Chapter Fifty Three

A Kingly Gift

The sun rose slowly that early morning, the rays shining for the first time in days. The clouds had long since dispersed after the storm the night before, and now, in the morning chill, the mist began to dissipate.

Rising from under a dry spot in the clearing, the tree branches above having sheltered him from the majority of the rain, a lone guard stood, every muscle in his body aching. Near him, several other guards rose, their injuries no more severe than his own. Others, however, were unable to rise, as they were far too injured to do so. Acting almost on pure instinct, the few guards that were able to even steadily stand went around and supported their brethren as they were all moved near a large, drier area underneath the brambles.

“The duchess; has anypony seen her?” one of the standing guards asked, one of his arms hanging at his side, still numb from the attack the night before.

“I saw her go with Bakhtak after the creature,” one of the two captains said, the other trying to attend to his comrade’s wounds even as he remained swollen and bruised from his savage beating. “We must make all haste to find her.”

Taking four of the few guards that remained standing, and ordering the rest to assist the other captain with their comrades, the captain slowly worked his way through the brambles, noting spots where there was debris that hadn’t been there when they arrived. Of course, the obvious clue to that was apparent as soon as they exited the thick brambles and found themselves face to face with a collapsed windmill.

“They might be inside,” one of the guards said, half of his face swollen to an almost unrecognizable state. “You think they’re still alive?”

“Your highness!” the captain called, carefully climbing the ruins and listening intently for a reply. “Your highness, are you in there?”

“Captain!” a muffled voice replied, buried deep beneath the rubble. “We are trapped in a compacted room with a small air flow from the north side. See if you can work your way to us through there.”

“Come on lads, you heard her; dig!”

From beneath the rubble, two pairs of eyes opened, blinking in the dark, cramped space they were confined to. Above them, they could hear two others moving around, or trying to, and from above that, seemingly far away, voices and the sounds of digging and debris being removed.

“Well, we’re not dead,” Ebony said.

“No, but you look halfway there,” Bakhtak replied.

“I feel more than that,” the batpony replied. “Do I really look so bad?”

“I’m surprised you can see me through those swollen eyelids of yours,” she replied. “Anything broken?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, that’s a start, at least.”

The two simply looked at one another as they could hear the sounds above them continue. “Tell me, Bakhtak, why?” the batpony asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me?”

She blinked a few times in silence. “I was… I was told by Lady Fyrefly to come save you and, if possible, stop her sister from drinking the dragon’s blood.”

Even though his lips were as bruised as the rest of his face, Ebony Blade tsked at her reply. “Bakhtak, you know as well as I do that she told you no such thing. I was still conscious when you came and drove off the vampire. The duchess appeared several minutes after that, which meant you came here in all haste, rather than stay by her side until she arrived. Now, if you did come here as fast as you could, without having been told to, then why would you?”

“I… I had to stop the vampire,” she said softly.

“From drinking Spike’s blood, I would hope,” he said. “Or was it to save his life?”

She simply gave a noncommittal grunt.

He sighed, knowing he should have seen the signs sooner. “Do you love him?”

Her eyes zeroed in on his own, shock filling her face. “What?”

“Do you love him?” Ebony asked again. “I’ll admit, he is a very fine catch, much like I imagine I was back in the day. He’ll be good for you, you know; young, filled with life, and very long-lived, so that he won’t leave you lonely early in your lifetime. Plus, I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind you joining his herd, especially Asalah. You can go with him, if you-,”

“Ebony, shut up,” she said, a blush creeping over her face.

“What? I was just freeing you of your oath to me,” he said, surprised at her defensiveness.

“And what if I don’t want to be free of that oath?” she asked.

“Well, then, how would you go with him if you were stuck here? I mean, he’s not staying here, and if you did, that’d be really weird, don’t you think?”

“I’m not going with him; I’m staying here, in Transylmania,” Bakhtak said simply.

“A long distance relationship, eh? Well, it could work, seeing as eventually my oath would be no more and you could move on to his greener pastures-,”

“Ebony, I don’t love Spike,” the Nightmare replied.

“You don’t?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“No, I never said I loved him,” she said, wondering if the batpony in her arms was suffering from a concussion. “I like him; he’s a swell dragon and a very loving husband, from what I’ve been told, but I don’t feel anything like that for him. I love... another,” she added, pointedly at that. “One much closer to home.”

“Oh, I see,” the batpony said. “Does... does the duchess know?”

“In all likelihood, no, she does not.”

“Well then, why don’t you tell her? Surely it wouldn’t be that hard to just talk to her?”

“I’m not sure how she would react, though I’m sure she would take the news with as much grace as she could. Her feelings on the matter may be conflicted, for all I know, and besides, I’m still trying to figure out what I’m feeling myself.”

“Grace? Bakhtak, you shouldn’t feel like she’d reject you on the spot. I’m sure the duchess is more than capable of accepting how you feel about her, and-,”

Bakhtak blinked in confusion.

“What? No!” the Nightmare said, suddenly realizing what the mercenary was talking about. “No, I don’t love the duchess either!”

“What? Then why would you be worried about how she would react? Is it one of her guards? I thought that captain Chiro fellow was married, but maybe one of his brothers is single?”

“No!”

“Is it one of those visiting dignitaries she often has from other duchies? You know, from near the capital?”

“Wha- no, no you idiot!” She was fed up with this nonsense. “I love you.”

Even as confusion filled his painfully-swollen features, Ebony watched, almost helplessly, as the Nightmare descended upon him and planted her lips softly, yet firmly, against his own. On instinct, and somewhat against his body’s pain, his free hand traveled up and gently cupped her face as they kissed.

Breaking apart, she looked him in the eyes, tears brimming in the edges as she slowly caressed his face.

“It’s you, Ebony Blade,” she said softly, choking back a small, happy sob. “It is you that I love... not the duchess, not a dignitary, not a guard or Spike the dragon; you, and only you.”

Staring blankly at her smiling face, Ebony felt… strange. Something was rising to his head from a very lonely place within his body; his heart. It was… it was telling him something, something he had long thought he’d never experience again.

He felt the same way. Surprise surprise, it had taken five visitors, a rogue vampire, a bare-knuckle brawl that beat him to a pulp and a collapsing windmill to make him realize it, but... he loved her too. She had been there for him for so many years, rarely if ever complaining, always willing to lend some advice or assist him with anything he asked. She was a godsend for keeping the house in good working order when he was away, and was an absolute treasure for his guests, yet she asked for so little, managed to be so fine with so few accommodations. She worried for him when he was in trouble, usually knew what to say to make him feel better, and just seemed to bring out the best in him…

“Me... me too, I guess,” he whispered back.

“You guess?” she replied, eyebrow raised.

“I... I know,” he said.

“Know what?”

“I feel the same way, Bakhtak.”

“Feel the same what?” She asked. “Say it.”

“I... I love you too, Bakhtak,” he replied.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” she whispered, recapturing his lips as she gently, tenderly, lovingly pulled him close. His own hands, where they could, pulled her closer to him, rubbing gently up and down her back, fingers trailing over the scars she had so recently acquired the night before.

“Ahem.”

The two broke apart to see Lady Fyrefly and Spike looking down at them in shock, with several guards tactfully looking in the opposite direction. It would seem they had been dug out.

“So… you two mind telling me what’s going on?” Fyrefly asked, a small grin spreading across her face. Behind her, the dragon just looked confused, though the knowing look in his eyes spoke wonders.

“Um…” the pair said in unison, glancing back at one another. “It’s a long story.”

“Then fill us in when we get back to your place,” the duchess said. “My men need food and somewhere to rest until we can get them to a doctor to check their injuries.” As if to agree, several of the guards being supported by their comrades let out groans of pain.

“I’ll carry you,” Bakhtak whispered to the mercenary as they slowly climbed their way from the excavated debris.

“Okay.”

Later…

Queen Chrysalis awoke with a slight jump at the sound of a door opening, accompanied by the lighter sounds of many hooves trodding down in the main hall while the others still slept around her, still exhausted from the stressful night before. Rising slowly and readying her magic, she heard several steps approaching the room. Bracing herself, with her magic at the ready, she watched as the door opened and in stepped...

“Hey, Chrissy, are you up? Sorry if we woke you, I just-,”

“WHERE the FUCK have you BEEN?!” The queen screeched, rushing him and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt with a strength the dragon didn’t know she possessed, lifting him clear off the floor, holding him slightly above her as she ferociously scowled at him. “Do you have ANY idea how WORRIED we’ve been about you?”

“I’m... sorry?” Spike weakly replied as the others jolted awake behind her.

“DAMN RIGHT you’re sorry!” Chrysalis shouted, her harsh expression immediately turning soft, so rapidly and so abruptly that her husband thought her facial muscles failed. Now, instead of a scowl, she had an expression of tender concern. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

“Um... no, the vampire... she didn’t get the chance,” he meekly replied as he was lowered back down to the ground, only to get immediately tackled by his three other wives.

“What do you mean she didn’t get the chance?” Maria asked as she checked her husband over for injuries. Other than some dust and dirt on his clothes, he more or less seemed fine to her.

“I mean, I think so; I was pretty out of it most of the time, but from what the others said, Bakhtak came in and fought her off. I mean, I think they said she killed the vampire, which somehow caused the whole place to collapse, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a cramped space with the duchess. We’re lucky we weren’t crushed; just another foot or two and we would have been flatter than pancakes.”

“Wait, so, you guys were in a windmill?” Trixie asked.

“And it collapsed?” Chrysalis repeated.

“You were in a tight, confined space with the duchess all night?” Asalah asked, her voice becoming... edgy.

“Well, yeah. The vampire put a spell on me so that everypony looked like you, Asalah,” he replied, hoping to defuse the potentially dangerous situation before his family tried to murder the duchess. “Well, except for Bakhtak; she looked herself. Apparently Bathory did the same kind of thing to Lady Fyrefly, where everypony looked like Ebony Blade, even me. Although, I don’t remember most of what happened after I was taken, and she doesn’t either after the whole “spell” thing was put on her.”

“So, neither of you remember what happened whilst you were in that room together?” Trixie repeated.

“No, but from what I can tell, nothing did happen,” the dragon said simply. “I think we both passed out after the collapse, either from a side effect from the spell, or maybe exhaustion?”

“Exhausted? What would the duchess have to be exhausted about?” Chrysalis queried.

“I heard she got beaten up pretty badly by her sister before the spell was placed on her,” Spike muttered. “She looked bad, too; really torn up, both outside and in. Must have been one nasty talk during the fight; I think I saw her cry when they found her sister’s body under the rubble, or, what was left of it.”

“So they dug out the vampire’s corpse?” Asalah asked. “What did they do with it?”

“Burned it,” he replied as he saw another figure stirring behind them. “Wasn’t in good shape, judging from the blood everywhere. All I know is, Bathory is dead for sure.”

“How are you holding up?” Eutropia asked from behind the dragon’ wives, looking more tired than the others. She must have stayed up longer than the rest of them.

“Pretty good, all things considered, what with a vampiric abduction and a windmill collapse,” Spike said with a noncommittal shrug. “Yourself?”

“Sleepy, and nursing a sore stomach from where your queen kicked me last night, but otherwise, none the worse for wear,” the griffin replied, rubbing what was surely a nasty bruise on her belly.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time,” Chrysalis apologized. “Although, if not for your help and Bakhtak’s, I might have flown the coop and tried to track down Spike myself.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad, that was a pretty good kick,” Eutropia replied. “Besides, yeah, good thing we stopped you there. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?”

As Spike rose to his feet (after managing to pry his family off of him), he sensed a strange smell travel through his nostrils. It was a familiar one, something he’d known at some point or another throughout his life, but he couldn’t quite tell what, and looking around the room, he spied his bed.

Or, what may have been his bed at some point.

“Hey, um, did somepony set my bed on fire?”

Downstairs, Ebony Blade heard some screeching from the bedroom above, followed by not-so-loud conversing. “Must’ve woken them up,” he thought as he was carried across the threshold by Bakhtak. Already, some of the others were laying on couches and chairs, their bodies aching as the less-injured ones helped them along. “Hey, Bakhtak, I think you can put me down now.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll put you down, but only where you deserve it,” the Nightmare said softly, gingerly placing him in his favorite chair in front of the fireplace. All that remained of the roaring fire of last night were some glowing coals, but after tossing in a few split logs, Bakhtak had the fireplace roaring in no time. “Do you need anything else, Ebony? Lady Fyrefly wanted me to send a message through to the other guards in the castle for assistance and transport. Huma, my phoenix, should be here shortly to deliver it.”

The batpony sat in silence for a few moments, pondering her question. “No, no, I should be good,” he said. “Though I think the others might be in need of some food and water.”

“I’ll get right on that,” she replied, leaning over and gently kissing him on the head. “Don’t move; I shan’t be gone long.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” Ebony replied with a smile, despite of the moderate pain in his jaw.

As the Nightmare walked off, one of the guards resting in a chair opposite his own looked from her to the mercenary. “So... you, and her?” The guard said slowly, his face partially hidden by his dented helmet.

“I guess so,” Ebony said, unsure if this was a newer guard or a grizzled veteran. “Is that odd?”

“Yes,” the guard replied, fiddling with his arm’s bandages. “Odd, for sure, but not bad, by any means. It’s about time you settled down again, Mr. Blade.”

Ah, a veteran, it would seem. “I suppose it is,” the mercenary replied, the words “settled down again” beginning to replay in his mind. Hmm, now just would that entail this time around…

Once she had some water starting to boil and some vegetables tossed in, Bakhtak strode outside just as the last of the guards entered the house. Spying the castle in the far distance, she pursed her lips together and let out a high-pitched whistle, higher than even a batpony could hear.

In a flash of light, Huma, her phoenix, appeared before her, having teleported to her side the instant it heard her call. Hovering slightly, she landed on her companion’s shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. “Good girl,” she muttered, stroking the bird’s head affectionately as she held a quill and piece of paper in the other hand. “Been keeping an eye on the castle for me? Any problems?”

The bird cooed and shook it’s head, her plumage slightly glowing; a temporary aftereffect of the the teleportation.

“Good,” she said, placing the paper against a wall and beginning to write. “I’ve got something for you to deliver.”

The door opened a few minutes later and out came Lady Fyrefly, limping slightly as she walked over to the Nightmare. “Is that the letter I requested?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Good, good,” the duchess replied, sighing as she leaned against the wall. “Bakhtak, you are loyal beyond measure, correct?”

“I would like to think so.”

“And you do not feel at all inclined to hide things from your liege, correct?”

“No, not really. I tell you everything, as per part of our agreement for living within your domain. A fair trade, I should think.”

“Then please, tell me,” the duchess began, watching the Nightmare out of the corner of her eye, “what was it that I came across after we dug you and Ebony Blade out?”

The Nightmare paused in her scribbling, the phoenix upon her shoulder turning with her to look at the batpony. “I’m... not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” Fyrefly said softly.

“I’m not so sure if I know, myself, exactly,” Bakhtak muttered, looking away from her liege.

“Then please, try and enlighten me.”

She sighed, the phoenix upon her shoulder beginning to preen as she wrote. “Ebony and I have known each other for years, your highness. I’ve been there for him for so long; seen him through the best and worst situations, with this topping the list, that I think I began to develop... feelings for him, a few years ago, most likely. But I was unsure of his reaction, so I guess I kept it locked up inside of me, keeping it restrained. But these past few days, I guess... I guess those locks broke down, and those feelings returned.”

And in force.

“They did?” The duchess asked, intrigued by her much-taller companion.

“Yes,” the Nightmare said softly. “When I came to save you, I did so with the thought that maybe you and Ebony had overpowered and defeated your sister, but not without injuring yourselves in the battle. But when you told me that Ebony had gone off to save the dragon and that the vampire was likely right on his heels, I... I grew angry, your highness. Not at you, not at Ebony, and not even at Bathory. I was angry at myself, for letting Ebony get himself into this kind of mess, and not being there for him as quickly as I should have.”

“And?”

“And... I guess that was why I more or less abandoned you, setting off for Ebony as fast as I could. I know, it was a stupid thing to do, what with how you said your sister promised to kill you, but I just... I just had to get to Ebony.”

“And save the dragon in the process?”

“Now that I’ve thought about it, no, not really. I’m not even sure Bathory could have drank the blood of Spike all that quickly, anyway. His scales are so strong that I doubt she could have bit through them; she would've had to work her fangs underneath the scales, down to his flesh, and that would've taken time. She would have been able to drink him, yes, but the work involved would have slowed her down considerably. Regardless, no, my intent was to save Ebony from Bathory, for reasons I couldn’t quite grasp at the time.”

“You love him?” It wasn’t really a question on Fyrefly’s part, but it needed to be asked.

“Yes; yes, I do.” Bakhtak nodded, finishing the letter.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” the duchess stated, watching as the Nightmare rolled up the paper and handed it to the phoenix. In a flash, Huma was gone, back at the castle and likely delivering the letter to a captain or courier at this very moment.

“You’re not?” Bakhtak asked, cocking her head to the side.

“No, I’m not. Like you said, you’ve known him for years now, so it was only natural that you would develop feelings for him. However, I do see a problem.”

“What sort of problem?”

“Your longevity. You will greatly outlive him, and though you are already “tied down” to these lands, with the oaths you’ve taken, being with Ebony would tie you down even more so. Do you really want that?”

“Yes,” Bakhtak replied, rather defensively at that. “I would be, no, I want to do that; to spend the rest of Ebony’s life with him, however long that may be.”

Fyrefly smiled, a kind, warm smile that had long been absent from her face. “That’s all I needed to hear,” she said. “You both have my blessing to be with one another for as long as both of you shall live.”

The Nightmare blinked. “Blessing?”

“Yes,” the duchess said. “It’s my royal right and duty to bless these sort of things. I’d like to attend the ceremony, if you don’t mind, but only as a regular guest, and not one of honor.”

“Ceremony?”

“Why, the wedding, of course!” Fyrefly laughed. “Knowing you, it’d be a nice, small, simple one, with only myself, Ebony and yourself present, along with a priest and maybe a few of my more discreet captains as witnesses.”

Okay, this was going a bit too fast for Bakhtak. “Er, um, I wasn’t thinking about a wedding just yet,” she muttered, blushing slightly. “But, yeah, that does sound like... like an ideal sort of thing. Thank you.”

“Glad to be of help,” the duchess said, turning to head back inside.

“Wait,” the Nightmare said.

“Yes?”

“Before we go back inside, can we keep what we talked about, the wedding and all that, just between the two of us-,”

“I shan’t say a thing; not a word will leave these lips.”

“... then, can I ask you something?”

“Ask away,” the duchess replied happily.

“Do you still love him?”

The words hung softly in the air as the clouds in the distance continued to break up, with more and more blue sky becoming evident as they did. Rising higher and higher into the sky, the sun’s warmth shone down on the pair, driving away the chilly dew of the night before.

“Excuse me?” Fyrefly asked, blinking as the sunlight shone into her face.

“Do you still love him? Ebony, I mean.” Bakhtak repeated. “Ebony told me on the way back, about what you two were when you were... younger.”

The duchess slowly and confidently looked her up and down, as if sizing her up again. She hadn’t been expecting this so soon, but, frankly, it was inevitable. “Yes, yes I still do love him,” she finally said. But as the Nightmare was about to sigh, she quickly added, “but not as you do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ebony was a good part of a better portion of my young life, and he helped me become who I am today. I may have loved him as you do, once, a long time ago, but I moved on from then. Bakhtak, I have married and lost, as he had as well, and the time we’ve been apart has driven a wedge between us that I believe we, even if we wanted to, could never truly overcome. He is a mercenary, and I, a duchess. Most would care little in this duchy if I were to remarry, or even to whom, but there are other nobles out there that would pounce on the opportunity to disgrace me and my family’s legacy. So yes, Bakhtak, I still love Ebony Blade, as he is a part of me in some small way, but it is not the kind of love I saw the two of you sharing when we dug you out.”

“So... he’s mine?” The Nightmare asked, cracking a small grin.

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that... but yes, he’s yours to pursue as you see fit; I will not interfere,” Lady Fyrefly calmly said. “Besides, he’s not mine to claim; not anymore. I saw the way he looked at you when you were carrying him back. He’s smitten with you,” and with that, she left, leaving the Nightmare behind as she limped off towards a spare room to rest.

Her entire body ached, and the fact she was still keeping herself upright alone was taxing her to her limit. “But at least it’s all over,” she muttered as she fell onto a nearby bed, refusing, or perhaps unable to remove her armor and underlying clothes before sleep finally took her once again.

Several hours later, a large caravan appeared on the road in front of the homestead. Ebony, though he still felt like he’d been put through Tartarus, answered the door and found himself looking up at one of the duchesses’ captains, a Mr. Chiro, if he remembered correctly.

“Hello,” he said simply, glad the swelling in his face was finally going down. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“I was told the others would be ready to depart,” the captain said. “Are they?”

“Most of them, yes, but a few will need assistance getting in the carriages,” the mercenary said. “Won’t you come in? I’m sure when she wakes up, Lady Fyrefly will want to discuss some things with you.”

“She’s still asleep?” The captain asked as he walked into the house, removing his helmet and setting it on a bench as they walked past.

“Out cold, last I checked,” Ebony said, remembering how tenderly Bakhtak had laid a blanket over the duchess. “Too tired to care that we made quite a racket getting the guards out of their armor. Some of it was so bent we had to have Spike tear it apart as gently as he could.”

“Spike?” Chiro asked as he undid the cloak around his shoulders. Up near the kitchen, the sound of dishes being put away seemed to be the only noise in the whole house.

“Oh, he’s the dragon under my care for now. I’ll go get the guards and tell them you've arrived.”

“A dragon? Most interesting,” captain Chiro muttered to himself as the mercenary hobbled off towards the living room. After a few minutes, most of the guards came hobbling out, some wrapped almost head to hoof in bandages. Many no longer wore their armor, but carried it as best they could with them.

“See to it that you all get to the infirmary as soon as we get back,” the captain said as the guards lined up beside him. “I don’t want to hear even a single word that anypony isn’t ready for active duty because they tried to hide a sprain or cracked bone, thinking that it was no big deal.”

“Yes, sir!” The bandaged stallions replied, limping their way out the door and off towards the awaiting carriages.

“Ebony, was the duchess... injured, by chance?” The captain asked as the mercenary returned, Bakhtak in tow with a more severely injured guard held gently in her arms.

“Physically, I wouldn't say too badly; a few scratches and bruising here and there, maybe a cracked rib, but other than that, no, not really,” he said. “However, I think she’s more injured inside, where it counts.”

“Her mind?”

“I think so. She didn’t seem all herself on the way back here. A mixture of deep-seated depression and weary elation, but with tinges of confusion, I’d say. Her sister messed with her mind as much as she did with her body, trying to break her, Bakhtak thinks. She’ll probably need more help in the long run than most of the guards.”

“What do you think we should do?” Chiro asked. “We’ve never really dealt with this kind of trauma before. I mean, soldiers often get some form of it, but they’ve been trained as best they can to deal with it, and they have their brothers in arms, families, with which to help with the trauma. The duchess, she has no one to personally turn to as they... I don’t know if she has the mental fortitude to deal with it.”

“I’m suggesting plenty of rest, and make sure she’s occupied with something to take her mind off of the fact she just had a hand in killing her vampire sister,” Ebony said as Bakhtak came past him once more, carrying the last guard out the door. “I’ve seen this thing before with other mercenaries, but as for the duchess, I’m afraid I can’t offer any other kind of advice. You and I both know what kind of pony she is; this will be a scar on her psyche if we’re not careful.”

Nodding, the captain turned to leave, only to stop and reach into his satchel. “In the letter I received, it stated that one of your visitors was in the habit of collecting artifacts, yes?”

“I believe so, Spike did mention something along those lines before,” the mercenary replied.

“Well, before we left the castle, I had a unicorn scribe transmogrify some of our spare books into a single volume,” Chiro said as he pulled out an impressively large book. “A copy of the history of our race in these lands and the rest of Europe, ever since the great exodus over a thousand years ago.”

Ebony accepted the weighty volume with a nod of thanks. “I’ll be sure to get it to him as soon as I can.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy it, and before I go, I have to ask... who was the one that killed Bathory?”

Ebony paused for a few seconds, just long enough for Bakhtak to return and walk past him. “It was my sword that killed the creature,” he said. “But not I who wielded it.”

“Then who did?”

“She did,” Ebony said, looking towards the living room, where Bakhtak was busy casting old bandages into the roaring fireplace.

“Bakhtak?”

“Yep.”

“Wow, it must’ve been quite the fight,” Chiro muttered as he retrieved his helmet.

“From what she told me, it was; a terrible one, to be sure, but necessary nonetheless. Good day to you, captain.”

“Good day to you, Mr. Blade,” he replied, his travelling cloak folded under one arm. “Please send news when the duchess is in good enough shape to return to the castle for proper medical examination.”

“Will do.” Shutting the door softly behind the captain, Ebony turned away from the door and limped back into the living room, where Bakhtak was sitting by the fireplace, watching as the last of the old bandages burned brightly into ash.

“Everything alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah; everything’s fine,” he replied, gently lowering himself into his favorite chair with a wince.

“Well then, I hope you won't be too disappointed that you won’t be on the market for long,” the Nightmare said.

“Market? What market?”

“Oh, you know... the singles market.”

“Oh. What makes you say that?”

She scoffed at him; either he was being smart with her, or he was just daft. “We’re going to, you know...”

“Be a couple?”

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“Well, even if I was inclined to do so, and I’m saying right here and now I’m not, but if I was, I don’t think I could find many mares who’d want to share me with you,” he said, almost chuckling to himself. “You’d probably scare off any thoughts of that, anyway.”

“Then I’m doing my job,” Bakhtak replied, her grin soft and heartwarming.

“So, with me being off the market, that means you and I, we’ll be...”

“Living together?”

“Don’t we already kind of do that?”

“Yes, but not at the level we’ll be at.”

“And what level would that be?” Ebony wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he had a general idea that it was going to surprise him.

“I had a talk with Lady Fyrefly outside, before I sent the letter,” she said. “She gave me her blessing for us to... join.” She would hold true to her promise, not talk about Fyrefly’s former, and somewhat-current, love for Ebony. Maybe several years down the road; a decade, perhaps.

Oh. “Oh, that,” the mercenary said, rubbing the back of his bruised head. “Are you sure you want to be tied down to all of this?” Gesturing to himself for added effect made him look a bit pathetic, but lovably so.

“I don’t see any reason why I wouldn't want to,” the Nightmare replied. “Only... it will have to come with some stipulations.”

“Such as?”

“Either I come with you on your jobs, or you quit the mercenary life.”

Well, shit. “Um... do I get a say in this?” The potentially-former mercenary asked.

“Not if you want to make this relationship work,” she said. “I’ll be with you for the rest of your life, which may not be all that long if you keep yourself tied to your current profession. I’d rather we get to spend our years together taking it easy, not having to worry about whether or not you'd live to come back to me every few weeks or months.”

“Well, okay, but what would I do for work? I’m still in the prime of my life at the moment, but I can't just up and quit like that.”

“Sure you can.”

“But... but I have so many things I have to sort out before I leave the business. Medical expenses, promises of work in the coming months, debts to be repaid and collected; stuff like that, you know, isn't solved by a simple agreement or a paycheck.”

“I can help you with those,” she said.

Wait, what? “You... you can?” he asked. “You have the money to do that?”

“Of course!” she replied happily. “Like I said, I’m several hundred years old, and as a quasi-shapeshifter, I’ve done a fair bit of banking in my time. Sure, most of it was gold stolen off of battlefield corpses in the middle of the night, but hey, that was a long time ago. So, Ebony, how much do you think I’ve saved up?”

“Um... a lot?” Well, this was all rather sudden...

“That’s putting it lightly, and before you ask, yes, I know I could be living a luxurious life, far removed from the mundane aspects of this world. The thing is, I don't want that kind of lifestyle. I like being simple, having a simple life, with little comforts to keep me grounded and in tune with the kind of Nightmare I am.”

“So... you’ll help pay off whatever debts I have, and help me collect on what any others owe me?” he asked.

“Yes; think of it as a very early wedding present,” the Nightmare replied, walking over and gently leaning up against the chair.

Ebony sat in silence, still struggling to process all of what she had just said. “So... any ideas for a date?” He was all for taking it slow, letting each other grow more accustomed to being together on a more… intimate level.

“I’m thinking a few months after you get back from Marescow,” she said, nuzzling his cheek. “After you've sent Spike and company on their merry way, of course. Or maybe a little later, if you’re up for a bit more waiting.” She hoped he was, at any rate; they still really needed to come to terms with everything else this relationship would entail.

“Think we should tell them?”

“Mmm... I’ll leave that up to you, ‘dear’,” she cooed. “Now, Lady Fyrefly did say she’d like to be present, though she assumed it'd be a small affair. Any problems with that?”

“No, no, small is good.” Wait, that didn't sound right. “Also, no, I don’t see a problem with her being there.”

“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make sure the guards put all the dishes away in the right spots.”

As the Nightmare walked off, a slightly spring in her step, Ebony buried his face in his hands, though not out resignation or sadness; he was happy, happier than he had been in a long time.

The only thing was, his whole world was about to turn on its head, and he wasn’t quite sure how it would turn out. He was just somewhat in shock, what with the events of the night before and all of these newfound and unleashed feelings coursing through his body.

Then again, he'd have Bakhtak along with him for the ride, so maybe things wouldn't be so chaotic as he’d originally thought. Either way, it seemed he’d cease to be a mercenary the instant he got back from the Duchy of Marescow. What would he be then? Farming didn’t really spark any sort of interest, but the barracks down in New Wingdah was in need of a new drill instructor, and he did know they were also looking for a tutor for some of the more military-inclined youth in town.

“I think I’ll look into that,” he decided, instinctively wondering how the pay would be. “Eventually.”

Later…

“So... Ebony and Bakhtak?” Asalah asked, barely managing to suppress a squeal of delight.

“That’s what I saw when we dug them out,” Spike said with a shrug as he helped his family into the large carriage. It was on loan from the duchess herself, to be returned when Ebony set out for home from Marescow without them. Nice and roomy, and very comfortable, but the solid steel frame, reinforced wheel spokes and barred windows were evident that this was far sturdier than most other carriages.

“What did Twilight say when you sent her the book?” Trixie asked as she clambered aboard.

“She hasn’t replied yet,” the dragon said. After gratefully accepting the book from Ebony and reading some of it to himself, Spike had sent it with his magical flames back to Equestria. He didn’t know what time it was there, but he was sure his unicorn friend would appreciate any new book.

Besides, he’d written a small note for her about why he hadn’t sent anything back from Istanbul, omitting most of the horrific things and just saying, “we didn’t have a chance to stay for a while,” and that a young griffin had joined them, hoping to see the world.

“Knowing Twilight, she’ll take it as a sign I’m trying out for a new wife,” he thought as he entered the carriage behind his family. He turned to see Eutropia waiting behind him, her attitude far more chipper after that nap she had snuck in a few hours before. “You joining us?”

“No, I think I’ll ride with Ebony; more room and there are some things I’d like to talk with him about,” she said. “Thanks for the offer, though; I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” Spike said. “So... when do we start my training?”

“Within a day or two,” she said with a shrug. “I’d prefer we weren’t on the move when we start, so I’m thinking either at our next stop, or in Marescow.”

“Good idea.” With that, he shut the carriage door behind him and sat down near a window. Chrysalis and Asalah were doing each other’s manes into styles he hadn’t seen before, which was saying a lot, considering the town and ponies he’s lived with most of his life, and Trixie was chatting away with Maria about what they’d heard about the Grand Duchy of Marescow.

He, on the other hand, was feeling rather out of it, so instead of joining the conversation, he let himself fall into a state of daydreaming, content with watching as the countryside began to slowly roll by as the carriage came up behind Ebony’s own.

“Stay safe,” a voice said, and turning his gaze away from the distant mountains, Spike spied Bakhtak standing rather close to Ebony, her downward eyes meeting his own. “Come back in one piece, all right?”

“You know me,” he replied with a shrug and a chuckle.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” she said. “I might not be there in time to save you from a werewolf or some other creature.”

“Bakhtak… Bakkie,” the stallion said, trying out her preferred nickname for the first time; judging from her gasp and smile, he’d done just fine. “I’ll be fine, and with Spike and his companions in good health, I think we’ll be safe. Besides, Eutropia will be riding with me; what could possibly go wrong?”

“Nothing, if you keep your nose out of trouble,” the Nightmare replied.

“I’ll do my best,” he said.

She leaned down and gave him a soft kiss, which lasted far longer than a surprised Spike would have expected. However, he smiled as they pulled apart; he was happy for Ebony. He deserved some happiness after all he had been through.

“That is to remember me by,” Bakhtak said as she pulled away from the batpony, in an almost forlorn tone. “Don’t you forget it.”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t forget that,” Ebony replied as he climbed aboard his carriage, where he saw Eutropia snickering inside. “Shut up.”

“What? It’s cute,” the griffin said, right before she made a fake gagging noise.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” he said as he took the reigns, one finger lightly tracing his lips, as if trying to burn the feeling into his memory forever. He turned to Bakhtak, silently waiting for him to wish him well.

“Probably not,” the griffin muttered.

“I shouldn’t be gone for more than a week or two,” Ebony Blade said.

“Then whenever you leave, please, make all haste to return,” Bakhtak said, a light, warm breeze fluttering her silky mane around her face. “We’ll have much to discuss; many plans to make and put into action.”

“Then make haste I shall,” Ebony replied, nodding in her direction and flashing her a smile. “Goodbye, Bakkie.”

“Goodbye… dear.”

With a sharp snap of the reigns, Ebony’s carriage lurched forward, with the carriage carrying Spike and his family lurching ahead several seconds later. The two carriages continued down the road, passing around turns and corners until they vanished from immediate sight. Still, Bakhtak watched, waited, as their carriages came once more into view, much farther down the road. From there, they turned away from New Wingdah and took another road, one leading away from the mountains and heading north, towards the lands of the Tsars.

Only after they completely disappeared from her sight did Bakhtak return to the house, gently shutting the door behind her. Then, unlike so many days in the past, she left it unlocked. There was no trouble in these lands; not any more, and for that, she was thankful.

She would be most thankful, however, when Ebony returned to her, safe and sound.

Author's Notes:

Well, I believe that is the end of the Transylmania Arc. So... what did you guys think? Did you like the inclusion of these several subplots and would like to see more, or would you prefer the opposite?