The Flower Mare: Unbroken

by Flammenwerfer

Void - Part 2 of 2

The sky was blanketed by a thick sheet of rolling, gray clouds… the very kind that promised an atmospheric-river of rain within the next couple of hours and serving as a warning to any travelers who would dare tread on this, vast stretch of field.

The mood was somber—perfect for their location of seemingly innocuous plain that stood for tens of miles in either direction. The wind whipped through the manes of the four mares who stood together, and forcing them all to squint their eyes. That same wind created waves through the lush, green, flowery fields that seemed to beckon the small group of travelers.

The quietness, eerily so, was only disturbed by the wind’s soft, sonorous howl as it danced a routine most familiar to the oldest mare of the group.

Schnee’s normally cheerier exterior cooled in the presence of the majesty before them, and her features were now marked with the telltale signs of her soldiery of years past—a warrior’s stoicism.

For the three crusaders, it seemed to chill them to the bone to see Schnee in a way they had only seen her once or twice. Even more than that, from their perspectives, the Flower Mare seemed incredibly at peace, belied by her steely exterior.

As for the mare in question, she was thankful that she bundled herself up as much as she did on this cool, Alemaneian autumn day.

At some point, the silence became unbearable, and Scootaloo fidgeted on her hooves in the grass for a few more moments before working up the courage to speak out.

“Schnee?” she asked, earning everypony’s attention at an instant with the sudden disruption of an unduly calm, somber silence.

Schneeblume’s gaze never tore away from below, seemingly scanning each blade of grass for the entire expanse of these fields.

Scootaloo took this as a cue to continue:

“Where are we?”

The same question was harbored in the minds of Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom all the same, and all three young mares awaited Schnee’s response.

But, no response was forthcoming.

Well, at least, for a while… and one that made sense:

“Sweetie Belle?” came Schneeblume’s thick, alluring-accented reply that seemed wholly out of place for the question that was fielded.

Sweetie’s own thoughts were disrupted at the sound of her own name, but before the perfectly coiffed young mare could respond in kind, Schneeblume had other, much more direct words to add:

“You seem… anxious. Ja?”

Sweetie felt judged at that instant. To say that Schnee was spot-on in her assessment without looking at her directly would be a gross understatement.

“Y-yea… well, I mean…” Sweetie Belle struggled to find the words to clarify. Her hooves could not sit still in the soft dirt and grass, despite how much she loved the lush wilderness such as this.

She couldn’t put words to the weird feeling that was worming its way into her soul, and apparently, Schneeblume was able to single her out for it. For whatever reason, there was nothing for her to love here.

Thankfully though, she did not have to answer immediately:

“As a unicorn, you have a seventh sense about you through magic. Tell me, what do you feel?”

Scootaloo’s and Apple Bloom’s curious eyes were on their best friend now, and she felt even more like an animal in the carriage lights. What was Schnee’s point to all of this? Where was she going?

“I… I don’t know what you mean? It feels weird here, but…”

“Sweetie… please,” Schnee’s tone lowered from matter-of-fact to almost, pleading.

She then turned to her with those wide, lavender eyes that harbored so many horrors that she had seen in her life.

“I want you to close your eyes. Listen to your seventh sense. What do you feel through your magic?

“I must know…”

At her exhortation and a face that she simply couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to, Sweetie Belle did just that.

She took a deep breath and shuttered her eyes. She felt the wind lap at the exposed parts of her coat, rustling each and every fiber and tuft. She felt the cool, icy air enter her lungs and leave naught but a chilling trace as she breathed out.

Only she existed in the world as she became one with her surroundings, and reached out with her magic’s tendrillic hold in a method of meditation she learned through Princess Twilight Sparkle.

And as Sweetie tapped into the natural magic that poured over her from this simple, expansive field, she finally understood exactly why she felt uncomfortable.

…exactly why she inexplicably wanted to leave as soon as she arrived, and never return.

…exactly why she felt… wrong in existing at this very moment.

Sweetie’s mouth opened and she breathed her first, shaky words.

“I feel… cold. But not temperature-wise. I feel like the area is literally chilling my heart,” she began.

And she shakily continued:

“I feel… I feel like it’s incredibly hard to take in the natural magic here. It’s stuffy—it clogs the sieve of my horn. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to cast certain spells here without incredible difficulty.”

Schnee interjected at her pause, and beckoned her further.

“What else do you feel?”

“The beautiful scenery is masked. I feel like I don’t belong here… as if this is sacred ground,” Sweetie answered, eyes still shut.

“I feel… a darkness amongst the natural aura here. It’s… it’s cold. It’s angry… but at the same time, I feel calm.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both cocked an eyebrow as Sweetie Belle’s words became much more confident in articulating exactly what she felt.

“I feel like if I venture further, I’ll never walk out of this place again. But yet… I feel a strange, morbid peace surrounding me. It’s a deathly, spindly hoof that’s daring me… begging me to come closer and join them. It tugs at me… almost like a call from the void...”

And then, it all clicked.

It all made sense.

She thought feelings like this only existed in textbooks in Twilight’s Library, and that it was all fairy tales meant to scare young unicorns. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she would be privy to what she was feeling, and envelop herself in.

It was an ‘Aetheric Scar.’ A mathematical ‘hole’ in the magical realm.

Sweetie’s eyes popped open as she took a deep breath. Her eyes teared heavily, and she gazed out upon the same, peaceful, lifeless land—only by sight.

“Schnee, where are we?!”

“You’re certainly in tune with your magical ability,” came the response. “But you know where we are.”

Solemnly, Sweetie nodded as she stared back out into the once innocuous expanse.

“So. These are the Seele Plains.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom did not look too particularly surprised.

“I had a hunch…” the latter voiced.

But both their fidgeting spells ebbed away at an instant. Instead, calm looks of reverence replaced what little impatience they harbored.

Schnee could take as long as she liked for all they cared.

“While I wanted to visit again, I’m glad I was able to bring the three of you here...” Schnee spoke anew, earning the Crusaders’ attention at once.

She gestured with her once wounded hoof out toward the edge of the plains. Her voice was methodical and lecturing:

“Four years ago at this very spot, nearly twenty-thousand ponies lost their lives in a single day. I was almost one of them. All the rest of my childhood friends were slain here as well.”

She finally tore her gaze away and made sure to lock eyes with everypony, acknowledging their own reservations before continuing onward towards the horizon:

“The ponies that lay beneath the grass here did not throw their lives away… they were sacrificed,” she said unflinchingly, though that particular choice of word echoed in each of the girls’ minds.

She continued her soft explanation, though her voice bordered a whisper:

“The saddest part of it all, was that they knew they would be sacrificed. But, every single pony who was slain here hoped in their hearts that, if the War would claim them in its final hours, that their sacrifice would mean something… that their deaths would bring about a true end and meaning to ‘the war to end all wars.’

“Formerly friends and foes… now only ponies lay side by side. At the very least, they’ve found their peace.”

Sweetie Belle shot a look to her best friends, and they echoed her feelings of reverence and profoundness. There was nothing to say.

All they could do was exist.

A few more loaded moments of silence past before Schnee turned on her hooves.

“We should leave now,” was all she said before slowly walking back whence they arrived without so much as waiting for a response from her friends.

All was well though. It was time to leave.

Sweetie Belle nodded and started after Schnee whilst she called back softly towards the other two:

“Come on, girls.”

“Right behind ya, Sweets,” came Apple Blooms reply, and she promptly fell into step.

“Yep,” Scootaloo also answered, but…

...she hesitated.

With a single hoof in the air ready to make after the group, she turned back towards the expansive plains. She eyed the rolling grass on this overcast morning where the wind continued to dance a somber routine with nature as its partner.

And in a move Scootaloo would never be able to explain, she uttered with the utmost respect and deference:

“Rest in peace…”

The plains appeared to answer her with an extra powerful gust that rippled the long grass in her direction, crashing over her face in a way that calmed her tenuous nerves.

Scootaloo closed her eyes as she relished in the sudden bout of direct wind and dook a deep breath.

She then galloped away to quickly catch up with everypony, leaving the Seele Plains behind her in its natural silence.

A gentle mist fell upon the quaint little town that might as well have been a suburb of the last major city the group of four passed through.

And it did well to blanket their destination in an ominous veil of white as they stood outside what was Schneeblume’s former home, where her father still lived.

The small  house, with a simple door and two flanking, four-paned windows not unlike her own back in Ponyville. Schneeblume felt a small pang or guilt for not being able to show the girls some of the beautiful sights from when they docked at Siegstadt—the capital city of her likewise beautiful country. Their stop in Seele likewise was not exactly a refreshing walk.

The Crusaders had assured her consistently that there were more important things to take care of.

“Well… here we are.  Südgarden, my hometown.” Schnee said after a few moments of silence.

She continued as she regarded her birth-home with a far-off fondness:

“Just like when I left. Nothing seems to have changed. And it's still so well maintained. My father still lives…” she mused.

Apple Bloom glanced up at her, the other two Crusaders flanking Schnee’s left.

“Yeah?”

Schnee nodded stoically.

“Ja. Nopony could maintain this as meticulously as he”

Scootaloo put a hoof forward towards the house.

“Then let’s go. We’re right behind you, Schnee.”

Sweetie Belle also rallied to her side.

“You know it!”

Schnee’s face colored with a fond warmness, but as she took her first steps forward to be in step with her closest friends, her hooves wavered…

...and her right hoof remained suspended in the air.

The girls had continued forward, but none of them were blind to the fact that Schnee was not following them anymore. All three of them turned back with measurable concern written on their faces, and saw their war veteran’s face… and her entire body… had demurred.

“Schnee?”

The mare in question did not look at them, and bore her gaze into the smooth, tidy walkway beneath her.

“I… I…” she struggled to marshall her thoughts. “I just…” she shook her head and shut her eyes tightly.

“I can’t face him like this…”

Scootaloo scurried up to Schnee and forcefully met her far-off stare.

“Yes you can! You can do this! We’ll be right here with you. Through everything!” she reassured with an open-mouthed smile.

A single tear fell from Schnee’s eyes.

“Gott im Himmel… hilf mir…” she whispered, and after rallying herself, she took a deep breath and steeled her gaze.

“I’m ready. But I need your girls’ help…” she admitted.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both stepped back over to her.

“Anything, Schnee.”

Schneeblume gulped once and spoke her request tenuously:

“Can… I hate to ask this of you girls, but can you please have him answer the door? I want to see how he looks before I ‘re-introduce’ myself. I need to know if I can still read him.

“If he’s held this anger for so long… I won’t be able to take it. I will run. I must… but I can’t have him cast me away again. Excuse yourselves for a ‘mistake’ and come find me. If not… then please direct him to me. I’ll wait somewhat in the mist veil.”

Regardless of what was to happen, the girls would rather have had Schnee stay and fight this one last battle, if it ever came to that.

But, silently, all three Crusaders shared a look of understanding. Schnee wanted to compromise on this, and it was not like they could physically restrain her.

They would accomodate and hope for the best.

Sweetie Belle nodded, as did her partners in crime.

“Okay. We’ll go first.”

Though Schnee felt shame for such a request, that same warmth welled up in her cheeks, and her heart rate calmed down in the figurative, comforting hooves of her younger friends. Her gratitude would forever be more than they knew.

“Thank you, meine Lieben. This means so much to me…”

Apple Bloom raised a tentative hoof in inquiry:

“Erm… just one thing, hun. What’s yer dad’s name?”

“Ah, yes… his name is ‘Haubitze.’ Haubitze Herbstlicht. But please, address him as ‘Herr Herbstlicht.’”

Scootaloo, determined as always, nodded once and smirked.

“You got it. We’ll be right back.”

Forming a trio with Sweetie Belle at the center, the three synchronously made their way up the walkway, and climbed the single stare that led them to that plain, wooden front door of Schnee’s former home.

And in the spirit of time, Sweetie Belle gave one last glance to her friends on either side of her for moral support, then lifted her hoof and delivered three purposeful knocks to the door.

Those heavy knocks seemed to echo through the modest-sized house, and the misty environment did not bode well for anypony, if clichés were to be adhered to.

The girls’ own confidence waned a tad when they heard an unlatching… and their wide eyes, wide with uncertainty for everypony involved, watched as the door swung inward. Light gradually creeped into the oddly dark room ahead.

Then, he emerged.

A stallion with a faded-white coat poked his head outside tentatively, and the Crusaders saw that what was once a jet-black mane much like Schnee’s had grayed with time, leaving only rivulets of darkness as a relic of his past youth. His build—easily larger and more muscular than the average stallion likely due to his past soldiery—showcased somepony who was certainly not that old, perhaps in his late fifties.

But his face… his face seemed to age faster than the rest of his body. His emerald eyes were hollow and were fraught with a sorrow that seemed to have never abated with the passage of time. Wrinkles framed his mouth like dried up riverbeds from history. Still, his angular jawline showcased somepony who still had some semblance of waning youth.

And his entire posture was sullen. He looked weak.

Anguished.

He had given up.

The stallion’s attention then fell upon the group of three standing directly in front of him, and—ascertaining no threat—stepped further into the misty light.

His greeting sounded of somepony who was tired… both physically and mentally. Yet, his eyes appeared to light up a smidge at the sight of the impressionable young mares before him.

“Hallo, Kleinen… Kann ich euch helfen?”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both settled their own gazes on Sweetie Belle… who was the only pony out of the three of them that had any semblance of a grasp of the Alemaneian language.

The ball now rested with Sweetie Belle… and she knew now that this was a small language test.

Thusly, with far from a native accent, she returned the greeting:

“G-Guten Morgen. Es… es tut mir leid, aber… sind Sie Herr Herbstlicht?” she inquired on his identity, just to make sure that the ball was rolling.

And thankfully, it looked like he didn’t notice a shy Schneeblume behind them… yet. And neither did they hear any hoofsteps from her running away.

He cocked his head, and his ears righted at the sudden mention of what was clearly his surname by ponies he didn’t know.

“Ja…” he nodded slowly, and raised an eyebrow. “Kenn’ ich euch?”

And in Sweetie Belle’s heart, she knew this was the time.

“No sir, you don’t know us… but we tagged along with someone whom you might…”

Sweetie Belle stepped aside, and both Scootaloo and Apple Bloom heeded her steps in kind. The former gestured back towards the walkway, so Schneeblume and her father could have complete visibility of each other.

Their eyes met.

Lavender and emerald locked intensely with one another, though Schneeblume eventually shied her gaze away and timidly crossed her left front leg over her right. What little innocence remaining she claimed to have shown through like a strobe light.

Their shared, fixed stare seemed to last a small lifetime.

As for the stallion, his jaw slackened, and his eyes dilated almost comically. However, there was no comical aspect of his suddenly righted posture and shaky words:

“S-Schneeblume?!” he dared to incredulously question with barely a whisper, reaching a hoof out.

Schnee didn’t even get a chance to answer, as Haubitze barged past the Crusaders, negating their distance in fractions of a second and stood directly in front of her. Though he was taller, he lowered his head a tad to be at eye-level with her.

“Please… is it really you?!” he asked, desperately. His eyes wavered, and shone of a stallion who was done with false hopes, and needed one last reassurance of reality.

Schneeblume, with her right eye partially hidden by her flowing mane, met Haubitze’s eyes, and a familiar twinkle on her face that seemed so familiar, yet different in the keenest of ways told him all he needed to know.

The tiniest of smiles creased her muzzle.

“Hi dad…”

And with those words, Haubitze’s lips began to quiver, and his blinking became much more rapid as his mouth fought to out some semblance of a response.

Schnee herself braced herself for anything. She could not read past the dumbstruck complexion of her father, and things could go fairly poorly at any moment.

Then, Haubitze clenched his eyes shut and lunged forward, throwing both of his front legs around her neck and pulling her tightly against him…

...and he began sobbing.

The tears overflowed entirely and streamed down his cheeks like a destroyed faucet as he buried his face in his long-lost daughter’s mane. He cooed her name over and over again as if it would heal every wound in his heart.

And after being embraced so warmly by her father for the first time in over eight years, Schneeblume pulled him just as tightly to her and bore no shame as she, too, wept. Through tightly shuttered eyes and bared teeth, their shared cries of such pain… such anguish, rue, and sorrow were unabashedly spilled.

The Crusaders were not spared dry eyes in the slightest, either.

Haubitze inhaled painfully and uttered after a couple good minutes:

“I thought you were killed… Oh god I thought you were buried in the fields…”

Schneeblume held onto him tighter, if that were even possible, and sniffled harshly at his words.

“No… I lived. Through all four years. And I’m back…”

Haubitze kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so so  sorry for everything I’m a failure of a father! I love you so much, my little flower!”

Schneeblume pulled back and—with watery eyes that held all the love in the world—shook her head at her distraught father. She placed her right hoof on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Papa… but none of that now, please…”

Haubitze winced at her touch.

“Darling your hoof is so cold, why—”

He froze when he took Schnee’s hoof into his grasp and found cold ceramic in its place with a somewhat jagged, slanted faultline where prosthetic precisely met her skin and coat.

A perfect mold of what once was her hoof. But now, unfeeling. Cold.

Haubitze retched… flinched and recoiled in his stomach as if he was struck.

Schnee commented with no small modicum of disgrace:

“I survived. But only just. I’m… I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

Haubitze cradled her ceramic hoof in his own, gingerly stroking it as his face became impossibly more wracked with heartache and grief at the revelation. His tears fell in heavy droplets to the walkway whilst he shook his head disbelievingly.

“No… no no no no…”

All the while, he met the top of her hoof with his forehead, pressing himself against her to feel just how cool to the touch her hoof was… the same hoof he held when he would take her out and about around the town. The same hoof on which she took her first step as a filly.

A casualty of war.

His tears smeared on her smooth prosthetic, and he delivered a single kiss unto it.

Schneeblume’s heart tore in two at the sight, and it was futile to stem the flow of the cascading rivulets from her eyes.

“Dad… Papa… it’s okay,” she assured him, letting Haubitze pay his reverence to her wound. “The medics saved me. A-And the surgeons fixed me up good! I was lucky I didn’t die that day.”

Eyes reddened painfully from his crying, Schnee’s father looked up at her from his hunched positioning.

“How?”

“A grenade.”

“Where?”

“Seele,” she answered.

The infamous final battle. It still didn't diminish the crippling pain in his heart. There was no answer he could come up with that would have alleviated anything for either of them.

Haubitze was suddenly aware that they had an audience, and he glanced over his shoulder at the Crusaders who were watching the wholesome spectacle. All three had been shamelessly shedding their own tears at the beautiful sight. Scootaloo had tried to cover this up, but was ultimately unsuccessful.

He turned back to Schnee.

“Let’s go inside. Please?”

It had been an interesting day for the Crusaders, that was for sure.

A moment ago, they bore witness to one of the best things that could have ever happened to Schneeblume. A sight they would never forget.

And barely a few minutes later, they found themselves sitting on an ultra-soft sofa with Alemaneian cookies served in front of them on a coffee table.

Weirder things have happened after all.

Still, even though the sweets were indeed delicious—some of the best they had ever had, even back in Equestria—it still did not detract from the somewhat awkward silence that pervaded the foreign family room.

Well, awkward for the three of them at least.

A less awkward silence had been established between Schneeblume and Haubitze, as was to be expected.

Still, they sat across from each other, neither of them speaking, but relishing in each other’s company after so long. It appeared that the color had returned to Haubitze’s face, and his expression was no longer sullen. His emerald eyes had a spark in them that had previously died out.

As for Schnee, none of the Crusaders had ever seen her so… giddy. So childlike.

They were content to sit in silence, though. They were there mainly for moral support, anyway.

Schneeblume’s voice cut through the aforementioned silence:

“Girls… I truly hate to do this, but would you mind giving me a few moments with my dad alone? My room is down the hall. Feel free to rummage through everything you see there. Any clothes or… really anything you find there, is yours to keep.”

All three Crusaders smiled as they moved off the sofa. To them, their work had already been done. It was time for Schnee to do the rest.

“Absolutely!” Sweetie Belle assured. “Come on girls, let’s check out her room.”

“I call first dibs!” Scootaloo tore past and galloped down the hall.

“Oh no you ain’t!” Apple bloom cried, hot on her tail.

Sweetie rolled her eyes and addressed a clearly amused Haubitze.

“Sorry… please excuse us.”

The patriarch was more than accommodating, just happy to have life back in his abode once more.

“No problem at all. Thank you.”

And with that, Sweetie Belle took her leave after her friends, and made sure to close the door behind her once she had found her destination down the hall.

Schneeblume turned to face her father again, whose eyes still watered with barely briddled happiness at her mere presence.

And his smile… one which was sparing and fleeting ever since her mother died, was contageous even for Schnee, who had no such shame in letting more tears spill over and down her cheeks.

“Sorry…” Schnee said before wiping her face with her left hoof and sniffling.

Haubitze, however, would have none of that.

“No. I’m the one who should be sorry, darling… for being a terrible father to you,” he said.

Schnee reached forward and placed her left hoof on her father’s.

“Dad, please… we don’t need to answer to the past. Things were said and… let’s not talk about that right now, or just yet at least. I just want to be here with you. We can atone later, I promise.”

Never breaking eye contact with his daughter, Haubitze rotated his hoof and held on tightly to Schnee’s. Eyes still misty and his cheeks stained accordingly, he chuckled in reminiscence.

“Your mother would always tell me the same thing when I’d bring up the past.”

He smiled warmly as he angled his gaze elsewhere for a moment.

“She would always nudge me in the side and jokingly pester me. She’d tell me ‘Haubie! You’re being a plunger again… bringing up old shit!’”

“PFFFT!” Schneeblume had to react quickly to cover her mouth with her right hoof.

But it was no use, as one of the most genuine laughs tore free from her mouth from the depths of her soul. One that was shared with her father in earnest.

Schneeblume wiped her eyes and blinked.

“That sounds exactly like something mom would say.”

Haubitze’s smile waned only slightly, even through his remnant chuckling.

“I never told you… did I?”

Schnee cocked her head to the right.

“Told me what?”

“How your mother died.”

Schneeblume recoiled about an inch and blinked. Hard. That was certainly not one of the topics she expected to come out of her dad’s mouth.

She shook her head.

“No, you never did, even when I asked. You always avoided the question or gave me a vague roundabout answer. I figured you had your reasons, though I would eventually like to know… for closure.”

Haubitze nodded a couple of times.

“Frühling was also a soldier. Like me, and later, like you.”

Schnee’s eyes irised wide in disbelief.

“What??”

“You never knew, did you, darling?” Haubitze followed up after sipping some tea he had off to the side.

Schnee looked to the floor and shook her head. This was all news to her.

“How did… why didn’t either of you tell me that??”

“Me being a soldier was not possible to hide. I would have if I could. But if knew both of us were soldiers, you were so much more likely to enter the service when you came of age…” he explained.

And shook his head.

“I didn’t want you following in my hoofsteps. And neither your mom nor I wanted you to follow in hers.”

Schneeblume flicked her eyes back up to meet her father’s, and he could easily read through her exterior.

“Obviously this didn’t prevent that. Partly why I… lashed out eight years ago,” he admitted shamefully.

Schnee opened her mouth to say something else but Haubitze beat her to it:

“After I got home from my war against the Prench, I told myself that I would never settle down with a soldier mare. I lost too many ponies close to me to ever want to go through that with somepony I loved.

“But…” he continued. “The heart wants what it wishes, regardless of what the brain often wills.”

Schneeblume leaned forward with rapt attention. While pang deep down in her gut demanded she be more that a little peeved at not being told these details, the reasons were slowly panning out.

“You met mom shortly afterward, didn’t you?”

Haubitze nodded once, deeply.

“That I did. In walks this gorgeous mare when I was visiting with family at the local tavern. I knew the moment I lay eyes on her in that spring dress, that I had to have her…”

Schneeblume had no control over the stupid, cramped smile on her face.

“Awww. Never knew were such a sap!”

He was willing to play along.

“Your father was capable of many miracles back in his day. Many mares would agree…”

It was Schneeblume’s turn to retch.

“Okay let’s not discuss that!”

“You’re no fun…” he teased. “But yes. Turns out Frühling was also a soldier in the Alemaneian Border Corps.”

Schnee’s eyes sparkled.

“She was a border guard??”

“Indeed she was,” Haubitze affirmed.

Schnee sunk back into her chair in bewilderment. Suddenly things made so much more sense.

“That’s why she would leave on extended ‘business trips!’”

“I was worried you’d figure it out when you were a filly,” her father admitted. “You were too smart for your own good sometimes.”

And that’s when Schnee’s answer she was seeking clicked in her head.

“She… Mom. I remember mom never came home one time. You told me there was an accident in Siegstadt. That was a lie wasn’t it?”

Haubitze opted to just stare at Schneeblume as she began to rationalize and formulate the correct answer.

And her voice was much softer this time:

“She was killed in a border incident, wasn’t she?” she finally wagered.

“Now you know,” Haubitze answered plainly.

Though Schnee opted to remain silent and reflect on this, Haubitze had some words laced in no immeasurable amount of pain:

“I can’t tell you how many arguments I had with her… begging her to take her familial discharge. I begged her to stay every time she was called up. I couldn’t lose her.”

Another tear rolled down his cheeks at the memory.

“But curse that mare… she loved her country and her job. My worst nightmare came when I was given the news. Her body was unrecoverable.”

His words grew ever more shaky yet confident all the same.

“I… lost so much during the war. But I truly lost my life that day.”

Oh how Schneeblume could relate. She felt a longing for her mother that she had never felt before.

“You have her eyes. Those bright, lavender eyes. I knew from then that I would be a better father to you. You would want for nothing and I would care for you and love you until my dying breath.

“Twelve years later, you came home in the Alemaneian uniform.”

Schneeblume remembered that day vividly.

“I saw your mother that day. In you. Those eyes burned with a patriotic fervor and lust for adventure that only I had seen in Frühling. And…

“I snapped. I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose what part of her I had left in you, either. That’s why I said the things I said that day. Words I regret to this day.”

Schnee’s mind was awash with understanding. Everything, for once in her life, began making sense.

Haubitze’s words refused cease:

“You marched to war. I read every single letter you wrote to me… but I was too much of a pussy to write you back.

“I scoured every single casualty list that came through. Especially the list of the dead. My heart would stop every time I saw a ‘Schneeblume.'”

“Papa…” Schnee started, reaching a tentative hoof forward.

Fresh tears poured down his face.

“Then, your letters stopped coming. And the casualty lists became more and more unreliable. I thought you were lost. And then for four more years… nothing. I was sure you were dead.

“And the last thing I had ever told you was me disowning you. When I accepted the fact you died, I never felt more like a worse, failure of a stallion in my life.

“I was alone. Rightfully so.”

Schneeblume cut in. She couldn’t bear to see her father like this, and she knew the proper solution. But first there was some order of business to take care of:

“You’re not alone. And you never will be again. Because I forgive you. Your daughter still loves you. She always has,” she finished with a warm smile

A dopey smirk wormed its way onto Haubitze’s face.

“After everything… you truly are your mother’s loving spirit. It may be a little late, but I’d love the chance to be a better father to you. And to make up what I can.”

And Schnee was afforded the opportunity to propose what she wanted to:

“Come with me, then.”

Haubitze cocked an eyebrow.

“Huh? Where?”

“Equestria.”

“Is that where you’ve been since the war ended?” he asked.

Schneeblume nodded vehemently.

“Yes! Those teenagers in my room right now were the ones responsible for… this right now. I moved to Equestria to get away from it all after I healed…”

It was Schnee’s turn to talk. And talk she did. She told her father her entire story about the end of the War, her move to Equestria, and her fateful meeting of the Crusaders. She went into painstaking detail of how they changed her life in all the best ways… even going as far as to say how they saved her life, and brought her back from the darkness.

And how in the end, all she wanted to do was sell beautiful flowers to ponies.

“After so much…” Haubitze finally voiced after staying silent for so long. “After all this time, you find beauty in the simplest of life’s pleasures. I always knew you would be a wonderful mare. You still manage to inspire me after all this time. You have your mother to thank for that one,” he chuckled.

“No,” Schnee replied. “I have both of you to thank.”

“I trust Equestria has treated you well?” he ventured to ask, just to be sure.

“It had a somewhat rocky start but… it’s truly home now. I have a life there, with wonderful friends. Many of them other veterans of the war who wished to escape.

“And I’d love for you to be apart of that life. Come back home with me… with us. You have a house with me, and an entire land to explore with some of the friendliest ponies in the world.”

Haubitze sat unblinking for a while, reflecting on Schneeblume’s offer which did little to help settle the latter’s nerves on the proposition.

The wide smile, however, did wonders.

“Would you mind fetching your three young friends for me? I wish to speak with them…”

Schneeblume blinked, a smidge worried.

“Is… something wrong?”

“Not at all, darling… I just wish to… properly thank them.”

A wave of fondness crossed Schnee’s features, and she smiled warmly at her father. After hyping up how much the Crusaders played a role in her healing and development after the War, it appeared that those words weren’t lost on her father.

“Sure… I’ll be right back,” she said, and hoisted herself up off her chair.

“Hey girls?” she called down the hallway. “Could you come out here for a moment?”

“Yeah! Coming!”

A few moments passed and the three Crusaders emerged once more, and upon seeing the three of them, Haubitze loosed a fond smirk of his own.

“What’s up, Schnee?” Scootaloo asked as they congregated in front of her.

The Flower Mare gestured to the couch where they were once sitting.

“Dad would like to say something to the three of you.”

Sweetie Belle flicked her gaze between Haubitze and the empty couch, but figured there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t like they were ransacking Schnee’s room, after all…

“Sure!”

The three fell into quick step and took their seats once more.

Once they were nestled properly, Schnee also took her seat back, facing them, and Haubitze, curiously, got up from his.

With a purpose and an airiness in his steps, he strolled over to one of the many bookcases that lined the walls of the Herbstlicht household living room. Upon one of the ebony wooden shelves was a single, innocuous-looking wooden box.

The patriarch swiped the box from the shelf and brought it back to the coffee table where he silently lay it atop with a gentility one might show an infant.

“You three…” he suddenly addressed in heavily accented, borderline broken Equestrian, which shared the same language as Anglomaneia.

And that certainly got their attention, as well as colored Schneeblume most interested.

“I…” he began after opening the mystery box. “...I do not believe I heard your names properly?”

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle questioned, then it registered. “Oh… oh! Right, I’m Sweetie Belle!”

“Apple Bloom, sir!”

“And I’m Scootaloo.”

Once brief introduction was over with, Haubitze smirked.

“Beautiful names… Beautiful names,” he repeated as he dug through his little chest, attempting to find one very specific thing he was looking for.

“But…” he began anew. “I w-wanted… to thank you three personally.”

Apple Bloom was most curious.

“Fer what, sir?”

Right then, Haubitze found what he was looking for. The light that reflected off of the golden structure glinted off of his emerald eyes. He scooped up what appeared to be a seven-pointed star medal, made entirely of gold with a bright, engraved emerald in the center.

Schneeblume’s jaw hit the floor when her eyes lit up with utmost familiarity.

“Papa what’re you doing? Do you need me to translate?” she inquired on his actions.

He merely waved her off with a smile. He had this.

“This… m-medal. Here,” he showed everypony in the room, and let the star hang from its sash.

Haubitze then trot over to the Crusaders as he eyed his award nostalgically.

“This was given zu mir—ehm, to me when I served im mein… my kr—ach…”

Only partially defeated despite his valiant struggle with a non-native language he had very little experience with, he reluctantly turned back to his daughter:

“Wie sagt Pony ‘Krieg’ auf Änglisch?”

Schneeblume replied:

“War.”

He nodded in thanks.

“...in my war. Dies—This medal was for b-bravery und ext… ext…”

“Extraordinary…” Schnee helped him.

“...extraordinary acts b-beyond duty to country,” he finished.

All three Crusaders listened raptly whilst their eyes lay on the medal, unsure of his intents.

“Y-You three have been amazing friends to Schneeblume here… but m-more than that, y-you three have gone beyond the duty of bravery und friendship…

“...and brought my daughter back to me. From the dead.”

Despite Schee’s hoof against her lips, she couldn’t stem the tide of a fresh wave of tears.

“This medal is yours now… und ich—I am eternally grateful, as ein father…”

And with great pride in his eyes, he handed the three of them the medal. Out of respect for the offer, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom—eyes wider than they had ever been—took the medal in their combined hooves together to inspect.

It was gorgeous. Brilliant. Beautiful. And though all three of them felt honor well up inside them to the point where they would likely burst, another one was equally fighting for dominance in their hearts should they have decided to accept it right then: guilt.

“Sir… we can’t… this is priceless,” Sweetie Belle offered resistance immediately. This was too much for a simple act of friendship.

Haubitze stifled any talk with a single raise of his hoof.

“Nein…” he shook his head with a prideful smile. “You three are w-worthy of this more than I ever was, or ever will be…

“Also, as a token of mein gratitude. You three have helped me as well, more than you know.”

“And thus concludes the exchanging of the vows of one of the most unique weddings I have ever had the honor of officiating...” a visibly ecstatic Princess Luna’s voice loomed from behind her podium over the enormous procession in Ponyville’s lush, green fields just outside the town proper.

Everypony who was invited had come in their most formal attires that they possessed, and there was nary a frown to be seen in the sea of ponies sitting amongst the wind whipped locks of the grass.

However, most curiously, two ponies in particular forwent appropriate attire for the occasion.

Namely, one Alemaneian mare and one Anglomane stallion, with the former garbed in her neatly washed and pressed Stormtrooper’s uniform, and the latter clad in his equally spotless fusilier’s uniform. Both helmets were shined to perfection and repainted with the traditional colors, and they both glinted in the bright spring morning.

They were the bride and groom.

Schneeblume’s mane flowed beautifully down and under the back of her sloped helm, and interwoven throughout its entirety were little blue flowers of her choosing. Her face was dolled up with extra makeup, eyeliner, and just a hint of blush that made her feel like one of the luckiest and most beautiful mares in all of Equestria.

As if she wasn’t beautiful or something.

But that artificial blush did little to hide her natural one every time she glanced over at Tea Leaf, who would return her smile with the utmost spark of love in his eyes… eyes that were no longer so hollow with the horrors of Equidae.

After years of finally acquiescing to their feelings, he still managed to get her ‘warm under the helmet,’ as their endearing expressions came to be.

Schneeblume glanced to her right, and found her three mares of honor: Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo.

All three were dolled up in their own ways, though with matching lavender dresses that matched the bride’s eyes to perfection.

Schnee tossed a glance backward and found who she was looking for right in the front row of the procession:

Haubitze Herbstlicht, dressed up in his ceremonial blue Alemaneian Confederation uniform, sat stary-eyed and proud. Unbelievably, ever since they were reunited, he seemed to reverse his aging, and looked younger than before! His sullen, sunken posture was completely eradicated.

He met Schnee’s gaze with a profound nod. She had done well, in his eyes.

And in that momentary glimpse, Schneeblume was able to see the crowd that had gathered. Other than all of her friends (which was most of Ponyville anyway), the remainder was filled in by veterans from Equidae… veterans of all nations.

“...and thus forth, by all power vested within me,” Luna continued, pausing for dramatic effect.

“I now pronounce you both… husband and wife!”

Tea Leaf and Schneeblume turned their uniformed bodies excitedly to one another, painful smiles spanning their faces.

“You may kiss the bride!”

This was the moment that the two were waiting for. The final, single act that would solidify their union and symbolize not just the love they had for one another… but symbolize a healing rift between once-bitter enemy nations.

And as they leaned into each other and prepared to meet their lips in a kiss that would mean so much, Schneeblume couldn’t wait to see what awaited them for the—

*CLUNK!*

Their advance was stopped cold when Tea Leaf’s wide-brimmed helmet smacked squarely into the ‘forehead’ of Schnee’s helmet. Both sets of eyes went wide and they both jumped, startled. The act, however, was completely noticed by everypony in attendance and earned them jovial laughter and applause.

Bride and groom had to control themselves lest they, too, began rolling on the floor at the ridiculous display. Not even Princess Luna was immune, and she had to retain some level of dignity with a hoof over her muzzle.

Schneeblume playfully rolled her eyes.

“Such an inefficient helmet design… when will you Angies ever learn, hmm?” she stated so pointedly, then fluttered her eyelashes.

Tea Leaf was never given a chance to rebut with banter of his own as Schnee placed her right hoof behind his neck with a devious smile.

“Allow me…” she boldly declared, then tilted his helmet back, which allowed her to smash her lips against his.

The entire reception erupted in deafening applause, in which the Crusaders and Haubitze gladly took part.

And as Schneeblume separated from her husband and looked upon the sea of ponies cheering her and Tea Leaf on, she reflected upon her life up to this moment with a prideful, excited, shining smile on her mug.

It had been twelve years since she marched to war. It had been eight years since it ended and became the shell of the pony she once left as.

Through no easy feats with the help of the Crusaders—who had flocked to her side once the kiss had been final—she had managed to claw her way back from the depths of hell, and return not just as a wounded pony… not even just as a better and stronger pony…

...she rose up and stood proud. She stood tall and mighty as an Alemaneian veteran that was a new pony altogether.

Equidae claimed many lives, and claimed much more than many were willing to admit to anypony, but Schneeblume knew now that it did not have to claim her, or anypony who lived.

Her past defined her in many respects, but Schneeblume was no longer content in letting it control her.

In one sense, her life did end. Not during the War… but during her time in Ponyville in the company of amazing friends she felt blessed every day to have met.

And that was okay.

Because for the Flower Mare, a new life had already bloomed. A life of reflection of the realities of the past and how it affected her. A life of love from the friends she made, as well as her new husband.

And ultimately, a life of peace.