//------------------------------// // Chapter 19: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part V: The Honeymoon Is Over Now // Story: The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King // by TalonMach5 //------------------------------// The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King A Story by TalonMach5 Chapter 19: Something Old, Something New, The Blushing Bride, and Her Reluctant Groom: Part V: The Honeymoon Is Over Now She walked towards him boldly, as if she owned the place. Each step she took was designed to enflame the passions of her prey. Taking a provocative posture, she stood behind her target. “Hello, Master Second,” she said, her sultry voice oozed sensuality. She smirked when she saw him visibly jump from her unexpected intrusion. “What're you doing here?” he demanded, giving her hard pointed look. “The Slave King sent me to fetch you,” she said, presenting her curvy flanks for him to ogle. Second’s narrowed his eyes worriedly for a moment, before giving her a thoughtful look. “Did he say what about?” he asked, looking towards a pedestal holding several large gems. She languidly stretched her muscles, before offering him another sultry smile. “No,” she said, moving closer to him. “He just said it was important.” “Well, you’ve delivered the message,” he said, backing away from her. “You can go now.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Master Second,” she said. “The Slave King specifically asked me to escort you to his quarters. He mentioned something about some of his servants being untrustworthy.” “Is that so?” Second said, giving her a thoughtful look. “Does anyhound else know you came to get me?” When she heard the question, she gave Second a look of annoyance. “The Slave King expects discretion in his personal servants,” she said. “I would never betray his trust. I’ve told nohound else about his assignment.” “That’s good, um…” he said, fishing for the messenger’s name. “What did you say your name was again?” “I didn’t,” she teased, brushing her tail beneath his nose. “But if it pleases you, Master Second, I’m known as Chrysalis.” “You’re a little minx,” Second said, giving her a lusty look. “Oh, I try,” she tittered, bringing up a paw to her muzzle. “But I only live to serve. Can I serve you, Master Second?” Chrysalis’s invitation to fornicate, was exactly the opening he was looking for. He’d have his way with her, then strangle the life right out of her. It was a shame too, he was sure she would’ve offered him hours of entertainment. But such is life, he had a mission to complete, and he was nothing but a consummate professional. She shuddered as he touched her, for the second time in two weeks, she’d been mounted by a fellow changeling. She found the experience completely unfulfilling. At least with a nonchangeling, she would’ve gotten a bit of love to sate her appetite. But her partner didn’t even afford her that. Feigning pleasure at the faux Second’s touch, she cried out. “Now. Do it now!” Hearing the signal, Melody, Gunhilde, and Dame Squall approached the pair. Angered at their intrusion, Second glared angrily at them. “This is a restricted area!” he barked. “Oh really, Second?” Melody asked, wearing a bemused smile. “I don’t take orders from you. And whatever happened to you eye?” When he heard her mention his eye, he scowled. Stepping away from Chrysalis, Second backed away from them, and towards the pedestal behind him. “Melody, it’s unfortunate that you’ve decided to rebel against your betters,” he said, looking at the four of them darkly. “When the Slave King hears of your betrayal, I don’t know what he’ll say.” “There’s only one traitor here, and I’m looking right at him,” she countered, readying her magic. “Betraying our master to Lord Triton,” he said with a vicious laugh. “You should be ashamed.” “Shut up!” Melody demanded. “There’s no way he would take my word over yours. Besides, I have three witnesses.” “Coconspirators in your plot to betray the Slave King, no doubt,” he said, circling a nearby pedestal. “But your witnesses, can easily be remedied.” “Drop the act, whoever you are,” Gunhilde said, lowering her antlers. “We know you’re not Second.” Ever smiling the faux Second, gave the reindeer a smirk. “Congratulations, slave,” he said, clapping his paws together. “Whatever gave me away? Was it my chipper attitude, or perhaps my dashingly good looks?” “Reveal yourself, scoundrel!” Dame Squall demanded, holding her fins at the ready, and preparing to subdue him. “I think I’ll start by killing the reindeer first,” he said, pointing his claw at each of them. “Then the harper, followed by the bitch, and I’ll save the seapony for last.” The moment she heard his plans, Gunhilde decided to take matters into her own hooves. Releasing the magic she’s stored in her antlers, she released it all at Second in a flurry of silvery ice. The resulting look of frozen surprise on his muzzle was fitting, she thought. “You talk too much,” she derisively said to the block of frozen ice. “Lets move him to the dungeons, so the Slave king can deal with him later.” “Chrysalis, are you sure he was actually a changeling?” Melody asked, poking the block of ice thoughtfully. “I mean if that was the real Second, we’ll have some explaining to do.” “Oh, I’m certain,” she said, pointing towards his markings. “His markings are all reversed, as is his brand.” Before Melody could respond, they heard a large crack echo throughout the treasury. Turning around to check their prisoner, they were surprised to see Gunhilde’s icy prison in pieces. “Howz cleverz of youse,” a menacing voice said. “Meez gonna killz youse firstz.” “I know that voice,” Dame Squall said, immediately thinking of the changeling that had escaped her at Bone’s Landing. A pair of blue eyes peered out at her from the treasure pile, before revealing itself to be the selfsame changeling she’d fought alongside Dawson and Melody. With a chittering laugh, it buzzed its wings, leapt into the air, and left them behind it. “Come on everydeer, let’s stop him before he manages to escape,” Gunhilde said, leaping up into the air after it. Spying a trident resting on one of the pedestals, Dame Squall picked it up, and joined Gunhilde in the chase. Chrysalis for her part, picked up some hefty gems with her paws, and began lobbing them at the fleeing changeling. Seeing the others were being kept occupied, Harmony moved towards the pedestal the changeling had been next to. Examining the treasure it held, all she could see were six rather nondescript gems. They didn’t seem like anything special, in fact unlike all the other gems kept in the vault, they were rather remarkable, beyond the fact each was cloudy and dark in their interior. Reaching out to pick one up and examine it, she shrieked in pain as a painful bolt of energy hit her in the ribs. “Hands to yourself, Melody,” a voice instructed. Looking to see who it was that had attacked her, she was surprised to see a strange unicorn levitating the gems off the pedestal, and into a satchel he was carrying. “It’s a shame you didn’t join the others in chasing my double,” he said, with a vicious grin. “You might have lived a bit longer. I bid you adieu.” With a murderous smile, the unicorn thief launched a flurry of magical bolts at her. Trying to avoid the magical attack, Melody leapt to the side, screaming in pain as several of the bolts struck her. With a vicious chuckle the changeling turned unicorn, scrambled for the exit with no one the wiser. Narrowing her eyes in determination, Melody picked up a small gem, and threw it as hard as she could at the escaping unicorn. The gem sailed through the air, flying true towards its target. When it struck, the unicorn released a scream of pain, as it shattered against his horn. Immediately, the changeling illusion the others were following vanished. “Where did it go?” Gunhilde asked, trying to figure out what had happened to her quarry. “Secure the exits!” Melody shouted, trying to stay conscious through her pain. “It was a nothing but a dirty trick,” Dame Squall seethed, angry at having been so easily fooled, before heading towards the entrance to the aqueduct they had used to enter the vault. Spying a unicorn rubbing its horn gingerly, she held her trident aloft as she prepared to engage it in combat. “Stand down thief!” The unicorn, spying the angry chevaleresse rushing towards him with her weapon at the ready, shook his head. “How about no?” he said, trying to cast a spell at her. When nothing but a few magical sparks sputtered from his horn, he shot her a dirty look. “It looks like I’m going to have to get my hooves a bit dirty.” “Not if I beat you senseless first!” she cried out, happy for the chance to avenge her tarnished honor from their last encounter. “You know seapony, you’ve become a right pain in my neck,” he said, as he shifted his form. His body went translucent, and legs lengthened into transparent tentacles. “Let me return the favor.” “You!” she said, recognizing the ghast she’d fought to a standstill, before it ended up nearly killing her. “Oh, I see you recognize me?” he said with great amusement in his voice. Sending out his tentacles, he tried overwhelming her, so he could choke the life out of her. “Don’t worry, seapony, once I’ve killed you and your little friends. I’ll take care of your little coltfriend next.” “Don’t you dare!” she roared, trusting the trident at her foe. “You’ll not escape the Lawgiver’s justice.” At her threats, the ghast seemed nonplussed. Reaching out with all his tentacles, he wrested the trident free from her fin, and picked her up. Holding her aloft, the ghast looked at her menacingly. “Fool,” he said, as he slowly drained her life force. “I shall do the same to the griffin-half, taking your form. Think about that as you enter the Pit.” “You first!” Gunhilde shouted, throwing the discarded trident at the ghast’s bad eye.” When the trident made contact with the ghast, it let out a loud shriek. Dropping Dame Squall to the ground, it withdrew its tentacles, and began changing shape once more. Slowly its body coalesced and lengthened, large rune covered bones bursting out of its once transparent form into something monstrous. All along its body, green magic flowed, stopping at its skull’s empty sockets. The large dragon like skeletal construct rested its burning eyes at its prey, and offered them a toothy smile. Chrysalis dragged the unconscious Dame Squall to safety, as the changeling transformed into this new horror. “Tonight I shall dine on your flesh,” he said, flexing his claws. “I’d hoped to pin the theft on the seapony, and by extension Lord Triton. But you had to be uncooperative. I guess we can’t have everything we want, now can we?” Noticing her fear, Chrysalis pointed to Gunhilde’s brand. “Use what the Slave King gave you!” she ordered. “You have his power!” Gunhilde felt fear like never before as the skeletal monstrosity approached them. Accessing her brand, she was surprised to see the glowing ley lines of the Earth all around her. Drawing on its power, she commanded the Earth to protect them. The changeling turned dracoliche looked at his prey, bemused at their resistance. Normally those who had annoyed him, he’d make suffer. But tonight he was on a time table and couldn’t afford the delay, after all he still had to deal with Melody once he’d killed this rabble. Reaching forth his claws, he attempted crushing them beneath its great weight. When he failed to hear the satisfying crunch of their bones beneath his claw, he looked down and saw to his disappointment that he'd failed to be crush them. Looking down, he was annoyed when he saw his claw entangled in iron. With a slight chuckle, he touched the magical fire burning in his chest, and gave them a wicked smile. “Let’s see you escape my fiery breath,” he said, preparing to bathe them with his flames. “Not so fast, you slug!” Melody shouted, flying right towards him. “What the…?” the dracoliche said, confused and unprepared for her assault. “Hurry up, and get Dame Squall out of here!” Melody shouted to them, as she landed on his shoulder. “Why you little pest. I’ll kill you!” he shouted, trying to rake her with his free claw. “You have to catch me first!” Melody replied, sticking out her tongue at him. Spying the satchel attached to him, she sprinted towards it, and relieved him of it. “No!” the dracoliche howled, furious that she’d managed to take back the gems he’d stolen. Firing several blasts of flames at her, he roared as she managed to evade them, and only managed to hit himself. “You’re going to be in so much trouble, when King Daddy hears what you’ve been up to!” she said, taking flight down the aqueduct away from him. “No!” the dracoliche screamed, trying to follow after her. Unable to with its claw entangled, the changeling changed shape once more. Hearing the echoes of its fearsome roars, Dame Squall’s eyes fluttered open. She was being carried on Chrysalis’s back as they ran. “What happened?” she groggily asked. “No time to talk, busy running for our lives,” Chrysalis panted, as she ran as hard as she could. “Hurry! Melody shouted form behind them. “It’s on its way.” “We’ll never make it to the exit in time,” Gunhilde said, tapping into the Earth ley lines. She could see the exit up ahead, but also the changeling chasing after them. And it was moving faster than they were. “Can’t you do something to slow it down?” Chrysalis asked Gunhilde. “I’m not sure,” she said, unsure what she could do to stop it. “Maybe flood the aqueduct?” Dame Squall suggested. “My magic could protect us.” Using the magic bequeathed to her by the Slave King, she traced the ley lines until they intersected with those of the other domains. All she kept finding was fire, and though she was sure molten magma would stop their pursuer, it would also undoubtedly kill them. Then she found the key to their salvation, a water ley line. Though she wasn’t sure it would work, she went to work leading the water to them. “Any luck, Gunhilde?” Melody asked. “I’m not sure, the water’s so deep beneath us,” she said, trying her best to bring it to the aqueduct. “I have you now!” the changeling’s voice echoed from behind them. With a great burst, the changeling’s massive bulk surged forward, cutting them off from their escape and trapping them. Having dropped the dracoliche’s form, the changeling now wore the guise of a serpent. With a large forked tongue and curved fangs, it looked down at them menacingly. Gunhilde felt the water gushing past the ley lines she’d touched, and smiled confidently. "It’s working, get ready, Dame Squall,” she said, hoping the plan would work out. Feeling water pooling up at its scales, the changeling looked down as saw a small dribble of water pouring out from the long unused pipes. “What are you going to do, give me a bath?” he asked, with a mocking laugh. “Now hand over the satchel, and I promise to kill you quick.” “Never!” Melody defiantly shouted, throwing several fireballs at the serpent. When they struck him, the serpent snarled in pain over his singed scales. “How utterly pointless,” he said, wrapping his coils around them. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.” “I think not,” a voice echoed through the aqueduct. “Who said that?” he snarled, furious that he’d been discovered by someone else. Feeling the water beneath him starting to roil, he moved to grab the satchel containing the stones. “Don’t let him take the stones!” Melody heard somefeather whisper in her ear. Holding onto the satchel, she fought with the serpent as he tried pulling it free of her grasp. “Let go, damn it!” he growled, as she struggled against him. “Never!” she shouted, as he tightened his coils mercilessly around her. Before he could respond, he heard a rumble approaching them from behind. Turning to see what it was, he nearly lost his grip on his prey when he saw a wall of water approaching them. Redoubling his effort to reclaim the satchel from Melody’s grasp, he pulled as hard as he could. As they struggled against each other, neither of them noticed as the stitches holding it together began tearing. “Grab hold of me!” Dame Squall said, as the water rushed towards them. All four of them grabbed onto one another, right before the wall of water smashed into the serpent coiled around them. Melody felt her grasp on the satchel slipping, as the water hit them. Sensing her hold weakening, he redoubled his efforts, and gave the satchel one last tug. With a loud rip, the satchel split in two, sending the six gems it held flying into air. “No!” the serpent raged, furious at losing the gems. Letting them go from his coils, he began searching the rushing waters frantically, hoping to reclaim them from the furious torrent raging around them. Once they were freed from his grasp, the water’s current carried them away from the serpent to safety. The last thing they heard before the water over took them, was the frustrated screams of their foe having been denied his prize. ***** She wandered the twisting paths of the unfamiliar palace, desperately looking for him. He was wounded and hurt, and though she was unsure why, he was angry with her. She didn’t know the cause of his anger, and right now she didn’t care. All she desired was to see him protected and safe from further injury. I guess you don’t know your own strength, Luna, the voice whispered. Replaying the moment right before he cried out in pain, and limped away from her. Silence, Luna demanded, as worry for her husband raced through her mind. Did you see the fear in his eyes when he looked at you, the voice continued. What must he think of you now? Stumbling through the many passages blindly in her search for him, she nearly missed the bloody handprint on the wall. When she saw his black blood, her heart nearly broke. What did this to thee, husband? she wondered, imagining him laying against a wall, all alone and dying. What’s the matter, Luna, the Black? the voice asked. Afraid you won’t be there to finish him off? Nay, miscreant. Cease with thy slanderous and despicable insinuations, she demanded, as worry for her husband’s safety raced through her mind. Baseless? The voice bemusedly asked. You roughed up Lady Minoa when she angered you. Perhaps in your eagerness and arousal to enjoy your husband, you nearly broke him. We would never do such a thing, we love him, she protested, worried the voice was speaking the truth. What would the rest of the pantheon say should they discover what happened tonight? the voice theorized. What would Celestia think, when she learns what you’ve done to him? We’ve done nothing wrong, we art good and kind! Luna shouted, trying to drown out the accusations with the volume of her voice. We love him, we truly do! Poor unloved, Luna, the voice cooed in the back of her mind. Treated so unjustly by the others, not even your own husband cares for you. That’s why you hurt him, isn’t it? Silence! Luna cried out, as her eyes welled with angry tears. He does love us, he must. It’s not love he holds for you, only pity, the voice replied, seemingly relishing her pain. You saw reflected in his eyes the scorn he held for you. He hurt you badly, so you repaid the favor. We would never…. Luna protested, breaking down into tears, as she was unable to prove her innocence to the accusing voice. Part of her began wondering, had some unconscious part of her decided to hurt the Slave King for rebuffing her? It’s alright, sweet Luna, the voice said. Your secret is safe with me. He deserved it for jilting you on your wedding night, didn’t he? Luna said nothing, instead choosing to resume her search for her wayward husband. Spying a nearby stairwell, she noticed another bloody smear on the wall. He’d gone this way, she thought, anxiously climbing down the stairs after him. The sounds of her hooves against the stone steps, echoed through the stairwell, almost as if was the pounding of her own beating heart. She felt anxiety and worry for his wellbeing, and no matter what the voice claimed, she only desired to help rid him of whatever wicked curse had befallen him. She imagined herself rescuing him from the evil that possessed him, carrying him to their bed, where she’d stand guard as he slept. She’d nurse him back to health, sustaining him with her own divinity if need be, until he’d made a full recovery. And once his strength had been restored, he’d thank her, holding her tenderly, and telling her how much he appreciated and cared for her. Yes, she thought, determined that her husband would know the depths of her feelings for him. She would tend his wounds, and see to his healing and good health. After all, he claimed she was a foal for thinking she loved what she didn’t know. Once he’s seen the devotion she held for him, he would know she truly loved him. And maybe, just maybe, then he’d know her enough to be able to love her back, then the voice would never be able to accuse her of such villainy ever again. Her heart and motives towards her husband were pure, and none could possibly deny it. The smell of fresh earth and blooming flowers filled her nostrils. Of course, she thought, amazed she hadn’t bothered looking for him in the first place, he logically would’ve gone to. He needs to rejuvenate himself in his element. We shall escort him there, ensuring none further molest him. Walking down the hall towards the garden where she hoped to find him, she imagined herself supporting her husband as he hobbled towards the safety of the Earth. There she would stand guard, acting as a silent sentinel until he was well enough to leave the safety of the Earth’s protection. However, when she entered the garden, what she saw was enough to set her blood boiling. The Slave King, her husband, was being embraced by Celestia, her sister. ***** He rushed towards his master with wild abandon, determined to never fail him again. Though he claimed they were no longer friends and couldn’t be trusted, the ties that bound them together were stronger than steel. Though his friend might cast him away for an age and a day, should he call, he would come. He could still remember the serpent’s question, “Will you come to him in his hour of need?” Though it meant leaving paradise behind, and stranding him in the world of the living until the end, he felt it was a small price to pay. All that mattered to him was his friend needed him, and he would answer the clarion call. Once again his friend needed him, and though he didn’t call to him for aid, he felt it resonate in his bones. His friend had feared calling out, afraid that nohound would come. He wanted to reassure his friend, let him he know he had no cause to fear. That even though the heavens and the earth wasted away, he would still come. He would always come. He was once called Toby, a diamond dog of no consequence. It was by sheer accident and coincidence, they even met. But when he was pulled out from under Lord Darkpaw’s throne, frightened and shivering by the great and terrible Slave King, there was something about him that called out to him. When he was told of Lord Darkpaw’s passing, he knew he was meant to serve him until the end of his days. When he pledged his loyalty to his new master, what happened next was totally unexpected. He was touched by the Slave King’s divinity. As his flesh warped and bones thickened, he felt the Slave King’s despair and mourned with him. Though he didn’t know it at the time, this act of creation had somehow bound them together. And when his master called, he would answer. He would always answer. He saw her then, out of the corner of his eye. Nightmare cast a hateful glance at him, before redoubling her efforts to come to their master’s side. Have you come to gloat over his corpse? her eyes seemed to accuse. Looking into her red eyes, they almost looked as if she’d been crying. In all the centuries he’d known her, not once had he known her to shed a single tear. Oh certainly she’d pouted and whined to their master, over some small thing that annoyed her. On occasion she’d even sulked when she wasn’t allowed to have her way. But crying, he’d always thought that was beyond her. Without slowing down, he kept pace with her great strides. “He needs us,” he said, reaffirming his loyalty to their liege. She regarded him thoughtfully as they ran to aid him together. For the first time in days, her eyes soften somewhat towards him. No longer with every passing glance, did they scream traitor at him. For now they were allies united in a common cause, to protect the Slave King their lord and master, from further harm. ***** Though the ruins all around her were filled with the sad echoes of the dead, the garden she was wandering through seemed to sing a joyous melody to her. The earth beneath her hooves, which had lain fallow for centuries, was finally beginning to swell with life once again. It gladdened her heart to see the Earth once again fulfilling its purpose. Ever since Lord Darkpaw’s passing it had cried out in mourning to her, wishing to bloom once more. It filled her with sorrow that most of the Domain of Earth suffered, as its neighbors were allowed to fulfill their purpose unfettered. Seeing this garden bloom after being denied for so long, gave her hope the rest of his domain would follow suite in the years to come. Though he might bristle against his marriage to her sister at first, she was sure married life would agree with him soon enough. She’d seen in him a heart aching to be loved, and her sister was such a gentle caring soul, he’d be unable to resist her for long. All he needed was some understanding, patience, and a little time. And then just like this garden, his desolate heart would bloom into a thing of beauty. She felt the rest of the desolate ruins of this place and the Earth, impatiently crying out for their turn to blossom. Soon, she thought. Have patience, he’ll hear your cries soon enough, and with a joyous heart allow you to grow. As she enjoyed the peace of this place, a gentle breeze blew past her muzzle, making her nostrils flare with displeasure. She smelt the tainted blood of some poor dying thing. Though she was sure the unfortunate creature, had run afoul of some evil that lived in the ruins, her kind heart couldn’t bear to see anypony suffer. Deciding to come to its aid, she followed the garden’s path to the source of the corrupted scent. Rounding a corner she discovered the source, it was none other than the Slave King himself. With worry in her lavender eyes, she watched him from behind the hedge. He was nearly naked, and didn’t look well. His normally pale skin was nearly bereft of color, and his flaming green eyes sputtered as they struggled to keep burning. The scar along his chest seemed to have split open, leaking a black substance which could only guess was blood. He struggled to stand, and when he breathed, more often than not, he coughed up the same black blood leaking from his chest. Judging by his condition, he’d certainly seen better days. In fact she decided, not since she’d first laid eyes upon him, had he looked worse. He had the look of somepony with one hoof firmly in the grave. Though she was concerned for her sister’s wellbeing, her curiosity could wait. For now, all that mattered was ensuring he survived his ordeal. He’d not noticed her presence yet. Deciding she needed to stabilize him, she approached him as she magically scanned his body. Wishing to place him at ease and hopefully accept her help, she offered him a kind smile. “Slave King, what brings you out at this late hour?” she asked, hoping her magic would reveal the cause of his suffering. He didn’t reply to her inquiry, instead choosing to remain silent. It was as if his mind was suffering from a stupor or trance. She came even closer, and offered him another warm smile. Hoping to draw even closer, she decided to offer him a little humor. “I’d have thought, Luna would’ve kept you busy for most of the night.” Though she’d hoped what she said in jest would provoke a reaction, she was unprepared for what happened next. Instead of the mischievous twinkle his eyes sometimes held, or the unwept tears he always kept back, this time his eyes burned with a vicious malevolence. She’d only seen that look from him once before. Back at the first moot he’d attended, he was asked what he planned on doing if he was allowed to leave the moot unimpeded. His answer spoke for itself, the destruction of the Diamond Vale and its tens of thousands of inhabitants, some guilty others not, but each receiving an equal portion of his wrath. She wanted to rush to his side and demand who’d done this to him, she wanted to assure him of her protection and good intentions. She wanted to make sure that he knew she and her sister were his family now, and would gladly stand by his side. Instead, she waited for him to speak. Wearily he looked at her, and rested his hate filled gaze on her. Struggling to stand as he walked, he approached and stood in front of her muzzle. “Celestia, I’ll only say this once,” his deep voice hissed. “Move out of my way.” Saying nothing to him, she barred his path with her body. She was determined to get an answer to who had hurt him, before letting him past. Lowering her horn until it was nearly touching him, she looked at him, wishing she could take away his pain. Staring at her defiantly, he reached for her horn and held it with his hand. Reaching out with his other, he held her head still. She could feel his great anger directed at her, and wondered why he held so much rage for her. What had she done, to invoke his ire so? Had she misspoken and offended him somehow? All these questions and many more entered her mind, but she had no answer. All she knew was that he hated her, nearly as much as the diamond dogs he’d slain all those centuries ago, and nothing she could do would change that. She felt the cold metal of his hand against her face, closed her eyes, and waited for him to strike the first blow. If it meant sparing her sister from his wrath, she would gladly suffer his rage. When his expected blows never came, she looked down at him with concern. “Why have you done this to me?” he nearly shouted, as his voice echoed his anger towards her. “You offer me friendship on the one hand, yet betray me and hurt me every chance you get.” “I only ever wished to be your friend,” she said, nuzzling his head. "Then why did you do this?” he accused, nearly bowing over from the pain that wracked his body, as he hacked more black blood. “Tell me who did this, Slave King,” she demanded, furious that somepony had harmed him, in an effort to poison their relationship. “I almost believed you,” he whispered, coughing up more blood. “I almost believed her. That you both loved me.” “We do, Slave King. We do,” she reassured him, as she frantically tried used her magic find the source of his wound. “Even now, I can’t bear to hurt you,” he said, leaning against her for support. “To hurt you, like you hurt me. I wanted to hit you, but your damned kind eyes won’t allow me to!” “Tell me who hurt you!” she begged, wanting to see justice done on his behalf. “Luna did this to me,” he said, offering her the tired look of somepony who no longer cared. “But she loves you! How could she possibly do this?” she asked, scarcely believing her gentle sister had it in her to harm another. “My wife… No, I mean my assassin,” he derisively said. “Thought to slay me in the throes of our shared passion. She failed.” “What are you going to do about it?” Celestia asked, worried about what he’d planned to do about Luna. “Though I can’t bear to hurt you directly,” he said, coughing heavily. “For your treachery against me, when I pass Londwhinium will share the Diamond Vale’s fate.” When she heard what he had planned for her little ponies, the cold knife of fear entered her heart. “Please, they’ve done no harm to you,” she pleaded. “Harm me if you must, but spare them your wrath.” “I don’t have long now,” he panted, struggling to stay upright. “Please spare them,” she begged once more, as her eyes filled with tears. When he felt her tears fall against him, he was pricked with compassion. “Though it vexes me greatly to spare you the pain of loss,” he said, struggling to stay conscious. “For the sake of Clover and the last of the Gembiter Clan, I’ll spare them.” “Now, leave me,” he said, collapsing to the ground beside her. “Leave me, so I can finally die in the peace denied me for so long.” “Never,” she said, touching him with her horn. “You belong to us. You won't die, not today.” When her horn touched his head, he gasped as he felt life flowing into him. As Celestia’s heart beat for him, he felt the great anger he held for her slowly ebbing away. He could feel the love she held for him and everyone one else, beating true inside him. It was a warm unconditional love that told him no matter what, she still cared for him. He found the feeling uncomfortable and nearly unbearable, pulling away from her horn, he found the feeling subside as did his new found strength. “I suppose, I owe you an apology,” he said, standing up from the ground. “All I ask, is that you accept my friendship, Slave King,” she said, embracing him tightly. “You ask a hard thing,” he said, accepting her embrace but still refusing to fully trust her. “I’m a patient mare,” she replied, kissing his cheek. “I can wait.” “Sister, what dost thou think thou art doing with our husband!” an agitated Luna said from behind them. “Luna, thank Equestria you’re alright!” Celestia said, breaking her embrace with the Slave King. When I saw what had happened to him, I feared the worst had happened.” “Art thou alright, husband?” she asked, pawing the ground nervously. Though he knew Celestia probably wasn’t responsible for his grievous wound, Luna was still a prime suspect. “Stay back, woman!” he demanded, reaching into his reserves to defend himself. Luna felt his scornful glare, and shrunk back from him. “Please allow us to be near thee once more, husband,” she said, feeling her earlier tears threatening to return and stain her cheek once more. “You must think me a fool, wife,” he hissed at her. “If you thought I would ever allow you near me again.” “Stop this, Slave King,” Celestia implored, putting herself between them. “Luna is your wife. You found it in your heart to spare Londwhinium, give her a chance to explain herself.” Though no longer connected to her, he felt the familial bond Celestia shared with her sister, and found his anger against her subsiding. “Very well Celestia,” he said, feeling fatigued once more. “In the interests of fairness, I’ll allow my wife an opportunity to explain herself.” “Go on, Luna,” Celestia said, prodding her sister to defend herself. “Tell us what happened.” “We know not what happened to thee, husband,” Luna admitted, lowering her ears and head submissively to the Slave King. “In truth, we art flummoxed why thou left our side in such haste. We know not, why thou suffer from this foul humour. But as thy wife, we desireth to nurse and dote upon thee, until thou return to us in good health.” He gave Celestia a sidelong glance that said he was done listening to Luna’s sentimental tripe. As he moved to enter the Earth, she gave him another imploring look begging him to at least consider what she’d said. But as weak as he was, he hadn’t the strength left in him to fight over her sister’s innocence. “What more will you demand of me, Celestia?” he said, sighing in resignation. “Stay with your wife,” she said, gently pushing him towards Luna. “At least until we can prove or disprove her innocence in this matter.” “You wish for me to stand beside my assassin?” he incredulously asked, unable to accept what she expected of him. “Yes,” Celestia said, hoping to prove to him that her sister was no murderer. When she heard them arguing over her presumed innocence or guilt, she felt her world crashing down all around her. He didn’t love her after all. In fact if not for her sister’s intervention, she was sure he’d demand her dragged before the pantheon for the summarily judged for her supposed crime. Lowering her head, she retreated inside the palace not wishing for anypony to see her tears. All her hopes for a bright and cheery marriage with him were dashed to pieces. All she had to look forward to now, was a dark and dreary future marriage. Why won’t anypony love me? she thought to herself, as she silently wept. I love you, Luna, the voice said. Thou art a liar! she shouted in despair, knowing the voice was somehow responsible for her misery. Yes, how could anypony love such a miserable creature as yourself? the voice said with a chuckle. Thou beast! she raged, furious at being mocked so. But the voice said nothing, choosing to remain silent as she gnashed her teeth in rage. ***** Nightmare and Scourge arrived in the gardens together. Scourge was relieved to see that the Slave King was still standing, and was apparently discussing something with Celestia. He heard her whine, when he denied her desire to stand by her master’s side. Looking at her, he shook his head. “Nightmare,” he said, gesturing towards their master. “If the Slave King needs us, we’re here. Until then, let him conduct his business with Celestia.” She gave him a dark glare, but remained still. There would be time enough later to chastise the traitor, but for now she would stand by, fully prepared to see to her king’s needs. She saw the Slave King arguing about something with one of the pony whores. The lighter one seemed to be imploring him to do something he didn’t wish to do. She felt her dander rise, how dare she try coercing him to suit her whims! Her master was his own hound, not some pup she could scold. Then she saw her master’s new wife, and smiled with glee at her anguish. It serves her right for trying to steal him away from me! she decided, as her tail twitched to and fro. Though she greatly respected her master’s judgment, sometimes he was prone to making foolish decisions. Apparently, his marriage to the whore was one such choice. He didn’t need somehound that would weigh him down with her stupidity, like his pony wife seemed determined to. He deserved somehound far more worthy than any pony could ever hope to be, somehound fierce and loyal. Somehound like herself. She was his first creation. In her chest, beat a heart of pure rage and power. A gift from her master. It bound her to him, and if wasn’t aware of it, he to her. You might even say, a sliver of his soul went into her creation. Though she wasn’t sure of all the peculiars and mechanics behind it, she was pretty sure that why she seemed to be ageless like the others he’d marked. Hounds like that fop of an arch duke, who she longed to once again tear into pieces. Or the traitor Scourge, whom she squarely placed the blame for all these troubles at his paws. Returning her gaze towards her master and the pony whore who thought to control him, she narrowed her eyes when she recognized the female magic she was using on him. She angrily growled at the affront to his honor. Deity or not, goddess or not, she would regret manipulating her liege. “Hold, Nightmare,” Scourge said, giving her a dour look. “Don’t embarrass him in front of his peers. He can fight his own battles.” She scowled at the traitor for his foolish male naivety. He didn’t know how insidious female magic could be! An experienced bitch like that pony whore, could easily bend the Slave King to her will, if left unchallenged. Scourge saw her trying to move forward, and knocked her hard with his paw. “The Slave King will fight his own battle here,” he said, giving her a hard look. “If he needs us, he will call.” Nightmare wanted to rage, didn’t the traitor know what that pony whore was trying to do? Or maybe he did, and that’s why he wished to stop her from saving their master from the sly bitch’s trickery. Every instinct commanded her to come to his side, she could no longer ignore them. Leaping forward and escaping Scourge’s great paws, Nightmare ran towards her master. She could see the pony whore’s eyes looking at her warily. Scowling once, she took her rightful place at her king’s side, which nohound could ever steal from her. Especially not his unworthy pony wife. Presenting herself to him, she bowed low to the Slave King, before offering the pony whore a low growl, letting her know she wasn’t welcome here. Moments later Scourge bounded over to join them. Like Nightmare, he bowed low in respect, once to the Slave King and once again to Celestia. “My apologies, Slave King,” he said, displeased she’d disobeyed. “Nightmare refused to wait for your call.” “Scourge, a good servant knows when to come, even if they’re not called,” he said, rebuking him for his earlier failure. “I understand, my king,” he said, bowing once more. “Shall I take my leave?” “No, Scourge, both Nightmare and yourself may stay,” he said, leaning against Celestia as he tried to keep his balance. “Are you alright, Slave King?” he asked, the concern for his friend’s wellbeing etched into his muzzle. “No, I’m afraid not, Scourge,” he said, wheezing and coughing. “I’m dying, it’s only due to Celestia’s intervention that I still live.” When she heard his revelation, Nightmare cast a scathing look at Scourge. See! her eyes screamed at him, castigating him for his treachery. You did this to him, when you sided against him with this pony whore! Whether Celestia understood all that Nightmare said, she didn’t say. But she did offer Scourge a look of sympathy. “No, this is nopony’s fault,” she said. “The magic binding the Slave King to his divinity seems to be interrupted somehow. In the meantime, I’m sharing mine with him.” “Can anything be done?” Scourge asked. “I’m not sure,” she said, worried for both him and her sister. “We need to find a spark of his original divinity. Hopefully that will reignite his own.” “Where can we find one?” he asked, hoping she might have the answer. “Truthfully, I’m not sure,” Celestia said. “Perhaps his heart, or the fang he used to remove it might work. Even his crown might be suitable. Generally a deity’s first few creations contain the imprint of their divine spark.” “The fang was used in The Vendetta’s creation, and as for my crown…” the Slave King said. “I forged it with fire, and shaped it with a hammer. Beyond collecting the materials, its creation was rather mundane.” “Then we must retrieve his heart,” Scourge said, preparing to make the journey to the Well of Eternity to retrieve it. Holding up his hand wearily, the Slave King stopped him. “I don’t think there’s any point in going there,” he said, coughing heavily. “I can no longer feel it beating within the well.” Celestia frowned, unhappy she had no alternative options to offer him. “I’ll continue lending you my strength, until we come up with an alternate solution,” she said, knowing she’d only be able to offer her strength for a little while longer, before the strain became too great for her to bear. “What about your wife, Slave King,” Scourge suggested. “Luna and you share an elemental connection, and her renewal was only a season ago.” “No,” he said, a little too soon for Scourge’s liking. Suddenly Scourge had an idea. “How about me?” he asked. “I was the first of your doomhounds. You made almost immediately after the Diamond Vale’s destruction.” Celestia laid her horn against him, and shook her head. “I’m afraid you won’t do,” she said disappointed it didn’t work. “His spark was in your body, and it’s long since passed.” Nightmare’s ears perked as they spoke. She knew exactly where the needed spark was, but didn’t trust the pony whore with the knowledge. Growling and whining at Scourge, she directed his attention to her. Scourge noticed her whines, and looked at her inquisitively. “What is it, Nightmare?” he asked. Traitor, we should speak alone, she said, lowering her head near his. Nodding his assent, he turned back towards Celestia and the Slave King. “Nightmare wishes to discuss something with me in private,” he said, waiting to be excused. “Very well, Scourge,” the Slave King said, shaking slightly as his reserves ebbed away. The two of them walked together deeper into the garden, away from their master and Celestia. “So what is it?” Scourge asked, cutting straight to the chase. I know where a piece of our master’s divine spark can be found, she said, offering him a smug smile. “Then tell me,” he said, feeling hope for his master’s condition. Inside me, she said. I am his first creation. “Of course!” he excitedly said. “Come, let’s tell the Slave King the good news.” No, she stubbornly said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ll come of your own free will,” he said, baring his teeth at her. “Or I’ll knock you down, and carry you back in my maw like a disobedient pup.” I’m not going anywhere, not until he agrees to get rid of those pony whores! she demanded. “And if he should call you to his side, then what will you do?” he asked her. Laying her ears down dejectedly, sullenly she lowered her head. I’ll come, she agreed, knowing she could never refuse her king’s command. “I’ll not mention your rebellion to him,” Scourge said, walking beside her. Returning to him together, they hoped the spark she carried within would be the key to saving their master’s life. ***** It was late, and she was wet, cold, and tired, not to mention her dress was probably ruined as well. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find she was neither wet, cold, nor tired. In fact she was… Wait she didn’t even know where she was. It looked like some sort of cozy cave. Getting up from the soft bed she’d been laying on, she stood up and examined her surroundings. Examining the walls, she saw they seemed to be smooth to the touch. Along the walls at regular intervals were lanterns unlike any she’d ever seen before. As a denizen of the Domain of Earth, she was familiar with all the lighting technology they used, and these lanterns were lit by unknown means. Looking down the tunnel, she felt compelled to head deeper inside. She didn’t know why, but it just felt right, like she was meant to go this way. Following the passageway, she stopped right as the tunnel opened up into a much larger room. What she saw amazed her. Bookcases in orderly lines, containing books of all kinds, ran as far as the eye could see, and looking up she doubted she could fly high enough to reach the top shelves. Approaching the nearest bookcase, she reached out, and picked up the first book she saw. Holding it in her hands, she found it light to the touch and had almost no weight to speak of. Examining the cover and binding, she saw embossed in an unknown language a title she couldn’t hope to understand. Opening up the book, and leafing through its pages, she found the same alien language before her. “Ah, that one’s called, ‘The Jungle Book’, it’s a novel by Rudyard Kipling,” a voice explained. “A personal favorite of mine. A shame you can’t read it, it’s written in your father’s native tongue.” “My father?” she asked, placing the book back on the shelf. “Who are you, and what do you know about my father?” “More than most, Melody, and I’m afraid not as much as I’d like,” the voice said, with a slight chuckle. “Come child, join me by the fire. The Library of Eternity can get quite drafty sometimes.” Walking towards the voice, she spent what felt like hours navigating the labyrinth of never ending book cases. All the while, the voice would tease her with snippets of information about her father. “So how do you know him so well?” Melody asked, amazed the voice’s owner knew so much about him. “I met him once in a dream during my travels, in the world beyond this one, though he doesn’t recall,” the voice said. “He didn’t seem all that remarkable at the time, but the powers that be had a completely different appraisal of his worth. Eventually agreements were reached with management, and he was brought into Equestria.” “Whoa,” she said, amazed by the story. She’d often wondered where the land of the wayfarers was, but had never expected it to be another world altogether. “But enough about your father,” the voice said. “I didn’t bring you all the way here to talk about him. Well… I did, but not to reminisce about the past. We’re here to talk about the present and the immediate future.” “So where are you?” she asked, starting to tire from her lengthy walk. “Right where you began,” the voice said from behind her. “You certainly have your father’s smile, but I think you inherited your feathers from your mother’s side.” Turning around, she saw a massive blue serpent coiled near a burning fire. Through half lidded eyes, he looked down on her and smiled. “You’re Jormungandr, aren’t you?” she asked, scarcely believing she was standing before the elusive father of serpents. “Guilty as charged, my dear,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Now my apologies for earlier, the rules have changed, and I’m no longer allowed to directly interfere in the game.” “The game? What game is that?” she asked, wondering what he meant. “A rather tiresome game between myself and a mutual acquaintance of your father and me,” he explained, flicking out his forked tongue. “Now, without getting into too many details, because my esteemed opponent has been blatantly cheating of late, I’m finally allowed to give you some help.” “Was that you in the aqueduct?” she wondered. “Yes it was,” he said, admitting his part. “And incidentally, Melody, good job on keeping the elements away from the changeling.” “You mean the stones?” she said, remembering the six stones it had tried stealing. “Those stones, as you so eloquently call them, are the Elements of Harmony,” Jormungandr said, summoning an illusion of the elements above her head. “They were instrumental in the creation of our world, and maintaining the balance between the domains of Equestria. They must be found and returned to your father, before the summer solstice. Or he, and all Equestria will suffer unceasing torment.” “But they were swept away by the current!” Melody said, unsure how she could possibly find them. “How can I possibly find them in time?” “Find the bearers, and the elements will find you,” he said, offering her a smile. “That’s not much help,” Melody complained, annoyed she’d be forced to trek across all creation to find the six stones. “I wish I could offer more help, but the rules are rather strict in that regard,” he apologized. “Well I guess it can’t be helped,” she said, before looking at him slyly. “Maybe you might want to talk to yourself as I browse through your books. I promise not to eavesdrop.” “Ha, ha, ha,” the Winding One chuckled. “Very well, here’s the last hint I can offer you. Where once there were seven, only one remains. Ask him wisely, and he shall point the way.” “Thank you, Jormungandr,” she said, lightly kissing his nose. The Winding One blushed lightly, before closing his eyes once more. “One last thing, Melody,” he said, yawning widely. “Tell him I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there when he needed me most.” Suddenly feeling exhausted herself, Melody yawned as well, and laid against Jormungandr’s vibrant blue scales. “All right, I will,” she yawned, before nodding off to sleep. ***** He sat between the two obstinate females and sighed. This was his punishment for all his misdeeds, he was sure of it. Neither was willing to give an inch. Not even Celestia’s pleading would move either of them. For Nightmare’s part, she was demanding her place on the bed regardless whether or not his wife was occupying it. And Luna was unwilling to accept the demands. It was enough to make him wish he’d succumbed to the vile curse that had afflicted him. In the end to secure their cooperation, he had to promise both stubborn women things he’d rather not think about. But he supposed that was a problem for another day. For now, he needed to worry about his spark reigniting his divine flame. In the end, both Luna and Nightmare had agreed to do their part in healing him. Nightmare possessed the divine spark that Celestia hoped would save his life, while Luna was providing the divinity he needed to preserve his slowly dying magical essence. As they prepared to perform the spell, he felt Celestia withdraw her divinity from him, as Luna took over. Once the transfer was complete, he could tell the difference. Where Celestia felt like a warm quilt, his wife’s divinity seemed more like silken sheets. And though he still felt angry towards her for this whole mess, he couldn’t help but feel the unfulfilled hunger they both felt before he’d been struck down by the wicked curse. “Is everypony ready?” Celestia asked, drawing her magic into her horn. “Verily, sister,” Luna said, offering the Slave King a warm smile, though he could see she was struggling under the strain of sharing her divinity with him. Nightmare only glowered at her, before nodding that she too was ready. Scowling once at Luna, her tail twitched derisively at her mistress. However, a sharp look from the Slave King quickly put a stop to her moodiness. After receiving his rebuke, she sighed and agreed to behave herself. “I’m ready, Celestia,” the Slave King said, hoping this would work. Already he was having trouble standing, and his mind was starting to become nebulous. Celestia’s eyes filled with power as she released her spell. Magical eldritch energies left her horn and swirled around both the Slave King and Nightmare. Luna looked on in fascination, as her husband and their servant seemed to meld together into a singular being. The smell of ozone and baking earth filled the air, while a pillar of magical green flame exploded where the two stood as one. Then as quickly as it began, they separated and returned to their original positions. When Celestia’s spell left them, both Nightmare and the Slave King collapsed to the ground. “Slave King, are you all right?” Celestia asked, concerned for his welfare. “Did it work?” He groaned once, and took in several deep breaths. For the first time in hours, he was able to breathe freely once more. Though he still shook like a newborn kitten as he tried standing up, he offered her a weary look. “I think it did, Celestia,” he said, looking down at his hands. “But I’m still so weak. I’ll never be able to hold onto my domain this way.” “Worry not, beloved,” Luna said, using her magic and placing him on her back. “We shall stand as warden over thy domain for thee, until thou hast strength enough to do so on thy own.” He felt weak and helpless, and the Slave King hated it. He was utterly at Luna’s mercy now, and there was little he could do to stop her, if she decided to radically alter how he ran things. Weakly reaching his hand towards Nightmare, he gently stroked her head. “Thank you,” he said, as she basked in the pleasure his fingers offered. “Scourge, see to her needs.” “Yes, Slave King,” he agreed, placing her on his back. “Come, husband,” Luna said, keeping him on her back, with her magic. “Thou needeth thy bed rest and breakfast.” “When might I expect you back in Londwhinium, Luna,” Celestia asked, worried that the South would take her sister away from her duties in her own domain. “We cans’t raise our moon wheresoever we desire,” Luna said, looking up at the night sky. “We shalt hold court here, beside our husband’s throne. If our subjects desireth an audience, they may beseech us there.” “But, Luna, we have a responsibility to be there when they need us,” Celestia objected, unhappy with her sister’s plans. “So few of our subjects petition us most nights, we feel none shalt notice our absence,” she said, tightening her mouth as she thought of their beloved ponies’ collective rejection of her. “That’s not true, and you know it, Luna!” Celestia protested, trying to reassure her sister that she was just as beloved by their subjects as she. “Thou knowest better than to lie to us, sister,” Luna huffed, annoyed that she sought to sugar coat the harsh reality of what most ponies thought of her. She was the afterthought, the ancillary princess, the boogedy mare who hid under the bed, waiting to punish all the naughty foals who refused to go to bed on time. Unlike her sister, she was rarely celebrated and hardly ever thanked, and few bothered attending her winter moon festival beyond the few nobles who were unable to climb the social ladder any other way. “Please, Luna, reconsider this,” Celestia implored, wishing her sister knew how much everypony loved her. “Our husband is fatigued,” she said, deciding to end any further discussion. “We shalt send for our things later.” As she watched her carrying the Slave King away on her back, Celestia felt a tiny wedge pulling her apart from her sister. Though it had been her idea all along, now she felt slightly jealous that the Slave King would have her sister all to himself. Though she was originally worried that her sister would have her work cut out for her in taming him, now that he was barely able to stand, he would have to depend on her for most things. Though it grieved her to see him struck down like that, she felt the end result was just what they both needed. He needed to learn to open his heart to others, and she needed someone to love. It was a perfect match. But then she thought about what had happened to him, and frowned. Who could have done this to the Slave King of all ponies? She’d thought him nearly invulnerable in the heart of his own domain, and his heart was supposedly safe inside the Well of Eternity. There should’ve been nothing that could have harmed him there. This was troubling, she needed to speak with the only one wise enough to know the answer. Jormungandr. But he was in a self-imposed exile, and was nowhere to be found. She would have to greatly ponder things, as she conducted her investigation to prove her sister’s innocence. Turning towards the receding night, she prepared to raise the sun, and then make the long trek home, this time alone. ***** He laid in his bed, quite unable to move, as his wife ran a sponge along his body, as she attempted cleaning him up. He found such an intimate activity slightly off putting, but given they were married now he couldn’t really complain. As she moved him about with her magic, he simply grinned and bore it. He saw how happy she was like this, and ground his teeth. He was no doll to be played with, but for his lack of strength he may as well been. He was completely at her mercy, as her magic cradled and held him like a delicate egg, which could be crushed at any given moment. He didn’t like it, feeling so weak and vulnerable, but what could he do? “Thou art clean now, my love,” his wife cooed into his ear, as she lightly kissed him. “Wouldn’t it be better to have my servants tend to me?” he asked, hoping to dissuade her from continuing her care for him. “This is beneath a woman of your station.” “Nay, husband,” she said, shocked that he would even consider such a thing. “None other shalt touch thee. We shalt prove our devotion to thee, then thou shalt know of our love and pure intent for thee.” He rolled his eyes, she still thought he’d want anything to do with her after what happened. As far as he was concerned, she was the cause of his suffering, and all the redress in Equestria wouldn’t change a thing. His wife was not to be trusted. “Wife,” he said, hoping to make her aware of his feelings on the matter. “You think to win my heart, with your service. Let me disabuse you of that notion. Nothing you do or say, will ever make me love you.” Once the words had left his lips, he felt the magic cradling his head disappear, causing his head to knock against his headboard with a thunk. Looking at him with her turquoise eyes, Luna’s eyes contained a fury he was well acquainted with. He’d seen it many times in Nightmare’s eyes, as well as Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku. They were the eyes of someone possessed with intense feminine anger. Though lesser men might have been cowed into submission, he’d not run the most treacherous domain for over five hundred years possessing a faint heart. “Well, what are you waiting for, wife?” he demanded, staring into her eyes. “I’m at your mercy now, strike me down. No one can stop you.” When she heard his harsh words, her eyes softened as she wept. “We love thee, cans’t thou not feel it?” she implored, placing his hand against the beating heart in her chest. “We shalt be patient for thee, husband. Thou art worth the wait.” “Humph,” he grunted, unwilling to believe anymore of her lies. When she laid down beside him, he narrowed his eyes, and glared at her with disapproval. “Wife, what do you think you’re doing?” “We art fatigued and weary, worrying over thee, husband,” she replied, kissing him gently and dimming the lights. “We promised to remain at thy side until the end.” “You’ll have to find someplace else to sleep, wife,” he said, looking as sternly as he could at her. Unfortunately for the Slave King, he lacked the strength to raise his arm to point towards the exit, and so his demand was somewhat lacking its usual authoritative aura. “Nay, husband, all thy domain is ours to share with thee, including thy bed,” she brashly said, snuggling up against him. “Besides, dost thou not always say in the South, thou taketh whatsoever thou desireth?” “Wife, with my right hand I’ve rent the Earth in twain, and with my left I’ve broken cities,” he said, displeased she was treating him like a weak child that needed coddling. “With a mere utterance from my lips, I could raise a mountain. Do not trifle with me, woman.” She opened her eyes, and gently nuzzled against him. Using her magic, she moved his hands. “Husband, with thy left hand thou caresseth us, and with thy right thou hold’st us,” she said, moving his arms as she spoke. “And with thy lips, dost we kiss thee.” As he felt her lips press against his, he wanted to protest against the great injustice that had been foisted upon him. Here he was being played like a puppet for his wife’s amusement, and he didn’t even have the strength to reject her advances. He saw the mischievous twinkle in her eye, and could tell she enjoyed teasing him. He only wished that he found the experience as enjoyable as she apparently was. He was a prime element, the Lord of Earth, the feared Slave King, and now he was stuck in his bed as an invalid. Married against his will to a woman he didn’t love, and everyone expected him to somehow change overnight. He almost wished he was stuck in Lord Ouroboros’s clutches instead, at least then he’d know what to do with himself. He knew how to handle violence. But with her, he had no idea what he should do. Though the time he’d spent with Lady Zephyr and Lady Suzaku were superficially similar to his marriage to Luna, those relationships, consisted solely of a simple exchange of knowledge, for their pleasure. With his wife, it seemed she wanted something completely different, himself. Something he was unwilling to give her. Though he’d briefly considered it, his injury had shown him the folly of that idea. Sharing his bed and lying beside her in the darkness, he wondered how it had come to this. Looking at his wife, he saw she wasn’t asleep yet. For some odd reason she’d decided to stare at him. “What is it?” he irritably asked, finding her attention altogether unsettling. “What art thou thinking of, beloved?” she asked, moving closer to him. Somehow he knew that being told that he wished they had just let him die, wouldn’t go over very well with her. “I’m pondering my… I mean our future together,” he said, offering her a white lie, when he saw her expectant look. When she heard him say that his thoughts were consumed by her, she smiled. “Pray tell, husband,” she said, enjoying their pillow talk. “What omens dost thy clairvoyance foresee?” What, beyond waking up to you looking down at me, and asking, do you love me yet? He bitterly thought. “I don’t know about any omens, but we still have to assign the garrison commander for Bone’s Landing. Plus, I have to go to the manufactorium to look over the damage to the Devastation with Ignatius, and I’m pretty sure the citizens of Neo Vale will want to pay their respects to their new mistress as well.” “Truly, thy subjects woulds’t desire to meet us?” she asked, surprised that nonponies would care for her. Yawning deeply, he nodded his head as much as he was able. “I’m sure most will be ponies begging for their freedom,” he said, trying to sleep. “But I’m sure some diamond dogs will wish to meet with you. There’s a small cult of them dedicated to the moon after all.” The moment he’d mentioned the cult of moon worshipers, he immediately regretted it. Her eyes lit up with excitement, at the thought of somepony worshiping her moon. From that moment on, all she did was badger him with questions about the miniscule sect. She wanted to know everything, and all he wanted was some sleep. “How opulent is our temple, husband?” she asked, dying with curiosity. “I have no idea,” he murmured, desperately wishing he could ignore her prattling. “If you really want to know, have Melody take you on a tour of the city.” “We shall,” she said, bursting with excitement to see the city and the cult. “Good night, husband.” “Good night, wife,” he yawned, as sleep finally began overtaking him. “We love thee, beloved,” she said, hoping to illicit a similar response from him. “Sleep well,” he grunted, closing his eyes and becoming dead to the world. ***** The dragon was resting lazily on his hoard as he snacked on a handful of gemstones. The fire roaring in corner, reflected dully off his vibrant blue and red scales. This decade had been unremarkable so far, and he was considering going into torpor for a century or so, in the hope that things would be more interesting when he woke up. Deciding that he wanted to look at his treasures again, he reached for an iron chest tucked away in a corner, and opened the lid. Inside it contained an assortment of odds and ends. The first thing he pulled out was a well-worn, wide brimmed, grey felt hat that had a brass emblem attached to its peak. Examining the emblem, he saw the mark of the Gembiter Clan on one side and the name Shanks on the reverse. Gingerly holding it in his claws, he smiled as he thought of its former owner, a rather clever and magically gifted blue unicorn and his diamond dog friend. He fondly remembered the many long nights they’d spent discussing magical lore over the years. Though magic was never his forte, he’d often enjoyed collecting and adding magical artifacts to his ever increasing hoard with them. Placing the hat aside, he reached in and pulled out another of his treasures, a pair of untarnished tokens of the Lawgiver. Though these silvery tokens usually lost their shine when their owners passed, these two shone as brightly as the day he’d been bequeathed them. Though the tokens were usually buried with their owners, Lord Triton had assured him their respective owners were in no danger of being denied entrance to his citadel in the next life. He was the third to possess the tokens, and judging by their luster the previous owners were happy enough in the afterlife. Putting aside the pair of tokens, he removed a golden bridle. Though it seemed no different from the bridles one might find in any upscale Londwhinium clothier’s shop, this one was rather special. It was a bridle of peace, an artifact so rare that most had no idea what they were used for. Bridles of peace were once used by griffons to control windigos. This one in particular had an interesting history, it had once belonged to the fastest griffin to ever live. So fast, he was the source behind the legend of the sonic rainboom. Even in his later years, he was still faster than most others. Placing the bridle beside the other items, he reached in and pulled out a deck of well used playing cards. The back of each displayed a pair of masks, one smiling and the other frowning, just like her cutie mark. Removing them from their case, he began dealing a claw of cards to play against himself. Looking at his cards, he smiled when he saw that he had a full house. But when he revealed her claw, he smirked when he saw she’d gotten a royal flush. “Even in the Summerlands you’re still cheating at cards, eh Showboat?” he said, dealing himself another hand. After his third loss, he put the cards away. Reminiscing was fun at first, but playing against a card cheat did get tiresome after a while. Returning his treasures back to their place inside the chest, he was about to curl up on his hoard and enjoy a yearlong nap, when somescale entered his cave. Narrowing his eyes in annoyance, he was sure it was those fledgling punks again. They always loved pranking him and stealing his gemstones. “Damn whelps,” he grumbled. “Punks haven’t even hit a century yet, and they think they can do whatever they want.” Testing his fire, he expelled a small jet of flame. “Hot damn, I still got it,” he said with a smirk. Stalking into the shadows, he prepared to give those whelps a sound thrashing, before sending them packing. Spying the intruder’s lengthy shadow, he flexed his wings as he prepared to pounce on them. However when he saw who it was, he gave them a flat look. “I was trying to sleep you know,” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. “Come on in, I’ll brew us some tea.” A good forty minutes later, the dragon and his guest were enjoying the tea he’d prepared. “So tell me, what brings you all the way out here?” he asked, curious why they’d came all this way without sending him a letter first. When he heard the reason for his friend’s journey, he nodded thoughtfully. “So it’s time for that is it? I guess I’ve got one more adventure in me, before I need to sleep.” Extending his claw, he reaffirmed the pact that he’d entered all those centuries ago. Listening to their concerns, he raised up his claw. “Yes, I understand,” he said, as he rolled his eyes. “I remember the rules, though I think it’s unfair he gets to cheat whenever it pleases him, and we’re always stuck following the rules. It doesn’t take a condragon to know a raw deal when you see one.” When they started reminding him of the agreement, he sighed. “Fine, fine, fine…” he said in defeat. “Alright already, I promise to play by the rules. Sheesh.” Satisfied that the dragon would uphold his end of things, his guest left as quickly as he came. Looking back towards the chest containing his treasures, he grinned. “I wonder who he managed to rope in this time?” he said, chuckling to himself as he prepared to depart for places unknown.