Stand Ready

by JMac

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Original Character, Bat Pony, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3345

An old soldier must deal with the tragic end of his career.

Sergeant Brick Wall devoted his whole life to training Princess Luna's honor guard, even though the Princess wasn't there. It takes loyalty to wait a lifetime for somepony who may never come.

Published 2013-11-01 00:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-01 00:00:02 UTC

Stand Ready

Stand Ready

“Tell the story about the bat pony soldiers, Mommy!” cried Star Skipper. “Luna’s Onlies!”

“Can I tell it tonight, Mommy?” begged Morning Glory. “Please!”

Sergeant Brick Wall listened from the hallway. His wife always chased him out of the children’s bedroom after he kissed them goodnight. Brick had a tendency to want to play with the children, and they would never settle down if he stayed. This was made worse by the fact that Brick worked days, which meant he was wide awake when it was time for the children to go to sleep. But Brick still loved to listen to the bedtime stories, and the tale the children were asking for happened to also be his favorite.

Comet Moth smiled indulgently at her foals. “You both know that’s not a fairy story, even though we tell it to our children?”

“Yes, Mommy. It’s part of our… our…” Morning Glory struggled to remember the phrase she wanted. “Our oral history! If I’m ever going to teach this I need to learn how to tell it. It’s important. Please, Mommy?”

Comet suppressed a laugh. Little Glory had already gotten it into her head that she was going to be a teacher, and she could not be convinced otherwise. Glory was so adorable about it that even her father, who had his heart set on the children following him into the military, accepted it with good grace. “Very well. Go ahead, Glo.”

Glory sat up straight and cleared her throat. Affecting her most serious tone, she began. “This is the story of the Third Guards Regiment, who are also called ‘Princess Luna’s Own.’ That’s the proper way to say it, Skipper.”

“’Princess Luna’s Own,’” her little brother repeated. He wanted to get it right next time.

“It was long ago,” Glory continued. “A monster had poisoned the mind of Princess Celestia’s little sister, Princess Luna, and turned her into a nightmare. Princess Celestia had to banish Luna to the moon to protect Equestria from her. The Princess didn’t want to, but it was the only way to defeat the nightmare without completely destroying her sister.

“There was a prophecy that the nightmare would escape in a thousand years, and when she returned Princess Luna would be set free. Princess Celestia knew that she would be very lonely, but she waited.

“Just in case the prophecy was wrong and her sister came home sooner, Princess Celestia kept everything ready for her. It just wouldn’t do if Princess Luna suddenly showed up and her room wasn’t made. She even kept Princess Luna’s honor guard. This was made up of thestrals, because bat ponies like us were Princess Luna’s favorites. This is the Third Guards Regiment.

“The Third Regiment stood ready, always ready. They trained, and drilled, and practiced, just in case Princess Luna came home. And they continued to stand ready, for almost a thousand years and fifty generations of bat ponies.

“Other ponies laughed and jeered. They made mean jokes about the honor guard without a princess. They said it was crazy to wait for a princess who most ponies thought was just an old mare’s tale anyway. In time, most ponies forgot all about Princess Luna altogether. And they forgot about the Third Regiment, too. That didn’t matter to the bat ponies who were part of the Third. They just carried on, and did their duty. Today they still stand ready, just in case Princess Luna comes home tomorrow.”

Glory stopped here, and would have asked her mother how she had done with the tale, but Skipper interrupted. “That’s not how it ends, is it, Mommy?”

“No, Dear,” said Comet. “The story isn’t over yet. It isn’t just history, it’s part of our lives. Luna’s Own is still ready and waiting for the princess.”

“Is it Daddy’s story, too?”

“Yes, Skipper, yes it is,” said Comet. “Your Daddy is the Training Master for the Third.”

“Has it really been a thousand years?”

“We don’t really know, Skipper,” answered Glory. “Right, Mommy?”

“That’s right. The exact date may be written down in an old book somewhere, but we never kept track. That’s the way soldiers like your Daddy want it. It’s better to carry on as if Princess Luna will be home tomorrow. If they could see the day on a calendar the troops might slack off.”

“Wow,” gasped Skipper. “Imagine if something went wrong, and after waiting and waiting like that, when the Princess came home, a pony missed it. Wouldn’t that be sad?”

“Yes, Darling. That’s the most tragic thing I can imagine.”

It was the slow time between meals, and there were only five ponies in the Crossed Pikes Inn. Three young privates, all thestral mares, occupied one table. They were clearly excited about their new assignments, and were so engrossed in their conversation that their breakfast went untouched.

At the bar, a lone unicorn lieutenant divided his attention between his dinner and his notebook, and politely tried not to eavesdrop on the young soldiers. At the far corner of the bar an older thestral stallion nursed a mug of cider.

Four more young unicorns burst through the front door, and didn’t even try to keep it from slamming as they blustered in. “Barkeep! A round of your best!” shouted the lead unicorn, before they were even halfway across the room. He casually indicated the unicorn at the bar. “Oh, and I suppose you should also refill Lieutenant Manners’ mug as well.”

“Thank you, no, Piercing, I’m quite happy with what I have.” Lt. Proper Manners III had not been looking for company that evening, least of all the company of Lt. Piercing Gaze. Naturally, the new arrivals joined him at the bar without asking.

The three privates snapped to attention and saluted the officers. The salute was not returned. Rather, Lt. Gaze waved dismissively at them and muttered, “Oh, at ease, you lot.”

Lt. Manners bristled at this rudeness, but said nothing. The guards went uncertainly back to their breakfast.

“So, Manners, are you starting a harem?”

“No, Piercing.” Manners half hoped that he managed to keep his obvious distaste out of his tone, and half hoped that he failed. “I have not actually made these young mares’ acquaintance. They are enjoying a private conversation, and I wouldn’t dream of intruding.”

Lt. Gaze did not take the hint. “Mares? Why, you’re little more than fillies, aren’t you, girls? So, you are still excited about your decision to join the Guard?”

One answered for them. “Sir, yes, very much. These are exciting times to be part of the Service, for us. Princess Luna has returned, Sir.”

Lt. Gaze snorted. “I suppose you all want to be Loonies, then?”

She was taken aback by the derogatory term, but the private still managed to stammer out an answer. An officer had asked her a question, after all. “Sir, yes, we all hope to join the Third Regiment after AIT, Sir.”

Lt. Gaze let out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a shame, really, that the Third is comprised entirely of bat ponies. Princess Luna’s honor guard is made up entirely of commoners.”

“That is out of line, Lieutenant Gaze!”

“Oh, shut up, Manners. I’m not expressing any prejudice against these poor girls’ breed. I am merely commenting on their lack of breeding. The bat ponies do not have a drop of noble blood in their entire low born race, after all.”

“Let me save you some time.”

Nopony had noticed the old stallion move from his place in the corner. Now he was standing right next to Gaze. That he moved so swiftly and quietly was particularly surprising as his right rear leg was a wooden prosthetic.

All that Gaze took from this was that he was being interrupted and he didn’t like it. “What do you want, you old fool?”

“Here’s the thing,” drawled the old stallion, casually. His low, rumbling voice held not even a hint of menace. “You’re a bully, and you’re spoiling for a fight. You think getting one of these gals cashiered for assaulting an officer would be a bonus. So, you mean to goad them until one of them takes a poke at you. Unfortunately, they probably have the good horse sense not to rise to your bait, so you’re going to go on and on. I don’t have the patience to listen to you. So, let’s skip all that. If you really want a fight, try somepony without a career to lose. I’m game.”

“Are you mad, old bat?” exclaimed Gaze.

“Nope, just sick of you.” He was short for a stallion, a full head shorter than Gaze, but very broad at the shoulders. Despite the grey hairs that were shot through his brick red coat it was impossible to guess his exact age. “We could forget this if you’ll just agree to shut up.”

“Sir, please, there’s no need for this!” The three alarmed mares rushed to the old stallion’s side, intent on dragging him out of the conflict.

“Stand down, girls,” said Lt. Manners. He wasn’t even trying not to laugh. “And pay close attention. You shall never have an educational opportunity such as this ever again.”

“Brick, are you sure you want to do this?” asked the bartender. He sounded tired.

“Yeah, I think so, Shiner. You know I’m good for anything that gets broken.” The old stallion turned to Lt. Gaze. “Let me have the first hit, and you get to say I started it. How about it, Snotnose?”

“Very well, old bat, take your best shot!”

A fraction of a second later it was over.

“Excellent!” cheered Manners. “See, girls, a perfectly executed one-two combination. In this case the ‘two’ might have been redundant. Anyway, young ponies all want to turn and buck, forgetting how effective their forelegs are.”

Gaze’s three friends stared at the old stallion; then down at Gaze, lying twitching on the floor; then back at the old stallion. “What do we do now?”

“You get him to the infirmary,” answered Manners. “And I advise you to make something up about how he was jumped by a squad of local ruffians. This will save Piercing the embarrassment of admitting what really happened, and it will save me the trouble of reporting his conduct unbecoming an officer.”

As the three tried to rouse their companion enough so they could stagger out with him, Manners took Gaze’s untouched mug, and used it to salute the old stallion. “First Sergeant Brick Wall, Sir, it is an honor to meet you.”

“It’s ‘Mr. Wall’ now. But you can call me Brick, Lieutenant.”

“I’m glad those kids had to report for duty,” grumbled Brick. “Or they would have never left. How many times did they have to thank me, anyway?”

“The girls were grateful, and I feel they have every right to show their gratitude,” said Manners. “It shouldn’t offend you. Also, they were embarrassed that they didn’t recognize you.”

“No reason they should,” said Brick. “It’s not like I’m a legend or anything.”

“Yes you are! You’re First Sergeant Brick ‘Nopony Passes Unless I Let ‘Em’ Wall! You probably trained their grandparents.”

Brick grunted and shook his head. This was his only response.

Manners walk home with Brick, through Canterlot’s Leather Wing district, where most of the city’s thestrals lived. It might have been any other middle class neighborhood. That the yards were crowded with fruit trees was the major difference. Adults ran errands or worked on their homes, and children played in yards and the more rambunctious games spilled into the street.

Of course all of this activity occurred in the middle of the night.

“If you don’t mind, would you tell me about your accident, Brick?”

The old soldier shrugged. “What’s to tell? I was hit by a runaway cart.”

“I believe you are leaving some details out. There was a foal in the street in front of that cart.”

“Fine, I pushed a kid out of the way. Do me a favor and don’t make a big deal out of it. Anyway, if you’ve already heard this then why are you asking?”

“Just tell the story, Brick.”

Brick shrugged again. “The story ends there. I woke up in the hospital a couple weeks later with a shiny new leg.”

“Your accident happened on the day before the thousandth longest day of summer.”

“Yeah.” Brick was quiet for a long time. Finally, he continued. “My Princess came home, and I slept through the whole thing. I admit it, that was disappointing.”

Manners found this understatement shocking. “Has nopony done anything to honor you?”

“I got the medal for Meritorious Service. I found it on my nightstand, along with my medical discharge papers.”

“Yes, about that. After your head injury, don’t you think you should be staying out of bar fights?”

“I’m fine. The steel plate is almost as hard as the skull bone it replaces.” Brick chuckled. “Not that I would want anything about tonight getting back to my kids. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Does it disappoint you that your children didn’t join the Third Regiment?”

Brick laughed. “My kids aren’t capable of disappointing me, Manners. Skipper’s top of his class at the Mustang Springs Flight Academy, out in Colorodeo. He’ll be the first thestral in the Wonderbolts someday. Glory teaches history at the University of Manehattan, she’ll be the first thestral with a full professorship soon enough. If you suggest that I should be disappointed ever again I will smack you a good one, Manners.”

The two new friends stopped and laughed. “Would you believe I knew your daughter, Brick? Miss Morning Glory was my social studies instructor.”

“Really! That was her first student teaching job. She was the youngest instructor ever at Princess Celestia’s Academy. She was still a teenager.”

“I remember her quite fondly.”

“Oh, that’s just rich! Did you have a crush on my little girl, Manners?”

“Brick, please, it was middle school. We all had crushes on at least one of our teachers.” Manners turned away, but he failed to hide his blush.

They walked on in silence for a bit, before Manners found something else to talk about. “You never lead the honor guard yourself, did you Brick?”

“Nope. Wrong coat color. Tradition calls for Princess Luna’s escort to be of a uniform dark coat. You may have notice, we’re big on tradition. No, I trained them, and I’m satisfied with that, mostly.”

“You know, we could have saved ourselves a bit of bother if we had just paid attention to your bat pony oral history. That trouble down in Ponyville, for instance.”

“Nah.” Brick shook his head. “We were never specific enough to be any help. We forgot little details, like ‘when.’ No, what happened was the way things were supposed to happen. Our Princess is home now, so it all worked out."

They came to a modest home on a corner lot. “Well, this is me. Thank you for the company, Manners.”

“The house is dark.”

“Sure. I’m the only pony who lives here. I told you the kids had move away. And my wife passed on a few years ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I spent most of my career working days, and I haven’t gotten used to being nocturnal again yet. I need to hit the hay.”

“Of course, Brick. Good night. I will see you again.”

“I thank you for receiving me, Princess Luna.”

“Not at all, Lieutenant Manners. What you wish to discuss is a matter that I am aware of and that troubles me.”

“You know of First Sergeant Wall, then?”

“Of course. He is my most loyal citizen. It pains me that we have never met, at least not exactly.” Princess Luna began to pace. “There was a reception for veterans of the Third Regiment. Sergeant Wall did not attend, though I made doubly sure that he received an invitation. I spoke to many of his associates, and they thought that was very like him. He dislikes attention, does not know how to take a compliment, and receives gratitude politely but dismissively. How do I honor such a pony?”

“Something should be done for him, Princess.” Manners had hoped she would have her own ideas about what to do. It was frustrating to find her as lost as he was. “New recruits do not recognize him. Soon he will be forgotten altogether.”

“What can I do? He won’t sit for a portrait. The very thought would mortify him. He wouldn’t even accept a brass plaque on the parade grounds.” Princess Luna wandered over to a window a stared out, but she wasn’t looking at anything. She continued, more to herself than to Manners. “I did give him the Meritorious Service Medal. I was unaware that he was still in a coma when I went to Sergeant Wall’s room. I should have saved it for him; it should have been awarded with some ceremony. But I was thoughtless. I merely left it for him beside his bed. I don’t think he is aware I was ever there.”

An idea occurred to Manners. “Actually, Princess, I can think of one thing First Sargent Wall might appreciate.”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” grumbled Brick, not for the first time.

“What?” said Manners, walking beside him. “You never miss graduation. Perfectly dressed lines of young recruits, marching in perfect step… you love this.”

“Yes, but I always go in civvies. I haven’t been in uniform since I retired.”

“A veteran is permitted to attend in uniform. Be a good sport. You don’t always have to sit in the back and hope nopony notices you.”

“Hay, where are we going? This isn’t the way to base.”

“No, this is the way to Manners Manor. I have guests and we are meeting them.”

“This will make us late!” Nopony appreciated punctuality as Brick did.

“Oh, I think they will wait for us.”

They rounded a corner, and there in the street before the Manners family home was Princess Luna’s ceremonial chariot. It sat unattended; there were no guards in the harness.

“What the hay is… what the…!” Brick suddenly found a pair of hooves over his eyes.

“Guess who!”

“Glory?” Brick spun around to embrace his daughter, and found his son standing next to her. “Skipper? What are you doing here? How did you get away?”

“They are answering a royal summons.” Princess Luna strode down the walk from the Manor’s door. “I requested their presence. Cadet Star Skipper’s commandant and Professor Morning Glory’s department head were most accommodating.”

All the ponies bowed. “Please, rise, all of you. First Sergeant Wall, I have a dilemma. I have dismissed my honor guard, yet I must hurry to the parade grounds to review the new graduating class of recruits. I shall require two volunteers to take my chariot out. Will you and your son do me this favor?”

“Me?” The unflappable old soldier looked ready to faint.

“You. I can think of no pony I would prefer do the job.” Luna took her place in her chariot. “And I do not care at all what color your coat is.”

“This is how traditions begin,” Professor Morning Glory addressed her class. “All old traditions begin as new traditions. Ten years ago it would be out of the question for any of Princess Luna’s honor guard to have anything but a blue-black coat. Today, it’s unthinkable for anypony but an honored veteran of the Third Regiment to lead the ceremonial chariot when reviewing troops.”

“Professor, is it still your father in the lead?” asked a student.

Glory shook her head. “No, he still is invited, but he declined after the second time. He says he wants other worthy ponies to have their chance. Mind you, once his grandchildren are old enough to appreciate it, I believe he’ll take another turn just to show off for them. If there are no more questions then class dismissed.”