//------------------------------// // A Royal Pain // Story: The Guardian // by Karrakaz //------------------------------// Being her father's daughter —that is to say, a princess— was far from easy. Quite the opposite actually. Being a princess meant that she had the obligation to maintain her image. Time that belonged, ‘not to herself, but to her people’ as her father put it. It was one of the few things she didn’t question, and perhaps even agreed with him on. In theory, he should have been the one to attend the ribbon cutting that was held the next day— a grand opening for the newest wartime museum where several iconic artifacts of the previous rulers of Unicornia would be displayed. King Diamond, however, occupied his time with training, tournaments, and the burdens of rule. In practice, it meant that, unlike a bodyguard, which Rarity did just fine without, her schedule loomed over her on any given day. That wasn’t to say that she minded so much. Getting out of the castle—even if she were still flanked by a platoon of guards— was always a welcome change. And the following days were filled to the brim with time consuming, albeit uneventful appointments. Acting as an intermediary between the easily spooked envoy of the Zebras to the east, for example. The poor mare would have called for war between their countries if left alone with her father and his brusque demeanor for more than a minute. Lastly, and certainly least in Rarity's opinion, was the evening banquet on the second day, to which all of her father's high ranking supporters had been invited. When she was younger the dinners had seemed far more grand. The fancy dresses, the elaborately prepared food, the somewhat racy conversation. It had all seemed like a lovely dance of movement and sound she had found to be quite delightful. Over the years, however, the friendly looks she had always gotten from her various ‘uncles’ had twisted into lecherous leers. Not only that, but her father had gone and completed the betrayal she felt by hiring a dozen ‘professional’ mares for every dinner he had held thereafter. It felt as though she had been reduced to no more than a piece of flank for the dukes to ogle. A nice piece of flank mind, she did take good care of herself after all, but still no more than a pretty face. The feeling was further compounded by the fact that her own friends had long since stopped attending the gatherings and so the banquets had turned into more of a punishment than anything else. To say that any such a ‘party’ put her in a bad mood would be an understatement, and the following morning did not do much to improve it. “I want you to meet with them personally. Dine with them, make smalltalk, that sort of thing. Give them the attention I would have given them myself had they been at the banquet last night.” Rarity opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t either whining or simply an outright groan. Eventually she settled on a simple word that never the less conveyed some of her frustration with the pony seated across from her. “Father...” Diamond was treating the whole conversation as if she were just some servant to be ordered about. Worse, as though she was merely somepony to be used. Somepony whose opinions didn’t matter. It was infuriating. Even if she shouldn’t have expected otherwise after having been called into her father’s office. It was off-limits to all but Bulwark and herself, which showed in the piles upon piles of dust and long neglected scrolls. “Father,” Rarity repeated, trying very hard to keep the anger she felt out of her voice. “I already made plans of my own for this afternoon and—” “Cancel them,” Diamond replied disinterestedly. “This is more important.” Rarity took a deep breath. Having her wishes be ignored was a common theme while talking to her father, but he was still the king, and one who was quick to anger at that. “And why is it so important, if I may ask?” Her father let out a deep sigh and lowered the scroll he was reading to look at her. “Because, my daughter, when one rules a country, intelligence is vital. A ruler needs to know what their enemies are planning, and where their supporters stand. The world is full of ponies who would backstab us in a heartbeat if they thought it would improve their standing.” He put the scroll down and stepped around the table until he was next to her. “Which is why I want you to meet with them and gauge their disposition.” Rarity looked at the floor, feeling some of her anger ebb away. Her father might have been inconsiderate and often times downright rude, but he wasn't stupid. As much as she hated the way he treated her, seeing him harmed—or dead— was not what she wanted. “And what am I supposed to do if their disposition is... unfavorable?” Diamond rolled his eyes. “Smile. Thank them for their continued support, and inform me of your findings when you get back.” “Yes, father.” Rarity got up and made for the door. She was still a little miffed about having her afternoon appointments so rudely dismissed, but at least she still had some time for herself in the morn— “Oh, and another thing, Rarity. I want you to sit in on open court this morning.” Her anger boiled back to the surface and she had to swallow a few times to keep herself from expressing her frustration. “As you wish, father.” She didn’t have to ask for the reasoning behind that particular request, his answer was always the same: Because you need to learn what ruling is like. Not that she was actually allowed to do anything besides observe, but her father brooked no argument on the matter. Court was uneventful, as she had expected it would be. There were the standard accusations and even an arrest which at the very least ensured that it did not become boring, but Rarity was still not happy with the way her day had been filled in for her. After it had ended, she barely had enough time to take a proper bath and groom herself before having to rush to the carriage that would take her to the place her father’s supporters would meet. It was an upscale restaurant that frequently catered to the nobles, and as soon as she stepped inside, she noticed that some of her friends were also present. A welcome distraction, although her business would be with their fathers more than the girls themselves. She would have loved nothing better than to talk to them about Canterlot, and ask about everything they’d seen. Instead, she sat down at an elongated table talking to a pair of... ‘generously sized’ stallions. That wasn’t even the worst of it, as both of them oogled her flanks more often than she was comfortable with, though they at least kept their hooves to themselves. “Good day, Princess. How fares the king?” One of the dukes, who went by the name of Heavy Set asked, trying to keep an eye on both Rarity and the food that he had ordered mere seconds ago. It was common knowledge that he liked good food and pretty mares. In essence, he was the ponification of gluttony and Rarity's dislike for him bordered on loathing. She had to will herself to sit still under his obvious glances. Fidgeting would only let them know she was uncomfortable—which she knew could later be used as an excuse for hostilities. Father will most certainly be hearing about this, she thought darkly. On her face however, she placed a demure smile. “He is as busy as ever. If it isn’t discussing law or rule with his counsel he is either training himself to exhaustion or encouraging his guards to do similarly.” The second duke, Mint Swirl, was one of those stallions that believed his children should share his last name, and there were a great many of them. From the way he was looking at Rarity, it very much seemed as though he would love for her to be the mother of his next children, even if he was old enough to be her father twice over. It made her even more uncomfortable. "So busy that he cannot spare the time for some of his most trusted supporters?" the stallion asked good naturedly. "I'm afraid so," Rarity replied without missing a beat. "Yesterday’s banquet was sufficiently hectic that many important duties had to be put off until today. I'm sure you can relate." The duke nodded disinterestedly, his eyes roving across her back without having even the decency to be subtle about it. “And has he given you permission to find a good strong stallion? Stars know that a beautiful mare like yourself should have a strong stallion as a husband. One you can depend upon in rough times such as these.” Rarity shuddered internally. Not in your lifetime, you piece of manure. The duke had married three times and none of those marriages had ended well for the mares he had proposed to. She had heard rumors that he had poisoned his second wife, though proof had never been found, and the first and third had nothing left after their divorce from him. “Some would disagree with that statement, duke," she replied with a hint of a smile. It was a smile she had fought hard to bring forward, but would hopefully strengthen her position a tad. "I do not believe the times are as dire as some ponies say, and even if they were..." She paused to take a sip of wine that had been put in front of her. "My love life has been at my own discretion for a long time. That being a given, I am sure you of all ponies can understand that finding the right partner can be the search of a lifetime. I intend to get it right the first time.” "I understand," Mint Swirl said jovially, although his expression was one of a pony who had just eaten something particularly sour. It only lasted for a moment, and the next he was already smiling again as though nothing had happened. “Though I believe that love at first sight is just a fairytale, Princess. You need but ask our fair king.” His seemingly casual remark hit Rarity like a kick to the gut. “My mother’s banishment had nothing to do with a lack of love,” she replied hotly. “The rumors paint a different picture,” Mint Swirl said with a shrug, picking up his wineglass and swirling it around before taking a sip. In the back of her mind, a small voice told her that antagonising him would only cause problems, but she couldn’t find it within herself to forgive him for spreading lies about her mother. It was with a venomous glare that she replied: “Rumors? Like the ones that suggest that you ruin your wives when they no longer interest you?” The hulking stallion did a spit take, coughing as some of the wine disappeared down his airways and scowling at Rarity. “How dare you imply such a thing!” For a moment it seemed as though he would lunge across the table and attack her; a notion that her guards seemed to have guessed at as well. Before anything happened however, a pleasantly deep voice spoke up. “It’s not an implication, Duke. More like common speculation. That doesn’t mean that the princess, or anypony of note actually believes it to be true, but you know how ponies gossip.” All three of them turned to the new voice, Rarity smiling gratefully upon seeing who it was while the dukes each barely suppressed scowls. Filthy Rich, despite his name and shockingly unregal brown coat, was a lot more pleasant on the eyes than either of his peers and very much unlike the other nobles that always got an invitation to her father’s parties. Not only was he one of the only ponies to have worked himself up from a lowly commoner to the lofty position of baron, but he was an earth pony. Under the previous king such a thing would have been impossible, but her father did not harbor the same prejudices as most of his subjects did, and had given Filthy Rich the title on the basis of his excellent tactical insight and mental acumen. Technically, he fell under the dukes in the chain of command, but being one of the richest stallions in the entire kingdom meant he had the means to afford a sizable army of his own. He was ambitious and a staunch supporter of her father’s expansionist ways. And he was more polite and charming than any of the stallions currently at the table, possessing a shrewd mind for politics on top of everything else. In short, he was one of the most dangerous stallions she knew; and he had just saved her from making a huge blunder. “Baron Rich,” she said by way of thanks, holding out a hoof to him and adding an almost imperceptible nod to the smile she graced him with. “Princess Rarity,” he replied, bowing and kissing the hoof she held out for him. Her favor towards him merely adding another item to the long list of reasons he drew the ire of the other nobles. “A pleasure to see you again. My deepest apologies for my absence from our sovereign’s party. There were troubles at home I had to deal with.” Rarity titered and smiled at him again. “Think nothing of it, Baron Rich. It is always a pleasure to see you. I hope they didn’t have anything to do with bandits this time?” Just like that the hostilities from a moment ago were shoved under the carpet and left to shimmer while the conversation returned to a semblance of respectability. The baron sat down next to Rarity, though he kept a respectful distance. He shook his head. “Nothing so serious, though the subject is better left undiscussed lest we spoil our appetites.” “That might be for the best,” Mint Swirl groused. Though she was happy to talk with him, adding Filthy Rich into the mix made her task much more difficult. For all his strengths, he was greedy, and the most likely to enrich himself off of other’s suffering; and for all his support, he could hardly be called loyal. It was merely one more part of her obligation towards her father, she supposed. Ensuring that there was enough enmity between her father’s supporters, not so much that they attacked one another, but enough to keep them from banding together against their sovereign. The food arrived, brought out in great quantities which would keep most of her table partners occupied for a long while. It only gave her a little time, but she took what she could get. With a small apology she got up and made her way over to the other side of the restaurant where Strawberry Swirl and Moondancer were seated at a smaller table close to the window. The mares were laughing amongst themselves and smiled at her when she made her way over to them. “Good day, girls,” she said, returning a smile while swiftly sitting down. “How was Canterlot?” Moondancer mock swooned. “Oh, Rarity, it was marvelous! There are more Pegasi and Earth ponies there than I’ve ever seen." She grabbed her bag with her magic and levitated a colorful dress out of it. “Look at this, I found this for a few bits at one of the market stalls, and that was just the first one! They had the most gorgeous dress designs and hats, and... and... oh I can’t wait to go back.” “What about you, Strawberry?” Rarity asked, scooting over to her side of the table. “Did you find anything?” Strawberry Swirl shrugged and looked out the window, making Moondancer giggle. “She found a coooolllttttfrieeeennnnddd,” she singsonged before giggling again. Just like that she had Rarity’s undivided attention. There wasn’t a lot that could make Rarity forget about her obligations, but juicy gossip regarding her friends' lovelives was one of the few contenders. “Ohhhh goodness! tell me everything, darling. Leave nothing out.” With a look towards Strawberry—who turned as red as her namesake, and avoided their combined gaze—Moondancer began recounting the tale of how they had met a pegasus skirmisher. “He was flitting around for most of the day, like, everywhere we went, he found some excuse to be there.” Moondancer giggled and pretended a gruff tone of voice. “Hey again. Just... waiting for my sergeant.” Her imitation wasn’t very good. “And then, right before we went to dinner, she fell down, or at least pretended to—” “I wasn’t pretending!” Strawberry Swirl replied hotly, the red of her blush reaching all the way to her ears. “Right, right,” Moondancer replied, although her real answer lay in her smile. “So, she almost falls down, and he dives for her, swooping her right off her hooves.” Rarity gasped. “He didn’t!” “He totally did. Saved her from being trampled by a bunch of fighting minotaurs, too.” The more Rarity heard about all the things that had happened in Canterlot, the more she yearned to go there herself. The girls had apparently had all manner of exciting adventures, and all she’d done is watch a few ponies bash each other about the head, and two of them nearly kill one another. Actually... come to think of it, she’d had her fair share of excitement as well, hadn’t she? It once again drew her thoughts back to Twilight, wondering if she would have won cleanly if it hadn’t been for the punishments Rarity had heaped on her. She almost missed the tail end of Moondancer’s tale in which, it seemed, the mysterious pegasus had kissed Strawberry right on the lips before dropping her off and flying away with an entire platoon of Pegasi. “She’s not listening.” “Nah, she’s just overwhelmed by my amazing storytelling. Right, Rarity?” Rarity looked up and came face to face with Moondancer who was leaning across the table and grinning at her. “Aren’t you jealous? Strawberry is so lucky!” Rarity chuckled to herself and gently shook her head. “I’m terribly jealous of you both, darlings. I wanted nothing more than to see Canterlot for myself, but alas, it was not to be.” Moondancer let herself fall back into her seat and took a sip from the drink she had. “Why did you have to stay at the castle anyway?” “My father is insisting I get a bodyguard,” Rarity said with a mild disgust. It was subtle, but between their little group of friends the small sneer was like a scream at how unfair it all was and how she was angry with her father over it. “—so I had to spend the day watching a bunch of brutish stallions beat each other senseless.” Strawberry perked up and looked around the room. “Did you pick a cutie?” she asked, scanning the guards stationed near the entrance to the restaurant. Her example was followed by Moondancer whom quickly gave up and asked: “Which one is it? Did you pick a hunk of a stallion that ‘guards’ you everywhere? ” She had never been one of Rarity’s more subtle friends, but the way she was wiggling her eyebrows made Rarity want to groan. “Honestly, girls. I am not about to let the first stallion that looks the slightest bit attractive mount me.” Rarity huffed haughtily. “Besides, the entire ‘choosing a bodyguard’ thing was cancelled.” “Huh?” The eyebrow wiggling stopped and was replaced by a look of concern. “How come? Was one of them sick? Was the castle attacked? Were you attacked?” “Well, there was this mare in with the rest, who was a bit... cheeky, actually. The captain made her runs laps as punishment, but that wasn’t the exciting part of course.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You see, when she finished her laps, they paired her up with this big brute of a stallion, and she...” “What did she do?” Moondancer asked, also leaning forward, closely followed by Strawberry until the three of them were only inches apart from one another. “They started going a little... wild, shall we say? He very nearly took one of her eyes out, and she in turn beat him quite thoroughly” Strawberry leaned back with a disappointed sigh. “That sounds normal for the guard. Why did it get cancelled?” Rarity smiled a predatory smile, enjoying telling her tale much more than she had anticipated. “Well...” She drawled, drawing the word out to rekindle Strawberry’s interest. “She... ‘won’ by slicing through the tendons in his leg. If I am to believe the captain, she may have crippled him for life.” Both girls gasped. While Strawberry clasped her hooves to her mouth, Moondancer leaned in even further. “Don’t stop there! Why did she do it? Did she say or do anything afterwards?” “I...” Just like that the enjoyment Rarity felt telling her friends the story drained away and was replaced by the familiar confusion she had been wrestling with for days. “I don’t know why she did it.” Moondancer humphed. “Maybe he was her ex colt-friend. I’m not saying I wouldn’t do that to that slime Blue Blood if I got the chance... ” “No, I don’t believe that was the case.” Rarity shook her head, remembering the fear in Twilight’s eyes. “She didn’t say a thing, surrendered without a fight, and I keep thinking about why she would do something like that if she knew she was going to be imprisoned for it.” “Maybe she didn’t know?” “Or maybe she wanted to get locked up.” Rarity frowned thoughtfully. Could it be that simple? “Seeing as she might be executed for treason because of it, I doubt that was her intention.” Strawberry Swirl shrugged before taking another sip from her drink. “Who knows, some ponies are weird like that.” When she finally let herself drop back into her seat, Moondancer looked as pensive as Rarity herself. “It’s a good thing you didn’t pick her then, isn’t it?” she eventually asked, turning around to look at the guards stationed near the entrance again. “I...” Rarity trailed off before she had even good and well begun her sentence. Moondancer’s question added another dimension to her thoughts about Twilight. Could I have chosen her? Would I even want a pony like that guarding me? “Yes...” She finally said when Moondancer poked her in the foreleg. “—it probably was.” Before they had a chance to talk about the more lighthearted subjects, Heavy Set began shouting at the other table which meant that Rarity’s break was officially over. She implored the girls to come by when they had the time, telling them she desperately wanted to know more about all they had seen in Canterlot and of course, gossip about Strawberry Swirls paramour. After that it was merely a matter of hurrying over to the other side of the restaurant before the stallions got it into their heads that swords would be more efficient than words. She arrived at the table post haste and smiled demurely at the two standing stallions. “Gentlecolts, I am terribly sorry for my brief disappearance, how is everything going?” From the corner of her eye she could see Heavy Set breathing heavily and though Mint Swirl appeared calm for the most part, his posture belied a pony that could explode into violence at any moment. The only pony that was still seated was Filthy Rich, who drank his wine before looking up at the dukes. “I was merely saying that relying on basic cavalry to carry our campaign to a successful end is a dated concept at best and that only dated ponies would put their trust in them.” “They are what got us this far.” Heavy Set said, visibly trying to restrain his volume now that Rarity was present. Rarity sat down before speaking. Though the baron may not have appeared to need it, this was the perfect time to repay him for the favor from earlier. “I think that what Baron Rich is trying to say, is that all of us look for ways to ensure victory with a minimal cost to life, correct?” Filthy Rich smiled apologetically and nodded. “Of course, that is what I was trying to say.” It seemed to mollify the Dukes, at least enough to sit down and resume their meal. The rest of the evening had Rarity feeling like a kindergarten teacher, tasked with making sure the children she watched over played nice; smoothing over arguments when their bickering inevitably grated on somepony’s hackles was just a part of that. And if that wasn’t bad enough already, her conversation with her friends had made it all but impossible to keep her thoughts from drifting to Twilight. Four hours later, the meeting was finally over. Rarity bid the stallions a farewell and told her friends not to be strangers, after which she could finally get into the carriage bound for the castle. Silver Platter was already waiting for her at the gates and she hugged him gratefully after he told her that her bed had been made ready for her. She had a hard time remembering most of the subjects that had come up at the restaurant, and was no surer of who would or would not support her father now than she had been in the morning. The only thing that stood out clearly was Moondancer’s swift dismissal of the ideas that had plagued her. Strawberry is right, obviously. A mare like that can’t be trusted to be a good bodyguard, can she? Exhausted and tired though she was, she couldn’t seem to get herself to stop thinking about it. What was it that even made her give a mere commoner a second thought? She resolved to stop thinking about her. It wasn’t getting her anywhere, and for all she knew the mare would be hanged soon enough. Which would mean I’d never have any sort of resolution, wouldn’t it? She scoffed at the idea as soon as it formed before examining it anyway. It was true that there was nothing to resolve. Rarity herself hadn’t been affected by their battle barring a few minor inconveniences. She had no reason at all to be interested in the fate of a lone soldier. And yet... She needed to get some information, even if she had to go down to the jail and talk to the mare to get it. Yes, that was a splendid idea. After breakfast then. After all, going right away might give the wrong impression. It wouldn’t do for a princess to seem consumed by the fate of a lowly guard, even if she was. And she couldn’t forget the appointment with Bladespinner. Although... fencing was not very high on her list of priorities so, perhaps the jail first? No, no, she had to carefully maintain her image. First she would go to her first fencing class, and after that, talking to that unimportant commoner so she could finally put all of this behind her. I refuse to let you haunt my thoughts for a moment longer, Private First Class Twilight Sparkle. A picture of a purple unicorn in full combat gear, doing battle with several enemies resolved itself in her mind’s eye. And then another, and another. Damnit... Morning in the castle was a cursed thing for Rarity. Her bed always seemed to change from ‘most comfortable place in all of Unicornia’ to a disguised bale of hay, and half as comfortable. She suspected it was conspiring against her along with the sun that always seemed to know just where to be in order for its light to pierce the small gap between her curtains and land right on her face. Despite the deal she had made with herself, sleep hadn’t found her. In cahoots with the sun no doubt. Damned fickle things. She had tossed and turned throughout most of the night, and even the few hours of sleep she had gotten were fitful and restless. With a long groan she turned away from the light and tried to capture sleep one more time. Only to be rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. “Princess?” Even though the sturdy door, Silver Platters deep baritone was unmistakable, as was his barely checked impatience. Which means it is past time to get up. With a sigh Rarity dragged herself out of bed and opened the door with her magic, allowing the stallion to enter. Silver bowed curtly and immediately ushered in a pair of maids that set about cleaning up the biggest mess in the room— her pile of clothing; while she slipped into the bathroom for a bath. Good hygiene was important for a Princess after all. By the time she stepped back into her room, squeaky clean but horrendously under styled, her room no longer looked like a hurricane had blown through. She walked over to the dresser and ran a comb through her hair while she looked at the stallion who busied himself with tidying up. “Good morning, Silver.” “Good morning, Princess. I hope your sleep was a restful one.” Rarity cringed inwardly. Whenever her attendant uttered those words, it either meant that some disaster was about to fill her schedule, or that her father wanted something from her. “It wasn’t, unfortunately. What's happened?” “Your father has requested your presence at the breakfast table post haste,” Silver replied, magicking over her purple cape. “He seems to be in a particularly sour mood today.” Her father’s apparent impatience put Rarity in a sour mood as well. As a princess she had to look her best, and was not being given the common courtesy of time to style her mane? Simply abhorrent. Making sure that she looked at least presentable was the number one priority, though it didn’t stop her from grumbling. “You’d think that after siring two fillies he would have learned that we mares need some time to get ready.” “I imagine it is because he is very strict with himself and thus with his daughters as well, Princess. It would probably be best if you didn’t make him wait.” Silver replied, getting her crown ready and smoothing out the cape. It put him closer to her than she would have allowed most ponies to get, but she was grateful for his help. “You are right, of course,” she said with a sigh. “I just wish he would at least find the patience for me to at least style my mane.” After dragging the comb through her hair one last time, she shot silver a questioning glance. “How do I look?” “Beautiful as ever, Princess. Possibly better than when you do style your mane if you’ll allow an old stallion’s indiscretion.” Rarity smiled while she reached for her make-up case with her magic. “You’re being paid to take care of me, Silver. Not kiss my flank.” A pair of maids stepped into the room, looking haggard as though they had sprinted the whole way. Silver silently directed them while keeping most of his focus on his conversation with Rarity. “I don’t believe that’s what I was doing, Princess. Though I may not be your sire, I believe I should be allowed some pride in the fine mare you’ve become.” Rarity smiled. “Certainly more than my father does, Silver. Thank you.” She lightly applied some lipstick, followed by some eye-shadow. Even when rushed, she wasn’t going to appear before her father without at least that much. The stallion shook his head. “You shouldn’t speak ill of your father. He does love you, but being a king and ruler hasn’t been easy on him.” With her make up done, Rarity was about ready to depart for the dining hall; styling her mane would have to wait. “I know. Though you’ll have to agree that it hasn’t exactly been easy on us either.” “Regardless, best not keep him waiting any longer.” Silver motioned her along with a hoof, though he was smiling in spite of his stern words. Rarity briefly smiled back before taking off at a canter. With her bedroom being the only room in one of the many towers of the castle, she had the breadth of the castle to traverse, and she was already late. The dining hall was large, imposing, and mostly empty. Paintings, stained glass windows and tapestries depicting major battlefields and victories were everywhere; a testament to her father’s interests. The center of the room was occupied by a beautifully carved mahogany table that served as the private table for the royal family and their closest confidantes. When Rarity entered the room, it seated only two ponies: King Diamond himself, and his closest aide and bodyguard: Bulwark, usually referred to as ‘the Bull’. Even from her spot near the door, Rarity could tell her father was stressed. His shoulders were bunched up and his greying hair was a tangled mess that somepony should really straighten out with a comb. Before approaching the table, she briefly stopped and told one of the maids to bring her a comb before sitting down opposite her father. She nodded to Bulwark, even though she knew the dark brown stallion wouldn’t respond. Since her earliest memories he had always been an impassive but imposing presence; always in the background, and only ever moving if it was to protect her father or eat. She couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak. Despite never uttering a word, Rarity could not deny that Bulwark’s loyalty to her father was strong and unyielding as the walls that protected their castle. “You’re late, Daughter,” Her father said, before taking a sip from a mug filled with of what she presumed to be wine. She had to suppress a snide remark. It would be all too easy to blame him for her sleepless nights but she knew it wasn’t, not really. “Good morning to you too, Father. I hope you’ve slept well.” King Diamond sighed and rubbed his temples. “Daughter, I don’t have time for pleasantries, but if you must know, I slept rather poorly.” “That makes two of us,” Rarity replied gruffly, sitting down opposite her father. “I’ll get right to the reason you dragged me out of bed for, then: Both Mint Swirl and Heavy Set are complete and utter pigs, but neither of them have the spine to go against you, unless they were pressured. Filthy Rich seems to agree with your views on everything, but there’s something about him that makes me uneasy.” “Very good, Rarity,” her father said with an appreciative nod. “But that isn’t why I called you here. We need to talk about something much more urgent.” Just then the maid returned with a brush which Rarity took in her magic before walking around to the other side of the table. “Very well,” she said while dragging the brush through his mane. “I assume you’ll tell me at some point.” Her father sighed again and let her take care of his mane. “Forgive your father his impatience, Rarity. It’s been a long night.” He took a large draught of wine from his goblet, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Ruling is stressful, my daughter. Very stressful. More than I really want to burden you with. Which is why I try to keep you sheltered from the worst of it.” He laid his mug down on the table, flashing her an annoyed look. “So will you please explain to me why you are flouting that by not choosing who shelters you from the physical dangers? Do I have to pick your protector as well?” “Father...” Rarity set down the comb and returned his look. “Does this really have to be the topic of our conversation this early in the morning? I haven’t yet had a chance to eat.” There was a long moment during which the two held each other's gaze, neither wanting to look away for fear of appearing weak. Her father was the first to blink, and he smiled at her for not being cowed. “Very well. Forgive your father for being worried about his heir.” Rarity let out a very unladylike snort. “Apparently not so concerned as to keep me from having to deal with those lecherous dukes that call themselves your allies.” She took a seat next to his, and let the cooks deal with her change in position. “Yours as well, daughter. Never forget that there will come a time for you to ascend to my throne, and when you do the friends and enemies you have made will remember you.” He took another sip of wine, nodding to the steward who refilled his goblet. “But enough of politics. Tell me, how fares your pegasus friend?” “She is well. Apparently her parents are making her take self defense classes, though it seems she still can’t stomach the sight of blood. I haven’t had the chance to catch up with her in the past few days due to my own obligations, but it seems she has found herself after opening some sort of nursing home for wounded soldiers.” “Well, it is good of her to care for the weak.” The unspoken sentiment was quite clear. Her father considered her friend to be weak, and rather useless. Pegasi were supposed to be a proud warrior race, and Fluttershy was decidedly neither. Taking a few deep breaths and willing herself to be calm, Rarity settled for a polite smile. “It certainly is, she is a kind soul in a sea of warmongers.” She let her own hidden barb settle for a moment before switching topics and asking, “Have you heard from Sweetie Belle?” Her father grunted, though he seemed proud of his younger daughter. Moreso than Rarity had ever seen him when he talked about her at least. “She’s still taking to her training like a duck to water. Her instructor told me that she’ll make for a fine commander once she finishes her education. Among the finest he’s ever trained, even.” That’s how it always was with her father, Rarity reflected, accomplishments were the only thing that really seemed to matter to him. “And have you spoken to Sweetie Belle about her friends? Or her emotional state?” She asked, sighing heavily. “Oh that’s right, last I remember she never wanted to talk to you again for forcing her to go to that horrid place.” The king slammed a hoof on the table making the cutlery rattle. “Mind your tongue, young lady,” he growled, looking at Rarity heatedly. “It was a good change for you, and it will be good for her.” Rarity matched her father’s gaze with the same intensity and anger. “I certainly came back changed, father, though I’d hesitate to call it a change for the better. One loses something important when they begin looking at battlefield tactics as ‘necessary sacrifices’ when other methods are available. And it isn’t something you can ever really get back.” He seemed slightly surprised at her response, and gave her a grudgingly respectful smile, which frankly irritated her. Him respecting her only meant she’d gone further down the path he wished her to tread, and damn him for it. “Very true, my daughter, and yet those are the kinds of sacrifices that are often needed to keep the country from falling apart. Never forget that.” “I don’t ag—” “Regardless,” her father continued, cutting Rarity off before she could good and well get a sentence going. “That wasn’t why I asked you here.” Rarity pouted at him. She felt like she was being played for a fool, and it didn’t sit right with her. Her father was still the king however, and throwing a tantrum like she had done when she was younger would only serve to incense him. Rarity thought herself a mare above such behavior, and so she simply began anew. “Please do enlighten me, father. Why did you summon me, if not to talk about getting me my personal stalker?” Her question was met with a chuckle, followed by a more genuine smile. “I suppose I tipped my hoof a little early with that one.” He waved a hoof disinterestedly. “Fair enough, fair enough. Let’s start with something more congratulatory.” Rarity waited for him to continue, sifting through what she remembered of the past week that would actually merrit her father praising her outright. Nothing came to mind. “I don’t know how you manage to do it every time,” Her father continued, smiling. “But dukes Heavy Set and Mint Swirl have both come around to pledging their staunch support, and Baron Rich told me about an idea to pave over all major roads thanks to your insights.” That was a surprise. Their meeting had only been the previous day, and she hadn’t expected her father to have received word from any of them, much less pledges of support. Never the less, she allowed herself a smile and a nod. “Thank you, father. I am doing the best I can for the good of the country.” Diamond laughed, surprising only due to its rare nature. “Heavy Set even offered to send some of his best cooks to the castle. According to him, you didn’t touch your food throughout the entire evening. Was it because you were busy working your charms on him, or simply because he got to everything before anypony else could?” “I... had a lot on my mind,” Rarity replied, smiling back at her father. “Though I’m not sure how I should feel about his offer.” “Hmph.” Her father waved a hoof dismissively. “Take it for the compliment that it is. It merely means you haven’t yet succumbed to his ‘charms’.” Her father’s last words dripped with a mixture of sarcasm and amusement which was another rare thing for him. As a king he was usually much more serious, though she had heard rumors that he used to be an all round pleasant pony before taking up the burden of the crown. “I’m glad you approve, father,” she said, leaving him to his enjoyment while she dealt with more pressing things. For one, she was actually hungry, a problem that to her relief was remedied as quickly as it had sprung up. One of the side doors into the dining hall had opened and allowed several servants into the room, all carrying domed trays which they quickly filled the table with before levitating off the domes as one before departing again. Rarity wouldn’t have been relieved had she known what was being served for the meal. In fact she might have simply ignored her father’s summons altogether. There were several nice, comfortable dishes like croutons, asparagus, and even a few tastefully arranged pieces of broccoli; but none of it could distract from the truly foul dish that sat in the center of it all. Meat. For a brief, horrifying moment, she took it for a pegasus, but a closer look revealed it to be a griffon. The carcass had been plucked, roasted, and served on a bed of assorted vegetables in the most shocking and tasteless arrangement she had ever seen on a dining table. “A gift from our neighbors to the north.” Her father said simply. “He was an assassin. And he might have succeeded if not for Bulwark.” At her father’s sideways nod Rarity glanced over at the dark brown stallion again. Bulwark had taken one piece of the meat and was devouring it with a gusto that made Rarity queasy. It made her all the more aware of the spiked tower shield that rested against the table next to the bodyguard, and she imagined she could see the blood on the spikes. “Excuse me,” she said, shakily getting up from her chair and backing away slowly. “I think I’m going to be sick.” “Sit down, Rarity.” Even though Diamond sounded calm, she could read the intensity in his eyes and could only guess at the repercussions if she didn’t comply. Slowly she sat back down onto her chair, keeping her eyes away from the sickening noises Bulwark made as he emptied most of the plate. Then, to her horror, the king himself took one of the last strips of meat and ate it. “This is something we do to remind ourselves that not every species is like our own.” Rarity turned away from the table and dry-heaved before scowling at her father. “By stooping to such barbarous levels yourselves?” “By trying to understand one of the basic things that drives them, yes.” Diamond said, offering the last strip of the meat to his bodyguard. “Had he bested Bulwark and myself he would likely have done the same thing right then and there.” “I still don’t see why I have to be a spectator to this... this... euwh!” "I heard you inquired about a fencing lesson. How good is your swordplay?” Her father asked, completely ignoring her once again. “My swordplay?” Rarity blinked as she tried to make sense of the sudden gearshift. “What does that have to do with any of this?” Her father rang a small bell and immediately an attendant came running into the room with a pair of swords situated on a pillow. Diamond slowly, almost reverently picked up one of the blades before tossing it towards Rarity, letting it clatter on the still empty plate in front of her. “Pick it up.” All Rarity could do was gawk at him though her mind was running a mile a minute. What in the sister’s names does he think he’s doing?! it quailed, though she refused to show weakness in front of him. Any hesitation on her part would only make him that much more convinced that she should do as he said, while losing to him in a swordfight would only reinforce the same idea in his mind. Silent defiance then, was the only recourse she had left, looking at him as though he had gone mad while mentally clutching all the composure she could muster and using it as a shield against his fiery gaze. It didn’t last. “I said, PICK IT UP!” Diamond roared, bringing the second sword level with her nose. Rarity’s composure cracked before shattering into a thousand tiny little pieces. She began shaking like a leaf, trying and failing to obey her father’s command. Her mind was reeling both from the sudden hostility her father displayed as well as the idea that he actually wanted to fight her; not at all helped by the memory of Private Sparkle hacking through two of a stallion’s limbs. he may never walk again... The sentence echoed through her mind and for a brief moment she was convinced that her own father intended the same fate for her, or worse. It made it difficult to focus on anything and as such difficult to keep her magic consistent enough to actually lift the sword, let alone be able to fight with it. When her father growled after her fourth failed attempt to lift the sword, she panicked in earnest, upending her chair in her scramble to get away from him and the sword he was still pointing at her. Her backpedalling quickly turned into a dash for the door, which ended in a stumble when Bulwark blocked the exit with his massive frame. Not like this. Not here, not by him! The panicky voice in her mind kept screaming while she looked at the massive brown colossus of a stallion before spinning back around and facing her father. Diamond nigh on strolled towards her, lazily holding both swords in his magic and looking rather too calm for the situation he had put her in. He tossed the first sword at her feet and thrust his chin towards it. “Pick. It. Up.” Despite her shaking, Rarity managed to keep a hold of the sword when she picked it up again, though she couldn’t for the life of her remember how to hold it properly. All of the instructions on basic swordplay she had received during her training at the academy seemed to have abandoned her. Finally, she simply leveled it in front of herself, determined to lash out at any attack he threw at her. Her resistance was short lived. With a single swing Diamond knocked the sword out of her magical grasp, making her stumble and land on her rump before once again making her stare down the length of his blade. She didn’t shy away this time, she didn’t even blink. If she was to die at her father’s blade she was going to go out with at least some measure of grace and dignity. Though that didn't stop her from being afraid. After a few tense moments, Diamond lowered his sword and sighed. “Do you see this, daughter?” He asked indicating her sword. “This is pathetic. If you had been the target, that assassin would have succeeded and you would be the meat served at the high emperor's table. You would never even have been able to defend yourself.” He picked up both swords and floated them back to the attendant before offering her a hoof to get up. Rarity briefly deliberated slapping it away, but took it after a moment of hesitation and stood up. All the fear and terror that had made themselves comfortable in her heart had been flushed away leaving only an empty void that was swiftly being filled by anger until she was trembling again, but for a very different reason. “Now that we've established that you are of no use in a fight, I'm going to tell you the following, and I'm only going to say it once,” her father continued, as if the entire ordeal had been nothing more than a diplomatic aside. He sauntered back to the table and motioned for Rarity to take her seat as well. Only once the chairs had been put back in their proper places and all three of them were seated again, did he speak. “You are going to pick a bodyguard before the end of the week, or I will pick for you.” To say Rarity was angry would be an understatement. She was livid, and though she did not outwardly show it, every single portion of her mind that wasn't wishing to feed her father his own sense of smug superiority was thinking of ways to spite him. One way or another she was going to make him regret putting her through that humiliating and terrifying charade. Her anger was replaced with a sense of satisfaction when the solution presented itself to her clear as day. She could satisfy her curiosity, and agitate her father in a single stroke, without having to so much as lift a hoof. Rather brilliant if I do say so myself. “Alright,” she said, aiming a demure smile at him. “I accept that I should perhaps be a little more concerned about my own coat and that having a bodyguard might not be the worst thing in the world.” At the very least for next time you decide to do something like that you miserable old coot. Diamond smiled back while filling up his plate with somewhat more normal fare. “I’m glad to hear it. Trust me, Rarity, it really is for your own good.” “I understand, father. If I do choose somepony however, I want your promise that you will support my choice. Going through the trouble of finding a suitable bodyguard only for you to disagree with my decision, would defeat the entire point of letting me choose in the first place.” Her father waved his hoof dismissively. “Fine. Fine. As long as you don’t pick some smarmy young colt who has never held a sword in his life, you’ll have my blessing.” Now that his demonstration was over and he had seen to her change of mind, the subject seemed to bore him and his focus drifted back to his food. Rarity nodded her acquiescence and got up from her chair. “Of course, father. By your leave, I would like to start my search right away.” Alright so it isn’t much of a search, but I would like to get out of here sooner rather than later. “Don’t you want to have something to eat first?” Her father motioned towards her still empty plate. “You have my word that we won’t be eating any other ‘barbarous’ food.” His smile was infuriating, but Rarity bore it. Angering him now was pointless, and would only make her life that much more difficult. Smiling sweetly, she bowed towards her fath— her king. “I do apologise, but truth be told, after everything that’s happened in the last half hour, I’ve all but lost my appetite.” Diamond grunted before spearing a stalk of broccoli to his fork. “I understand. Very well, best of luck.” “Thank you, father.” And with that she got up and strolled towards the exit, her mind abuzz with schemes and anticipation. She had almost reached the door when two giants of stallions stepped forward and saluted her. Her father called out to her before she could even begin to figure out what their intentions were. "Ah, yes, one more thing! I thought you should get used to somepony following you around, so I assigned you two of my best guards. They'll be with you until the moment you pick somepony." Rarity couldn't prevent the groan that escaped her. She turned around and, though she feared she knew the answer, asked, "And if I don't choose anypony?" King Diamond shrugged. "Then consider the two of them my choice." For a long moment, Rarity weighed the pros and cons of throwing a tantrum right then and there. It wasn’t very mature, and would definitely anger her father. On the other hoof, he had never denied her anything she wanted badly enough to get angry over, and might even reconsider siccing the two ruffians on her as guards. In the end, she came to the conclusion that it would lose her more than she would gain, so she sighed and walked out the door. She made no illusions that either of the stallions would really listen to anything she had to say, and resolved to find the captain to resume the bodyguard selection process. The sooner she was rid of the two brutes her father had no doubt saddled her with, the better. If there was one thing that her father had been right about, it was that Rarity had expressed an interest in fencing. Now, more than ever, did she feel a desire to be able to protect herself, and the fencing instructor her father kept on retainer would hopefully help her with that. Who knew, if things went well, perhaps she would even be able to persuade her father that she could learn to defend herself. The old stallion was purported to have taught the king everything he knew about sword-fighting, and if she were to believe the rumors, was still the best sword fighter in the kingdom. After what she had seen Private Sparkle do, she couldn't help but find it exciting. In her mind, she was already an accomplished swordsman, defending herself from droves of assassins and unwanted suitors alike. When she arrived at the training room that the stallion had claimed as his, however, she found that the reality was a lot less glamorous... and more shouty. "That was his own fault! He shouldn’t have lowered his guard! Now get out! I don't want to see any of you here again until you've learned how learned to parry properly!" She was almost flattened by a group of ponies vacating the room at high speeds, while the offenders were immediately pushed into opposite walls for coming too close to their princess in the eyes of the brutes her father considered bodyguards. Rather than address either party, she decided to let them sort themselves out, and stepped into the room. While her own room in the castle occupied an entire spire by itself, the room she stepped into was at least thrice as large, if not more. It was spacious and brightly lit with windows covering most of the available space on two walls. Besides that, however, the decorations and furniture were sparse. Two tables up against the walls with some small shrubbery on top of them, a single chair against the back wall, and a floor that consisted entirely of wooden planks rather than the hewn-stone plates that made up most of the castle’s floors. It gave the room a warm and pleasant feeling, which Rarity couldn’t say for the stallion that occupied it. The old unicorn stalked back and forth through the room, sucking away the gentle happiness wherever he went, while he grumbled to himself. Rarity coughed politely. “Excuse me, Sir?” The stallion came to a halt and looked at her with a hostility that was as surprising as it was unnerving. “What do you want, filly?” Filly? Rarity snorted and stuck her nose in the air. “I’m an adult mare thank you very much, and I’ve come here for a fencing lesson.” The room was silent for a while, though the stallion’s mood seemed to clear up immensely. When she finally saw him smile, he seemed like a different stallion altogether, younger, more vibrant; more in line with the pony she expected lived in a room such as this. “You must be the princess,” he said with a small nod towards her. “I was wondering what kept you.” Rarity showed him a somewhat embarrassed smile. “Terribly sorry about that, you of all ponies must know how my father can be when he gets something into his head.” The stallion nodded. “Stubborn as a mule, and one hell of a swordfighter.” He walked over to a stand that Rarity hadn’t noticed before and looked between it and Rarity before taking out a pair of short swords. Though smaller and less ornate than the ones her father had used, Rarity got the distinct impression that she wasn’t going to like what happened after she picked it up. “Well then,” the stallion said, tossing one of the swords towards her. “Let’s see if you’ve got any of your father’s talent, shall we, princess?” “Sir... before we begin, how should I address you?” “My name is Bladespinner, but as long as we are in this room, you will address me as ‘teacher’. Understood?” Rarity nodded. “Yes, sir.” Bladespinner arched an eyebrow, making Rarity want to roll her eyes. “I mean... yes, teacher.” He lunged the moment she finished her sentence, and the only reason for Rarity’s continued existence after he landed was the fact that his sword stopped short a mere inch from her chest. Rarity’s gasp and surprise came a microsecond later, and the stallion narrowed his eyes. “Don’t stand around like a startled fawn. You’re supposed to block my attacks, now move!” And move she did. Or rather, she had to. For what felt like an eternity Bladespinner drove her onward around the room, striking or stabbing with every move he made. She backpedaled, backpedaled some more, and on several occasions freaked out and jumped out of the way when her rump made contact with a wall. She was out of breath before long, but the stallion didn’t seem to care, and drove her onward relentlessly, not giving her even a second to rest. And that wasn’t all. Not only did he leave her with nowhere to turn, but his running commentary on her progress was humiliating to say the least. “Dead. Dead. Major artery cut, you’re bleeding to death,” the stallion kept saying while almost lazily slashing and stabbing at her. It almost felt like he was just taking a leisurely stroll through a park where it not for the sharp implement in his magic trying to wound her time and time again. And it continued in the same vein. “Dead. Crippled for life, and still dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD!” “Shut up!” she yelled finally, which put an end to his attacks. Rarity sank to the floor, gasping for breath and dropping the sword that had been a hindrance more than a help for most of the chase. A small idle part in the back of her mind wondered how ponies like Twilight Sparkle were as deft with their swordwork as they were; she couldn’t even seem to block a single attack with the damn thing. The rest of her couldn’t believe that she’d ever wanted to learn how to fence, and at that moment, couldn’t believe that she’d had the strength to get out of bed that morning. “Completely useless, I’m telegraphing my intent clearly, and you still can’t follow. Are you even paying attention?” Bladespinner growled in disgust and put away his sword, hanging it back onto the standard before turning to her and glaring. “You’re not a mare. You’re not even a filly. A pile of manure is more capable than you in a fight, if only because you can use manure to blind your enemies.” Anger boiled in Rarity’s chest, but she hadn’t the breath to actually respond. Once she did though, she would let him know just what she thought of him and his training. He was going to get what was coming to him, she would make sure of it. “You can’t parry, you can’t dodge... you can’t even run away properly! And not a single attempt at a counter attack!” Bladespinner leaned in close and peered at Rarity’s face. “Are you sure your father sired you?” Had Rarity held her blade at that moment, she would have separated Bladespinner’s top half from his bottom half. Possibly to then hack it into little bits for good measure. With a supreme effort of will, she grabbed the blade lying next to her in her magic and screamed at him while swinging it low. “Who the hell do you think you are?! I am the princess, and you will treat me as such!” Bladespinner contemptuously swatted the blade out of her shaky magical grasp. “That is just one of the reasons you fail. Your father, at least, was smart enough to realise that you cannot command an enemy not to attack. Royal blood flows just as quickly on the end of a blade.” He retrieved the sword from the far end of the room, and put it back next to its sister sword. “You’re wasting your precious time here, Your Highness.” Rarity trembled with rage, but quelled it and kept it hidden while she walked out of the room, not sparing another moment of acknowledgement to the stallion. Just you wait until father hears about this, she thought darkly. Her father, as it turned out, thought very little of it. “If he feels like you’re not ready, then you’re not ready,” had been his response, and while Rarity had avoided screaming at him, she had made it all the way back to her room before the haze of anger lifted enough that she remembered about her self-made promise to check in on Twilight Sparkle. It can wait. She told herself. I’ve just had a rough time, and it’s not like she’ll know I was planning on coming anyway. She lay down on her bed, and found to her consternation, that she couldn’t help but wonder if Private First Class Twilight Sparkle could beat Bladespinner in a fight. And then she found herself wondering how many enemies the big purple unicorn could take on at once. And then... Then she buried her head in her pillow and screamed.