//------------------------------// // Ground Rules // Story: Reddux the Tyrant // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Reddux the Tyrant Chapter VIII Ground Rules Fancy’s heart was about as low in his chest as the sun was high. Both had been in their respective positions for what he presumed was a solid two days, though he imagined it wouldn’t be long before everypony lost track of time. Rumor had it the most powerful mages in Equestria were working together in an attempt to recreate the magic required to move the sun again, but if so they were clearly having no luck. Fancy had never realized just how much he took the night for granted until now. He was sweating in his officer’s uniform, and could only wonder how the armor would feel. Fortunately Sir Deeds had issued orders to stick to the non-combat uniforms for the time being, lest the guards and soldiers all collapse from being boiled in their armor. He was standing in the grass next to the road, the entire 42nd squadron close by. Captain Feathers was sitting next to him, her eyes wandering from the sun to him every now and then. Her orange wings kept shifting open and closed in small twitches. “They’re late,” she grumbled. His eyes were still set on the castle to the west. His answer was a subdued “How can you tell?” She sneered and flapped her wings. “I just can.” “Right.” She glanced at him, then back at the castle. “You really shouldn’t stare so much. Ponies will start thinking you’re a jilted lover.” Fancy groaned and covered his face in both hooves. “Not you too…” “What?” Oak looked up at the sky, not appearing at all amused. “You’re the one who keeps staring like you wish you were at her side every minute of every day. You’re not part of the Royal Guard, y’know.” “Maybe I should’a been,” he grumbled, kicking at the grass. “I know there’s nothing I can do for the princess, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous. She should be recovering in Canterlot right now.” “I’m sure Sir Deeds’ advisors had a solid reason for recommending she stay here.” She glared up at the sky for the thousandth time. “Is that why you joined up? To serve Celestia?” He blinked and turned to examine her, but she seemed more interested in the soldiers that hadn’t shown up yet. “Not at all. My joining had nothing to do with Celestia.” Oak snorted and glanced back at her soldiers, who were milling about and chatting quietly amongst one another. She wiped sweat from her brow and sat, her wings fluffing a couple times. “So why are you here?” Fancy considered keeping his reasons to himself. She didn’t seem all that interested anyway. Still, it wasn’t as though it was a secret. He stared down at his hooves and sneered. “My parents – my father – wants me to live a sheltered life as an elite pony. Never do anything dangerous, never mingle with the commoners, never do anything for myself. I ran off to join the army because I want my life to have more value than that.” She at last turned to him, lips set in a thin frown. “Daddy issues? That’s why you joined the army?” He stiffened at her tone. “No, not ‘daddy’ issues. He’s just one part of a bigger problem.” She cocked her head. “What problem?” “The Canterlot Problem.” He glared up at the sun. “All those elite snobs sitting up there in their mansions, perfectly content to go about their petty, selfish and self-righteous lives. The vast majority have never even broken a sweat before.” He shot her a determined glare. “I’m not going to be like that. I’m going to earn my titles. When ponies look at me, they’ll know exactly why I am an elite, and it won’t have anything to do with my heritage.” She considered him for a moment, her muzzle raised and her frown as firm as ever. But then she smirked and turned back to the road. “You’re either an idiot or very noble. Probably the first one. Still, it’s better than what I was expecting.” “And what, pray tell, were you expecting?” Oak shrugged. “For you to be some idealistic foal thinking he could join the army for glory and honor, spend a few years looking pretty in a uniform and go home claiming to be a hero.” She shook her head with a scowl. “You’d be amazed how many rich wannabe-Hurricanes show up thinking they’re already a tactical genius right out of training.” Fancy sighed and shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t think I would.” She shot him another smirk. “Well at least this rich wannabe has a decent reason behind his stupidity.” They shared a chuckle that didn’t last long enough. Her eyes soon turned down the road again, and his were back to lingering on the castle. Feeling just a touch awkward and scrambling for a new topic, Fancy asked, “So why’d you join?” “Family legacy,” she replied almost immediately, like she was ready for the question. “Twenty generations of Feathers have been in the military in some fashion. We have stories going all the way back to before the Great Divide.” Now it was her turn to have his attention; he turned to gape as if meeting her for the first time. “Really? That’s incredible.” She huffed. “Incredible my line lasted that long. There were never many Feathers; we keep dying young.” He frowned and studied her face. She held a hard expression, her lips still set in that thin frown and her eyes locked on something in the distance. “You think you won’t survive this conflict.” She tensed and averted her eyes. Fancy set a hoof to her shoulder. “I was recently told by somepony that we all have a destiny. I trust that pony implicitly, but I also think our actions can help destiny out. You’re not going to die, Oak.” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. Her voice was as hard as her eyes. “You have no way of knowing that.” He smiled and shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s not going to stop me from believing. I’ll have your back, Captain.” He cocked her head with a bemused frown. “Careful, rich colt, the guys might think you’re coming on to me… and considering I’m married, that wouldn’t be a good thing.” He pulled his hoof away from her shoulder and raised his legs, not losing that smile. “Perish the thought! Although I do have to wonder why it is everypony assigns romantic elements to everything I do.” “You make it easy,” she replied with a grin before turning back to the road. “You’re a nice guy, Fancy. Handsome too. Don’t be surprised if you get back from the war and find all the elite fillies fawning over you.” He ducked his head with a small blush and busied himself with adjusting his uniform. “That’s more of a nuisance than you know.” She chuckled and shot him a knowing glance. “Something you have experience with, huh?” The burn in Fancy’s cheeks intensified as he averted his gaze. “Let’s just say there’s more than one benefit to not being in Canterlot anymore. So,” he added before she could embarrass him further, “Married, eh? Where’s Mr. Feather, then?” “Back in Cloudsdale,” she replied, her smile broadening a touch. “Trying to keep our daughter from doing something stupid and getting herself killed.” He grinned. “She sounds rambunctious.” “Oh, she’s a hooffull.” Oak laughed and shook her head. “I don’t know how he manages to keep her under control without me. She’s always going on about ‘Wonderbolts’ this and ‘Wonderbolts’ that. Her daily practices are enough to give us both heart attacks.” Oak’s entire demeanor shifted as she spoke; her eyes went from hard to glowing, her wings spread just slightly and her lips split in a broad grin. The sight made him smile. “So what’s her name?” “Spitfire.” Oak gazed up at the sun, but for once there was no agitation on her face. “She’s my beautiful little athlete. She really is gonna join the Wonderbolts, I just know it.” Fancy couldn’t help basking in her pride. He didn’t bother to say anything, lest he ruin the mood. Turned out no help was necessary; Oak abruptly wilted, her smile turning into a dour frown. She looked up at the sun, now tapping her hoof with that impatience she’d so recently lost. The castle was suddenly very interesting again. Fancy shuffled his hooves and wondered if he shouldn’t ask about the shift in Oak’s demeanor. Maybe he’d already pried a little too deeply. The silence lingered, and the urge to ask tightened about his brain until he was on the verge of blurting out the words. He was rescued by a familiar sound rising from the distance: marching. “It’s about darn time.” Oak promptly flew back to her squadron, barking orders and trying to get her team in formation. Fancy retreated from the road to stand apart from them, though he kept a little closer to the front than most. He was, after all, an officer. Still, being the only non-pegasus joining the battalion, he felt rather awkward. It was several minutes before the soldiers appeared on the road, the dust from their march being the first indicator. The 42nd squadron ponies were lined up and at attention by the time the first stallion marched into view. Soon the entire battalion could be seen, heads held high. Fancy couldn’t help but notice that the Earth ponies leading the battalion were still in their armor. The idea alone made him sweat. But the battalion wasn’t comprised of just Earth ponies; a small number of pegasi followed, uniformed in silver and appearing no less proud despite the sweat pouring off of them. At the rear were unicorns in similar attire, though their numbers were fewer still. If there were a hundred pegasi, the unicorns could be no more than half that. At the head of the battalion was a lone Earth pony, whose armor was distinctly different. While all the other earth ponies wore iron, his was steel. Fancy let out a small whistle at the sight of it; even officers didn’t get steel except under extreme circumstances. The commanding officer called a halt just before the battalion reached the waiting 42nd. He turned about to bark orders, and the soldiers all relaxed; pegasi stretched wings, Earth ponies removed their helmets and wiped sweat from their brows. The unicorns moved about casting spells, presumably to help stave off the heat. That done, the officer walked up to Captain Feathers, removed his helmet and saluted, revealing a light brown coat and pale blue mane. His green eyes were about as hard as his voice was gruff. “Colonel Geri Mander, Commander of the 8th Batallion.” Oak returned the salute. “Captain Oak Feathers, Her Majesty’s 42nd.” They exchanged a hoofbump. “I was beginning to wonder when you guys would show up.” “The heat caused some problems,” the colonel replied with a scowl. “Had to allow extra breaks.” “Understood.” Oak surveyed the soldiers. “How long before we’re underway?” “Half an hour.” Oak nodded. “Then we’ll launch in fifteen minutes.” “That will do.” Colonel Mander turned his eyes on Fancy. “Is that him?” “The survivor? That’s him.” Colonel Mander’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly he was marching towards Fancy. Fancy saluted as the stallion stopped in front of him. “Sir, First Lieutenant Fancy Pants, reporting for duty.” The colonel returned the salute, but his expression was as hard as ever. “You’re not in the 8th, First Lieutenant, you’re now a guard for Guardia del Este, and I’m foalsitting you until you get there.” Fancy blinked. “Sir, I—” “Shut it.” His mouth clamped closed so fast his teeth clicked. Colonel Mander eyed him with a deep frown. “You’re either the stupidest rich colt alive, or the bravest. I don’t care that you survived Sueño; for all I know that’s more on account of dumb luck than skill. You’re no hero, First Lieutenant, so don’t go acting like one.” “Hero?” Fancy stepped forward to glare into the stallion’s eyes. “What I saw was not fun, Colonel. Don’t pretend your tough guy demeanor will be enough to get through what’s coming. I didn’t volunteer for this to strut around like some Canterlot peacock.” The colonel’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t lose his hard expression. He stared right back at Fancy, who could almost see the gears churning behind those eyes. “We shall see.” The colonel snorted and nodded towards the battalion. “You’ll be in the rear with my unicorns. Try to keep up, rich colt.” He turned away without another word. Fancy watched him go with a scowl; steel armor or not, he was seriously considering putting a black mark on that stallion’s flank. That golf club wouldn’t look so— Golf club? Sure enough, Fancy saw that the colonel’s cutie mark was a golf club, with two golf balls. “You’ve got to be joking.” “Fancy, you’ve got balls.” He turned to find Oak grinning at him. “Excuse me?” She pointed to the colonel, who was busy talking with some of his officers. “I’ll have you know that Colonel Mander once beat up four griffons with his bare hooves. You just stood hoof-to-hoof with one of the toughest stallions alive.” “Four griffons?” Fancy felt his stomach do a flip. “Why was he in a fight with four griffons?” “He was in Grypha during the Selene River incident.” She raised an eyebrow at his wide eyes. “What, don’t you know your military history?” “I know all about the Selene River conflict,” he replied as he studied the colonel’s backside. “I never expected to meet a still-active veteran from it, though. How old is he, fifty?” “Something like that. He’s not only the toughest soldier there is, he’s also one of the oldest. Celestia tried to make him a general a decade ago, but he wouldn’t take the promotion. Dunno why.” “Huh.” Fancy turned away from the colonel, the better to hide his smirk. “With a cutie mark like that, he has to be tough. And you say I’ve got balls.” Oak snorted and covered her lips, shoulders shaking. “K-keep that kind of thing to yourself! I thought you nobles were above that kind of vulgarity.” “Lance grows on you,” he replied with a smirk… but it faded immediately. He looked east, to the sea, and felt a familiar vise on his heart. Oak sighed and patted his shoulder. “You’ll get some justice, Fancy. One way or another.” She gestured to the soldiers on the road. “Why don’t you find a place for the march? I’ve got to get the Redwings set.” “Yeah… I’ll do that. Be careful out there, Captain.” She smiled and nodded. “You too, First Lieutenant. I’ll see you on the march.” Fancy left her to her squadron, making his way to the back of the battalion. He kept his eyes on his hooves, mind slowly churning over unpleasant memories. He wished he’d not mentioned Lance. When we meet in the afterlife, I’m gonna kick your tail straight to Tartarus. So you better not die, ‘cause I’m gonna make your afterlife miserable! You have been given a gift, the gift of life. Do not throw that gift away on foalish endeavors. Live, Fancy, and shine as fate intended you to. “I know,” he grumbled with a sneer. “Both of you, I know.” He was abruptly aware of being watched. He glanced up just in time to see the entire battalion looking in some other direction. There was a strange urgency in him, and he picked up his pace as he continued for the back of the line. Those unicorns not working on cooling off the others sat in small groups, chatting amongst themselves. More than a couple eyes turned to Fancy as he approached. He was considering where to sit when a mare waved him over. Next to her was as good as any other location, so he joined her. The pink unicorn was sitting among a half-dozen others, all watching curiously as he sat amongst them. “You must be Fancy Pants,” she said with a voice that seemed a little too high-pitched. He leaned back at her light tone. “Uh… that’s me.” She brushed her curly blonde fringe from her face and peered at him. “Well, you’re a big fella. I expected you to be more muscular, though.” Fancy scratched the back of his head. “Err… okay?” Her words abruptly finished running through his brain. “Wait, why would you be building expectations about me?” One of the younger stallions leaned towards him with wide eyes. “Did you really survive the Slaughter of Sueño?” With a wince, Fancy glanced away. “Y-yeah, I was there.” A round of gasps made his ears fold back. “How many dragons were there?” “Did you really fight them off all by yourself?” “How big were they?” “Is it true you fought them the entire night?” “They say you were fighting for a mare. Who was she?” “I heard you stood up to Reddux himself!” “Did you really blast the fort apart just to get at the dragons?” “Whoa, whoa!” He raised his hooves to ward off their verbal assaults. “What are you ponies talking about?” The pink unicorn shot a small beam that erupted in the center of the group, and they all promptly clamped their jaws. She cast a glare at the lot of them. “Keep your questions to yourselves! I doubt Fancy wants to even think about that right now.” “No, seriously.” Fancy scanned them, noting that more than a few ponies from the other groups were eyeing him again. “Where did you guys hear all of… of that?” She offered a weak smile. “You’re kind of a living legend right now. Rumors fly fast.” He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Great. That’s all I need.” Suddenly the colonel’s words made a lot more sense. “Please tell me I’m not being depicted as some self-important ‘hero’ figure.” “Nopony knows,” one of the younger stallions pointed out. “All we’ve got are rumors.” “So unless you want to tell us about it,” a mare ventured with a smile. He stomped the ground and glared at them. “No, I do not want to tell you about it. It was bad enough going through it once!” They all winced at his glare. Some looked away, having the decency to show their shame. “Nopony’s gonna bother you about it,” the pink pony declared before turning to peer at her comrades. “Are they?” None of them bothered to reply; their averted gazes said enough. Fancy sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly the best first impression, was it?” “It’s alright, First Lieutenant.” She gestured to herself with a grin. “I’m Frosty Sundae, Private First Class.” They exchanged hoofbumps. Fancy offered a weak smile. “I’d say I’m Fancy Pants, but apparently everypony already knows that.” She introduced him to the rest of the ponies in their circle, and he tried to be friendly with them. It was hard, considering he kept thinking about Lance and Sparks. And Celestia; more than once he found himself glancing towards the castle. Frosty noticed, but held her question back until the last of the ponies had been introduced. “Is it true? Is Celestia really in a coma?” He grimaced and shook his head. “It’s not a coma, it’s a regenerative sleep. She’s simply recovering from her injuries.” He tried to keep his tone light as he cast another furtive look towards the castle. “But she’s unconscious,” Frosty said. “Dead to the world, right?” Fancy stared at his hooves. “Well… yes. She won’t be able to help us for a while.” Murmurs filled the air. There wasn’t a smile in sight after this revelation. Frosty glanced at the others with a small frown but made no attempt to quiet them. Instead she leaned towards Fancy and said, “I know you probably get this a lot, First Lieutenant, but… why? Why did you volunteer to join us?” He groaned. “You’re right, I am getting that question a lot, and I’m sick of answering it. I have my reasons, okay?” He frowned up at the sun. “Maybe, if we’re all alive after this, I’ll tell you.” “Works for me,” Frosty replied, though she was pouting. Just then there were calls running down the line, and everypony stood. Fancy found himself set in place between Frost and an older stallion. The long, hot march had begun. Fleur’s hooves were heavy and sweat dripped from her brow. She’d given up trying to wipe the stuff away some time ago. Everywhere she looked, there was cracked, brownish-red dirt. It was a desert, plain and simple. She knew they weren’t in the Badlands just yet – the occasional patch of dried grass or grove were grim reminders of that fact. Still, she felt like this area qualified for the title. She hefted her bags with a grunt and plodded along, resisting the very strong urge to drink some of her water. Yet as unhappy as she was, she refused to complain. She looked to Fine, walking just a few feet before her with his head low. He still carried all of his bags, outright refusing to let her help. She had no idea if his manner was due to paranoia or him being a gentlepony. His ever-present glower suggested the former; his insistence that she always sleep in the tent suggested the latter. A quick glance at the immobile sun left a sinking feeling in her gut. Fine had received a letter from somepony in a poof of magic, informing them of Celestia’s ‘draw.’ The knowledge that the single most powerful pony in Equestria had been so terribly injured continued to leave Fleur with a cold feeling, but almost as disturbing was how not disturbed Fine had been. Fine’s reaction was difficult for her to define. Had he been scared? Angry? Traumatized? She couldn’t be sure. The word ‘annoyed’ most frequently came to mind. When pressed, he summed up his entire reaction in one sentence: “Maybe now she’ll finally wake up.” What the hay was that even supposed to mean? He wouldn’t elaborate, though, and he had been very quiet ever since. Something told her ‘quiet’ described him very well. And moody; she’d not seen him smile once since they’d begun walking south. Fleur was glaring at his backside when she noticed the object in the distance. She peered at it, trying to make out a shape. It took nearly a minute for her to determine that it wasn’t living and winged. “Mr. Crime?” He groaned and shook his head. “Please, call me Fine. It’s not like I’m begging to be caught.” She tilted her head at him; those words were more than he’d said in a very, very long time. “Umm… it’s just… look.” Fine raised his head, eyes immediately locking on the object in the distance. “Oh, good. I was beginning to think we’d never get there, what with this infernal eternal sunlight.” For a moment Fleur found herself trying to say ‘infernal eternal’ without getting tongue tied, but shook herself out of it quickly. “What is it?” “Guardia del Este.” He huffed a small laugh and added dryly, “Enjoy it while it lasts.” She moved forward so she was walking beside him and tried to look him in the eye. “What are we going to do there?” “Ask questions,” he replied as if this were all the answer she needed. “What kind of questions?” she asked with a frown. “The kind most ponies can’t answer.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “And those who can are either insane or criminals.” She took a moment to consider this response. “Fine… what exactly are we trying to discover?” “You are not trying to discover anything,” he replied with head held high. “You’re going to wait for me outside the fort while I go inside and ask the questions.” She frowned and shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Why would I wait out here? I might be able to help.” “That I find highly dubious.” ‘Highly dubious?’ Where did he get these odd phrases? “How do you know I can’t help if you won’t let me try?” she demanded. He eyed her with his usual sullen frown. “You’re lucky I’m letting you tag along at all. Not that I can help it, considering that damn spell you put on me. When the hay does it wear out, anyway?” “As if I’d tell you,” she grumbled. It took her a few steps to realize he’d stopped. She turned to find him watching her, his expression unchanged but his eyes a little harder. Sitting down, she returned his frown and maintained a calm demeanor… but there was a rising feeling in her chest. He’d never really responded to her before. He leaned forward to peer at her. “I think I might just leave you at the fort.” She tensed and copied his motion. “You can’t. I’ll just follow you.” “I could always just tell one of them who you are,” he countered. “I bet the commander of the base wouldn’t mind returning you to Estéril Pezuñas. Brownie points from your uncle.” Fleur ground her teeth and stood to give him the full force of her glare. “I am never going back to him.” “Then run away.” He gestured to the desert all around them. “Take some of my supplies and just disappear.” “Not until you teach me,” she snapped. “You said you would, but I haven’t learned one spell from you!” He rolled his eyes. “I am not your foalsitter. I am on a mission. I’ve told you this before. Or do you actually want to enter the Badlands?” She blinked and looked towards the fort over her shoulder. “You mean… the fort’s not your last stop? Where the hay are you even going?” When she looked back, he had his eyes closed and appeared to be concentrating. His horn shined brightly, small sparks rising from the tip. For an instant she felt her chest tighten with worry… but nothing happened. Seconds passed as he strained, the light of his horn pulsating in various degrees of frequency. At last it dimmed and he sagged, sweat dripping from his brow as he panted. Fleur glanced around, her anger lost. “What was that supposed to do?” He shook his head, rubbing the area just below his horn with a scowl. “Would have been the perfect opportunity to get it right. Oh well…” He started walking again, his eyes on his hooves. “I wish you’d listen to reason.” She sniffed and fell in step alongside him. “Yes, because abandoning a filly in the middle of the desert is perfectly reasonable.” He paused and turned his head to stare at her. Then something happened so shocking she thought Tartarus may have frozen over: he smiled. “Point taken.” He moved on without another word, leaving her to gape like a fish. She hurried to catch up. “Does this mean you’ll teach me now?” “Nope. Just means I’ll leave you in the fort instead of out here.” “Oh, really?” She came along beside him and leveled a dark smile his way. “And should I tell the guards that you kidnapped me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You really think they’d believe that?” Fleur abruptly threw herself onto him and let out a cry. He stumbled back with a sneer and tried to pull her off, but she locked her hooves around his neck and sagged, putting all her weight on him. “Please, he’s been hurting me and touching me! Don’t make me stay with that terrible stallion, he makes me do horrible things! I just want to go home!” She brought out the waterworks and pressed her cheek to his chest, sobbing. “What the buck?” He pried at her hooves but couldn’t loosen them. “Get off me, you crazy pony!” “Uncle Daring told me not to talk to strangers, but he seemed so n-nice and offered me sweet rolls and told me he had more! Then he brought me into a dark tavern room and sh-showed me his—” “Alright, I get it!” Fine’s face was burning as he snarled. “Let me go, for buck’s sake, I won’t leave you behind!” An instant later, Fleur was standing apart from him, wiping her cheeks and smirking. “Why, thank you.” Fine brushed himself off, but couldn’t get the crimson out of his face. “Where the hay did you learn to do that?” Her smile faded and she glanced away. “I told you, I was on my own for a year. It was either learn to manipulate feelings or die.” He blinked, his cheeks finally returning to their normal colors. “You mean you had to get good at begging.” Now it was Fleur who was blushing. Her ears lowered and she gave a small nod. “It didn’t always work, though.” “I imagine not.” Fine stared at her for some time, and she could only shuffle her hooves. “You’ve really had it rough, haven’t you?” She glared at him. “What, was my little breakdown the other day not evidence enough for you?” Fine turned away and gestured for her to follow. She did so, but kept her distance. Her eyes remained locked on her hooves as she tried to get bad memories out of her mind. “It dawns upon me that I may have made a mistake.” He glanced back at her and waited for her to catch up. “You really want to learn from me?” “Of course I do,” she whispered, not raising her eyes. “I need to learn to protect myself.” “And just how far are you willing to go to do so?” She raised her head to stare at him. There was something about his tone that kept her from snapping one of her usual comebacks. “What do you mean?” He was gazing forward, his eyes glazed over in thought. “I always intended to leave you at the fort. There’s a solid chance I’ll be entering the Badlands, and I didn’t want you to go out there with me. Yet I’m coming to realize that you’re not like most foals your age.” He leveled her with a firm expression. “The only way I’m going to be able to teach you is if you come with me everywhere I go. I travel a lot, and my job tends to involve threats of the fatal variety.” “I’m not afraid,” she reminded him, raising her head high. “Not yet.” He turned his gaze to the distant fort. “It’s no longer my decision to bring you along; it’s now your decision whether or not to follow. You need to be aware of the risks.” Fleur’s heart leapt into her throat and a grin split her lips. “I’ll take it! The risks are worth—” He raised his hoof, effectively silencing her. “Not so hasty. I’m still leaving you outside of the fort.” “What? But you said—” “Let me finish.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she clamped her mouth shut. “I’ll go inside, talk to the ponies I need to talk to, then come back for you. After that I’ll know where I’m going next, and you can decide if you want to come with me or not. If you do, then I promise to teach you a few things and let you know a bit more about my work.” He pressed a hoof to her chest, stopping her mid stride as he peered into her eyes. “This is important, Fleur. You need to think carefully about what I’m offering you. I know you think the risk is worth it, but you learning from me will be worth less than Discord’s butt crack if you end up dead a week from now. Don’t. Just. Say. ‘Yes.’” Seconds passed in silence. They stared at one another, Fleur’s heart beating just a little faster than normal as he kept her eyes locked with his. She abruptly remembered that glare he’d given her in her room, the one that had so effectively terrified her. This wasn’t even close to the same intensity, but it had a similar impact. For just a moment, Fleur wondered if his eyes weren’t enchanted. “I understand,” she said at last. “Good.” He turned away and resumed his walk. “Just think carefully, that’s all I ask.”