Guard Your Feelings

by stile

Rating: teen
Tags: Big Macintosh, Sad, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Caramel
Length: 1892

Caramel tries to escape from his problems in Ponyville by joining the Royal Guards.

This story picks up on Caramel as he is contemplating his life in the Royal Guards. He is no longer sure why he joined up in the first place, and it doesn't help when the object of his unspoken affection comes to visit.

Published 2012-10-22 23:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-22 23:10:01 UTC

Chapter 1

Caramel shifted uncomfortably in his armor. What was he DOING here, anyway? It was a question he asked himself several times a day…and still hadn’t managed to come up with a satisfactory answer to.

It had seemed so simple in the beginning. There were so many reasons, back then. Good pay, a respectable career. He had never gotten any respect back in Ponyville, and there had been no reason to stay there. Well, maybe one reason…

No. Stay focused. You’ve got a job now, so try to do it. Maybe it’s not exactly the job you thought you were signing up for, but there’s a long tradition behind the Royal Guards. A long tradition of…well, let’s be honest here…standing around in shiny armor, looking pretty. Just standing here outside one of the hundreds of massive doors in the Canterlot palace, looking like you matter. At least in Ponyville, you had important things to do…even if you usually screwed them up. And even that was better than just standing here all day, alone with your thoughts, galloping in circles over and over.

Well, not exactly alone. Guards were always stationed in pairs, of course. Maybe, in her high lofty wisdom, Celestia thought it looked more impressive that way. But honestly, if there were any serious threat to Canterlot, it would require more than a pair of ponies to deal with it. Caramel’s main job, as far as he could tell, was to stand very still and try to ignore the tourists who took pictures of him and tried to make him break attention. Not that they tried very often…not when there were other stallions around who looked like they actually belonged in their armor. The big silver unicorn on the other side of the door, for example. His partner, supposedly, but it was obvious which one of them really belonged there. Then again, if those tourists really knew what the guards were like off duty…

You’ve probably heard stories about what goes on in the barracks. Back in Ponyville, a lot of obsessed fanfillies had written lurid tales of roommates and locker rooms and group showers…and Caramel had secretly read his share of them, blushing the whole time. That certainly had NOT been one of the reasons he applied for the job! He wasn’t interested in that AT ALL. Sure, he had been lonely in Ponyville, but there was only one stallion for him.

Wait, no. There is no stallion for you, Caramel. I mean, even if Big Macintosh WOULD be impressed by your newfound responsibility, he still wouldn’t be interested in you that way…right? Of course not. Nope, this job is all about respect, and career, and honor, and things like that. Impressing some hay-chewing farmpony doesn’t enter into it.

Respect, honor, tradition…of course, there were a few traditions in the Royal Guards that even the Ponyville girls had never guessed. A few months ago, Caramel had spent his nights wondering what it would be like to kiss somepony, and do whatever he liked with his beautiful muscled red body, and then fall asleep with one leg draped over him. Well, now he knew what that was like, but he kind of wished that he was still wondering. He had been lonely in Ponyville, but it was almost lonelier to live like he was now. What was he doing here?

“Caramel? Hey, buddy…shift’s over.”

Caramel regarded his partner silently for a moment, still trapped in the cycle of self-pity that he had been in all day. “Partner”…that was a joke. They stood next to each other when they were on duty, and they’d even slept together a few times, but it turned out that neither one of those really matched what Caramel wanted out of a partner. There are plenty of stallions for you, Caramel…just none that matter.

Argentine looked at him quizzically. “You awake? We’re done here. Wanna hit a bar or something?”

Caramel snapped back to reality. “O-okay. Sure. Let’s go.”

He might end up in bed with Argentine, or some other colt that he met tonight. It didn’t really make a difference which. They were all the same, in all the ways that mattered, and the more time he spent with them, the lonelier he felt.

What was he DOING here, anyway?

A week later, or maybe a month, Caramel was on duty again, matched up with another partner, at another useless post. He was even starting to get bored of complaining to himself mentally. By this point, he could run through the whole whiny list and it would barely even hurt anymore. That was progress, right?

He gradually noticed that a tourist was trying to get his attention. That’s annoying. Wait…that’s not a tourist.

“Caramel? That IS you, ain’t it? There’s a buncha ponies with your coloring and cutie mark, but I’d know ya anywhere…Caramel?”

Oh…I guess I was wrong about it not hurting anymore. “Shhh. I’m on duty.”

Big Macintosh laughed, that single snorting grunt that Caramel always found inexplicably cute. “Shouldn’t be talking at all, then, I reckon.”

Applejack chimed in, “You can catch up with Caramel later, Mac…we need to go set up our stall for the fair.” Oh, his sister is here, too?

“Yup, I guess you’re right. We’re in town for a few nights, so maybe we’ll run into each other again…?”

Thirty seconds later, they were both gone, swallowed up along with their apple carts by the crowd. Caramel was trying not to think about what that red flank looked like walking away, or why Big Macintosh had said they were there for a few “nights” instead of “days”…this was exactly the sort of thing he had dealt with all the time in Ponyville. Why did that pony always say things like that? Did he even realize that every one of his sentences spent hours in Caramel’s head, being turned over and re-analyzed? And what did it mean that the one image Caramel couldn’t get out of his head was his crush walking AWAY?

Well, at least this solved the problem of being bored for the rest of his shift.

Fast-forward another amount of time. Caramel had gotten in the habit of not even paying attention to time passing, but he was paying attention now. True to his word, the big earth pony had managed to find time to catch up with Caramel on one of the nights when he was off duty. Caramel was still unsure whether it was easier to spend time with the stallion in front of him, or the one who had lived in his head for the past several months. For one thing, it was easier to predict the one in his head.

Big Macintosh had shown up at the barracks and asked for him by name, just as friendly (and oblivious) as usual. Caramel whisked him away from his smirking coworkers as quickly as possible, and steered him away from the usual guard hangouts. Now, he was trying to act like a normal friend. How do normal friends act?

As usual, Big Macintosh didn’t seem to have a clue what the little tan pony was thinking. He was just staring vacantly into space, holding his bottle of apple cider, pondering…something. Caramel quickly ran through all the things he could think of to say.

“So, how’s the cider in Canterlot?” Stupid, but at least it’s something.

Big Macintosh seemed to notice what he was holding in his hoof for the first time. He took another sip, and frowned. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, I like yours a lot better.” Caramel, you idiot. He’s got to know you aren’t really talking about cider.

“I know. You were always in line for it.” What does that mean?

“I usually slept in too late to get any, though. But I liked it when I could get it.”

“I bet you don’t get ta sleep in any more. How’s military life treatin’ ya?”

It’s treating me…how do I answer that? “I don’t actually do all that much.”

“You seemed really busy the other day.”

“Nah, they just don’t like us talking when we’re at our post. I’d probably get in trouble for moving even if there was an army invading Canterlot.”

Big Macintosh laughed again, that adorable snort. Why? It hadn’t been that funny. “I guess that’s how they do things in the big city, huh?” His eyes locked on to Caramel’s with that calm gaze that never gave away how much it saw. “You didn’t answer me though. How do you like this place?”

Caramel froze. Do I tell him the truth? What is the truth? The only thing I miss about Ponyville is you, but I miss you more than I’ve ever missed anything. I only stop thinking about you for a few moments when I’m getting my brains screwed out by some other guard. I’m really just pretending to be someone else here, but that’s what I’ve always done anyway so it’s just the same as any other place. Living here is easy BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE WAY YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL RIGHT NOW.

Those green eyes were still on him. “It’s…I don’t know. Kind of boring, really. I miss Ponyville. I miss you.” Crap. Did I just say that?

Big Macintosh looked surprised. Caramel realized that might have been the first time he had ever seen that expression on his face. The big red pony finished his cider and set the bottle down on the bar in front of him, swallowing hard. “I reckon I’ve missed you too, Caramel. Applejack made fun of me for it, but I know she’s smarter than she looks like. She actually said…” He trailed off. He was staring very hard into the distance again.

I’m supposed to say something here. But what? Caramel noticed that he had stopped breathing. Can’t I just skip forward to the part where I spend hours obsessing over this conversation? Why do I have to actually HAVE it first?

Big Macintosh coughed and shook his head, focusing again on the pony beside him again. “I’m gonna grab another cider. You want anything?”

That’s kind of a big question. “No, thanks.”

Caramel was standing guard over nothing again.

Big Macintosh and his sister had gone back to Ponyville a while ago, leaving him with only his thoughts and dozens of horny guards for company. This might be the closest to comfortable that Caramel had ever gotten. He was free to think about his crush for hours at a time, turning things over and over in his head, berating himself for being an idiot, and incapable of doing anything about it.

Had Big Macintosh really been close to…saying something? He’d analyzed every word of the conversation dozens of times, from a safe distance, and was no closer to an answer. Then again, it’s not like he’d really do anything about it if he did get his answer. And even if he did, and even if everything turned out just like he hoped, there’s no way he’d actually be able to keep it up for very long before everything went wrong. The only safe thing was to stand here at his guard post, keeping it all in his head, where he could control it.

This is really the perfect job for me, he realized.