//------------------------------// // Midlight // Story: Five minute Fables Fabricated Freely // by Valorousspectre //------------------------------// Princess Luna’s House guard. A relatively new branch of the guard, and filled mostly with the few Thestral ponies to come out of hiding. There were only two regiments at the moment, both of nine ponies. Eight grunts and a sergeant, who spends most of their time in their office, making sure ‘everything runs smoothly’. In Velveteen’s case, she thought it was too cushy for her. Velveteen liked her job, she liked standing guard. it made her feel important, and needed. That said, she also knew that in the many, many years of service, very few times had the House Guard actually protected their charge, rather than the other way around. She didn’t let that deter her though. This was a dream come true. And at Guard level 2, she felt pretty good about herself. She did try to make sure to mess up now and then, to keep her current ranking so she didn’t go up any further though. Any higher than Level 1 and she was elegible to become Sergeant, and she didn’t want that. It was cold, that night. Not that it wasn’t expected. It was mid winter, coming up on the Winter Solstice, when the night was longest. She stood at attention outside her charge’s door, always remembering the golden rules of the House Guard. No motion. No emotion. Not a sound. Standing stock still for twelve or so hours was difficult, but it came with damn good pay. Technically, they were putting their lives on the line for their Princess, and there was no higher honor in Velveteen’s books, and it seemed that the Princess’ believed such faith and loyalty was to be rewarded with decent pay too. It was useful. What she hadn’t yet gotten used to was the shared accommodation with her Thestral siblings. Luna had made it clear that she wanted her Thestral charges treated with respect, and had laid down a decree that all within the Guard were honorary siblings. This was already an unspoken law in Celestia’s House Guard, and Velveteen had thought it’d be easy enough in this one. Oh boy was she wrong. Thestrals didn’t consume the same as their distant cousins, surviving off of the high protein diet involved in consuming the blood of living beings. One of them had explained the reasoning to her with great delight. He told her they were cursed, and that their physiology had adapted to help them survive. Their inner magic, other than allowing them to perform strange rites of empowerment by the light of the moon (She saw these as silly superstitions) provided them with most of what they needed, but their curse forced them to adapt to a life of a vampiric sway, to take in the haemoglobin everything required to live. It was a frightening concept, and she’d asked him if they fed on ponies. He must have seen the fear on her face, for he laughed and had draped a gentle wing over her shoulders, telling her that it didn’t happen without consent. He’d then made her blush brightly by telling her he wouldn’t mind showing her if she’d wanted. Needless to say, she hadn’t spoken to him since. These eating habits had unnerved all of the pony volunteers, few though there were, and most of them were officers. She had tried to let it not get to her, but it had unnerved her nonetheless. Now she had to keep herself in control along with her ‘partner’. All guards were assigned a partner, and hers was a charming Thestral, who seemed as nervous about her at first as she was about him. He’d assured her he’d not bite her, in the night or otherwise. She’d thanked him, and he’d smiled a little. Guard partners slept in the same room in the barracks. Separate beds of course. It promoted camaraderie and teamwork. Supposedly. It didn’t work all the time but, mostly it did. It did in Celestia’s house guard anyway. After a brief look, she sighed, and rolled her shoulders. Under her heavy, padded armour and cloth undershirt, Velveteen was proud of her body. She was, like the other guards, very well built. Slim and hard, Velveteen did not live up to her name. Not in softness of skin at least. Not really. Her muscles were hard, toned with years of training, covered in a velvety coat of navy blue. She was also rather proud of her deep purple mane and matching tail. They had a streak of ash through them both. What didn’t impress her was her need to bind her chest. The House guard’s armour wasn’t made for those of a more busty constitution. Her guard partner knew this. In fact, he’d helped her bind it before. She didn’t do it tightly, and the pair had been awkwardly silent the whole time, but he’d told her he’d appreciated the trust that move took. She’d giggled nervously, and told him it was more a matter of necessity, and he’d chuckled awkwardly as well. That was in the first week. It’d been a few months now, and whilst there was a lot of issues between the Thestrals and Ponies, with Ponies usually backing down from the larger force of Thestrals. Her and her partner, on the other hand… “Velveteen.” She straightened up instinctively, her arms behind her back, hooves shoulder width apart. She felt her wings straightening at her back. The familiar, smooth voice chuckled and she felt a tap on her shoulder plates. “Chill out, it’s me.” Velveteen almost smiled. But no, she was still on duty. “You’re early sir,” She said stiffly. “I am,” He replied coolly, “I had nothing to do, and thought it’d be a good idea to swing by.” The rustle of his wings against his armour was different to hers. Her feathers were light, where the leather of his wings had a velvety coat of tiny furs on it, but was still leathery, and thus rubbed harder. He was her Thestral partner, and she was used to this sort of behaviour. “If you’re going to stand here and chat,” She whispered under her breath, “Stand at attention. Stop making me look bad.” “I thought that’s what you did?” He asked, looking a little hurt, “Made sure you didn’t get a promotion? I mean, you’re due for a citation this month, aren’t you? Like clockwork.” He was right, She was due a citation to keep her rank… But no, this was too much. “Minor citation,” She whispered back, “This goes a bit beyond that. Besides, I thought you were going for Sergeant?” He paused, assumed stance and ignored her question. For some reason, this annoyed her a little. “You have half an hour before I relieve you completely,” He whispered, “Why not treat it like a debriefing?” She felt her eye twitch, and she sighed, letting her shoulders and wings slump. it did feel good to let her muscles relax… “Fine,” She muttered, turned to face him at ease now, “All’s quiet. No disturbances. Even the maids don’t come through this wing of the castle if they can help it, why would anypony else?” “Why indeed,” he asked rhetorically, “I don’t know. I suppose they’re still afraid.” “More likely your kind scare them away,” She responded without thinking. Her eyes widened and she went to correct her mistake, but he held up a hand. She continued anyway, “Hunter, I didn’t mean-” “I know,” He interrupted, “But you’re right.” Hunter’s Moon, or Hunter for short, was strong and charming. Once the pair of them had overcome the biggest hurdle, of Velveteen’s fear of Thestral’s fangs and wings. and their eyes, the pair had fast made friends. Well, comrades. Velveteen wouldn’t call them ‘friends’. Hunter liked to hang out at the local Guard bar, the Wind Shear. They didn’t yet serve Typical Thestral beverages or foods, but they weren’t against them. The owner was a vet, and when he couldn’t serve anymore, he opened the bar. It started welcoming the guard, and now it was almost exclusive. Velveteen, on the other hand, prefers to train in her spare time. The gym in the lower levels of the barracks area of this wing of the castle was useful for that reason. She saw his time in the bar as time wasting. That isn’t to say she didn’t have friends, she just worked as hard as she could to be as prepared as she could for any contingency. She had to admit though, he had a sort of exotic beauty to him. He had a strong jawline, and his fangs flashed a little whenever he smiled. His eyes were yellow, and glowed a little in the moonlight. It was his night vision that did that. His coat was similar to hers, but darker, and his mane, matching his tail, was sky blue. It spiked down his face when he wasn’t in uniform. Another contrast to hers, which waterfalled down her shoulders and back in beautiful waves of darkness. Add to that the exoticism of his wings, and it added a very attractive picture. “I’m still sorry sir…” “Forget it. It’s fine. You and me, we’ve got a good thing going between us. Don’t worry, I know you don’t mean to be thoughtless. We all do it. Doesn’t mean we lose any vigilance.” “No sir.” “You know you don’t have to call me sir, right?” “Actually, I do sir,” She replied, “You’re a House Guard First class, I’m second class, You are a higher rank than me.” Hunter didn’t reply, stiff mouthed. “It’s the rules… sir,” She said softly. He nodded. “I know. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t. But what am I saying, your debrief is over.” Hunter squared up, matching her stance. “You’re relieved soldier,” He intoned. Velveteen nodded. “Yes, sir,” She saluted smartly, which he then reciprocated, turned, and walked away, still retaining the guards rigid discipline. She’d seen some guards walk away like it didn’t matter, but it did. Only once she’d exited his sight, did she sigh and remove her helmet, shaking her long hair free. An unspoken rule among the guardsponies, when the helmet came off, so did the job. She tucked it under her arm, and walked normally. A sway came to her hips that was characteristic with most mares. It wasn’t noticeable really unless you were looking for it, but it was there. It was a cold night indeed. A breeze through an open window made her shiver a little, even through the padding of her armour. She wanted her warm bed. The palace halls, once so creepy in the darkness, were easy to navigate now. She knew them by heart. And the way to her quarters was second nature. The wooden door slammed home behind her and she sighed again. It was hard, trying not to make such a fool of herself. Such an amateur mistake, that faux pas. “Luna damn me,” She mumbled softly, “For being such a right fool.”