//------------------------------// // His Name is King // Story: King Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bon // by Fanon Canon //------------------------------// "King", though it made him privately grunt in disgust to think that he had been reduced to such a low position, seemed a serviceable enough alias to go under during his stay in this strange new realm. He much rather would have preferred to go by his actual name, despite understanding that it was not the best choice considering his surroundings. The defeat of Sombra, he imagined, was still fresh within several ponies minds, and despite his former urges, he really did not want to cause any needless panic until he was a little more familiar with this place. But "King". That had a strange but alluring simplicity to it. It was not exactly a big departure from Sombra, but it still had authority to it. Maybe he would grow to like it in time. It was certainly a little more refined than "Sweetie Drops". "Here we are." She announced upon the pair of them entering her residence. "Please, try and make yourself at home." Sweetie Drops altered between dancing about King and her place, her eyes darting to and fro with her face varying between expressions of concern and slight panic. King barely paid her any attention, however, for he was immensely curious with this strange new place he found himself in. "Please, sit." Sweetie requested politely, gesturing with a hoof to one of her many objects that looked like they were supposed to be settled on. King did his best to try and please her, for the act of sitting seem quite alien to him, and he did not want to embarrass himself. Soon he managed to settle himself onto one of the bigger more comfortable looking cushiony contraptions. "Can I... get your cape?" He heard the mare offer. He looked up to find Sweetie Drops eyeing him with a doting look. Yet despite feeling a strange warmth when he found her gazing, he could not overcome the urge to part with his cape. King, being unable to properly express himself, shook quite bluntly. "Oh, alrighty then." Sweetie replied, still attempting to sound perky, though he could tell she was put off just a bit. "Can I get you anything to drink?" King grunted to himself, for there were many words associated with answering that question. Concentrating with all his might, he uttered a weak incoherent, but nevertheless understandable string of vocal display, courtesy of their prior session. "Surprise me." He went. At that, Sweetie Drops' eyes lit up with admiration. He supposed that if he was talking better, then she could feel accomplished in her work. "Alrighty then." She answered, composed with glee and pride. She left him there to busy herself in the kitchen. King took the opportunity to further examine this intriguing place. In comparison to his former residence he remembered residing in so long ago, it failed in size and splendour. But then again, there were no slaves to be found, which for one in his long life, felt like a good thing. In addition, he noticed the warmth in the air, courtesy of a nearby fire, where embers still struggled to burn bright. King did not remember any home before feeling so warm, he felt like he would have preferred the cold familiar crystal chill, but this had its benefits. He was unsure whether it was something to do with his little transformation a while back, or maybe as a result of being encased within ice for so long, but the chill of the cold was not as comforting as it had been. "Here you go." He heard Sweetie Drops' voice returning from the kitchen. She lay a silver plate on the table in front of the lounge he was... lounging on. Two mugs lay carefully atop, an unknown concoction brewing within. Sweetie took one within both hooves and carefully offered it to King, who struggled to take in in one hoof without knocking it out of her grasp. Soon, when they both held the mugs in a steady grip, he observed the drink contained within, and cast a look of caution in Sweetie's direction. "It's called hot chocolate." She guessed his look. "Not exactly healthy, but..." Raising it to her lips, she took a gracious mouthful. Drawing back, she swallowed with a strong look of satisfaction upon her face. King, taking heart, did the same, and was rewarded with a very new, but delicious enough mixture of chocolate that was indeed hot. They indulged one silently another in that activity for what seemed like a rather long time to King. It was a rather nice activity to keep himself busy, for he felt a great sense of comfort in occupying his mouth with the hot chocolate. It was better this way, at least he did not feel like he was wasting her time by simply sitting there with nothing to do, staring at her expectantly, and quite uncomfortably too. Occasionally he would glance in the mare's direction when he imagined she would not be looking, but he could only maintain his gaze for a brief second before she raised her head and he abruptly jolted his away. The hot chocolate would often look like a shelter each time he did that; something to hide behind. Though judging from the sounds he could faintly hear, he imagined that Sweetie was going through something similar. Her hooves mirrored his, the way she held her mug right up close to her face, obscuring it from view, as though she was equally afraid of him catching her staring like that. Eventually, as both soon dreaded, their hot chocolate soon ran out. King sipped the remainder of his with as much leisure as possible. He was not looking forward to what would come afterwards, and sincerely wished that she would finish first. Sweetie soon lifted her head from its hunched position over her mug, settling the little thing down on the table in front of them. She wavered for a bit, nervous he imagined of engaging him again, though she eventually found the words. "So, how was that?" She asked sincerely. Sometimes, King could swear to himself that she had forgotten that he was incapable of answering in a satisfactory way. Either that, or she was slowly prodding him at every opportunity in an attempt to get him to open up. The hot chocolate had rendered him somewhat sleepy and sluggish, finding words a difficult thing, so he simply presented his empty mug for her to see for herself. "Oh, glad to see you enjoyed it." Sweetie responded with a little enthusiasm, though still quite nervously. "So umm... are you tired? I know I am, it's been a long day." King responded the only way he could; by nodding his head in agreement. "Oh, okay then." She said. "Well then, how about you just stay right here, and I'll go get you a bed ready." Again, him nodding was her answer. "Oh, okay then." She responded breathlessly, before getting up from the lounge, picking up the plate with their mugs on, casting him one last nervous smile, before making her way back to the kitchen. The moment she had settled the mugs down and cleaned up, Sweetie frantically sped down the hallway towards her room. Upon entering, the first thing she did was to make sure towards the two beds and pull them apart. Why she had not thought to have done this sooner after her previous partner had made her intentions clear, she did not know. Maybe she simply did not have the time since it had only been a day, or maybe she was still in slight denial. At any rate, her attempts at performing that activity silently soon proved fruitless, and it was with much noise as the bed dragged along the floor before they were a respectable distance apart. The next thing she did was to make sure that there was no indication that her previous roommate had ever stayed in the same room. That did not take too long, as all she had to do was simply turn down a few nostalgia inducing photos before she could return to her guest. She found King sitting pretty much where she had left him, imagining him quite fearful of breaking anything. For the first time, she was grateful that he was without coherent speech, so he would not be one to question why she appeared to be a single pony with two beds. In another round of her attempting to sound amicable and inviting (and thus failing), she had soon led King into her bedroom. And after another spell of further pleasantries, they were finally ready to settle down for the night. "Well good night." Sweetie said, tucking herself under her covers and promptly lying quite still in a flash. King observed her laying there for a good while. It suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten that she had left in a bed out for him, glancing over to it standing there a respectable distance away from Sweetie’s. He trotted over to it and found himself strangely bewildered by this mundane object. How exactly did this process go down again, he thought to himself, deciding to take another look over at the mare, still lying under her covers with her back turned to him. Eventually, after the thought struck him that perhaps silently observing her sleep was a rather intrusive thing to do, King turned back to the bed in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly unravelled the covers, then lowered his stallion form onto the sheet. It was a little uncomfortable at first, likely due to the bed clearly not being made for somepony of his fit. Still, after some twisting and turning, King finally managed to get himself into a suitable position. And then… he simply lay there, waiting for the eventuality of sleep, hoping it would be brief. And on the bed to the right of him, Sweetie lay with an ear open, having listened to him struggle to get over the obstacle that the bed represented and eventually the relative silence as he lay still. A flutter of worry was about her as she listened, and she knew exactly what it was that was making her feel that way. For clearly, there was more to this stallion than meets the eye; some part of Sweetie Drops felt a giddy sort of curiosity at just what awaited her should she actually managed to cure him of his vocal difficulties. But another was apprehensive at discovering more about him, for there was something awfully strange about him, awfully… somber… But that was for another time, and right now all she felt like doing was putting a lid on her thoughts and simply drifting off for the peaceful sleep that awaited her, after what had felt like a very long day.