The Royal Regiment of Horse Guards was raised shortly after the Nightmare Rebellion. Losing a head of state traumatized the populace and emboldened foreign rivals, leading Princess Celestia to visibly project strength and security. Modeled after Commander Hurricane’s Speculatores, its ranks draw mainly from the nobility, many fine officers having started their careers with a freshly-purchased cornet's commission in the Guard. The unit serves as a glittering symbol of Celestia's nigh-omnipotent power, a fatherly shield around a motherly ruler.
"Shmoopy doo, little silly pony! Yes you are, yes you are!"
Captain Sir Penetrating Spear ES possesses not only an unfortunate name, but a stunning pedigree, his family serving in the Guard since its founding. During the Battle of Canterlot, the then-sergeant led twelve soldiers in the desperate defense of Porke's Drift Elementary School, winning him the Equestrian Star. A month later, the newly gazetted Lieutenant rescued Prince Vladimir Blueblood from a band of Griffon sky-pirates, and thus earned the eye of the Princess herself. Once Prince Shining Armor left for the Crystal Empire, Spear was an obvious choice for his replacement, and so, at the age of 24, he became the youngest Captain of the Guard in recorded history.
Celestia blows a raspberry on his tummy.
He has a thousand years of history in his veins, armor in his soul, and an indomitable will to protect his nation and Princess. His life is lived only for others, readily sacrificed for the good of ponykind. The stallion is a paragon of equininity, a model of the gallantry and strength that all warriors strive to achieve.
"You have the best widdle little hoovsies! You're a good boy! Good boy!"
Minister of Finance Coin Goldstein sighs.
"Princess, you really must focus. The diamond dogs have threatened to kill all embassy staff unless we - "
"Mommy Celly's proud of you, yes I am! Big boy, strong boy!"
She wiggles Spear around with her magic.
Spear, for his part, doesn't say anything. There's no real response to a situation like this, in all honesty.
Foreign Minister Foalchim von Ribbentrot speaks up.
"Your Highness, please, put the Captain down and pay attention. Lives are at stake."
Minister of Culture Casting Couch coughs, casting uneasy glances at her fellows.
"I, um, agree. While I wouldn't put it so bluntly, you really should work with us to resolve this ... unfortunate situation."
Celestia flaps her wings, scattering alabaster feathers across the meeting hall. She takes off, giggling as she circles above the Privy Council. Spear floats behind her, suspended in a flaxen aura.
"Lulu's getting married! I'm gonna be an auntie, for real this time!"
Minister of Education Mr. Ed. U. Cation, PhD, turns to Minister of Transportation Pun Name.
“Wait, who’s getting married?”
“Princess Luna, I think.”
“Huh. Any idea who it is?”
“None. Princess Celestia’s been rambling about it all day though.”
They gaze at the immortal five-year old, who hangs on a chandelier and nuzzles the Captain.
Ribbentrot stands up.
"I don't have the time for this. Everypony in favor of storming the embassy say aye."
Thirteen ayes, one neigh, two abstained.
Lord High Chancellor Tipped Scales clears his throat and puffs his chest.
“With that, I conclude this meeting of Her Majesty's Most Honourable Privy Council.”
The ministers begin to file out, the low hum of discussion floating between them—few want to acknowledge Celestia’s behavior, but all are fascinated by its cause. None had heard anything about Princess Luna seeing anypony, yet one day, out of the blue, she’s suddenly engaged. This, of course, is fitting with her prior behavior, but the fact that she even has a lover is cause enough for surprise—if Celestia is the nation’s mother, then Luna is its bitter aunt who hangs around renn faires and World War II reenactments.
In other words, Luna's fiance is probably some antisocial degenerate or militaristic psycho.
It's this thought that both terrifies and captivates the ministers. Luna, for her faults, is tremendously experienced, and so her return, though destabilizing, had little lasting impact on the Equestrian political landscape. Indeed, the Princess quickly recognized the necessity of acclimating to the modern era, deciding to set aside any ideological ambitions until she truly understands her new world.
This new Prince, however, is a wild card, one with both Luna's ear and significant powers of his own. The Privy Council may vote on important decisions, but at the end of the day, control rests firmly in the hooves of the alicorn tetrarchy.
The doors to the conference room shut, a boom resounding through busy marble corridors.
Spear looks on in horror as he's abandoned by his colleagues.
"PLEASE NO, DON'T LEAVE ME HERE, PLEA - "
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Neither say anything as the chariot silently arcs towards the Canterhorn. The moon shines down on farmland and brooks, shimmering stars painting the sky. A slight breeze comes in from the east, and the faint smell of ozone clings to the nippy winter air. They slowly approach the castle, marble and gold towers piercing the sky. Streetlights stand vigil in empty streets, pointing out hoofprints in the freshly fallen snow. Canterlot is asleep, at peace under the protective veil of the night.
A dull thud, and the chariot lands. It's a short walk to Luna's room, Night Watch soldiers forming a loose ring around the couple.
"So, what's with the guards?"
Luna turns her head, eyebrow raised.
"Hmm?"
"Why do all the guards look like bats?"
"Ah. It's an enchantment on their armor, supposed to bring fear to the enemy."
"Don't look that scary to me."
"Curious, most find their appearance quite disturbing. How would you describe them, then?"
Anon chuckles.
"They're absolutely adorable. I think the unshaved ear hair really sells it."
Luna grins.
"I am inclined to agree. Sister rejected my other designs, as a focus group found them too threatening."
"Isn't being threatening the exact point of a guard?"
"I said the same, but she was adamant. You see, these stallions are technically part of Sister's guard, so she's ultimately the one who makes decisions on things like uniform. I would like to raise my own guard, but haven't found the time to do so."
"You should probably get on that, then. I don't wanna spend the rest of my life surrounded by Dracula cosplay."
"I don't understand that reference, but appreciate the sentiment."
They reach a pair of ebony doors, an ivory moon inlet in their junction. A guard opens it for them, revealing Luna's bedchambers. Bookshelves line the walls, surrounding a weird moon-shaped bed that lies underneath a mural of stars.
"You shall take the rollaway."
Her horn flashes, and a couch rises up from the obsidian floor. Another flash, and out springs a cheap looking mattress. It's wrapped in star-studded sheets, moons dotting the pillow. Luna really likes the whole space motif.
As they get into bed and stare at the ceiling, the weight of the situation finally hits them. In the moments before sleep, they've both a final thought.
Fuck.