The first thing Fleur noticed was that she was pressed tightly against something. She didn’t know what it was, but it was warm, so she didn’t move away. The world beyond was cold, and she wanted none of it.
Her mind flitted in and out of consciousness. She eventually became aware of the sound of heavy breathing, so she knew she wasn’t alone. That didn’t make any sense; she always slept alone.
Fleur’s eyes flitted open, and her world was white. For a moment she could only gaze sleepily and wonder what she was seeing. Had she bought white sheets? And why was her bed so hard?
The past night snapped back into her brain, and she jolted awake. The world cleared when she lifted her head, the snow that had piled on top of her slumping off. The fire she and Big Mac had made was nothing more than smoldering embers, but the snow had stopped falling and the sky was clear. No breeze, either, and for that she praised Luna’s name! Now where was—
She went rigid as something shifted beside her. She was still tightly pressed against that warm presence, but suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to be next to it. Gradually, her head turned to the side. The warm body she’d been feeling was Big McIntosh, his back to her and his chest heaving with deep breaths.
It took all Fleur's willpower not to leap away.
She stood slowly and stepped back from him, mind frantic. She tried to recall the night before as vividly as possible, but after she helped light the fire it was all a haze. She could vaguely recall him moving the trees and being impressed. What else? Had there been anything else? Goddess, she hoped not!
She turned away from him, cheeks burning. Surely he hadn’t… No. No, he seemed too decent a pony for that.
But he was a stallion. She’d never met a decent stallion, before!
What about Fine Crime?
Well, he certainly didn’t qualify as decent. He was too in love with his job to be interested in mares, right?
No, he did like one mare.
That didn’t help!
Fancy Pants was a decent stallion, of that she was sure. That was a little comforting.
But Fancy aside, all stallions wanted her. Big McIntosh was a stallion, so it stood to reason…
Then why did he reject her last night?
That last thought was sobering. She glanced back at him, suddenly feeling a lot better about her situation. If he wasn’t going to go after her when she was feigning an attraction, surely he wouldn’t go after her while she wasn’t even trying. Right?
Fleur bowed her head, eyes on her hooves as she tried to reason her way through her uncertainty. But then she noticed the red in the snow. Blinking, she raised her hoof and bent down for a closer look. No doubt, the snow was red once it went so far down. She stood up and looked around, and suddenly saw many curious things. Some of the trees had claw marks. A few more spots of red in the snow marked something’s movement.
It had to be blood. But where had it come from? Did something approach them in the night? Had she been so sapped of energy that she’d slept right through it?
Then she noticed the wood. It was spread out and shattered, but it didn’t look…normal. She turned to peer at the fire. One particular lump caught her eye, and she lifted it up with her magic. It was rounded on one end, and pointed on the other. It looked familiar. Like…a claw.
Timberwolves.
Fleur poked around in the ashes with a stick and pulled a few more burnt pieces out. She began to recognize parts; teeth, a tail, more claws. She looked to Big McIntosh with wide eyes; had he fought Timberwolves while she slept? And used them for firewood? She was astounded, and inescapably impressed.
She set the wood back on the pile and stoked the flames for a bit, nursing the fire until it was back to a proper blaze. That done, she went back to observe Big McIntosh. She’d never had somepony protect her while she slept. She used her magic to push the snow from his sleeping face. He seemed so…peaceful.
Her eyes traced his neck, then his massive body. So much muscle! No question, Big Mac was one rugged pony. Fleur used her magic once more to push the snow from atop him, and had to cover her lips to keep from shouting in surprise; he had a trio of long, parallel cuts going down his side. Suddenly the blood she’d found made a lot more sense.
She stared at his wound for several long seconds, mind churning over this revelation. He’d fought timberwolves, and still went through the trouble of keeping her warm throughout the night. Did that mean she owed him her life two times over?
How could she ever repay such a debt?
He began to move with a big yawn. She took a step back, trying to think of something to say. What did you tell somepony who’d just protected you all night long? ‘Thank you’ hardly seemed like enough!
His eyes flitted open, and he immediately noticed her. “Mornin’,” he offered with a calm smile. He began to stand, wincing at the pain.
“Wait.” She set a hoof to his shoulder. “Don’t move just yet.”
He raised an eyebrow, but laid back down. Fleur observed his wound closely, trying to remember the spell she’d once known so well. Her horn lowered so the tip hovered over the cuts, and a pale aura surrounded the injury. She continued the spell for several seconds before letting it fade. She eyed the wound, which didn’t seem any different from before, then gave him a questioning look. “Better?”
He hesitated, eyes on his injury, but slowly tried to get back up. He managed it without difficulty, and gave her a grin. “Thanks.”
“No,” she answered, head drooping. “I should be the one thanking you. I’ve never had somepony defend me like you did. I could have died.”
“Wasn’ nothin’,” he declared.
She looked up and saw that pleasant, strangely charming smile. “Nothing? How could you say it was nothing? Look at that injury!”
He glanced at it as instructed, but he didn’t seem at all bothered. “It was the equine thing ta do.”
Her jaw dropped as he turned to study the fire. “B-but… But you didn’t get anything out of it!”
“Did too.” He gestured to the flames with a grin. “More firewood.”
She stepped up beside him and brought her face close to his. “I don’t think you understand. We both could have been killed! Why did you go to such lengths?”
He studied her with a solemn frown, confusion clear in his eyes. He considered the question, but finally just shrugged. “Because ya needed me.”
She sat and gaped. “That’s all?”
“Eeyup.”
Her mind was spinning in circles. Was that really all there was to it? Was he just that good a stallion? She hadn’t met very many she would call noble – Fancy Pants was the only name that came to mind just then – but she may have just found one. It was…unnerving. She was so used to…to…
“B-but didn’t you want something for your actions?”
Big McIntosh glowered, shook his head and turned back to the fire. He began kicking snow onto it.
He was offended! “I’m sorry.” She turned away with head bowed. “I must seem very shallow and foalish to you.”
There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of him kicking the snow. “Life in Canterlot mus' be very different,” he noted after a time.
Canterlot? It had nothing to do with Canterlot.
“Come on,” Big Mac muttered, walking past her. “Time ta get ya back ta yer cozy city.”
Fleur followed, head low and eyes on his white hoofprints. Why did she feel so…shameful? Was it because of how she’d been looking at him all this time? He really was a decent pony, wasn’t he? He probably didn’t think much of her at all. How strange, it was almost exactly the way she’d felt about him when she’d first laid eyes on him. But now it seemed more like she was the one not worth his time. He probably couldn’t wait to be rid of her.
Even so, he’d fought timberwolves while she slept. Most stallions she’d dealt with would have left her there as a distraction, even if they liked her. He didn’t, but he’d fought for her. Granted, he’d probably been fighting for his life, too, but he could have just left…
She was reminded of something Fine often told her: the Archons wallowed in shadow and muck to protect those who bathed in the sunshine and rainbows. Or something like that. She’d never understood, but suddenly his meaning was coming through.
Fleur’s fans thought she was a supermodel. The history not known to them was much darker, grown out of ashes and dragon’s fire. She knew real pain and desperation. The Archons had helped her to change a miserable life into something productive, if by no means bright. She’d accepted the life – even welcomed it – because it was better than what she’d known.
She didn’t know Big McIntosh, but by his demeanor she couldn’t help thinking that he’d led a happier life. No pony could be as good as he was, not without having some good things happen to him. He probably had a loving family, a happy home to return to. She could only assume he was from Ponyville, and last she checked it hadn’t been destroyed in some great catastrophe.
Sunshine and rainbows. That was where Big Mac was from, wasn’t it?
Fleur had long questioned Fine Crime’s charity to non-Archon ponies. She’d thought it foalish; a waste of resources and time on ponies who didn’t know they existed, much less appreciate the dangerous work every Archon performed for their safety. Yet now, as she gazed at Big McIntosh’s back, she felt a curious appreciation. He didn’t know about the harshness that could be his world, the evils that she’d helped hold back all her life. It hadn’t affected him, so he could – presumably – live a happy, productive life being kind to others.
All her efforts and energies had been devoted to keeping ponies like him…well, like him.
Fleur paused and stared. She’d been an Archon for years, but only now did she truly understand what it meant to be one.
Was that three times over she owed Big McIntosh?
She moved to catch up, falling in step at his side. “Can I ask you something?”
Big Mac nodded, though he didn’t look her way.
“I’d like to know a bit more about you. Tell me about yourself?”
He eyed her with a dubious frown. “Really?”
She blushed, but wasn’t about to hold back. She felt it was important that she know. “I’d like to know more about the pony who helped me.”
Now he blushed, glancing away and scratching his head with a lopsided smile. “Ya make me sound like a hero.”
“Maybe you are,” she replied sweetly. “Maybe you’re my hero.”
Big Mac's cheeks were burning – a true feat considering their color. “If ya say so.” He considered her request for a few quiet seconds, ears laid flat. “Ah’m not that int’restin.”
“Please.” She set a hoof to his shoulder. “I’ll listen. We have time, after all.”
He glanced away with that silly smile once more. “Whaddaya wanna know?”
She thought for a moment, trying to pick something that would hit upon her preferred subjects. She eyed the working collar on his back and smiled. “Family. Tell me about home.”
This mare was getting more confusing by the hour. First she acts like he’s a nopony, then she tries to seduce him, then she gets all offended because he was too busy to fall for it, then she acts all high and mighty until she nearly gets killed by the cold, and now she wanted to know everything about him! But Big Mac knew his own share of crazy mares – Applejack’s friends quickly came to mind – and if he could survive them, then he could survive this one.
But at least she was being pleasant for a change. He didn’t mind talking about his family, and the more he talked the more she opened up. She seemed outright happy! In a way, she was almost a completely different pony. After a time he even started to enjoy the conversation. He couldn’t get her to talk about herself, though. It bothered him, but he tried not to worry about it.
A few hours after they’d begun the walk, his side began to ache again. She used her magic to deaden the pain a second time, and he was appreciative, but he knew the wound would need proper treatment. His first stop after getting her back to civilization would be the hospital. Not that he expected the wound to be serious, but he’d rather it be taken care of properly. There was no hiding the fact that her spell, though welcome, wasn’t doing anything to actually help the wound heal.
He wasn’t used to talking so much. It was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but she didn’t want to stop. He had told her of Applejack and Apple Bloom, Granny Smith, his parents. She wanted to know abut the Apple Family Reunions, about life on the farm. When he’d nearly exhausted his personal life, she wanted to know more about his friends! He didn’t understand why she was so…enthralled with this information, but he tried to be accommodating. After all, her attention was flattering.
And Fleur was a heck of a lot prettier when she was smiling.
Big Mac could only talk for so long, so he was intensely relieved when they finally came upon the familiar path to Ponyville. He offered to bring her to town, but she turned the offer down and chose to head for Fine Crime’s place. Big Mac decided to go with her; after all, Fine was probably worried sick. What if he’d gone into the forest looking for them?
That was his excuse, at any rate.
“You really don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Fleur told him. “I know you’re eager to get that wound looked at.”
“Ah said ah’d get ya back ta civilization,” he reminded her. “We ain’ there, yet.”
She smiled that pretty smile of hers. “You’re a true gentlepony, Mr. McIntosh. I wish I had some way to properly repay you for the kindness.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied. At that moment he really meant it.
They went the rest of the way in silence. Big Mac watched Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Her head hung low, her body was caked in more dirt than his own, and her step was heavy. But she didn’t stop smiling. By the shine in her eyes, he thought her pleasure was genuine. Yes, she definitely seemed like a whole new pony.
But he liked this new Fleur. Now that he thought on it, he was a little sad to think that she’d go back to Canterlot. He’d probably never see her again.
Maybe that was for the better. She was a famous supermodel, and deserved some rich stallion. Big Mac would just have to be satisfied with the fond memory of her smile. After all, his life was with his family and his farm.
They at last reached Fine’s place, its imposing towers standing like sentinels above the trees. Fleur pulled the cord by the front door, and an ominous bell resounded in their ears. Fine opened the door a few seconds later.
“There you are!” He wrapped the taller Fleur in a hug. “Thank Luna, I thought I’d lost you!”
Fleur blinked and returned the hug awkwardly. “You were worried?”
“No, I just like copping feels via free hugs,” Fine snapped, stepping back. “Of course I was worried! Big Mac, you still alive?”
“Eeyup.”
“Glad to hear it!” The two exchanged a hoofbump, Fine grinning from ear to ear. “Do you know what AJ would do to me if I had to tell her ya got killed?”
Big Mac chuckled, imagining the sight of his sister ripping Fine a new one. But the image was also sobering. “Ah should head home. They’ll all be worried.”
“Are you sure?” Fine asked. “You’ve got to be famished! At least let me get ya something to eat.”
“Nnope.” Big Mac shook his head with a smile. “Ah’m pretty sure the family will be feedin’ me plenty.”
Fine eyed him and his wound, the skepticism plain on his face. “Well, if you insist. But thanks for bringing Fleur back. I’m sure she was a hoof-full. I owe ya double.”
Big Mac waved a dismissive hoof and shot Fleur a charming grin. “Ah’d do it again in a heartbeat. Miss de Lis.”
He started to turn away, but Fleur stopped him with a hoof to his shoulder. She gave him a smile and lowered her horn to his wound, casting her spell yet again. “There, so it’ll last you all the way home.”
He smiled. “Thank ya, ma—”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “That’s for everything else.”
He blinked and stared for a moment. His cheeks began to burn, which only made her smile broaden. He glanced at Fine, who was watching Fleur with a raised eyebrow, then gazed at her once more. “Uuhh…thanks.”
He left, feeling strangely lightheaded.