Chapter 5: The Liar, He Who Plays Both Ends Against the Middle
The Book of Water: The Heart of Winter
A Story by TalonMach5
Chapter 5: The Liar, He Who Plays Both Ends Against the Middle
He sat on his cold, unyielding, stone throne, as his wife’s magic sustained him. Without it, he was sure he’d have collapsed to the floor by now, totally unable to move like a newborn babe. Though he found it taxing, he felt it was important to hold his court at least for appearances sake. Something which he found incredibly amusing, as he reflected on it.
Even though he normally detested pointless frivolity and ceremony. Here he was, going through the motions for someone who might’ve been responsible for all the intrigue he’d suddenly found himself mired in. He might have laughed at the irony, if these events hadn’t left him in such dire straits. He was currently weak and vulnerable, and with the revelation that someone, or rather some changeling, had attempted stealing from him and tried unsuccessfully to kill his servants, was a sign that whoever was behind this plot thought him weak and an easy target. An error in their judgment which he intended to correct.
“Beloved?” he heard her ask.
Giving her a cursory glance, he saw his wife looking up at him from the throne she’d had their servants place beside his. He in all his many centuries of rule, with the exception of Nightmare, had never had another sitting alongside him. He supposed it leant a certain symmetry to the room, which his own throne by itself lacked. However the large blue satin pillowy cushion serving as her seat, lacked the stern gravitas that accompanied the unforgiving firmness of his own stone throne.
“Wife, what is it?” he asked her much sharper then he’d originally intended to. Turning to see what she’d wanted, and seeing the hurt reflected in her eyes, he immediately regretted his words. “Wife, my apologies. This new problem with the changelings, it has me troubled.”
When she heard him admit his worry, she felt gladdened. Finally, he trusted her enough to share a piece of himself with her. “Speak thy fears to us freely, husband,” she said, placing her hoof against his hand. “We shall attend to our enemy together.”
“Wife, I fear noth…” he started, fully intending to rebuke her for assuming he feared anything or anybody, before staying his tongue. Realizing her words were only born out of concern for their newly shared realm, he amended what he’d intended to say. “Wife, I only meant to say that I’m troubled by this plot that has somehow managed to elude me until now.”
“Husband, remember our promise to thee,” she said, looking into his burning green eyes. Though he steadfastly denied holding any fear or uncertainty, she saw a glimmer of incertitude festering within him. “We shall stand as warden for thee, until thou art able to resume thy duties unaided.”
“Wife, I require no one’s aid to hold onto my domain,” he said, trying desperately to believe his own lie.
Stung by his curt response, she gave him a frosty look, before drawing her hoof back. “Is that so, husband?” she replied, slowly withdrawing her divinity from him. “If thou hast no further need of us, we shall take our leave of thee.”
As all traces of her magic left him, he found his strength waning. Struggle as he might, he found it increasingly difficult to continue sitting upright on his throne. “Wife…” he said, raising his left hand to her. “There’s no need for you to leave. I’d appreciate your counsel once Queen Ambrosia arrives.”
Pleased that he’d finally began seeing things her way, Luna resumed supporting him with her divinity. She was so happy that he’d finally asked her for her help, she granted him an overly generous portion of her magic, making his normally pallid flesh grow flush and rosy.
“Dost thou desire anything more, our husband?” she innocently asked, her placid and tranquil smile, belying the ulterior motives she had for him. “We wish only to serve thee in whatsoever capacity thou desireth.”
Though she was trying to hide it, he could see that beneath the guise of innocence she wore, she fully intended to keep teasing him in this manner, until he yielded to his primal instincts. You damnable woman, he thought, feeling a mixture of anger and lust overtaking him. It was so frustrating being beholden to her. But unless his strength returned soon, this was his fate into the foreseeable future. To be a plaything for his wife’s amusement, and sating all the whims of her fancy.
“Beloved, is there something on thy mind?” she asked, looking deep into his flaming emerald eyes. “We think thou art somewhat distracted.”
No kidding, he bitterly thought, feeling his mind cloud, as the ever familiar hunger stalked him like a fearsome predator. Gazing into her eyes, he found himself drowning in their beauty once more. Like a siren’s song, they beckoned to him, imploring him to accept what she was offering him. But unwilling to give into her advances, or give her the satisfaction of having bested him, he slowly shook his head.
“Wife, I’m sorry. I was lost in thought, contemplating your beauty,” he said, hoping to appeal to her vanity.
When she heard him offering her a seemingly sincere complement, her soul sang and heart melted with the joy she felt within her. “Husband, we love thee,” she said, nuzzling her muzzle against his cheek.
Seeing her so happy, filled the Slave King’s mind with conflict. While it wasn’t a lie that he did find her both beautiful and pleasing, he resented what she represented, his slavery and imprisonment. And thus though his flesh desired to possess her, he found the idea of loving her in any way, both repulsive and vile.
He felt her eyes boring into his skull expectantly. He knew what she desired, and he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of hearing the sweet little lie she expected him to utter, in reciprocation for expressing to him her terms of endearment. “Wife, I want to thank you for your assistance,” he said, with a voice that was distant and cold, yet polite and cordial. “You’ve made dealing with my condition, somewhat more manageable then it might have otherwise been.”
“We thank thee, husband, for thy praise,” she said, trying to hide her hurt and disappointment as well as she could.
She’d fully expected him to tell her how much he loved her, how much he cared. But instead, all he offered her was indifferent praise. She felt her resentment towards him beginning to rise. Right now, he was entirely dependent on her for everything, as with his domain being subservient to hers, he was even more so then almost any other on the Pantheon. She longed to stand over him, commanding him to kiss her hooves and worship her as his queen, before loving her as his wife.
And what’s to stop you from doing exactly that? the voice asked, stoking her imagination with images of her humbling the Slave King as she remade him into a proper husband for herself.
We shan’t humor thee with a response, foul deceiver, she replied, annoyed by the voice’s unwelcome intrusion into her mind, and by her husband’s stubborn obstinance in refusing to show her the affection she desired… nay, was owed.
I sense you’re feeling slightly upset about something? the voice asked, knowing full well what had stoked her ire.
Cease thy wicked prattling! she demanded, frustrated by her failure to gain her husband’s affection and inability to banish the voice forever more from her mind. We know thou only seek to mock us, and inflame our misery.
What makes you say that, Luna? the voice asked, trying to sound as sincere as possible. You’re my friend, and I only wish to help you.
Ha! Thou art no friend of ours, she replied, furious that the voice thought itself worthy of her kinship. We have little desire for one such as thee, to call us friend.
Luna, you wound me with such callous words, the voice said, slightly offended that she’d summarily rejected the very notion of them ever being friends.
A true friend, woulds’t offer us solace, Luna said, feeling quite fed up with the voice’s continual attempts of making a fool of her. Not the falsehoods and half-trues thou hast only seen fit to utter with thy wicked, forked tongue, serpent.
Ah, but a true friend would show you how to get what you want, wouldn’t they? the voice countered, offering her images of the Slave King showering her with genuine affection and passion in the intimacy of their bed.
Luna felt herself blushing at the images, and wondered if the voice could make good on its promises. If thou wert our friend truly, thou woulds’t aid us, she said, hoping in her heart that what the voice promised was possible, and not nearly another one of its devious lies.
I don’t know, Luna, the voice smugly said, dangling out hope in front of her muzzle. Am I your friend?
By now, the princess of the night had had quite enough of the voice’s nonsense. Either prove thyself a true friend by aiding us, or leave us and never return, she demanded, offering the voice an ultimatum.
Well I suppose, I’d better put up or shut up as they say, the voice said, acknowledging her request. Very well, friend Luna, you simply need to properly use all the tools at your disposal.
Is that the extent of the font of thy boundless wisdom? Luna scoffed, unable to believe that she’d almost fallen for the voice’s trickery once again.
I wasn’t finished yet, princess, the voice dryly replied, clearly annoyed that she’d seen fit to mock it. You have leverage over your husband. I suggest you use it to get what you want.
When the voice mentioned leverage, she knew immediately what it meant. Her magic was sustaining him, without it he’d scarcely be able to lift his head, let alone sit upright unaided. Yes, she could easily demand his love. And if he refused, then perhaps her husband might find her magic lacking. But how could she ensure his cooperation, she didn’t want to push him into a corner after all.
Easy, Luna, the voice said, pleased by how quickly she’d taken to its suggestion. Let him know how distressed his lack of cooperation is making you feel.
Hmm, that was a rather good idea, perhaps the voice was on to something after all. It was no secret that her husband did have respect for keeping up appearances, maybe she could use that to her advantage. With a slight giggle, she imagined how wonderful it would be when he finally agreed to love her, as their imagined passionate exchange played out in her mind.
“Wife?” the Slave King asked, confused by her soft giggle, rosy cheeks, and blushing face. “Was my explanation of the treaty we currently have with the changeling hive, boring you?”
Realizing she’d just missed valuable information, made her bite her lip with worry. Perhaps he’d reject her out of hoof, if he thought she’d been ignoring him. “Nay, beloved,” she said, withdrawing her magic from him once more. “Our heart is unsure and filled with doubt.”
“Oh?” the Slave King said, suddenly feeling concerned. Perhaps Luna had discovered something regarding the treaty from his description that was detrimental to his interests. She was the more experienced politician after all. “Tell me, wife, should I be worried about my meeting with Queen Ambrosia then?”
Surprised by his sudden interest in her opinion, she was delighted that she now held his ear. Though her plan didn’t call for it, she could easily spin his interest in the treaty, into interest regarding her. “Beloved, we art discomfited,” she said, as her lip trembled and eyes threatened to fill with tears.
When he saw that she was threatening to turn on the waterworks, the Slave King dismissively rolled his eyes at her. “Then if you’re concerned, wife, speak,” he bluntly said, disappointed that she had no valuable insights available to offer him.
“Thy aloofness, dear heart,” she said, looking at him pleadingly. “It mocks and makes a fool of us.”
He offered her an incredulous look, unsure if she actually expected him to take what she’d just said seriously. “What?” he asked, confused by her accusation.
“We refuse to be made a further mockery by our peers!” she snapped, angrily laying her ears against her head. “When they hear thou hast spurned us, their scornful laughter wilt shame us and thee.”
“Wife, I have neither the time nor the inclination, to indulge in idle gossip from the wagging tongues of fools,” he said, running his metal thumb and fingers thoughtfully across his chin. “I suggest you learn to ignore their prattle.”
“Nay, husband, thou swore to be ours before all,” she implored, removing even more of her divinity from him.
The Slave King trembled, as he struggled to keep himself from falling off his throne. “Wife…” he said, panting heavily and unsure of her motives for acting like this, when she’d promised not less than a few hours prior, to strengthen him until he was well enough to freely stand on his own.
“Husband,” she pointedly said, restoring a small portion of her divinity back inside him. “Assure us of thy devotion to us, so that the others might not have cause to mock us.”
“How do you expect me to do that, wife?” he said, still struggling to sit upright.
“We require a kiss from thee, beloved,” she whispered, blowing gently into his ear.
“Wife, how can you expect…” the Slave King said, before being interrupted by Arch Duke, Fifi le Yipyap. Happy for the intrusion, he looked at him gratefully. “What is it, arch duke?”
“Slave King,” the arch duke said, with a respectful bow. “Queen Ambrosia has arrived. Shall I admit her?”
Finally, he thought, pleased to have something to keep his mind away from his wife’s childish antics. She has some nerve, trying to blackmail me.
But as for the changeling queen, how should he proceed. He had several avenues open to him. He could allow her to speak first, providing her with enough rope to hang herself with. Perhaps he could simply confront her with her crimes, and demand she explain herself. Or maybe, he should simply skip directly to her punishment. He’d had more than ample cause to do so. After all, she’d been violating the terms of the treaty between them for centuries. Her latest actions might simply be the result of his soft touch with her. His lack of action against her former trespasses, must’ve emboldened her to act on her formerly restrained ambitions.
Looking warily at Princess Luna, he thought that this might be the perfect distraction, to keep her mind occupied by something other than himself. “Bring the queen to me,” he commanded, looking at his wife and gauging her reaction.
Once the arch duke had left their side to escort the Changeling Queen to his throne room, he was rewarded with a surge of magic from his wife. “Wife, how do you suggest I proceed with the changeling?” he asked, giving her a thoughtful look.
Delighted that he trusted her enough to seek her advice regarding the matter, she bolstered the amount of magic she was offering him. “Allow the queen to speak first,” she advised, remembering her prior dealings with the former goddess.
He smiled, pleased that she’d suggested the same course that he’d contemplated pursuing. “Hmm, a wise stratagem,” he said, nodding appreciatively at her, as he lightly stroked his beard. “Wife, I think I shall follow your suggestion.”
Pleased that her husband had accepted her advice, she rewarded him with a bit more of her magic. But craving more from him, she batted her eyes seductively at him, and drew her muzzle close to him. “Beloved, dost thou not think we deserveth a boon from thee, for our sage council?” she asked, hinting at what she thought she was due. But, not quite satisfied with the praise he’d given her, she pumped him full of her divinity, ensuring he’d know exactly what sorts of favors she expected from him.
For the third time today, the Slave King felt himself nearly lost to his drives and desires. Normally, he’d have shrugged off such blatant attempts at manipulating him, but with his body as weak as it was, he was absorbing his wife’s magic like a thirsty sponge. He felt his bones ache and flesh burn, as he lusted after her. Ironically, had he felt like this towards her prior to their wedding, he might have gladly yielded to her demands. But after what had happened between them during their wedding night, he’d sooner jump into the Pit to join the unmentionable one, before willingly indulging his wife’s libido.
Knowing that if he gave into her demands now, he’d not know a moment’s peace from her foolishness, he drove back the great hunger that was besieging him. “Boon or not, wife,” he said, seeing the longing and want reflected in her turquoise eyes, as her flowing mane beckoned him to draw close to her inviting lips. “Petitions must be filed with Harmony before I will address them.”
Hurt that he’d managed to withstand her advances, and had spurned her yet again, she pursed her lips while giving him a flinty look. “Very well, husband,” she said, determined to get her way if it was the last thing she did. “We shall take that under advisement.”
Liar! she seethed, furious at the voice for having deceived her once more, and herself for ever listening to its terrible advice.
What seems to be the trouble, friend? The voice nonchalantly asked, fully cognizant of the reason for her fury.
Scound! Thou promised us the means to getting what we desired, she cried, feeling her frustration stinging her heart and burning her eyes. Feeling sorry for herself, she blinked away her tears, as she lightly sniffed. But instead of loving us, our husband rejected us once more. He was even unwilling to even offer us the small crumb we asked for.
So the little princess fell down, scraped her knee, and is ready to give up, the voice condescendingly said, taunting her bruised ego and hidden tears. Do you want me to kiss your booboo and make it all better?
Nay, thou wicked creature! she shouted at it, as her heart grew heavy and rage ran hot. We want thee to leave us forever and never return.
But then who else would be your friend? the voice pointed out, showing her the bleak reality of her empty and unloved nights.
We ill need a friend such as thee, Princess Luna said, refusing to be taken in by anymore of its vile lies.
Well tell you what, little princess, I’ll help you get exactly what you deserve, the voice promised, its saccharine voice dripping with honeyed words and offering false hope.
Wicked trickster, we hast heard thee utter such before, she accused, unwilling to believe anything it said any further. Our husband has yet to grace our lips with the sign of his tender devotion.
All that and more will be yours, my friend, the voice said, offering her images of her and the Slave King happily living together.
When she saw the images of what the voice promised could be hers in her mind, she felt her heart race and soul quicken. For so long, happiness had been denied her, and here it was, just within reach. She simply needed to reach out with her hooves and grasp it. If she did, all she ever desired would be hers.
We… she murmured, struggling against herself, knowing she couldn’t trust the voice, and yet desperately hoping that what it said was true.
Allow me to guide your actions, Luna, the voice said, tempting her. And you will finally know happiness once more. If he spurns you again, I will trouble you no more.
Thou sweareth it? she demanded, determined to either taste her husband’s breath on her lips, or be rid of her tormentor once and for all.
I so swear it, the voice said, signing their pact with a word of power.
When she felt the voice utter the word of power, Princess Luna knew it had no choice but to make good on its word. Very well, we accept thy aid, she said, hoping that the voice would be able to break down her husband’s continual resistance to her advances.
Then we have a contract, Princess Luna the Beautiful, the voice said, worming its way deeper into her psyche.
Almost as soon as it started, it was over. As far as she could tell, she didn’t feel any different. Princess Luna looked disapprovingly at her husband, and frowned. How dare he ignore her, as if she was some bothersome lovesick foal with a crush. She was second in power on the Pantheon and his wife, if he knew what was good for him, he would learn to respect her.
Deciding that his education would begin now, she doubled the amount of divinity she was granting him. He would soon learn respect, but before she could turn the screws to begin his reeducation, the arch duke returned to the Slave King’s side.
“Slave King, Queen Ambrosia waits in the reception room,” he whispered into the Slave King’s ear.
“Excellent,” the Slave King replied, glancing towards a slowly opening door. “Let’s make her sweat for a bit.”
“Very well, your highness,” the arch duke said, looking towards Luna and giving her a curious look. She wore a tranquil expression, as she stared intently at the Slave King. “My king, is there something going on between the both of you, which I should be made aware of?”
“No, arch duke,” the Slave King replied, glancing towards her once, before turning his attention back to his servant. “My wife is simply keeping herself entertained.”
“Alright, Slave King, my queen,” he said, bowing to them both. He studied Princess Luna carefully, there was something about her that he couldn’t quite place his paw on. “How long did you wish to keep Queen Ambrosia waiting?”
“I believe it’s been long enough,” the Slave King said, looking at the slightly ajar door once more, behind which was the changeling queen, who he saw was stoically waiting to be called upon. With a small wave of his hand, he opened the door with his earthen magic. “Queen Ambrosia, I bid you welcome to my domain. Enter.”
The moment he spoke, the eyes of everyone in the room locked onto the changeling queen. Though she tried hiding it, he could sense her apprehension and fear nipping at her flanks like a ravenous timber wolf. However, he did have to credit her for how she was carrying herself. She approached his throne boldly and with purpose, looking him directly in the eye, without giving anyone else a moment’s notice.
When she reached the foot of his throne, she bowed low to the earth in supplication to him. Though he normally didn’t care whether anyone bothered with frivolous niceties, he found her obeisance telling. By showing him the proper respect, she hoped to quell his wrath against her and her people. He wondered what sort of excuses she planned on offering to him, in order to extricate herself from any guilt regarding this matter. Or if she might drop all pretense of being innocent in this before begging him for mercy.
Once a few minutes had passed, he felt it was time to confront her for the crimes committed by one of her changelings against him. “Rise, Queen Ambrosia,” he rumbled, gesturing to her with his hands to stand, allowing his raspy voice to echo inside his throne room. Whether the queen was intimidated or not, neither her face nor her eyes betrayed her emotions to him.
Examining her, he found her as beautiful as he last remembered her. Although her looks weren’t a match for his wife Luna’s or Lady Suzaku’s loveliness, or even the fierce beauty of Lady Zephyr, Queen Ambrosia possessed an exotic allure that few others could match. From her velveteen covered chitin and her glimmering gossamer wings, to her golden slited eyes and fangs, everything about her reflected her predatory nature. In fact, had she still been on the Pantheon, he was certain that she would’ve tried seducing him for influence like the others had. But that was neither here nor there.
He was determined to discover the motives behind the changeling who so flagrantly violated the treaty, brazenly tried stealing from him, and openly tried murdering those under his protection. He saw her eyes slightly twitch for a moment, and knew he’d successfully gotten under her skin. All this posturing had unnerved her after all! Pleased that he had the changeling queen right where he wanted her, he decided to let her speak for herself.
Noticing how flustered the silence was making Queen Ambrosia, he’d decided that he’d done well following his wife’s council. He could see her frustration and fear slowly revealing itself to him, when she flashed him a look of fury for being treated so poorly by him. Normally he never took happiness at another’s suffering, but for the first time since the foul curse had afflicted him, he felt in control over his own destiny. Feeling his wife’s hoof against him, he placed his hand over it.
“If you aren’t going to speak, Slave King,” he heard the queen say, drawing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I shall take my leave of your domain.”
Nodding to the arch duke to let him know that he was excused, he lightly thrummed the metal fingers of his right hand against his throne’s armrest. “Do you know why I summoned you here?” he asked, his heavy voice devoid of any and all emotion.
“Yes, Slave King,” the queen admitted, glancing towards Princess Luna, before redirecting her attention towards him once more. Offering him a neutral smile which revealed to him her sharp fangs, she continued. “The hive and my people, are innocent in this matter. Any changelings involved in the assault against you are operating without my knowledge or consent.”
“Is that so?” he placidly replied, refusing to show her either his anger or new found weakness. “Then, Queen Ambrosia, we have much to discuss regarding this matter.”
Offering her a cold predatory smile of his own, he was pleased when he saw fear and doubt clouding her sight. For unless one could keep those two emotions in check, they would prove fatal while negotiating. And though she’d made a noble effort in keeping them at bay thus far, now that they had finally managed in wounding her heart, soon enough she would reveal the truth to him.
“Very well, Slave King,” she sighed, preparing her mind and will to do battle with his.
*****
“My liege,” the young chevaleresse said, bowing low before her liege lord and the master of her order.
She floated above the cold pavement, aided by the same innate magic bubble that all seaponies possessed. Towering over her was Lord Triton the Lawgiver, the just and much beloved deity of the seapony race. Patiently, the much smaller mare waited for her god to address her, for she had much to tell him. As his second, she was serving as her lord’s personal assistant while they remained the Slave King’s guests here in the Domain of Earth.
Although she was still a youth and her great beauty had not yet been marred by battle scars, she was a seasoned warrioress who had known the taste of battle, and of victory. Her lithe and graceful form, belied the skilled bellatrix she was, from all but the most discerning eyes. In fact, if not for the armor of her order she wore and the trident strapped to her back, most might’ve assumed she was nothing more than a maiden beneath the flowing lavender locks of her mane.
Lord Triton looked on her and smiled. “Rise, daughter,” he said, gesturing to her with his fins. “So I hear you’ve had a bit of an adventure.”
To say that she had had a bit of an adventure, was a slight understatement. If truth be told, she’d taken the first strokes with her fins on the currents towards what might be considered a grand quest. She’d finally discovered the identity of the hateful changeling that had nearly slain the greatest knight of her order, cost her lord prestige and the loss of a valuable trading hub, and had even besmirched her personal honor.
And that wasn’t all, the fiend had attempted spiriting away the Elements of Harmony, and they had nearly gotten away with it too. If not for the timely intervention of her and her Earth Domain companions, the sneak thief might have even successfully pinned the blame for the theft on Lord Triton. Causing who knows how much mischief, ensuring that the treaty between her lord and the Slave King ended before it had even begun.
“Lord Triton,” she said, exhaling as she prepared to deliver the terrible news. “I’ve discovered the identity of the one responsible for Sir Hurricane’s loss at Bone’s Landing.”
Lord Triton stroked his magnificent mustache thoughtfully for a moment, nodding in understanding. “You’ve done well, Dame Squall,” he said, placing his fins together. Noticing how filthy her clothes and armor were, the smudges on her pale green skin, and the new trident she carried, he looked at her approvingly. "I take it you had a bit of a scrap with them?”
“Indeed, Lawgiver,” she said, wiping her brow with her fin. “My companions and I, detected a changeling’s presence lurking inside the Slave King’s palace, so we decided to investigate it.”
“So what did you discover?” he asked, curious about her adventure.
“We tracked the changeling down into the Slave King’s treasury,” she explained, recounting what she remembered. “There, we discovered the changeling, wearing the guise of the Slave King’s servant, Second the Doomhound. When we pressed it for answers, the fiend dropped its disguise and attacked us.”
“I see,” he mused, wondering if he had altogether new enemy to worry about. “So how went the battle, did you emerge victorious?”
Disappointed by her failure to apprehend the changeling in order to bring it to justice, she shook her head. “He was a fierce opponent, both skilled and powerful in changeling magic,” she said, describing her part in the battle. “He transformed into the same ghast that attacked Aria the Red the day prior, and then overwhelmed me. If not for my companions, I would’ve surely been slain by the beast.”
“Daughter, then my heart is glad that the changeling failed,” Lord Triton said, placing his fin on her shoulder. “But what was the thief after in the Slave King’s treasury?”
“The Elements of Harmony,” Dame Squall said, wishing she had been stronger so she could’ve vanquished them.
“Are you telling me that the Slave King possessed the Elements of Harmony, and now somepony managed to steal them away from him?” he asked, slightly agitated at the revelation.
“Thankfully no,” Dame Squall replied, remembering the torrent of water that rushed towards them, saving both them and the elements from the changeling thief and assassin. “Jormungandr, stepped in and saved us, but the elements were lost to us in the rushing water.”
“Then they could be anywhere,” the Lawgiver said, relieved that the elements hadn’t fallen into enemy fins, but disappointed that were undoubtedly by now, spread to the far reaches of creation.
“Lord Triton, forgive me for failing to stop him,” she said, lowering her head in shame for her failure.
“Dame Squall, come,” he commanded, turning towards the door. “We shall confront the Slave King about this. That he had the Elements of Harmony, and chose to hide them from the rest of the Pantheon is inexcusable.”
“Lawgiver,” she said, looking into his sea green eyes. “I don’t believe the Slave King even knew he ever possessed them. Apparently, they were once his tears.”
“His tears?” he asked, wondering how such a heartless soul could ever possess any of the qualities represented by the Elements of Harmony. “I need to discuss this with the Slave King. The sudden reappearance of Jormungandr after such a long absence, alone bears discussion.”
“Alright, Lord Triton,” she agreed, following after him as he headed towards the exit.
Traveling beside her liege in her official capacity felt somewhat exciting. With a few other scant exceptions, she’d yet performed any of her duties as her lord’s second yet. But in this instance, she’d be directly confronting the Slave King on her master’s behalf. Although she’d had prior dealings with the wayfarer turned god before, her purpose in speaking with him previously had always been due to chance rather than her duty.
The Slave King, now there was somepony that she had mixed feelings about. She’d always believed him to be some terrible monster whose endless ambition was only held in check by Lord Triton’s grace and her order’s military might. But now she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about him. Sure, there was his sacking and the consequent conquest of Bone’s Landing. But instead of enslaving all the city’s inhabitants and pressing them into bondage, he’d agreed to leave them unmolested as long as his claim over the city was recognized.
Then there were his servants. Even though she’d only known of the Slave King’s shadow knights by reputation alone, the opinion that she’d held of ‘The Order of the Shadow’ was that they were comprised of nothing more than degenerate brutes, whose only purpose in battle, was reveling in the bloodshed and carnage they so joyously caused. But then she’d met the head of their order, and the words he’d offered her still resonated within her breast. Our master’s quarrels needn’t be ours… At the time she hadn’t realized quite what he’d meant, but after having spent some time together with the Slave King’s servants, namely Melody the Yellow, Gunhilde, and Dawson, she’d found each of them to be worthy companions in their own way, Dawson especially.
She’d first met him on the field of honor, they were both semifinalists in the tournament in honor of their masters. She’d been so confident then, and so sure of her prowess in battle, that she’d haughtily approached her mudslinger opponent unworried about the outcome. For what possible defeat would she ever fear from her unworthy opponent? After all, she was a chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, and none were more skilled. While he was nothing more than a lowly slave of the Slave King, at least that’s what she’d convinced herself to believe.
But then their fight had gone somewhat differently then she’d anticipated. First blood had gone to her, which only bolstered her confidence in her chances at defeating her beastfolk opponent. But then in the second round, he’d gotten in a lucky strike with his spear, winning the round, and knocking off her helmet in the process. Silently she’d placed her helmet back on her head, and readied herself to win the final round of combat.
As soon as the flugelhorns sounded, she threw caution to the wind and launched a flurry of attacks, hoping to unbalance him and allow her to win the round. But instead of victory, he proceeded using a series of unorthodox moves, which resulted in stunning and disarming her, granting him the victory instead. When she’d realized that she’d lost to him, she became furious. She hadn’t expected her opponent to trap her weapon and strike her. By disarming her so easily, he’d completely shamed and embarrassed her in front of her sisters, order, and even her deity.
Then Dawson did something that she’d have never had expected one of his kind to ever do. He attempted handing her, her weapon. Thinking about how ungraciously she’d reacted towards him than, made her cheeks flush crimson. Embarrassed and angry at losing the match, she’d called him mudslinger filth and a thug, and had accused him of acting without honor. When they met next, it was as spectators rather than as warriors.
She’d seen him sitting beside Melody as they ate a meal together, and had decided to confront him for defeating her through trickery. Shouting a challenge at him, she was inches from his shemagh covered face. Staring at each other, each waited to see who would blink first. Looking into his warm brown eyes, she felt compelled to draw closer to him. Being so close to him, she’d smelt both the food he’d been eating and sweetness of the ale that he’d been drinking on his breath, and found her mouth watering in response. Whether it was prompted in anticipation of sating her own hunger or by something else she wasn’t sure.
But then the unthinkable happened. Unable to stop herself, she ripped off his shemagh, grabbed his face, and kissed him deeply. Even now, remembering that kiss still made her fins and tail tingle. Of course at the time, she’d been completely mortified at what had happened between them, and had slapped him hard for taking liberties with her virtue by stealing a kiss from her. At least that’s how she’d tried rationalizing away what had happened between them.
And then lastly, there was the night of the Slave King’s five hundredth inauguration. She’d been thoroughly enjoying herself, the food had been good, and the wine even better. Well to be frank, the wine had been more than better, it was simply divine. She’d tried at first practicing moderation in her drinking, as was the rule that all the knights of the Lawgiver followed, the chaste chevaleresse especially. But then Lord Triton began drinking beyond that which was wise.
It was her responsibility as his second, to try stopping her liege, but he’d dismissed her concerns out of fin and told her to enjoy herself. At first she tried only sipping the wine. But one cup became two, two eventually became seven, and before she knew it, she and Dawson were drunkenly dancing together. Even in her inebriated state, it was obvious to her that they had both had too much to drink. He even more so then she.
While dancing together, she’d found the dexterous talons pressed against her back exciting. As the night progressed, she’d became emboldened by the wine and had started pressing herself ever closer to him. She’d found herself enjoying his warmth, and feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around her. It was then that she decided to offer him another kiss, and though he possessed feathers instead of scales, and talons instead of fins, she needed to feel him once more.
Kissing him deeply, she found herself melting into his arms, and pressed herself hard against him. How long the kiss lasted, she couldn’t remember. But what she did know, was that she’d wanted to be as close to him as possible. She’d spied an unoccupied room, and giggling like filly, she’d gently guided him towards it with her fin. Once they were inside and alone, she clumsily kissed him while offering him a seductive look of enflamed passion and wanton desire.
Taking the hint, he tried unsuccessfully removing his clothes as he fumbled with the clasps and buttons. Deciding to help him disrobe, she laughed as their limbs became entangled trying to remove his tunic. What she remembered of that dark intimate room, left her heart all aflutter. But before they could go much further in doing something they both might’ve regretted in the morning, Melody walked in, interrupting before they were able to go any further.
Fortunately for them, the harper had been more moderate in her drinking then herself, and had been keeping an eye on Dawson. With a kind smile, she’d politely asked her if having drunken sex in a closet was something that a chaste chevaleresse of the Lawgiver would do. Turning crimson with both embarrassment and unfulfilled desire, she’d shook her head no.
Her eyes stung, as her tears freely fell. She’d felt so ashamed of herself, for nearly loosing herself with Dawson in drunken debauchery. Rutting like wild beasts in heat was something that mudslingers did, not a refined knight of the Lawgiver. As she wept in sorrow, Melody drew her into a comforting hug, telling her that her secret was safe with her. Breaking from her warm embrace, she helped her get Dawson, who by now had passed out on the floor, to bed.
Even though the following evening had been difficult, she’d somehow managed to make it through. When she awoke the next morning with a clearer head and loins which no longer burned with desire, she was grateful that Melody had interceded when she had. She didn’t know how she could’ve faced her liege after breaking her vow of chastity. But more importantly, she didn’t know how she could look Dawson in the eye after robbing him of his virtue. Although he seemed eager enough at the time, his inexperience at handling his liquor was telling, and she’d hate to have had a part in something he’d later regret.
When he’d approached her later that morning, inviting her to share breakfast together with him and Melody, he seemed happy enough to spend time in her company. But then her sisters decided to have a bit of fun with her slack jawed suitor, when he found difficulty in finding the words to ask her to join him at their table. She’d been fine with it at first, after all everypony liked a good laugh every now and again. But then when they insulted his worth, she found herself wanting to slap the sneer off of Dame Calm Breeze’s haughty muzzle.
Although they probably held the same erroneous beliefs she’d once held about those from the South. She knew that at least in Dawson’s case, he was a stallion of quality, and somepony worth knowing. His actions later that day confirmed what she already knew. Holding back the ghast unaided and alone, save for her faith in the Lawgiver to guide and protect her, she fought the fiend as well as she could. But in the end, it had proved too much for her, and had eventually overwhelmed her with its attacks. Then as she lay unconscious and dying, while the ghast was siphoning away the last of her life energy, he came back.
She’d thought to buy them enough time to escape with Aria to safety, because her attacks were the only thing seemingly able to phase or even slow it down. But at great risk to himself, he returned to defend her, and had rushed headlong into the fray. Somehow, he’d managed wounding the specter, successfully driving it back into the shadows from whence it came. The first thing she could remember was waking up in his warm strong arms, feeling completely at peace with herself and the world.
“Daughter?” she heard Lord Triton ask, stopping in front of a mural depicting Lord Darkpaw and Lady Zephyr in battle. “I sense somepony is consuming your thoughts.”
Realizing her thoughts of Dawson had brought a rosy blush to her cheeks, her face grew even pinker as she looked away from her liege, embarrassed that he’d discovered her thinking unchaste thoughts about the griffin-half.
“Forgive me, master,” Dame Squall said, sorry that she’d indulged in such thoughts, when there were more pressing matters to attend to. “I shall strive to keep my mind on the present.”
“Dame Squall,” he said, offering her an understanding smile. Looking at the mural, he sighed when he remembered the passion those two had once shared. “It’s a marvel and a wonder when we discover the one destined to be our other half. Though it’s tempting to give into the passion they stir in us, like fire it can burn you if you’re not careful. Instead, I recommend channeling that passion to drive you to do greater things.”
“I’ll remember that, Lawgiver,” she said, vowing to never allow the swelling in her breast to cause her to forget her sworn duty.
He moved to continue towards the Slave King’s throne room, before stopping once more. Looking at her with his aquamarine eyes, he gave her a thoughtful look. “Does he know how lucky he is?” he asked her.
“Does who know what?” she replied, wondering what he meant.
“The one who managed to win your heart,” Lord Triton said, looking at the ancient mural once more.
“I…” Dame Squall stammered, unsure of whether or not she truly did love him.
“You should tell him, daughter,” he said, placing a fin gently on her shoulder. “Before somepony else wins over his heart.”
“I will, Lord Triton,” she said, hoping that her courage wouldn’t fail her when she saw him next.
Satisfied with her answer, the Lawgiver resumed his journey to see the Slave King. “But, Dame Squall,” he said, looking into her emerald eyes. “Make sure you tell him another thing as well.”
“Of course, Lawgiver,” she said, wondering what else he wanted her to say.
“Make sure he knows that if ever breaks your heart, the fury of the order will break his bones,” he said, with a slight grin.
Knowing she was so loved by her deity brought a smile to her muzzle. “Oh, I shall, Lord Triton,” she agreed, floating to his side and escorting him the remainder of the way in silence.
*****
The room felt stifling to her. As greatly as she desired to prowl through the shadows as she usually did around this time, there was the small matter of her condition. She had precious little strength left, she’d given it all to her lord and master. Now as a result, she was as weak as a newborn whelp. Even now, though she felt being unable to leave the room was tiresome, she didn’t once regret aiding him when he needed her help.
He was her entire purpose for living, for being. He was her alpha and omega. He was her creator, and she considered him her beginning and end. There was no other way to say it, he was everything to her, and without him she was incomplete. Which made her current condition all the more frustrating. He was all alone now, without her by his side protecting him from those who sought him harm.
Some foul curse had befallen him, leaving him at the mercy of others. But here in the South, there was no mercy, only treachery. And treachery had befallen him. Both gods and fate had schemed against him, while traitors from within and enemies without had conspired together to ensure his downfall.
Breathing in deeply, she narrowed her eyes when she caught the traitor’s scent. Oh, how she longed to visit her fury upon him, to punish him for his disloyalty. But she lacked the strength to even break an egg between her paws, let alone harm a doomhound, and the traitor was considered the greatest of their number. So all she could do for now was bide her time, and wait for the right opportunity to enact vengeance on her master’s behalf.
She felt her tail moving of its own accord, as she steadily breathed in and out. Looking at the shadows dancing on the walls, being cast from the dimly lit magical lamps lining the walls made her sigh. The shadows, they were her domain. She supposed that none beyond her master, and Luna her new mistress, had greater mastery over them. She longed to leap into its comforting silken darkness, and use it to rejoin her master’s side. But weak as she was, she doubted she could even travel the breadth of the room, let alone traverse the length of the palace.
Though this was his room, she was glad that she’d managed to banish the traitor from her presence. She knew that deep down, he’d only obeyed in order to humor her, rather than out of fear from her threatened reprisal. Was this what she’d been reduced to? She who was the dark terror of the night. The one whose name most refused to even whisper, lest they catch the attention of her fierce red eyes, sharp teeth, and cruel claws.
Looking at the wall beside her, she saw the numerous gashes she’d left behind in frustration over her condition. She’d lost count of how many times she’d raked her claws against the wall. In the end she’d given up. The stone was too strong for her, and the only damage she’d managed to inflict against it was to its plaster. She was certainly glad that no one could see her now, for if they did she’d never manage to live the humiliation down.
She thought back to her first kill. It had been a fool of a diamond dog, who’d had the misfortune of running into her place of birth. In a rage over the loss of a few insignificant mortals, her master had released a cry of anguish so powerful, it had willed her into being. Although she didn’t realize it at the time, he’d unwittingly used his divinity and spoken the word of power in his unbridled fury.
At first, all she knew was darkness. But as his unconscious will and divinity shaped and formed her, his first command to her formed in her mind. Kill them all! In the beginning, she’d found the command an odd one. Kill, what’s that? And who am I to kill? she'd wondered, as she pondered after the command's meaning. But when she caught the scent of her first victim, and had tasted their fear, terror, and dread. She felt something, an insatiable hunger that needed to be fed.
Chasing after him through the gem mine’s dark winding tunnels, she began playing with him. Traveling through the shadows unseen, she was right beside him the entire way. Then, before he managed to escape, she’d leapt out and tackled him from a side passage. Bowled over by her much stronger and larger bulk, the diamond dog was dead before he even hit the ground. Driven completely by the hunger and instinct, she’d snapped his neck with her powerful jaws, before tearing him into pieces with her sharp claws.
Looking down at the bloody remains, she felt nothing. Which confused her greatly, because just moments before the diamond dog had been the entire focus of her hunger. But now when she beheld her victim's lifeless form, it stirred nothing within her. Even though she’d just killed like the great hunger demanded, it was still unsatisfied. But fortunately for her, she wouldn’t have to wait long before she could try sating it. Three others had heard the commotion, and had come to investigate. Two large miners, and a tiny pup chasing after a small red ball.
Confused by the hunger that still drove her, and the remains that had left her unfulfilled, she retreated to the safety that the shadows offered her. It was like returning to the comfort of a warm bed. For within the darkness she possessed perfect clarity. Without much thought, she quickly dispatched the two miners, before turning her attention to the tiny pup standing before her.
Held in its tiny paws, was a red ball. Looking at it, she noticed it was nearly the same color as the blood and gore she’d managed to coat herself and the walls in. Staring down at the tiny thing, she saw that the pup made no move to run, only staring at her in a stupor. She wondered, was she to kill the pup as well? But moments later when the hunger called, she had her answer.
In one swift bite she ended the pup, leaving its corpse behind with the eviscerated remains of the others. Before dying, it hadn’t even let out as much as a whimper. It simply dropped the ball to the ground, as the toy rolled away from her through the bloody mess. Leaving the mine behind her, she entered the outskirts of the city and smiled when she saw hundreds of other potential prey milling about, completely unaware of the danger she offered them.
Each held a unique scent, and each elicited the same ravenous hunger within her. Spying a nearby house, she silently crept up towards it, and spied on the occupants inside. They were a group of diamond dogs sitting down to enjoy a meal together. She saw several young pups, a few older ones, a hound and a bitch respectively, and even an elderly one well past his prime.
Seeing this new scene, made her experience something new. Something she’d never known before. This feeling burned within her, like an inferno. The happiness they held together, it burned within her like a white hot knife. Eventually, she come to know to know this feeling as hate. Hatred for those who’d hurt him. Hatred for those whose happiness had come at his expense. Hatred for them all!
Wishing to sate the endless hunger once more, she leapt out of her hiding spot, broke through a window, and landed on their table. With a powerful swipe of her paw she decapitated the bitch, making her blood spray all over the table and the others. When they saw her blood stained coat and gore covered maw, the pups screamed in terror as the male charged her. He fought her with such ferocity, he nearly managed to drive her away. But then the hunger returned, and with it, the hate. Leaping on top of him, she broke his back with her paw, before turning her attention to the older hound that stood between her and the frightened weeping pups.
The old hound bared his teeth and swiped his claws at her, but she was stronger and faster. With a deft bite, she snapped his neck, and dropped his lifeless corpse to the ground. The broken hound behind her started screaming something unintelligible at her as she killed each pup in turn. She didn’t quite understand what he was saying, but when all the pups lay dead at her paws, and she turned to face him, she saw his large blue eyes full of tears and fury. They glared accusingly at her, evoking the same feeling she’d felt earlier. The hate.
He hated her, as much as she hated him. Seeing the hatred he held for her filled her with pleasure, the reasons for which she found incomprehensible. She didn’t know why she was being compelled to kill, but after giving it some thought decided it didn’t matter. Killing the others had been a profoundly pleasurable experience, and she could scarcely wait to experience it again. Hearing screams and a loud commotion coming from outside, she knew that she’d be shortly experiencing it once more. The delicious feelings she felt when she looked down at the paralyzed hound, made her almost sorry she had to kill him, but the hunger would not be denied. With a quick snap of her jaws, she killed the crippled hound, and prepared to resume the slaughter.
After that, things began to blur together in an orgy of death, entrails, and blood. The faces of each of her victims began melting together like hot wax. She no longer cared who they were. Young and old, richly dressed or in plain rags, her hunger drove her to slay them all. In the end, even ponies and griffins became fair game, as she reveled in the pleasure of the kill that their deaths offered her.
With tooth and claw, she cut a deep swath of destruction towards the city’s center. Why? She had no idea, only that she was compelled to go there. It wasn’t long before she began facing heavily armed diamond dogs, griffins, and ponies. As she slew them, she found the ponies and griffins were decidedly less enthusiastic about driving her back, then the armored hounds leading them from behind. The discovery that some of them wore chains didn’t matter to her in the slightest. Her hunger demanded they all die.
Once the lopsided battle was finished, she stood triumphantly over their corpses. In the chaos, a lucky few had managed to escape her. But she wasn’t worried, she could easily hunt them down later. Licking away the gore from her blood slicked maw, she resumed her journey towards the large building she’d been inexplicably drawn to. Before she could take two steps forward, a sound caught her attention. Looking behind her, she saw some movement from the shadows in a nearby alleyway. Deciding to confront whoever it was that had so foolishly chosen to follow her, she boldly approached them fully intent on slaying them.
When she approached the place where light met darkness, she felt her heart skip a beat and her pulse quicken. Within the shadows laid something far more terrible than she, and it made her know fear. This feeling, she didn’t like it! The shadows, a place that she’d only ever known as a comfort, now filled her with dread. Her dander rose, as she dug her claws into the pavement and prepared to do battle with whatever it was that lay inside. Even though she didn’t wish to confront them, the hunger and her pride compelled her to. For there could only be one monster here, and she was determined to ensure that monster was her.
Before she could leap into the shadow and tear whatever it was to pieces, a pair of green flames appeared in the darkness above her. Looking into them, she felt them searching her for the smallest imperfection, judging her worthiness. It was like staring into a dark void, which threatened to devour her whole if it found her wanting in the least. Although she found the green flames terrifying she also found them rather exhilarating, and if she could she would’ve been content basking in their power for eternity.
Then she heard a raspy voice say to her, “Come…”
Hearing the voice, filled her heart with joy and wonderment. The green fire desired her! Forgetting her prior fear and terror, she walked into the shadow and saw him for the first time. He looked nothing like the others she’d slain so far. Wearing bloodied and filthy rags, the speaker of the voice had a metal face, and with the exception of his greying beard, possessed little hair that she could see.
He looked down at her for a moment, before reaching out with his hand to touch her. When she felt his fingers scratching her behind the ears, her spirit soared. This was the essence of joy, basking in the afterglow of the slaughter, while enjoying the delicious feeling of her ears getting scratched. Sitting down on her haunches, she sat with her tongue hanging out and eyes closed in pure bliss, as he kept attending to her ears. How long they stayed like that together she didn’t know, but then he stopped for some unknown reason.
When she no longer felt the pleasure of his fingers scratching her ears, she whined with displeasure. Looking up at him disapprovingly, she tried willing him with her eyes to return to the task for which he was solely made. When he didn’t do as she commanded, she placed her head expectantly beneath his hand, and waited for him to return to his duty. But instead of scratching her ears once more, he narrowed his burning eyes as he offered her a steely look.
“Well, aren’t you a rather demanding creature,” he remarked, looking down at her.
Why did you stop? she crossly said, feeling put out that he was refusing to employ his fingers for their only intended purpose.
“I have more pressing business to attend to,” he said, looking at the large building in the distance.
More pressing then scratching my ears? she incredulously asked, scarcely believing anything could ever take precedence over the delicious feeling of having her ears scratched by his wondrous fingers.
“What is your name?” he asked her, refusing to look away from the building.
When confronted with the question, ‘What is your name?’ she didn’t know how to respond. She just was, she’d never considered the need for a name before. All she’d ever known was the great hunger that had driven her forth in search of new prey, the pleasure of the kill, the burning hatred for her enemies, and now the joy of feeling him scratch her behind the ears. When confronted with the possibility she’d never possess one, she suddenly felt hollow and empty, as she became acquainted with both sorrow and regret.
Laying her ears back, she looked up at him plaintively. I have no name, she said, despairing that she’d never possess a name of her own.
He turned to look at her, and she beheld his hardened eyes soften somewhat. Placing his finger on her head, his eyes flared with power. “You shall be called Nightmare,” he said, his raspy voice taking on a solemn tone. “For cold shadows and burning rage spawned you, and from the darkness you sprang forth.”
The moment the words passed his lips, she felt his power enter her, binding him to her, and her to him. In that moment, she knew he was all she’d ever need. His will was hers, his desires were hers, and his enemies were hers. Her only desire was to be forever at his side, feeding the great hunger that was consuming them both. Though she didn’t know it, it was then that she finally discovered love and adoration.
I am, Nightmare, she said, happy to finally have a name and purpose to call her own. No longer would she only be ruled by the hunger that urged her forward. She was determined to use it to serve him in any way that he asked. She had a name now, but what of him? It wouldn’t do for him to be without a name or a purpose to call his own. Worried for the one that consumed all her thoughts, she looked up at him with concern.
Seeing her apprehension, he scratched her behind the ears once more. “I am the Lord of Earth,” he said, patting her head once. “All above the Earth and everything beneath its surface are mine to command, to do with what I will.”
When she heard his words, she was delighted. He had a purpose, just like her. But she was still concerned, he had no name. That would not do. A being as magnificent as he, deserved only the greatest and most auspicious of names.
“I was known by my former masters, as the slave King,” he said, the fury in his voice becoming palpable. “So you may call me that, the Slave King.”
When she heard the bitterness and anger in his voice directed towards his former masters, she finally understood why she was. Her true purpose, it was vengeance against those who had harmed him. No longer did she wonder why, for she now knew the reason.
Master, she said, stepping in front of him. Let us attend to them.
“Yes, Nightmare,” the Slave King said with a dark chuckle. “We shall…”
Remembering the fateful day of her creation, filled her with a perfect sense of clarity and renewal of purpose. Even though he’d chosen to betray her to be with that pony whore, she’d always return to him. She felt the ever present need to be by his side ache deep in her bones, and knew she had to go to him. Struggling to her feet, she trembled as she stood up. Walking towards the shadows that were dancing against the wall, when it enveloped her she welcomed the darkness’s cool familiar embrace.
Following the ley lines of shadow, she traveled through the palace towards the throne room, where she sensed he was. Although her strength was sapped, and traveling through the darkness was taxing the scant few reserves she had left, he needed her and that was all the reason she required. She imagined how glad he’d be when he saw her returning to his side, and could almost feel his dexterous fingers moving behind her ears once again. Soon, they would slay his enemies and feed the ever present hunger together.
It had been far too long since they had last shed blood together. In fact, he hardly went out into the city to slay the undead with her anymore. Perhaps they could slaughter some changeling trespassers, or lay waste to one of the pony squatter settlements together. Yes, that’s exactly what he needed, killing some ponies. It would show the pony whore and her sister, they weren’t to be trifled with.
When she imagined the panicked cries of terror of the squatters as they raided the chosen settlement, she smiled. It would be a great joy to see him once more as he once was. But deep in her heart, she knew he’d always answer her no, and all thanks to that pony whore. She’d made her master weak, and ruined him! If she possessed tears, she’d have cried for what had become of her once great master.
“Hello, Nightmare,” she heard a voice call out from the shadows. “Fancy meeting you here."
Tiroc! she snarled, in no mood to deal with the fallen god’s delusions.
“You know, very few these days dare speak my name unbidden,” he said, his voice echoing through the choking darkness of the ley line.
That’s because they’re all cowards and weaklings, she replied, flashing her razor sharp teeth at him. Only a fool afraid of their own shadow, would be afraid of a fallen god like you.
“Ah, there’s the lovely wit I’ve always appreciated,” Tiroc said, chuckling at her impudence. “Come serve me, Nightmare, a lady of your talents is wasted on ilk like the Slave King.”
Tiroc, why would I ever serve a broken husk like you? Nightmare snorted, scoffing at the very idea of betraying her master to him. The Slave King is a far greater and cleverer deity then you could ever hope to be.
“Don’t you mean a child, ever content to make mud pies in the sand box the others allowed him to play in,” the unmentionable one countered.
Silence, blowhard, she said, baring her fangs once more. Before I come down to Tartarus to teach you some proper respect.
“You could be so much more,” he said, offering her a glimpse of the future. “Imagine ruling over your own domain, maybe then the Slave King might do more than simply scratch you behind the ears. He might even be willing to scratch that other itch, eh?”
When she heard his offer and saw the accompanying vision, she paused. What he offered did seem tempting, but she knew all his promises were worthless, and only a fool would ever accept any bargain he offered.
As always, Tiroc, she sniffed, kicking up some darkness behind her. I think I’ll pass.
“Think it over, Nightmare,” he said, offering her a vision of her master and his new wife together. “It’s just a shame he’s willing to love someone he hardly knows, rather than the one who’s willingly served him for half a millennium.”
He doesn’t love her! she protested, enraged that Tiroc thought to provoke her ire.
“Of course he doesn’t, Nightmare,” he said, making the images disappear as his laughter faded into the darkness. “Of course he doesn’t.”
He doesn’t love her… she whimpered, trying to convince herself he was staying true.
Deciding that she’d had enough of the unmentionable one’s foolishness, she resumed her journey. Exiting out of the ley line, she appeared in one of the side passages that led into the throne room. Excited to be by her master’s side once more, she willed herself forward, determined to return to her rightful place beside his throne. Rounding a corner, the throne room came into view. What she saw there nearly broke her heart. Sitting in her spot, was the pony whore, Luna, being kissed by her master the Slave King, in front of his entire court for all to see.
No, she whimpered, struggling to move her legs so she could flee away from the hurtful scene. No…
Stats
Page generated in 0.03 seconds
Total duration
1,023 users online
1,906,104 hits today, 2,280,440 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Merry christmas to you as well.
I was dreading the day you run out of pre-written content, but it appears that it has arrived.
I hope Nightmare stays true, and helps him return to his former glory. Luna's machinations, I hope they backfire, if he ever comes to love her, I hope it is willingly and does not compromise his position like it has now. Even though he wasn't mentioned, I do hope Sombra is dealt with soon, even though he'll eventually cause the Crystal Empire to vanish. I won't keep going on, but I love this series and I hope more comes soon!
First of all, Merry Christmas
Hope you had a good one. Secondly i can't express how happy i am to see Dame Squall's view of Dawson and find out what almost happened on that drunken night...Don't know if i should thank or slap Melody. Thirdly i'm wondering about The whole Luna, Nightmare and Slave king love(less) triangle.i am also very interested to see what Tiroc plans to do with this opportunity to sow unrest among the Pantheon. As always a great chapter and thank you.
Merry Christmas!
All sorts of shades of love being presented in this chapter and none of them are satisfied. How easily they are played with and reality is altered to skew their perspective. Given how malicious Luna's inner voice is, I see the worst happening (
rape).wow. i never expected to actually feel a bit bad about Nightmare.
3684667 Thank you for your well wishes gentlereader, hopefully you enjoyed spending Christmas together with your family.
3684987 Thank you for your comments, gentlereader, regarding my prewritten content, yes I'm completely out, however I've been writing the next chapter. My goal is to write 500k words by Nov 2014. I hope to have the Book of Water complete by then, so I can start on the Book of Fire for NANO 2014.
Nightmare is an interesting lady, out of all the Slave King's servants, she's motivated to serve the Slave King not out of friendship like Scourge, devotion like Nidhogg, or fear like many of his other servants. She loves her master in her own way, and apparently considers him her mate. However, she wishes him to return his formerly rage filled and violent ways. Things that the Slave King has put behind him, in order to focus on returning Little Bleu to the world of the living. There's little Nightmare could offer to entice him to return to the blood soaked paths he once tread upon in his youth.
Luna's only machinations regarding the Slave King is receiving the love and gratitude she feels that he owes her as her husband. Seeing as his marriage was done out of necessity rather then any desire to wed the mistress of the night, Luna may end up disappointed. As pragmatic as the Slave King is, if it serves his greater purpose he might eventually swallow his pride and simply give her what she wants. However unless something changes within him, the most she could ever expect to receive are icy words and hollow actions.
Until the Slave King has managed to get a handle on his domestic situation, Sombra will most likely do as he wishes to the crystal ponies under his stewardship. But all bets are off once reports and rumors of his behavior has reached the Slave King's ears.
Until next time! Until then, I look forward to reading your thoughts and critiques in future chapters.
3685039 Thank you for your well wishes, gentlereader, I spent the day with my sisters, and alas the yuletide merriment kept my from releasing the chapter on time.
I'm glad you enjoyed the scene between Dawson and Dame Squall, I was sort of worried that I was going to far with what had happened between them. But fortunately Melody was looking out for both her brother and his inebriated seapony lover. Had they actually spent the night together in drunken bliss, I can only imagine how conflicted Dame Squall might have felt waking up in his arms in a closet. As Lord Triton's second and a chevaleresse, she expected to subscribe to a higher standard. And though it might be considered unfair that the knights celebrate getting their spurs at the Lady of the Sea bordello back in Marelantis, while the chevaleresse are expected to be pure and unsullied, that's chivalry for you. But I think that things ended up for the best. Unable to remember what exactly happened between them, Dawson's interest in Dame Squall is apparently still strong. While she seems to grow more infatuated with the griffin-half more each passing day.
What specifically are you curious about the triangle between Luna, Nightmare, and the Slave King? Although he's bound to Luna by marriage, he doesn't particularly care for her. And even though he's affectionate towards Nightmare, apparently he doesn't see her as any more than his loyal pet. They each love him for their own reasons, both have forceful personalities, neither likes being told no, and are accustomed to always getting their way. Additionally they both seem to intensely dislike each other, we can only imagine the domestic strife they'll cause for the Slave King in the future.
As for the unmentionable one, as always his plots and schemes have but one goal, to escape his prison and bring ruin to those who imprisoned him. But as for the plan he's currently hatching, you'll just have to wait and see!
3685137 Thank you for your well wishes, gentlereader, yes it's rather interesting how that played out. I hadn't originally intended to write things this way. My main concern had been progressing the plot, and instead we got the juxtaposition of three very different kinds of love. The embittered and scorned spouse, whose desperately clings to the hope that her husband might one day love her, the wistful and enamored longings of a young mare unsure if she's found true love, and a forlorn and pained soul, forever pining after the love that is seemingly beyond her reach.
As for Luna, her desperation to reach her husband has finally reached its end. By accepting the voice's offer, we can only speculate if things will end well for both her and her husband. Or if in the end, she only knows regret for her choice made in desperation. The voice knows what she wants, and how best to help her achieve her aims. If she must abandon harmony's path to do so, then so be it. At least then she'll be happy knowing the price she paid was worth it, right?
Luna's the kind of mare that would accept nothing less then the Slave King willingly submitting himself to her. Though in his weakened state it might be quite easy to ravish him unto exhaustion, she desires more then physical intimacy. She wants emotional intimacy with somepony that understands her pain, and somepony that she might share her burden with. The long nights she guards are lonely ones, and until she has filled the void within her, she'll never truly be satisfied.
3688348 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, what exactly made you feel for Nightmare?
3688637
So Luna wishes someone to help her with her pain, carry the burden that she has. Is she so completely dense to not see that he too has is own scars? She came into this relationship seeking to relieve herself, not form a partnership is seems. After all, if we are to look at the story progression it hasn't even been 24 hours before Luna decided the crazy voice in her head was right.
She wanted instant gratification, and he is not giving it. She just gift wrapped the whole idea in a coat pink love to hide truth. Though it just shows how flawed this system is that the pantheon has set up. As a result, we get Nightmare Moon. We all know how well that turned out.
Speaking of which, could Nightmare Moon defeat the demon from the pit?
3688561 Oh I would, if my daughter wasn't abducted by French sex traffickers. Now I have to use all my experience as an ex-CIA agent to retrieve her from those who have "taken" her.
Hell, I might have to torture a guy by jamming two nails in his legs and electrocuting him with them in a Parisian basement.
See you later!
3688639 just the situation she was created into. as well as the whole un-returned love thing.
I hope The Slave King gets his strength back soon. I can already foresee what will happen if he doesn't. Don't want him to be helpless while Luna starts going bonkers.
3693692 Thank you for your comments, gentlereader, are you afraid that she'll pull him down with her, into her spiraling descent of madness? A good portion of this book will be how the Slave King deals with his weakness, while everyone else around him has the upper hand. What do you forsee happening to the Slave King?
3993608 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, yes sometimes I have issues with comma placement. I'll read it out loud and place the commas where I pause. Maybe I'm a bit like William Shatner with how I'm injected my pauses into the reading.
Is Nightmare Moon born of Luna and Nightmare doing the Fusion Dance?