Unforgiven
It was, after all, a simple matter. An enchanted knife lay skewed on the table in front of him, a knife that with one insert, would kill a pony. No blood, no pain. Just an end.
There were two ponies in the room, one on either end of the table. Simply looking at them through the window, one could not tell who was the hostage, and who was the interrogator. They looked at each other steadily in the eye, equal shows of confidence, equal amounts of nervousness bubbling under the surface.
One was wearing a blue uniform, the other orange. One had a small crescent on his chest, the other a flaming sun. If it was not for the difference in their clothing, one who looked through the window would not have been able to tell them apart, since their clothing so neatly covered their cutie mark.
Rumble had, in his older age, grown to look so much like Thunderlane, a fact which he both resented and exercised. Thunderlane could not remember the hundreds of times that security had been circumnavigated due to his little brother’s sheer ability to impersonate him. Rumble knew his speech patterns, knew his secrets, knew his favorite flavor of ice cream and his first marefriend.
Thunderlane only wished he could say the same in return.
Despite appearances, Rumble did not have equal power to Thunderlane. Comet Tail had put a precise spell on him, so he could move anything beyond his face and head. It was up to Thunderlane to decide what to do with the enchanted knife.
They had put him in this room to prove himself.
The reasoning was simple, and Thunderlane knew it. If he killed himself, then it would show that he was weak, and it would be good that they got rid of the waste of a pony. If he killed Rumble, then he would prove his allegiance to Celestia and The Solar Cause, and they could groom him into the killing machine that they wanted.
They, they, they. The generals, the officers, the strategists, who sat on their fancy couches in Canterlot and only saw numbers, didn’t see the faces of ponies before they were slaughtered, didn’t see the burials, didn’t see the remains scattered across a battlefield, didn’t see the blood.
They, they, they.
Thunderlane tried to rationalize the decision in his head. Rumble had disowned him as a brother long ago. Therefore, they had no connection beyond the room that they sat in. As they were, Rumble was the enemy, and Thunderlane was the exterminator. Rumble had refused to defect or give any information, so he was to be killed.
Thunderlane found himself attempting to rationalize the other decision. There were no guards around, and the room was soundproof. He could tell Rumble how to leave, how to get out without being caught, and then take his own life. Did he owe his life to his little brother? Rumble had so much life ahead of him, so many things he could do once the war was over-if the war was over. Wars had lasted generations, Thunderlane knew from his history class. They could just be swept up in a sea of ponies, a minute number in a mass of stories.
“Well?” Rumble asked, his voice rough. Thunderlane had never heard his little brother speak to him like this, hadn’t heard his little brother even speak since his voice had changed. His last memories were of it cracking whenever he tried to sing, and even though it was obscured, Thunderlane could still see the microphone on his flank, even if the soft blue fabric covered it. “Are you going to do it or not?”
“Rumble,” Thunderlane said softly.
“Rumble what?” he demanded. “Just kill me already. I’d rather die knowing I fought for freedom than live knowing that I was a traitor.”
“Still dramatic,” Thunderlane murmured. His eyes lingered on the knife, faintly glowing with the power of the enchantment.
“Oh, don’t try your sentimental stuff with me, I don’t give a flying feather,” he said. He struggled a little against the magical bonds. “Just knife me already! I know you want to!”
“I wanted to,” Thunderlane admitted. “After you left us. I wanted to kill you because nopony in the house could sleep at night, we were all wondering if you had been slaughtered by another hoof. I just wanted to get it out of the way.”
“Fine then, do it so you can stop worrying,” Rumble sneered. “And I’m the dramatic one,” he said under his breath.
“Rumble...I...I...”
“You what, you old donkey? You’re sorry? You’re still my brother? You want me to join the side of some tyrant that kept the truth from all of us for thousands of years, the one that suppresses us and forces us to follow her every whim and command? What could you possibly have to say for yourself?” Rumble roared, thrashing wildly. “You can’t possibly have anything to say for yourself! Just knife me, and do it silently. I don’t want any words from you.”
Thunderlane looked at him steadily, unable to find the words to explain it, explain the tears welling in his eyes, and the guilt and nausea and hatred and love all mixing and pooling in his stomach, the way his heart was thrashing against himself, the way that he felt so dead and alive when he looked at the knife.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, unable to meet his brother’s angry gaze.
“Well that changes everything,” Rumble said sarcastically. “Let’s hug and kiss and go flying together, Thunder! Isn’t that what we would always do whenever we got in a fight? Just pretend it never happened and go back to where we were. Isn’t that what we did when we wrote to each other a couple years into the war? The letters that nearly got both of us killed? I’m not hiding anymore, no matter what you try to do. I hate you. We’re on the opposite sides of a war. Kill me.”
All Thunderlane could do was stare at the knife, and wince at his brother’s harsh words. They cut into him far deeper than any knife ever could.
“You can’t even look at me, you bucker!” Rumble cried. “Look at me! Look at me when you’re going to kill me!”
“I’m sorry,” Thunderlane mumbled again. He reached for the knife on the table.
Author's Note
This is my first published fanfiction! I'm so excited. :D This is a one-shot, but it may develop into a one-shot series revolving around Thunderlane and Rumble and their opposing sides in the Equestrian Civil War. I've seen so much amazing NLR/Solar Empire artwork out there I'm just itching to delve into the fandom and write some stuff that can hopefully live up to it. However, I do have other projects, so I'm going to try to hammer out some other things before I revisit this.
That being said, comment, like, dislike, everything! Just let me know how I'm doing, and be sure to include constructive criticism so I can improve as much as possible.
Thanks everypony!
Quills
