Author's Note

[Implied gang rape] [m+m+m/f] [Sympathising with Germans] [Potentially error-ridden German dialogue]
Contains: [Aryanne] [Communist ponies]
By: Orlunu

[NSFW] History by Orlunu

“Pah!” the blonde filly spat, “And what would you know about machinery? Stalliongrad has never made anything but trash. Your swords are more like plowshares, hammered roughly into shape like farm equipment. Nobody can meet Germaney’s technical genius! Why don’t you learn some history? That would show you to keep your nose out. Your machines look like they’re broken when they’re brand new.”

She sneered at the brown colt as he stalked away, his hideous equals-sign cutiemark singling him out as a freak; he’d had it for as long as he could remember, as had his parents and all of their kind. The rest of the class would still have years to wait for theirs. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he have stayed in his own filthy country, outside Equestria and where she’d never have had to meet him. Especially since he hated it here. The love for one’s country and one’s people had to be, Aryanne affirmed, foremost in a pony’s mind. Nevertheless, here they were, three colts from Stalliongrad. In her own school. Scum, who disapproved of all that made life good and beautiful.

She turned her attention back to fixing the music box she’d made for her little sister, mind turning with the delicate gears. The beauty of the clockwork turned her mind away from the colt and his insults.

+++++

She bumped into them when she came out of her final lesson that day, all three of them standing shoulder to shoulder. Well, it appeared that way at first, but it soon became apparent that their meeting wasn’t accidental. One of them squared off to her, she couldn’t tell which, as the other two circled around them. The one in front of her snarled menacingly, “So, you think you’re special do you? You think that you’re better than us, with your ice queen looks? You’ve never done an honest day’s work, and it tells.”

Aryanne fought back a slight quiver in her legs. Why was this happening? They were rude to her, and she was rude to them, sure, but that was how it had been for months and she tried to keep as far away from them as possible. Why were they circling her like this? “I don’t want to talk to you. Just go away.”

“Huh. You stand there so arrogantly. What’s so great about you? You think you’re better than us? I bet I could beat you up with one hoof.”

Aryanne froze at the threat. Were they going to attack her? There were so many people around, she was sure they wouldn’t, but the fear was still there. She replied in a monotone, mostly to reassure herself, “Ich mein Volk stolz machen müssen. Ich muss flink wie ein Windhund, zäh wie Leder und hart wie Kruppstahl sein.”

She stared ahead of herself, eyes unfocused, and held herself still as her legs tried to quake. Unable to catch her gaze, the colt snorted and stormed off, his companions in tow.

+++++

“Honey, your friends are here!”

Aryanne trotted out of her room in confusion. None of her friends had said they were coming over. She couldn’t work out which of them it might be. When they came into the corridor, she realised why. It wasn’t any of her friends. It was the three colts from before, wearing old army uniforms. Why had they come to her house? Were they here to apologise? That seemed unlike them, and the uniforms only added to her confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, when we were talking before, you said that I should study some history. Seemed to think that it would teach me my place. So, I thought that we should take a look at some history together.”

“Okaaaay?” Aryanne answered, now more confused than ever.

“I thought that we could start by teaching you something. Teaching you what happened to you beautiful, arrogant blonde mares at the end of the war.”

“What?” She racked her brains, but came up with nothing. Germaney hadn’t even used mares as soldiers, in order to protect them, how could they have been involved?

He grabbed a mouthful of her mane and pulled her off her feet. “Komm, frau,” he hissed through her mane as he dragged her towards her room.

+++++

They looked up from the table. There sure was a lot of banging and crashing coming from their daughter’s room. Just as they looked up, they heard a shriek, “Hilf mir, bitte! Mörder! Vergewal…” The scream cut off with the loudest thump yet.

“What the hell is going on up there?”

“Some of her friends came over. Said that they were going to play war games, they were even dressed up.”

“They sure have a lot of energy for them. They’d better not break anything.”

“Well, it’s good for her to actually play with someone, for once.” With that, they went back to talking about the bills.

Half an hour later, the clamour finally died down, and the three colts filed down, uniforms askew from their rough-housing.

“Did you all have fun?”

A chorus of affirmations came back, backed up by beaming grins. “We all had a great time, but I cut myself a little, so there’s a small splash of blood on your sheets.” The leader’s grin turned slightly sheepish. Aryanne’s father assured him that it was alright, then went up to her room as they left. When he stuck his head in, she was curled up under the blankets. From the heavy sounds of her breathing and how much the covers rose and fell around her, he could tell that she’d fallen asleep already. It was nice to see her getting along with the foreign ponies for once. Maybe she was finally becoming less distrustful of outsiders.