It was a peaceful evening in Whiterun; no dragon attacks (or rumors thereof), no recent news of the war plaguing Skyrim, and no Thalmor incursions into the city. Tonight was going to be a good night, Hulda thought to herself. She had been running Whiterun's only tavern for many years and she had seen many things. So many things, in fact, that she had a keen eye for when something out of the ordinary was going on.
Speaking of out of the ordinary, the front doors opened, admitting the one people have come to know as the “Dragonborn”, a prophesied hero. This drew Hulda's curiosity. The Dragonborn was not always known for coming to her tavern very often, and when he did, it was always for some strange reason. Tonight was no different as she watched him look around, then make his way to the side room. Hulda saw Mallus Maccius from the Honningbrew Meadery way in the back and figured that's who the hero was there to see.
Hulda shrugged it off as Mikael, the resident bard, approached the bar.
“Another mead, Mikael?” she asked.
“You know it”, he returned with a smile. Hulda was about to grab a bottle when a loud crashing noise, followed by irate shouting, could be heard from outside.
“What was that?!” Mikael asked.
“I don't...” Hulda didn't have time to finish her thought when more shouting, louder this time, was heard. A feral scream rang out and, a moment later, the attention of everyone in the tavern was caught by the sound of something large crashing against the front doors, bending them inwards to the point of breaking.
“By the Divines, should we call the guards?” Mikael asked incredulously.
This time, Hulda didn't even have time to vocalize her thoughts when the front doors were blown in by some great force and shattered against the walls. When the dust settled, everyone was confounded by what they saw.
Two small...horses?...were standing just inside the threshold. One was light green with a horn atop its forehead. Its mane and tail had the same shade of green as its coat, highlighted by a streak of white. It was also wearing the robes of a student from the College of Winterhold; this one was looking around with excitement and joy on its face.
It was the other one, however, that made everyone concerned for their well-being. It was yellow with...were those wings?...on its sides. It was clad in a full set of iron armor, which partially concealed its pink mane. A chunk of wood was impaled on one of the helm's horns. It bore a look on its face so angry, so hostile, that if looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead.
“WHERE ARE THEY?!!!!”, the yellow one shouted with enough force, one could be forgiven for thinking that it (she, by the sound of the voice) must also be Dragonborn. The force was so strong that it blew off the chunk of wood off her helm and sailing forward into the fire pit. She stood there glaring this way and that, breathing heavily. No one dared to speak up. No one dared to even move, not wanting to be the center of the yellow one's aggressive attention. The silence was palpable.
“I said, WHERE ARE...” Her voice was cut off when the green one put a fore-hoof to the yellow one's muzzle, effectively cutting off the latter's sentence.
“Oh come on, Fluttershy”, the green one (another female) said, apparently oblivious to the yellow one's ranting. “It's probably just a name. Businesses come up with weird names all the time. Besides,” she said, wonder and rapture rising in her voice, “just look at all the humans here.”
“No!” Fluttershy responded, turning to the other. “No, Lyra. It can't be just a name! There's always a story behind the name! And I don't like this NAME!!!” She yelled out this last sentence into the crowd, causing everyone to cringe and cower.
Hulda's hand slowly slid down to her waist and came to rest on the dagger at her side, ready to use it if necessary. She only hoped that her patrons would regain enough sense to spring into action as well; she didn't like the idea of going against these two on her own. The one called “Lyra” surely must be a mage, given the clothes she was wearing, and “Fluttershy” appeared to have a Daedric battleaxe slung on her back; nothing good ever came from that type of weapon.
Hulda's hand barely had time to wrap itself around her dagger when she suddenly found herself directly in Fluttershy's deathly glare. Hulda felt her blood run cold as the yellow one began marching straight towards her. How could something easily half her size provoke such fear and trepidation in her, much less everyone else?
“You there!” Fluttershy shouted as she leaped into the air and landed in front of Hulda, her hind-legs on a bar stool, her fore-legs on the counter separating the two. Fluttershy leaned in until her muzzle was but an inch from Hulda's face, her death glare still in force. “Where...are...they?” she hissed out under her breath.
“Uh...um. W-who do you mean?” Hulda squeaked out. “W-where are who?” She instantly regretted asking as she saw Fluttershy's visage grow even more threatening. It even began to...change? Yes, it was definitely changing. Tufts of fur grew out of her ears. Her eyes changed from an aquamarine blue to a piercing red. Her snarl became more pronounced as a pair of fangs poked their way out of her mouth. 'By the Divines', thought Hulda, 'is she a vampire?' She had only a brief moment to register all of this as the monster in front of her broke her train of thought.
“You know who I'm talking about!!” Fluttershy screamed with such unrelenting force that everything around her that wasn't nailed down was pushed away with great force. “Where are the ponies you've been mistreating?! I will not allow you to harm any more! Do you hear me?! Never again! Now where are they?! Tell me now or, help me Celestia, I will tear this place down with my bare hooves!!”
“Fluttershy, will you relax?” A voice, obviously unconcerned with what was going on, was heard among the patrons. Hulda glanced over to see who had spoken. Her eyes fell upon Lyra who was sitting in Mikael's lap next to the fire and holding his hands up to her face.
“Do you even see anypony around here?” Lyra continued. “I haven't seen one since we walked in.”
“Well, there must be”, Fluttershy countered, glaring back over her shoulder. “Why else would they have such a despicable name?”
“I don't know”, Lyra responded, her voice muffled by the bard's hands. “The only ones I've seen are the ones outside at the stable, and they didn't exactly say anything when we passed by.”
“We'll see about that”, Fluttershy said, glaring back at Hulda, the look in her eyes even more intense.
With that said, Fluttershy leaped down and ran off into the side room, shoving patrons aside as she went. A great deal of noise was heard as loose items were thrown about, the words “Get out of my way!” were shouted by the yellow menace, followed by the Dragonborn being violently tossed into the main room, and more clanking and crashing.
“You're next.” Everyone's attention was diverted as Lyra happily crawled out of Mikael's lap and trotted over to where the Dragonborn was lying and plopped down on his chest, wrapping her forelegs around his neck in a tight hug. The fallen hero looked at her with a look of utter confusion in his eyes, looked at Hulda as if to say 'What's going on?', only for Hulda to look back as if to say 'I have no idea'. He would've tried to push Lyra off of him, but the soft moan he heard told him he wasn't in any danger, so he simply allowed it.
Everyone stayed perfectly still for what felt like an eternity as the chaos continued. Fluttershy dashed this way and that, still convinced she would find whatever ponies she had referred to earlier. The look in her eyes, those burning red eyes, never changed. She had no problem head-butting a patron or two if they were in her way. Not that anyone really complained; better to be head-butted than to say hello to those razor-sharp fangs of hers, after all.
Lyra, meanwhile, was occupying her time by going around and hugging every patron she could get her hooves on (again, not that anyone complained) and getting a feel of their hands. She would giggle whenever a patron shuddered and recoiled when it was their “turn”, but she would assure them that she wouldn't hurt them. Hulda was at a loss for words. How could this...this “Lyra” be so gentle and considerate (and adorable, Hulda had to admit she was adorable), and yet abide being in the company of one as maniacal and destructive as the other one? Hulda believed she would never know, so she buried her hands in her face and waited out the yellow one's rampage.
After what felt like ages, she became aware of heavy breathing; she knew that the breath's owner was near, for she could feel it as well. She raised her head and opened her eyes. There in front of her was Fluttershy, standing again on the bar stool and counter as before. The tufts in her ears, as well as the fangs, were gone, and her eyes were blue again, but she still bore a look of anger.
“Alright, you”, she said. “I'll give you another chance. Where are the ponies you've been mistreating?”
“What ponies are you talking about?” Hulda answered wearily. “And what makes you think I've been mistreating any animal?” Fluttershy looked like she was about to lose her temper again when she felt a sweet roll bounce off of her helmet.
“For Celestia's sake, Fluttershy”, Lyra said impatiently behind her. “Just tell her already.”
“Fine.” Fluttershy belted back. Looking back at Hulda, she continued. “It's on your sign outside. You know? The sign? The Battered Mare? You abuse poor, innocent ponies, and then you have the nerve to name this dump for your horrible activities?” Her voice had been steadily rising, almost to the point of yelling again.
Hulda was at a loss. Did she say The...Battered...Mare? She struggled to make sense of Fluttershy's ranting when she suddenly remembered what the name of her tavern actually was. She groaned.
“Honey”, she began in defeat. “This place is called The Bannered Mare, not The Battered Mare.”
It was now Fluttershy's turn to be at a loss. “Uh...B-bannered?” she stammered. Hulda merely nodded. “N-no mistreated ponies?” Hulda shook her head. Fluttershy began to tremble. “The...Bannered Mare?” she asked, though it seemed like she just trying to wrap her head around the idea.
“Yes, Bannered”, Hulda answered. “You know, like a banner or a standard?”
“Oh, my”, Fluttershy squeaked out.
※ ※ ※
Ysolda stood behind the counter, happily surveying her surroundings. It had been two weeks since she had purchased the tavern from Hulda, and she was amazed at how easily, and quickly, the transaction had been made. She hadn't heard of the events which led to Hulda's eagerness to sell (she had been in Solitude meeting a friend), but judging by the mess Hulda had left behind, it was apparently enough to encourage the sale.
Ysolda pushed the thought out of her mind as she turned her attention to the business at hand. She had spent the last two weeks taking stock of her inventory, preparing invoices for some needed supplies, and finishing the cleaning that was desperately needed. She had tried asking what had happened, but everyone she talked to either dodged the question or simply refused to say anything.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump on the front doors, followed by a muffled laugh. She started to look, but her attention was instead drawn to the looks on the faces of some of her regular customers. They too were looking towards the doors, but it seemed like everyone of them were looking on in fear. 'What's wrong with them?' she wondered.
Her question was answered when the front doors were opened, admitting a strange sight. Two small...horses?...were seen crossing the threshold. One, wearing glass armor, was sky-blue with wings and a rainbow colored mane and tail; a glass bow and quiver could be seen slung on its back. The other, dressed in scale armor, was a plum colored horse (without wings) and a purplish mane and tail. It was nursing a bump on its head, which probably explained the thud on the door.
Ysolda barely had time to register this when the two looked in her direction, smiled, and started walking over. She noticed that the plum one was staggering. Whether it was from hitting the door, or maybe it was drunk, she couldn't tell. What she could tell was that the other patrons were moving as far back from the two as they could.
Upon reaching the counter, they both hopped up onto the bar stools. The blue one landed with ease, but the plum one merely flopped up before falling to the floor. This got a chuckle out of the first one.
“C'mon, Berry”, the blue one said. “At least wait until you're drunk before you cause any damage.” Berry groaned as she struggled to get up and onto the stool.
“Well, more drunk, that is. Anyway”, she (it sound like a “she”) turned her attention to Ysolda. “Lady, give us all the cider and mead this will get us.” She reached under her wing and pulled out a large sack of coin and plopped it onto the counter.
“Yesh”, Berry slurred, also sounding like a “she”. “Gimme all the (hic) hard shtuff you got (hic).” Her face promptly fell forward and slammed into the counter.
Ysolda wasn't sure what to make of this. What was she to do? How does she handle customers like this? No one had told her what to do when dealing with talking horses. With no answer forthcoming, she resigned herself to pouring the first round.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sam Guevenne, a regular patron as well as a regular drunk, walk up to the two.
“You two look like you can hold your liquor”, he said. “How about a friendly drinking contest to win a staff?”
“Ha!” the blue one said in defiance. “There ain't nopony, and I mean nopony, who can out drink us!”
“Yeah!” Berry shouted, raising her head up so fast she lost her balance and fell onto the floor. “You're (hic) on!”
“Now hold on”, Ysolda interrupted. “First of all, Sam, you're always drunk. You”, she said pointing down at Berry, “you look like you've had way too much as it is, and you-” She pointed her finger at the blue one, ready to scold her as well.
“Hey! I'm only a little tipsy!” the blue one answered. “But I aim to fix that. This place is The Hammered Mare, right?” Her answer was apparently funny, because Sam had burst out laughing, followed by Berry.
Ysolda groaned and wondered if she could sell the tavern back to Hulda.
Author's Note
Here's something for both fans of MLP and Skyrim players. Have you seen the YouTube video "A Day in Ponyville" by Agrol Channel? At 2:05, Amethyst Star walks back into her house and places some mail on her table. To the right, you see a note stating "We Know". In Skyrim, it's a prelude to your meeting with Astrid from the Dark Brotherhood. Here's the link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCaHGPdHHCU
