Der Metzger Herr Messer

I sat in the holding room.

I continued to sit in the holding room.

I grew bored sitting in the holding room.

I started to mouth the lyrics to my region's anthem. The noiseless song made the waiting slightly less painful.

The air was warm, the rainy days kept outside despite the noise while I was moved. I tapped my fingers on the table, still waiting for some sort of news or movement.

I scratched my brow, straightening them out and brushing off a few stray hairs. I ran my tongue over my teeth and felt something stick out.

I looked down at the shattered end of the table. I picked at the frayed wood and plucked a sharp splinter. I picked at my teeth and managed to get the knot out. I spat it into the corner of the room and tossed the splinter away. I let out a long sigh and laid down across the table.

I let out a long breath and thought back to the routes my life could have taken. Nazism, depression, revenge. I could have found each of my old companions and shown them what years of repressed rage and indignation breed. I could have become a rail of a man, torn and beaten. I could have lead the charge with my banner in hand and forged a new nation of purity and honor.

Or, I could be a giant man with a tiny pony girlfriend. I could be close to forty, living in a land of rainbows. I could be a butcher, I could be a giant, I could be a father, I could be a husband, I could be so many things still. I let out a long sigh.

But above all other things, I was an Aryan, I was a mute, and I was tired.

I missed my voice. I missed laughing. I resented the fact that no matter how much I wanted to hold and sing to the blonde mare who had stalked my shop and followed me, I never could.

I sighed heavily and thought of home. If I got out of here soon, I would paint my mare blue and white and take her back home. I knew not why the idea appealed to me, but seeing my flag patterned on the young mare made me smile. I shifted my head to the other side of the room.

I felt a frown dig into my face. I wanted so many thing, but I had to decide what was important. And with the quiet and the wait, it seemed a good time.

To work.

To raise.

To live in peace.

To be happy.

I felt a heavy feeling dig into my right shoulder. I tapped my fingers on the table and debated the option. I knew her modestly. I'd taken her once. What good would the word do?

What good would it be to claim something I may regret.

I was thirty eight. I was alone. I had a tiny home. I had money. I laid my head face down on the table. I had a mare, but only in name, not promise.

I grabbed my note pad and wrote something down. I finished drawing out the highly detailed letters and held the note up in the air with my head down.

The door creaked open and Aryanne's voice poked in. "Messer?" She walked over to me and poked my arm. "Messer?Lukas?"

I shifted my hand down towards her with the note. She nipped it away and stepped back. "What? What is-" A sharp gasp filled the air. "...A little forward...."

I shrugged, my face still planted on the table.

I felt something touch my shoulder. "One day, maybe." I listened close and heard her voice catch in her throat. "One day, probably."

I turned my head to look at her. She was smiling gently. She smirked and looked away. "Soon, most likely." She grew a bit pink when her eyes shifted back to me. "...I'm sorry." She turned to face me again. "But why?" She sat down and looked at me level. "I've not been a very good pony...."

Two months of on and off harassing, one night, the lingering, the talking. She was not lying about her kindness. I shook my head slightly.

Aryanne cocked her head. "I don't understand why you'd ask me of all ponies...."

I cleared my throat. I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and held it. I opened my mouth to talk.

"Oh! Here!" Aryanne cut me off and placed a nubby pen before me. "Try."

I picked up the pen and sat upright. I looked it over and pressed a button. It started to buzz and I realized what it was. I cringed hard and pressed it against my chin.

I took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm tired--of being alo--" It felt robotic and fake, but it carried my meaning extremely well.

Aryanne cringed and flinched away. "Messer?"

I looked at the box and set it on the table. I turned to her and swung my legs around to face her. I reached down and kissed her forehead. I ducked down out of the chair and hugged her. I squeezed her gently and rubbed her side. I ran my thumb up and down her back with my fingers sliding over her ribs. She sat there, unmoving.

I pulled back quickly and sat back in my seat.

Aryanne coughed roughly. "I don't think I'll be what you expected.... But I can't really say no." She put her hooves on my leg and hopped up. She sat on my lap and leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. "Sudden...it feels...I'm worried." She rubbed her cheek against the side of my head. "Anxious perhaps. What will change?"

I shook my head and rubbed her side.

"Nothing?"

I nodded.

Aryanne sighed slightly. "Maybe a little? Maybe good things?"

I nodded again.

Aryanne sighed and leaned forward into my shoulder. "Okay...we see where it goes." She sighed and went slack against me. "They say you have a room in the castle until the trial...."

I wrapped my hand around her side and hugged her against me.

"Do you want me to show you the way?"

I nodded and stood up. I cradled the mare over my shoulder. It was mine, and it came with such a warm feeling I had to focus to keep from tearing up. One thing done, perhaps the least pressing, but the most enjoyable. If I died tomorrow, if I was sent to prison, I could always say I was not alone forever.

I carried the mare out into the hall. Two guards were waiting for me. They seemed eased by the mare in my arms. One with a red patch on his uniform nodded to me. "House arrest unti--"

I nodded.

The guard nodded. "We'll es--"

I nodded again.

The guard flinched. "Oh...okay." He scratched his head. The other guard whispered something into the patch guard's ear. "Oh.... He says thank you."

I looked to the second guard. He looked absolutely stoic. He nodded at me and reached back towards his jacket pocket. He pulled out a black sticker and held it between his teeth. He spat it onto the ground and dug his hoof into it before ripping it back. "My sitstre ysas htkna you."

The guard with the patch looked up at me. "His sister say--"

I nodded.

The guard with the red patch nodded again. "Okay."