• Published 25th Mar 2013
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My Brother, the Storyteller - gmen15



Rumble loves his big brother. But more importantly, he loves the stories he tells. This is a story about the lengths to which a stallion will go to protect his younger brother's innocence

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Thunderlane's Tall Tales

My Brother, the Storyteller

Chapter 1: Thunderlane’s Tall Tales

Rumble was a colt that loved the night. It wasn’t just that he had a crush on a certain goddess of the night that had been trapped on the moon for a millennium, or only because he was free from the stresses of school. He loved it because of the time he got to spend with his older brother, Thunderlane. Whether it was through his playfulness or his gripping storytelling, Thunderlane seemed to make all worries that had piled up onto Rumble's back evaporate into nothingness. To Rumble, he was the best big brother ever. There were many words Rumble could use to describe Thunderlane: funny, kind, supportive, smart. But there was always one word that dominated the rest.

Escapist.

Most of Rumble’s day was long and arduous. His mornings and afternoons were spent at school, where he’d sit in his hard chair, drifting off into his imagination while his teacher, Miss Cheerilee, rambled on about some topic that was not only boring, but would never be of use in his future life. At least that was what Thunderlane had told him. Then again, he never was one for school, or any kind of formal education. He was a stallion that lived his life based on experience rather than what he was taught in classrooms as a colt.

“All that stuff they teach you in school is useless”, he’d scoff. “It doesn’t matter how much you know about complicated algebra or the history of the Griffon Kingdom, it’ll never be of any use in day-to-day life. Textbook knowledge only gets you so far in the real world, kiddo. Remember that, and you’ll always be ahead of the game.”

And remember he did. After all, Thunderlane’s logic was hard to refute. Rumble knew that his brother was much wiser in regards to life than most ponies he knew: young or old. That is how Thunderlane would present himself in public: logical, streetwise, mature, and, above all else, macho.

However, when the two brothers were by themselves in their home, Thunderlane would shed that exterior image of being a mature, rational stallion and adopt the image of a- for the lack of a better word- goofball.

Thunderlane was a silly pony that loved to play around. He expressed his love of sports around his friends while secretly enjoying tales of fantasy and adventure with his younger brother. He enjoyed everything from novels to plays to movies- so long as nopony other than his younger brother would witness it. But his love of what many would consider “passions of the nerds”, wasn’t solely limited to forms of media. For Thunderlane, and consequently Rumble, it went even deeper than that.

Every day, once Rumble got home from school, he would be met with the sight of an extremely playful Thunderlane, who sometimes went so far as to pretend to be a monstrous beast or a sinister wizard or even a gallant knight corrupted to do evil. It all depended on what role he felt most inclined to adopt that particular night.

One time when Rumble returned home from school, he was greeted by Thunderlane standing behind the door wearing royal guard armor, which was really just an old Nightmare Night costume he dug out of the basement. He stood tall and proud, telling Rumble that in order to pass he must answer three questions, lest he be thrown into the “eternal pit of doom”. Rumble puffed out his chest and exclaimed that he wasn’t afraid; how he would answer the questions faster than a speeding Wonderbolt. With a fox-like grin, Thunderlane asked the questions.

Rumble answered the first two without a problem: what his name was and what he hoped to accomplish by passing into the house. But the third question, as it normally did, stumped him. In fact every time Thunderlane decided to play this game, he would chose a final question that would be nigh impossible for anypony without a doctorate to answer: What year did the first battle of the Griffon Kingdom take place? Who were the first three captains of the Wonderbolts (in order)? What is the fastest speed ever recorded for a pegasus and who accomplished it?

This night, Thunderlane asked his younger brother for the name of the pony that created the amniomorphic spell. Rumble struggled to remember the name, but he knew that he had heard it before. The town librarian Twilight Sparkle, had brought it up a while back. He struggled, trying to get the answer that dangled on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t remember. Pacing back and forth, he tried his absolute hardest to come up with something, anything, that could work as an answer. Alas, no matter how hard he strained, it wouldn’t come to him.

Once certain that Rumble was unable to answer, Thunderlane shook his head and said in his most sinister, serpentine voice said “your time is up”. He then broke his stoic act and pulled Rumble close to his chest, giving him a rough noogie and messing up his mane - his punishment for failing to answer the questions three. This caused the both of them to erupt into a playful laughter, Rumble trying to swat his brother’s hoof away while Thunderlane put Rumble into a gentle head-lock and continued his noogie torture until both of them had thoroughly exhausted themselves.

They then sat on the carpet and discussed their day between pants. Rumble talked about how boring school was and how he got pushed into the mud by some colts. Thunderlane growled, asking for the bully’s names, but Rumble refused. Thunderlane tried to get him to spill the beans a few more times, but after awhile it became apparent that he was never going to get his brother to tattle, so he simply told him to stand up for himself in the future.

Thunderlane then told Rumble about his day managing the skies, going on and on about the various pegasi he worked with, including an overly-muscled pony with tiny wings named Snowflake. Rumble couldn’t help but snicker as the image of the beefy pony popped up in his mind, which earned him a cool glare from Thunderlane. Realizing he was being rude, Rumble stopped laughing and apologized. Thunderlane’s smile returned before he continued talking about how they had to spend the entire day kicking clouds, and that his legs were still sore, though he didn’t limp or grunt with each step. By the way he presented himself, Rumble would never have guessed.

The conversation continued for a while until Thunderlane decided it was time to get dinner started. They didn’t have anything extravagant: macaroni and cheese with a side of lightly-salted hayfries. But no matter how simple the dish was, Rumble found it extremely satisfying and loved it. He was always amazed how his brother was able to bring out the best in such a simple meal. Maybe it was some twist on an old recipe, or perhaps it was the company of Thunderlane that made it so great. Either way, Rumble loved dinner time.

But the fun didn’t end after their meals had been devoured. Once the brothers finished eating and had cleaned the kitchen, they went back in the living room to play around some more. Because Rumble didn’t have much homework and Thunderlane didn’t have many chores, they spent the rest of the evening acting out the most ridiculous of tales. Rumble donned his own knight costume, complete with a fake sword, while Thunderlane pretended to be Rumble’s favorite creature- a fire-breathing dragon.

Thunderlane stomped around the living room, roaring and pretending to shoot flames from his mouth. Rumble avoided the imaginary balls of fire by ducking and dodging behind anything he could find, from the sofa, to the armchair, to the wall. He managed to grab a pillow to use as a shield as he rolled behind the couch, pressing his back against it as he heard the threatening hoof-stomps of his brother.

“I know you’re around here. I can smell your fear, lingering like fog in the air,” Thunderlane said in a deep voice, laughing menacingly. Rumble smiled, his heart beating like a rabbit’s foot against his chest. His breathing quick and shallow. His smile broad and beaming.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Rumble shouted, his voice quaking as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Ah, you may not be afraid now, but you will be.” Thunderlane said, his voice growing nearer, “And in your carelessness, you’ve just exposed your position to me. Hehehe.” Before Rumble could retort, his brother’s black head popped out to his left. He turned to see Thunderlane grinning. In the shadow of the couch, Rumble could swear for the briefest of moments Thunderlane took on the form of a dragon.

“Hello...Rumble.”

The colt let out a perfect mix between a scream and a laugh, leaping away and running off with Thunderlane in hot pursuit. The older stallion stopped briefly, reared up onto his hind-hooves and let out a roar that was so authentic, Rumble felt a momentary surge of fear rush through him. But they were playing around, so it was a fear Rumble welcomed.

They continued this routine for a long while. Almost an hour of Rumble diving, ducking, dipping, dodging and evading imaginary death. When Rumble vanished for certain amounts of time, Thunderlane would monologue, lacing some menacing laughs into his speech. He would then either find Rumble, or Rumble would jump out and stick out his tongue in an attempt to taunt his faux dragon brother. The chase would then continue like normal, with lots of stomping and roaring.

Sometimes Rumble wondered if any of their neighbors could hear them through the aging walls of their home. If so, it probably sounded like a mental ward, Rumble reasoned. Not that he cared, he didn’t. All that mattered was that he was having a good time with his big brother.

Having thoroughly worked up a good sweat and feeling his legs give out beneath him from exhaustion, Rumble decided that it was time to put his attack strategy to the test. He held his pillow-shield out in front of him to deflect Thunderlane’s flames and inched towards him until he got close enough to thrust the plastic sword towards him.

Thunderlane then, as he usually did, let the sword go under his foreleg and clamped down on it so it appeared, from the side, that he had actually been slain. Thunderlane- in a comically dramatic manner- gagged a few times, keeled over and “died”. Rumble burst into laughter, looking at Thunderlane’s limp body: tongue lolling out and eye twitching. It was like watching a cartoon character perish.

Soon after, Thunderlane “resurrected” himself before he grabbed his little brother and, pulling him close, gave him yet another noogie as revenge. The two siblings shared laughter until the nearby grandfather clock strike nine. As with every night, their laughter ceased at this time.

Thunderlane’s expression instantly became serious as he gazed down at his little brother, ordering him upstairs. Rumble complained, but in the end Thunderlane once again got his way and the little colt sulked up the stairs to brush his teeth and lay in his bed. There, he waited for Thunderlane to come up to read him his nightly bedtime story.

Sometimes, the stallion would come in only twenty minutes after sending Rumble upstairs, though that was a rarity. More often than not, Rumble would wait patiently for up to an hour. During the time between going upstairs and Thunderlane’s appearance, Rumble would hear the front door to their house open as his father returned home. Not a night had gone by where Rumble did not want to run downstairs to greet him, but he knew doing so would only lead to Thunderlane scolding him. And when Thunderlane was scolding, his voice was enough to make the whole house tremble. His convincing dragon act was comedy compared to his true self when he was fuming.

Ever since their mother had moved out over a year before, Rumble hardly spent any time with his dad. In fact, the only time he got to see him was either in the morning before school when he’d see him passed out on the couch- something that puzzled the colt as his dad had a perfectly fine bed to sleep in upstairs- or on the weekends when he didn’t work. But for some reason, Thunderlane would never let Rumble leave his room after he was sent up. It always puzzled him, but he just rolled with it.

As he continued to wait, he heard crashing noises coming from downstairs. It was just like every night. He’d hear strange and violent noises coming from downstairs, ranging from cursing to smashing. It was so sporadic that he couldn’t put a hoof on what exactly was going on. Finally, the odd noises would stop, and Rumble would know that Thunderlane would be up soon. He listened for the familiar sound of hoof-steps trudging up the stairs, which got closer and closer before the door to Rumble’s room creaked open. A very tired-looking Thunderlane slowly trotted through the open doorway.

Usually he’d just look a little dishevelled, his mane messy and his eyes drooping. Other times he’d have a mysterious cut or bruise on his face. But no matter how terrible Thunderlane looked, Rumble didn’t speak up. He knew that the stallion would only skirt his questions and change the subject. It would have been a pointless effort.

This night was no different. Even with the clear black-and-blue mark streaked across Thunderlane’s cheek standing out prominently in the light of the bedside lamp, the curious colt stayed quiet.

Besides, it was story time, when the exhausting day could be abandoned as both brothers escaped into a fictional world of Thunderlane’s making..

Thunderlane gently closed the door behind him. Turning, he gave his brother a warm smile. He trotted over to the side of the bed and sit his flank onto the carpeted floor.

“So,” he started, turning towards Rumble. “What kind of tale do you want to hear tonight? One of action? Adventure? Romance?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the young colt chuckled. Rumble would almost always chose either an action or adventure story. He wasn’t that big into romance, even if he was one of the only colts his age not entirely opposed to it since he was at the age where most of his classmates thought girls carried the epidemic known as ‘cooties.’ And since most ponies in Rumble’s class, much like most ponies in Ponyville, were female, that meant most of his classmates were ‘infected’.

Though his stories were primarily centered on adventures, Thunderlane would still find ways to sprinkle seeds of romance into them. He said it was to mess with his brother, knowing how much Rumble dislike romance. He would have complained about it had it not been story time- the best time of night. The time when all of his daily worries melted away into the puddle of the past as he entered the present wonder of his and his brother's joint imagination. As long as he got an awesome, action-packed story out of it, Rumble could handle a little sappiness.

In the darkness of his room, all tucked comfortably into his bed with his blanket pulled up to his chin, Rumble lay back and listened as Thunderlane cleared his throat to begin his story. For this story, he chose to tell the tale of a heroic knight.

It wasn’t always a knight, however. Sometimes it was a warrior or a soldier or whomever the designated hero of the night happened to be. One time he even told the story of a heroic bounty hunter living during the dark ages of Equestria that helped an escaped pony free his marefriend from the slavery of fictitious ruler King Candie - a rather bloody tale for such a young colt, but Thunderlane told it anyway. He knew that his little brother could handle it. It was just a story, after all- a story of a pony named Django.

More often than not, however, the character in Thunderlane’s tales would be a knight. Specifically, it would be a blank-flank pegasus stallion with a grey coat and flowing black mane who went by the ever so subtle name of ‘Rumble the Valiant’, the most renowned knight in all of Equestria.

He was strong, noble, courageous and, above all else, handsome. So handsome, in fact, that he’d court a different mare at the end of each story. It was as if he couldn’t hold down a steady relationship with anyone. Rumble, however, didn’t care about this. All that mattered to him was that he was a hero, and mares dug heroes.

There was nothing the colt enjoyed more than listening to his brother throw his older self-insert into various situations of conflict that he would manage to find a way out of each and every time.

Rumble would take it a step further, imagining that the knight was his own age. A school-aged colt rather than a full-grown stallion. He reasoned that a little narcissism never hurt anypony. Not to mention it was the one time he felt that he was allowed to be narcissistic, or even ‘proud’ of himself. Several of his tormentors at school made certain of that.

Thunderlane cleared his throat and began the story:

On this dark night, Rumble found himself in a deserted wasteland- a vast place with sandy earth, where cacti and shrubs no larger than mice were the only vegetation. He came up to a magnificent castle. It was a strange sight, a magnificent castle among the barren wasteland that surrounded it. But he didn’t ponder it, he accepted it openly for he knew that inside, he would find his maiden.

But before he could get too close to the entrance, a dark shadow leapt from behind a nearby rock. Rumble watched in horror as a terrifying manticore landed in front of him, panting and glaring at the knight with feral eyes. The beast reared back on its hind legs and let out a deafening roar, breaking the silence of the otherwise silent night. The beast charged and swatted Rumble across the head, sending him skidding across the ground in a cloud of golden sand.

Rumble felt his sword fly from his hoof, landing about two feet from where he lay. He looked up just in time to see the manticore leap towards him, teeth bared, and land on him. He was pinned, trapped beneath the monster, smelling its rancid breath as it looked down at him, growling and slobbering like a hungry dog. He struggled to get free, reaching out towards his sword with one hoof as he pushed the manticore’s paw with the other.

He kept pawing at it in vain, desperately trying to get it. He looked up to see that the manticore was grinning victoriously. Rumble had fallen into his trap, or so the beast thought. The manticore raised a massive paw, claws glistening under the moonlight, ready to end the knight’s journey early with a swift swipe to the jugular.

But before it could do so, Rumble finally managed to reach the sword. He grabbed onto the handle and in a silver flash thrust it into the monster’s chest. In an instant and a streak of red, the manticore stumbled to the ground, clutching its chest as blood gushed out. Carefully, Rumble got to his hooves, still a bit shaky from the attack. He looked up to see the manticore laying on its side, the life slowly leaving it. It let out a few pathetic whimpers, its eyes that once showed a blazing heat were now cooled and tired. Its paw lay limp on its chest. What had once been a killer monster a few moments before now looked more like a wounded kitten. All dignity it had was dying along with it.

Pitying the manticore, Rumble trotted over to it with his sword in hoof. He raised the blade high above his head and looked down into its eyes. Its eyes sad, almost begging for him to deal the final blow.

Rumble looked back up and took a deep breath. He plunged his sword into the manticore’s throat. There was no blood-curdling roar, only silence. The whimpering and sounds of movement coming from the great beast were no more. Rumble could only hear his own ragged breathing as he stood above the manticore’s body. His armor and exposed fur was covered in blood, from both the manticore and himself, but he was alive.

Rumble looked back up at the castle, now safe for him to enter (as far as he could tell). He trotted towards the entrance and pushed the door open, revealing the near pitch-black interior.

The knight slipped into the frigid castle. He proceeded while staying pressed up against the wall, feeling his way until he turned a corner. Torches lined the walls, giving Rumble some visibility. At the end of the hall was a set of spiral stairs- narrow and dangerous. He sighed and made his way to them and started his climb, soon discovering that the steps were extremely frail. His hoof burst through two of the steps. Fortunately, the ever-vigilant Rumble was able to re-stabilize and continue up until he reached the final step. He found himself in a massive room, so large that calling out would have most likely created an echo. In a far corner was a cobweb-covered piano, from the ceiling hung an ancient chandelier. And at the opposite end of the room was what Rumble was looking for: a door that he knew was the last barrier that stood between him and his damsel in distress.

Rumble rolled his eyes at that part. He hated damsels in distress, being much more into “rough-and-tumble” tomboy fillies. Nevertheless, Rumble put aside his own biases and continued listening to the story.

Rumble let out a small laugh, pleasantly surprised as to how easy breaking into the castle had been thus far. But before he could even enter the room, he heard what sounded like tiny little wings buzzing on the walls. To his right he saw a torch. He picked it up and moved it in front of him. The room was too large to see what exactly the noise was coming from, but there was unmistakable movement on the walls. Rumble swallowed hard and slowly made his way into the room. He got about halfway when the wings beat faster and faster. Soon, the sound was right on top of him as he ducked just in time to avoid the swarm of beetles that buzzed overhead.

He stayed low, knowing that these beetles were Dart Beetles and could devour a pony in a matter of seconds. He could hear the wings coming closer and closer to him. He felt a nip at his rump and turned to see one of the insects with its pincers planted firmly in his flesh. He squashed it with his hoof only to see another beetle land on his back. He over, careful not to smother the torch in his hand, and crushed the beetle into a small puddle of guts and chitin. He waved the torch above him trying to keep the bugs at bay, but it was only so effective as they were still finding places on his body to land. Rumble knew full well that he was done for unless he thought of something fast.

And that’s when it hit him.

Reaching into his saddlebag, he pulled out what looked like a crystal. The witch he visited before his departure had told him the crystal would help him when he faced his darkest foe. And seeing as the entire room was growing near pitch-black in the presence of the beetles, he assumed that now was no better time to make use of it.

“Wait a second!” Rumble interrupted. “When the hay did he get a crystal? You never explained that!”

“Remember the story from two nights ago?” Thunderlane said. Rumble nodded. “Okay, then do you remember how the witch gave Rumble a few items, one of which was a crystal?”

Rumble thought for a second before nodding, “Oh yeah, that’s right. Sorry, I thought you were pulling things out of mid-air to advance the plot.”

“Well I don’t do that, as I’m not lazy. Besides, I expect my audience to be smart enough to remember little things like that. Am I wrong to think that, Rumble? Aren’t you smart?”

“Of course I’m smart!” Rumble said, scowling. “I’m one of the smartest colts in my class! You don’t need to explain everything to me!”

“Good,” Thunderlane laughed, “now if you’re done with your little inquiry, my I return to the story?”

Rumble nodded, his pouting gone by the time Thunderlane continued his narration.

He held the crystal high and, almost immediately, a bright green light shone from it. The beetles screeched and started to fly off. Even those that landed on his body, upon seeing the brightness of the light, bailed. Soon the beetles were no longer in the air above him, they had flown back to the walls. Slowly, Rumble stood up. His armor protected most of his body from the attack. Only a few bites on the exposed areas could be seen. Sighing, Rumble held the crystal high, which was still emitting a powerful green glow, and completed his journey across the room. Rumble opened the door and entered before quickly closing it behind him to keep a barrier between himself and the beetles.

Inside was a tiny bedroom with a single window. There was no light and no way to tell time save for the window which allowed one to discern whether it was day nor night, but not much else. The walls were bland and concrete, with no adornment save for the numerous tallies left by the Princess to estimate her lengthy stay. But Rumble didn’t have time to count how many streaks the Princess had made in the wall, and trotted to her bed, where he spotted the Princess sleeping.

He approached, taking off his sweat-covered helmet, its surface showing damage from the fight with the manticore. He looked down upon the face of the Princess, the one he had been searching tirelessly for. She was an alicorn. Her coat was a sleek ivory color, and even when tucked at her sides, her wings looked majestic. A halo-like light around her head made her knight in shining armor blush through his grey coat.

She was the most beautiful mare the knight had ever seen.

Of course every mare in every story Thunderlane told was “the most beautiful one the knight had ever seen”, so Rumble took that otherwise bold statement with a grain of salt.

Back in the fantasy, Rumble gazed upon the mare in awe. The light was then serving its third purpose, illuminating the Princess in such a way that she took on the appearance of a goddess fallen from the heavens. Slowly she stirred and let out a small yawn before waking. She looked up and her piercing violet eyes met Rumble’s own. She smiled sweetly. It was a smile of relief and appreciation, and love.

Rumble cleared his throat to speak, “M’lady, I have come to rescue you from this terrible place and bring you home to your family and subjects, where you’ll be safe and sound from this dreadful place.”

A smile spread across the Princess’ face. “I know. Thank you so much for saving me, Sir Rumble,” she whispered in a melodic voice, putting her hoof behind Rumble’s head and pulling him close, her warm breath mixing with his own. His face continued to move lower, inching its way closer to the mare’s enticing mouth. Rumble closed his eyes and braced for sweet impact.

It was at this point that Rumble, the real Rumble, snapped. He desperately waved his hooves around and sticking out his tongue in disgust at the very idea of something as lovey-dovey as kissing making its way into his knight story. Thunderlane stopped telling the story, snickering at his brother’s overreaction.

Now finished with the telling of his impromptu tale, Thunderlane leaned over and give his brother a gentle kiss on the forehead, an expression of brotherly affection that made the still-squeamish Rumble even more so.

“Ewww, come on Thunder! That’s gross.” The colt spat in disgust.

“Welcome to the real world, Rumble, where kisses are good and plenty. Especially from those that love you.” Thunderlane chuckled before giving Rumble’s mane one, final rub. He stood up and making his way towards the door. He opened it a crack before turning back towards Rumble with a kind smile on his face, though his eyes were glassy. “Goodnight kiddo, sleep tight and don’t let the parasprites bite.”

“You’re only kidding! Parasprites don’t bite ponies!”

“Dang, I remember when you used to fall for that all the time when you were younger.” Thunderlane smiled, his white teeth and golden eyes glowed in the dark room. Rumble smiled back, giggling slightly along with his brother. “See you tomorrow.”

Thunderlane slipped out into the dimly-lit hallway and closing the door behind him. Rumble was now alone.

He looked at the crack beneath the door through which he could see Thunderlane’s shadow. He stared, waiting for it to vanish, but it staying in proximity of the doorway as if Thunderlane was just standing outside, doing nothing. Rumble then heard what he thought was a whimper or a cry, but he pushed the assumption aside as mere hallucination.

Finally, the shadow vanished and Rumble was finally, truly alone. He moved onto his side and gazed out his bedroom window. The darkness of the night coupled with the brilliance of Luna’s moon always took Rumble’s breath away, and this night was no different. Not that he’d admit it to anyone at school, as he’d get ragged on even more than normal. But it wasn’t something he had control over. It had pierced his imagination, for the sight always reminded him of the long, dangerous treks under the night sky and full moon that Thunderlane always said ‘Rumble the Valiant’ went on.

The colt felt his his eyelids start to grow heavy as his mind continued to run wild. He imagined himself as the fictional knight from his brother’s stories. It wasn’t difficult, after all the character was, in essence, him. Just a braver, stronger, and more popular version of him. It was the pony he wished to be, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

However, it still helped him fall asleep and provided him with dreams where he was the gallant knight of his brother’s tales.