Dead Flowers

by Hyacintho Ignis

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Dark, Tragedy
Length: 2178

The death of a close one forces a stallion to take a stand

If you lost a lifelong friend, how would you react to the situation if that friend died in your grip? If you had to face their family, knowing exactly what happened, how would you do it? If you came to a decision, and knew that following through with it would mean death, even if it meant you could cry out to someone about your pain, would you go through with it?

This stallion knows his answer to those questions.

Rated Teen for swearing and graphic scene(s).

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-19 13:46:23 UTC

A Meeting And A Song

A gentle breeze disturbed the air as it made its way across the valley, whispering quietly to the thousands of dead buried in neat rows at the base of Mt Canterlot. As it flowed between the trees, the breeze agitated the branches and their poetic dancing began, drawing forth a rustling of greenery and fallen leaves as they skipped down the path towards the cemetery. The once loose dirt compacted by tens of thousands of hooves marked a trail through the wood, guiding a lone stallion surrounded by the dancing forest to his destination.

His coat was marked with the white of the Royal Guard and his armor affirmed that he was a soldier in an army of look-a-likes. He was an Earth Pony of medium stature, strong but not overpowering, confident but not overbearing. He held a bouquet of dead flowers in his mouth, the bitter taste of rotted plant scoured his tongue but he paid it no mind. The moonlight shone down through the treetops, lighting up the landscape as the path came to an end and the stallion stood before a steel gate gilded with streams of gold and mithril.

Of the two doors that made up the gate, the right hand side was ajar slightly, showing that someone had recently entered the cemetery. The stallion entered through the gap, pushing lightly with his back leg to close it and the gilded steel swung weightlessly on its hinges without a sound to rest beside its mirror image.

Moonlight guided his steps through the seemingly endless rows of the dead as he searched for one amongst the many. Time seemed slowed with the gate gradually disappearing from sight as the stallion walked over the rise whose pinnacle most likely lay in the centre of the cemetery. A depressing thought came to him and he wondered how many must lay buried beneath his hooves, for this had once been flat land covered by dense forest at the base of Equestria’s signature landmark.

His destination close at hoof, he noticed two ponies standing before a headstone, the same one he was heading to. Closing the gap, he recognised them as a mare and her colt, his eyes widening at the sight of the colt’s shimmering coat. As they started walking toward him, there was no doubt in the stallion’s mind as to who they were; Carefree Shield and Golden Shield, family to his late friend.

They stopped within reaching distance of each other, the moonlight marking their place with a circle amongst the dark. The stallion removed the flowers from his mouth with a hoof, taking care not to crush them as he noted the faces before him.

Carefree’s eyes were haunted and hollow, dark lines and tear stains marking her face. Her demeanor was no longer that of a happily married mare who lived each day with a smile and infectious enthusiasm, but that of a widow who had been broken by life and left with nothing but tattered pieces of a single half. Her orange coat had lost its shine, as though the curling of her mouth had been what brought life to it. Her mane hung limp and her tail drooped low, the normal primp and preen she would give them gone.

Numbed to outside influence, Carefree felt nothing but grief and anguish at her husband’s death, ignoring the silent cries of the foal beside her.

Golden’s eyes were resolute, though his face carried the same stains as his mothers. His energetic and playful attitude were gone, replaced by an unwavering seriousness that showed on his face. His attitude now spoke of a resolution to continue living in spite of the crisis that had befallen their family. His signature golden coat shimmered in the moonlight while his sky blue mane and tail reminded the stallion of the foal’s father, bringing tears to the stallion’s eyes.

Together they stood, silence reigning over the carefully crafted night, but none present saw the beauty in it. They each remembered the dead, sharing a different bond to the passed. Finally, Golden spoke up, his voice one of happiness and sadness intermixed.

“... Uncle, do you miss father as much as we do?” Those words were enough to crack the stallion’s composure and two tears came forth, tracking their way to his chin. Even though he didn’t share Golden’s bloodline, the little one still saw him as a relative.

‘Uncle… well, spending every day with his father, I guess the little tyke would think that. It’d be just like you to tell him that kind of thing too. Gleam… I’ll take care of your family for you, like I you promised I would... you damn son of a bitch...’ He scrunched his jaw at the thought and looked down at Golden, forcing a smile even though he felt nothing resembling happiness and he spoke, each word nearly catching in his throat. “You can be sure I miss your dad like nothing else. But I think your mother would be the one who’s missing the old fellow more than anyone. After all, they fell in love while at school and it seems like it’s been hardest on her. Say… how about you go give these flowers to your dad, I’d like a quiet word with your mom.”

The stallion held up the bouquet and Golden nodded, picking it up in his white aura. He wandered off towards the headstone and the stallion moved beside Carefree, putting a hoof to her shoulder. Regret filled him as he watched her recoil from his touch but pushing gently, the stallion guided her a short distance away so they could speak properly without being heard.

Even with Golden a respectable distance away at his father’s grave, the stallion still softened his voice as he spoke to Carefree who had eyes only for the ground.

“Care, I…” She shifted slightly, but gave no other indication she’d heard him. “... I don’t know what I can say to you that wouldn’t sound shallow or pointless, but you can’t keep going like this. No-one’s seen you for a week and Golden wouldn’t tell me anything of you. Hell, he’s been walking to and from school as though his father was hale and hearty waiting for him at home, and I can see how it breaks him inside every time. You need to wake up Carefree, you’re only hurting Golden and yourself more with this.”

Carefree looked up and the stallion recoiled as the deadened look in her eyes was lit with a fire fueled by anger, slowly getting brighter and brighter. “Sharpe… how  dare you speak like that when you could have saved him. You and Gleaming were inseparable as friends, joining the Guard together and you both promised to defend each other. All you had to do was take what killed my husband! All you had to do was die instead of my beloved!

Carefree’s words stung like a whip and Sharpe couldn’t hold back his own emotions. “He saved me! I was the one who was supposed to die right there along with the thousands of other soldiers! I didn’t make the choice, Gleaming did! If I could go back and change what happened, I would have saved us both, but I-!”

“You what!? You’re sorry it happened! You wish you could go back and change what happened!?” Carefree’s anger was blazing now, and she ground a hoof into the ground. “So do I Sharpe, so do I! You cannot possibly understand how it feels to pledge your love to someone for as long as you live and then have that special someone ripped out of your life with a simple letter of mobilisation!”

“I’m trying to pick up the pieces here and now Care, why ca-” Sharpe tried to get a word in, but Carefree continued, fueled by a passionate anger. “I don’t care what you could do now! I care about what you didn’t do that day when Gleaming was forced to save you at the cost of himself! If you hadn’t frozen, you could have moved away and saved both yourself and my husband! That was it, and my family could be whole and Golden wouldn’t have to suffer like this without a fa-!”

Sharpe slapped Carefree, just hard enough to stop her words and she blinked in surprise. “Care… Golden isn’t the one suffering the most from this. It’s you who can’t get over Gleaming’s death, and it is you who is causing more suffering to your son with this pitiful display. He is acting strong for you, as if his father’s death didn’t phase one bit, but under that resolution is a scared foal who wants his mother to hold him and whisper reassurances in his ear and keep him safe. Can you give that to him Carefree?”

The anger slowly disappeared from Carefree’s eyes and her head dropped again. “I… I don’t know. It’s so hard not having Gleam by my side, waking me up with a snuggle every morning and going to sleep with me in his hooves. My bed is cold at night, and I can’t face that empty space. … Do you think they’ll show him in the murals of Canterlot’s remembrance walk? I can’t stand him being known as just another dead soldier, after everything he’s done to only be given the pittance of just another Guard.”

Golden had placed the flowers at Gleaming’s headstone and had wandered over to Sharpe and Carefree after hearing them shout at each other. “Mommy, what’s wrong? Is it because daddy isn’t coming home? But Uncle’s here too, so things will be alright, won’t they mommy?”

Carefree wanted to cry more at the worried tone that Golden spoke with, but her tears had dried up days ago. She embraced Golden with a hoof and bent down to nuzzle him. “Yes, I’m sure things will be alright Golden. We’ll get through this somehow… I’m sorry about putting you through this and worrying you. Let’s go home now, and we’ll have some of your favourite ice cream.”

Carefree and Golden started their walk back to the gate, taking a few steps before Carefree turned back to Sharpe. “Sharpe, thank you for being with my husband and getting him home. Would you sing for him, as I cannot?”

Sharpe couldn’t reply with words as a lump stuck in his throat so he merely nodded. Carefree smiled, taking Golden between her legs as they began walking away once again. Sharpe turned back and finished his long trek from Canterlot to Gleaming’s grave, his throat growing tighter with every step.

Stopping at the headstone, he scooped out a small hole in the dirt. Crushing the dead bouquet Golden had taken from him earlier and placed here, Sharpe buried it in the earth. Looking up, he read the words inscribed on the headstone, and like the last time, tears sprung into his eyes.

Here lies Private Gleaming Shield

Brave Warrior and Defender of Equestria

Husband to Carefree Shield

Father to Golden Shield

Brother to Sharpe Loyale

May he forever rest in peace

As he faced the grave of his brother, the wind grew stronger, bringing leaves from the nearby forest with its movements. The soundings of nature gave a dull backdrop for the words that Sharpe sang to the heavens.

I feel ashamed

With abandon in my heart and on my face

I suffered the blame

I would share this world with you

But I was too late

When the sorrow destroys them

I will replace them

For you

Dead flowers for the torn apart

Laid at the grave to mend the broken hearts

Let the rain fall ‘til it floods

And then the sun shall breathe life once more

Reborn

I wish you the same

To walk beside me carrying the flame

To see you again

With a radiating pure and holy name

When the sorrow, it breaks them

I will replace them

For you

Dead flowers for the torn apart

Laid at the grave to mend the broken hearts

Let the rain fall ‘til it floods

And then the sun shall breathe life once more

Reborn

Dead flowers for the torn apart

Laid at the grave to mend the broken hearts

Let the rain fall ‘til it floods

And then the sun shall breathe life once more

Reborn

Dead flowers for the torn apart...

Dead flowers for the torn apart...

Dead flowers for the torn apart…

Sharpe’s face was adorned with tears that glistened in the moonlight as he choked on the final words. The wind died down to nothing and time seemed to freeze for that picturesque moment of a lone stallion standing in the moonlight on a mound of death with nary a light to brighten anything else but Sharpe and his brother’s grave.

Walking around to the back, he sat down, resting against the cold stone. The words came unbidden to his tongue, for he knew the promise he and Gleaming shared. “I got your back…