As Winter Dies, So Spring Is Born

by Impossible Numbers

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Tragedy, Private Pansy, Commander Hurricane, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4566

On the day of Equestria's first Winter Wrap-Up, the pegasus once known as Private Pansy – now promoted to Captain Pansy – leaves the celebrations early to face her former commander. Who is now in prison.

On the day of Equestria's first Winter Wrap-Up, the pegasus once known as Private Pansy – now promoted to Captain Pansy – leaves the celebrations early to face her former commander. Who is now in prison.

Published 2017-02-28 19:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-28 19:40:01 UTC

Never Friends, Always Together

Pansy stopped her striding march and forced her eyes shut. Metal bars twanged in the distance. Hooves crashed against iron. Every shout tightened the muscles around her face, but she fought to keep them calm. She wanted so much to shiver, and yet she could not let so much as a tic break free.

I’m not a cringing private anymore, she thought. I am not a cringing private anymore.

Another shout cut itself off. Somewhere behind the granite walls, a body thumped onto the floor.

The unicorn guards on either side of the dungeon gateway saluted. She could see the chafe marks, red and raw, fringing the edges of their golden barding. They still weren’t used to armour; the unicorns had been daft enough to fashion it out of gold, of all things. Had the prisoner escaped, she could’ve pushed dents into it and cut into their flanks at the same time.

Their horns glowed. Pansy took a deep breath, mist briefly glowing ahead of her muzzle, before she stepped through the opening gateway.

Magical torches lit up as soon as she entered. Under their glares, the flagstones seared orange blobs across her vision. At the end of the corridor, the half-circle of a window showed grey skies and the drifting white fluff of snowflakes. Pegasi zipped back and forth as silhouettes against the dull glow.

Either side of her, the iron bars stretched onwards, guarded by the walls of each cell spaced out like columns. Within the nearest cell of the prison, hay smothered the floor and a wooden bed frame sagged where a body had jumped on and splintered it.

Pansy tutted under her breath; fragments of a wooden bowl and a tray lay on the floor, on top of a splattered grey splodge of oatmeal, and among scattered carrots and apples and cucumbers and various exotic leaves. A chip in the opposite wall showed where someone had kicked the lot.

Lying on her side, half in the shadows, was Commander Hurricane.

Pansy forced herself not to salute. Not “Commander” anymore. Not now. Especially not after what she did. And all because of a childish insult!

From between limp, knotted locks, the blazing eyes struck as lightning. Pansy flinched, but instantly the eyes dimmed. Now their redness and whiteness melded into a dull pink. Those were not the eyes of a mare who’d once declared wars over breakfast just to excuse a good punch-up in the afternoon.

Bereft of her armour, she almost seemed smaller. Her legs bulged with the muscles of a workhorse in its prime, and the torso was as toned as she remembered, but the life behind it had drained away.

As though it pained her, Hurricane forced herself upright. She gave Pansy a feeble salute, which bounced off her ear and flopped back down again.

“Congratulations, Captain Pansy,” she said, and the spit in her voice gave way to cooler tones. “On your promotion, I mean. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Pansy fought to keep her beating heart steady, but panic rushed through her head. I’m talking to the commander. I’m actually standing here, talking down to the commander. This can’t be right. There must have been a mistake. I don’t do this.

“Thank you,” was all she dared to say.

“A year ago, you were still only a private.”

Pansy nodded, staring straight ahead. “Yes, sir.”

“My, my. Things were different then, of course. Different standards. You wouldn’t have made it past private under my command.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ha. I’m not a ‘sir’ anymore, Pansy. Cut the horse apples. If you’re gonna be a captain now, at least act like one.”

“Yes, si – Yes, Hurricane.”

Nevertheless, she didn’t dare break her stiff-backed posture. Even out of uniform, Hurricane lived and breathed the military life. It radiated off of her like heat. Old habits clung to Pansy’s disciplined legs and neck as easily as her chest continued to rise and fall with each breath. She realized she was waiting for her ‘commanding’ officer to speak first. It had always been that way.

“It was stupid to come down here,” continued Hurricane gruffly. “You’ve got a future to think about. Can’t mingle with no-good civilians like me anymore.”

Pansy threw off a salute. “With respect, si – Hurricane,” she said to the far wall, “your verdict hasn’t been decided yet.”

“Don’t give me that. I know what a court martial’s like. Even these modern ones would throw me out into the rain.”

Once more, Pansy raised her leg for the salute, but only remembered halfway along to stop it, and brought it back down again. “It doesn’t have to be that way anymore. I know what the others think, and I know what the new commander thinks, but I’m sure we can come to a calm and careful compromise. Um. Your years of service –”

“Don’t mean a thing in the new world.” Hurricane gritted her teeth and forced her creaking bones to shift. Legs compressed the knots around her pasterns while she eased her body onto all fours. “Let’s face it: my years of service amounted to nothing but scrap after scrap after scrap. What a waste, huh?”

Pansy opened her mouth to argue, but then clamped it shut again. Deep down – in fact, not even that far down – she’d always groaned or whined whenever Hurricane had declared war on yet another enemy. So many hooves bruised, so many feelings burned and ripped, so many houses smashed and throats sore with battle-cries: she’d looked at the other tribes, at the unicorns weaving beautiful tapestries, at the earth ponies celebrating in the streets and passing around food at public banquets, and wondered, Why do we have to do this?

Hurricane sighed and bowed her head, covering her face with the tattered fringe. “I’m finished, Pansy.”

She didn’t dare speak, but she almost gasped. From her widening face to her shocked back, her entire body jolted in surprise. Where there should have been the voice of command, there was now a flat nothingness. Suddenly, she wished she’d never come.

“I think that’s just the dungeons talking,” she said at once. “I told the unicorns it was unnecessary. If you like, I can have you moved to a much more comfortable cottage. The earth ponies have a tradition of house arrest. It’s both humane and practical.”

Growling, Hurricane stomped both front hooves. “Darn it, Private! What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with everybody? We stop fighting for a year, and suddenly all the tribes are swapping secrets like giggly fillies!”

“But Commander – I mean, Hurricane –” Pansy flattened her ears against her skull, “that’s what we have to do now. If we don’t trust each other and share our cultures, we’ll just go back to the bad old days.”

The wind vanished from Hurricane, and she slumped where she stood.

“Why me?” she groaned into a hoof. “Why did this end up taking down me? I was supposed to die in a glorious battle. I was a commander! It’s my right!”

Pansy tried to remember the years and years and years they had spent under military training. All of it telling them how sweet and noble it was to die in battle. It had never managed to cling to Pansy, who'd preferred not to die at all, but it hung over Hurricane like a mist.

Yet pity boiled away in Pansy’s chest. Years of being shouted at and pushed around came back to her in a rush. For the first time since entering, she met Hurricane’s gaze, and saw the shadow of an old sneer behind the hoof.

“And that’s really what you want, is it?” she said calmly; yell though her mind would, she wasn’t prepared yet to give up on those years of discipline. “Hundreds of commanders have died fighting somebody or other. Isn’t it about time we did something else?”

“Like what?” snapped Hurricane. “You’d rather go the unicorn way? Or does the earth pony funeral float your personal pyre boat?”

Pansy let her gaze wander to the spillage. “You should eat your food. No point in it going to waste.”

“Puh.” Hurricane turned her nose away from it.

The fury of her mind broke through: “I command you to eat your food, soldier!”

“Oh? I’m a soldier now, am I? You gonna make me eat it, Captain?”

“I’m going to make you see sense, you horrible little mare! Stop acting like a baby and eat up.”

They glared at each other, the echoes pounding the dust from the solid stone ceiling. All the torches crackled. Orange flickers of light pulsed on the floor between them.

Still glaring, Hurricane ambled over to the spilt oatmeal and scooped it up with each wing. Once the pile of grey sludge stopped collapsing onto the shards, she bent down and picked up a carrot between her teeth.

Pansy broke eye contact first. What am I doing? I didn’t come down here to shout at her. OK, so I really, really, really, really dislike her, but then I was supposed to hate Clover. I was supposed to hate Smart Cookie too. We were different tribes, but we could see past that. Deep down, we’re all ponies. And if I believe that, then I have to believe Hurricane is one of us too.

Moody crunching filled time. She wondered once more why someone like Hurricane would ever have wanted her, a mere private, hanging around. They’d never flown on a mission without each other. They’d kicked and punched side-by-side. Yet all Pansy remembered was the shouting and the taunting and the endless reminders of how much of a disgrace she was to the pegasus tribe. What sense did that make?

“I don’t want to go back to the old ways,” she said quietly.

Hurricane merely grunted and took another bite of her carrot.

“In fact, if I may speak my mind, Commander” – guiltily, she felt herself smirk when the mare winced – “I’ve never liked our old way of doing things.”

Hurricane swallowed. “Nobody really likes fighting, Pansy. And don’t let my trigger-happy lifestyle make you think I was any different. But you just had to do it. Not that you’ve ever been one for duty, or honour, or respect.”

Pansy winced, and then wondered why. “Couldn’t say, sir. Neither were the earth ponies or the unicorns. But none of that stopped them from becoming my good friends.”

“Uh huh.” Hurricane sucked from the pile of grey, and licked her lips. “So you would’ve surrendered to the griffons and the dragons and the other tribes each time they stole our land, would you?”

“I wouldn’t have stolen theirs, if that’s what you mean.” Pansy pointed. “Look out the window, sir. You can’t have forgotten already what all those years of fighting and hatred did to us, can you?”

Hurricane’s face squeezed with a sudden pain. “I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished,” she said stiffly. “And I’d do it all over again.”

“Even the part when winter arrived early, and you argued and pointed hooves at the other tribes, and you didn’t stop to think that might make it worse?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Hurricane cringed where she stood. “Besides, that was different.”

“No. That was exactly the same. The only thing those windigoes did was make it clearer what you were doing to each other. If they hadn’t, we’d be living in a wasteland of our own making.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Pansy strode right up to the bars, almost pressing her glare against the cold iron. “And why would you be proud of what happened in that cave? Fighting over a rock – a rock – while our new land suffered under a blizzard? Do you have any idea how ashamed I was to be anywhere near you that day?”

Nothing but moody slurping followed. Hurricane was no longer looking at her, but at a random spot on the dungeon floor.

Calm down, Pansy. This isn’t like you. Shouting at a prisoner just because you don’t like her very much. That’s not what Clover taught you. Remember her talks with Star Swirl the magician? She always invited you and Smart Cookie to sit and listen.

Pansy sighed. She paced up and down the front of the prison, listening to the crackle of the flames and the howl of the wind outside. Beyond the window, all was still greyness, yet it seemed lighter somehow. More diffuse. Fewer snowflakes drifted down.

Remember the crackling fire we used to sit around? How we’d stare into the flames and tell stories, just like we did on our first night together. I never knew unicorns were so fascinated by our history. She wouldn’t stop asking about the places I’d seen, all the strange creatures I’d met. If only I’d done more interesting things than conquer them. At least she got to talk to them. She got to know them better.

When she glanced back at Hurricane, she felt the world pull itself out from under her. What do I really want from her? It can’t just be an apology. I never thought I’d really get one. I don’t want to gloat, either. So what’s the point of me being here if she doesn’t want me around?

In a shockingly subdued voice, Hurricane said, “Captain? Can I ask you something?”

Pansy stopped pacing at once. “Com – Hurricane? What is it?”

Hoof pawing at the leftover oatmeal, Hurricane turned her head away from the bars, turned it to the slit of a window up above. Only the thinnest of grey glows suggested any kind of gap even existed.

“Why did I do it? Don’t get me wrong; I can’t imagine myself doing it any other way. But I’ve had a whole year to cause trouble, and somehow I never got around to it before now. What happened in that cave? Something must have happened. It couldn’t have just been the ice and the windigoes.”

For the first time since she’d entered, Pansy bit her lip and dammed the tears back. Hurricane had been in a block of ice, same as the other leaders. Frozen in the act of shouting, she’d captured in one endless second everything Pansy had hated about the pegasus tribe, from her uncomfortable armour to her splayed wings puffing her up.

The commander could never have seen what happened next. Not the three survivors huddling together with peaceful smiles. Not the burst of flames, or the rush of energy rising from them and fusing into the fiery heart. Not the hours of singing and talking and laughing they’d enjoyed as though they would be their last.

Yet her mouth opened and closed, and she bowed her head sadly. Words were useless here. How, in a few measly sounds, in a few measly seconds, could she capture how ineffable those moments had been? To be able to smile, and to mean it? To trust two other ponies – supposed enemies – with things she’d been bursting to tell someone ever since she was a filly? Even now, she carried the embers of that moment within the lantern of her heart, never burning as brightly as they had done, but always reminding her of her chance to create new warmth and new light.

So when Hurricane’s eye twitched, she thought, Maybe she felt it too. The heart’s power must have thawed her out. Maybe she still remembers the heat.

“I think you did it,” she said, “because you were confused, Commander.”

“I told you; I’m not a commander. And what do you mean, ‘confused’? I’ve always been sure about everything. A good leader is always sure.”

“Until it almost got us frozen forever. That would make anyone stop and think.”

“Stop trying to psyche me out, Private. I asked a straight question, and I demand a straight answer.”

“Yes si –” Pansy raised her head higher. “No, sir. I’m not a private anymore. You want a straight answer, though, so I’ll give it.” Grunting slightly, she sat down, ignoring the chill of the flagstones and the clank of her armour. “You were confused because the cave showed you what you’d been missing all these years. You didn’t just feel your own bloodlust and love of violence anymore; you could feel our emotions, our loves, our passions, all in one go. The unicorns and earth ponies felt the same thing, or else why would they agree to join us and found Equestria?”

Hurricane flapped her wings until they blurred. “That wasn’t me. That was some unicorn trickery. So that’s what must have happened.”

“No, sir.”

“This was all a trick. It just took me a year to shake it off and fight back!”

“No, sir,” persisted Pansy, and the prisoner folded her wings again. “That was no trick. The feelings were real. Maybe they did weaken over time, especially once all the other ponies had learned to live together in Equestria.”

“Ha,” said Hurricane. “I’ve fought battles that lasted longer than that.”

“It must have worn off.” Pansy rubbed her forehead with a hoof. She could feel a new consciousness growing inside her head, blooming so that the grey sky and torchlight suddenly brightened and she heard even the faint puffs of breath from the unicorn guards.

“So now what?” Hurricane hopped onto the bed frame, which creaked ominously, and rested her head on her cannons. “I’ve brought shame to the pegasi. Why are you even wasting your time down here with me?”

“Because I know why you did it.”

“I know why I did it now. Because I’m a stupid old warhorse who can’t think differently.”

“Then I’m a cowardly little baby who can’t amount to anything.”

Pansy saluted again. To her shame, she saw Hurricane rub something out of her eye and wince. The fire can run out at any time… How could I have not thought about it?

“Just go,” said Hurricane. “Look, I clearly don’t have a clue what pony society even is anymore. I see an earth pony on the street and I wonder why I’m not kicking its flank. I’m having to talk to unicorn ambassadors like they’re suddenly fellow officers instead of numbskulls.”

“And I’m telling my friends what good things we’ve done to protect ourselves. Yes, I know I don’t like fighting” – Pansy stared down the narrowed eyes – “but at least some of those fights were necessary. I don’t like being burned up by dragons either, but who were the first two ponies to buck the leader in the face when he tried stealing all of our food?”

Pansy reared up, resting hooves on the bars. Hurricane didn’t react.

“You don’t regret what you did,” murmured Pansy. “Do you?”

After a while, she lowered herself back to the floor. It had been a cruel question to ask someone like the commander; so much pride and shame clashed beneath her bedraggled locks that her face twitched and quivered with the effort of restraint.

“We’re still soldiers,” said Pansy calmly. “We still fight for our ponies. All that’s changed is that we fight for each other, not against each other.”

“Our spirit’s drained away,” Hurricane said into her hooves. “Equestria won’t last another year. There’s so much forest to clear and land to cover, we’ve got those useless temporary towns and no real fortresses, the buffaloes and diamond dogs can’t stand us being here. I’ve led us all to our doom.”

Overhead, the skies were now pure white. Whole squadrons of pegasi shot past in arrowheads and spirals. No snowflakes could be seen.

“You know,” said Pansy more cheerfully, and she sat down, “we’re starting a new tradition this year. I always liked Winter Wrap-Up. So beautiful and peaceful. I could guide the clouds across the sky all day. But now it’s even better. The unicorns break the ice with their spells and melt the snow with the power of the sun. Smart Cookie got the earth ponies to clear the biggest drifts, and this year they’re inviting all the tribes to watch the planting of the seeds. And Clover’s so fascinated by all the animals; we’re going to visit them in their homes and ask them about their lives. If we can find a translator for them, of course!”

She tried a cheesy grin. It got no reaction whatsoever.

“Um. Yes.” She flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Well, I thought you should know that.” More warmly, she added, “You’d have been welcome to join in, if you’d wanted to.”

Hurricane glanced at her, but it was enough to reveal the orange dampness in her eyes, under the torchlight, before she looked away again.

We need to keep the flames burning. They can go out, and they will if we’re not careful. That must’ve happened to the commander. She used to be so happy, even if it was only because she loved arguing with the earth pony ambassadors. At least there was someone there to argue with.

Once more, she stood up. “Commander Hurricane – don’t interrupt –” she held up a hoof to stop Hurricane in mid-reply, “I can’t hide how awful your mistake was. It was cruel and thoughtless to attack all those ponies and destroy their homes, just because the unicorns didn’t agree with your plans to conquer the forest territories. It was wrong to pretend they were our enemies again, just because you weren't used to being their friends. And it was wrong to betray Equestria and all it stood for, just because you couldn't control yourself for their sakes. But I don’t want to see you waste your life in prison.”

Pansy's gaze pinned her down again; the commander's face was glistening slightly.

Cautiously, Hurricane said, “You seriously think I'll ever come out? After what I did? After all the ponies I hurt and the lives I ruined?”

“Clover taught me that one of the greatest things in life is a second chance. She and Star Swirl believe punishment should help a pony better themselves, not be an excuse for meanness and misery. I agree with them.”

Hurricane snorted, but took the chance to wipe her eye ever so slightly. Pansy felt her own loose wings sag in sympathy.

“And Smart Cookie taught me that, when one of their own passes away, the earth ponies make sure they’re surrounded by family and friends and everyone who’s ever known or loved them. So yes. Yes, I would rather go out that way. And I think, if you were honest with yourself, you’d want to go out that way too.”

Again, Hurricane snorted. A lightening of the dungeon, however, made them both look up.

Through the slit of the window and through the much larger half-circle elsewhere in the dungeon, pure sunlight beamed. Blue skies peered in at them. Songbirds whistled their spring tunes. Pegasi rose up, forelimbs full, and threw their loads up into the sky. Pink petals and multicoloured confetti rained down. Cheers and harp music greeted them. They could hear laughter, and the chink of cutlery. Heralds trumpeted the unicornian march, and they knew the King of the Unicorns himself would be joining in.

“What are they doing?” said Hurricane. Limbs tensed, back arched: she looked ready to flee.

Pansy smiled. She wanted to say something trite or cute, like Keeping the fires burning, but some new impulse shook its head at her. That was not how a captain should behave. A captain should be sure, strong, and above all a true soldier.

She welcomed the impulse and forced a salute just as Hurricane turned back to her.

“Sir!” she said loudly. “Winter Wrap-Up has concluded. Our mission was a success, sir.”

“Our mission?” Hurricane swayed a little where she stood.

“To protect our country, to do our tribe proud, and to…” The more traditional Pansy reasserted itself, and she sadly waved goodbye to the brief impulse that had burned too brightly and vanished too soon. “And to… to make peace, sir.”

Hurricane skewed her lips. “You’re going to make an awful commanding officer, Pansy.”

“Titles aren’t everything, sir.” Although I notice you’re not complaining about my using them anymore, ‘sir’.

“Geez, I’m too old for this, and I’m not even at retirement age yet.”

Pansy broke her stance; she had to flick the locks out of her face again. “You’re never too old to learn, sir. Star Swirl’s over three hundred years old, and he was at the front of the queue when we gave out our history chronicles, sir.”

“You can’t prove anything with Star Swirl. He’s a magician. It’s what he does.” Hurricane frowned and pointed at her. “I order you not to bring him up again, Private.”

Pansy kept her gaze focused straight ahead, her mind tap-dancing over hot coals and unable to stop. “Can’t, sir. Sorry, sir. Not a commanding officer anymore, sir. And you are going to make up for your crime, sir. You have my word.”

Finally, she dared to make eye contact again. She’d never seen Hurricane give a calculating stare and wouldn’t have known beforehand what one even looked like, not when strategic thinking was low on the list of pegasus priorities. But now she got a full blast: the slits for eyes, the raised eyebrow trying to see over her mask, the pursed lips waiting for an analysis before charging off.

Then Hurricane showed her a new face. Creased with worry. Wincing with some invisible blow struck against her sides. To fail and smooth itself down with sadness.

“Why are you doing this, Pansy?” she said. “I know you’ve never liked me, and I sure as heck have never treated you any better. So why do you care so much?”

Pansy didn’t salute this time, but neither did she let any expression leave her face. Amid the cheers and the birdsong and the booming voice of a King who’d discovered the cake platters, she hoped the commander would get the point.

“Because someone has to do it, sir. It’s the right thing to do.”

“So that’s all it is? Some kind of duty?”

Pansy shook her head sadly. “No one should be alone on a day like this.”

Hurricane didn’t keep still. She marched up and down the prison. She raised her wings and let them flop. She put hoof to cheek, then to lips, then back to the floor. She opened her mouth to speak. Finally, she threw her forelegs up and sat down hard.

“All right,” she said in a low voice. “If I have to…”

“Oh no. It’s entirely up to you. If you want, I can leave you right now. If you want me to do so…” Is this a good idea? But why not try it? I’m not doing anything wrong. “…my friend.”

They sat together in silence for a long while. Outside, the blue sky began to fade to sunset green.

Hurricane would never say thank you. Pansy knew her too well to expect that. But the silence told her everything.

When she eventually got up and saluted, she heard the slightest of sighs, and as she walked to the oaken door, she looked back and saw Hurricane’s shining eyes. The old commander’s gaze followed her until she was out of sight.