Even the Strong Need Help

by Charlie_K

Twenty-Fourth Entry

The advice from Lieutenant Wall has been quite welcome at the time it'd been offered. But Thunder still regretted actually having needed it at the time. He'd looked like quite the mess when he saw himself in the bathroom mirror, wholly unbecoming of a Royal Guard. His face had been marred by tear stains, streaks, and other things that weren't worth mentioning.

And right now, he really didn't want to think about the corresponding mess that he'd made and subsequently left behind on Wall's coat in turn, during that unfortunate episode back in the barrack's common room. He was going to need to apologize for that at some point.

He spent perhaps more time than he should've, scrubbing his face until it was clean enough to be presentable once again, and working to straighten his mane out until it was even and equally as presentable as his face, with neither a hair nor a trace of fur out of place from being combed.

Her Highness hadn't specified just how soon he should arrive at her office, but he was certain she wanted to see him as quickly as possible. Otherwise she would've specified a time at which she actually had wanted to see him... right?

Regardless, he was trotting along at a very brisk pace towards his destination, to see what it was that she wanted. For the life of him, he couldn't fathom a reason that she might request him.

Unless... unless he'd ended up performing some sort of infraction without even being aware of it it, and she needed to inform him about it before punishment could be leveled in response, as per palace regulations relating to the subject.

With that possibility in mind, he stepped up his pace. Teleporting there would've been much faster, but regulations specified that such travel within the confines of the palace and around its grounds, without possessing good and sufficient reason to warrant its use, was restricted. And if he was already in trouble for doing something, there was no need to add to it with additional infractions.

What events followed as he rounded the corner were perhaps inevitable, as he slammed full force into something that was in his path of travel, knocking himself to the floor with a solid thud in the process before he'd even had time to process what he'd seen as he rounded the bend.

His immediate thought upon collision was that he'd been ambushed by some intruder who's managed to breach the palace's defenses; it certainly wouldn't be the first time. But the cry of pain that followed had sounded distressed, and dispelled that thought.

With a subdued grunt, he pushed himself upright into a sitting position to evaluate the situation before he drew any conclusion as to what was going on, and how he should respond.

He was met by the sight of a fellow Royal Guard currently laying sprawled out on the floor on their back... on her back. A pegasus mare with a slate black coat and feathers, ashy gray mane and tail, and the beginnings of tears perched in the corners of unfocused pale blue eyes that were mostly shut as she tried to sit back up, looking very much like she was trying to figure out for herself what had just happened.

He recognized the mare almost immediately, as being one Private Pumpernickel from the Las Pegasus area. A fresh arrival at the palace to join their proud ranks. So fresh in fact, that she'd only been cleared to make rounds on her own within the last month.

As far as Royal Guards went, she was possibly the physically smallest one who worked at the palace, to the point her issued armor had needed to be modified to ensure a proper fit. Additional holes punched through the strapping, and additional padding added underneath the plates. And even then, that still looked like it left something to be desired. At times it looked like she couldn't even keep everything in place, simply because she didn't have the necessary mass to achieve that goal.

But, as Lieutenant Wall had explained so well, it was what was in a pony's heart that determined their worth as a Royal Guard, rather than their physical status. And so far, in the scant interactions that he had shared with her, he had yet to see or hear anything that would suggest her heart simply wasn't in her work.

"Are you alright, Private Pumpernickel?"

Her efforts at trying futilely to rub her head through her own helmet paused as she fully opened her eyes, looked at him with said eyes proceeding to going wide, and then she proceeded try and simultaneously inhale and yell all at the same time.

"L-L-Lieutenant Thunder Strike! Sir!" she squeaked in what sounded almost like fear, as she immediately sat upright and saluted as crisply as she could. "Apologies, Sir! I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings! It won't happen again, Sir, I swear!"

He regarded her for a moment, and reached the conclusion that he really wasn't liking what he was seeing.

He climbed back onto his hooves, and returned the salute with equal crispness before setting his hoof back on the ground.

"Apology accepted, Private. But please be at ease," he replied as his horn flared to life with a cobalt blue glow, with her easily being lifted back up from the floor, and gently deposited back down onto her shod hooves once again. "In truth I should be the one apologizing to you instead."

"Sir?" she asked in confusion as she stood there.

"I was rounding the bend faster than I should have. Even if you had seen me coming, you wouldn't have had time to respond before we collided," he explained. "So I apologize."

"A... apology accepted, Sir," she replied, unable to completely suppress the bit of a smile working its way across her lips in response.

He nodded, and prepared to leave, but winced far harder than he should have as he moved and was forced to pause his departure.

"Private Pumpernickel, have you been working out lately?"

"Should I be, Sir?" she asked, the smile giving way to confusion.

"It wouldn't hurt, but that's not what I was getting at," he replied and shook his head. "I really wasn't expecting to be knocked down like that. Either your frame belies how strong you really are, or I'm in worse physical condition than I thought I was."

Left unsaid was just how hard the impact had been. Far harder than he would've expected, even with her armor being a factor to take into account.

"I... apologize for that, Sir," she stated uncertainly.

"No matter. No harm done," he replied, grunting to himself as he moved again. "I'll let you get back to your duties now."

"Sir? Before you leave... may I ask a question?"

Again, Thunder paused his departure as he looked back at her. He knew that he had to go see Princess Celestia, and that it wasn't wise to keep her waiting. But he had been the one to knock Private Pumpernickel down in his haste, and interrupted her ability to perform her duties. He had been at fault, and the very least that he could do was be courteous to her.

And if he really was in trouble for something he'd done, it would be better to resolve this matter now, while he still had the chance.

"I don't see a reason why not. What's on your mind, Private?"

"W-well, Sir, some of the other guards are keeping your armor clean for you while you're on medical leave, and I never really thought about this until then; until I actually saw it for myself. You're the only guard at the palace who uses a crested helmet. Everypony else uses the lighter, open-top design that lets their mane serve as a crest. Why is that? I mean, I know it's not any of my business or anything like that, I was just curious."

Thunder would admit that wasn't a question he'd been expecting. But that certainly didn't make it a bad thing.

"It's what I was issued when I first arrived for duty," he stated simply.

"Okay, but why? Was Supply out of open-tops at the time?"

"No, it was a different matter. Back when I was at the Academy, just days before graduation, when the Drill Instructors made us do one last run on the obstacle course, the entire class was exposed to rock lice."

"Eww!" she commented and flinched in disgust, unable to hide her revulsion at the thought.

He nodded. "Resistant to magic, with an exoskeleton like granite, and very difficult to kill as a result. Very nasty little buggers to contend with; they establish a base of operations up in the mane area and entrench themselves like ticks. We didn't have much choice at the time but to get our manes shaved off to remove them. All of us, even the Instructors."

There was a snort that slipped past her lips at the last part. But he said nothing in response.

"But while that solved one problem, that didn't really leave us looking the part of the noble Royal Guard that we'd trained so hard to be. So those of us that got transferred to the palace were issued crested helmets as a stopgap until our manes could grow back in. Some of us were waiting five, even six months for that to happen."

He was quite certain he caught sight of her shifting her eyes in an effort to glance upwards towards his scalp as he spoke, without trying to be too obvious about it. But he chose to say nothing on the matter.

"My mane eventually reached the necessary length to make use of an open-top helmet like others. But after so long, I'd simply come to regard the helmet I'd been assigned as being mine. I'd come to be familiar with it as a whole, its strengths inherent to the construction, and its limitations of its design. It... felt right. If I traded it in for a new one, I would've had to relearn all of that from scratch while I tried to adjust. So while everypony else was rushing to exchange theirs, I approached Captain Armor to ask if it was permissible for a Guard to keep their assigned helmet."

"And... what'd he say?" she asked.

"He explained that there was nothing in the regulations dictating a Royal Guard was limited to only one type or style of helmet or armor. According to him, a Royal Guard was free to wear whatever type or style they wanted in the performance of their duties. The only requirement was that it be of a type and model that was rated for duty, and appropriate for either day or night shift. So I simply opted to keep mine," he explained.

"Woah..." she replied, sounding almost breathless as she spoke. "You mean anypony can do that if they want? Even a lowly Private like me?"

He nodded, remembering how he'd experienced a similar moment of surprise at the time, to being exposed to the idea that a certain degree of latitude was actually permissible when it came to adhering to the rules and regulations of the Royal Guard, in the performance of their duties. Exposed to the unfathomable notion that they weren't actually as rigid and unyielding as the palace walls themselves.

It'd been an... awkward, but ultimately informative and educational moment. And the moment of catalyst that led to his decision to commit regulations to memory, so that he would know these things on his own.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

She shook her head in response. "No, I think I'm good."

"Alright," he replied and nodded. "I'd best get going. Her Highness wants to see me in her office, and I've kept her waiting long enough."

"Her High- Princess Celestia wants to see you? Y-you mean she's been expecting you, and I've been keeping you from seeing her this whole time?" she squeaked in surprise. "Oh my goodness! S-Sir I'm so sorry! W-would you like me to accompany you and explain that I was responsible for your being late?"

He considered the request/offer. By all accounts he could do that; have Private Pumpernickel follow along and explain the whole matter. But if he went that route, it might only yield them both being in trouble. Thinking on it, and what could potentially happen, he just couldn't do that. It would be better if only he were the one in trouble.

"No thank you, Private. But I appreciate the offer," he replied as he shook his head. "I'll let you get back to your duties now."

She still looked nervous, even anxious, but simply nodded in response. And with one last salute being shared between them, they parted ways as she trotted off.

Now then, it was just a matter of him doing what he had to do. And with that in mind he trotted off, in the direction of his own destination.

---

The walk to the receptionist area where Raven Inkwell sat behind her desk took longer than it should have, even when factoring in and allowing for the time that was spent freshening up, and the incident with Private Pumpernickel. But there was nothing that could be done about that.

Not without access to the time travel spell of Starswirl the Bearded, at least. But his security clearance was far too low to get him access to that section of the palace library. But even if it wasn't, the spell's one-minute duration really wouldn't accomplish anything meaningful, and would just raise more questions as a result should it be used.

So he put the whole matter out of his mind as he approached Raven's desk, standing quietly at attention as he waited for her to finish whatever paperwork she was currently occupied with. Interrupting her when she was busy with something related to doing her work was a... bad idea. To put it mildly. Even if Her Highness was waiting to see him, crossing The Raven was simply not to be done.

So he simply stood there, quietly as he waited his turn to have his presence acknowledged.

Fortunately it wasn't a particularly long wait. Just long enough for her to finish with whatever document was in front of her, before she set it off to the side and caught sight of him.

"Good afternoon, Lieutenant."

"Good afternoon, Miss Inkwell," he greeted in turn. "Her Highness sent word saying she wanted to see me."

He thought he could see her nod in response, but he wasn't entirely certain as it followed her pushing herself up from her chair, and could easily be attributed to such.

"Of course. Just a moment."

She moved from her desk to the door that led to Princess Celestia's office, before knocking and letting herself in. His ears flicked in response, instinctively trying to hear whatever was being said. It would've been so easy to cast a sound reception spell and better pick up the finer details, but that would've been entirely inappropriate for him to do.

Eventually, she stepped back out with him.

"She'll see you now."

He nodded, before trotting past the desk and entering the room before the door slowly closed behind him.

Just as he did the last -technically the second to last- time he was in the room, without waiting to be addressed, he marched up to the desk where Princess Celestia sat, stood firmly at attention, and brought his right hoof up to salute her.

"Reporting as was requested, Your Highness. I apologize for keeping you waiting by not being able to arrive sooner."

She offered a polite smile, and shook her head in response. "It's quite alright, Thunder Strike. There's really no need to apologize; I wasn't expecting you to just come galloping here as fast as you could."

"Noted," he stated as he set his hoof back on the floor again, but remained standing at attention regardless. "How may I be of assistance, Your Highness?"

"I was hoping we could just sit and talk for a bit," she explained as she used her magic to both gesture to the chair in front of her desk, and move it outward.

He paused, doing his best to keep his head still as his eyes slowly shifted back and forth between her and the chair, while trying to contemplate what was either being asked, or otherwise suggested. It was... odd. But he hadn't been asked for his opinion on the matter. So he simply did as was suggested, and awkwardly sat down on the chair.

If he had been asked, the floor would've been more appropriate. But nopony had asked him, so it was neither here nor there.

"So how are you feeling? You're looking much better than you did yesterday," she commented.

On the surface it was a very simple question. But at the same time it was anything but simple for him. Primarily because he knew what the answer would ultimately be; what the answer ultimately had to be.

"Like I need to stop wasting time, and get back to performing my duties, Your Highness."

Even before he'd spoken up, he was keenly aware of the fact that such was not the answer that she'd wanted to hear. But at the same time, it was the honest truth, so he had little choice but to say such. A Royal Guard did not lie, and under no circumstances did a Royal Guard ever lie to her of all ponies.

"I'm not asking to be cleared to return to my duties, Your Highness; I know that I'm physically unfit to perform them at this time. My tour of working alongside the palace maids yesterday made that fact perfectly clear, in ways that I wasn't prepared for."

"Oh really now?" she asked, her tone of voice heavily tinged with curiosity. "This is certainly different from yesterday, when you were insisting that you could keep going."

"I was mistaken in my initial assessment of my own condition, Your Highness," he admitted. "Just like I was mistaken in my initial belief that the work I'd be doing, would be made easier by the fact I wasn't wearing thirty pounds of armor at the time. It was technically easier to move about, but the work was physically exhaustive regardless of that fact."

He paused, trying to remember just how many mattresses he'd helped them flip yesterday. Along with how many beds he'd helped make over the course of the day.

"By the time Sergeant Kowalski found us, I could barely even remain standing up. I tried, but I just couldn't keep going. And by the time I made it back to my quarters, I actually had to be helped out of both the dress and the makeup, because I didn't even have the strength to get out of my uniform on my own.

"When I didn't show up for dinner in the mess hall that evening, one of the maids came to check on me and brought my dinner. If not for her I probably would've spent the night unconscious on the floor, passed out from exhaustion, and still wearing my uniform. That... that sort of development has a way of making a pony rethink and reevaluate things," he concluded.

"It certainly sounds like it," she commented.

He slowly nodded in agreement.

"But even after that, I still feel the same way that I did previously, Your Highness; that I need to get back to work and doing my duty. And if commanded, or otherwise requested to do that, I would in a heartbeat. I'd be back in my armor and assuming my post as fast as the speed of teleportation would allow; no questions asked, and no hesitation whatsoever," he stated. "I just... can't quit thinking like that, even though I know that I'm not fit to do any of it right now."

"That honestly doesn't surprise me, Thunder Strike," she stated softly and shook her head. "For better or worse, being a guard has been the sum total of your life, to the point of your willingly excluding everything else that could've been. That sort of mindset doesn't just change overnight. I'd be more worried if you could just turn it off and on like a light switch."

He had no rebuttal to offer up to this particular point. Simply because he had no idea of just how to respond, short of asking the obvious question; one that had already technically been asked previously, and was still without anything resembling a viable answer.

The problem had been identified, but what was supposed to be done in order to address it? The only thing he really knew how to do was work, and work harder. But working harder was what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. What was the solution to that?

The immediate thought was to focus on conditioning himself, both in body and mind, to better withstand the strains caused by the performance of his duties. But that thought was tempered by what he'd been told the other day, about how even an alicorn would eventually break under the strain he'd been subjecting himself to.

And try as he might, as much as he hated to acknowledge it, there was just no foreseeable way of overcoming that simple fact. No amount of endurance training that he could put himself through, was going to build up enough staying power to surpass an alicorn.

But even if he could accomplish such a feat, what then? Even if he could actually transcend biological differences, he would still be in the same boat he was already.

"I... just don't know what to do, Your Highness," he admitted as he looked back towards her. "It feels wrong to be sitting around in my quarters and doing nothing. But it feels even worse to pass by the others in the hallways, just watching from the sidelines as they do work that I'd be doing myself under different circumstances. I feel like I'm... like I'm letting them down by doing nothing while they're stuck doing everything."

She shook her head slowly in response, with a displeased look on her face as she did. But it wasn't the sort of look that suggested she was angry, so he didn't know what exactly it was.

"You're not letting anypony down, Thunder Strike. I promise you that. Although I can certainly understand how you might feel. Our best never seems to be quite enough to satisfy our own standards, even when we're already doing the work of ten others. And no matter what anypony might say to try and assure us, their words never quite seem to be enough. It's like a nerve pain that never truly goes away, and all we can ever do is jut try and learn to live with it."

He nodded. This wasn't the first time this sort of conversation had been had. But sometimes, points simply needed to be repeated and reiterated. And he was thankful that she didn't seem to mind going back over certain points again. Whereas he would be berating himself for needing to be told the same thing multiple times, for not being able to understand it the first time around.

"So how does a pony learn to "live with it" Your Highness?" he eventually asked, hoping that she would be willing to share some much-needed wisdom with him right now.

And if not, he was going to be spending a lot of hours in the library, trying to research the matter in the hope of finding something more significant than what'd been uncovered about the subject of relaxing.

"I'm afraid I can't give you a very definitive answer to that question. The "how" tends to vary from pony to pony. All I can do is make suggestions on what might help," she explained. "Keeping our attention focused towards the future, rather than looking back on the past as if it's something we could actually change, is a good place to start. But sadly that's easier said than done, because hindsight brings regrets after the fact."

That was a fact he was quite familiar with. The past was the past, and beyond their reach for change.

"Not letting ourselves succumb to the "what if" game can also help. But that's also a very difficult one to pull off, since it's a natural tendency to go down that road. We let ourselves become so paralyzed by the possibility of doing the wrong thing, we start second-guessing everything we might do in an effort to stop that, and as a result our indecisiveness can end up making the situation worse than the wrong decision would," she continued.

Again, that was a fact he was quite familiar with. The Academy had stressed, to him and others, that whether the decision was right or wrong, decisiveness was still better than being indecisive and just standing there like an idiot.

"Having friends by your side to help you stay focused on what's important is another worthwhile approach."

He'd been listening the entire time she'd been speaking to him; that much went without saying. But that last one had caught him completely off guard, grabbed hold of his attention, and brought his head all the way back up to look towards her once again.

"I don't understand, Your Highness."

"I wish I could say that surprised me," she commented and slowly shook her head. "Friends are a wonderful treasure all their own, in a way that nothing else can truly compare. Simply having friends around can brighten even the darkest, most depressing of moods. They can seemingly breathe a newfound sense of life into you with just their presence and a gentle smile. Their company can make you feel strong enough to conquer mountains when you're otherwise feeling like you don't have anymore strength left to run on.

"But more importantly, friends help us learn how to balance between work and life, so one doesn't overtake and devour the other. They help us understand how there's so much more to living than simply going to sleep, just so we can wake up and go back to work the next day. A pony's profession should never be allowed to become the most important thing in their life, otherwise that reduces the concept of living down to simply existing for the sake of the work itself. A life without that balance is a very lonely, unfulfilling state of being that shouldn't be wished upon anypony."

He resisted the urge to flinch at her words, but it wasn't easy. He could all but feel her referring to him directly as she spoke. And the worst of it, was the understanding that she wasn't wrong. He had no rebuttal that he could offer up to dispute her points and assessments. Even if he tried, what could he possibly say in an effort to prove her wrong?

"I'm so sorry that you never got the chance to learn that balance for yourself, Thunder Strike. If you had, you might not've collapsed from exhaustion in the shower and been left at death's door from trying to stick to your schedule," she stated, a hint of conclusion in her voice as she spoke. "Instead you charged headlong into your career, obsessively focusing on it to the point there was never any room left for friends or anything else. To the point there wasn't even any room left for you as an individual either."

He wanted to speak up. But He didn't have a clue what he should actually say in response to all that. Her entire statement had been painful to listen to, and sitting through it had...

He stopped, and he thought. He analyzed the situation. More specifically, he analyzed how he was currently feeling in the given situation.

The last time he'd felt like this, had been during their exchange after the visit to his dreams. When she'd been supposedly blaming herself for his situation and circumstances, because she'd wanted him to say something specific in order to turn his own logic back on him to show the fallacy of his position.

Was that what was actually happening here? He really didn't know for certain. But that was certainly what it'd felt like to him right now.

"Your Highness," he spoke up as he slowly pushed himself up straighter in the chair. "Regardless of what could be said about my service, or the choices that led us here, I know this for certain. It's because of my being a Royal Guard that I currently have something I didn't have previously, and wouldn't have had otherwise; a friend. The very first friend I've ever really had."

Now it was her turn to look back at him in response.

"Well now. I certainly wasn't expecting to hear that, but I'm happy for you regardless. Congratulations then," she commented with a smile. "Would you mind if I ask who this friend of yours is?"

He shook his head. "The maid who came to check on me last night, when I didn't show up for dinner in the mess hall. She was... she was very nice. Last night was... it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She stayed even when she didn't have to. We ate dinner together in my quarters, just the two of us. We sat and talked, and she showed me the proper procedure for removing makeup from fur without staining it. We..."

He paused as he tried to determine how to proceed with his tale.

"We ate rocky road ice cream right out of the carton, and raw cookie dough straight from the tube in the kitchen, Your Highness. We... we sat up, watching the Canterlot skyline, and just keeping each other company as we talked until late into the night, until neither of us could stay awake any longer and just fell asleep. It was..."

He had to pause his story again, feeling his breath hitching in his throat once more as he spoke. It was like it had back in the barracks with Lieutenant Wall, but this time around it somehow felt different. Different and accompanied by an unexplained tight sensation around his mouth, and a warm sensation in his face and around his eyes as he remembered. Remembered how the two of them had just talked as they'd gone back to his room after their late-night snacking was done. And once there they talked some more, before eventually growing tired and curling up on the bed as they turned in for the night to get some much-needed sleep.

"It sounds like you actually managed to have fun."

The statement had been so utterly simple, but it'd snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing his attention back to his surroundings.

"I... I think that I did, Your Highness," he admitted uncertainly. And reluctantly, he continued. "It was... it was possibly the happiest night of my entire life. Maybe even moreso than when I graduated from the Academy; than when I found out I was being assigned to the palace."

He hadn't wanted to say it. He hadn't actually intended to speak such a notion out loud, and certainly not give the notion any credence like he had. It was disrespectful to the Organization, and the fine ponies who made it up, to speak such a concept into existence like he had.

But at the same time, for reasons he didn't understand, it somehow felt like it would be even worse to consider not acknowledging the fact for what it was; the absolute truth. Last night had been unlike anything he had ever experienced before in his life. He had enjoyed it in ways that he hadn't even known were possible; in ways that completing a long day's worth of hard work just couldn't seem to compare to. And if he were being honest with himself, it was something that he wanted to do again.

"I'm happy for you, Thunder Strike," she replied in a soft tone, even if the smile on her face didn't really match the tone of voice that accompanied it. "Everypony deserves to have a friend who can make them happy."

He nodded. He wasn't certain why he'd nodded -other than maybe out of reflex to signify that he was listening- but he'd done so regardless.

"Now then. I didn't ask you to come here so we could discuss last night's events. Rather, I wanted to discuss the matter of your continued employment here, and you being able to return to your duties. More specifically, how best to get you to that point."

He stopped, and sat up a bit straighter as he listened closely to gauge where this conversation could be going. Already he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stand up in anticipation, as he mentally readied the spell that would summon his armor from its stand and teleport it onto his frame.

But before he could follow through with his plan to suit back up, she held up her hoof to give him pause.

"Just to be clear, I'm not expecting you to go right back to performing your normal duties. I have something a little different in mind," she clarified.

The first thought that came to mind at hearing this, was the possibility of perhaps being reassigned to a different position on staff that would account for his current physical condition.

Maybe he was going to be assigned to a desk duty position and tasked with paperwork? Somepony had to deal with all those forms that were filled out in the course of each business day, and it was a job that involved a lot of sitting down. Surely he could do that.

"To get to the point, I'd like you to take a vacation," she continued.

Of all the things he had thought to try and anticipate being a possibility, that one was most certainly not on the list of what he'd expected to hear in this situation.

"I... don't understand, Your Highness," he admitted as he tried to make sense of it. "I'm already not performing my duties. Isn't that the same thing?"

She shook her head in response. "Being on medical leave for injuries from a work-related accident isn't the same thing as being on vacation. The two are as different as a freshly cooked meal is from canned field rations; they both might be food, but that doesn't mean one is the same as the other."

He nodded in response. Now that was an analysis he understood quite well.

"You said it yourself, you don't know what to do right now. And left to your own devices, we've seen that you'll simply revert to what you know and try to go back to working, even while knowing that you're not cut out for it. Obviously something needs to be done about that; something different that hasn't been tried before. And for a pony who's been working for over seven years straight without a break, a vacation seems appropriate in that regard."

Try as he might, he couldn't fault that logic when he'd already admitted to not knowing what to do under the present circumstances. Meaning that something different needed to be done to change the parameters, or failure would be the only foreseeable -and achievable- outcome.

"The question is, just where you should be spending your vacation," she continued.

"... Is there a problem with my quarters, Your Highness? They're far more extravagant than the bunk rooms in the palace barracks."

"I'm certain that they are. But in this case that's just not good enough for what's needed," she explained and shook her head. "The palace is far too connected to your work as a guard. Everywhere you'd look, everywhere you'd go, everypony you'd talk with, would just serve as a constant reminder of the fact that you're not currently working. There would be no opportunity for you to think of anything else. Not only would that be cruel, it would just serve to slow your recovery even further; you'd end up being trapped in a vicious feedback loop you couldn't escape from."

It was only through his own rigorous training that he didn't flinch at her words. The very idea of what she was saying, was far more disturbing than he wanted to think about. Being a Royal Guard had been his life's goal, and now it was keeping him from doing just that. The irony of that development was... he didn't even know how to comprehend that.

"The entire point of a vacation is to be able to relax, both physically and mentally. So the only option available is a change of venue to somewhere that's unconnected with your work."

Before he even had the opportunity to perform a proper analysis and form an opinion on the whole matter, or otherwise consider whether or not he should offer anything in the way of feedback, she was already speaking again, while levitating out a rolled up scroll from one of her desk drawers.

"The day you came to apologize for sleepwalking, I was at a loss for what to do. So I wrote Twilight and her friends to ask their advice. They were the ones who originally suggested a vacation was in order. They even suggested you come to Ponyville for the occasion. I'm inclined to agree with them, based on how much good it did for Twilight to get out of the palace, and into the world she could only read about."

Ponyville. There wasn't a pony at the palace who hadn't heard about at least some of the things that little village was associated and connected with. But exactly how much of what'd been heard was factual, and how much was a clear exaggeration, was something he didn't have the answer to. Or at least not yet.

"I've never tried teleporting that far away before, Your Highness," he admitted, already trying to calculate just how many attempts this was going to take, based on his maximum achieved range, and the distance between the two locations.

She quickly shook her head in response. "I don't expect you to be traveling there under your own power, even if you were in better condition. Part of why I asked you to come here today was to inform you that you'll be going by train. A ticket for tomorrow's trip has already been purchased in your name, and is waiting to be picked up at the ticket booth."

He was definitely not anticipating this development occurring. The last time he'd been on a locomotive had been... had been... when he and a few other graduates had been sent to Canterlot to work at the palace. Nearly eight years ago.

"Your train leaves at nine AM, so that gives you time to get ready for your trip," she continued. "Do you have any questions?"

In truth he had a great many questions right now. So many in fact that he didn't even know where to begin when it came to asking them. There just wasn't enough information for him to go on.

"What does a pony actually do while on vacation, Your Highness? What exactly does it entail?"

Out of all the questions he could lead with, that one seemed like the best choice. Perhaps once he knew the answer to that, he'd be able to figure out where to go from here.

But the look on her face when he asked that question, suggested things might not actually be all that simple.

"You don't know? Have you actually never asked the other guards what they've done while on vacation?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It's not something that's ever come up before."

In all the years that he'd worked at the palace, none of the other Royal Guards had ever had reason to tell him about what their vacations involved. And since they'd had no reason to approach him on the subject, he'd had no reason to inquire about matters that weren't his own. If they'd wanted him to know, then they would've told him. So as best he could tell, it'd simply been none of his business, and a Royal Guard knew better than to pry into matters that weren't their own.

"Oh..." she replied slowly. "Well what a pony does while on vacation, is simply whatever they feel like doing during their downtime while they rest and relax. Whatever you do is entirely up to you. You could take the opportunity to learn about who you are as a pony. Maybe be a little greedy for once in your life and stop worrying about others.

"Make some new friends. Find a hobby that interests you. Get hammered and do some karaoke. Find a nice mare to sleep with; or a nice stallion if you prefer, I don't judge. Just find something that's unconnected with your duty as a royal guard; something that you would like, Thunder Strike. Stop obsessing about Lieutenant Strike and his quest to be the quintessential royal guard; it's killing him, and taking you along for the ride."

He nodded as he listened, even though the provided answer really hadn't done him as much good as he would've liked. He still had just as many questions as he did previously, and was still feeling just as lost.

"And how long will this vacation last, Your Highness?"

"I'm afraid that's really not my call to make. Since Twilight and her friends will be hosting you, I've left that decision entirely in their hooves. They'll try their best to determine what you need once there," she explained. "Depending on what conclusion they reach, it could be as short as a week, or as long a month. But with the backlog of paid time off you have from all the years you've been working without missing a day, you really won't be at risk of burning through it all anytime soon, so don't concern yourself about that."

Once again, he nodded as he listened. Not particularly caring for the answer he'd received, but at least it'd given him something he could potentially work with. Provided he planned accordingly.

"Do you have any other questions?" she asked.

In truth he had a great many questions that still needed to be asked. But at the same time, none of them seemed appropriate to be asking right now. Especially not to her, when he knew that she had more important work to be doing. He'd already taken up and monopolized enough of her time as it was.

"Not at present time, Your Highness. I... think that I have all that I need to go on for this assignment."

Author's Note:

This chapter too way too long to write.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

but was worth the wait i find

[Drager]

I hope his maid friend is sent to help Twilight for a time.

[Whitertin]

Mind ofi use this character in a one shot ?

[Charlie_K]

11863466
I'd be curious about what the details of the one-shot would involve.

[Whitertin]

11863476
It's shapping up to be about gen 5 and how thunder is the last royal guard sirt of vibe

[hydra30]

He's a real mares stallion without even trying, or being fully aware of it. He's going to have to beat Rarity off with a stick.

Possibly Rainbow to.