Rhythm and Rhyme

by MyHobby

The Heart Laid Bare

Stonewall looked out from the prow of the scout ship and folded her wings across her back. The flyder flagship had flown all the way to the ocean. The winds picked up this close to the sea, threatening to knock the scout ship off course. “Bring us down.”

The ship descended to the beach, alongside the other ships in pursuit of Ahuizotl. She disembarked, her armored boots chuffing in the sand. The hum of the flyder was swallowed by the crashing of the waves.

“Centurion!” A soldier trotted forth, a sheet of paper held in his telekinesis. “Message from Canterlot. Shining Armor is going to be unable to help us.”

“Cuss.” Stonewall kicked a seashell into the drink. The cold of night encroached on her skin, even through her armor. “How’s the navy? How many ships do we have ready to sail?”

“Five at the moment, ma’am. Others are gearing up.” The unicorn folded the page over to highlight a line. “The High Princess only gave us permission to pursue to the edge of Felaccian waters.”

“Wha—?” Stonewall snatched the paper. “What about King Ursagryph? Aren’t the Blitzwings helping us?”

The soldier shook his head. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“We’ll do what we’re told.” Stonewall looked out to the dark sea, her brow furrowed. “Radio ahead and get the Buttercup’s Folly ready to set sail. I get the feeling we’re gonna need the Royal Flagship desperately.”

Stonewall sighed and hopped back onboard the airship. They set out for Manehattan and the harbor. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

***

Caballeron tugged at a section of the wall, sliding it to the side. Transparent amber material shielded them from the world outside, while revealing the darkness and endless ocean that surrounded them. He stared into the emptiness, while Sweetie Belle huddled beside Button.

She adjusted her frameless glasses, looking away from the doctor. He’d been stewing for a good few moments. She almost thought to say something, thought better of it, but said it anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Caballeron snapped his head around, looking at her with utter disbelief evident on his face. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “No parent should have to lose their child.”

Caballeron’s face softened, ever so slightly. He turned back to the outdoors, his eyelids low. “What’s happened has already happened, and it couldn’t have happened any other way.”

Sweetie Belle glanced at Button, who kept his gaze on the doctor. She offered Caballeron a shrug. “It’s still not right.”

“It rains,” Caballeron said, “on the just and the unjust.”

He shook his head lightly. Wind from the sea battered at the side of the Hesperus Mactans, causing the three of them to sway. Caballeron tapped his hoof against the window, and sang quietly.

“I see the vision every time I close my eyes
I feel it in my waking breath
I hear the strangled pain within his mother’s cries
The night of Happy’s death

“I pulled the child from the river by myself
This bundle of damp fur and skin
Three days before he was the paragon of health
Yet never to have been”

“The sun has set
The skies bleed red
And we are both alone
When all is said
We’re both half-dead
We changed the world and lost what made it home”

Caballeron leaned heavily against the wall, attempting to hide his face. Sweetie could see it, though. Plain as day.

“I saw her anger,” he said. “I saw her pain. But I was powerless to stop what happened next.”

“Our world was broken
The body no longer my boy

“I left the village with my best friend at my side
My wife had lost her very soul
She fought to bring him back, to see his death defied
To make her child whole

“The sun has set
The skies bleed red
And we are both alone
When all is said
We’re both half-dead
I couldn’t bear to tell her
There was no hope”

He turned to Button, his face stony, his anguish at the memory silence for the moment.

“There’s one idea that must be made known
We changed the world and lost what made it home”

Button sat up, propping himself against the bulkhead. He took a turn staring at the bleak eternity of the ocean. “You didn’t change the world. He fell into the river. It was a freak accident.”

“We brought him into the world.” Caballeron winced and held his bandage. “After he was gone, we parted ways. That was the change we wrought. I became a criminal, fighting for money to satisfy whatever earthly desires I still possessed. But it wasn’t enough. She’s spent her entire life pursuing the cure for death, and everything else has suffered for it. It’ll never be enough.”

“But you didn’t act. You didn’t do anything.” Button Mash turned to Caballeron, his hoof raised. “You ran from your troubles. You left.”

Caballeron socked Button in the jaw. “You dare?” He grasped Button by the shoulders and hauled him to his hocks. He pressed Button against the window, his nostrils flaring. “You think you can come to me and tell me right from wrong, boy?”

“I’ve been fighting since the day you attacked!” Button gripped Caballeron’s collar and tried—and failed—to push the older stallion back. “I’ve been doing whatever I could to help Sweetie and Scoots! I’ve fought Ahuizotl’s frickin’ army! You didn’t act! You just kept letting things happen to you!”

“That’s enough!” Sweetie’s voice rang loud and clear, surprising even herself. Caballeron let go of Button instantly, even going so far as to scramble back. He stared at her with wide eyes, his breath shallow. She glared at him, all bluster. “You leave each other alone. Do you hear me?”

Caballeron’s hoof went over his heart. “You… truly are a convincing mare, you know that?”

Button rubbed his sore shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you—?” Caballeron growled. “No, of course you didn’t feel that.”

Sweetie felt her blood run cold. “Feel what?”

“The song.” Caballeron turned his eyes down. “The reason Ahuizotl wants you. The mind control. The natural siren’s song.”

“I-it’s not mind control.” Sweetie Belle felt the cold turn into a boiling, rushing torrent, starting in her cheeks and running all the way to the tips of her ears. She looked away from Button’s expression. He stared at her wide-eyed, his jaw gaping, his ears flat to the sides. “It’s not. I could never.”

Button drew closer to her, his head low enough to reach her eye-level. “Th-then what is it?”

“It unites hearts,” Caballeron said. “It sways hearts. To whatever whim she so desires. Isn’t that right, Miss Belle? Your special talent. The very mark on your side.”

Button Mash’s forehead wrinkled. “That’s how Ahuizotl gets all the hearts to work together?”

“I-I don’t change how p-people think, I swear.” Sweetie stood up and paced, her tail shivering behind her. “I just… I can just help people unite. That’s all it is—”

Caballeron cracked a sinister grin. “Is it, though?”

“Oh, shut your yap!” Button waved a hoof at Sweetie, narrowing his eyes at Caballeron. “If you’re trying to insinuate Sweetie would do something horrible, you can stop now. You’ll never convince me. If you’re just trying to stir up trouble, then save your breath. If you’re just being pessimistic for the sake of it…” Button’s mouth scrunched to the side as he searched for a word. “Then screw you, I guess.”

Sweetie walked to one end of the room, her back to the two of them. Was that all it was? She wasn’t sure. She seemed to sway Caballeron awfully easily. Even Ahuizotl had given her pause, though little else. Could she even control it if she wanted to? All she wanted was to unite hearts with song. To help them experience life on a higher level.

But this power… seemed to be something else.

“If it’s a natural siren’s song,” Button said, choosing his words carefully, “then why didn’t it work on me?”

Sweetie looked over her shoulder. It was a fine question. She hadn’t watched Button much while she sang—no good getting distracted—but what little she saw, he seemed at least aware of his surroundings. While everybody else was taken up in the song, his eyes were keenly on…

On her.

She felt the blush intensify, stronger than ever. She met his eyes for as long as she dared. “I don’t know.”

“Ah, you’re a smart girl,” Caballeron said. “You’ll figure it out.”

Button gave him a frown. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that it’s late, I’ve almost died, and I’m tired.” Caballeron curled up on a cot on the opposite end of the room. He situated himself so that he wouldn’t lie on the bandage while he slept. “If you’re both smart, you’ll get some sleep, too. Build up your strength. Who knows what nonsense awaits us tomorrow?”

He was snoring in moments, leaving them alone for all intents and purposes.

Button Mash gripped his head in his forehooves. “Ooh gosh. He’s not wrong.”

“W-well come here.” Sweetie took one of his elbows and gently tugged him towards the cot. “Get some rest.”

Button started to comply, but paused. “There’s only two cots. You should have it.”

“Like heck I should.” Sweetie tugged more insistently. “I’m not the one who got thrown against a wall.”

“Yeah, but—” Button sighed, pointing a hoof at the small metal cot. “You know. You’ve been through stuff, too.”

“I can use the floor just fine.” Sweetie Belle placed a hoof on his chest, careful to avoid the scar, and pushed him back. His hind legs bumped the side of the awful excuse for a bed. “It’s not like it’s that much better than the floor in the first place. It’s still hard metal.”

His rump hit the cot. He sat with his forelegs dangling, his head low. “Yeah, but it’s, like, raised. Ponies don’t walk on it.”

“Button Mash, I have not had a bath in four days.” Sweetie Belle fluffed her tail, but it just sort of wobbled in midair, rather than bounce with a curly spring. “I don’t think the floor is gonna hurt much.”

Button opened his mouth, but said nothing. He lay down on his side, heaving a deep breath. “You win. Doesn’t feel quite right, though.”

“Why?” Sweetie lay down and curled up a short distance from Button. “Because I’m a girl?”

“Not just that.” Button’s lips tilted to the side. “You deserve better.”

Sweetie snorted. “Civility trumps chivalry, and the bed is a lot easier to get up from than the floor.”

Button’s eyes left hers, but he brought them back an instant later. “Not just chivalry. You’re an awesome person, and you’ve been through a lot. I wanted to make things a little easier.”

After a moment’s silence, he continued with a frown. “But I don’t think I can actually get up anymore.”

Sweetie raised herself up and looked over his bruised body. “Your muscles hurt that bad?”

“Yeah, but—” Button laughed quietly until it turned to a wheezing cough. “—but you should see the other guy.”

Sweetie raised an eyebrow. “The other guy was Ahuizotl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Button coughed again, his smile bright despite. “I hit him so hard he turned ugly.”

Sweetie covered up a laugh too slowly, and the second snort of the night hit. It was answered with a billowing snore from Caballeron, who turned over muttering about stupid kids.

Sweetie found a spot on Button’s side that wasn’t blotched with black and blue. She reached a hoof to it and massaged the sore muscles beneath. Button twitched away, but found it in himself to relax a little. His ears twitched, and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but remained unable to.

She spoke for the both of them. “I’m glad to see you again.”

The corner of his mouth turned upward. “I-I am, too. Plaid to see—glad to see you. Really glad. I’m glad you’re okay.”

His eyes widened. “Hay, uh, we saved Scootaloo. She’s back to normal again. I don’t know if you—”

“She is?” Sweetie covered her mouth, then lunged forward to wrap her forelegs around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“A—ah—uh—” His blathering died down, replaced with slightly-more-understandable stuttering. “Y-yeah. Rumble and I g-got her heart, and Apple Bloom found the body, and she was super-glad to-to see us and-and…” He reached around her to gently, hesitantly complete the hug. “It’s all good.”

Sweetie felt tears burn in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they trickled down her cheeks to dampen his shoulder. “I was so worried. I had no idea if she was okay, or hurt, or g—” She sniffled, suddenly very self-conscious about what she was doing. “It’s all good?”

“Yeah,” Button said, releasing her and allowing her to back away. “It’s very good.”

Sweetie smiled. She wiped her eyes and sat beside the cot. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel. I don’t know what I’d do if…” Cold fear gripped at the edges of her heart, but was soon banished with the warmth from beautiful memories of days gone by. “She’s my oldest friend. We’ve always been together.”

Button Mash bobbed his head, since nodding seemed to hurt too much. “She never stopped fighting for you. Even as a heart, she was blazing bright.”

“That’s Scootaloo.” Sweetie brushed her mane over her shoulder. She lit her horn and closed the window, blocking out the encroaching darkness. “She sets the standard.”

They sat in silence for a while. Sweetie shook her head as relief flooded through her body. With Scootaloo safe, a huge portion of her stress had vanished in an instant. Sure, she was still the captive of an immortal god-otter, but that seemed to pale in comparison to the freedom of her friend. It may have been the only victory they’d seen in the past few days, but what a victory it was! To know that Scootaloo was free to laugh, to fly, to enjoy what life had to offer…

It left her and Button Mash, fighting for their lives.

Reality came back, like a smothering blanket over her soul. The darkness surrounding the flagship was not stopped by the window shutters, because it was not a physical thing. It was an inexorable dread creeping ever onward. Ahuizotl was only meters away, and the very pony who had kidnapped her was sleeping in the very same room as her.

“Hay.” Button Mash’s voice broke through the darkness, waving it aside like smoke. “What’re you gonna do when we finally get freed?”

Sweetie turned to him. He looked at her with those intense eyes, studying her, searching her for something. Perhaps just searching for a way to cheer her up. “What do you mean? Short term or long term?”

“Whatever.” Button Mash shrugged. “Got any long-ranging dreams? Life-goals? Just a food you’re really looking forward to eating again?”

She giggled softly. “Pumping me for information, huh?”

“As subtly as possible.” He threw her a haphazard grin, sincere yet muddled by stress.

“Well, in that case…” Sweetie rested her back against the edge of the cot. She sat midway down the length, so his face was still easily in view. “The first thing I’m gonna do is take a long, hot bath. Maybe a shower, too, for good measure.”

“Same.”

“I’m gonna eat a home-tossed salad, with hard-boiled eggs, tons of cheese, and the worst kind of fatty dressing.” She rested her cheek on her shoulder, looking at him over the top of her glasses. His face was fuzzy, but no less jovial for the nearsightedness. “I’m gonna bury myself in clean linins and hibernate for at least a week.”

“I wouldn’t dare begrudge you a single ounce of that.”

She grinned, turning to her own hooves. She nudged the glasses further up her nose before they could slip off. “Then I think I’ll work on a new song. Or maybe put together a new dress. Maybe both at the same time.” She stared into the middle distance, Rarity’s chaotic Inspiration Room appearing in her thoughts. “I should probably replace the doors first. Maybe with something metal. And a moat.”

An ache arrived to her heart, unbidden by memory or future plans. It took her a moment to pinpoint its source. “I want… to sing again. For real. For a crowd I’m not trying to control, or brainwash, or whatever Ahuizotl is trying to use me for.”

Button’s hoof touched her shoulder. Her first instinct was to turn to face him, but she pushed the urge away. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking, or even see the evidence of it. She just felt the shame of what she’d been doing under the mad god. “I—I’ve only ever wanted to sing to people. Ever since that first audition… I’ve felt it. I’ve united hearts. Not controlled them, not forced anything on them. It’s not just that, either.”

She gazed at the plain metal bulkhead facing her on the opposite side of the room. Its blankness helped her clear her thoughts, even if it was ever-so-little. “When I sing, I feel a connection with the crowd, too. Like we’re all feeling the same thing. Enjoying the same moment. For just that little bit of time, it feels like a hundred other voices are singing with me.”

She let her ears droop and her shoulders hunch. “I just want to feel that again.”

Button’s voice warbled. “You will.”

She pointed an ear in his direction, even as she looked to him out of the corner of her eye. It was his turn for damp cheeks and a tight throat. He looked away when he saw her attention was on him. He dropped his hoof from her shoulder. “I-I promise.”

Sweetie swallowed the lump in her throat. She sighed through her nose, tapping a hoof against the floor. “So… what’s your big dream?”

Button blushed, like hot iron buried in coals. He glanced at the ceiling and, finding nothing of interest there, let his ears droop. “W-well…”

“Puppet shows across Equestria?” Sweetie smiled at him, hoping that he wouldn’t feel as shy if he thought she was joking around. “Getting the high score in Pac-Mule? Designing your own video game?”

“N-nothing so grand.” Button Mash gave her an uneasy grin. “It’s hard to really… Eh.”

That piqued her interest. What would have him falling over himself, unable to speak it? Was it something to do with her? That might explain his discomfort, but—

Maybe she should just let him say it, without trying to psychoanalyze him. That was at least more polite.

“I’ve only ever…” Button scratched his head, but winced when he ran over a bruise. “Ow.”

“You don’t have to tell me if it—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Just hard to get into words.”

He licked dry lips, and something came over him. His face became slightly more sure. His posture straightened, as much as it could while he was lying down. “I want a family.”

Both of Sweetie’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Button framed an imaginary scene in front of him with his forelegs. “Like… I’ve always wanted a family life. A wife. Kids. I wanna be a good dad. And everything I do is to bring me closer to that. Getting jobs, buying a house, ask—uh—all my schooling. I need all that stuff to get what I really want.”

He waved at the cutie mark on his side; a cross-shaped mark with directional triangles at the extremities. “My cutie mark is a puppeteer’s control cross. But it’s also a game-controller directional pad. It’s who I want to be. I wanna be able to give direction to people who need it. I wanna be supportive behind the scenes. I want people to be able to rely on me.”

He lay his head on the bare metal of the cot. “I don’t know how well I’m doing with that.”

Sweetie Belle fidgeted with her tail. She raised one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “You seemed pretty darn reliable today.”

“If you say so—” He laughed in the back of his throat. “—I’ll believe it.”

“I do say so.”

“Okay then.” That tired, weary, blushing, jocular grin wiggled its way across his face again. “There’s one good thing that came out of all this.”

Sweetie pursed her lips. “What’s that?”

“Our second date happened a lot sooner than we thought it would.”

Sweetie chuckled. Then giggled. She covered her mouth to stop the sputtering. “So that’s why you charged in on a flying machine, lasers blazing.” She leaned closer to him, shaking her head. “Button, there are easier ways to ask me out.”

He inched himself around on the cot, jockeying for a more comfortable position but finding none. “You weren’t answering my letters.”

“You must have had the wrong address.” She lay down beside the cot. He craned his neck so that he could still see her. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“I’d do it all over again if I had to.” He blew a faint raspberry. “Maybe this time I wouldn’t get so beat up.”

Sweetie folded her glasses and placed them beside her head. The world lost contrast, the colors all muddying together. Button’s eyes, though, those she could still see. Brown and warm and concerned. She closed her eyes and nestled her head on her forelegs. “Goodnight, Button.”

His voice was quiet. “Goodnight, Sweetie.”

***

Martial Paw paused with his talon on the door of his Canterlot Castle suite. The sound of hoofsteps headed his direction halted his movement and pained his heart. He didn’t immediately recognize the gait, but a glance in her direction brought the commanding form of Captain Carrot into view. “Captain.”

“Martial Paw.” She synched her ponytailed mane tighter as she walked, one hoof awkwardly tugging on the strap. “Can we talk a moment?”

Martial pulled the door open and waved her in. “If it’s official Knight business, I suppose I can’t turn you down. Can I get you something to drink? Cordial? Soda?”

“I’ll have a soda, sure.” Care took a chair at the kitchenette’s table, while he fished around his small fridge for drinks. He procured a root beer and a cream soda and gave her a choice between them. She popped the top off the cream soda with a flick of her hoof.

He slid a straw into the root beer and took a sip. “Is it about the mission, ma’am?”

“A little.” She sipped straight from the bottle. She leaned an elbow on the table and tilted her horn at him. “I’ll get straight to the point: You tried to strangle Kiln Stovepipe after the battle.”

“Judging by the bruises on his neck,” Martial said, his voice at a low growl, “I’d say I succeeded in strangling him.”

“Fine, but my point was after the battle.” Care tapped the glass bottle on the table. “He was a noncombatant. He was even offering assistance to Rumble, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo. Knowing that, you still attacked him.”

“And?”

Care furrowed her brow. “Whadda yah mean ‘and?’”

“It means what I said.” Martial Paw took a quick slurp and spread a talon. “It means that when I saw that slimy, kidnapping, murdering scumbag, I decided to remove his head from his body as fast as possible. I feel no remorse, and I see no reason to repent. I’ll admit I was enraged in the wake of Daring Do’s death, but that just meant I took the longer route to see that spawn of a witch dead.”

He folded his talons beneath his beak and waited for her to speak. He had to admit, it felt good to get that out. To say exactly what he thought of Kiln and the whole misbegotten crew. To touch upon the pain Daring Do’s passing had given him. To tell this pony exactly what he intended. Oh, yes. He’d kill for a little peace of mind.

Care’s face didn’t do what he imagined. He imagined horror from this pony. Perhaps some mild sputtering and platitudes regarding proper behavior regarding prisoners.

He didn’t expect her to stand on her chair and slam her hooves into the table.

“You listen here, birdbrain—” Yikes. Going right for the slurs. “—I know for a fact, a fact, that Daring Do would never have assaulted a prisoner like that. She would never take a life unless necessary. She would never have condoned that sort of behavior.” She reached a hoof across the table to bump it against his chest. “And she woulda been ashamed of you for doing so!”

Martial felt the feathers on his neck heat up. Lightning tickled at the tips of his claws. He grasped the table and tossed it aside, nearly knocking Care from her perch. She balanced on the chair with four hooves to stabilize her. “You dare to tell me what she would have thought before her ashes have even settled?”

“I don’t have to tell you,” Care said, her face firm. “You know I’m right.”

Martial narrowed his eyes. “Back in Felaccia, we have a name for the self-righteous.”

“What’s that?”

“Future rugs.”

She rolled her eyes. She dropped from the chair to pick up the fallen bottles before they had time to completely empty their contents. She held the root beer out to him, her eyebrows level. “It’s not about self-righteousness. It’s about doing the right thing.”

He glared at the bottle, a growl deep in his throat. He dragged his talons across the cold marbled floor.

“I know you wanna honor Daring,” she said quietly. “I know you fought with her. Bled with her. Protected her. And she did all that for you, too.”

She picked up the table and shoved it back into place. She set the drinks upright and sat beside them. “I know it hurts. I know you hate Ahuizotl more than anything in the world right now. But we’ve got to do it right. No attacking noncombatants. No killing prisoners.” She crossed her forelegs across her chest. “I want you on the team, Martial. Daring wanted you on it, too. We can stop Ahuizotl together.”

She finished off what was left of her cream soda. “But we have to do it right. Can you do that?”

Martial clicked his beak. “Captain Carrot, Daring Do was the last thing I had left to love in this life. The last bit of family. She was taken away from me.” He spread his wings, sitting down and coming no closer to her. “Do you know what it’s like to lose everything that made you… you?”

Care frowned, her face softening a bit. “Not too long ago, somebody I put all my worth into was hurt. I blamed myself, and hated the monster who did it. It changed who I was, until all I could think about was revenge.” She leaned back in the chair, which creaked. “Daring helped pull me out of that, to bring me back to myself.”

Martial clenched his fists. “But she’s gone now, and all I have left is the ability to spread this pain to those who deserve it.”

“Good grief…” Care Carrot shut her eyes tight and rubbed her forehead. “Are you trying to get kicked off the squad?”

“I’m trying to relate to you the reality of the situation.” He pointed out the window, though he had no idea where his target was actually located. “Kiln is a bad person. Caballeron is a bad person. Rhombus doesn’t even deserve to be called a person. If I killed any one of them, they would better the entire world with their absence.”

“And if we were still fighting any of them,” Care said, “I’d probably agree with you. But there’s a process. They’re allies for the moment.”

“For the moment, but when the moment’s passed?” Martial threw his talons up and walked towards the window. Stars twinkled overhead, blinking merrily, but storm clouds loomed on the seaward horizon. “I’ll stay my sword, but only because it’s what Daring would have wanted.”

He peered into the clouds, and caught a glimpse of two cigar-shaped airships. The Corona and the Stella hummed towards Felaccia, carrying their royalty with them. The ache in Martial’s heart became a depthless pit.

“Have you really lost everything?”

Martial’s ears shot up and swiveled towards Care. He turned his head to one side to look her straight-on. She leaned against her hooves, her head nearly limp. She looked tired and weary, and he could tell her heart ached, too. They were all in pain; Blankety was the source of that truth.

He scratched his chin morosely. “You’re my commanding officer. You probably should know.”

He turned his memories back to happier times. Thoughts of sunbaked cliffsides, life-filled oases, skillfully-carved battlements. Home, at one time. “I was born into the Paw clan. One of the ruling families in Felaccia. It was expected that one day, I would follow in my father’s footsteps and become the Captain of the Guard; the leader of the Blitzwings. My father’s sister, Fayr, was Andean Ursagryph’s wife, and the mother of his children.”

He curled his talons around his beak to keep silent for a moment. When he spoke, the words were pained. “We loved each other very much.”

His wings sagged, and he let his talons drop to the floor. “When Fayr died of leukemia, my father was devastated. His political rivals saw it as a chance to supersede him. The strongest of them, Corvus Validus, challenged him to a duel.” His talons jabbed into his palm hard enough to draw a drop of blood. “He defeated my father. Humiliated him. Made a show of him. Validus was made head Blitzwing.”

He reached to his side to feel the comforting presence of his sword. “I hated Validus for it. I was expected to eventually defeat him in honorable combat and replace him, but… With all the pain we’d been through, I couldn’t take it.”

He turned to face Care fully, his brow low. “I found him as he was drunk from celebrating. And… I killed him. I stabbed him in the stomach and left him to die on the cliffside.”

He expected Care to react or interrupt somehow, but the mare continued to surprise him. She maintained her stance, listening closely. Her forehead furrowed, but beyond that, she simply waited for him to finish.

He found himself taken aback despite himself. He sighed, waving a talon dismissively. “My uncle—King Andean had no choice but to banish me according to our laws. Dishonorable combat. Murder. It’s simply not tolerated. I was set adrift, to travel the world and try to find a place for myself. Away from the people who could no longer call themselves my family.”

He eyed the root beer. He still had half a bottle. He drank it down, despite the fact that it wouldn’t really help his throat. “I found myself in Griffonstone, and was an outcast even among those grumps. I stayed as long as I could stand it…” He brought a talon to his chest. “Until she showed up. Daring appeared, searching for the Idol of Borealis. We ran into each other, and ended up helping each other. She offered me a spot in her crew.”

He sighed through his nostrils. “Even knowing what I’d done, where I’d come from, she still believed in me. I met Rainbow Dash, and Blankety Blank, and Humphrey, and her other oddballs.”

He sat across the table from Care, cradling his drink between both talons. The straw rattled around the bottle. He supposed he’d said all there was to say. He didn’t really have anything in him for more. That was all of him; his sins laid bare. His life summed up.

Rather than try to anticipate Care’s next move, he simply watched her. She apparently sensed that his story was done, so she nodded, stood up, and put her bottle in the recycling bin. She placed a hoof on the table beside his talon. “You haven’t lost everything, Martial. We’ve got your back. Can I trust you to have ours?”

He looked her right in the eye. After a heavy moment, he glanced away. “I believe so, Captain.”

“Care.” She nodded firmly. “And I believe so, too. Daring was smart about this sort of thing.”

She left through the door, and let it latch softly behind her. Martial Paw held his head in his talons, his mind racing and his heart fit to burst. Daring was indeed smart about this sort of thing.

But she was still dead.

Author's Note:

Caballeron's song is set to the tune of "The Neva Flows" from the Anastasia Broadway Musical.

Comments

[RadicalDishonesty]

Some much needed interaction between Button and Sweetie here, this chapter. It's great to see them getting some time together.

Good thing Caballeron was nice to them, too, and gave them some time.

So, Button isn't swayed by Sweetie. I remember Twilight's old theory as to what kind of thing produces immunity to Sirens, but she also only knew about the gem sirens, and not natural sirens, and the rules of immunity might be rather different.

But... I'd have to go back, and see if as Sweetie sings there are other people who are swayed or not, and if any people seem to be more... resilient to it.

Care and Martial form a tenuous alliance, which shouldn't be a thing given they're unambiguously on the same side but tenuous it is!

[howard035]

Button and Sweetie buck each other up, and Caballeron shares some of his pain. His song was moving, though quite sad. It made me realize, if Happy had lived, Cab and Merry would probably be grandparents by now, and the annoying Pegasus Cab would have to put up with isn't Rhombus, just that shiftless brother of his daughter in law trying to mooch money off them while he pursues a career in Mane Care.

Wow, I have to say I love that Martial's backstory is tied into our old friend! I'm guessing Validus was a cousin of the Corvus we know. (Felaccian bit of wisdom: The difference between Corvus clan and actual crows is, actual crows need to be in a group before they are called a murder, you only need one Corvus for a murder!)

We've definitely got more of a nuanced understanding of Martial now. And I can understand why Care thinks he's dangerous. Martial sounds like he has nothing to lose, or at least he thinks he does. That's not a good thing to have in a teammate. Hopefully Daring's example will be enough in the short term.

[howard035]

9345474

Huh? He tells the future?

He predicts that non-ponies will use friendship to ally against ponies, right now it doesn't look like he's wrong.

Imagine if A.K. Yearling's fanbase got the word. Ahuizotl would be dead by suppertime, and they'd still complain about him in the fanzines.

By morning Ahuizotl's hide would have been converted into a dozen body pillows!