Home always seems far from the battlefield. Every soldier will agree. 5 days felt like 5 weeks for Morrigan. He was surprised they managed the same pace – Of course, with the sudden decrease in numbers, he supposed it made some sort of morbid sense. Less mouths to feed at meal, less hooves to tire out; There seemed to be less of everything in the ‘army’.

50 men weren’t much of an army. They had been strong, so very strong… Morrigan had labeled them an army when, truly, they were simply stallions, lined up like dominos to fall. 50 stallions, who had all gone to battle. 50 stallions who had hoped to win. 50 stallions who walked to possible death.

41 who faced death and lost.

Morrigan felt numb. It was a strange feeling. His face was grim the entire march home. He did no talk to anypony – He simply listened to facts. He listened as Cedar and those remaining discussed all that went wrong. The cavalry from the king never came. The changelings had gone a long way around, hidden by the rock structures surrounding the borders. They outflanked the ‘army’ on both sides, effectively surrounding the knights.

The other knights were not the most experienced. They were not the strongest, or the most cunning. Morrigan analyzed them all over those 5 days of returning bitterly to their home. They all had but one thing in common. They all got lucky. A lucky blow here, a chance slip up by the enemy there – That was the only thing that truly saved them in the end. They had faced death in the face, but at the last moment, somepony else rang his bell. Somepony else took the fall.

The men were quiet throughout the journey. Morrigan supposed that was just how it was. On the way to the battle, there had been morale. Singing in the barracks, tales of women and mead and a good life awaiting them upon their return. Now, none could delude themselves. All that awaited them upon their return were widows and half – orphaned children. Tears and pain awaited them. If they got lucky, relieved family and friends expected them, had anxiously sat and toiled and simply wished they returned safely.

The journey was a long one. But the return was longer.

The village was the same as it had always been. Upon their return, Morrigan could see the smoke curling away from the chimneys on the rooftops. He saw children laughing as they played, their innocence safe and secure in their peaceful little village. That is, until they saw the knights, bruised and bandaged, tired and numb from the journey and battle.

Word spread through town that the knights had returned – That only nine had returned. Ponies slowly gathered round the square as the soldiers slowly marched. Morrigan watched with tired deadness as newly made widows cried as the realization that their husbands were gone. He watched mothers sob and be held by somepony, anypony who cared. He watched relief mix with sorrow on others faces – Relief their soldier made it; Sorrow that their friends didn’t.

Morrigan saw his mother and father. He smiled weakly, but that grimness that had set in from battle quickly returned. He walked to them and bowed his head lightly. His mother latched onto him, sobbing openly – Women were always more emotional. “Oh, son of mine…” She just held him, crying tears of joy at her son returning home.

Morrigan glanced at his father. Strike simply nodded, but Morrigan could see a small smile on his father’s face. That was a glowing sign of approval from him, as well as a tight embrace. He closed his eyes slightly and hugged his mother. “I’m home, Mother. I’ve returned.”

His mother sighed, looking him in the eyes. He couldn’t help but smile softly, wiping away a few of her stray tears. She chuckled lightly, smiling through it all. “Thank thee, son… Thank thee for thy return.”

“Always.”

This same situation played out throughout those gathered. 9 groups who still had hope, still held meaning in the term ‘family’. They embraced, relished in the feeling of relief upon their return home. Cedar came to stand in the middle of the square, his face ragged and eyes tired. “Lend me thy ears,” he said softly, yet firmly. As the words left his lips, the crowd that had formed became silent.

“Family. Friends. Thou hath come to know that these two things today hath been lost to us. Our enemies have been beaten back, but for how long, we cannot know. We shall rise to stop them, and we will best them each time… But I tell thee this now. If fail we do, every stallion, mare and foal must be prepared. We will fight for thee till the bitter end, yet that end could be closer than we realize.” A resounding silence followed his little speech, a few ponies nodding in agreement. “Yet, for now, we shall morn those who shed their blood and gave their lives for their fief and kingdom today.”

Morrigan moved aside from the groups as mourning families who had lost more than he could know came to Cedar to talk. He felt… sickened. Mortified. He had once thought of battle as glory and wonder, of something to practically laugh at. If he tried to laugh now, he was almost certain he could vomit at the cruelty of it all, of the distaste of it all. There was nothing to laugh at anymore. There was only death in his dreams of victory.

He kept his head down. He did not wish for the ponies gathered to see his grimness. They were used to his jovial smile, not his downhearted gaze. However, his head could not remain as low as he heard a soft voice, questioning. “Morrigan?”

He looked up as he saw Katrina. Her eyes were full of worry. Those beautiful, sky blue eyes. They seemed, at least for the moment, to wash away the emerald blood. The waves in her hair melted the grimness that had held his heart. He stood a bit taller. “Katrina…”

He didn’t care anymore. In one swift movement, he embraced her, feeling tears roll down his face. He didn’t care who saw. He didn’t care what ponies might say. As he saw her, he realized he could never live without her. What the changeling had said was right. He and ‘that earth pony’… Her and he, they were meant for love.

Katrina blushed, but did not protest. She gently held him as she rested her small form against his chest. She nudged her head under his, breathing softly. “Morrigan… I-I was so scared… I thought I had lost thee to those beasts…”

“For some time there, I had thought the same… But I kept fighting, if only to say one thing, Katrina.”

“Morrigan…”

“I love thee.” Katrina looked up at him, shock on her face. It was not shock at the fact that he did love her. It was something many ponies already knew. It was shock that he had admitted it, now, and the way he had said it. It was true, pure and innocent. “I love thee,” he repeated, smiling for what felt like the first time in years to him. “I love thee, and I always will, my Katrina.”

“M-Morrigan…” Katrina felt tears rolling down her face. “W-what will ponies say, w-we”

“I don’t care what they say. I love thee, and their words can n’er tear us apart.” Katrina blushed, looking scared, yet smiling. To prove his point, he smiled further. Leaning down, he kissed her, fair on the lips. She gasped behind the kiss, but did not deny it. They held the kiss a few moments, to separate and simply gaze into each other’s eyes.

“… I love thee as well, Morrigan.” With that, the sorrow that filled him was burned away. It might return, but their love would stay and fight it. They would fight anything that came in their way. He would always love her, and she him.

Morrigan made a vow to himself. He would do anything he needed to do to protect her from anything else. She would always be safe. No matter what.

Author's Note

*whew* This one took awhile. Morrigan, ouch, tough feels. Yet, Katrina and He are finally together!
But, for how long?