"Are you sure you don't want any help with that? I could carry it for you if you'd like."
Carrying a guest's luggage wasn't exactly in Shammy's job description as a palace maid. But then again Thunder Strike wasn't really a guest here. He was just as much as staff member and coworker as anypony else was. So it was really just an offer of help from one friend to another.
"A Royal Guard doesn't ask somepony to do for them what they're unwilling to do themselves, or is otherwise able to do on their own," he replied simply, his wooden hooflocker held aloft in his cobalt blue magical aura as he followed her.
"I suppose not," she replied, figuring that was as far as the discussion was going to go.
And honestly she hadn't been all too keen on the idea of trying to balance that box on her back the entire way to where they were going. Although its wood structure would still be preferable to trying to carry one of those diamond plate steel boxes that some staff members were using for storage purposes.
That was more or less the sum total of their conversation as they walked along. But that wasn't really surprising, given what she knew about him. He was a pony who was more often seen rather than heard, only really ever speaking up if he had something that he thought was important enough to say.
But if he didn't feel up to having a conversation right now, it really wasn't her place to pry. Especially not now as they were just about at their destination.
"This is it, your new quarters," she said as she withdrew a key from the pocket of her apron to undo the lock, before turning the knob to swing the door open and let him step inside.
He moved past her with ease, never even coming close to brushing against her with either his frame or the locker in his field, as he stepped inside and looked around.
"These are my new quarters?" he asked uncertainly as he turned back around to face her. "There must be some sort of mistake."
Shammy tilted her head to the side, uncertain of what he was saying. This had been the assigned room, the key she'd been given wouldn't work in any other locks, even if the numbered tag on it had been mislabeled.
Curiously, she stepped inside and looked around, trying to see whatever it was that he was seeing, that led him to believe there was a problem.
"Are they not to your liking?" she asked, all the while glancing at the bed, the windows, and everything else that surrounded them.
"This room is far too extravagant for one pony like myself," he stated simply.
Curiously, Shammy looked around the room once again, hoping the elaboration would help her understand his statement a bit better. This was a very standard, very run of the mill -by Canterlot standards- guest room that he'd been moved to, and far from being one the most extravagant of locations to be found in the palace.
If he really wanted extravagant he should see some of the VIP suites in the palace. The stories she'd heard from others about them and their supposedly gold-tiled floors really had to be a sight to behold.
Before he'd spoken up, she was just about to say she was certain they could arrange for something better for him, but now she was glad she hadn't gotten quite that far.
"This room is enormous; too enormous for a single pony to utilize on their own. If it had a kitchen it could easily be a complete apartment. The windows are huge, and with this vantage point one can see for miles with ease. Even the bed is excessive; there's easily room for five or six ponies all at once," he continued.
She blinked at that, just a hint of blush tinging its way through her cheeks at his words. "Five or six? Er, Lieutenant, aren't you being just a bit presumptuous there?"
Thunder shook his head in response. "No, I'm quite certain six Royal Guards could easily sleep in this bed without bumping into each other. Five if one of them was Lieutenant Wall."
"Oh. I thought that you meant... er, never mind what I thought," she said in a mumble and decided to quickly change the subject. "I can assure you, this is the standard guest room, equipped with all the same amenities and facilities as numerous others just like it. With room service you could easily stay in here for a month without ever having to leave for anything."
"And... this is where I'm staying while I recover?" he asked her, still sounding like he didn't believe it for himself.
"If that's what Princess Celestia said. You'll have to ask her for the details yourself. Really, I was just asked to bring you here," she explained. "Do you need any help unpacking or otherwise getting settled in?"
He shook his head in response. "I can tend to that myself. What I need most right now is information. There's still a lot going on here that I don't properly understand. Among other things, what exactly did I do to warrant such treatment and consideration? Why exactly am I being treated like I'm suddenly an important pony?" he asked.
"... Lieutenant," she started slowly as she tried to find her words, "all of this is just... basic equine decency. You're being shown the same level of care and consideration and courtesy as anypony else would be shown in your circumstances. Surely you don't believe that you deserve anything less than that, do you?"
The fact that he didn't immediately respond to the question was concerning. And with each second that passed in silence, the more concerning it became to witness.
"... No. I don't believe that," he finally replied and slowly shook his head as he looked at her again. "I'm just... not accustomed to feeling like... all of this," he paused as he gestured around the room. "It's like I just woke up one day, and found that while I was unconscious I'd been bestowed with a newfound level of importance that I've neither had the opportunity to realize, nor to even to comprehend for myself.
"I have ponies noticing me as I walk down the halls now. They'll just stop what they're doing and actually look in my direction like they think I'm somepony special. I'll just be walking along and they'll come up to me and ask me questions about how I'm doing. Ask me if I need help with anything. Ask if they can get me anything. And I just don't... understand why. What... what changed after I fell in the shower, to warrant all of this?" he asked.
Shammy wasn't certain how to respond to the question. But she knew that she had to at least say something to him. He looked... vulnerable right now, and it was really unsettling to just watch him as he stood there, looking lost and confused about what it was like to be treated like an actual pony.
So, right or wrong, she had to at least try. She owed him at least that much.
"Lieutenant," she started, but stopped and corrected herself. "Thunder Strike. For... for better or worse, a lot of ponies here regarded your service and visible presence like the sunrise itself; a universal constant they know is going to happen, regardless of what the day brings. Rain or shine, holiday or weekend, you were always there. Doing your duty before some clocked in, and long after others clocked out. I'm... ashamed to say that I was one of them. I'm really sorry about that, by the way. So when you didn't show up for work the other day, it didn't take long for ponies to know something had to be wrong for you to break your routine like you did."
He actually flinched at her words. That hadn't been expected. And now she was starting to question whether she was saying the wrong thing.
"After you were found that morning, and word got 'round about how bad you really were and how you got in that state in the first place, a lot of ponies got worried; scared even. And after they got scared, they started seeing you more as the pony that you actually are, and less as the guard you've tried to make yourself be seen as. More flesh and blood, and less tempered steel and viridium alloy."
This really wasn't her area of expertise, and all she could do was hope for the best that she was giving an accurate enough explanation of everything. She mopped floors and dusted light fixtures, she didn't discuss matters relating to the field of psychology like she was a licensed therapist!
But at the same time, what could she really do otherwise? He'd asked for help, and he'd asked her for help. All she could do was hope to give him a reasonably accurate overview of everything that'd happened the past few days, in the hope he'd understand where she was coming from.
Although that was a very tall order, seeing as how he seemed confused and unsure of how to respond to the concept of ponies treating him like he actually was an individual just like the rest of them. What exactly was the best way to go about explaining to somepony, a concept that so many others had been raised with since birth, and understood on an unspoken, instinctual level?
"The entire time I've been working here at the palace, I've yet to speak with a pony who's ever had anything bad to say about you. And believe me, gossip spreads like the common cold, so somepony would've heard something by now if it was out there. As far as anypony has said, you've been nothing but polite, courteous, and helpful to others. You're simply getting back what you've been giving out in your time here; everypony is treating you like you've treated them. You get out what you put in. Does that make sense?" she asked him.
"In theory," he slowly acknowledged as he finally set his hooflocker down on the carpeted floor of the room. "But a Royal Guard is nothing if not courteous to those around them. What exactly makes me so special in this case, compared to all the other Royal Guards here at the palace?"
"The fact that you are the only one who almost died while doing your job," she shot right back. Did he really not understand that part?
He looked like he was about to say something, possibly some recitation of some guard tenet he was so big on presenting to justify his vision of what a royal guard should strive to be. But nothing came out and the slight tensing he'd done just previously stopped.
She'd seen that sort of look before, when the cleaning staff would get into disputes about who would take what shift and perform what duty.
"Any one of us could die at any minute in the performance of our duties," he replied softly. "Everypony who goes to the Academy is made aware of this fact, to weed out those who lack commitment. Aware of the fact that we may be required to lay down our lives in the performance of our duties to others."
"I get that," she replied and nodded. "And I respect anypony who has that level of commitment. But that's only in the case of things like foalnapping, assassinations, and villain incursions, right? That doesn't mean you have to run your body into the ground like you've been doing, does it?" she asked.
Another stretch of him responding by being silent. The fact he even had to consider what the answer to the question was, was concerning.
"... No. It doesn't..." he eventually replied after a stretch that was far too long for her own comfort.
"Okay, so... help me out? Please? From one staff member to another, why do you do it? I mean, if you don't mind my asking? Why do you insist on working so much harder than anypony else when you don't have to?"
"... The only ponies I've ever told are Her Highness and her sister. If... if I tell you, I need you to keep this out of the gossip pool. This can't go any further than you, and can't leave this room."
The sudden shift in tone had caught Shammy off guard, leaving her surprised and slowly nodding in response as curiosity took over hard.
"I promise."
He glanced to his left, and she followed along as he glanced to his right, as if they were about to suddenly be invaded by a nosy interloper. And then he reached out with his magic and slowly shut the door behind them. Only then, only once the latch had been heard securing, and he was certain they were alone, did he turn back to her.
"There are a number of ponies serving here in the Palace Division of the Royal Guard that have families. Families that need just as much of their attention as their duties require of them. I'm not one of them. I don't have any family that has to be taken into account for managing my time. No parents, no siblings, no offspring, not even a pet. The reason that I can work more hours than others, is simply because I have more hours than others, that don't have to be set aside for maintaining other engagements and responsibilities," he explained, his voice soft as he spoke as if what he was sharing with her was a matter of national security itself.
This wasn't the sort of thing she'd been expecting him to be telling her. Not with all the secrecy he was insisting upon.
But before she even had the chance to respond and share her opinion on the matter, he was already talking again.
"The more overtime that I can pull and work, the less there is for other ponies to be saddled with. The more shifts that I can take and cover, the more time that other ponies who do have families can share with them, that they wouldn't otherwise be able to," he explained.
She didn't want to admit it, but it took longer than she was comfortable with to decipher and understand what he was saying.
"You're... working yourself like a dog, so other guards can spend more time with their families?" she asked.
Again, he didn't immediately respond.
"When I first came to the palace to work as a Royal Guard, I thought the work I'd be doing here would be like what we were trained for at the Academy. But then I learned that wasn't the case, and the Academy was a much harsher environment to experience. How to walk, how to stand, how to salute in a crisp enough manner, how to keep your back aligned for pushups, how to perform calisthenics, how to speak loud enough for the Drill Instructor to hear you... none of that applied here.
"It took me a long time to understand that... Her Highness is content with the quality of our work, so long as we're simply doing our best, and doesn't demand that we adhere ourselves to the same rigid, unforgiving standards that were drilled into us at the Academy. That a certain amount of leeway is permissible in our conduct so long as we remain professional, and do our jobs to a satisfactory degree. That... very few ponies actually care about who pulls what shift, and whether or not the name of the Guard who pulls the shift corresponds with the name on the time card that's stamped, so long as the work is shown as actually being done."
"... Why?" she asked, it being the only question she actually could get out in response to what she'd just heard.
"... Like I said, any one of us could die at any moment in the performance of our duties. Any one of us could be required to throw ourselves in front of a spear intended for royalty and take the blow intended for them. Be required to leave behind everything we have because our duty demands it of us. Leave behind everypony because our duty demands it of us. Leave behind foals far too young to understand that... that their parents loved them even if they weren't there all the time..."
He actually had to pause his explanation to take a breath to steady himself.
"What's a few hours out of my time, if it means some foal will get one more day with their parents that they might not get otherwise?"
Out of any number of possible explanations Shammy could've received to justify Thunder's insane work ethic, all of the speculation that went on behind the scenes to try and make sense of the stallion, this definitely wasn't one of the ones she'd anticipated hearing.
Without a word, she crossed the short distance between them, and proceeded to pull him into a hug. A very tight, very vigorous hug with both forelegs and wings.
"That's one of the nicest things I've ever heard," she stated, before pulling back to look him in the eyes. "But, I don't understand, why don't you want the other guards to know? If they knew they might be able to pitch in and help out. You wouldn't have to be doing it all on your own-"
"You were kind enough to answer my question, it was only right for me to do the same in turn. I didn't tell you about it to get anything in return," he stated simply. "A Royal Guard doesn't seek recognition for the work that they do. We're not glory hounds. If a Guard receives recognition, then it's because they've done something to warrant being recognized for their service in the first place.
"Increased attention just brings more problems. Just knowing that other staff members are paying closer attention to me, and actually noticing me like they are, is enough to make me feel uncomfortable. It's happening for all the wrong reasons, because I'm in a compromised state that's making me a liability. I'd rather go back to being unnoticed in the background as just another Royal Guard."
Shammy really wasn't liking the direction this whole conversation was taking. And she didn't have anypony but herself to blame for it. If she hadn't poked like she had, then she wouldn't know what she currently knew. Maybe that was why he asked her to not let others know? So that they didn't have to feel what she was feeling right now?
"Alright," she sighed and nodded, "I won't tell anypony. But I do have another question. The guards you've been pulling duty for so they can spend more time with their families? What's going to happen to them if you suddenly drop dead from exhaustion and can't cover for them anymore?"
"I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. "Making it all the more important that I get back onto duty as fast as I can."
She had to resist the urge to groan in response. He really was hopeless.
Hopeless, and stubborn like a mule.
Hopeless, stubborn, and with a heart that was bigger than his brain and stronger than his common sense.
"Alright then. I guess I'd better let you get settled in, if you're going to recover enough to get back to work," she said as she finally let him go and passed him the room key. "Will you be eating with the others, or would you prefer your meals brought here?"
The look on his face did much to suggest he'd never even contemplated the idea before, leaving him nearly dropping his key as he stood there.
"Why would I... be eating in here instead of the mess hall?" he asked.
"On second thought, never mind. It's not important," she stated, figuring it just wasn't worth the effort of getting into a discussion about room service if he wasn't familiar with its point on his own. "Anyway, I'll see you later."
And just like that, she departed from the room, leaving Thunder alone as the door closed behind her.
"So then. How exactly does a pony go about relaxing?" he asked himself.
Glancing around the room again revealed nothing that might give him an indication of holding the answer to the presented question.
He tried to think, tried to recall some detail that might hold the solution he was looking for. But nothing like this had ever come up during his time at the Academy. There had been no classes on what a pony was supposed to do when it came to the matter of relaxation. He was going to need to figure this one out on his own.
"I'll check the palace library and see what I can find there," he told himself. "Maybe there's a book on the subject that I can read and research."