Der Liebhaber

by The Mechanical Artist

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Random, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 1328

In the heat of WWII, Nazi General Rarity assumes that nothing in the world could ever break her steel cold soul. That is, until she meets the american POW #43, known more commonly as Fluttershy.

Fluttershy once again changes a heart for the better. The cold heart of Rarity. A story of how a relationship builds from two individuals built to hate each other, and what happens when they try to find freedom in each other.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-31 07:40:49 UTC

Dass große gelbe Pferd, Fluttershy

"Rarität meiner allgemeinen, haben wir ein weiteres der amecican Ratten gefunden!" Croaked the voice of the Kommodore from the interrogation room, sending tiny shivers of anger down the troubled General's spine.

This again. Rarity sighed and put down her paper work. Yet another prisoner of war. She still couldn't understand why they insisted on bringing these pathetic worms into the camp just to knock information out of their treacherous heads. As she frequently reminded her superiors, shooting was a much quicker and easier way of dealing with them, much more entertaining too.

She slammed her hoof down on the table and yelled into the other room. "Bringen Sie sie in, und nicht Sie wagen stört mich heute wieder Maden!"  And resumed her quiet reading, but she knew that wouldn't last long.

As she had asked, he would be bringing them in soon and she would have to go through with this whole ordeal once again. Unfortunately this was as close to the highlight of her day as anything else in this godforsaken hell-hole. She might as well get it over with. She listened as the eager Kommodore scrabbled into action, going about bringing the fresh POW into the room with her, again. She would have to get ready for him. Slowly and regretfully Rarity rose from her sanctuary of folders and literature. She tried to remind herself that this was her job now, and no matter how much she hated it, she had to learn to deal with it, but still she felt anger boiling in her blood over the whole ordeal. The Führer himself. Those words stung her mind, no matter how many times she said that to herself it still sounded wrong. It had been the Führer himself who had put her in charge of this worthless POW camp. But she was a soldier, and as a soldier she knew her place, and knew her duty, and she knew that she had to get on with it.  She pulled a hard, lead, leather wrapped bludgeon out of her desk. Yes this was her duty, beating the living shit out of defenseless swine. She hated it. She could hear the sound of frantic hoof-beats outside of her door. The same old thing, over and over. It was time to shed innocent blood again. "Treten Sie ein!" She heard herself yell. Yes, it was time for fun. The top half of the panting Kommodore poked through the door and yanked harshly on the barbed wire leash he so very much enjoyed using and proceeded to pull the victim in on reluctant hooves. And In he dragged, to her stark astonishment, the most stunningly beautiful mare she had ever seen in her life.

She was crying. Not babbling like an idiot, only simple tears flowing down her grimy cheeks and mingling with the blood streaming from her nose.

"Holen Sie sich bewegen!" The Kommodore yelled and jerked the wire again.

She watched as the yellow pegasus yelped as the barbs bit deeper into her neck, pushing more blood to the surface of her skin. This was wrong, and she knew it. She didn't know why but she could tell that she was out of place, too precious to be waisted on war. There was something completely horrible about this. She had sinned enough in her life to know the difference between good bad, and bad bad. The poor filly looked as though she hadn't eaten in days. And yet she realized something strange about all this. She had seen plenty of ponies just like her come into this office and most of them never once again saw the light of day. Hell, she downright enjoyed torturing others under usual circumstances. So why was she so special. She shook her head violently. This was silly, it was probably just a side-effect of stress. She couldn't believe she was so jumbled up that she was actually beginning to feel sympathy for her victims. She had to follow through.

"Raus hier dummKopf." She growled to her grinning comrade.

He got the message. After saluting quickly, he turned on his heel and trotted out the door. She hoped that would be the last she would see of him today. He was a despicable idiot. She turned back to the mare and prepared to begin her session. It was a simple process: Hit her till she knows you hate her then tear her down to her pathetic . She raised the lead bludgeon over her head, looking down at her cowering on the floor. She paused. Then, brought down the tool on her with all of her might. The sickening "Crack" of bone breaking accompanied by another yell of pain gave her all the information that she needed to know that she had hit her far to hard. She lowered her weapon for a second, she felt horrible. She just wanted to stop and send her back. Frantically she tried to snap out of her delusional state and hit her again. She tried to block out her yells as she repeated the painful process the mandatory fifteen times. After that came what was usually her favorite part but now just felt like a terrible burden. She raised her small revolver t'words the terrified pegasus pushing herself to do it. and after a long, difficult moment, she pulled the trigger.

She screamed, outright and loud now. Uncontrolled pain emanating from the stinging hole in her leg. Rarity watched her holding herself, trying to seal away her agony, she knew she couldn't. She had tried to do the same thing nearly three years earlier. Sure enough, not a second later she burst into uncontrollable tears. Rarity stared blankly as a familiar memory played and replayed it's self in her head. This had to stop, she had to finish the job. Slowly, she moved on to the last part and by far, the worst part. Rarity lifted the red hot iron swastika out of the fireplace, telling herself it needed to be done. Looking back at the prisoner she watched as her face fell with the realization of  what was about to happen. But then, something stopped her once again. Something wouldn't let her scar that beautiful mare. It was then that she felt it. Deep down in her heart she felt it, that thing that was forcing her to stop, telling her this was wrong. She knew it couldn't be her conscience, she had killed that off long ago. It was just a simple emotion, one she had felt before. It had been with her mother when she was young back when she had been living in. Rarity realized that she didn't want to do this,  and that was it. This was just too much for her. She threw down the iron. It was all over, her emotions were in control now, and she was going to stop what she had put in motion.

She had never before felt this regret, this biting hatred of herself. She needed to help her, she needed to let her know that she wouldn't do it. Quickly, she knelt by her side and started carefully untangling the barbed wire around her neck, trying to avoid any collateral damage.  After she finished unwinding the thing she did the only thing that seemed natural to her. Slowly, she slid her arms around her in what she remembered from her mother to be a comforting embrace.

"I'm so sorry. I'll stop now, you've done enough." She found herself saying in her crude english."I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."

And after those last words there was just silence, she didn't know what to say. She had done something so unimaginably horrible that she didn't even want forgiveness, but the distraught mare finished it up for her in a way that sent tears to her eyes.

"T-thank you." She said softly and buried her face in Rarity's shoulder, not saying another word.