Shameless

Shameless

That afternoon’s first patrol brought Pavise and his guards to the crystal throne room, the beauty of which Pavise appreciated less and less the more they toured it–seemingly every day now. A long stripe of white-trimmed subdued magenta stretched from the throne all the way to the set of double-doors that guarded the throne room from the rest of the castle. Many tall, curtained windows dotted the walls; monolithic crystals stood sentry in-between each window, shining a dull periwinkle.

It was enough to quickly scan the room for threats before heading off to clear more of the castle, but Pavise paused–not to admire the decor, but to make sure he wasn’t imagining the limp figure of Cadance on the crystal throne. A pair of guards flanked her on either side, and a castle aide whispered something to her; she barely swiveled an ear to listen, and her eyes remained glassy and unfocused.

Pavise couldn’t help but stare at the Princess in surprise, bringing the other two stallions behind him–Jasper and Blank again today–to a halt. His thoughts shifted to the previous night, and he ground his teeth to dissipate the growing red on his cheeks. Maybe his hoofholding had- Of course not, idiot.

Realizing he was being stared at, Pavise mustered up an explanation. “I just didn’t expect to see Cadance back on the throne so soon,” Pavise said to the other two behind him, trying to betray none of his internal struggle.

Silence.

He turned to them and saw that they were shaking, eyes wide and nostrils flared. “Something wrong?” Pavise asked.

“Oh Celestia… It’s all our fault…” said Blank Slate. Jasper didn’t say anything, but it seemed as though they shared a similar mind. Cadance hadn’t looked over at them, or the ponies talking to either for that matter.

“What? What are you talking about” Pavise looked between the two, bewildered.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m a failure. I can’t do this,” said Jasper in a small voice. Ears folded back in dismay, he reached down and unclipped his spear before breaking formation; seconds later, Blank Slate followed suit. The palace guards watched the two of them with confusion, obviously still wary of any additional attacks on the Crystal Empire’s remaining ruler. If the two hadn’t been guards themselves, traveling with Pavise, the other guards may have pulled their spears at the defectors. They called out anyway.

“What are you two doing?” said a burly palace guard near Cadance’s throne. The two had already cleared the massive hall and approached the Princess’s seat with their heads low. When she finally looked at them, they fell on their faces.

“Princess, we’re so sorry! We failed you, how can you ever forgive us? How can we still be guards if we can’t even protect Shining Armor?” Their tearful apologies brought nothing from Cadance, but the mention of her husband’s name was enough to lower and away her gaze, the wound reopened. The maidmare that Cadance had been conversing with began to shoo them away angrily.

“You two, get out of here! Can’t you see you’re upsetting the Princess?” She threatened them with a raised foreleg, but Cadance reached out and gently tapped the mare on the shoulder. The Princess mumbled something to the maid and her fury evaporated, replaced by sympathy.

Pavise broke into a canter himself and went to retrieve the two guards, no doubt appearing less under his command than his rank would suggest. He apologized to the maid, the advisors, and to Cadance, for their interruption and marched the guards out toward the hall. He stole one last look at the Princess before they left, and she immediately locked eyes with him. Her expression was unreadable, and her eyes impenetrable; he inadvertently blushed, pulling his gaze from her enrapturing countenance and leading the two ponies out of the throne room.

“What the hay was that? You realize that you two could have been thrown in the dungeon for that? You’re lucky they realized you were with me–even if you two are guards, I’m sure everypony is expecting another assassination, and there’s no reason why it couldn’t come from somepony wearing our uniform.”

Surely they were still in earshot of the throne room, just outside and to the left, but Pavise didn’t care. The two guards stared pitifully at the ground, making no attempt to defend themselves.

“Look–I’m sure you guys are feeling sorry about what happened, but you still have a duty to uphold. You may think what you just did was the right thing to do, but you’re actually just being selfish, breaking protocol to make yourselves feel better.”

Isn’t that what you did last night?

The realization of his hypocrisy dawned on him, spurring his anger on even further. Pavise berated them for another few minutes, perhaps unnecessarily, before banishing them to the barracks to ‘reflect’, then returned to the throne room to retrieve the spears they had dropped. It was hard to ignore the stares he received from the other guards who’d likely heard his dressing down of the guards.

Patrols for the rest of the day were uneventful, and when dinnertime finally rolled around, Pavise felt unusually drained. He nearly collapsed into his seat across from Emery, pushing the report he had carefully penned and balanced on his nose over to the Captain. Today’s dinner was even less exciting than the last–some sort of bean soup and rice.

“What’s this?” Emery asked without much energy–he didn’t bother looking up at the prepared documents. Pavise cleared his throat and explained what had happened earlier that day with Jasper and Blank, though he elected to leave his raging temper out of the report.

“What do you think we should do? I was thinking reduced rations, but…” Pavise trailed off when he finally noticed Emery’s odd behavior. The older stallion could be quiet at times, but was rarely this uninvolved, especially when it came to matters of the guard.

“Don’t worry about them–they won’t be our responsibility for much longer.” Pavise didn’t quite know what to make of that, and they ate their dinner afterward without more conversation. Emery excused himself quickly and Pavise nodded in numb recognition–both at Emery’s departure and the fact that the ponies in the castle were still struggling with Shining Armor’s death–it seemed he alone had gotten over the death of his Prince and Guard Commander so quickly.

Preoccupied by these thoughts, he escaped the chow hall and wandered aimlessly through the castle, guided vaguely by the intention to retreat to the barracks for some reading before his overnight shift. He almost didn’t salute when he passed the Princess, his brain fogged by too much thinking. But unfortunately, rather than keep walking, Cadance brought her entourage of guards to a halt behind him. He resisted the urge to escape and turned to them; she was staring at him, and he squirmed under her gaze.

“Good evening, Princess.” She continued to stare, almost expectant, and he searched for something, anything to help him get away. In the back of his head, he marveled at the desire to run away from the Princess he had always wished to bump into late at night and talk with into the wee hours of the night–he wanted anything else right now, and he didn’t know why.

Pavise cleared his throat and continued, hesitant. “...Sorry. For earlier, I mean, with my subordinates. I don’t know what came over them, but I promise it won’t happen again.” He scraped the floor with his helmet, bowing deeply–the familiar motions of obeisance helped to steady his rapidly-beating heart.

“You don’t need to apologize,” said Cadance in near monotone. Cautiously, he raised his head and saw that same unreadable expression. Did I do something wrong? Before he could blunder any further, she spoke again. “Were you there last night?”

Pavise froze, jaw clenching unconsciously; his armored barding suddenly felt like it was squeezing the air from his lungs. Thinking back, he had slipped away quite noisily that first morning, but he was sure she hadn’t woken up before he escaped.

But what if she had? Dozens of punishments galloped through his mind as he thought of the impending confrontation, the announcement that he had molested the grieving Princess in her bed when he was supposed to be protecting her. His career was certainly over. His eyes darted to the guards standing by–all already informed of his and Emery’s special duties, of course–but there was no condemnation in their expressions, only simple curiosity.

“Yes?” he said, more of a question. “Was there… something wrong?” said Pavise cautiously. Seconds felt like minutes, but eventually Cadance shook her head, looking away. Her long, voluminous mane draped over her muzzle gently and shadowed her face.

“No, just… Just checking.” Nothing in her voice sounded accusatory, but Pavise still fought back the panic that gripped his heart, breathing a little harder. “I’m sorry, but I need to go for now. Thank you for apologizing.” She strode past him; her floral scent washed over him, like fresh lavender, and calmed the beating of his hideous heart.

When Pavise finished his first patrol of the day, Emery found him and pulled him aside, dismissing his subordinates. Pavise was almost expecting a reprimand, perhaps for his treatment of Jasper and Blank the other day, until he made eye contact with Emery–the stallion looked exhausted.

“I just had a talk with those guards from Shining’s squad, the ones that gave you trouble the other day.” Pavise winced, wondering too late if he had been overharsh in his report. “Well–they’re running away.” Emery hissed the words out, shaking his head. “You’re welcome to go talk to them, but we can’t expect to use guards that won’t follow orders, or guards that can’t be around the Princess.” Emery snorted and turned away, making for the throne room, and Pavise was left feeling ashamed.

He found himself trudging down to the barracks shortly after, each step heavy with the guilt of his error. When he finally reached the guard quarters, three ponies–Jasper, Blank Slate, and a third guard from Shining’s old crew Pavise hadn’t worked with–were polluting the barracks with the sound of bags being packed and soft sniffles. Their stone bunks were tidied, and their belongings removed from their wall cabinets. The armor they had been given, that they had earned, was piled neatly on their beds. Pavise drew their attention when he’d entered far enough.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jasper said as he looked up at Pavise. He had surely been crying, and insomnia tugged at the corners of his eyes. “We just… we can’t do this. Not anymore.”

Blank Slate threw the linen pack over his shoulder and approached Pavise; his bronze mane clung to his pallid face, and he was looking at something far away. “How can we serve in the guard when we failed our one and only duty? How can anypony look at us the same–how can we look at us the same?”

The third stallion, a rust-colored pony with a charcoal mane stood as well; Pavise regretted that he had never learned the pony’s name.

“I never was much of a guard, anyway. I don’t know how I made it through training. I just wanted to help… some help we were.”

Pavise was overwhelmed by the sentiment the stallions shared, all at once realizing that it wasn’t his reprimanding that had pushed them over the edge–it was seeing Cadance again after having let her down. He could understand their shame, but surely desertion was going too far? He almost felt remiss to ask them to stay. “I had no idea you all felt this way,” Pavise said softly. “What about the other two? Moonstone and Obsidian Shield?”

Jasper was quick to reply. “We don’t know, sir. We haven’t talked to them since… since before that day.” Pavise supposed that was a good thing–dropping down to fourteen guards was already bad enough, and he didn’t like to imagine pulling even more patrols now. But he was still at a loss for words. Would they just go wherever the wind blew them? Did they have a place in mind? He thought to ask, but decided he didn’t need to know.

“Well,” he began, searching for the right words. They spoke with such finality that he didn’t think he could change their minds, and Emery was right–they were no use to the guard if they couldn’t follow orders. “...Just take care of yourselves out there. We could give you an escort at least as far as the train station, if you want.” He wasn’t actually sure if that was something he could promise, but thankfully Blank shook his head. “No need. We can find our way out.”

With some final awkward goodbyes, Pavise left the stallions to their packing.

The rest of the day passed slowly, another two patrols down, and finally it was Pavise’s turn once again to stand guard overnight in Cadance’s chambers. He quietly made his way into Cadance’s room with a nod to Emery and the other guard, and took up his previous spot by the wall. His heart began to race again as he thought back to the last time, so close to Cadance yet so miserable in his heart for his behavior. Swallowing with difficulty, he resolved himself to simply stand by the wall and do his duty–no funny business this time.

But inevitably, a few hours into his shift, Cadance cried out into the night. Her sobs echoed through the small space, leaving Pavise nowhere to run from the anguish he felt at hearing her sorrow. He fought with himself to stay where he was, but his hooved betrayed him–he was by her bedside again, looking down with mixed shame and heartbreak.

He didn’t dare remove his helmet this time, not after his previous close call. With a sigh, he offered his foreleg to the sleeping Cadance. As if awaiting the opportunity, Cadance seized his limb quicker than he could blink and cuddled up to it, searing his leg with hot tears. The Princess’s heart-wrenching wails soon quieted, and Pavise slid down to the floor. He sat and watched the shadows in the room distort, taunting him. The inky black figure of Shining Armor swirled into existence, staring at him from the corner of the room with hurt and betrayal.

‘She’s my wife, Pavise. What right do you have to comfort her? You’re just taking advantage of her.’

His gut churned, but Pavise didn’t pull away from Cadance. He was doing the right thing–he had to be. She had obviously taken some kind of comfort from his help. So what if he was enjoying it a little? Yet he knew that it was still wrong. His duty was to protect her, nothing else, and Cadance’s grief wasn’t his to alleviate. That was the responsibility of friends, family members–not him.

Similar thoughts drifted around his head that night, and he was at least grateful for the distraction of inner-turmoil which kept him awake until morning.

Ponies gawked at the fuchsia alicorn as she walked hesitantly down the wide Crystal Empire’s main thoroughfare. Pavise realized that the city’s inhabitants had likely not seen Cadance since the funeral. He couldn’t imagine what sort of speculation had run rampant through pony gossip circles regarding the uncertain state of their government, but hoped this outing would help to quell any remaining doubts about the Empire’s fate, or at least Cadance’s sanity.

Either way, ponies nearby and away bowed reverently as she passed, although she couldn’t give them much more mind than a weak smile.

“Thank you, everypony,” Cadance said. The ponies all warmed in her presence, and some color even returned to their murky coats. Pavise, though, couldn’t help but ogle the ponies with suspicion, eyes sharp for threats.

Cadance had actually wanted to leave the castle by herself, to walk alone with her thoughts, but after a surprising amount of arguing Emery convinced her to at least take one guard with her. Pavise had volunteered, perhaps a little too quickly, and so had followed her down into the city. Of course, they hadn’t just left her alone with a single guard–patrols were diverted into the city streets, as a contingency, but she didn’t need to know that.

Shopkeepers minded their stalls and ponies went about their business around them, having returned mostly to normalcy after the affair of Shining’s death. It wasn’t as though they had forgotten him, but likely that everypony had recognized Cadance was the pony most affected by the assassination, and in solidarity with the Princess had decided to do what they could to press on so as not to give Cadance any additional pain.

The weather, of course, didn’t grieve at all. The sun beat down overhead, peeking at them around scant puffy clouds, but a gentle breeze whistled through the city architecture. Autumn had arrived quickly, and Pavise was sure other parts of Equestria would soon start the Running of the Leaves. Unfortunately, the few trees that dotted the city were evergreens, and he couldn’t recall seeing the rich golds and coppers of the fall season anywhere except in a book. Pavise took it all in, relishing the fresh air and time away from the castle.

“I remember the first time we first heard about the Crystal Empire,” said Cadance suddenly. Pavise nearly didn’t realize she was talking about her and Shining Armor. They had stopped in the middle of the street, given a straight view down the crystal glass path to the city limits, where a sea of amber grass danced in the wind.

“I grew up in Canterlot, like most unicorns, and I thought we lived in the biggest city in the world. It’s amazing how narrow your perspective is when you’re just a filly. When we first saw the Empire on our train ride over here, we couldn’t believe a whole other city we’d never heard about was hiding in the Frozen North.”

Cadance rubbed a hoof along the road, glancing down as she traced its glossy surface in no specific pattern. “Shining joked that the ponies here lived in crystals and looked like crystals, so they might eat crystals too, like dragons do.” She smiled, lost in her memories. Even in her bitter reminiscence, Pavise was captivated by her natural beauty.

She started down the road again. Soon they had passed a small farmers market, where crystal ponies pushed what little cold crops grew in the Empire’s cool arid climate. Cadance led them into the market, kicking Pavise’s anxiety into a gallop; if a pony had been following them looking for a chance to take Cadance out, now was the perfect time. He was relieved to see a guard patrol had already beat him there. With a slight nod, the guards fanned out strategically yet inconspicuously across the market square to ward off any potential threat.

Cadance continued on as normal, seemingly oblivious to the risk she had taken. “Princess Celestia had already told us that the Crystal Empire had been cursed by the evil magic of a tyrant unicorn, and that there was some powerful magic we needed to find in order to stop him from returning. It was all we could do to protect the ponies here while Twilight and her friends came to help.”

The market shoppers nearly tumbled over, bowing when they all realized that the Princess had arrived. They should have been paying more attention, he thought with annoyance, but begrudgingly accepted that they probably just hadn’t expected to see Cadance in town so soon. He edged closer to the Princess, gently nudging ponies away from her as they stammered out their condolences.

“Thank you everypony–it means a lot to hear your kind words,” Cadance said, smiling with a wooden quality that lacked enough energy to be convincing–it seemed that despite the brave face, she was still struggling inside. Pavise looked back to Cadance.

“Why don’t we leave them to it, Princess?” Pavise said, beckoning her back to the street. Cadance nodded slowly, already backing away from the growing clamor of the market crowd. Luckily, an angry guard was enough to part their audience; they returned to the street soon enough.

Minutes later, they reached the edge of the Crystal Heart’s protection, a hidden yet tangible border. Any crystal pony could feel the power of the Heart ebb slowly the further they crossed into the Frozen North. Pavise himself had rarely gone this far away from the castle since he’d become a guard–except for the funeral, of course.

Cadance wavered on the precipice, giving Pavise some anxiety. She extended a hoof, as if to lean against some invisible wall on the other side. He was surprised when she spoke again, her mane occasionally blown by wisps of the autumn wind.

“He taught me how to cast that spell, you know–the protective magic I put over the city while we waited for Twilight to get here. It was the same spell he put over Canterlot during our wedding. It was his special talent: protecting ponies.” Cadance finished weakly, and he looked over to see crystalline tears rolling down the vivid pink of her cheeks. Cadance slowly lowered her hoof.

“Shining, he…” Cadance couldn’t stem the flow of tears long enough to get the words out, and so Pavise waited with her by the edge of the Empire until she cried herself dry; she slumped against the ground, her slender form jerking with every painful sob. Pavise knew that he should have rushed to her side, to support her, but his own regret kept him from it–what would ordinarily be a normal act for a guard now seemed distorted by his feelings.

She started again sometime later, lifting her head and wiping the tears from her muzzle with a hoof. “...He was always doing things for other ponies–he lived to help others. That’s what made me fall in love with him in the first place. Even when I became an alicorn, he still did everything he could to protect me, even though I could take care of myself. He didn’t treat me any different, even though I felt more alone being a Princess than I ever did as a regular unicorn.

“But nopony protected him. I left him all alone and somepony took him from me. One of the ponies we risked our lives to protect from Sombra’s evil killed him in cold blood. It didn’t matter how good he was, or how much he had done for others. Somepony still decided that his life wasn’t worth anything, and they extinguished his light.” Pavise expected anger, but Cadance spoke as though reading from a script. There was no emotion, no anger or bitterness, just a hollow understanding of how fleeting her husband’s life had been.

The two of them stayed there for a long time like that. The setting sun brought colossal shadows cast from the distant mountains that stretched over them like a blanket of cold indifference. Pavise felt strangled by the silence. Despite the foalish jealousy Pavise felt at Shining’s having married the mare of his dreams, he had also thought that Shining Armor was one of the best stallions he had ever met, let alone the best Prince or ruler he had ever met. He was so down to earth, so honest, and so likable. But in the end, somepony still thought he needed to die.

“Prince Shining Armor was my inspiration to join the guard,” Pavise suddenly said; it was a lie. “When I saw you two risk everything to save us, to defeat that tyrant and give us our freedom and hope back, I remembered my own purpose.” Guided by a little truth, perhaps, but a lie nonetheless. Revulsion built like bile in his throat, but not enough to prevent him from speaking silver.

“He was a great stallion–I don’t think there will ever be another pony like him. But we can all learn from his example. We should do what we can, protect innocent ponies, and bring evil to justice,” said Pavise. It was all so cliche, but hopefully what Cadance needed to hear. When he noticed that Cadance had been staring at him, he quickly felt rather foolish. “Sorry, I just-”

“Thank you,” Cadance said. He looked at her and saw that same faint smile from earlier. Her eyes glistened, wet with sadness, but her smile shone with refreshing authenticity. He felt all the more remorseful for his dishonesty; Pavise smiled back, half as genuine.

They returned to the castle after sunset, with Cadance at least in better spirits. She bid him goodbye with a congenial nod, and he watched her leave, uncertain. The walk had clearly done her some good, and for that he was grateful, but their conversation had left him feeling hollow.

Why didn’t I just tell her the truth?

The thought of revealing his secret to her directly, especially in that moment, caused his heart to miss a beat, but he knew it would have been better than lying. If I told her how I felt, she’d probably think I was just being nice to her because I wanted to be with her. And in truth, that was still sort of what he was doing. Somehow, he still felt as though he was navigating a ship through an ice field, with the promise of some unattainable reward awaiting him should he emerge unscathed.

But what did that even mean? What point was there in growing closer with Cadance? In the end, he was a guard, and she was a Princess. It didn’t matter that she was a widow now, or that he comforted her at night without her or anypony else knowing about it. He was still just a pony, even if a wretched opportunist.

Deep down, he knew that she would never love him.