Thoughts of a Servant

by CrackedInkWell

First published

After an accident involving one of the servants and getting yelled at by Blueblood, Celestia goes to see if the servant is alright.

Warning: the following story is currently unedited.


Silver Tray was certain that he was going to be fired for sure. In all the years he had been as a waiter for the meals of the Royals, he had made a mistake that got him yelled at by Prince Blueblood. He was certain that his years of stability were over. But as he was preparing to leave the palace, Celestia comes to see if everything is alright.

What Has Been Unspoken

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I’m never the kind of pony that has an opinion. How could I? When your only ongoing employment rests in the Royal Palace of Canterlot – you don’t go to a servant for what they think. We are only there for one thing, and one thing only – to shut up and do what you are told.

Who am I? I doubt you would notice me, but to be fair, everypony who does work here tends to blend in the background. The guards all look the same. The maids all look the same. The butlers, the gardeners, and even those who do the laundry look as though they were cloned over and over to do various jobs to make sure that everything runs smoothly. If you care to know who I am, you can call me Silver Tray. All you would need to know for this story is that I am one of the few earth ponies who work with the kitchen staff – a waiter to be précised. My appearance isn’t much to talk about – you might say that it’s blander than salt. A stallion that’s approaching middle age, cream coat, slick-back sapphire blue mane, and tail, aged gold eyes with a bright red bowtie underneath my chin. The uniform is standard for my class of work – spotless white.

Now, for anyone to appreciate why this is being put to paper, I first need to try to describe what my daily routine is as a waiter. Before the break of dawn every morning, I get up, have a quick shower, comb my mane, brush my teeth, put on my spotless uniform, and head directly towards the kitchen. By then, the chiefs there who had been up far earlier than any sane pony would be just about ready to send breakfast up. There’s a moment or two of making sure that everything aspect of the presentation is flawless as possible before a silver dome is placed and for I to carry it up as quickly as possible. Of course, I’m not alone in this task as we hurried up the stairs towards the private dining room of the Princesses. We get there just as they’re sitting down, place the dishes, uncover the domes, stand back, and let them eat. We stand off by the walls to wait on them to see if they either needed something before they finish and clear off. And once they’re gone, we pick up their dishes, the trays, return to the kitchen – and then we eat.

It's the same sort of routine with Lunch and Dinner, as well as Midnight Lunch for Princess Luna. The work itself isn’t terribly long depending on what is going on. And fortunately for us, there’s plenty of leftovers so at least none of us ever go hungry. Before you jump to conclusions, from my experience, the job isn’t what I would call terrible. I could probably name a few at the top of my head that might be more stressful, or labor-intensive than what I got. The pay is decent, and with my shift, I’m free on weekends. The only thing about it that makes it challenging is, really, the ponies dining. Not just the sister Princesses, but also their nephews as well.

“But what makes it so mindboggling stupid is how careless it was all planned out – if at all!”

It started over lunch when the prince had decided to grace us with his very appearance. Celestia sat right across from him while the rest of us were by the wall. You would be surprised how much sensitive talk is casually thrown about around that little table with all of us standing there, listening. Blueblood was engaged in a pastime of his whenever he could get his aunt’s ear in – complaining.

“The tables were set up completely wrong, the tablecloths were in the wrong color, and I had to spend a good portion of the dinner talking with the Griffon ambassador while the food was still being prepared.”

To any other pony, any other normal pony, this is just someone running their mouths over something so mundane. I confess however, Blueblood isn’t the only one that does this. In all the time I’ve worked here, all of them – yes, including Celestia – had complained bitterly over every subject imaginable. And yes, sometimes those complaints are aimed at us servants regardless of if they’re aware that we are there listening or not.

“I mean, really Auntie, it’s incredible that the griffon stayed at all while we waited for an eternity for the servants to do their job.”

I frowned but… that’s all I can do. The thought did come where I wanted to pick up the picture of pink lemonade and dump it on his head came to mind but…

“But it did turn out well,” Celestia commented, dapping her lips after a bite of a stuffed mushroom. “From what I’ve heard, the ambassador said that the food was worth the wait.”

Blueblood huffed, “If I had it my way, there shouldn’t be any waiting at all.” He downed the last of the pink lemonade in his glass.

The prince didn’t need to be asked if he wanted to have his glass refilled, but I was already there. Going up to the table to pick up the picture of lemonade and started to pour it as soon as he sat it down.

“Honestly, I’m relieved that it didn’t cause an international incident,” Blueblood remarked. While he said this, I didn’t notice him reaching his hoof under me to snatch the bisques. Perhaps neither of us was paying attention by the time I finished pouring and had taken a step back at that very moment. Because the next thing I knew, the picture suddenly tilted in my direction and my uniform was splashed. The shock was enough to let out a surprised gasp.

For a moment, it was as if time itself had unexpectedly stopped at the second I let out that gasp. All eyes were on me, the waiters more so as I had broken an unwritten rule – never, ever make a sound in the presence of a royal. In all the years I had been at this job, I never knew anyone that broke it – but I was certain that I would be fired for sure.

What was mortifying was that not only did I splash pink lemonade on my white uniform, but even the tablecloth and Blueblood’s hoof as well. In my head, I was sure that broke at least twenty rules in under a second. I was convinced – no, I knew that I was done.

“What did you do that for!?” Blueblood demanded.

I was too shocked to get a word out.

“You know what, just get out. Get out!

Like the drop of a guillotine blade, eighteen years of stability had died in the space of a few seconds. I didn’t bother to bow before I left – I just left. Shaken. On the edge of tears, I retreated to the servants’ quarters. Convinced that I was well and truly fired. Hunched over the edge of the bed, I was overwhelmed by the dread that I’m going to be banished from the palace, and I would have nowhere in Canterlot to go.

I didn’t have much that belonged to me – some bits, a few books, pills for headaches, and a thermos – everything else that came with the job like the bed, the room, food, or security I will have to leave behind.

But then, before I could leave, there was a knock on the door. “Excuse me? Are you still there?” I couldn’t believe it. Celestia, Princess Celestia, who I had never once seen in the servants’ quarters before, was outside my door. Going over to open it, sure enough there she was standing there, craning her neck down. “There you are, I was going to say something back in the dining room, but you already left.”

“Princess,” I bowed, “I uh…”

“Do you mind if I came in? I want to see if you’re alright.”

Wordlessly, I waved a hoof inviting her. It wasn’t every day that the leader of the entire country asks to come inside your one little room for a talk. She had to crouch down a little, craning her head down just to get through the door, and she barely fit inside the already cramped space.

“Why are you out of your uniform?” she asked.

“Isn’t it… obvious?” I raised an eyebrow, taking my seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m fired, am I?”

She blinked.

“I’ve already embarrassed the prince and you made a mess of things and-”

“But it was an accident.”

I shook my head, “That doesn’t matter, Your Majesty. I’m done. I can’t come back from something like that.”

“Surely you’re a being a little too harsh on yourself for something so trivial.”

I said nothing.

“It was an accident, and my nephew shouldn’t have snapped at you like that… I’m sorry, I realized I don’t know what your name was.”

I huffed, “It won’t matter, you’ll forget it by the end of the day.”

She frowned, “Now look here, regardless of what you may think, you’re not in trouble. You’re not being fired for anything. If anyone should apologize it’s my nephew. No one, I repeat, no one is letting you go from your position. It was an accident; I saw it happen.”

As much as she was trying to comfort me, it felt… uncomfortable. “Why did you come looking for me and not my supervisor?”

“Because I was concerned. You ran off before I could stop you.” There was a pause, looking at me up and down, “Are you okay?”

I didn’t answer.

“… You’re not, are you?” She sighed, “Listen, I’ve lived long enough to notice if something was wrong from other ponies. Just by looking at you and how you spoke… clearly, you are not okay. Alright,” She sat on her hunches, her back against the wall, “I’m listening. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

I shook my head, “I… I can’t.”

“Course you can.”

“No, I… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“…”

“Well, could you tell me your name first?”

“It’s Silver Tray.”

“Good, progress!” she giggled. “Okay Silver, so what’s on your mind?”

I looked at her strangely, “Are you… serious right now?”

“Of course, I am. I figured that what you probably need right now is someone that will listen to you. Well, here I am.”

I shook my head, “But Princess… I don’t want to lose my job.”

“You won’t.”

“But…” Now this was starting to get scary.

“You can freely say anything to me.”

I raised an eyebrow, and I said three words: “No I can’t.”

She blinked, tilting her head in confusion. “Pardon?”

“I mean, I’m not free to say anything to you.”

“But you’re talking to me right now.”

“No, more like I can’t just…” I gestured with my hooves, “give you what I think.”

“Of course, you can. Why couldn’t you? How can I help if I don’t see it from your point of view?”

I looked at her, and deadpanned, “My point of view? With all due respect, Your Highness, you won’t like my point of view. My point of view would probably horrify you. My point of view would earn me a one-way ticket to the sun. I doubt you would even want to be in the same room as me if you even knew what I think.”

She frowned, “Try me.”

I blinked, “What?”

“With all due respect, Silver, I may be a princess, but I am also a being that has over a thousand years of experience. A thousand years of gained knowledge to know enough that I know that I don’t know. Do you think you can offend me? Horrify me? You think I can’t be capable of handling distressing news when I have been doing that as my job every single day since a crown was put on my head. I’m not so easily shaken. If anything, what does knock me down, only makes me stronger, kinder, and wiser. If anything, you must try incredibly hard to even shock me. So, Silver; I’m listening.”

I scootched back on the bed. Crawling backward to where my back rests on the pillow. “It’s just… I have worked here as a waiter for eighteen years now… In all that time, no one has ever asked me how I’m doing, what do I think, what do I want. Because I’m not free to give it.”

“That’s what I’m curious about. Why aren’t you free to give it?”

“Because I’m a servant, Your Majesty. A waiter.”

“And?”

I shook my head; she doesn’t get it.

“You are a pony after all. I don’t see why being a servant would prevent you from speaking your mind.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Princess, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“When was the last time you ever remember of a servant telling you to your face what they thought?”

“Well easy, there was…” She trailed off. “I mean there was the time that, no… But there was that… I mean there must have been…” Her eyes widened. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Do you know why?” After a long pause, she shook her head. “Princess, I know that I’m going to get fired anyway, so this is why I’m going to say this out loud to you. If you really want to measure anything resembling freedom, or rather, who has it; don’t measure it by everypony being equal. To me that’s absurd. Don’t measure by how many freedoms this or that we have. Don’t measure by how much progress we’ve made or improved by. Instead, if you really want to know how free someone is – look at those who complain the most.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I don’t follow.”

“The fact of the matter is, regardless of how you may think, I’m not free. I can’t recall a day I was ever truly free. My parents never tolerated me for raising a complaint, and if I did, I would be seen as doing something bad. All my teachers from pre-school to high school don’t care enough to know what’s bothering you. My supervisors in the past made it clear that we servants shouldn’t be allowed to show anyone that something is wrong. What’s that? You’re feeling sick, have anxiety, are feeling down, or have a complaint about who you’re serving? Too bad! It’s either this or the door. You want to know what's my opinion, well I’m sorry to disappoint you, Princess, but I don’t have one. I’ve already smothered it in its sleep when I was only a teenager. Why? Because I know that I could either be myself, or I could have stability. Everyone in my life has made it clear that I could have one or the other, I can’t, nor should I ever have – both. You can be honest with yourself and those around you – or you can a paycheck, have a small community of friends, and have satisfied parents back in Fillydelphia. But both? No. I can’t have both.”

When Celestia didn’t comment on that, I looked over to her, “Do you know how unbelievably blessed you are just to be able to complain? To be offended out loud? To say what really is on your mind and be tolerated? I wonder at times what it must be like to rage. To rant. To complain bitterly must be something close to a spiritual experience, I can imagine. That is something only offered up to people. I’m not people, Your Majesty. I know what I am. Everyone in my life has made it clear from my parents, my teachers, my friends, my fellow servants, my supervisors, and even you have made it crystal clear who I am. I’m a servant. My only role in life is to simply shut up and do as I'm told. You have an opinion? You disagree on anything? You don’t like this or that? Well too bad! So sad! Get out and don’t ever associate with us ever again! The only reason I have been able to stay for so long is that I know nothing outside of these walls will ever be better. That I could aspire to have anything beyond this?

“Do you, as someone who is at the very top of the very planet knows how unbelievably blessed you are that you can say what you do and not be fired for it? Not be kicked out to the streets? Be denied having money? Or food? Of having friends? Or having a place to go to every night? To say anything – anything – you want to your family, your friends, your own country, and be not just be hated but continue on the next day? You can do all of that. Anyone who is genuinely free, genuinely happy, doesn’t need to rely on silly things like money, or food, or shelter, or long-term employment, friendship, or yourself-forbid have anything beyond that... For you to get angry, shout it at the top of your lungs. You are free. For you to get depressed for months on end and say that you are. You are free. To say that this, that or even whoever is the worst thing to ever to exist on this planet and groan about it. You are free.

“I… can’t.” There was a pause. “Try putting yourself in my horseshoes. Try having yourself not just annoyed, but angry, sad, depressed, jealous, envious, have doubts, or think so-and-so is an idiot or anything like that – and never saying a word. Not ever express it in any way for years on end. I mean really, try imagining that. Imagine having food being unexpectedly spilled on you at a gala, and you can’t say anything. Imagine having to work hard setting a banquet up that had taken you months over, only for your supervisor to say that it’s completely wrong, and you can’t say or do anything. Imagine being around those who are spouting out ignorance and arrogance daily, and yet, you can’t say a word. Ever. And if you so much as dared to speak up, ponies will only see you are insane or just an irredeemable idiot not even worth listening to for all time. Even for someone like you, Princess, in my horseshoes, I doubt you even last a week – or for most ponies, a day at most.”

Getting up, I hopped off the bed. “Don’t ask me things about what is wrong; what do I think; what my opinion is; or what do I want – because the fact of the matter is: I simply can’t have one. But you? You are freer than I ever will be.”

I bowed to her, “All I can ask is to forgive me for my unbelievable rudeness in speaking like this. If you’re right, and I’m not fired, then please excuse me, Your Highness, it seems that I need to get back to work.”

Perhaps, coldly, I left the room after that. Went to find a replacement for my uniform and rejoined the staff in the kitchen.

The rest of the day, when I had expected someone from the waiting team to ask me what happened, none came. None. Instead, I had to go to them to ask what they knew. All I got was that after Blueblood told me to get out, Celestia chastised him for behaving so rudely. That it was uncalled for to have him shout at me, and then she asked them where I would be heading to. That was it. Even during dinner time where I awkwardly stood there by the wall while the Princesses dined, nothing about what happened at lunch was ever brought up. In fact, the only time Celestia turned to me for anything was to ask to bring dessert.

But that wasn’t the end. After the meal was cleared away and we were bringing the dishes back to the kitchen, one of Celestia’s butlers stopped me.

“Pardon, but Princess Celestia wishes you not to eat in the kitchen tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” I blinked. Did I hear that right?

“Your evening meal, it’s already been prepared. Please follow me.”

I didn’t know what was going on. Did I upset the Princess? I thought it must have been it given all I said that afternoon.

Obediently, I followed the butler through the halls towards the part of the palace I had never been before to where it led to a spiraling staircase. It was quite a trek upwards towards the top where it led to a pair of doors that displayed the sun on the wood. After a knock, they glowed a familiar yellow before they opened to the one room, I thought I would never see – Celestia’s bed chambers.

I immediately spot her, laying there on a very large bed by the floor next to a hearth. There was a quill in her aura and a pile of paper on one side. Nearby was a small table with a silvery dome on top and a pillow to sit down at. As soon as Celestia looked our way, the butler and I bowed.

“Thank you for bringing him Mr. Gloss, that will be all for now.” After the butler bowed and exited the room, Celestia turned to me. “Are you doing alright, Silver?”

“I uh…” I eyed the table. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“For a late dinner,” she gestured her hoof towards the table. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had the chiefs prepare you soup. It should still be hot if I’m not mistaken.”

Curious, I went over to uncover the silver dome where there was a bread bowl, a frosted glass of sparkling cider in a crystal goblet, and complete with silver wear. I pried the lid of the bread bowl to find it was filled to the brim with loaded baked potato soup.

“Princess,” I said, “Well, thank you for the meal, but what is this for?”

“Firstly, a proper apology for what had happened this afternoon. But there are other things I thought that you should know.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I had a careful look at your work schedule. Everything from your first day to now, and I can’t help but notice something,” she picked up one of the papers from the pile. “Apparently, except for holidays, you’ve never once taken a vacation. In all of the time you’ve worked here, I find it genuinely concerning that you were never given a break.” I didn’t reply, “Is there a reason?”

“I-I just… I wasn’t…” I stumbled over my words.

“No matter.” She scribbled something down. “Next week from now, you will be given a month-long paid vacation by order of me.” She looked up, “So, where do you want to go?”

My jaw hung open. Is this really happening? “Pardon?”

“For a vacation, where would you like to go? I can send you anywhere you want.”

“But… But the kitchen staff-”

“They will survive. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

I plopped down on the pillow. “I uh… I always wanted to see the Fillyppines.”

“Ooh! Excellent choice! It’s lovely this time of year and I think there’s a festival coming up down there. Now next thing I want to tell you is that when you get back from that vacation, you won’t be on the waiting staff any longer.”

“Princess?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not dismissing you. Given your years of experience, I figured it’s time that I have you promoted. You’ve earned it after all, and by your records, you’re past overdue for a raise.”

At this point, I almost expected to wake up from this dream.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Celestia added, “In regard to servant policy and rules, you’ve given some insight into what I had been considering doing. That they should be more up-to-date and focus closely on the well-being of those under the crown’s employ. Meaning that to help me, I would need you and a few other members of the serving staff’s input to improve conditions.”

“Princess… why are you doing this?”

She gave a caring smile, “Because regardless of how you see it, your voice does matter.”