A Winter's Taleby WinterPonyChapters2) Battles Fought and Questions Asked3) Major Changes1) beginnings2) Battles Fought and Questions AskedChapter Two Winter returned to his castle, battling himself. "Why? Why do I like him so much?" Winter muttered to himself. I know I do, though. I can feel it, he thought. He annoyed himself to the point of a migraine, and to Winter that meant time to drink. He called to his usual servant, Silver Smith, who had already made a glass, expecting this to happen. Winter drank himself himself to sleep, each sip suppressing each thought, until all else faded and rest was his only reprieve. He dreamed of a strange darkness. It was all-encompassing, and Winter couldn't escape it. He just kept running from something. When Winter woke up the next morning he was drenched in sweat. He got up, showered off, and decided to engage in one of his favorite activities: fencing. Winter found it was the most effective way to release his stress. As Winter suited up with his jacket, chest place and mask he continued to think of yesterday’s ordeal with Arch Angel. He went over what he decided must be the reasons for liking Arch. His soft voice, those lovely green eyes, the way his mane flowed like fire, Winter thought, but there’s something else. Some aura about him. Winter walked up the narrow strip, sword in hand, and faced his opponent, the captain of the Winter Guards. The referee called for them to begin and the guard lunged forward, which Winter anticipated and parried, shoving his opponent’s blade to the side and striking the captain just above the heart. After a few more bouts, which Winter won two-thirds of, the king smiled and took off his mask. “Another good run, Captain.” The captain removed his own mask “Still not as good as you, your majesty.” They shook hooves and retreated to other sides of the gym. Winter beamed as he disrobed and wiped off his sweat with a towel. The mock sword-fight had indeed relieved some of his recent stress, but the thought of Arch Angel was still nagging in the back of his mind. Winter needed to see him again. He assembled the royal guards. "You are to find and return with a pony named Arch Angel. He is deep purple with an orange mane, and has a gold wing for a cutie mark. I believe he must still be in the kingdom, but check the outskirts too." Winter quickly mapped out the infrastructure of his kingdom in his head, calculating the odds of his guard finding Arch Angel if he hadn't yet left the area. The Ice Kingdom had a few resting stables on its outskirts, but outside of those it was at least a two day walk to the nearest town, and no trains were allowed into the kingdom. He wasn't deterred by his low odds. "Now go!" The royal guards awkwardly took their leave, confused as to why this was of such high importance. Winter waited for news all day. He just kept fantasizing and thinking what he would say when Arch got there. He was still confused, but he at least submitted to the confusion now, instead of fighting it. The guards returned under the cover of Luna’s Night. “We’re sorry, your grace, we could not find him.” “You start your search again at sunrise. And same with the day after and so on, until you find him.” Winter said, motioning for them to leave. He heard nothing for four agonizing days until he heard a familiar voice calling from the throne room door. A very agitated voice. “You bastard! you aren't related to the king, you are the king!” Winter swiveled his head to the door. "Excuse me?!" He replied slightly angered by the rude remark. "Would you mind explaining to me why I was forced out of my sleep and dragged through the cold?" Arch asked, peeved at his treatment. The guards were in no way gentle in their apprehension of him. Winter motioned towards the door so his guards would leave them alone. They left. "I had some questions for you." Arch raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" “What is your business in the Ice Kingdom, so far way from home?” “Why do you want to know?” “You are in my kingdom, and if you value your life you will answer me!” Arch Angel sighed. “I am here to pick up some crops that only grow in the coldest climates. Now do you also want to know why the sky is blue and the grass is green or can I go?” “Did you come here alone?” Arch rolled his eyes impatiently. "Yes, no one else wanted to make the hike from Ponyville." “So you’re just a do-pony? How cute,” Winter scoffed. “I work for myself, you ass.” This was nothing like what Winter had in mind for their conversation, but his kingly instincts wouldn't let him stop. “Did you drag me here just to insult me?” Arch raised. “You know, it seems odd that a stallion like you would travel alone.” “And you don’t seem like a king who will ever have friends, so what?” That blow hurt Winter. “And I’m sure you have a special somepony!” Winter retorted, drawing the conversation to the route he'd intended, not this sarcastic match of wits it had become. "Are you asking if I'm single?" "Yes." Arch was awfully confused, but knowing what the King could do to someone he didn't like, he answered honestly, "Yes." Winter hadn't thought about what to say once he got this far. "I..." Winter had nothing. By this time Arch had caught on. "Sir, if this is going where it feels like-" he paused, "I-I'm straight." Winter quickly switched to defense. “No no NO!” Arch couldn't suppress a laugh. “I like your...spark. I’ll let you stay here for a while if you like.” “No, I really want to leave this frozen wasteland” Winter mumbled. “Go if you want.” And Arch Angel left. *** Winter went back to his room. He was tired of being like this. He was tired of being king. He was tired of fighting battles with himself. Most of all, he was tired of the loneliness. So he made a decision to change that. 3) Major ChangesChapter 3 Winter gazed into his mirror. His whole body trembled with fear and anxiety. No, Winter, you made this decision, no chickening out. He resisted his urge to cry, reminding himself of his mother’s words from when he broke his leg when he was nine. “Royals do not cry. You cannot rule a country if mere pain breaks you down.” For all of Winter’s life he smiled at the tears of others. But now he was using all his effort to not bawl. Winter reflected on the past two weeks. It was like a rollercoaster. He was down as low as he thought possible, and then Arch Angel, this beautiful, amazing stallion raised him up the hill to the top. But Winter found out that once you are at the top of the hill, you fall much much harder and exponentially faster. Reflecting on these events gave Winter the much-needed push to complete his task. Winter took a deep breath. He reminded himself that this couldn’t be reversed. His horn began to glow. A blue wisp of aether slowly seeped out of his horn and enveloped him. Winter watched in the mirror until the mist covered his face and he could see nothing but the cerulean light of the aura. Suddenly a new sensation occurred within him. It felt like fire on his skin but somehow comforting inside of him. The king tried to take a deep breath, but drew it in shallowly. This process seemed to last an eternity to Winter. And abruptly, everything went black. When Winter came to a few hours later, he didn’t feel any different. He looked around. His room was still neat and everything was still where it was. However, he couldn’t remember what had recently happened. Winter looked at the floor below him. Must have gotten a little too drunk again. His head ached and he felt a little woozy so he decided to lay in bed and get a little more rest. He climbed up onto the mattress. Was my bed always this large? And then he remembered. He remembered everything. It hit him like a heavyweight boxer. He slowly got down and approached the mirror. For the first time since he was nine, he cried. The spell worked. Winter was now a mare. “By Celestia!” Winter jumped at her new voice. It was soft and delicate, like a rose. Winter examined her new body thoroughly. Her hooves brushed over her new breasts, the feeling that accompanied it feeling odd and awkward. Through the overall shock at the result her own decision, Winter was moderately pleased. She was at least what most stallions called cute: soft, celeste-blue fur, big violet eyes, a flowing mane of teal, gilded with silver strokes. A new thought occurred to Winter. Getting out. She now realized just how rash her decision was. She never had a plan for if this worked. She never thought about the rest of his life. Her kingdom, her authority, anything. Winter cursed under her breath. She knew is someone found out she would be ruined. Maybe if she found one of the princesses they could fix this. “Okay, Winter, just think. How am I getting out of here.” She cleared her head. Supplies, I need supplies. She grabbed her cloak she used to hide herself from the commoners. The mare became flustered again in the process, and ripped out every article of clothing from her drawer, until she remembered that it was hanging from a brass hook on the wall. Winter threw the cloak on and slowly cracked the door, peering into the hall. It certainly seemed clear. She started sneaking down the hall, trying to stay to the darker shadows and corners. She was almost out when she came to the only exit: the door to the throne room. Why did they build this damn castle with only one door! She didn’t take long to dwell on inefficient architecture because she quickly noticed the guards standing attention at the sole exit. She couldn’t risk them asking questions. If they had been doing their job they would have noticed no one came in. Winter needed more time to think. She turned to retreat to her bedroom. As she hurried away down the hall, she accidentally bumped a table with her flank, knocking over a pot, which in turn smashed into a million pieces with a large CRASH! She heard the guards rushing down the halls just as Winter got to her room and locked the door. She heard the guards running back and forth, up and down the halls for a few minutes and then a knock. “My lord, are you okay?” He heard a voice ask, sounding quite concerned. He recognized as the captain of the guards. “Of course!” Winter called back. Then she realized the major flaw in her answer. Winter’s voice had change during the spell and her response was obviously female. Behind the door the captain, Spear Tip, opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. The captain knew that, while not often, it was also not a rarity for the king to have prostitutes over. He shrugged it off. “I think it was another one of those whores that knocked it over. She must have come in when we were changing the guard at the door.” The captain shouted to the other guard who was down the hall. “We’re good here.” The other guard nodded and the two went back to the throne room. Winter layed on her bed for the next hour until she felt she could try something else. She thought of what she overheard the captain yell. Then it dawned on Winter. All she had to do was “remake” herself into a prostitute and she could get out. Winter knew there was only one place to get the clothing though, and the thought made her heart sink and her stomach flip. When his wife, Blue Sapphire died, Winter kept her closet the exact way she left it. Blue loved fashion and kept her closet coordinated in order of colors, patterns, and a million other things Winter never understood. Now, for the first time in about eight months, Winter opened that closet. Winter once again fought the urge to cry. She quickly skimmed for a red silk dress she remembered Blue wearing on their first date. If I’m going to a prostitute, I might as well be going to be a high-price call mare. It fit perfectly. She also found a pair of heels, tried them on, and nearly broke her leg. She would settle for just a dress and pearl necklace. Winter tip-hooved out of her room. “What’s your game?” Winter jumped higher than ever before. She turned to find Silver Smith the butler standing right behind her. “I’ve been standing in this hall all day and not a single pony has entered those doors, except the king. Who are you? How did you get here?” Winter assessed her current situation. She motioned for Silver to join her in the bedroom. He awkwardly followed her. When the shut Winter began to speak. “It’s me, Winter, and if you can get me out of here I will give you your next five years’ salary today.” Winter hoped throwing money at the situation would work, as it usually did. The servant was dumbfounded. “Did you really? You didn't really just... Please tell me you didn't.” “If you shut up right now I will make it the next ten years’ salary.” That worked. The server nodded, his eyes still wide. Winter angrily grabbed a check from a desk drawer and filled it out for two million bits. “You get this when you get me out the door.” The servant nodded again. Winter went back into Blue’s closet, found a large saddle bag and filled it with as many bits as it could possibly hold. “Now you are going to say I am a prostitute and that you are escorting me out. Do you understand?” Another nod. Winter’s heart beat rapidly as she walked down the halls, escorted by Silver. They came to the guards. “Just escorting this slut out of here,” Silver said with a slight chuckle in his voice. If Winter hadn’t need Silver’s help, she would have killed him. But what Silver said seemed to work and Winter made it out without so much as a glance. Now Winter had a bigger challenge to face: life 1) beginningsAuthor's Note A rewrite of the world's worst fan fiction! Now we have character development! A few things to consider: This is sad, but not a grimfic This has love but it's not a clopfic This story contains gay love, so deal I am new so please give good criticism but don't be mean Enjoy! 1) beginnings A Winter’s Tale WinterPony Chapter one: beginnings “A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn't mean in winter.” ― Patricia Briggs "Why are the words goodbye, I'm sorry, and I Love You so easily pronounced but so hard to say?" -Anonymous Winter hated being a king. It was boring. It was monotonous. It was tiring. But there was nothing he could do about it. His mother, Soft Tear and his father, Snow Fall had given up the throne when Winter was young and now lived on a leisure island in the south. He hated to admit it, but it was hard for Winter to like his own kingdom. The Ice Kingdom. Every day King Winter Chill sat slouched on his icy throne. This day was no exception: it was quite an (if not more than) average day. He signed grants for land or bits and oversaw diplomatic meetings. The Ice Kingdom, he felt, had fallen into a simple, repetitive pace. Winter decided today's work was done and trotted to his chamber, hooves clicking on icy marble. He called to a butler for wine and relaxed himself on his bed. The servant rolled his eyes as he fulfilled his masters request, muttering “drunk before nightfall again.” Winter was not a compatriot to his workers, constantly referring to them as slaves, as he threw bottles at them in drunken rage. Winter felt the loneliness that so often plagued him, leading him to drink and be rash. He used to have a wife named Blue Sapphire, and he still remembers the scent of her perfume that would overcome him as they kissed. They even a child named Gilded Lotus. He remembers holding them both in his arms. But a sickness took both of them from him, two deaths within the same week. That was about two years ago. It killed him and he mourned constantly, the walls of the castle acting as a never-ending reminder of the loss. He knew he should move on. The wine came, and Winter gorged himself on alcohol. Glass after glass being tilted back and emptied. He drank to forget, but that was pointless. The more he drank the more he thought of what was missing, the thought of Blue And Lotus festering in his head, making him drink even more. Winter sighed as the last of the day’s bottle slithered down his throat. And with the thought of his family’s death on his mind he drifted off to saddened slumber. He had nightmares, flashing back to the day of their deaths. His heart once again recollected of the loss, as he watched helplessly as his daughter's chest rose and fell for the last time. He never woke in the night from these nightmares as if cursed to relive every agonizing second, his mind telling him “you terrible husband, you horrid father.” The next day was the same, as was the one after that: wake up, do your job, drink yourself to sleep. Winter needed a break from the tedium of the castle. Winter decided he needed to go for a walk. He dressed in a hooded cloak, hiding his face from the commoners. The last thing he wanted was a hundred ponies begging his request. He took a stroll through the marketplace. It was full of vendors selling apples or carrots or whatnot. Everywhere, ponies unknowingly bustled around Winter and he couldn’t help but smirk at the ignorance of his people. He observed the market closely, keeping an eye on his state. Overall, the Ice Kingdom was full of happy ponies without many issues. Poverty was always low and most ponies were employed. Winter was just starting to examine a cart of frost apples, or rather check if the pricing was fair (Winter hated those who took the economy for granted), when something drew his eyes away from the loaded buggy. A stallion, bright purple with a fiery orange mane, passed by. "Wow," Winter said under his breath, although he wasn’t sure why he said it. The purple stallion stood out from the Ice Ponies who were shades of light blue and silvery-grey. He has to be a foreigner, Winter thought, feeling a strange attraction to the stallion. It confused the King, who always had labeled himself straight. He continued to watch the stallion. The mysterious pony, a pegasus, bought some frost apples and a few other items before trotting away. Suddenly, Winter found himself galloping after the pony. He didn't understand why, but he was just overcome by this urge to know this stallion. Winter wanted the stallion, needed the stallion. And abruptly, he crashed into the stallion, who had stopped at a busy square with a surplus of hoof traffic. "S-sorry. I was just..." Winter's voice trailed off. "No no, it's fine," said the stallion, "You seem in quite the hurry." "No, I-," Winter, a normally witty pony, couldn't think of an excuse, "I'm just looking around. I didn’t mean to bump into you." "Well, slow down,” the stallion’s voice was light. It reminded Winter of his late wife Blue. “Hard to enjoy the sights when you're moving so quick," the mysterious pegasus said with a slight chuckle. "Name's Arch Angel. Yours?" "Winter," he said without thinking. "Like the King?" Arch Angel asked. "Are you related?" "N-no relation," Winter lied. "Uhm… it’s nice to meet you." "Same," Arch Angel replied. Winter smiled. “You aren’t from around here are you?” “No, I’m from Ponyville.” “Well maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” Winter suggested. “Maybe.” They nodded goodbyes to each other and Winter watched Arch Angel's flank as he galloped away. The rhythmic motion is all Winter would ever need. He would make sure it wasn’t a maybe!
2) Battles Fought and Questions AskedChapter Two Winter returned to his castle, battling himself. "Why? Why do I like him so much?" Winter muttered to himself. I know I do, though. I can feel it, he thought. He annoyed himself to the point of a migraine, and to Winter that meant time to drink. He called to his usual servant, Silver Smith, who had already made a glass, expecting this to happen. Winter drank himself himself to sleep, each sip suppressing each thought, until all else faded and rest was his only reprieve. He dreamed of a strange darkness. It was all-encompassing, and Winter couldn't escape it. He just kept running from something. When Winter woke up the next morning he was drenched in sweat. He got up, showered off, and decided to engage in one of his favorite activities: fencing. Winter found it was the most effective way to release his stress. As Winter suited up with his jacket, chest place and mask he continued to think of yesterday’s ordeal with Arch Angel. He went over what he decided must be the reasons for liking Arch. His soft voice, those lovely green eyes, the way his mane flowed like fire, Winter thought, but there’s something else. Some aura about him. Winter walked up the narrow strip, sword in hand, and faced his opponent, the captain of the Winter Guards. The referee called for them to begin and the guard lunged forward, which Winter anticipated and parried, shoving his opponent’s blade to the side and striking the captain just above the heart. After a few more bouts, which Winter won two-thirds of, the king smiled and took off his mask. “Another good run, Captain.” The captain removed his own mask “Still not as good as you, your majesty.” They shook hooves and retreated to other sides of the gym. Winter beamed as he disrobed and wiped off his sweat with a towel. The mock sword-fight had indeed relieved some of his recent stress, but the thought of Arch Angel was still nagging in the back of his mind. Winter needed to see him again. He assembled the royal guards. "You are to find and return with a pony named Arch Angel. He is deep purple with an orange mane, and has a gold wing for a cutie mark. I believe he must still be in the kingdom, but check the outskirts too." Winter quickly mapped out the infrastructure of his kingdom in his head, calculating the odds of his guard finding Arch Angel if he hadn't yet left the area. The Ice Kingdom had a few resting stables on its outskirts, but outside of those it was at least a two day walk to the nearest town, and no trains were allowed into the kingdom. He wasn't deterred by his low odds. "Now go!" The royal guards awkwardly took their leave, confused as to why this was of such high importance. Winter waited for news all day. He just kept fantasizing and thinking what he would say when Arch got there. He was still confused, but he at least submitted to the confusion now, instead of fighting it. The guards returned under the cover of Luna’s Night. “We’re sorry, your grace, we could not find him.” “You start your search again at sunrise. And same with the day after and so on, until you find him.” Winter said, motioning for them to leave. He heard nothing for four agonizing days until he heard a familiar voice calling from the throne room door. A very agitated voice. “You bastard! you aren't related to the king, you are the king!” Winter swiveled his head to the door. "Excuse me?!" He replied slightly angered by the rude remark. "Would you mind explaining to me why I was forced out of my sleep and dragged through the cold?" Arch asked, peeved at his treatment. The guards were in no way gentle in their apprehension of him. Winter motioned towards the door so his guards would leave them alone. They left. "I had some questions for you." Arch raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" “What is your business in the Ice Kingdom, so far way from home?” “Why do you want to know?” “You are in my kingdom, and if you value your life you will answer me!” Arch Angel sighed. “I am here to pick up some crops that only grow in the coldest climates. Now do you also want to know why the sky is blue and the grass is green or can I go?” “Did you come here alone?” Arch rolled his eyes impatiently. "Yes, no one else wanted to make the hike from Ponyville." “So you’re just a do-pony? How cute,” Winter scoffed. “I work for myself, you ass.” This was nothing like what Winter had in mind for their conversation, but his kingly instincts wouldn't let him stop. “Did you drag me here just to insult me?” Arch raised. “You know, it seems odd that a stallion like you would travel alone.” “And you don’t seem like a king who will ever have friends, so what?” That blow hurt Winter. “And I’m sure you have a special somepony!” Winter retorted, drawing the conversation to the route he'd intended, not this sarcastic match of wits it had become. "Are you asking if I'm single?" "Yes." Arch was awfully confused, but knowing what the King could do to someone he didn't like, he answered honestly, "Yes." Winter hadn't thought about what to say once he got this far. "I..." Winter had nothing. By this time Arch had caught on. "Sir, if this is going where it feels like-" he paused, "I-I'm straight." Winter quickly switched to defense. “No no NO!” Arch couldn't suppress a laugh. “I like your...spark. I’ll let you stay here for a while if you like.” “No, I really want to leave this frozen wasteland” Winter mumbled. “Go if you want.” And Arch Angel left. *** Winter went back to his room. He was tired of being like this. He was tired of being king. He was tired of fighting battles with himself. Most of all, he was tired of the loneliness. So he made a decision to change that.
3) Major ChangesChapter 3 Winter gazed into his mirror. His whole body trembled with fear and anxiety. No, Winter, you made this decision, no chickening out. He resisted his urge to cry, reminding himself of his mother’s words from when he broke his leg when he was nine. “Royals do not cry. You cannot rule a country if mere pain breaks you down.” For all of Winter’s life he smiled at the tears of others. But now he was using all his effort to not bawl. Winter reflected on the past two weeks. It was like a rollercoaster. He was down as low as he thought possible, and then Arch Angel, this beautiful, amazing stallion raised him up the hill to the top. But Winter found out that once you are at the top of the hill, you fall much much harder and exponentially faster. Reflecting on these events gave Winter the much-needed push to complete his task. Winter took a deep breath. He reminded himself that this couldn’t be reversed. His horn began to glow. A blue wisp of aether slowly seeped out of his horn and enveloped him. Winter watched in the mirror until the mist covered his face and he could see nothing but the cerulean light of the aura. Suddenly a new sensation occurred within him. It felt like fire on his skin but somehow comforting inside of him. The king tried to take a deep breath, but drew it in shallowly. This process seemed to last an eternity to Winter. And abruptly, everything went black. When Winter came to a few hours later, he didn’t feel any different. He looked around. His room was still neat and everything was still where it was. However, he couldn’t remember what had recently happened. Winter looked at the floor below him. Must have gotten a little too drunk again. His head ached and he felt a little woozy so he decided to lay in bed and get a little more rest. He climbed up onto the mattress. Was my bed always this large? And then he remembered. He remembered everything. It hit him like a heavyweight boxer. He slowly got down and approached the mirror. For the first time since he was nine, he cried. The spell worked. Winter was now a mare. “By Celestia!” Winter jumped at her new voice. It was soft and delicate, like a rose. Winter examined her new body thoroughly. Her hooves brushed over her new breasts, the feeling that accompanied it feeling odd and awkward. Through the overall shock at the result her own decision, Winter was moderately pleased. She was at least what most stallions called cute: soft, celeste-blue fur, big violet eyes, a flowing mane of teal, gilded with silver strokes. A new thought occurred to Winter. Getting out. She now realized just how rash her decision was. She never had a plan for if this worked. She never thought about the rest of his life. Her kingdom, her authority, anything. Winter cursed under her breath. She knew is someone found out she would be ruined. Maybe if she found one of the princesses they could fix this. “Okay, Winter, just think. How am I getting out of here.” She cleared her head. Supplies, I need supplies. She grabbed her cloak she used to hide herself from the commoners. The mare became flustered again in the process, and ripped out every article of clothing from her drawer, until she remembered that it was hanging from a brass hook on the wall. Winter threw the cloak on and slowly cracked the door, peering into the hall. It certainly seemed clear. She started sneaking down the hall, trying to stay to the darker shadows and corners. She was almost out when she came to the only exit: the door to the throne room. Why did they build this damn castle with only one door! She didn’t take long to dwell on inefficient architecture because she quickly noticed the guards standing attention at the sole exit. She couldn’t risk them asking questions. If they had been doing their job they would have noticed no one came in. Winter needed more time to think. She turned to retreat to her bedroom. As she hurried away down the hall, she accidentally bumped a table with her flank, knocking over a pot, which in turn smashed into a million pieces with a large CRASH! She heard the guards rushing down the halls just as Winter got to her room and locked the door. She heard the guards running back and forth, up and down the halls for a few minutes and then a knock. “My lord, are you okay?” He heard a voice ask, sounding quite concerned. He recognized as the captain of the guards. “Of course!” Winter called back. Then she realized the major flaw in her answer. Winter’s voice had change during the spell and her response was obviously female. Behind the door the captain, Spear Tip, opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. The captain knew that, while not often, it was also not a rarity for the king to have prostitutes over. He shrugged it off. “I think it was another one of those whores that knocked it over. She must have come in when we were changing the guard at the door.” The captain shouted to the other guard who was down the hall. “We’re good here.” The other guard nodded and the two went back to the throne room. Winter layed on her bed for the next hour until she felt she could try something else. She thought of what she overheard the captain yell. Then it dawned on Winter. All she had to do was “remake” herself into a prostitute and she could get out. Winter knew there was only one place to get the clothing though, and the thought made her heart sink and her stomach flip. When his wife, Blue Sapphire died, Winter kept her closet the exact way she left it. Blue loved fashion and kept her closet coordinated in order of colors, patterns, and a million other things Winter never understood. Now, for the first time in about eight months, Winter opened that closet. Winter once again fought the urge to cry. She quickly skimmed for a red silk dress she remembered Blue wearing on their first date. If I’m going to a prostitute, I might as well be going to be a high-price call mare. It fit perfectly. She also found a pair of heels, tried them on, and nearly broke her leg. She would settle for just a dress and pearl necklace. Winter tip-hooved out of her room. “What’s your game?” Winter jumped higher than ever before. She turned to find Silver Smith the butler standing right behind her. “I’ve been standing in this hall all day and not a single pony has entered those doors, except the king. Who are you? How did you get here?” Winter assessed her current situation. She motioned for Silver to join her in the bedroom. He awkwardly followed her. When the shut Winter began to speak. “It’s me, Winter, and if you can get me out of here I will give you your next five years’ salary today.” Winter hoped throwing money at the situation would work, as it usually did. The servant was dumbfounded. “Did you really? You didn't really just... Please tell me you didn't.” “If you shut up right now I will make it the next ten years’ salary.” That worked. The server nodded, his eyes still wide. Winter angrily grabbed a check from a desk drawer and filled it out for two million bits. “You get this when you get me out the door.” The servant nodded again. Winter went back into Blue’s closet, found a large saddle bag and filled it with as many bits as it could possibly hold. “Now you are going to say I am a prostitute and that you are escorting me out. Do you understand?” Another nod. Winter’s heart beat rapidly as she walked down the halls, escorted by Silver. They came to the guards. “Just escorting this slut out of here,” Silver said with a slight chuckle in his voice. If Winter hadn’t need Silver’s help, she would have killed him. But what Silver said seemed to work and Winter made it out without so much as a glance. Now Winter had a bigger challenge to face: life
1) beginningsAuthor's Note A rewrite of the world's worst fan fiction! Now we have character development! A few things to consider: This is sad, but not a grimfic This has love but it's not a clopfic This story contains gay love, so deal I am new so please give good criticism but don't be mean Enjoy! 1) beginnings A Winter’s Tale WinterPony Chapter one: beginnings “A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn't mean in winter.” ― Patricia Briggs "Why are the words goodbye, I'm sorry, and I Love You so easily pronounced but so hard to say?" -Anonymous Winter hated being a king. It was boring. It was monotonous. It was tiring. But there was nothing he could do about it. His mother, Soft Tear and his father, Snow Fall had given up the throne when Winter was young and now lived on a leisure island in the south. He hated to admit it, but it was hard for Winter to like his own kingdom. The Ice Kingdom. Every day King Winter Chill sat slouched on his icy throne. This day was no exception: it was quite an (if not more than) average day. He signed grants for land or bits and oversaw diplomatic meetings. The Ice Kingdom, he felt, had fallen into a simple, repetitive pace. Winter decided today's work was done and trotted to his chamber, hooves clicking on icy marble. He called to a butler for wine and relaxed himself on his bed. The servant rolled his eyes as he fulfilled his masters request, muttering “drunk before nightfall again.” Winter was not a compatriot to his workers, constantly referring to them as slaves, as he threw bottles at them in drunken rage. Winter felt the loneliness that so often plagued him, leading him to drink and be rash. He used to have a wife named Blue Sapphire, and he still remembers the scent of her perfume that would overcome him as they kissed. They even a child named Gilded Lotus. He remembers holding them both in his arms. But a sickness took both of them from him, two deaths within the same week. That was about two years ago. It killed him and he mourned constantly, the walls of the castle acting as a never-ending reminder of the loss. He knew he should move on. The wine came, and Winter gorged himself on alcohol. Glass after glass being tilted back and emptied. He drank to forget, but that was pointless. The more he drank the more he thought of what was missing, the thought of Blue And Lotus festering in his head, making him drink even more. Winter sighed as the last of the day’s bottle slithered down his throat. And with the thought of his family’s death on his mind he drifted off to saddened slumber. He had nightmares, flashing back to the day of their deaths. His heart once again recollected of the loss, as he watched helplessly as his daughter's chest rose and fell for the last time. He never woke in the night from these nightmares as if cursed to relive every agonizing second, his mind telling him “you terrible husband, you horrid father.” The next day was the same, as was the one after that: wake up, do your job, drink yourself to sleep. Winter needed a break from the tedium of the castle. Winter decided he needed to go for a walk. He dressed in a hooded cloak, hiding his face from the commoners. The last thing he wanted was a hundred ponies begging his request. He took a stroll through the marketplace. It was full of vendors selling apples or carrots or whatnot. Everywhere, ponies unknowingly bustled around Winter and he couldn’t help but smirk at the ignorance of his people. He observed the market closely, keeping an eye on his state. Overall, the Ice Kingdom was full of happy ponies without many issues. Poverty was always low and most ponies were employed. Winter was just starting to examine a cart of frost apples, or rather check if the pricing was fair (Winter hated those who took the economy for granted), when something drew his eyes away from the loaded buggy. A stallion, bright purple with a fiery orange mane, passed by. "Wow," Winter said under his breath, although he wasn’t sure why he said it. The purple stallion stood out from the Ice Ponies who were shades of light blue and silvery-grey. He has to be a foreigner, Winter thought, feeling a strange attraction to the stallion. It confused the King, who always had labeled himself straight. He continued to watch the stallion. The mysterious pony, a pegasus, bought some frost apples and a few other items before trotting away. Suddenly, Winter found himself galloping after the pony. He didn't understand why, but he was just overcome by this urge to know this stallion. Winter wanted the stallion, needed the stallion. And abruptly, he crashed into the stallion, who had stopped at a busy square with a surplus of hoof traffic. "S-sorry. I was just..." Winter's voice trailed off. "No no, it's fine," said the stallion, "You seem in quite the hurry." "No, I-," Winter, a normally witty pony, couldn't think of an excuse, "I'm just looking around. I didn’t mean to bump into you." "Well, slow down,” the stallion’s voice was light. It reminded Winter of his late wife Blue. “Hard to enjoy the sights when you're moving so quick," the mysterious pegasus said with a slight chuckle. "Name's Arch Angel. Yours?" "Winter," he said without thinking. "Like the King?" Arch Angel asked. "Are you related?" "N-no relation," Winter lied. "Uhm… it’s nice to meet you." "Same," Arch Angel replied. Winter smiled. “You aren’t from around here are you?” “No, I’m from Ponyville.” “Well maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” Winter suggested. “Maybe.” They nodded goodbyes to each other and Winter watched Arch Angel's flank as he galloped away. The rhythmic motion is all Winter would ever need. He would make sure it wasn’t a maybe!
