Dust and Sand-By Celestia’s Disciple
His helmet is grimy, again. Sighing he puts it down by the bed stand, and flops onto the bed itself, the dust and sand irritating his skin under his fur.
‘It wasn’t so bad’, he mused. Idly taking off his mostly ceremonial armour, shedding it to the floor with a “Clang!”. His eyelids droop in the candle light, slightly blood shot eyes contained within stare at a familiar ceiling.
There’s a small picture on the bedside table, a photograph of young stallions in shiny gear, smiles wide holding scrolls. Signatures sprawl over the edges of the photograph. Besides that, the room is fairly bare.
There’s a sigh of air, and the stallion rises from the bed to take a bath.
The room is steamy, and warm, the water a luxury earned by work done earlier in the week.
‘They sure know how to put a guardspony to work around here’ Smiling a soft smile, he relaxes, brown fur soaked through, blue on light blue mane free to flop about unceremoniously.
His mind wanders, to a letter he’d received recently. About a changeling queen! Living in canterlot, working as an escort. He didn’t quite believe his friend, but his mate had never been a good liar.
‘I’d never visit, but it’s nice to dream right?’ His smile is bogged down, trying and failing to stay maintained.
He decides to dream instead, popping his head back in the bath, and letting creativity take him whatever way.
~~~~~~~~~~~
There is jazz music playing. He’s sipping some kind of non-alcoholic wine. ‘Does that even exist?’,
She’s there, talking to him about some idle subject, perhaps she’s wearing a red dress? ‘Red’s a nice colour… through what colour is a changeling anyway?’,
She’s a mint green, carapace and wings like the designs shown in training. ‘Through, they can shape-shift right?’,
‘Maybe, she could look like her? Just for him, privately.’ -A cold chill seeps in through the warm water-
They are having sex he decides, dashing that previous thought to the void. He’s alright, and she’s amazing, naturally. ‘Couldn’t let anyone know what kind of first time I’d had through, if I did visit her, and she does exist’,
They are eating snacks afterward, it’s a nice night, and they are talking about blacksmithing. ‘I bet she’s never had that kind of conversation with a client before’
She’s going to commission a piece of metal work from him. ‘Celestia knows I’ve been doing it all day in this town’,
He leaves, his wallet a bit lighter for the time, but his heart warmer for the experience.
~~~~~~~~
He gets out of the bath, the water starting to get cold, and his heart is lighter somehow, his visit to Ember’s successful, despite the distance. Finishing drying up, he gets under the covers, and drifts off to sleep, jazz music playing in his mind. Tomorrow will be dust and sand, but for tonight, he’s having grapes and wine.
Taking a look in the Mirror
It was weird not to feel sand under his hooves, he mused, idly walking down from the train into Canterlot proper.
His armour was stained and scratched, the winds of Appaloosa having taken their toll.
“There ye are laddie!” A shout from his left wheeled the guardspony around to find himself enfolded in a big hug from a large Pegasus. Chatting as they walked down to the old watering hole, they regaled each other with tales of their deployments with their laughter joining the chorus of the lively city.
Big bushy eyebrows waggled at him, “So, meet any nice lasses on the frontier?”
He responded with laughter, “I couldn’t have seen them for all the work everyone needed to do!”
His companion raised a hoof to his thick beard, “Did you get my letter?”
“Yeah, hard to believe through, she really runs an escort service?”
“Aye, a couple of our division have actually stopped by her place, just to check the security of the queen of course, checking for magical bugs, ya know the drill,”
“No way!”
“Oh indeed laddie, straight from Celestia herself, something about foreign dignitaries and keeping them and the city safe,”
He chuckled, that did sound like their sun princess alright. Pausing for a moment, he swirled his glass of berry juice before, “I was thinking about whether it would be good to visit her,”
His companion looked at him silently for a moment, eyes tight and hooves on the table, “You’ve never shown much interest in escorts before laddie,”
“Why would I, it’s dangerous… you never know when you are going to get blackmailed, and the sun forbid word gets out that you used an escort,”
His companion hummed, reaching up to stroke his beard, closing one eye while looking upward.
“Being a guardspony is dangerous work, you never know when one day Tirek or some other nasty gets free and we’ll be the first to fall,”
“I know what I signed up for,”
“Do you laddie? Do you know what you look like?” waving at a mirror, his companion gestured him to look.
Bloodshot eyes stared back underlined by bags, his brown coat dry and clumping up in places where the armour didn’t cover it.
“You,” his companion stated, leaning back into his chair, “Look like you’ve been working all day and all night and never stopped to take care of yourself. Yes, escorting can end poorly, but you and I both know we rarely have the time to make friends, let alone anything more then that on deployment. What harm is there in supporting the local economy and using some of those bits we’ve earned?”
He stared into his drink, the dark juice providing no answers to his conundrum. “I don’t want my first time to be bought mate. I’m more then capable of doing both my job and findi-“
“Oh it’s not your capabilities I doubt laddie, but your perceptions! I know you want to find someone who you love and who loves you etc before your first time…” His companion paused, having got up from his seat in his interruption. Laying his hooves on the table he spoke softly “I just wonder if maybe you’re in the wrong job for the kind of pony you are.”
On his way back to the barracks, he found himself at the crossroads near the main marketplace. The barracks was north from here, his family a train ride west, his old blacksmith workplace east deeper into the city. Somewhere south was Ember’s location, and he recalled his dreams of grapes and wine.
Making a choice, he moved forward, unsure if he had chosen well, but determined to see it through regardless.
