In which Flash Sentry loses his job
“-And believe me, this is the absolute last time I deign to grace one of Fancy Pants’s charity events with my presence!”
The weighty wooden doors of the palace chambers almost flew off their beautifully gold-inlaid hinges as Prince Blueblood stormed through them. He tore off his bow-tie with one swift, magical movement, before collapsing weightily into the royal bedsheets.
“Sorry for mentioning it, but I feel like I remember you saying something similar last time you attended one of his parties. And the time before that, as well.”
Personal Royal Guard Flash Sentry followed in his liege’s wake, pausing briefly to check that the door was still intact before he closed it behind the two of them. He locked it, before moving over to the windows, giving them a preliminary check, sweeping once over the bed, the door to the en-suite bathroom, and the curtains. Then, and only then, did he remove his blue-plumed helmet, breathing a sigh of relief as he placed it on the floor.
“Is that right?” Blueblood snarked from his position on the bed. “Well, all the more reason why I shall not be attending any more. Stop faffing around and draw me a bath already, would you?”
Flash Sentry rapped a hoof on the stone floor before snapping it into a salute. “At once, Sir. In the future, I will remember to abandon the oath I swore to vigilantly protect you from harm and secure you from external threats in favour of hastening your bath time. Would you like hot or cold water?”
“Hot, you imbecile,” Blueblood hissed. “And you do overreact, guard. There are no threats. I am perfectly safe in my own bedchambers, with or without your help. Equestria loves me, and its enemies fear me. I have nothing to be afraid of. Oh, remember to make up a separate basin of chilled water, so I can rinse my face.”
“Perfectly safe huh? What about last month? The incident involving your pillowcase, that very expensive Eau de Parfum, and that angry griffon lady? If I hadn't been there-”
“I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to hear that discussed within my vicinity.”
“My apologies, Sir. I wondered if you had maybe forgotten, given your previous comment. Talons that sharp, no matter how nice they may smell, definitely constitute a threat.”
“Bah!” Blueblood tossed his mane, a difficult feat when one is lying down, but a well practised one. “Don't be absurd. I didn't forget, as I'm sure you're very well aware.”
A tense silence fell, punctuated only by the sound of Flash trotting across the marble floor, and water spattering onto porcelain.
“I think,” began Blueblood, “that the problem must be with the company Fancy Pants keeps, rather than the stallion himself. He is perfectly tolerable. It just seems that every time I have to interact with the lower classes, I invariably end up in an argument which ends with me making a fool of myself. Why he insists on surrounding himself with… commoners, I will never know.”
“I expect many of those commoners have similar thoughts.”
The prince raised a single, deadly eyebrow. “...And what do you mean by that?”
Flash Sentry shrugged. “Oh, well just to imagine yourself in their hooves for a second. Everypony seems to very much enjoy themselves at Mr Pants’s gatherings, save for yourself, and the ones you end up coming to blows with. And in the case of those unfortunate individuals, I imagine the phrase that springs to mind is ‘Why in Equestria does our delightful host insist on inviting the prince every time!’”
Silence. Slowly, Blueblood pushed himself up off the bed.
“Do you know what, Guard?” He said, voice dangerously quiet. “I’ve had enough of your ‘witty comments’. I’ve had enough of you.”
Flash paused in his preparations, tilting his head. “Sir?”
“I mean, who do you think you are? Offering me advice? Talking back in that flippant tone of yours?” His voice began to raise in volume as he got up, pacing the floor slowly. “No, Mr Sentry, I will not stand for it. From this moment forth, you are dismissed from my services. Deposed. Fired. Pick whatever word you like for it, but from now on, you and I are finished!”
Flash held his gaze, wordlessly. “As you say, Sir,” he finally said. “When do you wish to-”
“Oh, I think this can be a priority issue, don’t you?” Blueblood said, stalking across to his bureau, and sliding a couple of sheets of parchment from a drawer. “I’ll get it down tonight, and you can send it off once you leave for the evening. I don’t see why I should be forced to endure your presence for a moment longer than necessary.”
He floated the empty form across to Flash, and smiled the smile of a politician. “You don’t mind writing it yourself, do you? I’ll dictate, so don’t worry about having to think - goodness knows that must be difficult for a guard like you - all you need to do is write down what I say. Understand?”
“Perfectly. Sir.” The pegasus reached over to his back and swiftly yanked out a feather. Blueblood flinched.
“Ugh, really- must you do that?”
“Quill,” Flash said, retrieving a pot of ink from the bureau.
“Yes I can see that, but why- oh forget it. All the more reason to be thankful I’m rid of you.”
He cleared his throat. “Ahem. To the head of the royal guard, General Shining Armor. Top Priority. It is my greatest displeasure-”
“Captain.”
“What?”
“He's still a Captain,” Flash said, as he scratched away at the parchment. “He's not a general, yet.”
Blueblood frowned. “But he's a royal!”
“Yes,” nodded Flash, “but not a general. Just a captain.”
“They didn't promote him after he married the Princess of Love?”
“No. He did also gain the title of Prince, of course, but-”
“No! I refuse to address him as such.” Blueblood spat. “That title is one which ought to be earned! Not just bestowed on any old pony who happens to find themselves marrying a princess.”
Flash Sentry looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, opting instead to focus on writing.
“Yes, well Captain Shining Armor then. Anyway, where we left off. It is my greatest displeasure to inform you that I no longer desire the services of the Royal Guard selected for me, one Sergeant Flash Sentry. Ever since he was first assigned to my protection, he has behaved flagrantly in every sense of the word. In hoping that the Equestrian Military cares enough about its royalty to properly ensure their safety and wellbeing, I am requesting the immediate dismissal of the Sergeant from his position, and a new more suitable pony to take his place. I write this letter in order to inform you in great detail of the misdeeds of this miscreant, which I hope will act as sufficient proof in supporting my appeal. The first of these- What are you doing?”
Flash had tucked the parchment and quill under a wing, and was heading for the en-suite. “Turning the water off, Sir,” he replied. “I’m assuming, of course, that you still want to have your bath? If you find the thought of me still working for you offensive, I can leave its preparation up to you though.”
“What? No, obviously continue preparing the bath. Will you be able to manage doing that whilst scribing?”
The pegasus nodded. “I reckon that’s within my capabilities, Sir.”
“Wonderful,” Blueblood snapped. “In which case, I shall continue. The first of these faults is that of unprofessionalism. As I am sure you are keenly aware, it is of the utmost importance to Equestrian Royalty- no wait, actually make that the Hereditary Equestrian Royalty, that they are treated with the utmost respect, as befitting of their position. While the vast majority of those who are fortunate enough to serve under us seem to understand this simple fact, the same cannot be said for Flash Sentry. I frequently find him speaking to me as though we were equals or friends, casually giving me his thoughts on anything he finds interesting, giving his opinions on my actions, and throughout he does not bother to use any iota of formality beyond addressing me as ‘Sir’. Even that seems beyond him sometimes-”
“To my credit, Sir, I did abandon the nickname attempts fairly swiftly,” Flash said, poking his head around the bathroom door. “Your name is, if you’ll excuse my saying so, extremely difficult to shorten. Princey? Bloody? Prince BB? Just ‘Blue’ works the best off the tongue, but given you’re not actually that colour…”
“The difficulty,” replied Prince BB, through gritted teeth, “Is in understanding why you thought any form of nickname would be appropriate.”
“I can just call you Blueblood, if you prefer?”
“Sir,” the unicorn seethed, “Will do just fine, thank you very much.”
Flash did another little salute. “Of course, Sir.”
“As I was saying. This attitude is, as I am sure you’re aware, utterly unbefitting of a Royal Guard, and has caused me much embarrassment on multiple occasions. I would request, when you eventually see to assigning me a new guard, one who does not enjoy running their mouth quite as much.”
“Have I caused you embarrassment, Sir?”
“Hm?”
Flash had stopped writing, and was looking over at Prince Blueblood with an expression of concern.
“Your bath is ready,” he added.
“Oh, uh. Good,” Blueblood said. “I certainly didn't lie, if that's what you're suggesting. You do adopt a casual tone almost constantly around me.”
“Not at formal events. I make sure to speak appropriately at those.”
“Well, then in front of my friends and associates-”
“Again, only if I know formality isn't a great concern to them. I do try and spare you embarrassment where possible, Sir.”
“Well- I mean I suppose that technically you might be correct in that regard- but really that's besides the point.
The pegasus shrugged. “It's how I speak. Don't see much point in putting up a facade, Sir. Especially around you.”
Blueblood was quiet for a couple of moments. “Alright,” he finally muttered. “Change embarrassment to annoyance then or something. You said my bath was ready?”
Flash nodded. “Yes Sir.”
The prince took a deep breath. “Wonderful.”
He made his way through into the en-suite. Flash was there as always to assist with his wardrobe, undoing the pearl buttons of his dress shirt with his dexterous wingtips and neatly folding his dinner jacket as he shook it off. Experimentally, he dipped a hoof into the water. It was the perfect heat, not enough to scald, but enough to feel. He slowly lowered himself in, letting out a content sigh.
“That's what I needed.” He said, eyes closed.
Flash gave him a few minutes of respectful silence before clearing his throat. “Sir?”
The prince cracked an eye open. “What?”
“The letter of dismissal?”
“Oh, yes, of course. Where were we?”
“You had just finished your critique of my professional attitude. Is that everything or…?”
“Goodness, not at all. I know what military officials are like. He’ll need a bit more proof than an attitude problem to justify the paperwork required for a new guard.” He frowned. “No, begin a new paragraph.”
“Ready when you are.”
“Let's see… Ah, yes. The second issue I have found with Sergeant Flash Sentry is his conduct during social events. I am a strong believer in the maxim that guards should be seen and not heard-”
“That's foals, Sir. Ponies say that about children.”
“Really? I don't seem to recall having heard it during my own childhood. Well, keep it in, I'm sure they won't notice. Flash Sentry loves to be heard, as I have previously established, but he also loves to be seen. I have had several very trying moments at recent parties and gatherings where he has made a fool of himself. If I wanted a fool, I would have requested a jester, not a guard. Why, only last week we were attending a garden party hosted by Perfect Pace, just a small affair with a few select guests invited. Naturally I bring my guard along to these sorts of things, just a precaution, you understand. Anyway, midway through a most enthralling conversation with Duke Concessionaire, Flash Sentry approached us carrying a pitcher of punch, and somehow managed to trip over his own hooves, spilling the contents over everypony present. It quite ruined my shirt, and prevented what could have been a very worthwhile investment, as well as any chance of friendship with the Duke.”
Flash spoke up suddenly. “Actually, the pony in question isn’t a Duke any more, Sir.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Recently it came to light that he’d been faking his identity. Turns out his real name was ‘Confidence Trick’. Of course, they stripped him of his titles when they arrested him, although the titles weren’t genuine either.”
“Oh.” Blueblood blinked. “Well, it’s a good thing I decided against taking him up on that business he was talking about then.”
“Quite.”
“Hm.” The prince thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “Moving on. Another recent moment that I found particularly trying was when I was at a little fling put together by Jet Set and Upper Crust. A ball of sorts, if I recall correctly, and I was feeling rather merry on the day. However, upon arriving I discovered that my guard was also unable to follow simple orders. Despite the fact that I very clearly stated that my suit was to be my newly ordered bottle green one, (from the newest Carousel line, you might have heard of them), upon reaching my room I found that it was nowhere to be seen. The fool had even forgotten my golden cummerbund. I had to make do with the dull black suits that he had mistakenly packed in their stead, and it quite ruined my mood for the rest of the whole business.”
Flash Sentry gave a polite cough. “Maybe that slip of the mind was a fortunate one, Sir? As I seem to recall, it was a celebration for the pair’s anniversary - and I believe that both Jet Set’s suit and Upper Crust’s gown were almost exactly the same shade as the suit you had planned to wear - perhaps even from the very same line. It wouldn’t have done to outshine them at their own event.”
Prince Blueblood huffed in annoyance. “I do wish you’d stop interrupting.”
“I just meant to say-”
“That is your problem, Guard. You shouldn’t be saying anything at all.” Blueblood sighed, leaning back further into the water. “I imagine if you’d stopped talking every once in a while, and spent that time productively instead, then you might have remembered to pack my suits, and I wouldn’t be in the process of firing you right now.”
“Of course Sir. I’ll be sure to bear that gem of wisdom in mind.”
Blueblood nodded. “I’m sure it will make a difference. Anyway, let us get back on topic. Do you think I’ve provided enough instances of your incompetence?”
Flash didn’t respond immediately. “It… might benefit from another example, Sir. If you have any.”
“If you say so. I suppose I’ll just tell the Captain about that incident at Fancy Pants’s previous party then. When I was speaking to that delightful young mare from Manehatten. Pearly Strings or Stringy Pearls or something. We were having a very nice discussion about my various virtues and accolades, until you rudely joined the conversation, and talked loudly over her until she decided to leave. Or are you going to interject to tell me that she was actually a con-mare, or wearing the same jacket as me, or something equally sinister?”
Flash rubbed the back of his head with a hoof. “No Sir, as far as I know, the young lady was a perfectly normal member of the aristocracy.”
“Hmph.” Blueblood smiled smugly. “There we have it then.”
“I only interrupted because I thought you would appreciate an easy way out of that situation, Sir.”
“How do you mean?”
“You were unaware of her intentions?”
Blueblood frowned, and sat up again. “What are you saying?”
“She uh… wanted to get into your ‘royal treasury,’ so to speak.”
He raised an eyebrow. “She was a thief?”
“No, I mean that she um… wanted to spend some time with you under Luna’s sky?”
“What has Auntie got to do with any of this?” He scowled. “Just drop the riddles and tell me what you mean.”
“Yes Sir. My apologies. To put it bluntly, from what I could tell she was looking to enter into a physical or romantic relationship with you.”
Blueblood slipped, and disappeared under the bubbly waters of the bath. He surfaced quickly, wide eyed and spluttering.
“I- She was- you mean-”
Flash inclined his head. “Since you didn’t seem to share her intentions, I took it upon myself to offer you a path out of your predicament. Am I to take it that you would rather I left things be…?”
“Wh- No! No that’s… Are you sure that’s what she wanted?”
“She placed her hoof on your chest.”
“I thought she was admiring my coat!”
“She then proceeded to stroke your chest, Sir.”
“It’s a very nice coat!” Blueblood protested. “I take good care of it! Though- I must admit, I can see what you're getting at. And I- well, I mean, given the circumstances, I suppose some thanks are in order.”
Flash grinned and made a small bow. “Think nothing of it, Sir. Just doing my job. Oh, speaking of Fancy Pants’s parties, he informed me as we left this evening that he's planning on holding another this upcoming weekend. Do you plan on attending?”
Blueblood nodded, wiping the soap from his eyes. “Oh, um… yes, of course. Whyever would I miss it? Somepony of my status can't afford to not make an appearance. You know that”
“Very good, Sir. I'll get a reply down this evening and leave it for my replacement to deliver.”
“Replacement?”
“Yes Sir. The one who’ll be assigned after I'm dismissed.”
“Ah. Yes, yes, naturally.” The prince mopped his brow. “Bring me the basin of cold water, and read aloud to me what we have so far.”
Flash Sentry did so.
“Somehow…” Prince Blueblood said, “It doesn’t quite convey the tone I was intending. I’m not entirely sure that this will convince the captain.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Sir.”
Blueblood eyed Flash Sentry suspiciously. He didn’t look sorry.
“Well. We’ll just have to throw some more complaints in there then. That ought to do it. Let’s start with… your mane. Never was fond of blue hair. And it does look so silly on orange. Write that down. And your unrealistic fussiness when it comes to security. It really goes a little too far. Your lack of respect is unbelievable- although we did touch on that already, didn’t we? Hmm.”
“You could mention my stubbornness, and how it often makes me unwilling to compromise on important matters, Sir. I’ve always personally seen that as one of my greatest weaknesses.”
“Oh I like that actually. Yes, include that then. Got anything else?”
“I’ve been told that I’m often overly passionate as well. When I become invested in a cause, or a pony, I find it very difficult to temper my efforts surrounding them. It means I often get into a bit of a one-track mindset.”
“Good, good. Any more?”
“If I’m completely honest I’ve never really had great taste when it comes to my romantic interests?”
Blueblood stopped to think, and then shrugged. “Sure. Include that as well. Why not. I feel like we could do with just a bit more though…”
He stared at his guard, who was diligently writing everything down, and tried to find any further flaws in his appearance, mannerisms, character, anything at all that he could criticise. His gaze traced the long, surprisingly elegant feathers of his wings. The fluffy, tousled waves of his mane, usually hidden beneath his helmet. He watched the drops of condensation forming on his breastplate, following them as they trickled down from armour to lean, muscular coat. Drop after drop.
“...distracting,” he found himself saying.
Flash paused in his writing, and looked over.
“Sorry Sir, could you elaborate on that?”
“No,” Prince Blueblood very firmly stated, before grasping the basin of cold water from the side table and dunking his head in it.
“You feeling alright, Sir?” Flash asked, as Blueblood emerged again, gasping for air as icy water dripped from his mane.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure, Sir?” Flash put his quill and parchment down and approached, concerned. “You look very-”
“No! Stay back!” Blueblood struggled to three of his hooves, shielding his eyes from Flash Sentry with the other. “I’m getting out- Stay back, I said!”
The prince clambered out of the bath with as much grace as he could muster and beelined for the bedroom, shivering with cold, and generally getting bathwater everywhere. The pegasus followed.
“In conclusion!” He barked. “I hope I have provided sufficient evidence to convince you that I am in desperate need of a new guard! Sergeant Flash Sentry is… he’s… too much for me to handle! No, I mean- he’s out of control- well no, he’s taking up too much of my mind- or- he’s… he…”
He stopped. Breathed. Flash proffered a towel and bathrobe, which he took.
“If I might suggest, Sir,” he said, as the unicorn dried himself, “perhaps just ‘The royal guard and I are unsuited for each other’ would convey your intent.”
“I suppose so.” Blueblood said.
“In that case, it just needs your signature, and I’ll send it off bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Very good.” Blueblood said.
He lifted the quill in his magic, and inspected it. One tan orange feather. On second glance, perhaps it wasn’t such a garish shade against the guard’s blue mane after all. It even went quite nicely with his own pure white coat. He twirled it in his magic, then signed the parchment with a flourish.
Flash Sentry took it from him with a nod. Blueblood finished drying his mane, just enough to remove most moisture, not enough to lose the silkiness. He tossed the towel to Flash, and took the bathrobe in return.
“Well then Sir, I’ll send off this letter right away, and I’ll be back at 7:15 tomorrow morning to bring you your tea and morning paper.” Flash said, gathering up his helmet, as Blueblood made his way over to the canopy bed. “You have a meeting with the royal treasury at 10, and you’re having lunch with Miss de Lis. The evening is clear, at the moment, but word around the castle is that Princess Luna intends on displaying a meteor shower of sorts, so I would suggest heading out to enjoy that. Good Night, Sir.”
“Ah- just wait a second, guard.”
Flash stopped obediently in the doorway. Blueblood gave a slight cough.
“...I’m feeling generous tonight.” He said finally, not meeting the other’s eyes. “File that letter away for now. We’ll see how I feel in the morning, but If you’re lucky, I may not decide to send it.”
The royal guardspony bowed deeply. “Thank you very much Sir.”
“Yes, well,” Blueblood sniffed. “Everypony deserves a second chance. Make good use of yours. Now leave me to my beauty sleep, before I change my mind.”
Flash slipped out into the corridor, and quietly closed the door behind him. The marble halls of Canterlot castle were quiet as he trotted down them, the only sound his own echoing hoofbeats, and the distant sound of owls. The extravagantly decorated walls gave way to a smooth, practical stone as he approached the servant’s quarters, and his own small room. Flash entered, locking the door behind him, before he crossed over to a modest chest of drawers. He took out the letter of dismissal, and put it into the bottommost drawer, where it joined the many similar sheets of parchment that he had acquired over his years of service.
Flash Sentry smiled to himself, and pushed the drawer shut.
