened grate just above the door so me, being the master of stealth that I am I made my way up to the guard in the dark and...” Quicksilver made a chopping motion with his hoof, “BAM! Took him down in one hit to the neck!” “That’s when I came in.” Soarin’ stated with a steady pride. “Aw, you’re not gonna let me finish?” “I thought we could split the story up,” Soarin’ said before he continued, ignoring the look of disappointment on Quicksilver’s face. “Yeah, so I flew over to the grate and pulled it off and then made my way into the vents with Quicksilver right on my flank. We moved quickly, yet kept silent as a couple of snakes in the grass. Finally we heard voices and reached another vent. I looked through it to find a small table where five ponies sat, including our perp.” “Let me guess. Then you broke through the grate and beat them all, right?” Caramel asked in a slightly know-it-all fashion. Soarin’ held out a hoof, “Excuse us, this is our story. Let me tell it.” Soarin’ cleared his throat. “So yeah we kicked out the grate, fell down and before they knew what hit them, we beat each of them to a pulp. Then we brought them back to Canterlot in a caged wagon when they were thrown into prison and they’ve been locked away ever since.” “How long ago was this?” Rumble asked. “Four months,” Quicksilver jumped in. “It was right after you left for your quest, Rumble.” “And that,” Soarin’ said, holding out his hoof to Quicksilver, who bumped it, “is how we ended the plot to overthrow Princess Celestia and the Equestrian government.” Rumble, Caramel, and Snowflake all applauded Soarin’ and Quicksilver at the completion of the tale The two ponies each bowed with grains spread across their reddened cheeks.   As their cheers of kudos died down Soarin’ turned to Rumble. “So, Rumble, why don’t you tell us about your little escapade across Equestria?” “Yeah, you were all the way out in the desert?” Snowflake asked. With everyone staring at him expectantly, Rumble could feel his heart rate increase and his cheeks blush. He wasn’t the most bashful of ponies, never enjoying to talk about himself for fear that he would sound as if he was bragging. “Eh, it wasn’t much,” he said, looking down at his drink. He was met with a chorus of ‘come on!’, and ‘tell us!’ from his friends. He knew that he didn’t have much of a choice. But before he could even open his mouth to start telling his tale in as humble a manner as possible, he heard the young, raspy voice of a female filly he had known well and had always felt his heart pound around. “So, are you and your damsel in distress dating or what?” Turning, the five ponies at the table looked to see the familiar and determined orange face of none other than the feared pegasus filly, Scootaloo the Archer. “Oh come on! You’re seriously putting Scootaloo in this story?” Rumble shouted as Thunderlane just looked down at him with the smug smile typical of an older brother knowing that they were grating on the nerves of their younger sibling. “What, I put my friends in there- Soarin’, Snowflake, Caramel, Quicksilver. It seems only fair to put one of your friends in there since it is a story with a protagonist based on you. Besides, are you really going to tell me you don’t want me to include Scootaloo in your tale.” Thunderlane wiggled his eyebrows and grinned knowingly. He seemed to be having too much fun pushing his brother’s buttons that night. For what reasons, Rumble wasn’t entirely sure. Regardless, the little colt crossed his forelegs over his chest before exhaling in defeat, his mane slightly raising in the breeze brought from his breath. “Get on with it.” Scootaloo the Archer, or ‘Scoots’ as everypony called her, trotted over with a smile that radiated confidence. She wore a green shirt with a sheath filled with arrows slung over her back. The ceiling lights shined down onto her cap that had a red feather poking above the brim. Her smile was content, but with an air of self-confidence that still managed to convey a sense of humility, as if she had no problem receiving praise for doing something good and no problem taking the blame for doing something wrong. She leaned against the table, looking at the five colts in front of her before her eyes landed on the slightly blushing Rumble. “Well? Are you?” she asked. Rumble shook his head to clear his mind, “I’m sorry, what was that?” Scoots snickered. “I was asking if you and Princess Lotus were dating? After all, you did save her from that castle and, well, it always seems knights fall in love with the damsel they save.” Scoots put her hoof up to her forehead and leaned back in an exaggeratedly dramatic fashion as if to mock the very concept of a Princess and her knight in shining armor falling in love. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes to punctuate her performance. Rumble sighed, thinking back to the kiss he had shared with the Princess. That moment of bliss as they gazed into each other’s eyes. She was one of the most beautiful ponies he had ever seen, and he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t thought about asking for more than a kiss. But the truth was that’s as far as it got. They returned, she threw her hooves around his neck, and trotted off to her quarters. “She gave me a kiss to show her gratitude, that’s all she did.” Rumble noticed Scoots’ face seemed to show a moment of uncertainty with a bit of anger, but he passed it off and took another sip of his drink. “It’s a knight’s etiquette to accept the kiss of the mare they save.” “And what’s the knight’s etiquette when you save a stallion, huh?” Scoots smiled playfully. “A friendly slap on the flank, or do you give them a nice old smooch on the lips as as well?” Quicksilver and Snowflake started to laugh. Caramel seemed to be miles away and Soarin’ was trying his best to keep a neutral face but Rumble could tell that he wanted to join the other two ponies that were currently laughing like they were in a comedy club. “No. Usually we treat them to a round of hard cider and a manly round of hoof-wrestling.” Rumble flexed one of his forelegs to show the formation of a slight bicep. The other stallions hooted and hollered, save for Caramel who seemed somewhat annoyed to be around such male camaraderie. He usually seemed more comfortable in front of a book, anyway. Quicksilver pushed the last empty seat out for Scoots to take. Thanking the red-maned earth pony, she slid into the chair and leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh. She didn’t even seem to notice how the sheath of arrows was squished between her back and the chair. “If I ever need saving from any of you, please treat me to that instead of a kiss.” “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t kiss you,” Rumble muttered. Scoots’ smile vanished, clearly insulted by Rumble’s words. “And why not?” Rumble shrugged but he could feel himself getting warm. “Because we’re friends and not romantically interested.” Scoots smirked. “Ah, but you weren’t romantically interested in the Princess, yet you kissed her no problem.” Now Rumble was confused. “I...I don’t understand. You told me that you didn’t want to be kissed.” “Oh I don’t,” Scootaloo said, laughing. “I just enjoy making you feel uncomfortable so that I can watch you squirm like an ant under a magnifying glass.” Scoots winked and the entire table erupted into a juvenile chorus of “oohs” that made Rumble want to hurl his mug of cider into the wall. Fortunately he kept his composure and just stared at Scoots with a look of annoyance. “Whatever.” “Hey, lighten up I’m only teasing you Rumble. You know that I think you’re awesome.” Rumble didn’t answer, he focused his attention on the tiny crack in the table, wondering how it got there. “So you’re just gonna ignore me?” I wonder if it was caused my somepony slamming their drink–” Rumble thoughts concerning the chip in the table were interrupted by the sound of Scoots slamming her hoof down onto the tabletop. Breathing heavy and heart racing, he looked up to see the filly smiling at him. “You can’t phase me out that easily.” Just them the door to the bar burst open and a wild-eyed stallion, panting and sweating up a storm, stood before all of the customers. “Aye, it’s the Minotaurs, it is.” he shouted in a heavy accent that was foreign to Canterlot. “Six of our troops are bein’ held hostage by those mangy mongrels! The Princess is askin’ for some brave knights to meet with her immediately to discuss a rescue operation!” Everypony at Rumble’s table stood up. The bar’s previously relaxed atmosphere was now bustling in a wild chaos. Ponies showing both anxiety and rage, cursing out the minotaurs and calling them ‘horned devils’ while unicorns felt compelled to jump in and defend those with horns. This led to several fights between unicorns and other ponies that wasn’t entirely uncommon for such a bar, but the sheer number of fights was overwhelming and Rumble and his friends found themselves having to weave their way out of the bar as if they were in a maze. When a unicorn, clearly not in a right state of mind, ran into Snowflake and started punching him, the hulking pegasi simply picked the smaller pony up and tossed him into three others who were in a corner fighting. He then snorted before catching up with the others, who all were staring back at him. Snowflake, noticing this, paused and shrugged. “What? He got in my way.” Rumble rolled his eyes and could see that Scoots face-hoofed. They then continued until they were out of the bar and heading down the cobblestone street towards Canterlot Castle, the cool evening air whistling past them like owls swooping in for prey. Rumble knew that they weren’t called on specifically for the task, but being the six toughest ponies in Canterlot, he knew that it was their duty to find them. When they arrived, immediately they found Princess Celestia standing outside, flanked by her two guards. She sighed, “I suppose you heard about the hostage situation?” “Yes Princess,” Rumble said, going into a bow, as did the other five ponies he was with. “We are here to find them and bring them home.” Princess Celestia allowed herself to give a small smile, “I knew you would. But are you sure you’re up to such a task, Rumble? You have only just returned from your last quest, and that wasn’t a trot through the gardens.” “Positive.” Rumble felt a warm hoof on his back. He turned to see Scoots looking down at him with a determined smile on her face, winking as if to tell Rumble she had his back. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we’ll be the only ones that reach you in the next hour.” Princess Celestia tilted her head in bewilderment, “What do you mean?” Suddenly the crazy pony that had told the bar about the guards’ being captured was now running to the Princess with a wild look in his eyes. “Princess, ah tried me hardest to get more ta come down here, but all ah got were these. The rest keep fightin’ like a pack of mangy dogs.” Princess Celestia closed her eyes and let out a sigh, “Figures.” “With all do respect, Princess, why don’t you send your guard to rescue them?” Caramel asked. “I mean, they probably outnumber the minotaurs by a huge margin. At least that’s how it has always been.” “Normally I would agree, but the terrain is much too dangerous for guards to successfully navigate,” Princess Celestia looked up at the six brave knights standing before her with looks of steely determination on their faces. “Knights such as yourselves are more knowledgeable on the dangers that lurk out there. Besides, we need to keep the guards here to protect the city. We have reason to suspect that this action was only a single act of terror by the minotaurs, and that they plan a larger attack in the coming weeks. We cannot risk being short changed here. It is much easier to send out a small group of skilled fighters such as yourselves.” Rumble took a step forward and nodded. “And we will work until we no longer breathe to bring them home,” he turned to the other five standing behind him, “won’t we?” ‘“YEEEAAAHHH!” Snowflake shouted, pounding his chest with his hoof like a wild barbarian. “Yes!” Soarin’ threw his hoof into the air and shouted. “Oh yeah,” Quicksilver growled, pushing his glasses back against the bridge of his nose and snorted like an angry bull trapped in a cage. “Definitely,” Caramel said with a scowl that showed how he was all business. “Uh-huh.” Scoots said before spitting at the ground and stomping the saliva into the cobblestone with her hoof. “Excellent. I wish you the best of luck.” The Princess saluted the six knights, who returned the gesture before trotting off down the road. After a brief talk and agreeing to meet up later that evening after gathering supplies so that they could head off before the sun set, they split off. Rumble trotted down with Scoots by his side. The sky was darkening as the sun sunk and the moon rose and distant stars dotted the sky like sprinkles on indigo icing. “I’m still not entirely comfortable with you tagging along, you know that.” Rumble said. “What? Because I’m a filly?” Scoots laughed, sticking her tongue out when Rumble stopped and whipped his head to look at her in a brief moment of emotion. “No. Because I care about you.” Rumble quickly reeled his outburst back and bit his lip. “And I’m afraid that you could get hurt out there, it’s pretty dangerous.” Scoots raised an eyebrow and smirked, pulling an arrow from her sheath and pulling it against the string of the bow. Before Rumble could say anything, Scoots released the string and the arrow shot off before piercing through a tin can that had been perched on a railing outside of a pharmacy. It flew back and stuck to the wooden wall of the shop, hanging loosely from the arrow shaft. Sighing, Rumble turned to Scoots, who twirled the bow in her hoof before throwing it back over her shoulder and into the sheath. “I think I can handle myself buddy-boy. This isn’t my first adventure, and nothing scares me. I laugh in the face of danger. Haha!” Scoots laughed haughtily. Rumble, too exhausted to retort and knowing that she had a valid point, simply let out a sigh and glanced up to find the filly sticking her tongue out and trotting down the road, shaking her head and laughing quietly. “See ya later tonight, Rumble.” Rumble let out a long sigh as he watched the little filly vanish into the darkness. He trotted over to his home, no larger or more elaborate than any other. It was two stories tall, had walls made of finely sanded wood, and a slanting roof top resembling two waves meeting back to back, the crest of each blooming as if about to crash on parallel shores. Inside wasn’t any more ornate. It was so dark and silent that Rumble’s first hoofsteps upon the hardwood floor echoed all around. Lighting a nearby candle to provide some light, Rumble closed the door behind him, the latch clicking into place. He stood in place for a moment and took a deep breath, inhaling the homely scent of the wooden floors before slowly exhaling. Finally, he was alone. Trotting over to his tiny, cramped living area, armor still clanking against his body with each step like a set of melancholy drums, he slumped back onto his soft couch and stared across at the peach-colored walls. Moments passed as the nearby grandfather clock ticked and ticked. Rumble leaned his head back against the cushion and listened to the repetitive sound of the clock as images of Scoots filled his mind like a wonderful, living daydream. The sound of the grandfather clock outside of Rumble’s room striking nine made the colt jump slightly, if not for how sudden and unexpected it was, then for how eerie it was that it matched Thunderlane’s story. The only difference was that he was in his bed with Scoots smiling at him instead of in the living room on the couch with nopony save for himself. Thunderlane took a deep breath and smiled. “I think we’ll stop there for tonight. How does that sound?” Rumble’s eyes went wide. “What? But it was about to get good!” “I know. And that means all the more to look forward to tomorrow.” Thunderlane stretched and let out a massive yawn that made Rumble to yawn as well, almost as if contagious. But that didn’t mean he wanted to go to bed, at least not yet. How could he go to sleep when he was so excited about finding out about the start to Rumble and the other’s quest? “Come on!” he complained before yawning. He tried to stifle it but Thunderlane saw it. “You’re tired, dude. Listen, if it makes you feel any better I’ll read to you for even longer tomorrow. It’s a Friday so you can stay up until eleven and I can tell you all about the epic quest of Rumble, Soarin’, Caramel, Snowflake, Quicksilver and...Scoots the Archer.” Thunderlane made ‘kissy kissy’ faces which annoyed his younger brother. “Very funny.” Rumble muttered. At that moment the sounds of a furious banging downstairs rang out, causing the two brothers to turn their attention to the closed door leading out of the room. “What is that?” Rumble asked. “It’s nothing,” Thunderlane muttered before he turned back to his brother, the glimmer of playfulness he had moments before was gone. “Get some sleep little man, and enjoy your dreams.” Thunderlane kissed Rumble on the head and, like always, the little colt squirmed and said how ‘gross’ it was. The older stallion then left his younger brother in the dark and closed the door. He pressed his ear to the door to listen and make sure Rumble wasn’t getting up to follow him, something he had feared ever since his father had started to come home violent and drunk. The knocking persisted and Thunderlane knew he had to go do what he did every night. He could only hope that his father was too drunk to put up a fight, and not hostile. He ran downstairs and flung open the door to find a wiry, wide-eyed stallion with a frazzled grey mane and mangy black coat. His violet eyes were glazed over and disoriented. This was Typhoon Haze, Thunderlane and Rumble’s infamously drunk father. At the very first glance, Thunderlane knew that, just like most nights, Typhoon wasn’t interested in simply collapsing on the couch for sleep. “What the heck took you so long?” the older pony hissed, pushing his way past Thunderlane who scrunched his nose at the heavy scent of alcohol that trailed him. Thunderlane closed the door and turned to see his father stumble slowly towards the kitchen. Following at a reasonable distance, Thunderlane could tell that his father was a loose canon and he knew that saying the wrong thing could set him off on a drunken tirade.   The drunk stallion opened the fridge and looked inside, his head moving up and then down to scan the entire inside before he closed the door. “Where’s dinner?” Thunderlane swallowed, his dry through stinging as the saliva travelled down. He was nervous, but kept his outer composure. “You see...got Rumble and myself some cereal after we got back from the hospital. He had...um...an allergic reaction to chocolate.” Typhoon slowly turned around, his eyes boring holes into Thunderlane’s very soul. “And what about me? Hm? What did you expect me to clap my hooves together and ‘poof!’ my dinner would magically appear? I’m not a unicorn.” “But you’re an adult.” Thunderlane muttered, a rising anger building within him. “Besides, I’d think you’d be more concerned about your son being admitted to the hospital than about dinner.” Typhoon stared a moment as if he couldn’t believe the words coming from his son’s mouth. Then he smiled, slowly sauntering up to Thunderlane, swaying in a manner that the younger stallion couldn’t tell if it was meant to be intimidating or simply an effect of his binging. “You sassing me, boy?” “I’m speaking my mind.” Thunderlane hissed under his breath. The overbearing presence of his father was all too frightening, but he was determined to stand his ground, ignoring how powerless he actually felt. Memories of black eyes and facial cuts that never fully healed flashed through his mind. He knew that he was going to have to fight his drunk father, just as he had almost every night since their mother had left them. “So you are,” Typhoon laughed in a halting way only a drunk can. “You know, you always were a coward, Thunderlane. Always trying to avoid confrontation whenever possible.” “How can that be true when I’m here standing in front of your drunken flank?” Thunderlane asked, taking a cautious step forward. He almost gagged at the smell of his father’s alcohol-laden breath. “What about Rumble? Why don’t you let him come down here to see me?” “He doesn’t need to.” “Why? Because then the little charade you’ve worked so hard to create would be shattered?” Thunderlane closed his eyes and looked down, clenching his teeth tight. “Shut up.” “Because then you’ll have to explain to him why his daddy is an angry drunk that beats on his older brother every night?” “Shut up.” “You might think you’re big and bad, but in reality you’re a coward that’s only doing it to avoid Rumble discovering the truth.” “I said shut up you drunk jerk!” Thunderlane growled through his teeth at a loud enough volume to get his point across, yet quiet enough not to alert Rumble. He now looked up into Typhoon’s eyes with a fiery hatred held back only by the immaculate self control he had developed over the years. “I’m doing it to protect Rumble and his mentality. He doesn’t need you to come barging in and ruin it for him.” “You mean protecting his innocence?” Typhoon laughed, shaking his head. “Son, let me tell you a little something about ‘innocence’. It is a fleeting phase of life that we all eventually outgrow. No amount of masking the truth,” Typhoon trotted over to the table and grabbed the minotaur horns that still were out from earlier, “through your little fantasy crap and playing pretend with him is gonna save him!” With that he threw the horned helmet at Thunderlane, who leapt to dodge it. The sound of plastic hitting the ground and rattling sent a shiver up Thunderlane’s spine. Remaining slightly airborne, he watched as his father approached him with a renewed look of malice in his eyes. “So why delay the inevitable? Call my son down here so I can say hello.” Maintaining a death scowl, Thunderlane shook his head. His father smirked. “Exactly. You’re a pathetic coward and standing up to me every night will never change that. In fact, by doing so you’re turning Rumble into a coward as well. Maybe I am a failure as a father,” Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say. Thunderlane thought. “...after all...” I swear to Celestia “...no good father would raise both of his sons to be cowards.” This was all Thunderlane could take. Without thinking, he shoved his father back so that he stumbled a few feet before hitting his back against the wall. Regaining his composure, he looked back up at his son and gave him a sinister smile. Thunderlane’s little act of provocation was all he needed to do to trigger his father’s rage. Before the now regretful Thunderlane could speak up, his father lunged at him and took him down, smashing his hooves into his son’s face a few times: left, right, left, right, left, right. Thunderlane could feel his nose crack and his eyes get smashed and swell shut. He grunted as he tried to fight back, but it was no use. He was pinned and at the mercy of the drunken psycho. With one final blow to his son’s gut, causing the younger stallion to clutch his abdomen and gag, Typhoon had stopped. Clearly exhausted, and satisfied in making his point clear to his bloodied son, the older pony got off of his son and stumbled over to the couch. “And not only are you a coward. You’re weak and pathetic, both mentally,” Thunderlane tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by a sneering Typhoon, “and physically.” Typhoon fell belly-first onto the couch and sighed. “How long do you think you can hide that from Rumble?” With a drunken laugh the older stallion fell asleep. Thunderlane was panting, his nose bleeding into his mouth and his fur covered in a mix of his and his father’s sweat. Slowly he let his head fall back onto the soft carpet, still breathing heavily as the silence was broken by the sounds of his father’s uneven snoring. He wanted to forget what his father had told him, and dismiss it as nothing more than drunken blather. There was absolutely no substance behind it, after all. He was doing everything he did for Rumble, and Rumble alone. But then he thought harder, and slowly started to realize that perhaps his intentions were a bit cowardly. He didn’t want to face the day when Rumble would lose his innocence, and realize the truth of his father. If possible, he wished he could delay it indefinitely and keep Rumble in his little cocoon of happiness. But for what reason did he feel compelled to do so? Certainly protecting Rumble was important, but it was just one piece of the puzzle. Personally, Thunderlane knew that he couldn’t deal with seeing his little brother lose the spark of foal hood joy he still had in his eyes, something that had left Thunderlane so long ago and only returned when he played around with Rumble, for his happiness was Thunderlane’s happiness. He was scared about what the revelation would do to their relationship. How would Rumble take the news in regards to Thunderlane keeping him in the dark for so long? Would he blame him for hiding the truth? Would he no longer look up to him not only because he was a liar but because he was weak and couldn’t stand up to Typhoon without getting bludgeoned? For so long he knew Rumble looked up to both him and Typhoon like heroes. What would happen if he saw the ugly truth; that his father was an angry, violent drunk and his brother was not the strong hero he believed him to be? Thunderlane didn’t want to find out, and perhaps he was afraid of losing the one avenue he had to dream. If Rumble was no longer the little colt with the wild imagination that he was now, where else could Thunderlane go to escape reality and embrace fantasy? Thunderlane’s playing with Rumble and telling him epic stories had always been a brief distraction from the cold, unsettling truth that was reality before it came pounding at the door after a long night at the bar. Could he really give up the little sliver of serenity he had managed to salvage in the pile of manure that was his real life and maintain his sanity? No, he knew that he couldn’t and pressing his hooves to his eyes and breathing deep and quick, he silently wept under the ceiling lights that shone bright up above for a long while and reflected on his personal assessment of his character. I am a coward.