His legs kicking, Tarnished Teapot awoke, opened his eyes, and saw a dragon. He did what any pony half in and half out of a fever delirium would do when seeing a dragon. He screamed bloody murder and then slipped out of consciousness.
Gorgonzola shook her head. “Poor dear.”
“He’ll recover,” Maud said in her characteristic monotone. She glanced at Ortzi and then up at the dragon sitting on the sandy shore. “So, Gorgonzola, I’m curious. How did you become Grey Owl’s mother?”
The dragoness’ long neck whipped around and she looked at Maud. A pained expression crept over her features. “Oh, that’s a sad tale.” Gorgonzola shook her head and then bent her long neck to look down at the plain looking grey pegasus foal lying in the sand,
“I currently have nothing but time right now.” Maud looked down at her husband, who kicked and whimpered in his sleep. “And I really am curious.”
The dragoness’ head snaked down to be closer to her foal. “Without going into details, I came upon the pony I believe to be Grey Owl’s mother. I’m not certain which tribe she was… parts of her were eaten.” The dragoness heaved a sigh, sending a cloud of steam rising through the air. “Seeing it made me sad. I gathered up what was left of her and buried her under a pile of rocks.”
Reaching down, Maud stroked Tarnish’s sweaty brow.
“When I was about to fly away, I heard faint cries… weak cries.” The dragoness looked troubled. She raised her claws and scratched her belly. “I found a little pegasus foal stuffed into a tree hollow… it looked like an old owl’s nest. She was a newborn. Still had the cord. She was cold and she wasn’t doing very well.” Gorgonzola paused. “It’s pretty easy to figure out what happened. The mother gave birth in the wilds for whatever reason, perhaps it caught her by surprise, and it left her weak. Something gobbled her.”
“That’s upsetting,” Maud said.
“I had to rip open the tree to get the little pegasus foal out. I flew away with her, not knowing what to do. I flew to a farmer’s house, but they didn’t want her… and they didn’t want anything to do with me. I did manage to convince them to trade me a goat… since I wasn’t welcome, I flew off with the goat and the foal. I named her Grey Owl and I did my best to raise her.”
“That’s admirable.” Ortzi tilted his head to look up at the dragon.
“Look out, coconuts!” Tarnish shouted as he rolled over onto his back.
Hearing his words, Maud sighed. “Poor Tarnish, he was scarred by Pinkie. His fear of coconuts is all her fault.”
Ortzi blinked. “Now that has to be a funny story.”
“It’s dark.”
Ears perking, Maud lifted her head at the sound of Tarnish’s voice. She was tired, sleepy, but could not sleep because of her worry. Tarnish was a short distance away, sprawled in the sand.
“I’m thirsty,” Tarnish said in a raspy voice.
Maud rose from the warm sand where she had been laying, went to a large rock beside the fire, which had gone out, lifted up a cup of water in her teeth, and then took it over to Tarnish. She sat down beside him and then set the cup down in the sand near his head. She hooked her hoof beneath his jaw, lifted his head, and helped him hold his head over the cup. She could hear him lapping up water.
When he was done drinking, she cradled his head in her forelegs, pulled him close, and kissed him. He was sweaty and his pelt was damp. He was covered in sand and he smelled terrible. But Maud didn’t care. She had dealt with worse.
“How long have I been out?” Tarnished asked.
“This is the second night,” Maud replied. “The first night was pretty rough on you. Lots of diarrhea and vomiting.” Maud brushed Tarnish’s mane out of his eyes. “The little filly still hasn’t woken up yet, but she’s getting better. I think.”
“My butthole feels all puckered and chapped.”
Feeling bad, Maud gave Tarnish a squeeze. She pulled more of his body closer when she felt him shivering. She rubbed her chin against his ear and was rewarded with the sensation of Tarnish’s body going limp against her. It was time for happy husband hugs. She flopped over on the sand and spooned with Tarnish, holding him, rubbing his ears with her chin.
“We did a good thing,” Tarnish whispered.
Maud did not reply, but continued to spoon in silence. This was, perhaps, Tarnish’s second favourite activity. Cuddling. It was such a simple request and so easy to fulfill. Maud, reflecting upon the situation, realised that she must have a knack for this. Her sister Pinkie also loved to be held. In times of trouble, Limestone came begging for a hug. And Marble… sometimes it was hard to make Marble go away. This was simply another layer in the strata that was her personality, Maud supposed. Part of what made her The Rock.
Overhead, the stars twinkled as the pair lay in the sand together. Lifting up her hind leg, Maud threw it over Tarnish’s hips, resting the inside of her thigh against his poison joke cutie mark. It was warm and comfortable. Maud didn’t care if Tarnish was a bit sweaty, smelly, or sticky. At least he wasn’t exploding from both ends.
“Maud, when I get to feeling better, will you dance with me?” Tarnish asked.
“Of course,” Maud replied. Tarnish’s neck had grown longer. Maud had to stretch out now to reach him end to end and she wasn’t quite long enough. She scooted herself up along his back, rested her foreleg over his neck, and rested her chin just behind his ear, using him as a pillow. Beneath her, she felt Tarnish slip into slumber, his breathing becoming slow and regular.
It seemed the worst was over. Tarnish, while not a rock, was a durable pony.
Miserable, Tarnish huddled next to the fire during the grey hour of dawn. He was cold, clammy, itchy, and covered in sand. He had water boiling. He was starving. Before him was a box of macaroni-n-cheese, a tiny tin of butter, and a small tin of evaporated milk. He didn’t care if mac and cheese was a breakfast food or not. His mouth was watering for it.
A short distance away, Maud lay sleeping. She looked peaceful, slumbering in the soft, warm sand. He dumped the macaroni into the boiling water and then lifted up the kettle to pour water into a fresh batch of poison joke tea. When the fragrant smell hit his nose, he felt lightheaded. For a moment, he feared that he would fall over face first into the fire.
“Thank you,” Gorgonzola said in a soft voice, trying not to wake the others.
“It was nothing,” Tarnish replied as his stomach squelched, gurgled, and made strange squirty-squishy noises. “You didn’t tell me that the sword talks.”
“The sword talks?” The dragoness’ eye frill raised.
“Sword’s name is Flamingo. And she talks.” Tarnish gave careful thought to what he knew. “I don’t think she can talk while she’s sheathed. But if I pulled her out right now, she’d talk.”
“Fascinating.” Gorgonzola blinked as she watched Tarnish clutch his stomach. “I did not know this, I left the sword in the sheath after I found it.”
There was a hiss from the fire as Tarnish’s noodles boiled over. He grumbled a bit, staring at the fire, listening to the hiss, and wishing that the food was done now. He could almost taste the macaroni and cheese. He had no idea why it was so delicious, but he suspected it had something to do with the bright orange cheese powder. On the front of the box, there was a smiling purple pegasus saying that it was twenty percent cheesier.
How did one measure a twenty percent increase in cheesiness?
“I found the sword in an old, ruined castle in the Everfree Forest.”
Tarnish’s ears perked as he stirred his noodles.
“I found an old statue of a alicorn… a male statue. He looked very regal and was standing in a heroic pose. His stone base was cracked open and it was hollow inside. I saw the sword peeking out. I pulled it out and took it with me… I’m not like other dragons.” Gorgonzola’s voice softened and she sounded embarrassed. “I don’t really care about hoarding. But the sword… I couldn’t ignore it, I had to take it with me.”
Thinking of his magic primer, Tarnish nodded his head. “It might have been magical compulsion. Some treasures want to be found.”
He added honey to his tea and a bit of lemon. Scowling, he poured boiling water into his tea flask and swished it around inside, cleaning it. He poured it out, added more boiling water, shook it again, and then, using a small cheap plastic funnel, he poured in a fresh batch of tea. He set the flask down, unstoppered, so it could cool.
“You’re a brave pony,” Gorgonzola said.
“It isn’t about being brave… I just about peed on myself going into that cave.” Embarrassed, Tarnish hunched over the fire, wishing he could get warm. “It was the right thing to do. It was something that needed to be done. When I was down on my luck, somepony helped me. I don’t think I can ever pay them back, but that won’t stop me from spending the rest of my life trying to be the pony they think I am.”
Gorgonzola lowered her head down close to Tarnish, her long neck arching. “She saved you, didn’t she?”
Saying nothing in reply, Tarnish nodded. He stirred his noodles a little more and then fished one out with a spoon to see if it was tender. He blew on it, feeling cranky and impatient. He sucked it in and burned his tongue. The noodle was soft enough, but still a bit rubbery and chewy. He didn’t care.
Lifting the boiling pot, he clamped a lid on it, held it out over the sand, and poured the boiling water out of the pot. Once it was drained, he set the pan down on a flat rock. He cracked open the tin of butter, scooped out all of it, even though he only needed a few tablespoons, and then opened the tin of evapourated milk. He poured the can into the pan along with the butter and began stirring. He ripped open the paper packet of bright orange cheese powder and dumped that into his macaroni.
“Some debts are difficult to repay.” Gorgonzola’s voice was muted and did not sound anything like what a dragon should sound like. “You gave me back something more priceless than any pile of treasure. I feel as though I have cheated you—you gave me so much yet I gave you so little.”
“I would have done it for nothing,” Tarnish muttered.
Gorgonzola took a deep breath and wisps of steam curled out of her nostrils. “I believe you when you say that… and that is why she loves you.” The dragoness pointed with one long, curved claw at Maud.
Tarnish’s cold, clammy feeling was replaced by a warm full body blush. It felt good being warm. He stabbed into his pot of macaroni and cheese with his spoon, managed to smile, and then started gobbling it down, right out of the pot. It was runny from too much milk, greasy from too much butter, and it was delicious.