//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Defender of Justice, King Sombra! // by VashTheStampede //------------------------------// The tent itself was designed for one pony to sleep in, and as such, was rather cozy when occupied by two. Add to that the fact that Sombra was a rather larger-than-average stallion, and avoiding physical contact had rapidly gone from awkwardly difficult to accepted as impossible. Eventually, the pair had fallen asleep back-to-back, pressed against one another, blushing furiously. Sombra awoke the next morning feeling much better. Miss Redheart had some food to offer him, even if it wasn’t much, and she had treated his ankle as best she could. She was a very nice pony, and Sombra liked her. Maybe she could be the first real friend he’d had in over a thousand years. He still thought it was forward for her to have one of her forelegs wrapped over his shoulder with her stomach pressed into his back. Regardless, given the current state of his voice, he was unwilling to speak – especially as a way to wake somepony up. This being the case, Sombra lay, still as he could be, hoping the kindly nurse would wake up and remove herself soon. Not that he minded the physical contact – it was the first he’d felt in a millennium, and it was so… kind, even if it was unconscious. He just had a sense of foreboding, that what happened when the nurse woke up would be unpleasant if this was the situation she found herself in. Sombra was right. He heard a cute yawn behind him and felt her nuzzle the back of his neck, for just a moment, before the movement stopped short. Suddenly the contact of her stomach was gone, replaced by two points of pressure that were obviously hooves. She pushed against him, rolling him over to face her. “What did you do to me? What did we do?” She growled, raising a hoof to smack the black stallion. Sombra’s only vocal response was a terrified squeak, followed by raising his forehooves in front of his face defensively and bracing for impact. “What did we do?” Nurse Redheart repeated, her left forehoof raised to deliver the slap of the decade to the stallion she had met last night. The stallion I so blindly trusted… Daring to open one eye, Sombra peeked around his hooves, seeing that the furious white mare was staying her hoof, at least for a moment. She barked the question again. Oh, she thinks we… I would never! Well, as I am. I might have a century ago… but no. This mare friendly, intelligent, and pretty. Wait… well, I shouldn’t deny that. Anyways, I would ne… oh goodness she’s going to hit me! Sombra’s eyes widened in terror as he thought out her question and the implications, and he wildly waved his hooves in front of him in a desperate attempt to convey that he hadn’t done anything. Nurse Redheart’s glare only hardened, and he felt the last walls break down. There, in a tent, before a mare not three-quarters his size and less than a hundredth his age, King Sombra began to cry. Not because he was afraid – well, not entirely – but because he knew that were he still the stallion he used to be, she would have every reason to be terrified that he had done something to her in her sleep. “I’m… I’m sorry…” he sobbed, burying his face in his hooves, instantly regretting speaking. His voice, the voice of a tyrant, only made him cry harder. Unknown to him, Redheart’s visage had softened, and she was having difficulty restraining her laughter at the sight of such an imposing unicorn bawling like a foal under her baleful glare. “Hey, hey, I should be apologizing. Your reaction alone tells me that not only would you feel awful if we had done something, you would have never tried it in the first place. I’m sorry for making assumptions. I must have rolled over onto you in my sleep,” Redheart explained, blushing a little. She gently pushed on Sombra’s shoulder, and he looked up to see her offering him a tissue. Gratefully taking it, the king wiped his eyes and blew his nose, returning it to the extended white hoof when it was offered. “Alright, well, chin up, sir. We’re going back to Ponyville today, we can figure things out for you from there,” this is a bad idea this is a bad idea this is a bad ide- “If worst comes to worst I suppose… you could maybe… stay at my place,” Redheart offered, refusing to meet Sombra’s eyes. Had she done so, she would have seen a look of joy not rivaled before or since. Hazarding a glance at him, she saw Sombra smiling and nodding. “Well, that’s good,” she continued, “Well, we were going to meet up with the colts’ camp in about an hour, then go home. Come on, you made a bad impression with the foals last night. Why don’t you help them get packed up for the trip home?” Sombra nodded enthusiastically, his smile growing. He stood up, careful to avoid tearing the tent with his horn, and walked out into the camp, through the tent flap Redheart held open for him. A dozen little fillies stared at him, wide-eyed. “I told you Miss Redheart brought her coltfriend,” a pegasus whispered to the earth pony next to her. “Miss Redheart doesn’t have a coltfriend!” “I thought she was dating Doctor Stable?” “Nuh-uh!” “How do you know?” “She would have told me!” “Why?” “…” “Well he is pretty handsome!” “Yeah, he looks big and strong, too!” “And he’s a unicorn! That’s so cool!” Sombra recoiled, mortified at the sudden analysis of his looks. He tried to step back, return to the tent, but a hoof around his neck caught him. He turned, only to find Redheart blocking his path. She winked at him and stepped forward. “See? She winked at him! He’s her coltfriend!” “Minty,” Redheart said, her voice that motherly tone that was simultaneously comforting and terrifying, “He’s not my coltfriend. This is the stallion some of you saw last night. He was hungry and hurt, so I offered him food and a sleeping mat. I’ve known him for about eight hours, seven of which I was asleep. His name is Sombra, and he is a unicorn, but he won’t do magic and he can’t speak. He’s very friendly, though, so, even if he can be a little scary,” she glanced back at Sombra, who smiled sheepishly, unintentionally revealing his fangs, “be nice to him and treat him just like you’d treat me, ok?” Nurse Redheart finished with a smile. As one, twelve fillies replied, “Yes, ma’am,” and turned to the stallion. “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Sombra!” Sombra smiled back, keeping his lips together, and nodded back to them, putting his head low to the ground. As he did so, one little filly dashed up to him, the one from the campfire the night before, and whispered into his ear. “You should totally ask Miss Redheart out on a date.” Sombra flashed from black to red in an instant, and the filly returned to her friends, giggling. The troop began to scatter, hastily disassembling their tents and rolling up their little sleeping bags. Sombra tried to help, he really did, but the filly-sized tents and such proved too small for his large hooves to handle properly. “Hey,” Redheart called over to him, as he fumbled with the straps on an earth filly’s backpack, “What did that filly say to you?” Sombra shook his head back and forth. “I know she said something. What did she say to you?” Redheart asked menacingly, taking a step forward. Another head shake, this time more emphatic, his black mane whipping in front of his eyes, as the two green orbs searched for any route of escape. When his eyes returned forward, Redheart was upon him. She has really pretty eyes. Sombra backed away slightly, shrugged, and began gesturing madly with his hooves, trying to convey body language gibberish in an attempt to dissuade the attractive – no, inquisitive – mare in front of him from getting an answer. He backed up further and put on a ridiculous smile, before turning and flourishing his forehooves in a ‘you get it, of course,’ motion. Redheart laughed at the inane display and decided to drop it, instead opting to help Minty stuff her sleeping bag into her backpack. Sombra, having resolvied to not be entirely useless, he trotted slowly over to the foals, staring at the ground hard. There! Ha! I can do something! Sombra ran to the glint he noticed, picked it up. A candy wrapper. Foul garbage, I shall not allow you to destroy this ecosystem! A glance to his right. Nor you, empty plastic water bottle! Left. You cannot escape me, crumpled paper! Several minutes later, the king had declared himself the designated garbage pony of the campsite, and was collecting and bagging any waste the campers had left over from their stays in their tents. Nurse Redheart had to laugh at his appearance – the stallion had two trash bags balanced precariously on his back, and a third wedged in the crooks of his legs. Sombra took notice of her laughter and looked over, before realizing that it must have been how ridiculous he looked. He chuckled a little himself, a deep, rolling half-laugh half-growl that came out all weird. His face fell at the sound. So did the trash bags. Before the gray plastic sacks could fall to the ground and reset his hard work, hooves caught the bags and steadied them. Once he was certain his balance was back, he looked over to nod his thanks to the kind pony who had helped him. He found himself staring into the most well-muscled neck, chest, and, well, pony he had ever seen. There were not many ponies Sombra had had to look up to make eye contact with. Because I had them all executed… The hulking white pony looked down at Sombra with a crooked smile, his earrings catching in the morning sunlight. Sombra, even if he had allowed himself to speak, could not have found words to convey his feelings at the moment. Everything about this newcomer scared him, most likely mostly from being so completely out-sized. I really am not comfortable with ponies being bigger than me. “Snowflake! Where have you been? You were supposed to be here an hour ago! You didn’t take the colts to Ghastly Gorge again, did you?” “Yeah I did! And there weren’t any casualties this time.” Casualties? Sombra thought in alarm. “Who’s this guy?” ‘Snowflake’ asked, jabbing Sombra in the shoulder with a hoof. Sombra staggered to the side under the impact of the jab, and knew full-well that wasn’t all the force that could have been imparted to his shoulder. The trash bags threatened to topple once more, and the muscle-bound pony leapt airborne to steady them, his little wings buzzing furiously. He’s a Pegasus? How on earth does he fly? Those wings… “Snowflake, this is Sombra. He stumbled into the camp last night. He tries not to speak and he won’t use magic, but he’s very friendly,” Redheart explained. Sombra bowed his head and extended a hoof to formally meet ‘Snowflake.’ Instead, he found the trash bags weight lifted from his back, and was suddenly barreled over and pulled into what he could only describe as a ‘vicious’ hug. Sombra wheezed as the air was pressed from his lungs, and pounded fruitlessly against the larger pony’s sides in an attempt to break free before his ribcage collapsed. Sombra gasped in a deep, ragged lungful of air when Snowflake released him, the stars in his vision taking several seconds to fade. He looked up, expecting the Pegasus to be preparing to land the killing blow, and instead found the Pegasus smiling broadly. “You… you and I are gonna get along just fine. Not many ponies can take the full brunt of a Special Snowflake Hug,” he said, with a laugh that Sombra would have deemed ‘maniacal,’ yet everpony else seemed to consider ‘jovial.’ Sombra. You are changed. You are different. He… is different, too. He’s being nice to you… I think… so you should be nice to him. Don’t get mad, get glad. You have two friends now. That’s two more than you’ve had in the past twelve hundred years. Sombra decided to throw himself at Snowflake and return the hug with all the ferocity it had been given, which paled in comparison to the mauling Snowflake had delivered. Still, it seemed to impress the immense Pegasus, and he smiled back down at Sombra. “Oh yeah. I can tell. We’re gonna be real good friends. If my sister trusts you, anyways, which she does. If you don’t mind me asking, though, what, uh… what’s with your eyes?” Sombra hung his head and sighed, reaching for a stick to draw in the ground. “Hey, if you don’t want to say, that’s cool. Friends are allowed to not say things if they don’t want to.” He considers me a friend? “Hey, sis?” He’s her BROTHER? “Yeah, Snowflake?” Redheart called back. “Why don’t we get on our way home, now? My colts are getting antsy.” Redheart looked over. By ‘antsy,’ of course, Snowflake meant fighting and roughhousing. She didn’t care if they did it amongst themselves, for Celestia’s sake, it’s a bunch of young colts alone in the woods. What else would they do? But now they were just looking foolish in front of the fillies, so Redheart decided to do something about it. “Oi! Colts! Listen up! Single file, we’re heading home!” Redheart’s authoritative voice took every colt and stallion by surprise, with the exception of Snowflake, and suddenly Sombra found himself the leader of a string of little colts. A moment later, the one standing right behind him seemed to catch on that he had been at the camp for the fillies, and voiced his thoughts. “Hey, why were you at the fillies camp?” Yep. Clever one, he is. “He’s Miss Redheart’s coltfriend!” one of the fillies blurted out. Instantly, Snowflake’s head whipped around and his eyes locked on Sombra. The Pegasus’ disproportionately small wings buzzed to life, and suddenly he was right in the unicorn’s face. “I like you. You’re friendly. My sister likes you. You’re pretty good-looking to boot. But I swear to Celestia, if you hurt one hair on her head… I. Will. End. You. Got it?” Sombra nodded weakly. “Good,” he said, all trace of his intimidating glare from moments ago completely gone, “You can date her or whatever just don’t hu-” Redheart’s left forehoof was now in the space previously occupied by Snowflake’s head. “He’s not my coltfriend, Snowflake, and if you keep scaring off potentials like that I’m never going to move out and you’ll never get the house to yourself like you want! And I can handle myself!” That’s apparent, Sombra thought, glad he had been spared the slap earlier that morning. The foals laughed as the hilariously large stallion shook himself off from the blow. He watched Snowflake pick himself up and rub his cheek, chuckling. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, sis. That hoof of yours has gotten strong.” “It has to be with an over-protective goof like you for a brother,” Redheart retorted, laughing, “Come on kids, ready to go home?” “No…” they collectively groaned. Why wouldn’t they want to go home?