"Pregnant," Razor whispers quietly, his heart breaking. Pregnant.
"Yes, pregnant," says the princess all too happily. "You'll soon be a pair of happy parents!"
"Happy?" he whispers. "Right."
"I wish you the best of luck then," and with this he wakens with a snap, his eyes popping open. It is Ophelia's scent that is near him when he looks down, waking. Ophelia's body pressed against his, snuggling against his hide.
Happy, he thinks. How ridiculous. How can he be happy raising another colt's child? For he knows full well there is no way, no possible way in all the stars, that he, a reptile, could impregnate her, a pony. And yet, the gods themselves have decreed her pregnant. So it must not be from anything to do with him. It can not be.
He feels the soft rustling indicating Ophelia's waking, her head lifting up, mouth opening impossibly wide as she pulls her arms away, stretching, her spine cracking as she stretches. She scratches at her chest, looking at him. "Sleep well?" she asks.
"Yeah..." he whispers. "I..."
There is something upsetting in his stomach. He feels something trying to push up in his mouth. Ophelia's eyes narrow. "Bathroom. Now."
There is that dark tone to her voice that allows for no rebuttal. He obeys, without question, rushing to the sink. He lowers his head, the vomit and bile heaving itself up from his mouth. It comes in a torrent of ill tasting vile.
He uses his sickness to cover the weakness in his legs, and the tears that spring forth in his eyes. How could she? How could...
"Hey," she says, leaning against the doorway. "Be at practice on the courtyard by 3:00pm. You still need to practice on your downstroke with the blade."
"Yeah... alright..." he whispers.
She looks at him, her eyes narrowing. Shrugging, she sighs. "What a weak runt," she mouths as she walks away. He snaps his head up, looking only to see as the door slams on his back. He lowers his head into his palms and allows the tears to stream forth, now fully allowing himself the luxury of crying now that she is gone.
Ulna hisses, clawing at the floor angrily. It has been months now, weeks melting into months since she was sent to find Lews and bring him back home. And now, as she walks back and forth, snarling and snapping, she is so near but so very far at once.
The crystal empire. She looks at it, at the towering buildings, the brilliant fortifications in place. She snarls, her lips pulling back from her gums revealing sharp teeth that drip with warm saliva. This... this has infuriated her.
She has found him, oh yes, after more then a month of tracking, she has found him. The blind fool has enlisted himself, enlisted himself in the garrison for their very food. Has revealed himself to the whole bloody pony world! That blasted...!
She snaps absently at the wind, her jaws shutting on nothing but air. She is frustrated. No. Frustrated doesn't begin to cover it. She is seething. If Daydreamer had not demanded he be brought back, son or not, she would leave him here to rot with his precious ponies.
She shakes her head, the anger turning into a low simmer. There is no two ways about it, the commander's child, he is a ponyphile. The most perverse of offenses, one who has physical attraction for the very substance he eats. It is enough to make her heave.
She stares, lips curling, watching as those colorful, bright glass looking ponies prance about, their hooves clicking merrily on the ground. None aware of the predator just within their midst. None aware they could die at any moment.
"Rar!" she hears a small voice say. She looks down at her feet, seeing a young foal, pink with a blue mane and tail, looking at her, wagging his tail. "Rar!" he says, making a face and stretching his neck out. "Rar!"
She makes a low, dangerous growling noise in the back of her throat. The foal cocks an eye and smiles. "You're funny, just like the other one!"
"The other one?" she says in a low voice. "What other one," she says, lowering her body so her nose is nearly level with the foal's.
"The other one who lives in the castle with the princesses, silly!" he says, pointing with his small hoof towards the large tower. Ulna lifts her head, pulling away from the small one, grunting in annoyance. That she already knows. "Everyone knows he lives with the princesses."
"Yes," she grunts. "Of that I'm aware. Too painfully aware."
"Heh. You act like that guy's girlfriend!"
"Girlfriend?" she says, her head snapping to attention. The foal ignores it.
"Yeah. Some girl pony with wings. She pushes him around a lot. I asked him why he lets her do that. He said it's cuz she has bigger teeth then he does. I think grown ups are funny."
"Yes," she hisses. "They can be."
The sinking in her gut where a spec of hope had remained, vaporizes. A pony who pushes him around? And he allows her? The shame in these actions can not truly be measured. It...
"Well... bye!"
She looks towards the small foal as he bounds away, his hooves clip clopping on the pavement. Truly she could have snapped him up, crushing his bones between her teeth. It would have made a fine supper. But his loss would have not gone without notice, and for now... she can not afford to be noticed.
Eyes narrowing, she lowers her head, slinking off, moving deeper into the city while keeping to the shadows and avoiding prying eyes, especially those of young curious foals who have no fear. Especially those.
Razor wipes his eyes, wandering about in a daze of the outskirts of the city. Initially he'd wanted to visit Fluttershy, but now... with what is happening, he does not want to do it. He does not have the desire right now to face his friend.
Ophelia is pregnant. How could she? How could Ophelia claim she loved him and then be frolicking about with another colt?
He snaps his teeth absently, grinding them against one another. He...
"Trouble in paradise?" says a voice he has not heard in the longest time. One he'd forgotten and abandoned. It comes out like a snake like whisper against long teeth, almost snapping at the end. A raptor. One he knew once...
"Ulna?" he whispers quietly, turning a heavy head in her direction
The pink reptile snarls, stomping towards him. "Who else, you sick ponyphile! Do you know how long I've been mucking around through these cities in search of you? And now I find you... being pushed around by our food? It just..."
She has a wild look to her eyes, something overly familiar to him when a certain mare is angry. He can barely see the reptile before him, instead seeing a blue mare with amber eyes. Gritting his teeth, he growls, "go away."
"What?!" she snaps, taken aback by his sudden agression. "Have you lost your senses? I'm not..."
"Go. Away."
She stares, her mouth partly agape, eyes blinking rapidly. Mouth shutting slowly, her eyes narrow, the plume of feathers on her crest rising in her agitation. Razor stands his ground, no longer afraid of women who have their shackles raised. "Go away," he repeats.
She grunts, her form seeming to deflate before him. He turns his head away, turning his back on her when something hits him in the back of the head. He falls with a thud, his mind falling into blackness. As his conscious fades, he hears her snarl, "I'm not going home without you Lews. It's been too long."
Lews, he thinks. Who is that? My name is Razor. Then his mind blacks out completely.