The Golden Rule

by B_25

II – Of Blueblood and the Tailor

“Good morning, my little ponies,” Celestia says. Her voice is like a gentle song, motherly and teacherly at the same time.

“Good morning, your majesty,” Shining Armour says, rising. You follow suit at a careful pace, not wanting to slip up. “May I present to you the good Captain, who was responsible for the immaculate parade yesterday?”

A little part of you objects. That's not entirely true. You drilled your platoon, and Shining Armour's return had a lot to do with your efforts that afternoon. But you daren't speak up.

“Ah, yes,” Celestia says, turning her head to smile at you. For a brief moment, you are overcome with an immensely warm and pleasant feeling. “It was truly a wonderful thing to see.”

You dip your head in reverence again, if only to alleviate yourself from her eyes for a second. Thankfully, any urge to react to her praise is totally overwhelmed by fear and slight nausea.

“I have asked him if he wishes to serve you, as was my recommendation, your majesty,” Shining Armour says again as you raise your head.

“And what did he say?” Asks Celestia. For a moment, you believe she is genuinely curious about the answer, even though it is painfully obvious what it will be.

“He said he would be most honoured.”

Celestia smiles slightly.

“Very well.”

Celestia steps down off her throne, trotting forward to you. Immediately, you return to kneeling again, filling your vision with crimson. The only indication you have of Celestia's presence is the sound of her rhythmic hoofsteps padding on the carpet before you. They soon stop.

Like a radiant, glittering body of light, she stands before you. You don't even need to be looking up to see that. Some way to your left, Shining Armour does a sharp turn, bringing his hooves together in attention.

“Captain,” he says, his voice solemn and loud. “Before the eyes of gathered ponies, I charge you with the task of protecting our most royal majesty, Princess Celestia. Do you swear by all that you hold dear to protect to her majesty from this hour henceforth, in peace or troubled times, in living or dying, and to serve her with all your heart and soul, and if need be, your life?”

“I swear it on my life,” you reply, raising your head slightly so that you might be heard, but not daring to gaze above Celestia's chest. “Until death takes me, or the world ends, I shall not tire of my guard.”

Celestia speaks.

“Then I say to you; rise, Captain.”

You do so, and bring your head up to gaze upon Celestia. Again, her stare pierces through you, and you willingly expose yourself to it, no matter how much it makes you nervous. Her horn seems to shimmer brightly with a power you have never known. Wisps of magical light float gently around her mane, and her magenta eyes glow brightly, two pinpricks of light in the halo of light that surrounds her.

“Do you have anything to say to me, Captain?” she asks, in a voice so filled with power that makes your coat prickle, gazing down at you. For a second, you are overcome with the feeling that she speaks to you and only you, and that there is no other in the room.

“Only that you honour me, your majesty,” you say. They weren't the words you were expecting to tumble out of your mouth, but for some reason, you were momentarily overcome by some unbearable urge to speak your heart.

“Then I welcome you to my guard with humble thanks,” she replies softly, closing her eyes and bowing her own great head in respect. “You have offered me your life. I will not forget it.”

And just like that, the air seems to grow less tense. Something seals within the nether, and the aura of light that surrounds the Princess seems to grow less bright. Her hair dulls to its lesser splendour. The wisps disappear. Whatever visible remnants of Celestia's power seem to vanish, and for a brief moment, it is as if she was never different at all. She returns to the beautiful, silent queen she always was, leaving your soul ennobled and your spirits lifted.

Despite your intense focus on the princess, somewhere in the back of your mind, your heart skips a beat at the very thought that Princess Celestia is thankful. But you aren't thinking about that right now.

Celestia raises her head, re-opening her eyes. They have returned to their dulled state, though they still burn through you like no other.

“Thank you, Captain. You may leave now. I will have a guard show you to my quarters at a later stage.”

You bow your head once more, and take a few, careful steps backwards. Only when you are a sufficient distance away do you turn your back on Celestia and Shining Armour, striding towards the golden double doors. They open for you, and you slip out back into the long, carpeted hallway.

The golden doors roll shut with a soft boom, and you are on your own. Immediately, you let out a very, very long-held breath.

“Not bad, eh?” says a voice to your left. You turn your head to spy a white unicorn sitting on the steps by the golden doors, watching you with a sly smile on his face. He is not one of the door-wardens of Celestia, and you can see by his decoration and apparent abandon of formality that he is an officer, though of what kind you cannot say. He wears a jacket of immaculately pressed royal blue, matching his eyes and perfectly-kept mane of shimmering gold to a tee.

“Sir?” you inquire unsurely, using formality just in case. The unicorn lets out a high-pitched laugh, as if you have amused him, shaking his head and getting on all fours.

“The Princess, I mean, my dear friend,” he says, dusting his coat off. “She is magnificent, is she not?”

You cannot help but agree. You were bound to by respect and politeness, but this was one of rare the occasions where your somewhat excessive devotion to your Princess was well-placed.

“Yes, of course,” you say, your mind darting back to the conversation you had with Shining Armour only yesterday. “She is most radiant.”

“Ah, most radiant indeed, yes!” He replies enthusiastically, before turning his attention to the door guard. “Keep up the good work, Major.”

You frown. Major? If he was referring to the door-guard by his rank, then that would suggest an officer's rank. It's only then you notice the gold star pinned just under his left breast. You snap a quick salute. Again, the white unicorn chuckles.

“Easy, old boy,” he says, trotting towards you. “I'm no officer to you, though I believe my rank and title might be somewhere close to yours.”

The very way in which he holds himself, strutting towards you in a relaxed fashion, a casual smile carved across his chiselled, chivalrous face – says a lot about him. But you don't have time to think about that right now, as he's already before you.

“Blueblood, sir, just Blueblood,” he replies, holding out a hoof. “Sir or Brigadier or Lord, if you absolutely must. Her majesty's own and royal guard. And you?”

You state your name and rank, clasping his forehoof in your own. Blueblood appears satisfied, but at the mention of your rank, the smile on his face falters.

“What, ho? Just a Captain?” he says, frowning slightly. “Why... why, I find that to be most unusual. You must be most spectacularly influential!”

Sensing that now would be the right time (if there ever was one) to say that Shining Armour promoted you, you nod and smile back.

“Commander Shining Armour and I are acquainted."

Immediately, you feel his grip tense slightly, but the grin on his face still says 'friendly'.

“Oh, I see, I see!” He says, bringing his other forehoof to your back, an act that you aren't entirely comfortable with, given that you've just met him. “Just a Captain, yes, I see, that would be his first choice of a recruit.”

Feeling a little tension, you raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to ask if there is anything wrong, but already you are being steered down the hallway.

“But come! Come,” Blueblood says. “Let me introduce you to your fellow officers, with whom you will share the privilege of guarding her majesty.”

You take a different route to the quarters of the Princesses. Blueblood leads you at a leisurely trot that could almost be a swagger, and now that you're supposed to be looking around and learning the palace (and now that you're slightly less on edge), you take a moment every now and again to absorb some of the magnificence that surrounds you.

Of course, the floor is entirely polished white marble. It looks like nobody's ever set a hoof since it was laid, its perfectly immaculate sheen mirroring the frescos of the arched ceiling far above. Again, red velour carpets map the path from hallway to hallway, each like softly-spun silk in between your hooves.

“So, as I was saying,” Blueblood begins again, after a moment of silence. “Not bad, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” You reply honestly. It's more then just 'not bad'. It was extraordinary in every single way, and you don't just mean the castle. Its inhabitants were far more radiant.

“Ah!” Blueblood gives you a sideways grin. “No 'sir' now. Just Blueblood will do for you, my friend.”

You smile back. You think you're beginning to like this Blueblood character. He's certainly affable and amiable enough. You ask him how long he's been in the guard for, as you turn into another gigantic hallway.

“Ah yes, since I could hold a spear,” Blueblood replies. “I have served her majesty faithfully for many years. These halls are as much my home as they are her majesty's, now,” he says with a wistful sigh. “Many long years of service has left me most attached to her majesty. Her younger sister is somewhat less in my heart, though. She is not as well loved by the commoners, and even I must follow the peasants from time to time. And who can blame them? After all, it was not so long ago that she was feared as the enemy, wasn't it?”

The way he says 'commoners' makes you frown, but you agree with him nonehteless. Princess Luna had been under some hidden veil of quiet contempt from many of your fellows. Her night-guards, and those recruits who aspired to join it, were deemed as unsavoury characters by some. Not to you, of course. Celestia's word of her sister's loyalty upon her return had given you confidence in the night princess you needed. And, well... who could deny Celestia after seeing how great and powerful she was?

Blueblood notices your thoughtful quietness. “Yes, I also pray that will change over time.” He offers you another dazzling smile. “Princess Cadenza also holds a place in my heart, but then again, we are cousins, so perhaps that is to be expected of me.”

You feel your jaw drop a little bit. You're talking to royalty.

“Ah, see? I did not mention that I was,” Blueblood says, giving you a knowing, slightly smug look. “I wouldn't want to scare you into silence. I know how Commander Armour treats his subordinates.”

For a split-second, you're tempted to tell him about Shining Armour and his intentions. It's a good thing you don't, because Blueblood continues to talk as you take a quick right, leading through a slightly smaller, less magnificent hallway, and towards a slightly less ominous set of oak doors.

“You would do well to stay away from the commander,” he says, uttering the last word like it was a bad taste on his tongue. “Just a word of advice. I don't think his kind will be around here for very long.”

You get the uncanny feeling that Blueblood dislikes Shining Armour. Either way, it's none of your business, and you keep your mouth closed, just like you'd learned as a lieutenant.

Around you, you notice that the hallway around you no longer has all of the trappings of the path to the throne room, instead bearing only a few paintings of summer and spring forests, and that the floor is of a slightly less polished quality. The walls are not made of carved marble, but of chiselled stone, grey and tall. The floor-level windows offer you a look outside onto the castle lawns, but the view is less quiet and grand. It's almost as if the rest of the castle has been added on later, which strikes you as strange, for it seems to be much, much older. You like it just as much as you like the rest of the palace, for while it was not as impressive or lordly, it still blew you away, and the walls seemed to leak some kind of homely familiarity to you.

“Do you know that he speaks openly with her majesty?” Blueblood questions you, still slightly indignant. “Not nearly enough formality for such a role. Insubordination, I say.”

“Where are we?” You ask, eager to take the conversation out of dangerous waters before he asked you for your opinion.

“We're going to her majesty's quarters. Didn't you hear me, old boy?” Blueblood titters gaily. “For some reason, her majesty prefers to live in the older, less grand section of the palace. We call it the summer-house, for that is what the palace was in the days of yore – a hunting lodge and summer retreat, where Celestia lived after the war.”

You ask, very tentatively, what Celestia might ask you to do. To your surprise, Blueblood only shrugs.

“I'm afraid I can't say. Her majesty's wishes mean you mind spend one day on guard duty, and the next accompanying her as an envoy. The other, you might be the guard to her ambassadors. There are all sorts of things you can do. You might be lucky and get posted to Luna's observatory. The view from all the way up there is quite the treat.”

You frown, puzzled. You don't recall climbing any stairs. Where were you?

Blueblood smiles to himself again.

“Just take a glance out of the window to your right, there.”

Having been walking on Blueblood's right, you've only had cause to examine the left half of the hallway while he was speaking, out of politeness. You can't imagine how it would be different, but you turn your head anyway.

All the blood drains from your face. The hall is totally symmetrical, but from this side, the window provides not a glance of the gardens, but of Canterlot valley, a thousand feet below. You quickly gallop over for a look, but you slow as you approach the window, just in case you slip or... or something.

Tenatively, you pause a few feet away from the crystal window, and lean close, peering down. Yes, you weren't dreaming. As you peek out of the fine glasswork, you can see a mighty clifface and a sheer drop before you. You realise that this part of the castle, and consequently, the entirety of Celestia's living quarters, Luna's observatory and all, is suspended in the air, and all that stands between you and a terrifyingly long fall is the window pane.

You take a few steps backward, feeling a bit nervous.

Blueblood's laughter causes you to turn back. The lordly unicorn watches you with a half-amused smile.

“Like I said, not bad, eh? I suppose the view makes up for the lack of grandeur?”

You reply, slightly breathlessly, that you thought the view made her living quarters much more magnificent than the throne room. It's an earnest statement, perhaps inspired more by your giddiness than anything. You love nature, and you always have. For a moment, Blueblood frowns at you, as if something bothers him, but he seems to brush it away, shrugging once more and trotting forward again.

“Each to their own.”

You reach the unattended doors, and you realise suddenly that you haven't seen a guard in at least five minutes, since you left the long path to the throne room.

“Oh, yes,” Blueblood says, pausing to glance back down the hallway. “Only her majesty or her guards get to come through here, though. Foreign dignitaries go straight to the throne room, where they await her majesty's pleasure. This is our territory,” he says proudly.

You both resume your steady trot, and when you reach the red oak doors, Blueblood pushes through them open with a soft rumble. You follow through, tentatively.

Celestia's quarters are... jarring, to say the least. You've trotted from the cathedral-like magnificence of the palace into another world entirely, and this world is very green. The trickling of water makes your ears prick, and the smell of life fills your lungs. It's a wonderful aroma.

The room is long, tall, slightly rectangular, and absolutely filled with plants of all kinds. It's like you've walked into a miniature forest. The slightly angled roof follows the walls and is supported by immense, sandstone columns. Instead of a ceiling, though, the entire roof is made of pure glass, allowing the sun to pierce through. In the centre of the room, a large, many-tiered stone fountain is sunken into the floor, with steps leading to its edge. It burbles softly, the sunlight dancing off of its crystalline waters and shimmering off of the stone ceiling. There are three sets of carved stone double-doors, one for each of the remaining compass directions.

“This is her majesty's antechamber,” Blueblood says. “We call it the greenhouse, for obvious reasons. But wait just a moment, will you?” He says.

You glance over to Blueblood, and see him cupping his forehooves to his mouth.

“I say, Merryweather! Are you in here?” Blueblood yells. You jump, despite having prepared for it.

“Hullo!” Calls a similiarly regal voice. “Don't shout, I'm coming!”

There's a trotting of hooves from some way to your left, and the stone double-doors open. A unicorn trots out, looking around for the noise.

“Merryweather!” Blueblood replies, grinning broadly. “Come and meet our newest recruit.”

“Ah! Splendid!” Merryweather cries, trotting around the edge of the large room briskly, his voice cutting in and out between the pillars. “I've heard you were coming! Let's have a look at him, then!”

You feel a bit unusual being inspected like this, but when Merryweather comes closer, you can see how he might think of such a thing as normal.

He's an older unicorn, and his coat is an ivory white, just like blueblood. His mane is a memoir of prosperity - full and thick yes, but many shades of grey, some darker than others. On his upper lip he has an extremely well-kept and waxed moustacio of a similar tinge, and over one eye he bears a monocle, concealing a set of eagle-like amber eyes. He wore the uniform of a royal officer, blue and gold armour, though he lacked the crested helm that you took for granted. He reminded you of a drill sergeant, but without the pace stick, and a good deal more seasoned.

“Major Merryweather is a veteran of twenty-five years,” Blueblood says to you, not-so-quietly. “They wanted to make him a general when he retired, but the mad old coot settled for the royal guard instead.”

“I heard that!” Merryweather barks. Blueblood laughs in his faux-pas, high-pitched giggle again, and you grin in what you hope is your best amused smile as Merryweather draws near.

“May I present the good Captain, who will be joining us?” Blueblood says, nodding his head in your general direction. Merryweather's eyebrows rise in barely-concealed surprise, though his thin lips are hidden behind his moustache.

“Captain, is it? Great Scott, boy, you must be an extraordinary one. Colonel Merryweather, or just Merry if you please,” he says, offering you a hoof.

“A pleasure and an honour, sir,” you reply, taking the unicorn's hoof, for once convinced of your words.

“Where's Dechant?” Blueblood says. Merryweather glances away from you.

“Oh, I'm not sure. I believe he's making ready this lad's quarters. Guess where Celestia put him?”

“The royal barracks in the east wing, I would expect?”

“Err... no, actually. The archives.”

Blueblood's eyes widen. “The archives? Are you sure? I thought that room was... well, a giant library.”

“Yes, I'm positive,” Merryweather replies, looking similarly bemused. “I heard Celestia ask the royal decorator herself. Something about her student wanting to come and visit more often, and her not having suitable housing, whatever that means. He's in the old librarian's room. Celestia took a few of her old books out of there herself just the other day.” Merryweather passes you a grin. “You'll be sleeping in the archives,” he says again, as if you hadn't heard. “It's a bit of an unusual choice, I know, but trust me, it looks nothing like a dusty old library now that the decorators have had a crack at it.”

You laugh and smile, and mumble that it hardly matters. It's a room within the Princess's quarter of the palace. You aren't complaining at all.

“Oh, I wasn't suggesting you were,” Merryweather says. “But we haven't had more than three private guards for a while, now. Celestia doesn't usually house her visitors, so we had to change a few things around,” he adds with a smile.

The clunk of stone on stone makes him glance to his left. “Ah! Here he is! Dechant, come and meet the Captain.”

“Captain?” Says a bold voice. You turn your head right to see the broadest, tallest draft stallion you have ever seen, trotting across the small plaza.

Unlike Blueblood and Merryweather, he is a grey, he is a pegasus, and he is utterly huge. His breastplate, coloured a peculiar blend of green and gold, must be the largest and most immaculately polished you've seen. His trots are at least one and a half times your strides, and almost immediately he's beside you, looking down at you.

“Captain eez a verry low rank to be a royal guard,” he says in a thick accent, smiling at you with white teeth. “The Princess must zink verry 'ighly of you.”

“Colonel Dechant here is from Prance,” Blueblood says. “He saved the lives of a dozen other pegasus during a run-in with some gryphons, and was given a gold star for his valour.”

Hoping you aren't betraying any of your fright from the colossal pegasus, you suck in a breath and laugh politely, shaking his hoof, which dwarfs your own. The Colonel looks down at you, a very faint scar drawn down the edge of one of his lime-green eyes not helping your nerves.

“I 'ave been preparing your quarters, Captain,” he says. “I 'ope zey are to your liking.”

“Well, it's probably better than my room at home,” you go out on a limb and say, jokingly. Merryweather chuckles in reply.

“And where is home for you, old boy?” Blueblood says, his lip curling in curiosity.

You mention the name of your town. A silence fills the air.

Merryweather is looking at the space in between the two of you, a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Just outside of Canterlot?” you add helpfully, passing your gaze to Blueblood. Blueblood has the same expression on his face.

“I don't recall there being any officer's academies there, Merry. Do you?”

“Can't say I do,” the older unicorn replies.

“Oh, no, sir,” you say, smiling ingratiatingly. “I joined as a private. I was promoted to Lieutenant, and I have been assigned to special duty.”

“...Oh? So you're not an enlisted officer?” Merry says. You glance back at him, and are quite surprised to see him regarding you strangely. The smile slips off your face.

“Well, yes, but only recently-promoted... Shining Armour asked after me to assist him while he attends to... personal business elsewhere.” Again, you finish lamely.

“So you've never been to her majesty's academy for officers in Canterlot?”

You look over at Blueblood again, eager to reply that you'd been trained at the barracks, but something about the look on Blueblood's face makes you pause. He's not smiling anymore. Just furrowing his brow, his blue eyes not quite meeting yours.

“No, I have not,” you say carefully. “I'm afraid it was... beyond my means.”

Your last words cut through the air like a knife.

“I see,” Blueblood says, drawing breath. “So, you're just a... commoner?”

There's that word again. It makes your skin crawl to hear him say it. And you don't think he's using it for lack of a better word for the working class.

You're not sure what to say now. Merry still looks at you unsurely. Blueblood is still... somewhat impassive. Colonel Dechant looks troubled, and watches Blueblood.

The oak front doors swing open, and the voice of the princes's voice breaks the silence. The four of you look over, and you see Celestia trotting around the fountain room towards you, accompanied by yet another young-looking alabaster unicorn wearing a rose-coloured dress, her purple mane falling behind her in immaculate, curled, violet locks.

You have to admit, you've never been so relieved to see royalty. It was starting to get a little more than awkward.

Celestia glances up and sees you, and once again, she does not so much seem to see you as she does peer into you. You tense up again.

“Captain,” Celestia says, greeting you with a warm smile before turning to your fellows. “Gentlecolts.”

In unison, the four of you lower your heads graciously. In doing so, you notice that Blueblood’s ‘bow’ is hardly more than a dip of his head, and that Dechant is so tall that his gesture involves him nearly doubling over.

“Good morning, your majesty!” Blueblood says, once again filled with a strange enthusiasm. “We were just greeting the captain here with open hooves.”

Feeling Celestia’s gaze flicker onto you, you raise your eyes. Two pools of magenta stare back, and for a moment that drags into an eternity, you are struck with the same terrified uncertainty that you experienced in the throne room. What makes it worse is that now you have no reason to avert your eyes. Your heart beats a tattoo against your chest, but you remain stony-faced, as always. Again, your subtle nervousness proves useful in staying absolutely quiet and unmoving.

“Good to know,” Celestia says softly, still looking at you. “Has he been shown around yet?’

“I was doing just that before you entered, marm,” Blueblood replies with a smile that you feel carries no warmth. The Princess appears satisfied by this response, but trots toward you anyway, a small smile gracing her face.

“Well, my business with Shining Armour didn't take nearly as long as I imagined. I have been blessed with some free time, and I’d hoped to be able to spend just a little bit of it showing him around myself.”

A tour of the most hidden part of the palace from Celestia herself… your poor heart! You can almost feel the days of your life slip away as it thuds against your chest with all the fierceness of a steam locomotive.

You see Blueblood’s eyebrow rise in surprise, but if he is, his voice reveals nothing.

“As you wish, your majesty,” he says evenly, turning to Merryweather and Dechant. “Come, you two. Let us leave our young Captain to explore.”

Merryweather nods wordlessly, and offers another bow to the Princess before turning and trotting away. Colonel Dechant passes you what you’re certain is a cold look before following suit, and together, the three of them pass back through the western, stone double-doors.

For a moment, your gaze lingers on the doorway, and you feel slightly nervous. You feel like your first impression on Blueblood and his decorated associates was poor, though you can’t pin down exactly why. The conversation would remain unfinished for now.

You turn back to the Princess and notice that the white unicorn mare is still by her side. You look at her expectantly. She smiles, and arches her perfectly plucked eyebrows, looking back at you as if to say ‘Yes, I am still standing here. Is there a problem with that?’.

The stone door clunks shut, throwing the foyer into silence, other than the slow trickle of water. You watch the mare unsurely. The mare watches you with such an unbothered air – like she’s not even standing next to the Princess herself! – and for a moment, you’re the one who feels out of place.

Thankfully, the Princess is the first to make the move.

“Captain,” she begins, causing you to lose your staring contest with the alabaster unicorn.

You look up at Celestia, who is once again smiling at you for reasons you can’t comprehend. It’s not a broad smile, just a soft one of contentment, and you’d swear that there was some private joke that she was enjoying, and that you were in the dark about.

“May I introduce a friend of mine, and one of the elements of harmony, Miss Rarity?” The Princess says, breaking her gaze to look down at the unicorn. “Rarity, this is the young Captain who is so very good friends with Shining Armour.”

Your nerves spike. Is the unicorn an element of harmony? As in, the elements of harmony? You glance back down at the little mare, who, despite being rather young and fetching, now appears just as intimidating as an officer.

“Miss Rarity,” you say, bowing your head and closing your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time that day. “It is a pleasure and an honour to meet you.”

The reaction is not what you’d expected.

“Oh my, what a gentlecolt! A pleasure to meet you, too!” a long, drawn out and overly posh voice says. She sounds genuinely delighted to meet you, and a high-pitched giggle of excitement reaches your ears, causing you to glance back up.

Woah! The little unicorn mare is now directly in front of you. You don’t know how she crossed the space between you in such a small amount of time, but you have little time to think as you are assaulted by a flurry of faux expressions, long, drawn out darlings and a very substantial invasion of your personal space. Rarity draws a long, white tape measure along your chest, chattering happily all the while.

“I don’t often get to take measurements for the royal guard, so you’ll have to excuse me for being a little bubbly,” she says with a titter, as if that adequately justifies her weird, cool-and-then-kind attitude.

“I, um,” you reply, totally unsure of what to say. Thankfully, Rarity takes the matter right out of your hooves, instead continuing to talk while she works her way around you.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking what size your armour is, darling,” she says, acting like she isn’t busily measuring your underbelly and (most worryingly) the inside of your back leg. “I’ve always wanted to make a royal guard’s jacket! The Princess asked me to do a favour, and I thought, absolutely, why not?”

Despite your years of stony training, you feel yourself becoming slightly flustered. Nopony has ever actually been so on top of you while you’ve been on duty. Usually, you were supposed to respond with force to this kind of thing, but when doing so clashed with common sense and the courtesy of a Princess? You force out your armour size, before glancing up at your monarch, stony-faced.

Celestia watches you both with barely-contained amusement. You understand what might be so funny now, but it’s not very funny to you. In fact, it makes you want to scowl. But you dare not. All you do is stare straight forward, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling of the tape measure snaking its way along your back.

“Rarity is a tailor,” Princess Celestia says to you. “I asked her this morning if she might be so kind as to do your uniform at some stage, and she arrived almost straight away. She’s also a friend of Shining Armour, though I wouldn’t imagine you two have ever met before.”

Feeling intensely nervous that the Princess is speaking to you, you nod to show that you understand, and after a while, you feel brave enough to glance down and speak to the mare, who is now peering closely at one of your hooves.

“You are acquainted with Commander Armour, Miss Rarity?”

Again, the unicorn beams at you.

“Oh, of course! He is an elder brother to a very dear friend of mine, who is also, coincidentally, the element of magic.”

You raise your eyebrows. You didn’t know too much about Shining Amour’s little sister. He had brought her up in previous conversations with you, but you’d never met. It seemed like a strange thing not to have bought up, though you could see the reason why he might not have wanted ponies to know. It was a rather boastful thing to talk about, and Shining Armour wasn't really one to tout himself. You can now understand how he might have been such a prodigy at the officer’s academy - magic was certainly in his blood.

“Well, I thank you for your generosity, Miss,” you say, still feeling slightly chagrined.

“Oh, it’s in the blood, darling,” Rarity says, in a chilling echo of your thoughts. She waves a pristine white forehoof at you in a 'so-so' sort of way as she finishes measuring your fourth leg, and her tape measure zips itself into a neat little ball. “Aaaaand done!”

Taking a step back, she admires you, smiling. “Thank you, Captain,” she says sincerely. “I hope I’ll see you and Shining Armour again.”

You can't be sure you feel the same way, but you nod and smile in reply.

“Goodbye, for now, Rarity,” Celestia says. The little unicorn turns and does a low, rather flourishing bow involving much uneccessary hoof waving.

“Thank you so much, Princess. I'll have him looking as dapper a gentlepony as I can manage.”

“Very well, my little pony,” Celestia replies, smiling. “Don't overwork yourself on my behalf, though.”

The unicorn gasps in what might have been shock.

“Think nothing of it, Princess! It is an absolute privilege.” She casts an eye over at you, passing you what you swear is a sultry smile.

“I'll be seeing you later,” Rarity chirrups, with a small, lady-like giggle. “Ta-ta!”

She vanishes with a small poof of smoke.

You are alone in the presence of the Princess now. You try to act like you haven’t just been assaulted, covering your rattled state with the unyielding demeanour that you’d learned so well.

Not well enough, it seems. Celestia laughs lightly at you, the slight smile still present on her lips. It sounds like the shattering of crystals, and it certainly shatters all the nerves in your body.

“...I’m sorry about that,” she says, apparently all too aware of your discomfort. “But she’s a very generous mare who enjoys her work, and a loyal friend of mine. I have to admit, I would have liked to tell you sooner about her coming, but then again, I didn’t expect for her to drop everything and report to me so quickly.” The Princess tilts her head slightly. “I doubt you’ve ever been so… unwillingly well-patted down, as it were.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a curious voice asks if the Princess really apologised to you. Another part is baffled that Celestia is evidently okay with this bossy little mare showing up whenever she pleased, and chatting to her like she wasn't a Princess at all. That she was among Celestia’s ‘friends’ stunned you even more. Did Princesses even have friends? Your mind ticks over these problems, and many more.

The majority of you, though, is quite ashamed that you couldn’t conceal your emotions well enough, even though you were ninety percent sure that you’d done a perfect job of it.

As a result of all these strange, conflicting feelings, you feel a little confused about how to reply. You were prepared for obedience and rigidity ever since you left the throne room, but all you’ve encountered thus far is a rather unmilitary and, dare you say it, normal air to it all. So you say nothing, merely nodding, just like you were trained.

The Golden Rule is in effect.

“Well then,” Celestia says, apparently unbothered by your silence. “Shall we look around?”

In midst of being traumatised for life, you scarcely remember the Princess' words. You say that you'd like that very much, though in reality, your stomach churns at the very thought.

“I have time to at least show you where you'll be staying,” she says, trotting towards you.

You remember you have a room here.

And then it hits you fully. You have a room here. You!

You spend a precious moment or two trying not to be totally overwhelmed by it all. You want to ask why she's giving you special treatment, but you dare not question the Princess.

“I knew you could not have lived in Canterlot or nearby,” she says, with a slight smile. “Many of my officers do; and some even return to their homes at night from the palace. Some have their own chambers in the royal barracks. But I thought to myself, Maine is an awfully long way away for anypony to commute every day. So I thought I might let you borrow the old librarian's quarters. Usually, my young student stays there, but I don't think she'll mind sleeping in one of the guest rooms. Oh, and it is free of charge, of course.”

Your maw relaxes slightly as you think to ask how she knew your thoughts. You want to ask a question, but you keep your mouth closed, thinking better of it. Immediately, you begin to worry.

Can Celestia read your thoughts?

“I cannot read your thoughts, Captain," she says, with an amused smile on her lips. "Just your face.”

You falter, feeling totally confused. You were sure you weren't that obvious. The sun Princess continues to smile as she walks by, her ethereal tail flowing slowly behind her.

“Now, come along, my little pony,” she says, awfully close to your ear. “You are very determined to be polite, and already I find that rather endearing about you, but I have much to show you before I go back to my duties.”

You're still staring straight ahead, but you can feel her gaze pass over you as she walks by, her majestic, teacherly voice both commanding and imploring at the same time.

Endearing?