Blight of The War Horse (Reforged)

A choir of noise left no room for a reprieve for anypony to think, the many voices of party guests going about their Nightmare Night celebration filling the ballroom to its brim. Soft, haunting-esque music played by a small group of sharply-dressed ponies- some posing as fictional creatures of the night -flowed through the sea of the pompous aristocracy. Tables sprinkled neatly around the ballroom held numerous treats, and nobles spun and galloped in varying degrees of experienced dancing between them.

At one of these many tables, a small horde of finely dressed mares encompassed the mostly empty seating area in a fit of giggles and praise- some covering their mouths.

In the epicenter of flattery was the renowned and highest-grossing fashion designer of the modern age- unrivaled in his talent for making the most stunning outfits in Equestria, Trotselot. The sharply dressed stallion, sporting a dazzling two-piece suit and a red and orange striped tie comfortably hugging his neck, sipped away at his almost dried glass of wine.

Waiting until the surrounding mares' giggles died out, he adjusted his golden-rimmed glasses.

“The best part was when he came in to receive his commission, everypony saw the frilly dress he wanted because he forgot the pick-up time was around rush-hour!” He loudly said, making the mares laugh harder. Finishing his story, he looked down at his glass, then pointed it at a mare next to a tall bottle with a friendly smile. “Darling, be a good girl and give me a refill~.” He commanded.

About an hour or more passed since the celebration started, and he’d been here about thirty minutes waiting for any sign of the savage mare turned guard. He knew well of the old colt’s plan: find her, use his inescapable charm, maybe have some fun, and finish by getting everything private out of her. Of course, the final goal would likely be a long process of fake emotion and acting for such an ordeal, but it wasn’t impossible. And like a siren at sea, and what he mentioned during the meeting, nopony had ever escaped the clutches of his lovely wit, no matter how unruly they may be.

Unfortunately, no sign of the supposedly large mare was in sight despite Trotselot’s time sitting around. No patrolling the crowd or standing in a specific spot, Trotselot began feeling a bit impatient with his lack of results- the celebration would end soon, so he needed to hurry.

It was of no matter as these gullible wenches started to bore him.

After the mare he ordered around had poured his glass, Trotselot stood up from his seat, swatting the wrinkles from his clothing. “I deeply apologize, ladies, but important has come up, and I must see to it.” He fained guilt, putting a wing over his chest.

“Are we not important too?” The ordered mare whined, making him internally grimace in disgust.

Putting on a fake smile, Trotselot removed the wing from his chest and smoothly replaced its tip under the mare’s chin, gently forcing her to look into his crimson eyes. “Of course you all are, and especially you, darling.” He softly replied before moving his muzzle closer to her left ear, “You have such a lovely voice; I can’t wait to make it sing all night long~.” He whispered in a sultry voice, his wing feeling the shiver of excitement running up the mare's decently sculpted figure. “Room 209 in four hours. Don’t be late.” She had a terrible social personality but was alright in the looks department.

Trotselot moved away from the now heavily blushing mare, leaving the table behind to venture into rough waves of dancing nobles. Weaving and twisting past the dancing bodies, the seductive stallion navigated the dance floor like a snake in tall grass, eyes scanning for the savage mare.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long as the sound of uncouth chanting and shouting over by the collection of bar stands caught the stallion's attention.

Swimming through the crowd some more, Trotselot arrived at the dancing’s border, lacking any imperfections in his appearance or spilling his wine, only to be stunned into silence at what he saw with a look of bewilderment.

Indeed he finally located the elusive savage mare he’d wasted half an hour of his life looking for. But instead of standing to attention, surveying the ponies, making sure nothing terrible happens, sticking to Celestia’s side like a parasite- or anything a guard was supposed to do -she was doing the exact opposite. Much like his position earlier, the titanic, armored mare sat at the bar with a glass mug in her hoof, the beautiful mares replaced with disgusting bat-like pony guards and an old stallion, and visibly drunk off her flank. She was also apparently telling a story by the look of it if the rowdy laughter from the others was anything to go by.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it through his nostrils, Trotselot checked the straightness of his suit's lapels prior to approaching the savage mare.

As he closed the relatively short distance, he could start to make out what she was saying. “-So after the slippery bastard kept running away, I got a clean cut on his cheek- small, but it drew blood. He fell to the ground and started getting teary-eyed with me, but I swung my sword at him and stopped halfway, and the coward ran away crying for his mother!” She barked in laughter, along with her company.

Trotselot’s muzzle recoiled for a split second in confusion and aversion; how can somepony go around saying such things? Either the bat-like ponies and old stallion were really intoxicated, or they were all as beastly as the savage mare.

Nevertheless, Trotselot had a job in the name of ‘noble pride’ to accomplish, and damn to Celestia if he wasn’t going to put everything into his act.

“Good evening, gentlecolts and mares.” He greeted politely, catching the attention of several bat ponies- including the savage mare. “I couldn’t help but be allured by the joyous noise of your conversation and thought I’d asked to join in.” He said.

“Who’s this fruitcake?” One of the male bat ponies slurred to the old stallion, bobbing his head in Trotselot’s direction.

Although annoyed by the rude name calling, Trotselot kept his friendly visage as the old stallion checked him out with an unfocused gaze. “W-Which one you talking about- I’m seeing triple over here!” The old coot hollered with a cackle. “But going by your voice, I’m assuming you’re that upstart clothes maker all the magazines talk about.” He said.

The savage mare let out an un-mare-like snort, “Clothes maker? Are you thinkin' of getting a chemise? it’d match since you’re so faint-hearted- can’t even drink as half much as I can!” She joked, speech almost unintelligible.

“Shut up! Drinking that much: I’d need to book a funeral service for my imploded liver.” The old stallion drunkenly retorted, much to the former mare’s teasing.

Irritatingly, feeling left out of the conversation he had started, Trotselot exhaled deeply before quickly downing every drop of his wine, using his wing to hold the glass once he finished. “Sorry to interrupt; about my earlier statement, I’m simply curious, what story a fair maiden like you was telling to these fine gentlecolts.” As he spoke the start of his alluring hymn, Trotselot’s polished hoof raised to the savage mare’s free, rough hoof. “What I heard upon approaching, matched with your beauty, only attracted me to your valiant and strong aura like a moth to a flame.” Ignoring the obvious flustered confusion written on her face, he successfully cupped his hoof under hers and pulled it in for a peck.

Suddenly, and also thankfully, the unwashed and dirty hoof of the savage mare escaped his grasp and wrapped around his barrel. Unable to react, Trotselot let out a yelp as he was pulled into a side hug, leaving no room for air to enter his lungs.

As if the minor whiplash wasn’t enough, the fancy stallion experienced a mocked tea cup ride when the savage mare spun around on the surprisingly strong bar stool.

“Ah ha! I’d never imagine a puny pegasus admitting their inferiority in my presence! This special event calls for a celebration!” She shouted, raising her mug to an irritated pegasus bartender. “Hey, coward, get everypony here another round, got that?!” She shouted.

Hiding his indefinite fearfulness of the savage mare behind a look of annoyance and an eye roll, the bartender made hast and went to work refilling the many mugs of the bat pony guards. All said and done, roaring cheers and bantering among the bat-ponies encapsulated this small section of the world, leaving the three ponies to their whims as Trotselot’s hooves barely held onto the massive mug filled with repulsive piss-colored liquid topped with white foam.

However, and more importantly, this operation took a hard left onto the most difficult path he could have taken. Usually, the mares who were the tipsiest were the easiest to convince if you use the right words. It’s akin to building a bridge of understanding with a child by using their idiotic understanding of the world against them.

And in this unforeseen event, the rageful and psychotic nature of this mare weeks prior vanished, replaced by a drunken fool spewing tales of gore and brutal victory- the story she told before he came was something related to a duel.

Every chance Trotselot took to speak with the savage mare, she’d instantly shut it down by literally and figuratively overshadowing his presence with hers. She even had the audacity to make him, the most influential figure in the fashion industry, the butt of her crude jokes! As the night rolled on, he drank more and more of the bitter, watered-down flavored alcohol the commoners referred to as ‘salted apple cider.’ The energy given off by the savage mare brought memories back to the fancy stallion of his time in private school, where he'd been outcast and shunned by his peers-

“Come on!” The savage mare, who Trotselot came to know as Storm Breaker, said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Alll thiss fine zzrink isn’t gonna consume itself few keep ssarin' adit liyke a ded rat.” She snickered.

Sighing in exhaustion, the fancy stallion forced himself to face the mare to his left, head starting to feel lighter than usual.

“While I do fancy myself a drink sometimes, the only reason I’m here is for you, m’lady.” He droned, “I came out here to see you, and I feel ashamed we haven’t even found something you and I can talk over. A maiden and guard like you shouldn’t be here among the riff-raff in contrast to letting yourself known to the world.” He said, pulling a card from his jacket, “here is an invitation of sorts- to my boutique. I’d love to make you some garments to fit your looks.”

Storm Breaker looked down at him analytically, a judgmental look in her eye, scanning him and the card before slamming her mug onto the bartop loudly. “Alright, whad in hades is yer game, pegasus?” The mare roared drunkenly, shocking Trotselot.

“W-What?”

“Yoo hearnned me. Why arr yoo actin’ sooo buddy-buddy t' me, huh?” She repeated, leaning closer to the fancy stallion.

The smell of apples and salt filled Trotselot’s nostrils immediately, forcing him to choke back a gag in the face of a possible hospital trip via angry mare. “I-I heard you the first time, bit- m’lady. But I don’t get your question, especially the topic.” Had this mare not ever had a friendly conversation in her life?!

Lazily conjured anger left the mare’s scowling face into more of a mute annoyance, “Yoo thad ssupid orr something? none uhf yoo pathetic ponies havve cum t' me fer somethin' azz lighthearded azza shat. Yoo pizz yer pranns wenn yoo actively annoy me, thenn ackt shocked 'bout it, orr yoo alll esspeckt somethin' uhf me- i didn’t eeven wann thiss job!” She banged a hoof against her midnight-colored armor, “ Evry pony in thiss accursed place views me azz summ animal t'be tamed; i c'n see it in therre eyes” Sniffling, tears started to form in the corner of Storm Breaker’s exposed eye.

Starting to feel an intense feeling of awkwardness, partly due to not knowing how to care for a mare besides his bedside services, he opted to put a hoof on her left thigh. “Um, maybe… you’re thinking about this wrongly?” He said in a drawn-out tone.

“How? I’m seen azza minnlezz beazz t' yoo alll.” She sniffled, whipping her eye with a foreleg.

Shit, he just dug himself a hole he couldn’t get out of. How was he supposed to convince a savage they weren’t a savage while somewhat drunk? Trotselot never worried about such things in his career- the mares he slept around with usually were the ones leaving him or the other way around, never to stick around to build meaningful connections! Luckily, he had one last card up his leave for situations close to this nature, a get me out of jail free card, if you will.

Moving his hoof away, Trotselot grabbed the card off the bartop and held it in front of Storm Breaker, “Well, I dare attempt to lie and say I know how you feel. But you look like you need somepony to talk to. So when you have time, visit me, and I’ll talk with you.” He said.

“I…” The savage mare stumbled over her words, staying silent for a few moments before grabbing the card with her teeth- after a few failed tries.

Trotselot gave Storm Breaker a weirdly warm-feeling smile before he hopped off the bar stool, patting as many wrinkles out of his suit as he could, having been ruined by the mare when she hugged him earlier. “Now, time to make my exit. You can do whatever you wish with that card, but keep my offer in mind, au revoir.” Running a wing over his hair, the fancy stallion vanished into the crowd, which devolved into mini conversation instead of dancing.

It was a risky move. The savage mare would most likely reject the offer and throw the card away tomorrow when her thoughts were clearer- but Trotselot was cautiously hopeful.

The outcome was in the hooves of fate.

As the drunken Storm Breaker watched the blurry pegasus blob leave through her warping vision, her mind lagged for a moment until she looked back down at the card. Had he been serious about wanting to talk? Probably not; pity was more like it. However, even while intoxicated, Storm Breaker felt a sense of longing and warmth in her chest at the thought of that smiling pegasus. Not in a romantic way, like she rediscovered something that’d been lost so long ago.

Her thoughts on the matter were interrupted by the sound of a body hitting the floor. Looking to where it came from, she saw her caretaker face-first on the ground, snoring as he slept with a mug in his hoof.

Snorting at the unconscious unicorn’s expense, Storm Breaker looked around the ballroom with a furrowed brow.

She’d met the thestrals ponies long before the pathetically scary celebration had started as she and the lot of them were given instructions of their duties tonight by Luna herself. The ‘how’ aspect of her current bout was thanks to Olive Branch, who thought having a ‘couple’ drink between her and the thestrals would strengthen their bond. Rather uncaring of his idea’s purpose and more about the drink…this whole night happened as a result.

“Heyyyy, lads!” She shouted while raising her mug, getting the thestrals attention.

While Storm Breaker believed the bat-like ponies to be similar to the stories of her village, she was pleasantly surprised by them being the exact opposite. Sure, some of them discussed that their lifestyles weren’t too different from the ‘modern ponies,’ she was pleasantly surprised about their liking to more ‘brutal’ concepts such as fighting and hunting.

“Thiss place is starnnn t' pud my fat rump t' sleep!”

The laughs she shared and the trading of glory tales with the thestrals reminded the drunken warrior mare of pleasant times with her comrades. Drinks flying about in celebration from a hard day’s work, the crackling of a blazing fire, songs of old and adventure, and the basic feeling of being surrounded by those you know and care about. They weren’t the same, but the thestrals were the closest thing she had to comrades.

They knew of struggle from their years of oppression by the ponies after Luna’s demon took her over, and they knew of honor and pride as warriors like her.

And that simple fact made her feel right at home for this single moment.

“Sooo let’s liven thiss place upp!”

She enjoyed joining in on their cheers.

“-and then he said we were his favorite princess!” Luna gleefully said, squealing happily like a young mare as she walked by Celestia down a long corridor flanked by guards.

Celestia continued smiling proudly at her younger sister’s tale of her first nightmare night and all that it held. It was a massive relief in the great scheme of things; the holiday centered around the banishing of her sister had done the opposite of what should’ve happened. The solar princess had been worried when Luna told her of the night’s beginning, how everypony was scared of her- partly due to the element of laughter -and how no pony would see her as anything more than Nightmare Moon.

Luckily, it all came ahead thanks to her student, who planned Luna to imitate her long-dead ponysona of Nightmare Moon and scare the children. Ultimately, after showing Luna wasn’t as bad as they thought, her little ponies quickly warmed up to the lunar princess, especially a little colt wishing for her presence for any future Nightmare Nights.

The thought could make Celestia giggle, Twilight creating such risky plans as her mentor in her earlier years.

She can formulate tactics with more holes than a fishing net and somehow come out on top, but she nearly destroys the whole town with a love spell and a doll to meet a silly deadline that didn’t exist.

“It sounds like you’ve had a splendid night, Luna.” Celestia said.

“We did, si-”

“‘I,’ Luna, remember the lesson's I’ve been giving you?” She interrupted, raising an eyebrow and cheeky smirk as Luna rolled her eyes.

In turn, the lunar princess groaned, “Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I was working on my speech as my night went on. It’s not my fault that wild mare and her little run through Canterlot marketplace distracted me from those lesions.” She said, leaning a bit toward Celestia with a half-baked look of ire. “If she wasn’t such a hoof full, I’d be a master at your present day lingo.” She added.

Celestia giggled into her hoof, confusing her younger sister, “My apologies, but you might be in for a surprise.” She cryptically replied.

“What do you mean?”

Before Luna’s question could settle in the air, a pair of night guards approached the small group of ponies and saluted in unison, showing more respect in their gaze for Luna than the alicorn next to her. “Your Majesty, we came as quickly as possible when we heard of your return!” One said with a hint of slurred speech, his body waving side to side slightly.

Luna examined the two guards, “Why is that?” She asked hesitantly. “And where is Storm Breaker? I told her and you both to see me on my return, yet I’m not somehow surprised by the lack of one of you.”

“W-Well, your Highness,” The second one nervously stuttered, sounding and looking more tipsy than his partner. “That’s the problem.” He said

Trying to hold back her laughter, Celestia watched on at the pin-drop moment as the exact point where the guard's words reached Luna’s ears, her eyes dilated to a dangerous degree. “How many are dead?” She asked in a deep, quaky, and strained voice. From the looks of it, the chances of both guards having their eardrums working in the morning were slim by the way Luna stared murder into their eyes.

Fearful of the lunar princess’s wrath, the second guard stuttered heavily, random noises coming from his frantic and terrified mouth. Celestia alleviated the situation by letting a few snickers come through and holding up a hoof, silencing the guard.

“It’s best that you see for yourself, sister.” She giggled.

Luna turned to her older sister, “What-?”

“-HAPPENED HERE?!?” She roared.

Moving away from the corridor from the chariot landing pad to the ballroom's splitting staircase, thanks to Celestia’s magic, the scene below the two sisters was…many things. Akin to the aftermath of a fierce battle, multiple bodies lay across the dirtied floor- stained with the fallen drinks and food of tipped-over tables. Noble and guard alike, no pony among the still bodies moved a single inch. However, instead of the stench of blood filling the air, alcohol was the ballroom’s current scent.

Accentuating the lack of death, some ponies remained upright for a bit, falling over in a fit of tired giggles and mumbling with faces redder than tomatoes. Heck, even a few pegasi were hanging from the chandelier! The guards who were either sober enough to perform their duties or others who just arrived helped the passed-out ponies from the ballroom.

Yet, in the center of the dance floor, drunkenly swaying herself in a poor attempt to dance, was Storm Breaker herself loudly reciting the words of an unknown song in her language.

“~The ale wooud flow, the music played~!”

“~Wee dance ann sang, ower fears allayed~!”

“~Wiss comrades sstroo, side by side~!”

“~Wee reveled inna warrior’s pride~!”

“~Oh, wee'll raise ower cups, high in sheer~!”

“~Wiss songs uhf glory, loud ann clear~!”

“~Frum baddlefields t' the tavern's door, wee'll revel ann sin' f'revermore~!”

Watching on, The slack-jawed Luna stared in horror and shock at the scene while her sister sighed, shaking her head. “From what I was told, Storm Breakers caretaker orchestrated a small get-together that simply…got out of control.” Celestia said, putting it lightly. “It even spread to the nobles themselves; nearly all of our reserves of wine and cider are gone, and I’m sure there will be a ton of complaints in the morning.”

It was a shame Luna wasn’t around; and that she had to leave as soon as things were getting good to see her sister return.

“W-Why didn’t anypony try to stop her?!” Luna shouted, hooves tightly gripping the marble railing.

Celestia huffed, “For one, I doubt anypony other than us can handle Storm Breaker, let alone drunk. And two, you know how I am with these boring celebrations; oh, this reminds me of my student’s first galloping gala.” She said, thinking back to the night so chaotic discord would be jealous.

“Wait, you let this happen!” Pointing a hoof aggressively at Celestia, Luna’s brow and mouth both furrowed.

Letting out a loud groan, Luna ran up to the railing and jumped off, using her wings to glide down toward the dance floor. Landing, the lunar princess stomped directly to Storm Breaker, who slipped over a smeared cake and fell to the ground with a thud. Luna was uncaring for the groans coming out of the warrior mare as she closed the distance, using her armor to lift the heavy mare halfway up and close to her face.

“Speakth for thyself, ingrate!” Luna roared.

Instead of responding, the warrior mare’s head fell back limply, tongue sticking out of her mouth. “Ocean Splitter, δεν θέλω να κάνω την εκπαίδευσή σου! Τα μπροστινά μου πόδια εξακολουθούν να πονάνε! (Ocean Splitter, I don't want to do your training! My forelegs still hurt!).” She moaned.

Just before Luna’s palpable rage released itself onto the drunken Storm Breaker, Celestia’s magic wrapped around her, canceling it with a spell as she flew to meet here. And as the solar princess and warrior met the ground, the former rested a wing on her sister's back. “I think you and I had enough of one eventful night. Why don’t you relax for now and get some sleep; I’ll return her to her room-” She looked down at Storm Breaker,”-since Olive Branch lost to her.” The idea of somepony like Olive Branch getting out drunk was unimaginable until now.

The look on Luna’s face said she was departing whether or not to go against her sister’s word or not- but fortunately, Luna sighed and turned away from Storm Breaker. “Do as you wish, sister. We- I mean, I want to get some shut-eye before dealing with that mare’s consequences.” She said, unfurling her wings and taking off.

With a sigh, Celestia stole one last longing glance at Storm Breaker as her horn took on a bright, golden radiance. She surrounded the large mare in the same glow and, in a flash of light, traveled through the realm in between until both reappeared in Storm Breaker’s modified room.

A choking sound soon reached the solar princess, filling her with dread as she turned to a green-faced Storm Breaker, her cheeks bulging and her eye dilated.

In one swift motion, Celestia magically carried the warrior mare into the side-room bathroom and lifted the toilet seat before planting her sister’s sickened guardsmare in front of it. The following sounds of vomiting and belching churned Celestia’s magic as Storm Breaker desperately gripped the toilet sides for dear life. Once the plaguing smell of bile and rejected, rotten apples filled the sterilized bathroom air, Storm Breaker shakingly pushed herself away from the toilet, landing her back on the wall between the tub and vomit-filled toilet.

“Y-Y-You!” The warrior spat weakly, her eye finally landing on the alicorn standing over her.

Looking at the pitiful sight, Celestia dipped her head and sighed, “I… see you’re doing better.” She half joked, getting a bitter chuckle from the warrior as she raised her head.

“...Yeah,” The warrior mumbled, looking around her surroundings, “Where…a-am I?” She asked.

Reigniting her horn, Celestia levitated the warrior off the floor to move her just above the tub, making sure not to injure her when the warrior’s limp body sat inside the undersized tub. “Your room; Are you able to bathe yourself?” She said as her magic unbuckled the stained armor off the warrior.

The warrior, in turn, scoffed in offense, “Not… my mother. Can… bathe.” she replied. To try and back up her claim, the warrior groaned and grunted in strain, lifting her upper body toward the tub’s shower head nobs- one of the guards must have (reluctantly) taught her.

Of course, it failed, and the warrior fell back.

“Yourself?” Celestia finished, choosing to hold back a humored huff as The warrior glared at her, “Don’t worry, I had to take care of Twilight at some point early in her life. I know how to clean somepony.” She said, gripping the soap bottles in her magic.

In little time, the stench of the bathroom fell prey to the vicious clutches of lavender-scented soap, steam fogging the mirror as hot war rained down on the warrior form. As she said, Celestia found it hard not to reminisce of the times Night Light and Twilight Velvet would hoof over their daughter to her when they were busy- either for personal reasons or not. Shining Armor was still in the academy for guard training, and Luna hadn’t been around. So in times like these, Celestia lived up to her motherly prestige.

And like a young pony, Twilight hated the idea of bathing when she didn’t want to. Although, it wasn’t much of a challenge getting her to do so, if you had unrivaled magic and physical strength- her heart went out to all parents at those moments. Storm Breaker wasn’t too dissimilar, without the fighting and screaming of a foal and more glaring, judgmental gazes.

But as she continued to assist in cleaning the warrior’s physical appearance, she couldn’t avoid seeing them.

Scars.

Unlike the fresher and mending marks on her face and chest, the warrior’s frame decorated itself with ugly scars from multiple types of injuries. Some were minor cuts, while others showed to be the cause of spears, swords, arrows, and other weapons lost to the solar monarch. A few looked fatal; over the back and gut, these scars were as long as her lower foreleg and wide as her hoof- no regular pony could survive something like that. Not even she suffered such injuries in her many centuries of ruling Equestria.

The warrior… didn’t give a second glance at Celestia when she caught her, only giving an eye roll as a response. It was as if these scars were a part of her, in a metaphorical sense, like these grueling smears of healed flesh hid any possible conditions underneath. Did it hurt to move? Were any of her organs in constant pain?

“Maybe I should send a doctor to check on her later.” Celestia thought as her magic turned off the shower.

After a long process of pulling out and drying off the several thousand-pound mound of limp pony, Celestia helped the warrior back to her bed and placed her onto the mattress with a loud creak. The solar princess then pulled the covers over the warrior, who showed some kind of appreciation with a nod. But as Celestia started to retreat to the room’s door to attend to matters in the ballroom, she was stopped by Storm Breaker speaking.

“This…was your plan.” She said, catching Celestia off guard.

“Plan?” She echoed.

“You know… what I mean.”

Celestia turned back, looking at the bedridden warrior in silence for a second until she nodded. “Yes, you are correct, Storm Breaker. How did you know?” She said.

The warrior returned a low chuckle, “Your student is too chicken-shit to involve her precious leaders with somepony as scary as me, and your annoying sister and I aren’t on good terms enough for her to be willing to let me have this possession. So you or whatever little ankle biter you control came up with it. I just guessed from there.” She explained.

While the name-calling and rude tone were unneeded, Celestia nodded, “You guessed correctly. So, is there anything wrong with the decision I made?”

“Yeah… putting it lightly.” The warrior shrugged, “...why, though?” She added.

“Elaborate.” Celestia politely ordered.

The warrior scowled at the solar princess, then switched her eye to the bed covers. “Every one of your pathetic ponies and your sister would agree with me when I say I shouldn’t be here. It would be much easier to… banish me or end my life. But you didn’t. And I want to know why you keep me around… when I can easily escape if you gave me a reason to.”

“Then why don’t you escape?” Celestia retorted.

“To what?” The warrior said in a heavier tone, “I have nothing to my name now. This job isn’t mine, my caretaker, this room, the armor, none of it belongs to me. My comrades are nowhere to be found; even my title holds no merit here. I feel like I’m swimming in a river of needles every waking moment in a place I don’t want to belong.” She said.

With a frustrated snort, Celestia softly stomped a hoof into the carpeted floor. “This isn’t your time anymore; there isn’t a need to think of us as enemies!”

“Then why do you and other ponies look at me like I’m something to be disposed of?”

“Because they don’t understand!” Celestia said, voice raising in volume.

A chuckle escaped the warrior's throat as she shifted under the covers, “But you and your sister know. In spite of that, you foolishly keep me around; it’d be better to leave me to the wolves- at least, I’d fit right in.” She joked. “That’s what I don’t get about you ponies either. Your kindness is too much for somepony like me.”

Silence took hold of the room’s tension, magical candle flames flickering and letting the dark shadows of the room dance as Celestia digested the warrior's words.

She did agree that her ponies sometimes showed too much kindness, like Fluttershy. Her own goodwill did reach out to the warrior and her plight, but Celestia knew of her gruesome deeds; that is where her sympathy ended. The things she did were no doubt unimaginably evil and unforgivable.

Still…

“My father was a terrible stallion,” Celestia started, confusing the warrior, “he died around the time you did and the end of the war. When he was gone, and Luna and I began our journey to unify Equestria, I saw so many terrible things, all dealt with by his hoof. He commanded his armies with fear, killed ponies he deemed inferior, and hid it all from his family.” A grimace formed on her features, “I made it my life’s mission to repair everything he broke, and after centuries, I did. However, when I saw you that day, I could tell you were broken.”

Celestia walked closer to the warrior, watching her stunned face as she stood over her. “Truthfully, all I see when I look at you is a filly affected by my bastard father’s influence, turned into a monster by the rage and revenge he unintentionally planted.” Extending a wing, Celestia embraced the warrior in a hug. “No matter what it takes, you will see and live the peace my ponies experience. I will fix you.” She whispered into her ear.

The quiet duo remained in that position for the longest time, taking in each other's body heat. The backing up following what seemed like five minutes, Celestia tucked in her wing and backed up, examining the warrior’s unreadable, tired expression.

“Good luck with that.” The warrior mumbled, turning away from Celestia and pulling the covers over her.

Sighing in exhaustion, Celestia cast a final look of pity at the warrior before resuming her exit, soon closing the door behind her as she left.

Unbeknownst to the solar princess, the warrior’s body shudders violently as choked sobs and whimpers of confusion and pain barely escape her, tears soaking the pillowcases. Gripping the bed covers tightly and pulling them close to her mangled chest, the warrior’s conflicted mind wallowed in the memories and thoughts of near-endless gore, tragedy, loss, and bloodshed, all caused by her.

She spilled enemy blood. She was a proud monster. She was doing everything for a cause.

None of it was because of some random pony she hadn’t met! She wanted to eradicate the unicorns and pegasi like the beast they were of her own volition. They didn’t deserve to live after everything they did to her.

So why in Hades was she crying?!

…

Does a monster like her deserve peace?