• Published 11th Mar 2015
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Royally Ruffled Feathers - Eyeswirl the Weirded



Gilda gets a job at the palace, Prince Blueblood hatches a plan. Hilarity ensues.

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Chapter 3: Feathered Friends

It must have been months since the last time Gilda had to sleep off a food coma, but more surprising was the fact that she'd been allowed to do it. It was halfway to noon by the time she woke up, and with no sign of somepony shouting at her about oversleeping. Were they just scared I'd scratch their faces off if they tried? That did kinda almost happen one time, but she actually apologized to the guy she swiped at, honestly not having meant to hurt him. Luckily, he was surprisingly cool with the idea of a snazzy new scar.

Weird memories of weird ponies aside, she got up, patted her feathers down, and went looking for her boss. He must have had something for her to do by now.

---

"I've got nothing for you to do right now."

"Seriously?"

He shrugged a bit, not looking up from the papers on his desk. "I do apologize, but I'm afraid your first day on the job won't be terribly interesting. I'm not due to go anywhere until later this evening."

Nothing else to say immediately springing to mind, Gilda bit the hook. "Where's that?"

Still not looking up from apparently the Most Amazing Papers In The World, Blueblood smiled a little. There was a hint of that I'm-totally-up-to-something smile he had yesterday. "Does the name 'Honest Heart' mean anything to you?"

"Not a thing."

"Me neither. In fact, I'm not sure that's even the fellow's name, but he's the pony thought to organize the most charities in this city, so he has a lot of 'friends'."

Gilda didn't miss the mocking tone in that last word.

"As such, when his daughter, couldn't even guess the name, has a birthday party organized by the man himself, you can bet 'everypony who's anypony' will be tripping over themselves to show up with the most expensive thing they could have wrapped and throw it in her face. Not literally, mind you."

Shame, might've been fun to watch. "Right. So what's this got to do with you?"

"The mare in question usually takes after her father, if only out of a sort of twisted expectation that she do so. Genuine benevolence or not, it's always good to stop by to encourage that kind of thing. Who knows? We may even have fun for bit while we're there."

"We?"

Now he looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "You're my bodyguard, remember? Starting yesterday?"

Gilda tinted red. "Oh. Right."

Mercifully, his attention returned to the forms as he marked one with a stamp. "The event is due to begin around 7:00pm tonight, but you're free to do whatever you like until then. Do you have anything to wear?"

"Didn't exactly bring a bag." Truth be told, she didn't own anything she thought was worth lugging around, just made flying harder. Stuff like jewelry and sentimental trinkets was for saps, anyway.

"I see. I'm sure one of the outfitters around town would have something in your size."

"Pass."

"Suit yourself. Or, don't, as the case may be. I intend to depart around 6:45pm, so feel free to explore a bit until then."

---

As much as it felt like she was already pressing her luck, Gilda had learned when to just take a break. Granted, she was getting those pretty often in the last day or so, but when your kinda creepy totally-up-to-something boss doesn't specifically tell you to do anything, you've got all the reason in the world to not do anything. On the other talon, she was getting bored and exploring the castle sounded kinda cool, so that's what she did for the day.

She walked all over the place, the guys in shiny, gold armor barely looking at her twice as she went around just looking at stuff. She still didn't want a tour and still didn't care about the stuff they had lying around waiting to get knocked over, (which wasn't actually all that much, she only saw like three vases) but it was probably too soon to go around opening random doors. When that particular temptation got to be too much, she opened a random window and flew outside, perching on one of the high walls.

If Gilda were a dweeb, she might have peered out over the horizon, a talon just over her eyes as she scouted the territory, alert for any sign of trouble. It would also be very dweebish to go marching along those high walkways, not a sound but the wind and not another living thing in sight as she patrolled, imagining how she might have to light some huge signal fire in the event that something showed up to cause trouble, and the whole city, roused by the ignition, would similarly burn with the fury and passion of battle as they united to fight off the threat, everyone going nuts in a city-wide bar-fight.

That would be a dweeby thing to do, which was why Gilda did no such thing, and would smack anyone that said otherwise.

Shut up.

The higher spots on the castle roof also proved to be pretty good for sun-basking, so she did that for a while too. Lacking a watch, she looked down at the city to find one of those huge wall-clock things some of the snazzier buildings had. There was about an hour left until it was time to get going, so she flew down to wait near Blueblood. It only took her fifteen minutes to find an open door, so she didn't have to wait as long as she'd first thought.

---

She didn't want to ask, but it felt necessary. "Are we there yet? I know that's a dumb question, but we passed the guys saying 'thanks for coming, great to have you here' going through those big doors four minutes ago, and we're still outside."

Blueblood chuckled. "Yes, the palace isn't the only building in Canterlot with it's own estimated travel times. If you've ever wondered how ponies around here stay in shape, this is half of it."

She nodded a little. "I met your aunt yesterday. Does she always say hi the way other cultures do?"

He glanced at her with an eyebrow raised, as if appraising the statement. "Celestia, you mean? I have two aunts now, so I have to ask." When she gave an affirmative nod, he went on. "That sounds like something she would do, yes. Possibly because it's something you'd not expect from arguably the most powerful being in the world, for more than sheer magical might."

Gilda tilted her head as they walked. "Whaddya mean?"

"Well, looking at how some others in lofty positions behave, it's reasonable to wonder why she of all ponies would deign to match the customs and mannerisms of, hypothetically, other, lesser beings than herself. Perhaps it's to ingratiate herself to them, perhaps it's just out of politeness."

She shrugged a little. "Seemed like a pretty nice lady." When she wasn't immeasurably pissed off, at least, even if for just a few seconds.

"Indeed. Luna is perhaps a little abrasive, but she's a good pony too."

"And the other two princesses?"

"Honestly? I don't know. They seem to do their own thing pretty well, for whatever that's worth."

Eventually, they got to a well-lit area with a long balcony overlooking a cliff, the sun beginning to fade in the distance, a lot of ponies in snazzy duds standing around having I-bet-I-can-hold-my-snout-higher contests. Gilda took a second to wonder if houses near cliffs were like window seats in this city. There were fancy snack tables and classical bands playing and a whole lot more crud that made the party look like a pricier version of that day in Ponyville.

Then it clicked.

Blueblood saw her trash that stupid carriage and thought she'd be good for a laugh, so he gave her a hollow job, planning to bring her along to the party tonight to see her make a fool of herself, just like Pinkie Pie had. Well screw him, she'd be on her best behavior! He couldn't fire her if she didn't do anything wrong, right? Union laws and stuff. She wouldn't swear, wouldn't knock things over, wouldn't sock ponies in the muzzle no matter how bad they had it coming, total angel.

As they'd been there for all of thirty seconds before she started getting weird glances, she didn't exactly have her work cut out for her.

They spent the first few minutes of the shin-dig just walking around, Blueblood not so much as making eye-contact with anypony, and the ones looking their way looking more at her than him. Just in case, she kept an eye out for anyone looking like they wanted to bust someone up, she did have a job to do, after all. No one was getting close, but there were definitely a lot of faces like those back at the gazebos as they'd been leaving, and she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, though Blueblood himself was hardly giving anyone a second glance.

Before long, he actually stopped to talk to someone, apparently the birthday girl. She was a pegasus, looked like a grown mare, but her voice sounded sorta fillyish, so Gilda wasn't sure how old she was. That was kind of a thing with ponies, actually. Red fur, yellow hair tied back in a bun, wearing a long, flowy dress that covered her butt-mark. Maybe that was another kind of masquerade ball thing? Disguising their asses instead of their faces? Gilda clamped her beak shut to not laugh like an idiot at the thought as Blueblood made small talk for a minute or two and they learned she was studying medicine, named Phoenix Down. Blueblood said something about good intentions and keeping up benevolence worthy of somethingorother, but Gilda couldn't help her attention drifting.

She saw some ponies she'd seen before here, some of them pegasi in blue suits. Tight, yellow-lightning-striped blue suits. She knew she'd seen those uniforms somewhere, but couldn't remember what the group that wore them was called. Before she could worry about the chances that this would drive her nuts later, a blue-suit pony with fiery, orange hair and yellow wings might have noticed her staring and walked over, lifting her goggles to show bright-orange eyes.

"Hey," said the smiling newcomer in the group's general direction, "surprised you made it out, Blueblood. No petitions that needed vetoing, no proposals that needed rejecting?"

Phoenix Down looked just a little relieved as Blueblood looked away from her to answer the blue-suit. He responded with a dry, oh-what-do-you-want kind of tone. "Yes, my work is not ceaseless. You would understand, I should think."

Gilda picked up a hint of an insult in that last part, but fireball-hair just chuckled at him. "My team doesn't get called out to do stuff all the time either. It's almost like not everypony can afford to hire the Wonderbolts to do stuff, huh?" She gave a friendly wink toward Phoenix, who shrunk back a little when she did. "And no, your old man didn't pay us to stand here. Happy birthday, kiddo!"

The red pegasus smiled sheepishly, replying with a nervous giggle. "Y-yes, thank you, Miss Spitfire."

Spitfire, thought Gilda, that's right, this is one of Dash's idols. Don't know why. The Wonderbolts. Equestria's star fliers. Gilda had actually kept an eye out for these guys in the newspapers, and what she heard didn't impress.

Nodding once, Spitfire returned her attention to Blueblood. "So what've you been up to?" She glanced at Gilda, still smiling a little. "Making friends?"

Then he got that up-to-something smile again. "Something like that, yes." He gestured to Gilda. "I'd like you to meet-"

"Uh, sir?" A pony in a black business suit appeared possibly out of nowhere, whispering into Blueblood's ear.

The prince emitted a quiet, annoyed "Hm." before turning to Spitfire again. "Seems you were prophetic after all, Captain."

"I, huh?"

He looked at Gilda. "Stay and guard the birthday girl, would you? I'll return shortly." And then he headed away from the party area. Or at least, this party area.

She might have taken issue with being told not to stick to the guy she was supposed to be guarding for the second time, but Best Behavior meant playing along. She gave Phoenix Down a sideways glance. "He do that a lot?"

Phoenix jumped. "I-I'm sorry?"

There was a snicker from the Wonderbolt. "Yea, he gets called away like that every other time I see him." She smirked a little, watching him go. "Didn't even get to the usual routine this time."

Phoenix Down self-consciously brushed a hoof along her neck. "I have never seen him up close before, he is a lot more... detailed than the magazines say." She sighed. "I am sure he noticed me blushing."

Gilda raised an eyebrow. "How would anyone know? You're already red."

Blinking twice, as though she was only just aware of this, Phoenix giggled and lightly tapped her own head. "I suppose you are right, Miss... erm... f-forgive me, I think Prince Blueblood was just about to introduce you?"

She gave a quick nod. "Gilda, gonna be guarding you 'til he gets back, I guess."

"I do not think that will be necessary," she nodded to one of the ponies in suits and sunglasses standing around the edges of the party area, "tonight's festivities are well-staffed in terms of security, so I think you will be more than free to roam as you see fit." She blinked, her eyes widening in horror as she realized a possibly-xenophobic interpretation of what she just said. "I-I mean, that's not to say you should go anywhere, or that you shouldn't be here, I-I just meant, uh-"

"This place is perfectly safe," said Spitfire, coming to her rescue, "you really don't have to worry about guarding anyone here." She looked at Gilda with a raised eyebrow. "You haven't been working for him for long, right? He probably just doesn't want you to see how he works so soon."

That caught Gilda's attention. "How does he work?"

Spitfire shrugged a little. "Eh, it's not something you wanna talk about at a party. Aaaanyway," she looked at Phoenix with a hint of a smirk, "you were doing okay with him back there, he wasn't doing that you're-the-dirt-beneath-my-hooves glare."

Again, Phoenix looked somewhere between confused and terrified. "W-what do you mean?"

The grin turned lewd. "I'm just saying, get a little flirtier with it and he might give you a little more than a happy birthday."

Phoenix turned bright scarlet. "M-Miss Spitfire!!"

Huh, thought Gilda, stand corrected.

Spitfire chuckled. "Nah, I'm kidding, guy's stone-cold when it comes to that kinda thing. Still," smirking a little, she quickly scanned the room for any sign of the prince, "worth a shot, y'know?" She noticed Gilda giving her an appraising look and smiled apologetically. "D-don't worry, I don't have any funny ideas, just saying."

It took Gilda a second to remember that she was supposed to be keeping an eye out for potential threats. Maintaining a no-really-I-know-what-I'm-doing-I-wasn't-hired-just-yesterday feel, she gave a sharp nod. A minute later, Phoenix Down was addressed by a well-dressed couple that didn't lower their snouts enough to look at her while speaking as they offered her a stupidly shiny box with a ridiculously glittery bow. That was when she noticed that Blueblood hadn't actually given the birthday girl anything, like he came here exclusively to say 'thanks for not being a tool' and nothing else, if not for Gilda's suspicions on why he'd brought her there.

There was a little problem with that theory, though; Blueblood was nowhere in sight. It was possible he was watching and waiting for her to screw up from somewhere she wouldn't notice, or that he'd have a snooty friend tell him about it later, but the being-watched feeling was getting worse, making it hard to think. Leaving Phoenix with Spitfire and Mr. and Mrs. Whoever, she opted to see if they had anything to help clear her head at the snack table, reminding herself that anything strong enough to do that fast might be detrimental to the Best Behavior plan.

Author's Note:

I think I like writing Gilda. :pinkiesmile:

If it wasn't apparent that this rendition of Blueblood doesn't particularly like his fellow pony, I hope to make it less ambiguous in future chapters. No, not through violence, oddly-placed racism, shouting, having ponies banished, or any display of cruelty whatsoever.