The Last Nightguard
Bitter Medicine
“Under the Uniform Code of Equestrian Justice (UCEJ), any member of the armed forces can be punished for failure to report for duty if prosecutors can show that he or she, without authority failed to go to his or her appointed place of duty at the time prescribed, went from his or her appointed place of duty…”
—Failure to Repair - Royal Guard Academy UCEJ training course, second year
“Psst.”
As a method of awakening, it was quite effective, because once Eb heard the noise he knew it would continue until he responded. Sun was still firmly up in the sky, bathing the bedchambers in warm although slanted beams, and showing Peanut Brittle’s golden eyes contracted to thin slits.
“Are you awake?”
It was a question Eb was not quite ready to answer. Old habits chided him for sleeping through the Day, but crushing fatigue and pained muscles from last night urged him to simply close his eyes and resume his slumber. Then there was Duty…
“Your Highness,” he mumbled. “One of your subjects requests your presence.”
There was a noise in response much like a hoof being dragged out of a swamp, a slithering and liquid sound that repeated several times as Luna cleared her mouth and gave a preliminary cough. “Tis still the Day. Send them to my sister.”
“It is one of your subjects,” said Eb at the discouraged look that swept over Peanut Brittle’s face. “Arise and greet the… Moon as is your duty. Besides, your sister did shoulder your burden for a thousand years. It is time you took up some small part for your own.”
“Uhh.” Luna heaved herself up until she could see over Eb’s immobile body, but she promptly flopped down so her sharp chin rested on his ribs. “Speak, child.”
“Mamma says you raised the moon at least once already and I missed it, so I thought if I got up really, really, really early—”
“No,” said Luna, although she yawned immediately afterward.
Taking advantage of the momentary lack of Luna’s ability to interrupt, Eb quickly added, “She’s afraid you would see her fail. Since she has been without her appointed duty for so long—”
“I’m not afraid!” stated Luna firmly. She jabbed Eb in the back with one sharp hoof. “Your duty is to your liege.”
“And yours is to the populace,” countered Eb. “Large and small. Young Peanut Brittle hath gone through great lengths to ease thine and mine passage into this new world. It is a slight upon the honor of the Crown to dismiss her request without consideration for such.”
Luna remained silent for a time, with the only motion being her breath upon the fine hairs regrowing on Ebon Tide’s side. “We liked you better on the moon,” she grumbled. “Verily, young one, we owe you a debt of great magnitude, so consider this payment in a small part.”
* * *
Some mistakes were obvious. Some only became obvious after a short period of observation.
After sitting out on the sunlit Royal Balcony between Their Highnesses, the silence seemed as thick as tar, and the vast majority of that cloying miasma was settling down on Eb’s thin shoulders. Peanut Brittle was oblivious to the tension, and looked back and forth between the two alicorns like a child caught between two delicious apples.
“Is it time now?” she asked again. “Are you going to raise the Moon and lower the Sun at the same time? Do you trade occasionally? Does the Sun take more effort since it is so much brighter? Have they ever gotten stuck?”
For some reason, both alicorns gave a brief giggle. It broke the tense silence far better than anything Eb could have done and gave him a welcome opening.
“Shall I fetch a pry bar?” he asked.
“No need,” said Celestia. The Sun eased down below the horizon just as smooth as butter, but the Moon did not follow suit. He could still see the silver glow at the edge of the horizon, but it remained unrisen.
“You can do it!” whispered Peanut in a voice that could probably be heard on the other side of the palace. At least Luna took the encouragement of the child as a positive. The Moon eventually staggered up above the horizon like a drunk farmer after a harvest festival, wavered for a few moments, then stabilized in place to the quiet cheers of the small batpony. “Yes, yes, yes!” she whispered to herself and anypony in the vicinity. “So cool.”
Eb caught himself before offering to get a blanket for the child despite the relative warmth of the night air. Cool was good and no longer meant cold, and cold had changed only slightly.
“Soooo,” said Peanut once it became obviously nopony else was going to talk, “you’re not mad at each other any more, right?”
“Correct,” said Celestia, still looking away.
“Certes,” said Luna.
“They’re both liars,” said Eb without really thinking. “They have always been angry at each other to some degree every day I’ve known them, it’s just the Guards are forbidden to mention it.”
Celestia reacted as if she had been poked with a pin in her rather large hindquarters. “Ebon Tide! I have never—”
Reacting again, Eb snapped, “You always treated anypony in the Guard coming to you with bad news about your sister as if they were the one who had done something wrong, and anypony who told you everything was fine—”
“Like me,” muttered Luna.
“They were given one of your smiles and a pat on the head,” finished Eb, since he figured he was in for a copper farthing, so why not go in for a gold bit. “We tried to tell you about your sister’s growing discontent, but you avoided that kind of criticism like spiders. Everything will be fine. She’s just feeling moody. The excuses wore thin as old shoes. Wherever the two of you were together, conflict followed.”
He had not thought of Peanut Brittle before releasing his ire. The young batpony was staring at him with wide eyes, which should have shut Eb up like a clam, but he flowed right on into a hard-learned lesson for the child.
“Yes, that’s the truth, bitter and simple,” he stated plainly. “You have both a younger and older sib, so you know well there are times when your anger bubbles up to the surface and you wish the most terrible things upon them.”
“But I love my brothers,” she blurted out. “They’re giant poopy-heads sometime, but they’re mine and I’d never turn into some horrible monster to attack them, or throw any of them into the moon! Um…” Peanut seemed to shrink in upon herself between Luna and Celestia as if she was dwindling into nothing.
“Exactly.” Eb gave each of the Royal Sisters a flat glare. “Would only that the two of you had a small child to advise you against your actions so long ago. This young one is wiser far than the two of you together.”
“You shall not speak to us in this fashion,” snapped Celestia as she rose to her imposing height and glared down at him..
“Or what?” Eb pointed with one wingtip at the newly risen moon. “Shall you return me to my prison for another thousand years until I am naught but dust upon my return? Or will you condemn me to waste away in a distant house of healing like you did already? Speak or not of your sister as you wish, but her revolting actions are the reason I live. I shall never forgive her for lashing out at you or for cursing me with dark magic, but I am not her flesh and blood. She is your sister, and as such should hold such an unbreakable bond in your heart as young Peanut Brittle has with her sibs. And you!”
Eb whirled to face Princess Luna, who had cringed back into the shadows of the balcony. “Will you not take the forgiveness you are offered free of charge? Your heart’s blood and hers are one and the same, and no action can sever that bond. Throw her love into the dungheap and wallow in your misery if you wish, but I shall have no part of your foolish depravity. Come, Peanut Brittle. Let us be off to your family, for these two cowards shall be a bad influence upon your growth of character.”
“But—” started Peanut, but Eb cut her off with a sharp glance.
“I said come with me. What these two decide to do with this evening is none of our business. I will return you to your family before turning to my evening exercises. At least that will be a productive use of my time rather than throwing unwanted lessons at two insolent brats.”
“I… Okay.” Peanut Brittle took several steps in his direction before doubling back and fairly launching herself at Celestia in a way that nearly made what was left of Eb’s protective reflexes kick in. She wrapped all her hooves and both wings around the huge alicorn’s neck with a grip that made Celestia’s eyes open wide. The crushing hug lasted for a fairly short time, just enough for Eb to wonder if perhaps he should intervene but not enough for him to actually say anything foolish. Luna had less patience than himself and had just opened her mouth to speak when Peanut changed hosts, swapping necks in less time than an eyeblink.
“Urk!” managed Luna, who had a more difficult time of it since Peanut’s strangling hold was more effective on her smaller neck.
“Don’t fight,” managed the tiny batpony through her tears. “Mum and Dad fought when my brother said he wanted to be a doctor and it was terrible. They kissed and made up after but I was afraid they’d keep fighting forever and I don’t want to be afraid like that ever again. So promise.”
“Little one.” Princess Celestia ran a large hoof gently down the trembling batpony child’s back. “I could never do that again.”
“You should never have needed to,” gasped Luna as Peanut’s grip slackened. “I was a fool to let myself be taken by the darkness. Likewise, I shall never, can never allow that to happen again. Now, go. Take our disruptive guardian and allow us our time together. We shall not fight. I give you my word.”
“We may shout a bit,” admitted Celestia. “Siblings do, after all. I think it is a requirement, and to bottle such things up can cause more issues than releasing a few mere words.”
Peanut Brittle did not say anything from her tight grasp on Luna’s neck, but she did nod, and after a bit of encouragement, released her prisoner and took short hesitant steps over to Ebon Tide’s side. They departed without comment, leaving the alicorns upon the balcony as Eb picked his way down the stairs with his small shadow alongside.
* * *
“My actions were stupid beyond belief.” Feeling much like a child himself, Ebon Tide slumped and allowed his nose to touch the floor of the House Glory library. “Once my mouth started, the words just flew like Azkatanan poisoned darts.”
Master Sergeant Tide said nothing, much like he had remained silent during Eb’s long confession father-to-father instead of Warleader-to-subordinate. The big mottled brown earth pony had offered the library as a private location for their conversation, although now he looked more uncomfortable at having such a mouthy superior officer under his roof.
Finally, the big pony moved, although not to rebuke Eb as he first thought. “Sit down,” rumbled Tide and pushed the largest overstuffed chair a little further away from the wall in his direction. “You still haven't recovered as much as you think.”
Chairs in this modern age were at least similar to Eb’s expectations, but recliners were not. The back of the huge chair eased away at his pressure, leaving Eb feeling a little like a tortoise stuck on his back, and made only worse when Tide pushed a lever and some sort of hoofrest popped up in front while the chair reclined into a near-horizontal state.
“That’s better.” Tide moved over to the other chair and plopped down in it, although he did not recline. “Never thought I’d be talking to a thousand-year-old officer like he was my own child having a hissy fit. You’ve got quite a temper to you. Oh, don’t try to deny it. I married into it, after all. Then what with Princess Luna did to you…”
“She saved my life,” admitted Eb.
Tide shook his head. “You go counting saving lives and threatening lives in history and you’ll lose track pretty fast. Still, the Moon’s Children have racked up a lot of points in their favor over the years.”
“Moon’s Children?” asked Eb, shocked out of his morose musings by the unexpected name.
“Don’t spread it around.” Tide drew one large hoof across his lips in a strange modern gesture. “Particularly, don’t use it around any of the children. Don’t need to give them excuses for their uncivilized behavior when they lose their temper. In any event, if Sun or Moon were offended by your outburst, you’d know. Everypony would know.”
“Royal Everfree Announcement Voice,” said Eb with a wince. “Everypony in the vicinity takes a day or two before they regain their hearing.”
“It’s called a Royal Canterlot Voice now.” Tide pursed his lips in thought for a time. “Peanut practically worships Princess Luna. She’s going to ask for a demonstration sometime. Make sure to discourage her.”
“You would fain allow me to maintain contact with your child, even though I—”
Tide cut Eb off sharply. “That dressing-down was not only well-needed, but should give Peanut pause when she starts thinking Luna is perfect. Heavens knows the two alicorns we already have were just full of little flaws. Sometimes, it is difficult to draw their attention to a negative behavior. Sometimes, a support beam to the face is probably not enough,” he added under his breath.
“I… cannot disagree,” admitted Eb.
“Having Peanut around you two has been quite the learning experience all around,” said Tide. “It is good that Her Highness learn about the modern world from a simpler perspective. I heard about the can of mangos, of course. Peanut can’t stop talking about that can. There’s something else that I think she should learn a little less about, though.”
It was a puzzling statement, although Eb tried his best to think about what particular part of Princess Luna’s actions was troubling the diligent father. There were so many to pick from.
“I avoided using profanity when addressing Their Highnesses,” said Eb slowly, because it was the obvious place to start and a career in the Guard had given him considerable vocabulary in that regard.
“Not quite. Rumor says Princess Luna spent her whole day in your apartment. No, it didn’t come from Shining Armor,” he added quickly as Eb began to splutter denial. “He doesn’t start rumors; he squashes them flat. Good officer, but a tad too honest for politics. Has this odd idea that the Royal Guard should be protecting the Crown instead of playing games with politicians.”
“Vermin,” grumbled Eb.
“Necessary,” said Tide immediately. “Imagine how difficult it would be for one alicorn to run this whole anthill by herself. Politicians are elected so the common pony has a voice in how they are governed. Princess Celestia cannot speak to each of her subjects on every matter, but she can ensure they have the power to select a representative to speak on their behalf.” The big earth pony shrugged. “Some of them sing off-key, I’ll admit, but she listens to them.”
“Unless there are none who wish to tell her what she does not wish to hear,” grumbled Eb.
“There is that.” Tide tapped one hoof against his chair for a few moments. “Perhaps you will stir up the politicians as much as Shining Armor is bringing some useful Sun to the shadows of our organization. Have you considered stepping into a seat at Parliament?”
Eb grunted. “Would we be permitted to slay those who besmirch our honor?”
“Well.” Tide appeared to be considering his words as well as resisting laughter. “Slay them with words, yes.”
“Then, no. We are already far too abusive with our liege.”
“Hm…” Obviously what Tide was considering involved a short trip, because he left the library with a brisk stride and returned without explanation, but what he retrieved explained a lot.
“The reason why Flutter and I argued over our son Peptide’s decision to go into medicine,” he said while passing over a cold glass bottle. Tide removed the metal cap on his own bottle with one swift twist, then appeared to consider the disparity in experience before swapping bottles with Eb so he would not have to struggle with the modern device. The bottle was certainly not orange pop, but a dark beer with an odd taste due to being chilled. Still, it was impressive, a rich flavor that lingered on the tongue and brought out more pleasure than anything of his own era. There were not even any chunks which required chewing.
“Your son Peptide’s Mark?” asked Eb when he had dealt with about half of the bottle.
“Something to do with microorganisms and their interrelationships.” Tide tilted his bottle up and drained it to the bottom, then picked another up from the basket between their chairs. “Apparently, it also relates to contagious diseases and infections. The medical school in Manehattan was ecstatic. His mother, somewhat less so.”
“Contagion is no small matter. To lose a brewer of such skill is a tragedy—” Eb finished off his beer “—but if it saves lives from the Alpaccan trots or the pox, the loss should be easily balanced.”
“The trots were eliminated well over a century ago,” said Tide. “Every child gets an immunization for pox now, as well as a dozen other diseases which cut bloody swaths through all races in your time. Did you get your shots yet?”
“Nay,” admitted Eb reluctantly. “Nor has Her Highness.”
“Schedule them with the military physicians as soon as you can,” said Tide. “You’ll have at least a modicum of privacy from the prying eyes of the palace.”
“If either of Their Highnesses will speak to me ever gain,” said Eb.
Tide made an amused snorting sound and wiped some beer off his nose. “Do you honestly think either of our headstrong charges will even admit you said anything to them? The only thing harder than diamonds is an alicorn’s skull.”
Eb hesitated while wrestling with another bottle of beer. “The more things change—”
“The more they stay the same,” said Tide, who smiled when Eb emerged victorious in his battle with the twist-off bottlecap. “To Sun and Moon, and the ladies who lift them,” he declared with a wave of his bottle.
“To always another tomorrow, no matter the troubles of today,” said Eb with a wave of his own bottle. “Sergeant Tide, if only you were at my side before I made the foolish decision that flung me into this strange world, but since you could not be then, I am glad you are now.”
“You’re not sweet-talking me into being present when you and Princess Luna get your shots,” said Tide. “Each of my children raised enough fuss that I have used up my store of patience for the century.”
“Meh.” Eb took another drink of beer. “Companionship would be welcome. I hesitate to make this request, Master Sergeant, since my behavior was so aberrant before—”
“But you want Peanut to go with you two for your shots,” completed Tide. “I see no reason to reject your request, Warleader. Sometimes the courage of the young can overcome the fears of the old. I’ll send Peptide to go with her to the military physician's office first thing tomorrow evening. You two old ponies should be able to stand a few needles better than a couple of foals.”
He was so wrong.