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Mountain Men (Now with dialogue)
🕑 Added 2021-05-18 20:23:55 +0000 UTCworking on y'all requests rn, but here, have the story for this scene i only just finished. as always, your feedback is super appreciated!
~~~~~~~~
Blueblood watched his breath turn to vapor in the still, frigid air. “Temperature’s dropping again.”
“No shit.” Came an irritable reply. General Pharynx, Blueblood’s bodyguard, was busily dragging a wooden wagon wheel through the snow. The hub of the wheel was encrusted with a glittering golden star- and Blueblood realized it must be a piece- perhaps the very last piece- of the carriage that’d brought them here. Pharynx had salvaged it from the crash.
With a grunt, Pharynx tossed the wheel into Blueblood’s meek, flickering campfire, igniting it into a proper blaze. The careless destruction of royal property- his property- would’ve once rankled Blueblood, but in the face of such terrible, bone-chilling cold, he could only shuffle gratefully closer to the flames.
“Bet it’s another windigo.” Pharynx growled, his great, jewel-like eyes glittering in the low light. “....Or maybe a whole pack of em. Stalking us. Waiting for us to go to sleep.”
Blueblood surprised him with a low chuckle. “I very much doubt that, old chap. I can’t imagine any of the brutes would dare to get close again…..not after what you did to the last one, General.” Here Blueblood dipped a branch into the bubbling cooking pot, and stirred carefully. “....I still can’t wrap my mind around how you managed to eat an incorporeal wind monster.”
“Miserable parasites wanted t’make an easy meal outta us. I just showed em what a real parasite can do.” Pharynx’s lip curled in something like a smirk, showing off a set of vicious, curved fangs. Blueblood was at once uncomfortable. “Hope another one of em’ does show up.” The general continued, “....I’m starving.”
“Yes....well.” Blueblood said awkwardly, finally tearing his eyes away from the general’s fearsome jaws, “Ahem. No need for further brutality, dear fellow.” With a flare of his horn, Blueblood ladled them both out a steaming bowl of stew, then proffered one to his companion. “Certainly this tastes better than windigo flesh.”
For a moment, Pharynx blinked down at the hearty mix of wild potatoes, burdock, and dandelion shoots, before his features twisted into a scowl. “....I can’t eat this.”
“Now, now, it may not be much in the way of sustenance, but surely it’ll warm you up, at least?” Blueblood sipped delicately at his own bowl. “Beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes.”
“You don’t get it, do you, pretty boy?” Pharynx sneered, “The only thing that can keep a changeling alive is-”
“Love. Yes, I’m aware, general.” Blueblood said boredly, “I’m also aware that changelings possess a rather thin exoskeleton, and lack the proper circulatory system to survive long in the cold.” He looked pointedly in Pharynx’s direction, where the general was trying and failing to conceal how badly he was shivering. “ Surely even your insect brain can understand this- it’s the soup, or nothing.”
“Not nothing, Blueballs.” With a growl, Pharynx rubbed his forelegs together like a cricket, trying to conjure a morsel of heat into his half-frozen limbs. His mandibles split into a mocking smile, teeth gleaming in the firelight. “....I could always just drain you, couldn’t I? Just like I did the windigo. Your sorry hide would be even less of a mouthful, but it’d be enough to get me back to civilization, at least. Can’t imagine you’d be badly missed in Canterlot.” Here he paused, savouring his partner’s cold glare. “....Can’t imagine they’re missin’ you too badly at all, actually.”
“General, I’ll remind you that I am still your superior-”
“What’s the matter, your highness? Sore subject?” Pharynx cackled- an unsettling sound against the silence of the snow. “Think about it, pony boy. It’s been days since those bandits ambushed our caravan. Ain’t it funny we haven’t seen hide or hair of a search party since then? Maybe yer old Auntie Celestia figured it wasn’t worth the effort. Maybe she figured you weren’t worth th-umph!”
Blueblood had taken the opportunity to shove a spoonful of soup into the general’s open mouth. “As I said, it’s soup or nothing, general.” He said firmly, levitating another spoonful, “Now shall you eat like a reasonable member of society, or shall I have to feed you like a foal?”
Pharynx gaped at him, eyes wide with fury and indignance. For a moment he bristled, perhaps considering violent retribution- then seemed to think better of it. He slumped down in a sulk, face flushing green. “....I can feed myself just fine, jackass.”
“Good lad.”
For a time they sat together, the surly silence broken only by the crackle of the fire, and the scraping of spoons against bowls. The stew provided no relief to Pharynx’s hunger, but it did, as Blueblood had promised, leave a pleasant warmth in his gut. It was enough to cut through the misery of the biting cold air, if only for a few moments.
“....If it’s love that keeps you alive, then who exactly were you feeding off back in Canterlot?” Blueblood asked suddenly. “You’ll have to forgive me, dear general, but I can’t imagine you were especially popular with the fairer sex back home.”
“Ass.” Pharynx scoffed, rolling his eyes. “If you really knew as much about changelings as you say, you’d know my brother permanently changed the way the hive feeds. We don’t have to disguise ourselves and leech off some stupid love-sick pony anymore. Now, changelings can just love each other, and receive love in turn, and it’s enough to keep us alive. I think that snooty purple princess coined a name for it…...Symbiosis, if I’m rememberin’ right.”
“....Yes, I seem to recall Princess Twilight publishing a paper on the subject. Trying to convince the nobles your species wouldn’t steal away their children in the night. I dismissed it at the time, of course, I’m afraid you’ll find my peers still remember the changeling attack on Canterlot quite well.” Blueblood said loftily. His mouth pulled into a thin smirk. “Still, how very unexpectedly sweet. So, old boy, which changeling was tasked with the demanding task of loving you?”
At once, Pharynx’s eyes narrowed into slits. “What’s it to you, anyway?”
“Merely making conversation.” Blueblood shrugged. “In case you couldn’t tell, there’s not much else to do out here. Perhaps it’s still foreign to your kind, but ponies call it being friendly.”
“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot- you little ponies still think you invented friendship.” Pharynx mocked. “Us changelings are just too stupid and evil to grasp the concept, right? Well, for your information, nobody’s tasked with carin’ about me back home. They do it by choice, and that’s more than anybody can say for your smug, spoiled ass.”
“Yes, yes, of course, darling general.” Blueblood said indulgently, quite enjoying how riled up Pharynx was growing, “Pray tell, who is this magical changeling that loves you by choice?”
“My brother, Thorax-” Pharynx surged forward, defensive and bristling- before he abruptly froze, uncertain if he was sharing too much information. After a moment, he shook his head, deciding he didn’t care what the duke thought of him anyhow. “...My brother, jackass. He may be a weakling, but I trust him with my life. I’ve watched out for him ever since we were hatchlings- and since I take care of Thorax, he takes care of me.”
The sudden surly honesty was enough to give Blueblood pause. “....And that’s enough for you?” He queried softly, “The bond between you and your brother?”
“It would’ve been enough for me.” Pharynx muttered, crossing his forelegs. “But then the Queen figured I’d be useful playin’ babysitter to one of her defective grubs. So now I got this brat- Ocellus- that follows me around and calls me Dad. She’s just as soft-headed and annoying as my brother- but lucky for me, she’s got enough lovey-dovey nonsense in her to power a whole army of changelings.”
Blueblood smiled, far less smug this time. “Goodness, general, I would’ve never expected you to be such a family man.”
Pharynx snorted, a curious flush coming to his cheeks. “Changelings don’t do ‘family’. I provide a service, and they provide me with food.”
“Funny, I would think ‘symbiosis’ would mean they love you, and in turn, you lov-”
“Shut it.”
Blueblood was silent for about a minute. Snow had begun to fall.
“....I hope we happen upon an outpost soon.” He said quietly, “I’d like to mail a letter to my own daughter.”
Pharynx blinked at him, muzzle crinkling in confusion. “Your file didn’t mention you had a kid.”
“No, dear boy, I doubt it would.” Blueblood let out a low chuckle, but the sound was devoid of warmth. He rummaged in his coat pocket, producing a neatly folded white square. Carefully, he unfolded it to show Pharynx. “....And yet.”
It was a photograph of a white unicorn mare, her coral mane drawn up in a tight bun. She was gazing back over her shoulder, blue eyes looking rather unhappily at whoever had taken the photo.
“Uh.” Pharynx ventured awkwardly, uncertain how to navigate the realm of small talk. “She’s got your…..frown.”
“That she does.” Blueblood nodded, corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. “Vogue has always been discontent at home in Canterlot- though not for the same reasons as myself. She’s caught up in the injustice of it all, the disparity of wealth, the homogeneity of the populace. Did you know she started a diversity initiative in her modelling agency? Have you heard of her fashion magazine, Grande Dame?”
“Y’know, I’m not really the fashionista type.”
Blueblood ignored the dry remark. “Well, open up any page of it and you’ll see a changeling- or a yak- or hippogriff- dressed in the very finest silk and satin. It’s caused quite the ruckus in the fashion world.” He shook his head, but a fond smile didn’t leave his face. “....She reminds me of myself at her age. Still believing I had the power to change the world for the better.”
Pharynx regarded him with a flat look. “...Aren’t you royalty?”
Blueblood’s ears pricked at that, and his smile flickered and died. He rose to his hooves, and dusted the snow from his coat. “We should settle in for the night. A storm is coming.”
Pharynx startled upright, familiar anger blazing to life in his belly. “But we’ve barely covered a mile! How’re we supposed to make it back alive if you keep insistin’ we travel at a goddamn snail’s pace?”
Blueblood inhaled sharply. “I’m simply being careful, general.”
“Bullshit!” Pharynx snapped, “This is hardly the first time you’ve wanted to set up camp early so you could stargaze, or whittle wood, or- or- fucking moisturize your prissy pony mane!” He stomped closer, nearly snout to snout with the duke. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t want to go home.”
Blueblood faltered- for one beat, then two. Pharynx’s eyes went wide in realization.
“No.”
“N-Now now, General-” Blueblood hastily began, “Is it truly so terrible out here? Living off the land, travelling by the stars, just as our ancestors once did? You can’t tell me this doesn’t sate some deep, primal call within you- you can’t tell me you honestly don’t prefer this to living with ponies-”
“...I can’t believe this.” Pharynx had begun to laugh- a curious, wheezy sound, as if he’d never done it before. “I can’t fucking believe this.”
Blueblood gazed at him, hurt. “....You think I’ve been wasting time, but I assure you I haven’t, general. I’ve been drawing maps.” He gestured to his flank, where his cutie mark- the golden compass rose- lay emblazoned. “This land has been uncharted for centuries, old chap, but the divine will of fate has led us here- to pin this wasteland down, pencil stroke by pencil stroke. To learn the land, to catalogue the species, to brave the dangers- it’s an honest and true adventure, general! The kind I was always destined to have!” He stomped a hoof down in the snow with a desperate sort of finality.
It was too much. “...So let me get this straight.” The barrel of Pharynx’s chest was heaving, threatening a truly thunderous rage. When he spoke, his voice flooded with volume, a great and terrible roar that reverberated across the snowscape. “You’ve been deliberately slowing our progress- so you could roleplay being some old-time explorer?”
Blueblood cringed at the show of fury, ears pinning back. “....It’s not roleplay.” He insisted- meekly. “...It’s who I am. Who I’ve always meant to be. Out here- away from Canterlot- there’s no alcohol, no mares, no vice, no distractions. All my wealth and prestige means nothing out here. Out here, I can simply be a pony- I can finally be...just…” Blueblood faltered, trying for a smile. “....Just me.”
“You ignorant, corn-fed, silver-spoon little grub.” Pharynx hissed, eyes blazing like coals fresh from a fire. “You’re still as spoiled as the day you left Canterlot- even if you’re too stupid to see it. You think your ‘ancestors’ had Yakyanistan designer coats?” Pharynx shoved his hoof hard against Blueblood’s chest, getting dirt on the plush, glossy fur of Blueblood’s coat. “You think this is some sorta noble expedition? This might as well be a goddamned pleasure cruise for you! The only reason you’re enjoyin’ your time out here- the only reason you’re not as miserable as me- is exactly because of all that Canterlot privilege you keep whinin’ about! We might’ve lost the fucking golden carriage we came here in, but you still have warm clothes, ample food and supplies, and me to protect your worthless hide. You wouldn’t be fawnin’ over nature and destiny if you knew what it was really like to be cold and hungry.”
“General, I wouldn’t exactly call our rations five-star dining-”
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Pharynx’s mandibles erupted from his jaw, clicking and buzzing in a horrid show of alien noise. “I meant real hunger.” The general’s voice was a dangerous hiss. “Like a knife in your belly.”
As he spoke, his great jaws began to drip with a mix of saliva and venom. Droplets fell to the snow, bright blue against white.
“An ache that sinks claws into your soul and never fucking lets go.”
Blueblood began to feel afraid. “General Pharynx?” He tried, hating how shaky he sounded to his own ears, “....Are you quite alright?”
Pharynx laughed again- a truly monstrous sight now that his mandibles were free- and shook his head. “Am I alright, he asks.” Chuckling quietly, he turning intense eyes once more upon Blueblood, “Why no, your majesty. I am not alright.” He said lightly, almost pleasantly, before his features twisted into a snarl. “I’ve only been starving to death so some idiot could traipse around in snow country! I’m never going to see the Queen or my brother or my goddamned daughter ever again, all because I trusted that you knew what you were doing!”
The words tumbled around in Blueblood’s mind, colliding and echoing, not making sense. “...Starving?” He repeated, knitting his brow. “But I thought the windigo-”
“You really do know nothing, little pony…..How much love do you think is inside a monster that feeds on hate?”
“I-”
Pharynx lunged forward, tackling Blueblood into the snow. Blueblood landed hard, the wind knocked out of his lungs- but before he could hope to gulp down a breath of air, he felt the press of sharp pincers, digging softly into the flesh of his throat.
“I should drain you into an empty husk.” Pharynx hissed. “At least then your miserable life would’ve had some use.”
The pincers tightened, scoring harsh lines into Blueblood’s throat, and the unicorn's eyes went wide with terror- before, quite suddenly, the pressure vanished.
“...But there wouldn’t be any point.” Pharynx said softly, almost as if talking to himself. “The measly scraps of love in your bitter, cowardly old heart wouldn’t be enough to sustain me, not enough to make it back to civilization. I’m dead no matter what I do.”
“General, please-”
“So I’m gonna do what I should’ve done from the beginning.” Pharynx folded his pincers back into his mouth, then fixed Blueblood with a smile that was equal part contemptuous and sad. “....And that’s leavin’ your sorry carcass for the birds.”
He stood.
“Pharynx-” Blueblood scrambled, reaching out desperately, “Pharynx, wait-”
But Pharynx was gone, swallowed by a sea of endless white.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Off the top of his head, Vladimir Blueblood could name a dozen explorers that’d dared brave the legendary blizzards of the Frozen North. They’d all died in increasingly horrible ways, and this prickled at the back of Blueblood’s mind as he crunched through the snow. He’d never find Pharynx in a raging snowstorm. The sensible thing to do would be to abandon this fool’s errand, hunker down, and try to make it back to Equestria on his own.
But then Pharynx would almost certainly die. Blueblood knew, with more certainty than he’d ever felt in his life, that he couldn’t allow that to happen.
So he ignored the burn of exhaustion in his muscles, ignored the freezing wind that lashed at his body, ignored the numbness that’d crept into his limbs. Blueblood ran- blind in the whirling snow, savaged by brambles, slipping on treacherous, ice-slick rocks. He ran- bravely, foolishly, bellowing a name into the wind- until finally, with a startled shout, the ground collapsed from under his hooves.
He’d fallen into a den of some sort, a burrow carved out by some creature. In the darkness, he felt despair wash over him- the suffocating weight of his lifetime of pointless frivolity, his failure to locate Pharynx, and now the knowledge that he was going to die alone in a frozen wasteland, forgotten, a footnote in Equestrian history.
Blueblood felt something warm trickle down his cheek. “...Pharynx.”
“By the Queen, I can’t even die in peace, can I?”
A familiar, irritable voice spoke within the burrow. Blueblood startled, scrambling to light his horn- and through the dark, he could make a familiar, surly set of violet eyes.
Hope sprang forward in Blueblood’s heart, at the very same instant he cuffed Pharynx- hard- against the head.
“You stupid- overgrown- beetle!” Blueblood raged. “Hasn’t anypony ever warned you never to run off alone in a storm? You could’ve frozen to death!”
Pharynx hissed, rubbing at his sore forehead. “....That’s the idea, genius.” The general tucked his legs underneath himself, as though readying for bed. “Got tired of delayin’ the inevitable.”
The changeling’s eyes were dull, and he’d stopped shivering. Blueblood desperately tried to think of something brave to say, something that could inspire hope in the darkest of times, much like how his aunt Celestia dispelled shadows with the light of her sun- but decades of speech expertise failed him when he saw Pharynx’s eyes beginning to slide shut.
Madly, he decided to goad. “So this is how it ends, hmm? At the first sign of trouble, Chrysalis’ best soldier simply rolls over and dies?”
“Watch it. I’m not so far gone I can’t make you eat that coat.” Pharynx warned. But his eyes were a shade brighter now, glittering with annoyance. It was enough to give Blueblood hope.
“You may have given up, general, but I haven’t.” Blueblood ventured, “I won’t. I owe you my life, Pharynx, and such debts are not taken lightly by royals. It was you who started our first fire, you who dug our first snow shelter, you who recovered the wreckage of our carriage.” The unicorn admitted, heaving a weary sigh. “....I’m just the fool who led a gold-plated carriage through bandit country.”
Pharynx snorted, perking up. “You’re givin’ yourself too little credit, your highness. You also almost got us crushed in an icefall, and nearly had us fall to our deaths from atop a glacier.”
“Yes.” Blueblood agreed, surprising the general. “...You were right, old chap.” Blueblood gave a thin, tired smile. “I have been a tourist playing at being an adventurer.”
Pharynx hadn’t been expecting this abrupt honesty, and his sarcastic retort died on his tongue. “Uh….” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I mean, yeah, but you weren’t too awful at it. You did alright navigating, for a pampered Canterlot richboy. I figured you’d be a pile of bleached bones by now.”
Somehow, his words failed to cheer up the duke. “....Yes, I’m a very skilled navigator- I’ve studied every map I could get my hooves on since I was a colt. Such a skilled navigator, in fact, that I deliberately prolonged our journey home. I didn’t want to go back to Canterlot, General.” Blueblood breathed softly, his gaze on his hooves. “.....There’s no place for me there.”
“Blueballs-”
“Please, I’m not asking you to understand, Pharynx. Just humor an old fool, won’t you?” Blueblood patted Pharynx’s hoof with his own, an oddly aloof gesture. “...Where was I? Ah, yes- in Canterlot, you’ll understand, I’m just another member of the bloated elite, born into a fortune I’ve done nothing to deserve, owner of a meaningless title, forever trying to fill the void with-”
“Blueblood-”
“Now don’t interrupt, old sport, I’m trying to apologize. As I was saying, I was so eager to throw away my old life that I didn’t realize I was also throwing away your-”
“Blueblood!”
“Yes, what?” Blueblood snapped. “What’s so important you insist on interrupting my heartfelt speech, general?”
“Well, besides the fact that it’s boring me to tears-” That earned Pharynx an outraged look, and he snickered, “I was gonna say…..I get it. What you said. About, uh, not havin’ a place in Canterlot. I get it.”
Blueblood blinked at him, stunned. “....You do?”,
“Yeah.” Pharynx sighed, though it was more frustrated than resigned. “Your precious nobles all think I’m a monster. Not that I need approval from a bunch of snot-nosed aristocrats, but even among my own kind, I’m a relic. Changelings are supposed to be friendly now, sweet and docile, just like you ponies. I used to be the strongest, fiercest warrior in the whole hive- but now we’re in peacetime, and there’s no place for someone like me. All I am is a reminder of our violent past- the same past every changeling wants swept under the rug.”
“...Oh.” Blueblood breathed. “General, I…...I had no idea.”
“Tch, I’m not lookin’ for pity.” Pharynx scoffed, lifting his chin arrogantly. “I told you already, I’ve got the Queen, Thorax, and Ocellus, and that’s enough for me. Canterlot will never be my home, but I stay anyway, because I can’t bail on my responsibilities…...or my family.”
Blueblood felt shame lick his gut. “.....For what it’s worth, I don't think you’re a monster, Pharynx. You’re a better pony than I, by far.”
“Damn straight.” Pharynx said. He leaned into Blueblood’s space, his eyes bright and challenging. “And it’ll stay that way until you quit running away, Blue.”
Blueblood bit his lip, mulling Pharynx’s words over. “.....General, I believe it’s time we went home.”
Pharynx opened his mouth to snap a dry remark, but froze at the sight of Blueblood- incredibly stupidly- removing his coat in subzero weather. The unicorn then draped the coat across them both, edging close so the material could blanket both their bodies.
“W-What are you doing?”
To Pharynx’s shock and sputtering indignation, Blueblood then had the audacity to lay his head across Pharynx’s neck. “Sharing body heat, of course. I shan’t be the one to tell Chrysalis I let her finest soldier freeze to death on my watch.”
One one hoof, Pharynx was furious at the presumptuous breach of space- but on the other hoof…..he could sorely, begrudgingly concede that this felt rather nice. The warmth and weight of the unicorn felt like stepping into a hot bath. To his utter indignance, much like a newborn grub, Pharynx felt himself reflexively growing sleepy.
“....If you tell a single pony about this, I’ll rip off your horn.”
“Oh relax, General. You can sleep with your precious changeling pride intact.” Blueblood pricked his ears, listening to the storm outside the cavern. “....Several accounts from Starswirl the Bearded mention changelings being able to digest certain kinds of nectar. As soon as there’s a break in the storm, I’ll venture out and scout for vegetation-“
Pharynx blinked- then let out a dry, wheezy chuckle. “You’re seriously gonna chance gettin’ ripped apart by windigos just to find a pretty flower for me to eat?”
“Yes.” Blueblood said. “What’s the alternative, Pharynx? Letting you starve? Like it or not, dear general, we’re a team. If I have to suffer back in Canterlot, then so do you.”
Blueblood was looking at him now, blue eyes so painfully soft and earnest, as though he wholeheartedly believed the words coming out of his mouth. It was enough to make Pharynx’s dry comeback evaporate on his tongue, and he was mortified to feel a flush of heat across his face. “...Uh. That….um, that won’t be necessary-“
“Oh stow the machismo for just a moment, General-“
“I meant this is enough, you clown.” Pharynx snapped, but there was no real bite to it. “....This.” He shifted a little against Blueblood. “The, uh, proximity. And your uh….not-completely-laughable attempt at camaraderie. It’s not exactly love, but I can feed off it okay.”
“Oh. I see.” Blueblood cleared his throat, now looking quite awkward himself. “How does that work?”
“My horn acts like a beacon.” Pharynx said gruffly. “It draws in any energy even remotely resembling love. Fond words, encouragement, affection-“
He was interrupted by Blueblood suddenly leaning close- too close- so that their horns rested against one another. “Does this help?”
Every instinct screamed at Pharynx to leap back, to snarl, to strike back this pony that dared to touch him with such impunity- but caught sight of Blueblood’s face, earnest and just a little awkward- so very unlike the smarmy royal he’d met back in Canterlot. Duke Vladimir Blueblood, of all ponies, had dropped the veneer of sneering superiority to try to be a friend, to sustain Pharynx with his very energy. Not for accolades, not out of pity, not to try to gain anything from Pharynx- he was simply here, nuzzling horns with a changeling- and for the first time in his life, Pharynx found himself at a complete loss.
“....Um. Yeah.” Pharynx mumbled finally, “That actually helps a lot, Blue.”
Blueblood smiled. “....You have wonderful eyes, General.”
“Ach-!” Pharynx jerked away at once, flushing fluorescent green. “Don’t say sappy shit like that, you goddamn-!”
“You just said changelings could feed off affectionate words.” Blueblood rolled his eyes. “...Though I suppose I should’ve expected you’d be allergic to them.”
“That’s not- I’m not-! I-I just- I don’t need your fake Canterlot compliments to survive!” Pharynx finally landed on, furiously trying to will away the heat in his cheeks.
“We’re not in Canterlot anymore, General.” Blueblood heaved a tired sigh. “There’s no reason to fake anything. Not out here.”
Pharynx’s ears slicked back, and he glanced away. “Still….you, uh….you don’t need to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake.”
The duke’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners, amused and wistful all at once. “...Who says I’m uncomfortable?”
Silence fell, heavy with meaning, and not for the first time, Pharynx's abdomen gave a mad spasm. "Uh...."
Blueblood chuckled, the sound soft and gentle. "You're much less scary when you're flustered, General." Impulsively, fondly- just a little stupidly, he reached out a hoof to brush against Pharynx’s cheek. “....You know, it's funny....In my youth, I seem to recall quite liking bugs.”
“Uh.” There was no hiding Pharynx’s blush now. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish. “I….I, uh…”
“Go to sleep, General.” Blueblood lit his horn once more, tugging his coat tighter around them both. “There’s much to be done tomorrow- much that I have to do. On my honor as Grand Duke of Canterlot, I’m going to get you back home to your family.” In contrast to his arrogant wording, Blueblood’s tone was soft, like a parent trying to assure a lost foal. “...Back to your daughter.”
"Hmph." Pharynx snorted, then grew quiet for a long moment. “....Then I’ll get you back home to yours.”
“Ah.” Blueblood winced at that, before his expression twisted into something pained- mournful. “About that. I’m sorry, I’ve…..I’m afraid I’ve misled you, General. My daughter doesn’t want anything to do with me. I haven’t been the best father, you see.”
“My brother says it’s never too late to change.” Pharynx offered gruffly, “....You’re already actin’ a lot different from that pompous asshat I met back in Canterlot.”
“Yes. But it’s easy out here.” Blueblood frowned, worrying his lower lip. “Out here, there are no nobles looking to me to set an example, no wine to tempt me, no empty castle to return to each night. What hope is there that things will work out in Canterlot? What if I slip back into my old life, become the old Blueblood?”
“I think you can be halfway decent when you stop sneerin’ down your muzzle at folks and start treatin’ em as equals.” Pharynx yawned, eyes slipping shut. “Just keep it up, moron. Your daughter will like the new you just fine.” He burrowed close, then mumbled something Blueblood had to swivel his ears to catch. “....I do.”
Blueblood’s breath caught in his chest. The words, gruff but genuine, echoed in his head.
I do.
Watching the soft rise and fall of the general’s bony chest, a peculiar feeling washed over Blueblood. Despite the roaring blizzard outside, despite the cold-blooded body pressed against him- Blueblood felt warm. Perhaps the warmest he’d been in a good, long while. Touching his pink face, he felt remarkably foolish- yet also, somehow, assured.
Symbiosis, Blueblood marveled to himself, before he curled up around Pharynx and surrendered to peaceful sleep.
~~~~~~~~
y'all are both too damn old to be this tsundere
Comments
forthehonor-ofgayskull
ahhhhh this was so sweet I love it
Colbyr
*drags up ur old unicorn headcanon post from DA* "unicorns tap their horns together as a show of trust and affection".... HMMMM??? me smells an idiots-to-lovers development and I'm living for it
Beatleboy62
I absolutely loved this
TheTabbyBadger
Awww, this was really sweet! I like the direction their characters are going and I’m especially interested to see Blueblood’s growth!
Jam Gram
yes...crabby unlikable mountain men Romance, the best kind 🤩
Calypso
Oh my goddd that was some fine writing!!
Calvin Sewell
This is dangerously cute
Doxiedreg
This was so well written! This warmed my heart, it was so wholesome
