Fluttershy woke suddenly with a gasp. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she was out of breath, the dream still fresh in her mind.

She had been standing in darkness, alone, and no matter where she ran, only more and more darkness greeted her. When she heard a snarl and turned to see two pairs of glowing blue eyes penetrating the blackness, she awoke.

“It was just a dream,” she tried to tell herself, but it felt so real when it had been happening, and no matter what she tried to think, she felt afraid.

She looked outside; it was still night, the moon hiding its face with a shadowy veil of clouds. She rolled over, trying to get comfortable again, the nightmare still lingering.

No matter what she thought of, her animals, her friends, even light, her mind kept involuntarily returning to the darkness and fear of the nightmare. It was more than just a dream; it felt almost like a memory.

A new feeling came over her when she looked outside a second time; a feeling like something was watching her. Chills ran down her spine, and she began scanning the evanescent world beyond the glass, checking the tree line for any movement. She saw nothing, and began to panic, but then she realized something; Clyde.

The feeling could be from him; it had to be. He watched over the citizens of Ponyville every night, especially her and the other elements of harmony. It made sense that the feeling was from him watching her, and she began to feel less afraid; her nightmares were scary, but she knew she had nothing to fear as long as the Guardian was around.
Her head gently fell onto her pillow, and she found solace under the stars again, waiting on the coming of dawn.

Morning came swiftly, the cold of dawn chilling the air of the serene kingdom. As quickly as it came, the gilded sun replaced the luminous moon in the sky, and the sweetness of morning came to be.

Fluttershy awoke with the sun and opened the window, letting all the qualities of the morning fill her home. She first prepared herself for the day, and then her home for company. Clyde was coming over; she said she would remove his stitches, and today was the date they set.

She quickly made her cottage’s interior as clean as possible, and as she filled each of her animals’ bowls with breakfast, a knock reverberated through the house.

“Come in!” she tried to shout, but her call only held the energy of a bird’s relaxing song.

Clyde entered the home as she came out of the kitchen, the last of her pets being fed. She flipped back her hair as she came into the living room, and saw Clyde’s body, his face concealed by a bouquet of flowers; yellow roses to be exact.

“A token of my thanks,” he explained as he offered her the flowers, “seeing how you like them so much.”

“They’re beautiful! Thank you Clyde.”

He answered only with a smile, and the two found themselves in a moment of awkward silence, neither knowing quite what to say. One stood confidently upright, waiting to be spoken to, while the other relished in the scent of the roses while coyly trying to think of any good lines. Fluttershy’s mind drew on a blank, and she just stood there for a short while, flowers in hoof.

“So,” she started, “Your…um… stitches.”

“Uh, right,” he said as he followed her towards the centerpiece of the living room, a large sofa.

“So, um, why don’t you sit here while I go get some things.”

Clyde did as he was told as the yellow mare floated into the other room, returning shortly clutching a disassembling first aid kit in her forelimbs.

She set the supplies on the table adjacent the couch.

“Are you ready?”

His head bobbed up and down slowly.

Fluttershy took a pair of scissors and carefully moved them closer to Clyde’s breast. He sat erect and held his breath as she did so, so that his chest was now even with her eyes. Slowly, she cut the knotted end of one of the lines, and Clyde watched as she pulled the black thread out through his skin gingerly.

As she worked, she began a conversation.

“I felt you watching me last night,” she said smiling.

“Really? At what time?”

“Around 3 in the morning.”

Clyde looked down at her, perplexed. At midnight he had stopped watching the ponies in his region, and began patrolling the region for danger personally. After all, the ponies had all gone to sleep, and he didn’t need to keep an eye on them any longer, as they were all in their homes and would be for the rest of the night. Whatever was watching Fluttershy wasn’t him, but he didn’t dare tell her that; it would only scare her. So, he put on his best poker face, hoping she wouldn’t bring it up again. She didn’t.

“So, are you liking Ponyville?”

“Yes,” responded the patient.

“You haven’t told me much about where you came from before.”

“I didn’t have a home before. I travelled all over on deployments with the 11th.”

“Did you have any other friends?”

“In the Cavalry I did,” said Clyde, “it feels like I haven’t talked to them in ages. I’ll have to catch up at the ball. I’m just glad to have some friends here.”

He smiled down at her as she finished removing the first line of stitches.

“Do you remember much about that day?” said Fluttershy as she began weaving the second line of thread out of his skin, “The day you got these?”

“A little bit,” he began slowly, looking up from his chest, “I recall…watching you all set up the picnic…seeing something in the trees, realizing what it was, and then flying to you as fast as I could. It felt like I was going in slow motion…I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.”

“When I first saw you with my own eyes instead of with the sight, the manticore had just hit Dash, and I remember thinking to myself ‘Please, take me instead of them.’”

Fluttershy stopped working at the stitches and turned her attention to her friend, who was still staring into a space beyond the confines of her home.

“I remember ramming him, but nothing of the fight. What happened?” he looked back to her, and his advocate continued working, mostly to avoid eye contact.

“Well… you kept yourself between us and the manticore. When you talked, it wasn’t like your normal voice; you sounded serious, almost angry. You told us to go, and that you would protect us while we escaped,” she nodded a bit, recalling details and images of that day, “When the manticore attacked, you lured him away from us, and that’s when I stopped to help Rainbow.”

A hint of fear invaded her voice as she continued.

“I saw it when he hit you. I cried out to you, but you yelled for me to run away and leave you behind. I was so scared for you, Clyde. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Me too,” he said, their voices holding the same tone.

“Do you remember anything from the hospital?” she asked, hinting at the existence of the note she left.

“Only thoughts; I kept having nightmares. I could see everything; ponies, places, you. But I couldn’t reach out to touch it. It was like being on the other side of a mirror, and I wondered if I would ever feel anything again. Looking back on it, I must have dreamt that dream for the first two days.”

Fluttershy pulled the last of the thread from the second of the gashes in his chest as he finished. She looked up again as she coiled the black thread, seeing Clyde’s somewhat sorrowful expression. Slowly, he continued.

“On what would’ve been the third day I had a different dream. I could see myself on the hospital bed; I was standing next to myself. It was like I was somepony else; I didn’t really realize that it was me on the bed until later.” The warrior looked straight ahead of him.

“It was night, the door opened slowly, and this pony in a black cloak came into the room… he made no noise. He came up to the other side of the bed and looked down at my body for a while, which wasn’t breathing. He reached down and started to pull off the sheet.”

He looked down at Fluttershy, who had forgotten about his chest and was wholly captivated by his story; she looked like a filly listening to a ghost tale.

“I told him to stop and he dropped the sheet, like he was surprised I was there. He just stared at me, but I couldn’t see his face. I asked him who he was, but he just pulled his hood down even farther. I asked him what he was doing, and he turned away. Then he looked down at the letter on my bedside.”

Fluttershy perked up slightly at the mention of the note.

“He brushed the rose on top of it away and it withered up. He picked up the letter and read it, putting it back the way it was when he finished. Then, he pulled the sheet back up over my body, like he was tucking in a foal for bed.”

Clyde diverted his gaze to his quiet friend, who held a hoof over her mouth as she listened, both fascinated and terrified.

“Then, he stared at me for what seemed like an hour. It was like looking into the face of a shadow; he had no eyes, no mouth, no visible face, just a void beneath the hood. Suddenly, he grabbed me; not the body on the bed, but me, at least, the me in the dream. He pulled me across the bed, very close to him, he leaned into my ear, and he whispered something. I still haven’t figured out what he meant.”

He paused for a few moments, and Fluttershy waited for him to say what was said; he never did.

“Then he grabbed my hoof, and made me touch my body on the bed; when I did, I woke up. The doctor was there and it was just after sunset. He told me what happened, how you all helped me to the hospital, and that the operation had saved me. They told me that the poison was still in me and that they wouldn’t be able to ever fully remove it, but that it wasn’t spreading, and that I would have to stay in the hospital for a while; I left the next morning.”

Were you afraid?” Fluttershy asked meekly.

"Of what?”

“You did all those things, fought the manticore, had nightmares; even in the past you fought in battles and got hurt really badly. Were you ever scared?”

“Well of course.” he said, much to the surprise of his smaller friend.

She took him to be fearless up to now, and had only seeking confirmation.

“But then, how are you so brave?”

Clyde sighed and said, “Bravery doesn’t mean that you’re not afraid; it means doing what you have to do even though you are.”

He looked away for a bit, saying “I’m not as brave as you think I am.”

“You’re the bravest pony I know,” she said reassuringly, and she grabbed the scissors to begin working on the third line of stitches.

As she cut and began unweaving, Clyde grabbed a single rose from the bouquet sitting on the table next to him and held it in between his hooves while the yellow mare’s eyes and tender hooves were occupied. He waited for her to finish in silence, and when she pulled the last inches of string from his skin, he turned her chin towards him, placing the rose behind her ear.

“Thank you," he said as he leaned in a little closer.

She closed her eyes and her breathing quickened, waiting for him to kiss her. She felt his breath on her face, but all she received was a weak hug. She pulled away and looked up into his verdant eyes; they weren't smiling like the rest of his face. It was like he was hiding something, and Fluttershy couldn't figure out what.

“Wait,” started Fluttershy before he reached the door, “I need to ask you something.”

She needed to know if she had a chance with him, if she was wasting her time and her dreams on him, or if there really was something between them.

“Anything,” he answered.

“It’s just,” the words were in her throat, but she couldn’t seem to get the question to come out. She wanted with every bone in her body to ask him what he thought of her, if it was the same way she thought of him, but couldn’t. After nearly a minute, she gave up.

“I just wanted to say thanks for the flowers.”

She feigned a smile, and Clyde’s keen wit picked up what she was really trying to ask.

He pretended not to, and only said through a smile, “You’re welcome.”

As he leaned against the wood of the door, he turned and said, “Until next time,” and then left, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her animals for company.

Clyde regretted leaving so suddenly. He himself had begun to question what his priorities were. He was here to protect these mares, not fall in love with them. He had a job to do, and his stupid emotions kept getting in the way of it. Were circumstances different, he would have stayed at that cottage until Fluttershy kicked him out. But, the circumstances were as they were, and it would be irresponsible for him to get caught up a relationship, no matter how much he wanted one.

Regardless, he couldn't change the situation, however much he wanted to. Besides, he had to do some things before the ball. After all, with Celestia and Luna’s search set to commence the day after next, it was uncertain how long Equestria would be at peace. He wanted to be remembered for some things in case it went badly, and so he made his way into town.

He was in the town square when he heard a feminine voice call his name.

“Clyde, there you are!”

He turned to see Rarity trotting in his direction.

She flicked her curled mane as she reached him, but then seized him in a blue aura and began to lead him in the opposite direction he wanted to go.

“I need you for something,” she said as Clyde felt his dragging hooves being lifted off the ground in her magic.

“For what?” he asked, frustrated by his inability to move on his own.

“I need your body.”

Clyde began to panic, unsure what she meant, and fearing what he assumed she was leading him to. His eyes were still free to move, unlike the rest of his body, and he saw several ponies gawking at the spectacle of such an obviously masculine stallion being manhandled by an established prissy mare.

She levitated him to her boutique, pushing through the door with the stallion floating in behind. Once inside, she released him, and he fell a few feet to the ground, landing very uncharacteristically clumsily.

He picked himself up, and in clear exasperation, shouted, “What is this all about?”

“Sorry dear, but nopony else would do; I absolutely need you for this,” she explained as she began trotting around and levitating various fabrics and tools across the room.

“For what?” he asked as she lead him by his front leg onto a small pedestal in the center of the room.

“I’m releasing a new line of stallion’s clothing, a very specific size range, and I need you to model while I finish up these last few designs.”

“What’s the size range?” he asked, partially from curiosity but mostly from confusion.

“Big and tall,” she said matter-of-factly as she selected a large square of blue cloth from her expansive inventory.

“Are you sure there’s nopony else that can do for this?” he said with a sigh.

“You’re it. Please Clyde, I need to get this done as soon as possible. The dead line for this line is three days from now and I’d rather spend the next day’s time making the dresses for the ball.”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.

Rarity smiled, levitated her red rimmed glasses to her snout as well as an outfit draped over a mannequin in her inspiration room, and began working. She dressed him in a vibrant blue coat and fancy blouse with her magic, and stepped back; the outfit was blatantly small. Clyde was having trouble breathing and it squeezed his wings into his ribcage, his skin and muscle being pressed together in the tight clothes.

“Oh dear,” she said, and began tailoring the clothes to fit his size, “Sorry Clyde, but I’ve had to fit these clothes to ponies of, well… average size.”

“It’s fine,” he wheezed.

Eventually she loosened the bonds enough for the large pegasus to breathe normally, and she began stitching the pieces of the outfit together to fit comfortably around his body.

“Ow,” he said suddenly, flinching a bit, “You keep getting me with the needle. I just got stitches out, I don’t want any more.”

Sorry dear, but It’s hard not to with your muscles being so...well, big,” she flamboyantly gestured with outstretched forearms as she finished, “It would be easier if you would stop fidgeting around so much.”

As she said this, he felt her hoof on his chest, and she leaned in on him; he would have looked her in the eye, but he wasn’t allowed to, as that could be classified as fidgeting. Besides, she was in his blind spot anyway, adjacent to his ribcage, her head barely clearing the top of his back.

“Is she working or flirting?” he thought to himself.

He felt her hoof slide down his chest and onto his forelimb, and she put a little more of her weight on him.

“Flirting,” he concluded, but his theory was rebutted by the sudden prick in his side, No, she’s still working. Wait, she’s doing both at once. Now is that a talent or a problem?”

Again, her hoof slid back farther, this time to his lower ribcage, and he decided it was a problem, most of the time.

“Why is she so direct? The first time we met on she was like this too. I guess that’s what the stallions around here fall for?”

He felt the needle touch a few hairs on his side as she continued sewing, and her hoof slid back a bit farther. She apparently finished whatever she was doing, because he stopped feeling disturbances on his hide, and her hoof came off of his oblique.

She then continued the same process on the other side.

“Maybe it’s involuntary? She probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it; or it’s just for fun. That’d be a sick joke to pull on some love-sick colt.”

She quickly finished mending the outfit to his size, undressing him with a glowing horn in preparation for the next piece. She levitated the next outfit she needed to adjust out of the wardrobe.

It was a handsome tuxedo with an elegant twist. The collar was studded with gems and the jacket and vest were white instead of the traditional shade of black.

“It looks nice,” he complimented sincerely as she examined the spotless fabric.

“Thank you dear,” she said, shooting him a confident smile, “Now, let’s get you into it.”

Clyde, not allowed to fidget, stood like a statue as the alabaster mare dressed him in the clothes. She fit the shirt, vest and jacket over his thick frame without buttoning them. Once confident the apparel sat on Clyde’s body properly, she inspected the fabric to make sure it would be the right length. As she orbited him, he stood still, but tried to start a conversation to create some noise in the room other than the designer’s hoof falls.

“Looking forward to the ball?” he asked.

“Oh yes. I’m so glad you invited us; I’m just a bit worried about a few in our group,” she answered.

“Who?”

“Well,” she explained while continuing her work, measuring and adjusting the clothing on her mannequin, “Dash, Pinkie and I have no trouble being social, and I’m sure Twilight will head straight for the princesses once we get there, but Applejack, Spike and Fluttershy can be a bit reserved among strangers. It’s just that it can take a while to earn A.J.’s trust, and Spike normally isn’t shy, but he can be intimidated fairly easily.”

“And Fluttershy’s…afraid?” prepositioned Clyde.

“More timid, I’d say.”

“She almost broke into tears just thinking about going. I see more than you all think from that mountain; she’s terrified of anything new.”

“Except you,” hastily replied Rarity.

“Well, yes, but that’s because she knows I’m here to protect all of you; she doesn’t know anypony that’ll be at this party or how they’ll treat her, and I know that’s a source of fear for everypony, but especially to her.”

“You’re right,” agreed the mare as she fetched different samples of cloth and held them up against the suit’s coat to compare colors, “it very well could be that she feels safe with you. And you’re right, she has had some…less than desirable experiences with others, but I think she agreed to go because she knows you’ll be there. She has nothing to fear while you’re around.”

I don’t know about that,” he said solemnly, looking down at what he could see of his freshest trio of scars.

“Then again,” began Rarity a second time, “it could be something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, needless to say, you’ve been turning heads ever since you came; I’ve seen plenty of fussing whenever you walk by a group of mares, even among the six of us,” she said playfully.

“Huh,” he said, coming to grips with what she was trying to convey, “I guess I never noticed.”

“So you don’t have one?” inquired Rarity.

“What?”

“A very special somepony,” she cooed in a comical change of voice, her eyebrows drawing up as she did.

The response came in the form of a shaking head.

Suddenly, the session was interrupted by the bell’s announcing of a visitor. A quick burst of high-pitched laughter revealed the newcomer; Pinkie Pie.

She couldn’t help but giggle at the Guardian’s demotion to a model, and her chuckling grew into a belly laugh when Clyde’s cheeks turned red.

She rolled on the floor at the warrior’s feminine moment, and as she trotted out, Clyde swore he heard her say, “Wait ‘til the others see this.”

“Don’t mind her,” said Rarity, trying to reassure the stallion, “this will get you mostly respect in the town, at least from the mares.” She jokingly flicked her mane and added another level of theatricality to her accent, “Mares like a stallion with a bit of a sensitive side. After all, it can be hard to relate to a heartless machine like some soldiers are.”

The two both laughed, and Rarity continued her work. She decided to fully adorn her model in the outfit, and began to fasten the shirt’s buttons with her magic, but didn’t get past the collar. The second button down wouldn’t slip in through the button-hole, and she reverted to manually securing her creation. She glared in concentration and leaned on Clyde slightly as she reached across his broad chest for the button, but Clyde wasn’t ready.

Not expecting her weight added to his, he stepped back to take a wider stance, but his hoof overshot the perimeter of the pedestal. He slipped and fell, as did Rarity. Clyde rolled off the platform, landing on his back amidst pieces of cut fabric, and heaved when he felt something heavy land on his stomach. He looked up into the wincing face of Rarity; she had fallen on top of him, her legs on either side of his body and her stomach against his. Then, the doorbell rang again.

The two looked to the open doorway; Clyde straining his neck and Rarity propping herself up slightly with her forelimbs. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash stood shoulder to shoulder just inside the entrance.

Dash looked at the two ponies in the awkwardly compromising position, and her eyes grew large in surprise and shame. Her friend was on the floor straddling Clyde, practically dominating him, and his shirt was in the process of being unbuttoned, so it seemed.

The colorful mare quickly turned to leave, saying, “What makes you think that’s funny Pinkie?”

“Hey, it wasn’t like that a few minutes ago."

Rarity and Clyde exchanged a quick glance, and simultaneously realized how they appeared. She quickly stood up off of him while Clyde rolled onto his stomach and hastily ascended from the floor.

“Wait! It’s not what you think,” shouted Rarity, her white face shifting instantaneously to red. When the others turned around, she explained what happened.

“Uh-huh, sure,” said the blue pegasus sarcastically.

“No really; you just had bad timing is all,” Rarity tried to explain.

The two seemed to believe her, and they came back into the room, which was filled with a very awkward silence.

“So…um, shall we continue?” Rarity petitioned as she levitated a new outfit towards her model, who had retaken his place on the pedestal.

This outfit was much more conservative; it was a white garment with a grey overcoat, complete with a grey cap as an accessory. As she dressed her living mannequin, Clyde noticed that it fit much better than the previous outfits, and that he was very fond of it; it was light and comfortable, it had holes behind the shoulders to comfortably accommodate his wings, and the color scheme fit his taste very well. But, he dared not say anything while the needle-wielding equine diligently worked, adjusting the acute details of the suit to fit his size and shape perfectly.

As she was finishing her work on the outfit, a tomboyish voice from the side of the room jokingly asked, “How’d you get him to model for you?”

“I didn’t really give him a choice,” she answered, a guilty giggle coming forth.

She stepped away from Clyde as she finished, and he said, “I would have come on my own if you hadn’t literally carried me here.”

“Really? Why?” asked Pinkie Pie, obviously surprised.

“A friend in need,” he answered.

The seamstress finished securing the outfit on her model and stepped back.

“Doesn’t look too bad on him,” said Dash shrugging a bit.

“Of course it looks good on him Dashie, Rarity made it,” chimed Pinkie Pie.

Rarity, still focused on her work, asked, “Could you walk around a bit for me?”

He did as she asked, looking to her for approval as he did; she gestured for him to keep going, and said, “Keep your chin up and your shoulders cocked.”

He followed her instructions, and the two mares standing to the side giggled a bit at the normally masculine pegasus prancing around the boutique, gracefully high-stepping like a show horse.

Rarity couldn’t help but remember Twilight’s theory about his multiple personalities, and thought, "Maybe I just found his feminine side.”

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I like it,” he said as he completed his second lap around the boutique’s interior, slightly disturbing the cat on the following pass, “How much does this outfit cost?”

“50 bits."

“I’d like to order one,” he began counting, pawing the ground in a rhythmic fashion, “When do you ship these?”

“In a few days; I’m not really certain of the exact date, it can change any time.”

“Well when you do, can you save one for me? I’ll pay you when they’re ready.”

“Uh…sure,” she stammered, surprised that he actually had taken an interest in her passion, which was universally regarded as a prissy subject.

Clyde walked back to the pedestal in the center of the room, signifying that he was ready for whatever was next. The white mare followed, brushing a strand of her deep purple mane away from her face before her horn began to glow. The outfit came off smoothly without even a single stitch being disturbed.

Rarity just stood in place after removing the clothing, and he asked, “Anything else?”

She shook her head ‘no’, and neatly folded the grey overcoat and white shirt, stacking them and placing the cap over their top, replacing it in a storage compartment on the far end of the boutique. She trotted back to face him, barely coming up to the base of his neck, and thanked him.

Clyde nodded, smiling slightly, and then turned for the door.

Before he left, he turned and slightly bowed to all present, and in his sweet, smooth voice, crooned, “Until next time.”

Rarity and the others moved closer together as he left, watching the muscles in his flanks and shoulders flex with every step he took. In between the bell ringing and the door closing, he looked back over his shoulder, as if to let them know he knew they were watching.

As the door clicked shut, Rarity leaned to her friends, and cheerfully said, “I’m glad we met him.”

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the library. He knocked, firmly, but in a way that was somehow docile, and then waited to be let in. A few seconds passed before the tree opened from within. A lavender unicorn stood in the doorway, surprised but happy to see him.

“Oh, hey Clyde. What can I do for you?”

“I was just wondering,” he explained, “if you had a book I’m looking for.”

“Well, I can check.” She turned inwards to her expansive bookshelves, and the grey stallion followed, “What kind of book is it?”

The pegasus went off on his own, and asked, “Where’s the classical literature section?”

“Uh…right over here.” She motioned to a heavily stocked collection of shelves, and Clyde moved closer to search.

He hovered up to the highest archives, deliberately reading each spine of each text on each shelf until he finally selected one.

He pulled a thick leather bound book from the second highest shelf, and returned to the floor with it. He brought the hardcover to the librarian, and asked if he could check it out.

"Sure, take it.”

She tilted her head to read the book’s cover; A Collection of Poetry Through the Ages.

“I didn’t know you were into poetry?” she inquired.

“Neither did I.”

The stallion made his way back to the door, but not before he stopped, having eyed a hardcover copy of some sort. He grabbed the book, held it up, and said, “This one too.”

This book’s cover read The Chronicles of the Northern Wars. Twilight nodded.

He shot a smile back to her, genuflected a bit, and uttered his usual farewell, “Until next time.”

Then, he took off for the mountains, leaving her alone and somewhat confused.