The scent of warm earth and animal fur was pleasant and welcome to Fluttershy. To her it reminded her of the forests and plains, of the running animals for which she shared her affinity for compassion. The foods and kibbles stored behind oaken doors sustained them, and the heat of sleeping bodies hung in the air.
The hearth in Fluttershy’s cottage was alight with flickering flames. Two large, overstuffed armchairs were pointed towards the fire, but one of them was filled. Looking back towards the door nervously, she swallowed, steeled her shaky nerves, and hopped into the adjacent chair.
He was a rather dignified looking unicorn dressed entirely in white, although red stitching along his lapels and tophat seemed to glow in the firelight. His charcoal fur made his red eyes stick out all the more. He was currently nursing a wineglass with some unidentified amber liquid. Without even shifting to greet his guest—it wasn’t even his house—he pushed an identical glass across the tabletop between them. Fluttershy stared at the fireplace. The heat and warmth of it or the presence of her home was no comfort at all.
“Back so soon?” he asked politely. He had a very calm, soothing tenor. “Come now, my dear; no need for bad manners.”
“This is my house,” she replied.
“In more ways than one.” He tipped the glass to his lips and drained a portion, sighing contently. “Are you afraid of me?”
The smells. The warmth. The sense of peace and calm. Everything that she could hold onto and form a bastion of comfort vanished into smoke and disappeared into the evening. “Why do you keep coming back?”
“That is not an answer.” She could feel his eyes staring at her. The side of her face began to itch. “You’ve never asked me to leave.”
True. WIthout looking for him, she grasped the wineglass and sipped. It reminded her of the wine at Cadance’s and Shining’s wedding, pleasant with a peach aftertaste. “Will you go if I ask you to?”
“No.” The bluntness finally made her look at him. He did not mock her, and the aged lines on his face relayed no sense of amusement. Before she could even protest, he set his own glass down and added, “You must understand, love, I--”
“Please go,” she begged. That careful mirror of calm she’d shown Applejack developed a crack. Voice quavering, she said it again, “Please leave me alone.”
Smokey, red eyes flashed in the low light. They reminded her of the princess, strong, unyielding, and hiding their true emotions. “You know I can’t.” He swirled the contents of his glass before sighing. “When offered help is denied, the crux of the issue is largely one of two reasons: pride and fear. People and ponies do not like to appear weak, so the olive branch is shunned to keep up pretenses. It is a basic fear of what others think of you, that when the time comes they might not have faith in you when it is of utmost importance.”
She dared to look in his eyes yet again. No malice, no fear, no evil. Yet being in his mere presence made her fur stand on end. “Fear, however, is another breed of monster altogether.
“The most pure of paladins wanders the most wicked of lands, cleansing it of evil. One day he encounters an evil warlord who needs the paladin’s help to defeat a particularly bothersome criminal. The criminal is pillaging the lands indiscriminately. The bandit was cudgemoney cur to be sure, but the innocent needed to be protected first before the paladin could fight the warlord. Out of necessity, great good and great evil work together.” The stallion smiled. “But what if it doesn’t stop there? The warlord, a known beast in his own right, continually assigns work to the paladin to cleanse evil. To protect his honor and stay faithful to his patron god, the paladin must protect those unable to defend themselves from evil...”
The stallion set his empty glass on the table. The sound set a note of finality trough the room. “Even with good intentions, good can be tainted. Without even realizing it, the paladin had become an apprentice. It is the fear of what becomes of us when clemency and aid is granted. It is the fear of what becomes of us when such responsibilities must be carried on our own shoulders. So... If you truly want me gone, look me in the eye and swear with every fiber of your being you want me gone forevermore. I want to see that fire in your eyes, my dear, and until I do, I am not going anywhere. Your desire to be rid of me isn’t strong enough, and that is why is eats at your heart so much; you want me gone out of fear, not determination. You are not afraid of me, you are afraid of becoming me.”
The crackling fire was dying now, its supply of fuel all but diminished. Fluttershy took another gulp of wine to settle her nerves. “What do you want me to do?”
A smile spread across his muzzle. “Oh, my wonderful, charming mistress: nothing. I’m here because you invited me, not because I desire to control you. You know exactly why, so command me as you wish.” He gave her a respectful nod. “Best decide what you wish to do before the monsters consume you, though; they won’t leave no matter how far you go, little one, and I can hear them clawing at the walls.”
Flashes of memory burst into her mind. Canterlot strewn with panicked screams and rubble in the streets. The stench of burning flesh that summoned carrion for a disgusting and abominable feast. Rarity, howling in agony to the smoky skies choked with ash of buildings and the fallen. A corpse still warm to the touch, its skin burnt while a pair of eyes bled accusations into her soul.