Author's Note

Lieutenant Saphire’s POV

Lieutenant Saphire’s Treat: 3

Emerald had just left him at his home as I arrived. Once I reached his door, I gave it a firm knock, letting him know I was at his door. I hear his steps as he walks to the door.

“Hi, I am Saphire!” I introduced myself.

“Hi, Saphire. Our gracious Queen sent you?” I responded.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I take it you haven’t had a proper meal since you arrived?” I put forth.

“Since you mentioned it, no, I haven’t had anything to eat since I left the orphanage!” he confessed.

“I will be your guide, for all things related to food. If it is anything, please don’t hesitate, just ask me. Let’s be off, so I can show you the Salad’s Bar. It is most delicious, if I can say so myself!” I offered.

“That sounds good to me. I take it you will be available, most of the day? I can’t make you insist. Please, lead the way!” he merely responded, following me out of the small room.

“Right this way, it isn’t all that far!” I offered.

He merely stopped a moment in order to close the door behind himself as we left his quarters. Well, I guess it isn’t much more than a cell, really. That is in the distinction. There is no lock on his door, on either side, there is no need.

“I like it here, this far. It was just never what I had dared to dream of, regardless of what I had been told. I had expected to live in a bachelor’s Home for several years, before I could afford a real home and find a Mare to spend my life with!” he spoke in a rather uncertain tone, smiling to himself.

“It is good to be wary of what sounds too good to be true. It is proven more times then not, to be the case!” I responded.

“I thought as much. That is something else our teacher at the orphanage explained to us. Though I kind of found it strange, since there were no fillies at the place!” he pondered.

“You have already seen your new home. You will find your job, soon enough. I know, even if that is out of my hands. Unless it is related to cooking, I guess. I work in the food department, so it just may be close enough for me!” I pondered.

“I guess I am more hungry than I thought, sorry if I don’t act more excited over the situation here!” he added.

“Maybe the Salad’s Bar is something for you? If so, here we are!” I responded as I pushed the door in, allowing him entrance as I followed him into the room.

“Salad is fine. So long as it is something I can eat. You don’t get too picky, if you live at an orphanage, you know. Even if I think the teacher was nice!” he continued.

“Then salad it is. Just pick a bowl and fill it, then we can enjoy a good meal. This is a buffet, you just fill up what you can eat. There isn’t any Pony counting the beans here!” I pointed out.

“A buffet, I know the word, but I never had one. Bean counters, I know of these. This does look delicious!” he responded as he picked a bowl, then went to the buffet and filled up with various vegetables, before he found a place at a small table.

I picked a bowl of my own, slowly filled it with an assortment of vegetables, before I sat down beside him. I wanted to sit close to him in order to get the best connection with him, partially, due to the small detail, aside from his comfort, it did give me a something a little extra.

“This bar is always open. Something you may like to remember, any time you are hungry, or just feel like having a light snack!” I suggested in a more seductive tone, smiling warmly at him.

For a long moment, we just ate in silence. There was not a word exchanged and not a sound was heard. He was hungry, so I didn’t feel like intruding, not too early at least. I can’t say I didn’t have the appetite for a salad, either, naturally.

“These Daisies and Clover are great. I didn’t realise just how good they were, before I had the chance to taste them in a freshly mixed salad!” he pointed out.

“We pride ourselves in serving only the best. The effort is always worth it. You can’t really compare a prepackaged or premixed salad with one that was mixed just in time for you to enjoy it. Some vegetables doesn’t quite agree with one another, you know. I know our chef is happy to hear!” I responded.

“Pride is never good, but you need something to stand for. For a chef, is there any higher purpose or goal, than to prepare the most delicious and nutritious meal to any and every Pony he or she is serving?” he suggested.

“That is why we have chefs, or every Pony would have to deal with these things on their own. The chef loves her job, just as she has experience and training to make the most out of what we have, in order to prepare the best meal each and every time!” I pointed out.

“Sounds just about right. Allowes for every Pony to focus on what he or she is best at and enjoys the most, doing. I certainly do enjoy a good salad, but does that mean I have to love to prepare it, or being good at doing it?” he pondered quietly.

“I certainly am no chef, I’m not good at preparing a meal, but I still do enjoy a good salad. I guess I am more of the Ponies individual. I love to be social and help others. Is there a better time or place than by the meal, if you are enjoying to be social?” I enquired.

“I certainly do love Ponies like you. I would be lost and alone, otherwise. Some other Pony, just like you will be assigned to find me a job, one of these days, too!” he pointed out.

“Always love to hear you saying that, even if any other could say it and make me just as happy. Yes, there will be another Pony, helping you find your special job, something you are good at and can take justified pride in doing. I know there are other social Ponies here, just waiting to see and help you with something they are good at!” I suggested, winking at him.