Headcanons of a Palace Guard
Well, to start with, I’m a royal guard at the Canterlot Palace. Nifty, huh?
I kinda wish there was more to do around here, though. The place is empty a lot of the time, so on the slowest days, even my own thoughts echo. The busiest days usually involve an entourage of some kind, but I never see them stay long. And it’s not like I can go with them. That’s the personal guard of the Princesses themselves. Me, I’m just a palace guard.
It has its perks, you know. Not a lot of ponies know it, but the palace has dozens of mares that serve as the Princesses’ hoof-maidens. Ladies-in-waiting, that kind of thing. Nice little bodies, too. Every now and then, I like to sneak a peek at some cute little piece of plot....
What? Like I said, the job has its perks.
But because it gets so empty around here, I don’t see them very often. They’re usually hanging around in the Princesses’ chambers, or the bathrooms, or somewhere else private—no stallions allowed, if you catch my drift.
Not like it matters anyway. I’m just a palace guard.
So, if you’re still paying attention, you must be bored enough to be curious as to what I do around here. It’s pretty simple. I stand.
Yep, that’s it.
I stand in the morning, when Celestia goes to wake up the sun. I stand in the evening, when Luna goes to bring up the moon. I stand in the throne room, halting the progress of any suspicious-looking ponies or any other undesirables. I stand outside the entrance, watching the well-to-do of Canterlot coming and going, pretty much easily predicting that none of them will be invading the palace today.
Well don’t get mad at me! You’re the one who stuck around to be bored to death!
Speaking of which, you can pretty much bet that there’s no fun in standing around watching ponies walk by. They’re off doing better, more interesting jobs, and I’m standing around all day in heavy armor, my withers aching and my legs getting stiffer every minute. The occasional hottie in a dress and heels catches my eye, but moving from position is frowned upon in my line of work. Yeah, it really is that way with the palace guards. I swear, if one more foal draws graffiti on my armor....
Meh. Anyway, I get no humor in watching these stuck-up rich cretins trotting through town like their hooves were made of glass, staring down the lengths of their noses on servant ponies like me—the “help”, as it were. So, when it comes to watching these ritzy ponies coming and going throughout my day, I make my own humor. After all, standing around doing nothing and catching the occasional hot mare in my sights is about the lousiest (if the cushiest) job in the world.
Take that stallion for instance. Yeah, the white one in the suit and the monocle. Evidently, the suit didn’t come with pants, so I make believe he lost them. That’s why he’s out combing the streets with his monocle. “Honey, where are my paaaaaaaaaants?!”
Then there’s the fox walking with him on some days. Most ponies, I couldn’t care less about their names, but you’d have to be living in a cave to not recognize the body of Fleur-de-Lis when you see it. Now there’s a nice piece of plot! There’s a big poster of her up in the foyer of the guards’ quarters, one of her sultrier, steamier photo spreads in Prance. Nice! But that’s nothing compared to the sexy spread up on the wall of my bunk. The ponies in Borronco make some scanty swimsuits....
Yeah, yeah, I know. Rich, gorgeous models don’t date “the help”. I get the picture. I’m just a palace guard. Anyway, she’s dating the Pantless Pumpernickel. My theory: well, he’s not wearing pants. You figure it out.
There’s a window washer who occasionally does the buildings across the street from the palace. Goofball with a huge overbite. Yeah, that guy. Looks like some bumpkin from Apple-oosa. My guess is, he came here expecting to take the town by storm with some fantastic business venture, but it failed and he ended up begging for bits washing windows. Makes sense to me, anyway—the guy doesn’t exactly look like a finance juggernaut.
But at least he goes home every now and then. So, he’s got at least two cities visited under his belt. As opposed to my one....
And then there’s the fun part of my job: the visitors. Every now and then, the same six ponies will drop by to visit Princess Celestia. Why? Who knows? I think one of them’s a student of hers. Special privileges and such. I expect she moved to that rinky-dink town in the boonies—Ponyville, I think—for some kind of study program. At first, I thought, “Study program in B.F.E.? Poor kid might just be as bored as I am out there. To get stuck in a dead-end town like that, she must be a C student at best.”
Then all Tartarus started to break loose. Two of history’s biggest baddies, Nightmare Moon and Discord, came back after she moved there. This weirdo unicorn chick has been involved in two end-of-the-world scenarios already!
If this is any indication of the rest of her track record, I doubt she’ll move up very high in life.
But then, who am I to talk? I’m just a palace guard.
Her friends are pretty hard to come up with stories for, but I damn well thought of them. First one I noticed, obviously, was the white unicorn babe. That one could give Fleur a run for her bits! Loving those sexy blue eyes! But I bet she’s got enough admirers back home. A body like that must rake in dozens of stallions a day.
Or at least have one poor braindead soul come lumbering back, deluded into think he’s got a shot. I feel sorry for that poor sucker.
The blue pegasus chick? Waaay too butch to be a stallion magnet. So’s the orange one, to be honest. I’m guessing they’re dating. Fine by me. Don’t bother my ass none. Somepony’s gotta get some around here, if it ain’t me.
The pink one? Total screw loose. Loony bin escapee. I’d bet my wings on it.
The yellow girl doesn’t seem all that chatty. Cute, though. I’d like to bet she’s one of those repressed girls. Timid at first, but after a few dates, a real animal in the sack.
What? Yeah, I get it, mares are all I think about. What do you want? I’m just a palace guard!
Coming and going the way they do, I gotta wonder what it is they always want from the Princess. Can’t be extra tutoring sessions if bookworm brings her friends all the time. Unless they’re not...really....
Ooooh, myyyyy....
Ahh, well. It’s a poetic note. But I’m more willing to bet they’re coming to her for advice on killing supervillains. We’ve had to put up with at least two so far (three, I’m told; some psycho Changeling broad taking over the city, would’ve caught the action if I hadn’t had to take time off work to take care of my sick mom, Faust bless her). Seems like all the action goes on around that purple one. Makes me wonder what she’s seen. All the cool stuff she must be doing. All the adventures she goes on....
What’s that? Why am I interested? Uh, hello? Palace guard!
That’s pretty much the highlight of my day. Standing around thinking about what that lavender unicorn (ugh, even I know that sounds stupid—purple pony, that’s more like it) and her pals get themselves into. What they do all day. Maybe what they’re really like.
Oh, come on, you didn’t think I actually believed that schmuck was always walking around looking for his pants, did you?!
Yeah, at the very least, Purple Girl leads a pretty interesting life. I catch myself thinking about it every day. The kind of life ponies lead outside of this dry old palace. Outside of Canterlot and its snotty rich folk. Maybe even outside of Equestria.
So, when Purple Girl and her friends take off, I get a lot more than just a nice view from behind as they walk out (although the white one does have that nice tush). I get a feeling they’re up to something cool, or are about to be. Gets to be, most every time I see them go, I imagine what they’re about to do to make Equestrian history. Makes me take a break from making up stories about Joe Six-Pack on the street and go right to making up stories about what those six ponies do when I’m not there. Those are more fun. More exciting. And they last a lot longer than some bumpkin and a bad investment.
I see them go, and I think....
“Take me with you....”
Bleh. It can’t be helped. I may be bored out of my skull, but I’m here. And as long as I’m stuck here, I gotta work for a living, don’t I?
I’ll write those stories down when I get some time off. Right now, I’m a palace guard.
Back to work....
