Diary of a Royal Guard

by Triple Word Score

Assorted Musings, General Rambling, and Minor Occurrences

Uncharacteristic Behavior:

I think I'm beginning to understand why Princess Celestia made Shining Armor Captain of the Royal Guard despite his lack of experience. If anything, that lack of experience actually helped him in the selection process because it appears that he never learned how a typical officer behaves.

Look at our morning briefings as an example. Even though I've only been here a few weeks, not once has he showed up even one second late. Anywhere else in the Legion, the commanding officer usually wanders in about 15-20 minutes late on a good day. This is after all the NCOs get everypony together 15 minutes before the staff NCOs want accountability, which is 15 minutes before the junior officers want everypony in formation, which is 15 minutes before whatever is scheduled to happen.

There are other ways he stands out from other officers, such as his apparent immunity to the good idea fairy, but that one example is the most obvious. It's like he saw all the things that officers did that pissed off their subordinates and then decided not to do those things. Or maybe the Princesses have gotten to him. He is, after all, married to one, and his sister is the personal student of another.

---

A Friendly Chat:

Since my unofficial and subsequent official welcoming into the Royal Guard Division, I've found myself much more relaxed while on duty. The others have started to open up as well, and in less than two weeks on the job, I've already gathered a small cadre of drinking buddies.

That isn't to say we're unprofessional while on post. But once the armor comes off, and our cutie marks are visible again, we're all just like any other pony.

Those aren't my words. Princess Celestia herself provided that little pearl of wisdom when she dropped by for a little chat. I had been warned that she and her sister do this from time to time, but I don't think I could have prepared myself for when it was my turn.

I had just gotten off a particularly stressful shift on garden patrol, where I spent the better part of the day helping the groundskeepers round up a mischievous bunch of rabbits and squirrels that were tormenting everypony visiting the palace grounds. I think I now have a pretty good idea what a pegasus might feel after competing in the 24 Hours of Le Pons. I could barely feel, let alone move, my wings from the exhaustion of chasing down small rodents. If only there were more unicorns on the grounds keeping staff. On my way back to the barracks, I grabbed a to-go bag from the chow hall so I could eat after getting out of my armor.

I found a nice, shady tree under which to enjoy my dinner, and barely a minute after getting comfortable, I heard an unmistakable voice ask if there was room for one more. Given the owner of that voice, there will never be a lack of room for one more, regardless of my opinions on the matter.

It took all of her experience in just that situation to guide the conversation from me trying and failing to talk faster than my brain and tongue would allow to something resembling small talk. It will take a while before I get used to being so informal around the Princesses, but Celestia insists that her guards feel comfortable around her in order to do their job properly.

It put the events of last week into a whole new perspective. If there is a genuine threat to Equestria, it probably would not be polite enough to wait for a less awkward time for the guards to inform the Royal Sisters. As such, a guard shouldn't be hesitant to interrupt whatever the Princesses are doing if the message is truly important. Maybe there's something more to what I first thought was a mere hazing ritual, or maybe I'm just rationalizing things again.

Besides, after his 'initiation', each guard gets to choose what will the message will be for another new guard later on. Let's just say that some poor colt will be giving Princess Celestia a dramatic reading of a very steamy scene of a very trashy romance novel. And when I find out who came up with mine...

---

A Blueberry Muffin:

I woke up in a very foul mood this morning. What made it even worse was the fact that I had no idea why I was in such a state. Any attempts to figure out the reason only resulted in fueling the fire of anger and frustration. It bears mentioning that the nobles of Canterlot are quite fortunate that I am a pegasus and not a unicorn or some of them might have gotten new mane styles while I headed to the palace for duty.

At least I could take solace in the fact that I would be down in the kitchens, away from the aristocrats. Now that I think about it, I'm not quite sure why the kitchens need guards. I've heard some ponies argue that it keeps the Princesses from taking too many sweets, but one would think that a pair of demigoddesses would be able to outwit a guard or two.

There is an advantage to being down there, though. Swearing contests with the chefs can be incredible stress relievers, and I needed one badly when I went on post. In the palace, the kitchens have a reputation for weapons-grade cursing comparable only to the guard barracks.

Upon arrival at my designated post, I noted with more than a little disappointment a distinct lack of frayed nerves and ill tempers. In fact, everypony down there seemed to be smiling, and I thought for a moment that I had gone to the wrong place. However, a quick glance at the various stoves and other cookware disabused me of that notion.

I backed out of the room ready to sound the alarm that the royal chefs had been replaced by impostors when that gray-coated, blonde-maned, googly-eyed pegasus who either has a twin sister or changes her name from one hour to the next appeared. She had a tray of muffins.

I wanted to refuse. I really did, but I was powerless against her, and they were blueberry muffins. I was hoping for a morning of inventing new obscenities with the kitchen staff, but suddenly all my anger and frustration at not knowing why I was angry and frustrated started crumbling away much like the crumbs of my impromptu breakfast.

Leave it to a mare to ruin a perfectly good bad mood.

---

Looking the Other Way:

It's the night before Hearth's Warming, and I pulled library patrol. Since the days are shorter in winter, it's already dark out by the time the guards change shift. It's also cold enough that I'm seriously considering going on leave. The birds that fly south for the season have the right idea. I hear Equudor is nice this time of year.

Apparently, Twilight Sparkle is in town again, because I saw her sneaking around near the path from the palace. I say she was sneaking because of the ridiculous black full-body suit she was wearing in her pathetic attempts to hide in the shadows. Does she not realize it's perfectly legal to be walking around Canterlot at night? More importantly, if the stories from the night guards are to be believed, this isn't the first time she's done this. Shouldn't she have figured this out before, then?

Regardless, I paid her no mind. As Princess Celestia's prized pupil, she is allowed to go almost anywhere in the palace or on the grounds at any time she pleases. Not even the most restricted archives in the royal library are off limits.

Maybe she forgot that little detail during her stay in Ponyville, and no one reminded her. In any case, I let Corporal Stargazer know she was there when he showed up to relieve me for the night. She's his problem now.

Comments

[Tom Marlow]

Are you still on hiatus now?

[Triple Word Score]

1679747
I made a blog entry about it here. The short version is that I want to write some of my other ideas, so this will be a lower priority. I'd like to get another story out, or at least make significant progress, during winter break.

[BigBadBari21]

Can I add this to the group called 'The Honor Bound Soldiers Of The Royal Guard'? It's for royal guard stories.

[Triple Word Score]

2482552
Of course you can add it to the group

[MrAlbum321]

This story has been reviewed by The Equestrian Critics Society.

Story Title: Diary of a Royal Guard.

Author: Eratosthenes.

Reviewed By: MrAlbum321.

Summary: Still, though, if all a reader is looking for is a grab-bag of sweets and not a rich gourmet cake, then this story is a fancy box of chocolates: the sense of craft is apparent, but the flavors of each piece rarely last beyond that initial bite. Sometimes, that's all one wants, but a writer should always shoot for something better. Perhaps a truffle?

Full Review.

Score: 8/10

[StarzGecko]

I would have love to see more.