The Wolves of Equestria

by FenrisianBrony

Wolfhammer

I bit my lip to supress a grunt of pain as a wolf priest checked over my wound for what felt like the millionth time that day alone. All around me were other ponies who were injured, some lying still in a state of unconsciousness on the cold stone slabs, while others moaned in pain, dulled only by the potent alcohol that served as an anaesthetic back in the Aesir.

After I had fallen unconscious in the ice fields, I had been taken back to the Aesir with the rest of the wounded, leaving those able to fight to mop up what was left of the main Minotaur army and to investigate the nearby villages to see if there were any survivors. That had been a week ago, and if the rumours circling around the healing halls were true, the other companies should be returning pretty soon, if they hadn’t already. There was sure to be a feast in their honour, and to honour the dead, and I wanted to make sure that I was released from the Wolf Priests care before that happened.

“Any discomfort?” the Priest asked finally, looking up at me and removing the instrument that had been probing the leather covering on my wound.

“The cauterised parts are still a bit raw, and it will take me time to get used to it, but no,” I shook my head, fixing him with an imploring gaze. “Can I go?”

“I would rather you stay here for at least another day, but I know you Blood Hoof types,” the old pony sighed. “Just take it easy when you go out there. The leather is stronger than your hide, but it’s still only held there by burnt flesh. Give it a few days and it will be secure though.”

“Thanks,” I nodded, sliding off the stone slab and wincing as my hooves touched the floor. “Are the other companies back?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t imagine so. There would be a sign that so many had returned to us,” the Wolf Priest shrugged. “I would suggest you use this time to make your amends to the Iron Priests. I doubt your armour was in good shape when they received it again.”

“Oh dear,” I sighed softly, before turning to the Priest and nodding. “Thank you sir, I am in your debt.”

“You’re not in anypony’s debt, I did my job, you did yours. Simple,” the pony shrugged, before turning and walking away from me, heading back towards the other ponies in the hall, checking on them occasionally as he passed them by.

Sighing to myself, and starting to prepare myself for the Iron Priests shouting when I visited them, I made my way out of the Halls of Healing, heading down one of the many cavernous corridors that stretched around the Aesir, and even into the mountain behind. As always though, when I tried to focus heavily on anything, my mind was always dragged back to one inevitable outcome.

Gale.

What I had said when I thought I was going to die was true, I had always loved Gale, but I never thought I’d actually be able to follow through with it and tell her how I felt. Now that I had, I didn’t quite know how to deal with it. Everything felt like one long chain of impossibilities stretching back to the beginning of the battle. Maybe I had died up there in the snow, and this was just the afterlife that was waiting for me. Maybe it had been even earlier than that, before I had even been found by the Arctic Wolves. Everything did seem to change suddenly in my life at that moment, who was to say that I hadn’t died then?

Even this minor existential crisis wasn’t enough to take my mind off of Gale however, and I continued to walk through the corridors of the Aesir, only half paying attention to where I was walking, before finally walking headlong into the door of the forge, rebounding off it as I fell to the floor, rubbing my muzzle and checking that I hadn’t drawn blood.

“Just my bloody luck,” I muttered as I brought my hoof away, a few flecks of crimson showing me that I was bleeding a bit, but I would be damned if I was going back to the Halls of Healing this quickly, so ignored it, and got back to my hooves, grunting as I pushed the heavy doors to the forge open.

“Whoever you are, ya better shut the doors pretty quick,” a huge Earth Pony stallion boomed, stomping over and glaring down at me. “Well? Who are ya and what do ya want in the forge?”

“Blood Hoof Hoarfrost,” I replied, bowing my head slightly. “I was told to report here for…”

“Yes yes, yer one of those sods who got his armour destroyed on its first outing,” the stallion sighed. “Looks like ya were luckier than some though, I tell ya, cleaning pony bits off of the armour ain’t exactly an easy job, nor is it pleasant. You though, ya don’t even have the decency ta die for my troubles. It took me three days ta gets yer armour fixed up again.”

“I’m…sorry?” I offered slowly, not really sure how to respond to the accusations being thrown at me.

“Sure yer are, and I’m the Great Wolf,” the stallion scoffed, before turning and heading off into the forge. “Ya Blood Hoof’s are all the same, too much bloodlust and no experience ta tell ya what you’re doing is a load of bollocks and will give some other poor sod shit loads of work to do. I’ll never get done fixin’ yer damn stuff until yer six hooves under the snow.”

I chuckled slightly nervously as I followed the ranting Iron Priest, trotting deeper into the forges, before finally coming to a small workstation, a set of armour laid out across it surface. I instantly recognised some of the runes that had been inscribed on it to indicate it was mine, as well as the many small dents and scratches I had got from the fight, which the Priest clearly hadn’t bothered to buff back out. The newest addition however was the extra plate now welded to the front of my armour, sealing the hole that had been created by the Minotaur.

“It will hold up as well as the new armours,” the stallion shrugged as he grabbed a piece of the armour and chucked it to me, allowing me to catch and inspect it. “But don’t go pickin’ fights with Minotaur’s again pup, you won’t be so lucky next time.”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” I grumbled, beginning to slip the hoof plates over my legs. “You try talking them down.”

“Aye, I guess yer have a point,” the stallion shrugged. “Now, take yer armour and get out of the forge before I decide to use yer head as a hammer.”

I nodded, grabbing the last of my armour and slinging it on my back, figuring that there was no point putting on the full suit while in the Aesir, before heading back towards the door. Halfway there however, a thought suddenly struck me, and I turned back to the Stallion.

“Umm…excuse me,” I tapped him on the back as I spoke.

“For the love of the Empress! What is it now?!” he roared, turning back towards me.

“Yeah, sorry, I, ugh, umm,” I stammered, before finding my voice and balls again and standing up tall. “Where is my axe and crossbow? I remember having them on the field but…”

“Crossbow’s in yer quarters already,” the Stallion shrugged.

“And my axe?”

“Do I have to do everything myself?” he groaned exasperatedly. “Yer axe was blunt as sin, the haft was ruined and the blade was lucky it survived at all. Basically it’s useless and was melted down again.”

“So…do I get another one, or will you forge me one, or what?”

“I’m not forging you a bloody axe pup,” the stallion huffed. “Go see one of the thralls, maybe they can forge yer one, or maybe they can even teach yer a bit and yer can do it yerself. Just get out of my face and leave me alone, I have stuff that needs doing and no time in which to do the bloody jobs.”

“Psst,” a pony whispered from beside me, and I turned to see a small earth pony beckoning from the other side of the forge. Nodding to him, I hurried over, slipping away from the much larger and angrier earth pony.

“Thanks for that,” I slipped my armour off my back and looked at the pony before me, sizing him up and seeing that he was roughly my height, even though I was still considered a runt.

“Steel Mill is a bit of a nut job, but he’s doesn’t mean much of what he says,” the pony shrugged. “Plus he’s damn good in the forge when he wants to be. I’m Hammer Strike by the way.”

“Hoarfrost,” I tapped my hoof against his. “So, I’m taking it you heard our conversation?”

“I think the Second Company heard it, and they’re still down south,” Strike chuckled. “Yeah, I heard it, need a new weapon then?”

“It would appear so,” I nodded. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to use just my crossbow from now on.”

“Ha, I remember having to use an axe,” Strike laughed. “Then ol’ Steel Mill decided that he needed an apprentice, and here I am.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be out there?” I asked, gesturing in the general direction of the door. “You know, actually doing the fighting?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “In here I can help keep the Legion active so that ponies like you can actually do your job. No Iron Priests, no Arctic Wolves simple as.”

“We’re more than our weapons and armour, but I see your point,” I conceded. “But back to business, about a new weapon.”

“Yeah, I can forge you one, unless you want to try your hoof at it. You have no idea how many of the Legion want to try making their own weapons when their first one breaks. Most are crap, but we get some good ones.”

“That’s actually allowed?” I asked in disbelief. “Wouldn’t that make us inefficient if not all our weapons were the same?”

“Eh, it’s a grey area as to if we’re allowed or not,” Strike shrugged. “The Great Wolf doesn’t seem to mind, the Wolf Lords certainly don’t, and the Empress, well, as long as we keep the general idea of an axe, she hasn’t reprimanded us yet.”

“I suppose I can give it a try then,” I nodded, before letting out a soft sigh.

“Something the matter?”

“Nothing, just thinking of a friend,” I replied.

“Mare?” Strike asked with a slight smirk. “And is this just a friendship, or is it a friendship, if you know what I mean.”

“You’re really frustratingly annoying, you know that?” I asked with a small smirk of my own.

“Of course I do,” Strike chuckled. “And judging from your reaction, I’d say it’s the latter.”

“Yeah, it is,” I nodded.

“So why so glum about it?”

“Because when I told her I thought it would be the last thing I ever did,” I sighed. “I thought I was going to die, then the Wolf Priest told me I’d be fine. Still not sure how to handle this new stage of events, that’s even if she wants to handle them at all.”

“Sounds like you got shafted,” Strike smirked. “Although, I’m sure you’d much rather she was the one getting shafted, hey Blood Hoof?”

“I hate you,” I deadpanned.

“No you don’t, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Strike laughed, punching me lightly on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get down to business shall we?”

“Well, it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen in my short time here,” Strike said slowly, looking over my work so far.

“Why, what’s wrong with it?” I asked.

So far I’d been in the forge for a couple of hours, chatting with Hammer Strike as he helped me to forge the basic metal haft and head of my soon to be weapon. Granted it wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t think it was too bad. Hammer Strike on the other hoof did not seem to share my optimism.

“Well for starters the haft looks like it’s about to bend over, it’s not straight enough for an axe, and the head of it is far too thick to actually grind down to a fine edge unless you’re planning on spending a day on that alone.”

“Well yeah I guess,” I muttered, thinking of something to say to counter this. “But urg, I wasn’t making an axe, I was trying for…a hammer! Yeah, that’s it, a nice meaty hammer. That’s why the heads so thick.”

“A hammer?” Strike deadpanned. “Hoarfrost, you’re full of shit, but because you said it, you can damn well stick with it. A hammer it is.”

I let out a soft groan as Strike took the rough weapon off me and slid it back into the furnace, heating the metal of the head once more, before turning to one of the other anvils and grabbing a lump of white hot metal. He paused for a second, as if contemplating the best way to go about his next moves, before slamming a hammer down onto it and slowly bending it to the right shape.

“Well Hoarfrost, I think it’s just about done,” Strike smiled, looking at the hammer in front of us both.

“I’ll defer to your knowledge of weapons,” I smiled, before reaching out for the hammer with my mind and lifting it up.

The first thing I noticed about the weapon was its weight, easily being heavier than my old axe, the weapon owing its new weight to the massive slab-sided head of the hammer. From the large flat head, the metal flowed back and got thinner, before being engulfed by the maw of a wolf, cast in a deep golden bronze. We both had Steel Mill to thank for helping to make that particular feature of the weapon.

Other than that, the weapon was fairly standard, the metal head being riveted to a solid looking wooden haft in an attempt to keep weight down as much as possible. All in all, it was a fine weapon, and had been a good way to spend a couple of days. The Wolf Priests had told me not to strain myself too much after all, so training was out, and the rest of the company wasn’t back yet, so I couldn’t go and spend my time in the feasting halls with them either.

“Not bad you two,” Steel Mill nodded, looking down at the pair of us. “Looks like I chose right getting you as an apprentice Strike.”

“You honour me Steel Mill,” Strike bowed reverently. “I only used what you taught me on the weapon, and Hoarfrost’s slightly unorthodox approach did the rest.”

“Well, I’m not sure what the Wolf Lord of yer company will say about having a hammer instead of an axe, but it isn’t unheard of,” Steel Mill shrugged. “I’ve heard some of his Wolf Guard use massive swords instead of normal axes.”

“What is it with our legion and really large weapons?” Strike mused. “When we met the Wonderbolts, they all used little tiny swords, and they called us the weird ones.”

“Aye, the rest of the legions use tiny little toothpicks,” Steel Mill chuckled. “We’re the only ones trusted to carry the big ones, something about needing to be prepared in case our enemies ever get decent armour together. I don’t see that happening any time soon, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, and besides, carrying big weapons is more fun.”

“I guess fun is as good a reason as any,” I grinned, slipping the heavy weapon onto my back and making sure the sheath for it was tight enough to keep it secure.

“That it is,” Steel Mill nodded. “Now, are ya finally going to get out of the forge, or are ya planning on sticking around to make yerself something else? Bloody Blood Hoof’s.”

“No, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” I turned to Strike and nodded to him, bumping hooves, before looking back up at Steel Mill. “Thank you for allowing me access to the forges Iron Priest.”

“It’s fine Blood Hoof, just don’t come back again, I don’t want to have to repair yer armour a second time.”

“I’ll try not to sir,” I smiled, before turning and making my way out of the forge, my chest aching slightly as I adjusted to the extra weight on my back.

I quickly made my way down the corridors, passing by numerous other Arctic Wolves from the other companies that were currently stationed at the Aesir, receiving nods of greeting as I passed, and even the odd raucous bear hug from a few other Blood Hoof’s I had met in the Halls of Healing, before finally reaching my quarters and slipping inside.

Placing the hammer down by the end of my bed, I stepped back and looked over my armour, double checking the paint work wasn’t too badly damaged, before taking the leg guards off and slipping them on to my own hooves. I had heard that the Pegasi scouts had already spotted the companies returning from the north, and I was going to make sure I was greeted as an equal, as a warrior, not as a cripple.

It took me a lot longer to get the armour on than usual, and even longer to tighten the individual straps, than it did when I had a helping hoof, and I was finally fully armoured with my weapons strapped to my side.

“You ready Bard…olf?” I asked, before mentally kicking myself as I remembered he hadn’t come back to the Aesir with me. I just hoped that either Summit or Gale had looked after him properly while I was gone.

“I hope you’re ok boy,” I sighed softly, before heading out of the door, allowing myself a quick glance at Gale’s bed, before heading to the main gates of the Aesir.

“Halt! Who goes there?” one of the Grey Hunters on the parapet of the Aesir’s outer wall called as I walked up behind him, the rest of his squad whirling around and pointing their crossbows at me.

“Hoarfrost, Blood Hoof of Ninth Company,” I replied, knowing that this was more a formality than an actual requirement.

“Pass friend,” the older looking Grey Hunter sighed, before turning to look out into the snow. “Your company’s one of the ones returning?”

“Sure is,” I nodded. “I got back early thanks to…”

“An injury, I figured,” the pony finished for me. “So, who is your Wolf Lord Blood Hoof?”

“Lord Umbrage,” I replied after a moment’s pause. I hadn’t really given my father much thought in the past few days, and as such, I still couldn’t figure out exactly what I was supposed to feel for him.

On one hoof, he was my father, and I wanted to try and get past the lingering feelings of betrayal that had been slowly building up for years of my life, while on the other hoof, I wanted nothing to do with the pony who had effectively run out on me. I knew he had his reasons, but it was still hard to get past such a big block in my life.

“The Ninth then?” the Grey Hunter nodded, before glancing over the walls again. “Well, looks like you won’t have to wait any longer. Look like they’re coming now, unless I’m very much mistaken, I believe that is Wolf Lord Umbrage leading the Vanguard.”

I followed his gaze, and quickly saw the ponies entering the canyon approach to the Aesir, filing into the only way to approach the citadel from the Northern provinces. I knew that this wasn’t only a strategic placement to force large armies into a small space, but was also symbolic of the position of the Arctic Wolves. We were the wardens of the north of Equestria, and anypony who wanted to approach the south would have to pass under our gaze.

I didn’t know how the Grey Hunter knew that it was Umbrage at this distance, as I could barely make out which shapes were Earth Ponies and which one were walking Pegasi. That being said, I wasn’t planning on questioning the venerable warrior, and so I waited in silence as the army moved closer, finally confirming with my own eyes that it was indeed the Ninth Company leading the way.

“I’d go down to the gates pup, present yourself to your company at the first opportunity,” the Grey Hunter grunted, not taking his eyes off the ponies.

Nodding, I turned and hurried back inside the citadel, heading towards one of the many staircases and quickly reaching the main hall, watching the doors expectantly. I didn’t have to wait long for the doors to swing open, and the first Wolf Guard from the Ninth Company filed inside, paving the way for Lord Umbrage to stride in.

My father cast me a single glance, before nodding as he reassured himself that I was still alive and kicking, before sweeping past deeper into the Aesir, allowing the lower ranks to enter the citadel, finally culminating in the ranks of the Blood Hoofs and…

“Bardolf!” I cried as the wolf lunged at me, taking me by surprise and knocking me from my hooves.

“Woof woof!” the wolf barked happily, licking my face as he panted heavily, allowing me to take in his larger size. Although it had only been a few scant days since I had seen him on the battlefield, he had already grown quite a bit, as well as putting on quite a bit of weight.

“He’s a big boy now isn’t he?” Summit chuckled, trotting over towards me and smiling down at me.

“Yeah, unexpectedly so,” I nodded with a smile, pushing Bardolf off me and getting back to my hooves. “Stay boy.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Summit smirked, before stepping aside. “I believe that Gale wants to have a talk with you about things said on the battlefield.”

“I’ll get you back for that,” I quipped, before trotting forward towards Gale, stopping just before her and sighing.

As I looked at her, I suddenly got the feeling that the coming conversation would be incredibly awkward, and I wasn’t overly looking forward to having it anymore.

Comments

[Knight of Lycaeus]

"always loved gale", names should be capitialized.

[Nightmare Wolf]

Nice chapter. Really liked Steel Mill, he seemed to be the type of guy that would beat you for sustaining an injury in battle, and really not caring about more work fixing your armour, as long as you're okay.

[FenrisianBrony]

4481751
Thanks for catching that. Fixed now.

[FleetlordAvatar]

Better an awkward coversation, than a lifetime of regret.