> Waiting For Celestia > by Bronetheus > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was a brilliant flash of magical light from the balcony of Ponyville's library, and then Princess Celestia was gone. The two pegasus charioteers who had brought her there, however, were not gone. They stared straight ahead, harnessed to the gold-plated sky chariot, exactly as long hours of training had taught them. Those years of training had also taught them the skill of unfocusing just enough to scrutinize their surroundings at the same time. Both of the royal guards were looking at the treehouse's balcony in this manner. Celestia was, in fact, still not there. They maintained their composure for a brief while—several hours, to the common folk walking by giving them strange looks—before either of them spoke. "Has this happened before?" asked Gilded Plate. His throat contorted slightly so that his mouth would be almost perfectly still as he spoke. "Not to me," said Stern Rose, with even finer control of her voice than her partner, "but I heard that something similar happened to my predecessor." "What happened with that?" Gilded Plate turned one ear ever-so-slightly to the side facing toward the other charioteer, the most interest and emotion he had shown since the start of his shift. His tail also flicked a fraction of an inch, which he would have been mortified to discover. "He waited there with the chariot until his retirement," she said. "What?" From behind the confines of his tightly sealed mouth, Gilded Plate’s jaw dropped. "It was only a few months away." "How did he survive?" His eyebrow twitched nearly all the way up before he could get it under control again. "His partner brought him food and water," Stern Rose explained as she began the ten-minute process of blinking. "Although he eventually left, after he was told to 'go on without' my predecessor." "Is that what we're supposed to do?" Gilded Plate said, beginning the equally long process of swallowing the lump in his throat. "Stay here until we retire? Yours probably isn't too far, but mine is twenty years away." Stern Rose thought for a moment. As she reflected on the question, the focus of her eyes drifted from the treehouse balcony to the lock of ruby-red mane that had escaped her helmet over the course of the long day and fallen over part of her eye. She noted the strands of gray in the lock and sighed in her imagination. Then she looked over at Gilded Plate, whose shiny blond mane was almost the same tint as his armor, and sighed again, this time in reality. It came out as a soft whisper barely escaping from the confines of her lips. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "There's no protocol about being left behind because it never happens. Every time Celestia leaves her chariot, she returns to it or sends a message, at most, an hour later. Unless we receive orders otherwise, we are to remain in place." She nodded firmly. "The honor of the guard demands no less." "So you're saying she'll be back soon?" Gilded Plate asked, watching the horizon turn orange and red as dusk approached. "Of course," she said. "Or our commander will deliver a message to us." "Great," said Gilded Plate. "Thanks for the information. It's an honor serving with you, Rose." "Likewise." Stern Rose smiled with the corner of her mouth that her companion could see. They watched the sunset together. Distracted by keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, and by the breath-taking sight of the last rays of twilight illuminating a field of ripe wheat in the distance, it took them several minutes to realize that the sunset meant Celestia was likely going to sleep. They came to this conclusion at about the same time, their eyes simultaneously widening several millimeters. They spoke, and their entire conversation took place with the sentences at least several minutes apart. They needed to maintain control of their bodies, and they still needed to stand guard, so they could speak only in between those vital duties. "Just give it time," Stern Rose muttered, preempting any questions. "We'll get a letter soon." "What if she just... forgot about us?" Gilded Plate whispered. "Don't be ridiculous," Rose said.  "Everypony knows that Celestia never forgets anything." "Well, yes, obviously," Plate said quickly—that is, after only one minute, instead of five. "But maybe some very important affairs of state came up, higher priority than us, and she didn't have time?" "That could be." Stern Rose chewed a tiny portion of her lip. "Her chariot probably isn't vital to her plans." "I wonder, does her chariot figure into any of her plans?" Gilded Plate's eyes rolled down slightly, an action which would have been a pensive, downward stare for any pony but a royal guard. "Of course it does," Stern Rose said, swiveling her eyes to the side, which would have been extreme concern on the face of the average citizen. "Even the least of us have our place in Celestia's plan." "Sure, sure, we do," he said, nodding slightly to emphasize how strongly he agreed, "but what about the chariot? She can teleport. She has wings. What does she need it for?" "The Princess can't teleport and fly everywhere, Gilded Plate," said Stern Rose, trying her best not to talk down to him. He normally had plenty to say, but he had not been this full of questions since his charioteer orientation week. "Her power isn't infinite, just vast. I imagine it helps maintain a proper royal image as well. But why do I have to explain this? Didn't your parents and teachers tell you all about the Princess and her grand, wise plan for her little ponies?" "None of them ever explicitly talked about her chariot," Gilded Plate said defensively. "I thought it might be an exception." "There are no exceptions." Stern Rose spoke in as kind a tone as she could. "Just like the chariot never gets left behind, right?" Stern Rose almost reflexively answered in the affirmative, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was the twinkling of the stars overhead, or the empty streets of Ponyville, or the fact that the moon was already a quarter of the way across the sky. She did not know what to say, so she said nothing. Gilded Plate waited for a response, but even after half an hour, she remained silent. Another few minutes of silence passed, but then Stern Rose began to notice the telltale signs of her companion gearing up to say something again. She steeled her resolve. "Okay," he said. "What if she's testing us?" "Huh?" Stern Rose blinked. "What if that was actually an invisibility spell she cast earlier, and she's standing in the chariot right now?" If Gilded Plate had not said something so completely off the wall, Rose would have been ready to shoot him down. She had gotten good at it over their few years together. As it was, the idea sneaked past her impressive mental defenses and wormed its way into her brain. By Celestia, she thought, not appreciating the irony of the phrase in this particular situation, what if he's right? The pair stared at each other, eyes gradually widening, pupils dilating. After another beat of time for that one germ of a thought to fully sink in, both charioteers quickly resumed their stiff royal guard posture with an almost-audible snap. "Wait," Stern Rose muttered. "That's still ridiculous." "Then why are you talking with your mouth shut and your teeth clenched?" Gilded Plate asked, in the same manner. "Because there is the slight, tiny, minuscule, infinitesimal chance that you're right." "That's interesting..." A warm breeze blew by, sending several golden and crimson leaves falling from the library onto the pair of pony soldiers and the vehicle they were harnessed to. "Alright, I give," Stern Rose said a few minutes later, after they both had made absolutely certain that neither the breeze nor the leaves represented a threat to the royal chariot. "What's so 'interesting' about it?" "You completely changed your behavior based on what you say is a really small chance that the Princess is watching," he explained. "So what?" Stern Rose said. "You're doing the same thing." "Well, yeah," he said. "But it was my thought, and I think the chance is greater than you do." "It's a silly thought," she said, a little too dismissively, as if trying to convince both of them. "Why would she even do something like that? Do you really think the immortal ruler of Equestria has nothing better to do than turn invisible and spy on us?" "I think it makes sense," he said, frowning at his partner's disapproval. "Because we fly her all over Equestria, she has to be sure she can trust us completely, right?" "I could maybe see that if it were just you," she said, not seeing the wounded look that briefly crossed Gilded Plate's face, "but how can she not trust me? I've been a royal guard for thirty years!" "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't the one questioning your loyalty." "Nopony is questioning my loyalty," Stern Rose said, "because Celestia is not back there!" His mouth dropped completely open as Stern Rose did the unthinkable—she unharnessed herself from the chariot, stomped to the seat, and waved her forelegs around over it. "See?" she demanded, her hooves passing through empty air. "Nothing there!" "She could be flying now," he said. "Maybe that breeze from before was her lifting off." "Oh, come on!" Stern Rose shouted—actually shouted, loud enough to be heard by regular citizens. All the color drained from her face once she realized what she had done. She stood completely still, internally debating whether it would be more proper to stand guard where she was, or harness herself back to the chariot. Before she could decide, Gilded Plate spoke up again. "Hey," he said, craning his neck around and narrowing his eyes. "Look, Rose. Even after your shouting, nopony's lights have come on." Stern Rose examined the nearby houses. No light shone from any of them. Surely there would have been a couple ponies awake even this late, and a couple more would have turned on their lights to see what the commotion outside was about. But the windows were dark. "You're right..." She peered around the streets and alleys too. No one was outside walking either. "We should ask Princess Twilight what's happening," Gilded Plate said. "Yes, we should," Stern Rose replied, not moving. Gilded Plate coughed. "One of us will still have to protect the chariot, of course." "Agreed." Rose remained still. "So," he said, drawing out the 'so' significantly, "since you're already unharnessed, it would make sense for you to go speak to Twilight Sparkle." "That is sound reasoning, Gilded Plate," she said from the same position. "Maybe soon-ish?" he ventured. "Or now?" Stern Rose shook her head and stared down at herself, as if disbelieving she was not already moving. All she had been doing was trying to figure out why her fellow guard was suddenly asking so many questions. She felt odd now. Not bad, precisely. It was like she had been carrying a heavy load on her back, and that load had suddenly fallen off. She was not sure if it had been something important, or merely a burden. "O-o-of course," she managed to say. "I was just caught up in what we were talking about earlier. It won't happen again." Before Gilded Plate could ask her what in particular she had been thinking about, Stern Rose was at the door of the library and out of inconspicuous-speaking range. She knocked lightly on the door, but her heavy armored boot still produced a massive pounding. When it was over, the absence of the sound made them realize how quiet everything else had become. Ponyville was a sleepy little hamlet, to be sure, but there was always some noise in a town. Now, there were not even any crickets chirping. Stern Rose shook herself out of her paralysis first, quickly turning the handle of the door. It was unlocked, and it swung open with a loud creak that echoed hauntingly through the dead-silent town. She looked back at her partner for a long moment, each of them drawing strength from the other's gaze. They nodded to each other, then Rose strode inside the library. Gilded Plate waited. He was used to waiting, but this was different. The moon was shining brightly, but all its brightness did was make the shadows of the houses deeper and darker. It also illuminated his position like a spotlight. He was exposed. Reasoning that he needed to be ready to move in case of danger, he reluctantly detached himself from the chariot. Now he too had crossed that line. There was no turning back. But it was in defense of Equestria, so Celestia would surely understand, whether she was flying above him right now, or simply heard about it later. He had to have faith in that. Meanwhile, Stern Rose stumbled through the darkened library in her haste to find Twilight Sparkle. The shades were drawn, so the light of the night sky barely seeped in. She tripped over a pile of books and fell to the floor, creating a resounding thud even louder than her knocking on the door had been. "Princess Twilight!" she called as she righted herself quickly. "Are you here?" Silence bore down upon her like a crushing weight. She could barely move under its pressure. Stern Rose's search became frantic. She opened cupboards, looked under tables, and unshelved books. Only when she heard steps behind her did she stop and attempt to control her breathing. "Rose, is everything alright?" Gilded Plate asked, having moved to the doorway. His eyes were shifting back and forth between her and the chariot, to make sure nothing happened to either one. "No!" she replied, still panting slightly. "My whole life, I've believed that Celestia had a plan. Not just for me, but for everypony I know. I could see my place in that plan so clearly. But now the treehouse is empty. Empty!" "I don't really see how that's related..." "I don't understand," Stern Rose said as she half-heartedly turned over a few potted plants. "How could we not have seen them be abducted? Not have heard anything?" "Wait, 'abducted'?" Gilded Plate asked, his eyes growing wide. "Yes." Stern Rose's eyes suddenly widened too, but in realization instead of surprise. "We must return to Canterlot to ensure the safety of Princess Luna!" She barreled out of the library, dashing straight past a bewildered Gilded Plate as she spread her wings wide. "Wait!" he called out. "What about the chariot? We can't leave it!" "There's no time!" she shouted as she took to the air. "Come on!" Gilded Plate ran after his partner for a few beats, but a glint of gold in the corner of his eyes drew him to a halt. He gazed at the chariot’s yokes, worn down from years of sailing through Equestria’s skies. The elegantly curved frame glittered in the starlight. Its smooth design made it look delicate and slight with no one on it or in it. No one in it. He repeated, though only mouthing the words, too awestruck to speak. Gilded Plate stared at the crescent moons on the wheels, the solar starburst on the front, and the royal pennant hanging from its flagpole. He had never consciously realized how powerful a symbol this vehicle was until tonight, while talking with Rose. He felt a heavy weight pulling on—or crushing?—his heart just thinking about how much it meant. Celestia did not ride the chariot because she was lazy or arrogant. She rode it because her subjects loved her, and they loved the symbols associated with her. Celestia might or might not have been sitting invisibly in the chariot's seat at that exact moment, but she was still there in a very real way. But if he did not leave, the symbols might soon mean nothing, rendering the chariot nothing more than an expensive lump of wood and metal. With gritted teeth, he abandoned his charge and took flight, beating his wings quickly to catch up with Stern Rose. Together, they made their way to Canterlot as fast as they could. The City on the Mountain was almost as dark as Ponyville, save for the royal palace within it. Canterlot Castle was brightly lit with torches and magical spells. The gates were closed, but no other royal guards were in sight. The pair of pegasi banked and made straight for the keep.          Stern Rose had to slow herself down repeatedly to stay in formation. She was desperate to find out what was happening, to find out why Ponyville and Canterlot were so quiet, to find out what fate had befallen the Princesses. Even though her partner was younger and more fit, her drive for answers shaved years off the age of her wings. Plus, Gilded Plate seemed unusually sluggish, and she noticed a slight frown on his face whenever she looked back at him. It did not suit him, she thought. They landed as quietly as they could on a balcony. Stern Rose rushed up to press her back to the wall to the side of the entry, and Gilded Plate followed her lead. They turned their ears toward the threshold, which was only protected from the outside by purple, silken curtains. Rose risked craning her neck around to peak in. There was no one in sight. Just one of the public, vaulted hallways, with marble floors and stained glass windows depicting some of the lesser triumphs of ponykind. They both heard the distant sound of voices speaking loudly. They flew to a small window in one of the castle's parapets, closer to the source of the voices. The small window opened into another empty hallway, from which they could now make out the words clearly. They could also tell where the words were coming from—inside the throne room. "I've already dealt with Celestia," a male voice said. "Now I shall sacrifice you three to the dark gods and finally bring my plans to fruition." "No!" shouted a mare. "Not my children!" A loud, boisterous laugh echoed down the hallway. Nodding to each other without a word, Stern Rose and Gilded Plate made their way toward a window closer to the throne room. Indistinct but pony-like shapes were moving inside, so they were not too late, but they would have to break through the glass to get in. Unfortunately, all of the windows there were made of elaborate stained glass artwork. "Maybe we should go around another way," Gilded Plate whispered, chewing slightly on his lower lip. "And lose the element of surprise?" Stern Rose said. "No, we have to make this quick." "But Celestia had these put in." "Celestia is in danger!" Stern Rose gesticulated wildly, her voice as loud as it could get and still qualify as a whisper. "If we don't go in, nopony will be around to appreciate them." Gilded Plate nodded. "Okay, then, which one do we break through?" Stern Rose sighed. "Why does it matter?" "Take that one, for instance," Gilded Plate said. "It shows the triumph of Fillydelphia's militia in holding back the parasprite infestation long enough for Celestia to arrive. Is that more or less important than that one, which has Celestia herself on it, bestowing wreaths on the victors of the last Equestria Games? Or what about this one, which depicts the founding of Ponyville?" Stern Rose snorted and dove right toward the last one, but pulled herself into a stop at the last second. Gilded Plate's questions had gotten to her again. "Fine," she said. "As far as symbols go, I say victory in athletic competition is marginally less important than the heroism of common ponies and the founding of one of Equestria's most important cities." She pulled back, then dove toward the middle window, preparing to smash through the scene of the Equestria Games. "Wait!" Gilded Plate whispered at the top of his lungs. "You're going to break through an image of Princess Celestia herself, just like that?" "I've known her longer than you," Stern Rose said. "She'll understand." With yet another swooping head-start, she crashed through the window, scattering Celestia's likeness into thousands of tiny pieces. Gilded Plate followed, looking at each shard of white, green, purple, and blue glass as they flew by, trying to burn them into his memory before they no longer resembled the Princess of Equestria. The pegasi landed on a hard wooden platform. "Everypony stay calm!" Stern Rose shouted. "The royal guard is here in force!" The hundreds of ponies sitting in the chamber gasped, with wonder and delight slowly creeping into their looks of shock. Among them were Princess Twilight, her friends, and Princess Celestia. "You're too late!" a pony right next to them said, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear. He was dressed in armor that appeared to be made of tin foil, and he had a wooden sword at his side. He drew his fake sword in his teeth and advanced toward his "prisoners", a trio of foals in colorful but ragged outfits, bound so loosely to a two-dimensional tree that they could easily get out if they wanted to. "Follow my lead," he whispered to them. The three foals cheered haltingly. "We're saved!" one said, also projecting her voice. "Celestia has sent her heroes to free us!" A burst of sound made even Stern Rose and Gilded Plate jump. Between the tall wooden platform and the hundreds of ponies watching it, a semi-circular pit had been erected, and a bewildering menagerie of animals, from birds to bears, chickens to eagles, stood inside it, all of them dressed in custom-tailored, three-piece suits. They were cawing, roaring, hooting, etc., but in such a carefully coordinated way that it sounded like music. And the music they were playing was an epic and soaring symphony, full of every animal that could make a sound even remotely like a horn. Twilight Sparkle's friend Fluttershy was directing them with a conductor's baton in her teeth. "Should I still go on-stage, or what?" whispered a pony, a white unicorn with fake wings tied to her sides, from the other side of the platform. "Nopony told me I would be upstaged like this!" "I didn't know either!" the pony she was talking to insisted. "I think those are real royal guards though, so let's just run with it." The unicorn sulked, but said nothing more. Meanwhile, on the stage, the stallion with the wooden sword charged at the completely bewildered pair of pegasus charioteers. He performed a series of exaggerated, slow-motion strikes, which they were still too dazed to dodge. The fake sword bounced harmlessly off of their armor. "This is the part where you beat me up," he whispered to them, leaving himself wide open to any attacks while still seeming like he was fighting. Stern Rose looked from their "attacker" down to Princess Celestia, who was seated in the front row. She had a small smile on her serene face, and her neck was craned forward so slightly that only a royal guard who had known her as long as Rose had would notice. Celestia's eyes showed the same deep sea of emotions they always did—overwhelming kindness, distant sorrow, quiet joy. The only thing that they did not show was recognition. She did not know who they were. Gilded Plate's eyes followed the same track, but his thoughts did not. The way Princess Celestia looked at him then, full of hope, pride, and love, made everything make sense in a way he had never experienced before. For once, he had no questions. Celestia had known they would come. Gilded Plate turned his gaze back at the same time as Stern Rose, and their eyes met, both of them eager for confirmation of their conclusions from the other. But Gilded Plate was shocked to see pain and confusion on Stern Rose's face, and she was, in turn, surprised to see a steely conviction from him, the kind she only saw in the oldest royal guards. A few long seconds ticked by, with the music transitioning into a slow, somber piece consisting of the softest sounds the assorted animals could make. Then Gilded Plate strode forward boldly. He knew full well that he was about to throw away decades of discipline and reputation, but it had to be done. She was his friend and his comrade. He had to be there for her, as she had so often been there for him, like today. Only a few hours ago he had wrestled with the same doubt, which was now written all over Stern Rose’s face in a terse language only the two of them could understand. Gilded Plate wrapped his neck around Rose's in a hug and draped his wings across her back. She flinched momentarily, but then returned the simultaneous neck-and-wing hug with gusto. As the royal guards stood there embracing each other, showing more emotion than it was commonly believed royal guards could show, the actors and audience alike stared. The colt with the wooden sword dropped it. "Okay, uh, I can work with this..." he said to himself. Then he turned to the audience and resumed projecting his voice as he struck a dramatic pose. "What have I done?" he said. "All this time I have served the dark gods, because I have never known love and friendship. Now I see it before me, and my whole life has been revealed to be a sham! Woe, woe i—" There was a loud bonk. The foals had used the distraction to escape their bondage, pick up the fallen sword, and whack him on the head with it. "Quit hamming it up," one of the foals whispered. "My understudy could do better." "You didn't have to hit me so hard," he said quietly. Then, more loudly, "And now I am slain! I am sorry, everypony! So sorry..." He fell down onto the stage and played dead. With that, the curtains were quickly drawn. The stage erupted into chaos as actors, writers, technicians, and everyone else scrambled around, talking to each other and to the royal guards. Outside, the animal orchestra swelled in volume to hide all the noise, but it was mostly unnecessary, because the audience was applauding hard enough to cause a miniature earthquake. Laughs and cheers filled the air. Gilded Plate stepped back from the hug and fielded the questions as his partner brooded, explaining the situation as best he could with as few syllables as possible, and trying to get an explanation in turn. He had never heard of a play like this before. Apparently it was a brand new one, written by Rainbow Dash herself, and that was why the Princesses—except for Luna, who was busy patrolling the dream realms—were in attendance. Fluttershy had conscripted nearly every animal in Ponyville to be in the orchestra, and the Mayor had arranged for almost all of the residents of Ponyville to come stay in Canterlot to see the play's premiere week. The play was also not supposed to be over yet. "Neither of us have ever acted in our lives," he said to the director, "and that's not why we're here." "But you'll be perfect!" the director insisted. "Half of a royal guard's duty is acting. Let me just get Miss Dash back here to discuss it." He moved to exit out of the side of the stage, but stopped in his tracks when he nearly ran into someone else coming the same direction. And not just anyone else—Princess Celestia. He dropped to one knee, and in a few moments, everyone else behind the curtain did as well. "I would like to speak to my guards privately, please," she said softly. Though her words were quiet and her tone was tranquil, the entire crew could hear her perfectly, and they hurried to move backstage. Celestia watched them go patiently, still smiling. Once it was just the three of them, she walked forward slowly, until she was standing tall and relaxed before Stern Rose and Gilded Plate. "While I regret the destruction of that window," she said, with a tiny but more than sufficient bit of reproach in her tone, "I have to say that including real royal guards in the action was a bold move. I do love a good surprise, and a good improvisation! Shouldn't the two of you be resting, though? You are guards of the day, after all." "We couldn't rest while the royal chariot was still awaiting your command, Your Highness," Gilded Plate said. "The royal chariot?" Celestia said. She blinked once, then blushed faintly, then chuckled. "Oh, goodness. I did it again, didn't I?" "Did what again, Your Highness?" Gilded Plate asked. "Forgot the chariot," Stern Rose answered flatly. Celestia's blush deepened, and she tried to stop herself from chuckling more. "No she didn't, Rose," Gilded Plate said. "She left us there so that Princess Twilight could take the chariot to the play." "Then why did Twilight Sparkle leave without us?" Stern Rose countered. "Perhaps Princess Twilight didn't see us," he said. "It couldn't have been Princess Celestia's fault." Celestia looked back and forth between the guards as their argument intensified, and her tiny laugh bloomed into a full-blown giggle. A dignified, restrained giggle, but a giggle nonetheless. Their heads snapped up to her and their mouths immediately clamped shut. For a brief instant, she looked almost... wounded by that response. Celestia stopped laughing and regarded the pair solemnly. "I regret to say," she said, "that sometimes things do indeed slip my mind. I wish I could be everywhere I am needed at once, so I am too hasty at times. I've dealt with it long enough that it only happens every couple decades or so." Celestia grinned, half-mischievously, half-bashfully. "I hope," she added. "See?" Stern Rose gave her companion a significant look. "No invisibility spells." "She didn't say that," Gilded Plate said. "You're right, I didn't." Princess Celestia winked at them, then cleared her throat. "Now, the intermission is drawing to a close soon. I would very much like to see how this play turns out with the two of you in it. Are you going to stay?" "Respectfully, Your Highness," Gilded Plate said, swallowing a lump in his throat, "we left the chariot unattended in Ponyville, thinking that you were in danger. We must go bring it back." "In the unlikely event that anything happens to it, I have others," said Celestia, waving her hoof away dismissively. "On the other hoof, I don't think I will have a night quite like this one for a long while." The charioteers glanced at each other. Before the hug, they might have refused, but now, they came to a silent agreement. "We'll do it," they both said at once. "Whatever 'it' may be," Stern Rose added with a frown. "I am delighted," Celestia said as she did a quick, dainty clap with her forehooves. “I will bring you both flowers after the show, and then we'll talk about getting that window replaced. Break a leg!" They stared at each other in confusion and horror upon hearing the last phrase, which was only mildly mitigated by watching the Princess turn and gracefully depart the stage. Then they were bombarded by makeup artists, understudies, actors, the director, and Rainbow Dash, who mentioned how “awesome” it was to have them here about every fifth word. Together with the crew, they worked out a way for the two royal guards to fit into the play's final act. Finally, the curtain was ready to be drawn. As the troupe took their places, Gilded Plate took one last look at his comrade. Her neck, while still held erect and proud as befit her station and responsibility, was bowed several fractions of an inch lower than his, and her eyes were slightly more unfocused. "What's the matter?" he asked her quietly. "There's no plan for me," Stern Rose said. "She forgot me." "No," he said firmly. "She does have a plan for you. Consider this. She knows that she forgets parts of it sometimes, but she thinks so far ahead that she compensates for that. Isn't that amazing?" Stern Rose scowled until Gilded Plate's ears flattened to the side of his head. "Okay, sorry," he said quickly. "Bad time. But look." He took the new, altered script in one hoof and waved it around. "There may or may not be a plan for our whole lives, but we do have a plan for tonight. Let's make them happy." Stern Rose stared at him as the seconds were counted down until the play was on again. She nodded, slowly and reluctantly. But she nodded. "Okay, you’ve convinced me,” she said, “but you’re definitely buying the drinks after this shift is over. We have a lot to talk about this time." "I always buy the drinks," Gilded Plate said. “I know, and I genuinely appreciate serving alongside such a true gentlepony,” Stern Rose replied, her eyes glinting. "Likewise." The charioteers smiled at each other so broadly, by their standards, that the expressions would register as smiles to anyone, not only other royal guards. Then they turned to face the audience as the curtains rose.