What Hath Joined Together

by Bad_Seed_72


A Lion For A Day

A Lion For A Day

“Sir Flash Sentry?”

Greyhoof knocked again, his voice trembling as he rapped his forehoof on the oak. “Sir Flash Sentry, are you awake?”

The servant took a step back from the door and sighed, glancing at the weathered pocket watch in his hoof. It was already several minutes past the awakening call. It wasn’t like his master to slack off when it came to his duties.

As he put the watch back into one of the pockets of his suit, Greyhoof rustled a crumpled note lying in another. “Sire?” he called out once more, coughing a little. “Are you al—“

The door swung open so violently that the elderly stallion almost fell backwards onto his rump.

In the doorway stood Sir Flash Sentry, his mane a tangled, unsightly mess of haphazard blue. His eyes were a weary wilderness of empty iris and hollow pupil, endless blue on voidless black. With bags under his eyes and matted streaks on his cheeks, the pegasus stood there in silence, breathing heavily and almost shaking as he held the heavy door open.

“S-sire…” Greyhoof steadied himself against the doorframe and looked into the eyes of his master. He bowed quickly, then asked, “Are you—“

“No.”

For a moment, there was no sound in that threshold but Flash’s breathing, as slow and heavy as that of a stallion over twice his age. Greyhoof took a cautious step aside, then peeked around Flash’s flared wings.

All across the floor, Flash Sentry’s golden armor laid about in disarray. It was obvious that each sacred piece had been cast aside with purposeless rage. There were chips and cracks in a few of the pieces where hoof and concrete had met metal with particular force.

The holy spear had suffered the same treatment. Greyhoof narrowed his eyes through the silence and saw that it had been snapped in two after striking the great mahogany wardrobe in Flash’s closet, which had subsequently cracked upon impact. The weapon rested in uneven halves on the cold floor, its head and part of the shaft deeply embedded in one of the walls.

Somehow, Flash Sentry had literally snapped iron in two.

The old Earth pony let a little smile grace his muzzle for a second at the sight.

“What’s so funny?” Flash’s gruff voice brought Greyhoof to attention.

Like any loyal servant, Greyhoof turned towards his master’s voice. Unlike any other servant, he smiled up at his friend and said with a bit of a chuckle and an impressed grin, “I’ve never seen a pegasus snap a spear in two.”

At the word pegasus, Flash Sentry lowered his wings and turned around. Without a word, he stomped over to his bed and flopped onto his stomach. As he lay against the bare mattress, Flash Sentry stayed silent while Greyhoof closed and locked the door behind him.

“So…” Greyhoof looked down at the mess of armor. “I suppose that first day in Princess Twilight’s Royal Court didn’t go so well?”

Flash rolled over onto his side and brought his pillow to his face. “Not at all, Greyhoof,” he said, muffling the venom in his voice.

“Ah.” Flattening his ears, Greyhoof muttered, “I’m sorry to hear that.” He leaned down and began gathering the pieces of Flash’s armor into a pile. They clacked and clanged against each other, making Flash wince with every minute noise.

Flash sighed and threw his pillow off the bed. He shook his head as he rose to his hooves. “No, Greyhoof, don’t. I’ll clean that up.”

Greyhoof looked over at him. “But, si—“

“I made the mess,” Flash said quietly, grabbing the blue saddle blanket in his teeth. I’m not going to have you cleaning up after my dumb mistakes. He groaned and shook his muzzle as he flung the saddle blanket back onto the bed.

“I know you did.” Greyhoof walked over and started pulling at the end of the spear that was embedded in the wall with both forehooves. Grimacing with pained effort, he added, “I figured something terrible must have happened yesterday to warrant all of this.”

Flash hurried over and placed a forehoof on Greyhoof’s shoulder. “Here, let me get that,” he said with a frown. I don’t want you to hurt yourself due to my foalishness, either.

Greyhoof watched as Flash Sentry freed the embedded half of the spear out of the wall with a few tugs. Flash then set the broken spear aside, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. Nothing can fix this.

With a laugh, Greyhoof mused, “Well, is there anything you do want me to do for you this morning, Sir Flash Sentry? Or am I just in the way?”

Flash frowned. “You’re never in the way, Greyhoof.”

Greyhoof chuckled and reached inside one of his pockets. “Ah, you’re too kind, sire.” Wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, he said, “Though, if there is something I can do for you, I might have a better excuse for delaying…”

Flash turned around, his eyes widening. “Delaying?”

Greyhoof put his handkerchief away and withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket. Before he could make it readable, Flash snatched it from his open forehoof.

“Delaying giving you this, sire.”

Flash straightened the note as quickly as he could. In Captain Ironhoof’s heavy hoof-writing, the note simply stated:

“Flash Sentry. My office. ASAP.”

A wave of nausea washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths. The piece of parchment fell to the floor. For a moment, Flash Sentry was silent again.

“Sire?”

Flash looked in the mirror of the wardrobe, then his forehooves.

In his mind’s eye, he saw her forehoof between them.

Greyhoof gently laid a forehoof over his shoulder. “Sire?”

“Greyhoof…” Flash sucked a lungful of air between his teeth, trying his best not to shake.

“… Yes?” Greyhoof pressed his forehoof more firmly down on his shoulder.

Flash paused, taking a breath through his nostrils. His shoulders slumped as he sat down on his haunches and stared at the concrete below his hooves. “Did you…

“Did you hear what happened yesterday?”

Greyhoof shook his head. “No, sire,” he said, almost in a whisper.

A moment passed.

Then, Flash stammered, his voice near inaudible, “I… I… I…

“I did it, Greyhoof.”

Flash Sentry shifted, looking past his shoulder at his friend. He smiled faintly, then returned his eyes to his hooves.

“I finally did it.”

Greyhoof swallowed. “Do you mean you… You tol—“

“No.”

He said it with the same amount of force as when he’d finally opened the door.

Flash Sentry turned around, leading Greyhoof’s forehoof off his shoulder and back against his side. “No, but I… I kissed her.”

Greyhoof’s eyes widened to the size of suns, nearly bulging out of his bewildered skull.

Quickly holding up his forehooves, Flash began to turn crimson as he sputtered, “No, no, no! Not like that! I… I mean…

“It was a courtly kiss. On the hoof.”

Looking away, Greyhoof muttered with a bit of a blush on his cheeks, “Oh… I see…”

Silence.

“Well…” Greyhoof looked up and rose to his hooves. Unable to hold back a coy little chuckle, he nudged Flash in the ribs, one stallion to another. “Well… you did it, Flash. You finally did it.”

Flash grinned for a fraction of a second in reply. He turned away in a combination of embarrassment and daydream. “Yeah…”

“But…” Sighing again, Greyhoof plucked Captain Ironhoof’s note from the floor and set it on Flash’s nightstand, shaking his muzzle at it. “I suppose that’s what this little thing’s all about.”

Flash tilted his head. “You aren’t… angry at me, Greyhoof?”

Greyhoof flared his nostrils in puzzlement. “Angry? Why would I be angry, dear boy?”

“Because I…” Standing up, Flash stretched his wings and ran a forehoof through his mane to flatten it. “I stepped out of line. I did it… of my own accord.”

Greyhoof raised an eyebrow. “Oh? She did not gesture for you to do so, sire? You did it… on your own?

His eyes darting from the note on the nightstand, to Greyhoof, then back again, Flash swallowed before folding his wings back to his side and standing up a little straighter. “Ye—yeah.”

“Hmm. And how did she react?”

Tangerine-orange cheeks melted before a scarlet flame. Willing his wings to stay put, Flash fidgeted a bit before he managed, “I… I think…”

Flash paused, swallowing hard. In a few words, he breathed life into his greatest fear.

“I think she… she liked it.”

With a smirk and a chuckle, Greyhoof reached up and patted his shoulder, whispering between his teeth, “Good show, boy. Good show.”

Flash raised an eyebrow. “Greyhoof?”

Ignoring him, Greyhoof went to work picking up the knight’s armor and setting it on the bed. Flash shuffled his hooves and watched in silence, tilting his head. ’Good show’? I’m probably going to get—

He shivered as that same wave of nausea stabbed at his stomach. —Fired for this. And who’s going to take in a disgraced ex-Guard? Certainly not my father.

Once the assortment of golden armor had been moved from the floor to the mattress, Greyhoof trotted weakly over to Flash again, raising a forehoof as he bowed. “Please step aside, Sir Flash Sentry. I must get your armor polish.”

“Armor polish?” Flash held back the urge to scoff. “Greyhoof… Do you have any idea what this means?” Not to insult you, but your age is showing…

After I talk to the Captain, I won’t need to polish a single piece of armor anymore.

The old stallion ignored him again and stepped past him, grabbing a bottle of polish from the wardrobe. Bringing a forehoof to his chest, Flash stood firm as he continued, “This mess—this whole thing’s a mess! It doesn’t matter anymore!” His voice began to shake and rise in pitch, his heart quickening its pace in distraught recognition.

Picking up the bottle with a forehoof and securing a clean rag in his mouth, Greyhoof calmly walked over to the bed and set both down. He picked up Flash’s chestplate and began to polish it, applying a generous amount of the liquid and scrubbing at it with the rag.

Flash stomped the floor, the thud of his keratin echoing in the cold room. Narrowing his eyes in misplaced rage, he addressed his servant with brewing fury. ”Greyhoof!”

Looking up from his work, Greyhoof continued working and asked, “Yes, sire?”

“Why…” Flash bit his lip. “Why are you doing this?”

“Well…” Greyhoof paused and looked over his shoulder, a small smile forming on his muzzle. “Your armor needs polishing, Sir Flash Sentry. It got a bit scuffed, as you can see.”

Flash shook his muzzle rapidly, his patience beginning to wane. “No! Why are you… why are you even bothering, Greyhoof?”

Greyhoof set the tools down and tilted his head. “’Bothering?’”

“Yes!” Groaning, Flash stared at him and gestured toward the note on the nightstand. “You see what this message means? After what I just told you?! What do you think the Captain is going to do to me after… after what I did?”

Flash whirled around and bit his tongue, his wings flaring in anger. One moment… one moment for everything. Everything and nothing.

… Was it really worth it?

The soft patter of hooves against his floor and the comfort of one resting on his shoulder should’ve made Flash Sentry turn around, but he didn’t.

“Flash…” Unfazed by his outbursts, Greyhoof lowered his voice and addressed him with a gentle tone. “What you did was very, very brave. Any stallion worth his salt cannot truly deny that.”

“Like it matters now,” Flash mumbled, huffing.

Greyhoof patted his shoulder again. “Maybe not. For you did… well, honestly, a stupid thing. Something I agree with, yes. Something brave, yes. But something stupid all the same. At least, those who believe themselves to be wise think it is so.”

Flash stood there, stone and statue and silent. He took his breaths slowly as he stared off into nothingness.

“But…” Greyhoof removed his forehoof and stood beside Flash Sentry, looking up at him with a new fire in his old eyes. “The ancients had a saying, dear boy…

“’Better be a lion for a day, than a sheep all your life.’”

Greyhoof bowed with a grin on his muzzle, low and deep. “And,” he said as he rose up, “I wouldn’t let any lion of mine look like anything but the distinguished knight he is… even on his final day.”

Finally meeting Greyhoof’s eyes, Flash couldn’t deny the unmistakable sadness in them. Neither could he deny the truth of that statement, which began to cycle again and again within his mess of a mind—a mantra he would carry with him through this final morning.

A lion for a day.

Flash Sentry wasn’t sure of how long he stood there, listening to the rough sensation of hooves, barely concealed by cloth, rubbing against metal.

Sometime after the scrubbing died down, Greyhoof tapped him on the shoulder again, a manebrush in his mouth and a question in his eyes.

For the first time in many, many mornings, Flash Sentry let Greyhoof brush his mane.

Better than a sheep for the rest of my life.