Welcome to the Service

Private Spit Shine groaned, peeled himself off the floor, and made his way to a locker where he'd spotted a mare with the colors and habits of an old friend. In the packed space of the Canterlot Castle Armory, unofficially known as the changing room, ponies drifted around him and compensated for his failure to weave through their coordinated dance of hooves, armor, and frocks. It was only Shine's second day of work after his promotion to Princess Celestia's prestigious Day Guard, and the second in a row he'd been trampled while getting ready for his watch.

“Gleaming Shield?” Spit Shine said, looking down at the diminutive maid next to him. She smiled, nodded, and returned to the task of getting into her uniform with all the solemn, silent seriousness he had always known her for. Though they had been apart for the twenty moons it took the stallion to catch up with his friend’s career, there was no doubt about it—that maid was still Gleaming Shield on the inside. Spit Shine cleared his throat.

"Hey. Gleams," he said. She paused, giving him an inquisitive look, and he continued. "Why are you still here?"

Gleaming shrugged and stuck her frilly headband on, giving it a light tap and fussing over its position without actually changing anything—exactly like she'd always done with helmets in the city watch back home.

"Seriously. Are you just stuck like that, or what?" Shine asked. Gleaming gave him a puzzled look, and he gestured at her in a way he hoped was vague enough. "Like, do you go home to your wife like this? Or—" the maid shook her head, so Shine fired off his other idea "—does the Princess have to change you twice a day, every single day you work?"

Gleaming sighed, and turned to tying her apron into place.

"Why do you put up with that?" Shine blurted. How could she be so casual about something so important? "Why won't you talk about it?" No, he thought, dumb question. It was pretty hard to get her to say much before, too.

"Why won't you do something about this? Sure, it's one kind of special treatment, I guess—" Spit Shine cut himself off when Gleams' expression turned to pure confusion. "What?"

Gleaming sighed again, and spoke for the first time that week.

"Husband." Her voice was even softer, and her speech more understated, than when she had been a stallion.

"What?"

"I go home to my husband like this." Gleaming floated a long ribbon over to secure her apron under her midsection so that it wouldn't drag, like the conversation was already over.

"Why?!"

"I don't like talking.” Gleaming closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

"This is important!"

Gleaming Shield finally stopped getting dressed, sighed, and turned to face Spit Shine. "He's a wonderful pony. I love him."

"What?" Shine said, blinking. A flat look in response said you heard me louder than the mare’s voice would have. The guard shook his head clear. "No no, you're my friend, that’s not what I mean! I mean, well—"

He gestured at her again. She looked down at her hooves, then over her shoulder, then back at him.

"Why do you just go along with being a maid?" Shine said. Gleaming grimaced, closed her eyes, and placed a hoof at the front of her chest.

"I, Gleaming Shield, do solemnly swear upon my life and honor—" she recited.

"What," said Shine.

"—to uphold the laws of Equestria and submit myself to the lawful authority of the Crown above all others. Henceforth shall I obey my superiors in good faith, and to any pony under my command give orders which grant them to retain the respect and dignity they, as fellow ponies and servitors to the Crown, inherently possess—"

Shine frowned. He’d said the same words himself at the promotion ceremony last week, but how was the traditional Guardsmare’s Oath supposed to explain anything? It was clearly important, since he'd never gotten so many words out of her in a single conversation before, but what did it mean?

"—and henceforth shall I hold the word and executive actions of the Crown as my highest law." Gleaming opened her eyes, looking straight into her friend’s. "So I swear."

"So, what?" Spit Shine said. "Celestia said so, and you're just... fine with it?"

Gleaming put her hoof down, glanced over her shoulder, and floated her half-boots off their shelf.

"You're a mare."

The maid shrugged.

"What, are you just fine with that too?"

Gleaming looked at Spit Shine in confusion, losing track of which hoof was going into which boot until she had two boots on one leg. She shook both of them off and started over.

"Doesn't it feel unnatural?" the stallion asked.

Gleaming’s eyes went wide, and she dropped into a deep court curtsy. A cold stone formed in Spit Shine’s belly.

"Do you ever wonder, Private Shine?" A new voice, feminine and melodious, joined the conversation. It was ever so slightly teasing, and not as slightly mad.

"Princess!" Spit Shine unfroze himself, following his friend’s motion with a belated turn and bow of his own. When had Princess Celestia gotten here? Where had everypony else gone? How much had she heard?

"Why do ponies call this a changing room, when all you do here is get dressed?" Celestia raised one hoof to her lower lip in faux-contemplation. Then she dropped it back to the floor and smiled down at the guard and maid. "Would you like me to explain, Private?"

Sensing a trap, Shine couldn't just spit out one answer or the other. He looked over at Gleaming, but she only gave him a warning glance. So what was the correct response? What was the trap?

Oh.

"Your Highness, I—"

"Splendid!" Celestia said, clapping her front hooves together. "The ayes have it! But you know, a bow isn't the best look on you. I should trade it in, if I were you."

Spit Shine grimaced, but that only brightened the smile on Celestia's face.

"For a ribbon."

The Princess's horn glowed. The world around Shine grew, and he shut his eyes to fight off a sudden motion sickness. As the changes progressed, he still felt the warmth of Celestia's magic flow throughout his body, softening everything as it went. His armor likewise turned supple and light around him. It was still there, soft and light and more breathable than metal. It was everything he had wished for while sweating in the sun under his heavy gold-leafed brass—for none of the right reasons.

The magic dissipated, and Shine's ears turned towards the distinct popping sound of a teleport.

Gleaming murmured softly, akin to cooing, forming no words. To Shine the sound was delicate, soft, comforting, and he was glad for it. But he couldn't stop shaking.

"Sorry." Gleaming Shield rubbed a hoof gently between her friend’s narrowed shoulders. "First time’s rough."

"The—H-how many?" Shine said. He couldn't get around stammering. He never stammered. What was wrong now?

"Seventeen," said Gleam. She touched the right side of her lower jaw, a gesture scarily similar to Celestia’s. "Eighteen. Princess Luna turned me to stone for not reacting to pranks."

"What?!"

"Nopony noticed for three moons." She smiled and slipped her last boot on. "Better than Philomena’s body-swap."

"Okay, I did think it was w-weird when you kept setting yourself on fire, b-but—"

"Shiny, worry for what you can change," Gleam said, a rasping edge creeping into her voice. "Being a mare is okay. Even the Princesses do it."

"It's not okay for m-me. I don't feel right. I d-don't even sound right!"

Gleaming Shield sighed and patted her friend's shoulders again. "Your name. You didn’t have long."

"Two days?!"

"Yes. But, sorry. My voice is tired. We’re late." With a little hup, Gleaming got up and trotted over to the exit.

"Will she t-turn me back if I resign?" Shine asked. Remembering the Princess's reputation brought up another question, one that was much worse. "W-will she even remember?" From the doorway, Gleaming Shield shrugged and gave her friend an unconvincing smile.

"Welcome to the service."