A Simple Guard and Just a Human

by The Synn Lofsvard

Too Late the Hero

Maybe it was the wine. Perhaps he could smell the pheromones your estrus was giving off. Had it been that your advances were too strong, you wouldn’t be surprised. Regardless, the circumstances and possibilities were white noise in your mind when paralleled with the sight of Anonymous, paralyzed with fear, currently being straddled by you.
You had spent the evening with your resident Terran Ambassador, Anonymous, is a calming, albeit enjoyable evening of food and wine tasting. Nothing more than a small banquet held by you and Lulu, for the various Noble Families as a way to keep them entertained during the current political lull. For you, it was an excuse for you to stay close to your dear friend and together, enjoy the evening in each other’s company. And hopefully, afterwards, break down a long standing barrier between the two of you and become more than close friends.
The look of sheer, utter and incomprehensible terror Anon is giving you is proof enough that such aspirations were impossible from the moment you had thought you had come to better understand your dear Anon.

“Anon, my dear, what is the problem?” you ask.
Anon visibly flinches at your voice, snapped out of his paralysis, no doubt due to your failure to realize you adopted the same motherly tone used to motivate or shun your Ponies in public settings, very much a failure on your part, forgetting that the same tone is used to directly invoke feelings of a mother’s love or her scorn. But the line of logic leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and stirs a lingering doubt deep within. It certainly was the most logical, but when it came to matters concerning Anon’s broken state, they were hardly, if ever logical. Truth was stranger than fiction and it was always buried under the miles of lies he had built up around in order to survive whatever monsters he fought, those that had managed to bring him so low.

Thoughts of concern and confusion cause your brow to furrow and this time, you speak adopting your regular tone, “Anon, I can tell something is the matter, please tell me what it is.”
The fear in his eyes flashes sevenfold in its intensity before blinking back into the same distant stare as before. Goddess, you could get lost in those eyes of his. But the moment is broken by him looking off to the side.

“I… I am sorry Celestia. I just have to be somewhere right now,” he says with his voice painted with strain.
‘Oh dear, he’s trembling now. No, his knuckles are white from squeezing the sheets. He’s restraining himself. You even called me Celestia, you have only ever done that in public,’ you worry.
You carefully dismount Anon, careful to not pinch any delicates of his, “Allow me to apologize, Anonymous. I do not know what came over me. I beg for you to forgive my crassness.”
Anon does not respond in kind, leaving you to watch in relative silence as he silently and carefully pulls himself off the bed and stumbles out of your chambers, not bothering to collect his sport coat or tie you had peeled off of him when the two of you entered. Nor does he spare a glance back at you. He leaves you to stare dumbfounded at the ajar door, your mind reeling at the recent turn of events and how quickly they went to Tartarus.
‘He reeked of fear and yet his body was resisting something. I have known something has been ailing his mind, causing his scars to fester. But now, how sure can I be of how well he actually is? He has tried so hard to make his display of being sound of mind, believable, so much so that it looks like he has long since started to believe it himself. This runs deeper and truer than what Discord, Lulu or I even imagined. Was it the situation that put him at unease or was it the being? In either case, this may explain his near constant avoidance in making intimate connections.’ A weary sigh escapes from your patience in frustration at the situation at hoof.

Despite it all, your millenniums worth of knowledge, wisdom and experience, that when brought together made you the perfect co ruler for Equestria, is currently screaming itself red in the face of every cell in your body which yearns to go find Anon and comfort whatever caused his earlier reaction.

Your mind immediately reaches a compromise, stirring you to move off the bed, walking towards the pair of doors Anon left through. Reaching the exit of your chambers, you’re brought before your two regular guards, one of your Solar rank and one of Luna’s Lunar rank.

"First Sargent Gleaming Ember, did you see the direction of which Ambassador Anon took when he embarked," you question using the same commanding tone reserved for all military personnel. Personally, you disliked it, but it garnered the same respect and command needed all the same

The resolute Unicorn Guard gives salute before she addresses you, "Ma'am, Ambassador Anonymous, when vacating the premises, took the right upon leaving your room, before going to the end of the hall, where upon he took a left. Upon which he was out of this guard's line of sight."

The formalities and technicalities were needless, you had a general idea of where Anonymous would go, but such things are needed to keep things running orderly. It became rather apparent during and after the Lunar Rebellion incident, if it wasn't Nightmare Moon’s forces killing the guard, it was themselves when the embraced the chaos of the panic, further fueling the flames. And if you are to have Gleaming Ember do you what you cannot, it’s critical she not fall to the same fate as her brothers and sisters in arms.

"Thank you Sargent Gleaming Ember. You are hereby ordered to find Ambassador Anonymous; from there you shall follow him making sure he is safe. Check his offices, his personal chambers and the embassy before broadening your search.”

‘At least to give him a moment to cool his temperament,’ you mentally comment before continuing.

“I have reason to believe he is not in the best state of mind so he may be prone to violence. Though I very much doubt he will lash out at you, he may do so should you try and attempt to prevent him from harming his self.

“You are aware of what to do should he attack you or should he attempt to harm himself. I shall defer to your discretion on this and put my trust and authority in you. Should he come to retire to his chambers, I want you to guard them until he awakes. Afterwards, you may return to your room in the barracks.

“Otherwise, if all it quiet for the night and he seems fine in the morning, report back directly to me at 1200 hours during the Court intermission. Do not speak of this to any pony and if a superior officer stops you for questioning, tell them to defer directly to me, is that understood?"

"Perfectly Ma'am, with your approval, I shall leave immediately."

A curt nod is all that is needed to send the Unicorn Guard trotting down the hall, following the supposed path Anon took. You know Anon wouldn’t lay a hand on her, but there exists the chance that the specters of nostalgia that are haunting his mind might cause him to harm his self. However, you hold a hope that a nameless face will be enough to pull him back from the edge, if but a step. A pony just as anonymous as the silly name he chose to adopt, one that he can confide in that will be as faceless specter as the ones that haunt him. Its bitter sweet, but you must do what is best for him and hopefully, it can bring about the healing of not just Anonymous, but his similarly situated benefactor.

Despite all that has happened, you can’t help but watch Ember running off, if but for a moment whilst smiling all the while. Loyal as all your little ponies were, sometimes to a fault, it was admirable none the less and you loved them for that and for so much more

Without turning, you speak to the Pegasus Night Guard behind you, "Sargent Smiles, I assume I don't have to tell you that what you may have seen or heard is considered classified and as such, should not be discussed with any other pony besides my sister and me.

“And if my sister wishes to inquire about what transpired, while I can't order you to not tell her since you answer to her before me as all Lunar Guards do, I ask that you first tell her that I’d rather tell her myself first. Is that understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," he simply replies.

"Very good, you are relieved for the night and may return to your barracks. Before you retire from your duties, report to your commanding officer before you are relieved."

As you spoke, you used your magic to hover over a whetted quill and paper from inside your room, before hastily drafting a quick note for the good Sargent. A simple note for his Officer, letting him know of the guard's leave from his post.

"I very much doubt I will be sleeping for the rest of the night, as such, I will not be in any need of a security detail. I also do not wish to be disturbed until I must leave for Day Court. You have your orders, may the winds always be in your favor," you continue.

You pass off the note, accepting the Guard's salute with another curt nod, before you turn back into your room, closing the doors. A bit of thought engages their magical and mechanical dead bolts, cutting you off from the outside.

From an aged oak cabinet, you pull a crystal glass and a well-aged bottle of brandy to match, one of the many that have been gifted to you over the years and have subsequently left sitting in that same cabinet. You hop onto the bed, gliding the distance needed while carrying the bottle of liqueur. A slight miscalculation born from the heat of need causes you to accidentally land onto Anon’s sport coat. The draft lets you catch his smell when you sigh in the comfort of the bed, stirring the hormones in your body, making it grow far warmer than it was before.

For but a brief moment, your mind is forced to resign to a growing test of your patience, “it's going to be a very long night.”

+========+

‘Itinerary. He wasn't in his Room, Office, or the Embassy. He didn’t go to the Guard’s mess hall, the Library, nor has he been seen loitering around the halls by any other stationed Guards and the front Guards Stallions did not see him leaving the premises.’

The narrowing of your field of search calms you, if but slightly. You needed a serene mind for this. You, as a Guard, would not feel fear, you could know no fear.

‘Other possible locations. Banquet Hall, Kitchen, Garden or Throne room.’

A slow of pace is enough to better collect a mental image of your current direction that you are galloping, very much needed due to your auto pilot’s sudden loss of direction.

‘West wing, Second Floor. Anon left Princess Celestial’s room roughly twenty five minutes ago, with his rate of travel, he’d make it to anywhere in the Castle on the first couple of floors in the West, North or South wings. And as I’ve already checked all but one spot he’d be able to reach…”

A jerk to the left causes makes the carpet underneath to give way, but a push in the adjacent direction is enough to keep running without stumbling, in the new direction towards hopefully, the destination of your Charge.

The open columned marble archways leading into the Royal Garden flank your left. Slowing to a brisk trot, you are able to keep one eye out on the garden while another looks ahead to watch your path of travel, the silvered light of Luna’s moon and the gleam of the stars lighting your way.

‘It is almost a shame I hate the night, for a sight this bea,’ the sight of the Ambassador cuts short your reverie, stopping you short of the middle of the hall.

Barely, just barely, have your eyes made out the bi-pedal form of the Ambassador, standing as a silhouette against the night draped before you, his white dress shirt doing him no favors in blending the edges of his form. Judged by the distance he appears to be from you, on the outer edges of the Garden.

It takes all but a second to steel all the nerves needed to make your approach. This was not out of fear; rather, the Ambassador was a figure who could easily catch you off guard with his way with words. At best, it was an odd hobby of his, used in good humor, to inspire hope and wonder, or even to ease pain of the mind. At its worst, he wielded it as a tool with poise and startling precision, against all those who garnered his ire. It was merely being cautious to be ready if he actually was in a supposed bad temperament.

A sedate trot is all that is needed for you to make your way over to him, in part because of your impaired visibility and because you wish to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. You were to observe and intervene as needed, nothing more, nothing less.

Managing to do just that is far from difficult. Your Guard training having taught you well in the art of being seen not heard, though it is a challenge to discern if Anonymous is fully aware of your presence as he gives no physical queues for you to read, unlike ponies who have to actively suppress the twitch of their ears and other odd markers.

The distance is closed leaving you standing a rough ten feet from him. You take your parade rest, ready to wait until the twilight hours of the morning for the Ambassador to move. You had seen Ponies get into moods like this; it’s not alcohol that they use to poison their bodies, nor salt or cheap company, rather a poison that the mind brews. It had different names and forms, but the results were much the same. If the silence is universal to both Ponies and Humans then… You’re better off not entertaining thoughts like that then.

“If you’re worried that I may take a jump, you don’t have much to worry about,” Anon calls out, “Gymnastics were never my forte so I highly doubt I’d be able to do the backflip like I’d want to.”

‘Ah. So he’s just in one of his moods. I, for some reason, am having difficulty if that is any better than the alternative.’

Anon steps back from his resting on the railing, looking around before you are caught by his obvious search.

“Oh god, I thought I was getting loopier. Otherwise I would have looked like a real shithead there,” He snickers with a small smile traced on his face.

You suppress the urge to groan by giving a simple nod of acknowledgement. He gives his head a flick before turning and relaxing back into his lean. Though it is probably the far smarter decision to act as if you have no idea what the Ambassador meant with his motion, you fall back on your orders, to be a shoulder for him to lean on and not because you had a suppressed desire to learn more about him, just like every other guard he regaled with tales of his world.

Once again, you sedately trot over, this time, taking a position next to the Ambassador, looking over the walling and rails that guard ponies from accidentally taking a plunge over. Far below the edge sits the spanning sight of Canterlot, nestled in the stone it was hewn from in the mountain, aglow and buzzing with activity like a swarm of fireflies.

“You know, I’ve forgotten how beautiful a sight this is. My job rarely grants me the time to able to spend time out so late, let alone in the garden. But then again, I never held this sort of sight in high regard. My forgetfulness attests to that. So maybe I just invented excuses to never find time to come out.” Anon rambles from his position beside you.

He cuts loose a pent up sigh, the dull thud of his head hitting the bars makes you cringe slightly.

“Canterlot is a sight to behold, Sir. Though I have never been far out of these walls, I have heard that there is but a hoof full of cities that could hold a torch to Canterlot’s splendor,” you respond in kind.

There is a quaint silence in the pause of the Ambassador’s response, “Those that said that would be lying if they said anything else. Guess I’m the exception. Personally, while I can appreciate the sight, it leaves a cold knot in my stomach. Far, far too familiar to a number of things I’ve seen back home…”

There is another pause but you hold your tongue, there is more to that thought that it seems the Ambassador can’t seem to put into words.

“You know, there are times where if I get a little inhibited, either too little sleep or a little too much to drink, I look out of my room and see a sight like this and for just a moment I forget that home is a far gone impossibility.” he finishes, barely mumbling towards the end.

There is a clench in your gut, leaving your breathing shallow and difficult, leaving you only capable of mumbling a halfhearted apology.

The Ambassador returns the favor with his own mumbled thanks. The simple acknowledgements are robotic and reactionary as currently, by the best guess of whatever part of you that is still aware, both your mind, as well as his, is miles away from here in this moment, with what’s left of you running on autopilot.

So it comes as no surprise that when the Ambassador turns back to take a seat on the stone bench behind, you follow in kind, drinking in the sight of the stars above.

The Ambassador gives a little chuckle, turning to you, “But I don’t think I will ever get used to this for as long as I live here. Back on Earth or Mother Terra if you were into the new age Hippie bullshit, no matter where you were on the planet, you were looking at all the same stars, comets, nebulas and other odd pieces of shit long since dead by the time we came to be able to see them. The North Star was the North Star, Orion was Orion and Scorpio was Scorpio. You probably know the rest of that sentence though,” he finishes with the mirth on his voice barely present.

“What was Earth like, Sir? If the mere sights of Equestria give nostalgia enough strength to bring you so low?” you ask.

The Ambassador gives a weary groan, stretching out his spine, tilting back in his seat. “Earth was… How did Cap describe it? Ah, like a really, really fucking good Chineigh’s stir fry.”

The absurdity of the description gets the better of you and you can’t help but softly giggle.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the Ambassador sweetly smile, “I’m serious though,” he continues, giving a slight nudge to your chest, “We had literally Billions of people, Humans fucking everywhere on the planet. Thousands of different cultures of both the past and present, entire Nations built upon them bringing together the strangest and most polar opposite of groups under their own banners all stitched together with telecommunication.”

The moment is pleasant, leaving you in slight wonder of what these near mythical like humans could achieve…

“And like making a good stir fry, you had the igits who did all the hard work peeling the fucking vegetables, the assholes who threw in the salt and pepper thinking that’s all it needed and the white washed rice holes who took all the sauce to give flavor to their shitty rice.”

And just as swift as it came, the moment is gone. That still doesn’t stop the Ambassador healthily giggling at the dead pan you give him. The moment still catches you though and you’re left laughing in tangent. It may not have been that amusing of an expression but it is quite clear that the both of you are quite weary.

The pleasant silence fills the space as the laughter dies down.

It is quite pleasant; the two of you going back and forth like this. A playful jab is traded for a jab; you get a light hearted scorning on why it’s a bad idea for you to continue to refer to the Ambassador as anything other than Anon and stories are swapped, some serious, others more amusing.

‘As much fun as this is, I still can’t help but wonder…’

“Anon?”

“That’s my name,” he replies.

“What happened in the Princess’ room that upset you so much?”

‘Shining example of tact and curtsey, right here if you ever need one.’

A bitter smile makes its way onto Anon’s face. He looks to the sky wistfully, thinking from the looks of it.

“I honestly don’t know and don’t worry; I know Celestia didn’t ask you to find out.”

Despite the fact you had committed no foul, you still blush in embarrassment.

“In all honesty, it’s something from back home stopping me. Heh.” He forces a laugh before continuing, “As it was; there was never a goodbye said and for those who never say goodbye, they are never truly gone. That part of me that still needed to feel like they were just not there, can’t manage those two words.”

He leans down into the palms of his hands, silent and as still as he was when you first entered the gardens. It is a matter of ease slipping onto your hoofs and nudging Anon’s hand. Like you did upon his request, he accepts the notice and unsteadily rises to his feet, using you to better stabilize his posture.

The halls the two of you shuffle through are empty, even for a night such as this.

‘Seems as if everybody else got the memo that the Amba… Anonymous needed a moment of reprieve, if not, to go be somewhere else for the next hour.’

You lead Anon down the various halls and up the single flight of stair up to his secluded quarters, a pair of carved Oak doors leading into his abode. He gives you a pat and you give room for him to stand on his own. It takes a moment but he manages to stand upright, shaking his head clear for the time being.

“I never caught your name, oh Anonymous Guard of mine,” he says as he unlocks the doors.

“It’s Gleaming Ember.”

“Gleaming Ember… Gleaming Ember… Well Gleaming Ember,” he turns with a slight flourish in his step, taking a bow, “I must thank you for accompanying me for the night.”

Confusion gives way to shock as he takes your hoof in hand and gives it a light kiss. He rises to full height while you stare straight ahead, the sound of the gears in your mind, grinding to a halt are drowned out by Anon’s banter.

“But I must retire for the night. I sincerely hope that we may find the opportunity to do this once again.”

He slips inside the dark room, the doors closing behind him, but you are still left stunned.

‘That mother bucker got me.’

It’s low, but your chuckling fills the halls and you alone are left to enjoy the moment and the slight warmth filling your breast.

Author's Note:

Alright ladies and gents, if you somehow made it here without skipping right to the comments to write angry letters about me and my pet hamster, I will quickly address any issues I can foresee.

One. Anonymous' name isn't actually Anonymous. I started this as kind of a place holder but realized it rather fit with what I had going on later in the story. There will be a bit where it is explained and gives his actual name. So this was not something chosen lightly or because I was lazy.

Two. The story switches perspectives to give different perspectives of the other characters. Think second person omniscient. Right now its planned to switch between Celestia, Anonymous and Ember. Characters up for consideration are Luna, Discord, Blueblood, Twilight and a few others. It is to build a broader picture of everything that is happening and to give insight into the minds of all the other characters.

Third. Yes, its tagged as "Sad" and "Romance" but there are a number of other elements to the story. Think House of Cards with a nice love story that had a number of intermittent slice of life moments.

Finally, my page links to my pastebin that has the original first couple of chapters that I am modeling this after. If you want to read ahead, do so at your own discretion, but please don't bring up anything you read, in the comments, spoiling it for everybody else.

Questions, comments and critiques help me sleep at night.

Comments

[Lord Commissar Alexer]

What's discord's role in this story? Does he get shipped with somepony?

[The Synn Lofsvard]

5675296
No shipping but he does play a pretty important role in the story, giving back story, give context to what happened before the story starts and at a few points, help move things forward.

[theguysaidhi]

“Anon?”

“That’s my name,” he replies.

You're real fucking lazy, you know that?

Anyways, I'm gonna track this and try to give you some feedback.

[The Synn Lofsvard]

5675943
Any sort of feedback I'd appreciate, but as I said, his name isn't really Anonymous and its something that is going to be addressed by the second or third chapter. Its not something I did out of laziness, it was an action chosen by a character who immediately realized that he was in a world where names could have had an immense amount of power.

And as said in the description and by Celestia herself, it was a mask he came to wear for so long that he seems to have mistaken it for himself.