The rising sun would not be denied. He rolled over and tugged the blanket over his head with a muttered curse as he tried to escape those blinding shafts of light that were beginning to filter into his snug, warm sanctuary. Just a few minutes more. He could surely get a few minutes more slee-- The crowing of the rooster split the air and Mourne sighed, pulling the blanket back down before pushing it aside and rolling out of his cot, hooves thumping down onto the floor of the hayloft he now called home. He smacked his lips, running his tongue over his teeth before grabbing for the mug he’d left by the bed the night before and quickly washing his mouth out with the stale water.

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed he glanced out the window that looked over Sweet Apple Acres, rubbing absently at a sore spot on his shoulder where the edge of his wooden cot had dug in. They meant well, but this bed just wasn’t designed for a pony with wings. Looking out over the grounds he caught sight of a familiar hat just before it disappeared around a corner. Applejack was already tending to her morning chores and if she was up and about then that meant the rest of the Apples would be up as well. How she managed to be so cheerful this early in the morning he would never know. It had been a month now since his assignment here and he still wasn’t used to getting up this early in the morning.

Wincing as he leaned over and into the full glare of the rising sun, Mourne stifled an angry hiss, his ears pinning back as he dove under the bed for the darkened lenses he was forced to wear on his face during the daytime. Dammit, where were they? Ah! Sighing in relief he slipped them on, hooking them somewhat awkwardly into place and giving a flick of his ears to settle them so they were just right.

“Mister Mourne? You up yet? Yoohoo, Mister Scary Batpony!”

He couldn’t quite keep a shudder from running down his spine at that high-pitched voice. Applebloom.

At least she wasn’t too intolerable when she was alone, but when those other two were with her...he’d swiftly learned not to involve himself in any of their so-called ‘crusades’. It had taken a week for the scorch marks on his behind to fade from his one and only attempt to help them in this apparently relentless pursuit of cutie marks. He would never understand how such obviously intelligent and resourceful fillies could ignore what was so blatantly right under their noses if they only took the time to think about it.

“Mister Mourne?”

“I’m awake, Applebloom,” he sighed at last. “You can come in.”

The door to the barn creaked open and the little filly trotted in, a bright smile on her face. Balanced nimbly on her back was a tray supporting a bowl of oatmeal and a small jug of syrup. “Ah brought you breakfast. Applejack figured you wouldn’t be eating with us again.”

“She figured correctly,” he replied as he spread his leathery wings and swooped down from the hayloft to land near-silently in front of the wide-eyed filly. “I prefer to eat alone.”

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes widening further as she pointed a hoof at his side. “What did THAT?”

He blinked, then cursed silently to himself. She’d never seen him without the armour on. He turned his head to look back at the three long, angry scars that ran along the length of his left flank, barely missing the base of his wing by a feather-width. Tucking his wing down to cover the scars he frowned as he looked down at those big, eager eyes. “An accident on my first mission,” he growled, hoping that would be answer enough for her. It wasn’t, of course, those wide eyes getting even wider as she slipped the tray from her back and set it on a nearby hay bale before sitting down, silently begging to hear the rest of the story.

He managed not to sigh out loud. Well, there was nothing for it now. The sooner the story was over and done with, the sooner he could eat breakfast. “One of my first missions with the Night Guard was to do a sweep of a mountain pass, looking for a missing trader and his caravan. I found them cornered in a cave by a manticore. They’d managed to use their carts to block the cave entrance and keep it out but they were trapped inside.”

Applebloom gasped. “Oh wow. I’ve heard Fluttershy talk about manticores before, she’s friends with one, actually! Well, kind of. She stopped it eating Rarity once and now she says he comes to visit her sometimes.”

Mourne blinked, then shrugged. Well, all things considered that was one of the less odd things he’d heard since arriving here. “So, being young and foolish and full of myself, I didn’t do the smart thing and go for help. Instead I charged the manticore in the name of Princess Luna and my very first mission almost became my last mission. It became obvious in moments that he was not only bigger than I was, but a lot stronger too. The only advantage I had was that I was faster than him and I had my armour to help protect me. It was a hard fight, but in the end I was able to drive it away. I convinced it that the traders weren’t worth the hassle of getting past me, but he gave me a good mark to remember him by.” He shifted his wing again to briefly display the long scars. Applebloom leaned in to get a better look at them, a little shiver running through her. He’d been in the infirmary for nearly two weeks while they healed up and another two weeks on light duty after that. They’d cut closer and deeper than he would ever admit. “It’s not something I’m proud of, Applebloom. It was a painful lesson I learned then. I’d been a fool to start that fight.”

This was most definitely the abridged version of the story. He didn’t think he felt the need to detail how he’d worn the manticore down with cut after cut, darting in to slash with his wing blades before dodging away. The ponies in the cave had cheered him on until they saw the manticore get in a blow solid enough to rip his armour off and send him sprawling with three long, bloody slashes down his flank. Only sheer instinct and ingrained reflexes had saved him, he’d been so dazed he could barely see straight. The manticore had closed in for the kill, only to receive two armoured hooves smashing into its muzzle as he’d bucked out instinctively. That had finally been enough to convince it that this particular prey simply wasn’t worth the effort.

“But...the ponies in stories, the heroes, they all have scars!” she protested. “They earned them honourably in battle!” She reared to her hind legs, dancing back as she jabbed her forehooves at an invisible opponent. “All the fighting and glory and honour and stuff! Isn’t that why folks join the Guard? T’fight in awesome battles?”

Mourne sighed softly and shook his head. This little filly had most definitely been hanging around that pegasus, Scootaloo, far too much. That was the sort of thing he’d have expected her to come out with. “No, Applebloom. Ponies who join the Guards just to fight in “glorious battles” usually...well, let’s just say it doesn’t end well for them. There’s a saying, you know. There are old guards and there are bold guards, but there are no old bold guards.”

Applebloom frowned, her ears splaying out in confusion. “So, but, why’d ya become a guard then if not for the fightin’?” she asked, her brow furrowed and an innocent look of curiosity on her face.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again just as quickly. Foal or not, she’d asked a serious question so she deserved a meaningful answer. Why had he become a member of the Night Guard? Contrary to popular belief it was by no means mandatory that batponies had to sign up for military service. Before Luna’s return they were little more than a ceremonial guard with no real duties to speak of, little better than living gargoyles. He’d signed up knowing that, knowing that all that waited for him were years of tedium and empty ceremony. Why had he done that?

“For a chance to help my fellow ponies,” he whispered at last, mostly to himself. “I joined, even before the Mistress had returned from exile, even when we were little better than curiosities for tourists to gawk at, because I wanted to serve. I wanted a chance to make Equestria a better, safer place. There are things in the darkness and the night, Applebloom, and little ponies like yourself need to be protected from them. That’s what the Night Guard does. The Solar Guard is the shield of Equestria, the Night Guard are the blade. We don’t do it for glory, riches or recognition, we don’t seek out battle but nor do we shun it when it comes. We do what we do to protect all the ponies of Equestria, we do it for our Mistress, Princess Luna. We serve in her name.”

He cleared his throat, glancing awkwardly off to one side before he hastily picked up his breakfast and began eating. Applebloom was still staring at him, but now that look of awe was replaced with something more thoughtful. “You fight so mah brother doesn’t need to. That’s why you’re here, ain’t it?”

He nodded slowly. “In part, yes. By being involved with the Mistress, McIntosh Apple is now--” he broke off before he could use the words ‘a target’. He didn’t need to go frightening her. “McIntosh is an important pony now and that changes a lot of things. He needs somepony else to help take care of him and advise him on all the things he needs to know.”

“But you fought with him when ya first got here, didn’t you?” she asked in that guileless way all children seemed to have when asking the most awkward of questions.

Mourne winced. Well, there it was out in the open. He was surprised she hadn’t asked him about that before now. “Yes, that’s true. I fought your brother, I hurt him too. But the truth is that I was wrong. Things were...twisted in my head. I thought I was protecting Luna when the truth was that I should have been protecting him.”

There was a loud, amused snort from the open barn door. “Well, took ya long enough t’realise that. Shame yer little revelation couldn’t come before ya gave me a fine set o’bruises.”

Applebloom smiled brightly as the big red stallion pushed the door further open. “Mornin’ Big Mac! Mourne was just tellin’ me all about being one o’the guards.”

“So ah heard,” Mac’s tone was mild, but the look he gave Mourne was a thankful one. “He’s right, ya know. Scars and battles, they ain’t somethin’ any pony should go chasin’ after, not ‘less they want t’come to a bad end. That’s the bit the storybooks always leave out.”

“I guess,” she sighed. “The stories just always make it sound so amazing!”

“Eeeyup, they do, but that’s because they’re just stories. Anyhow, you run along now, Applebloom. Ah need t’talk to Mourne about what we’re doin’ today.”

“Sure thing, Mac. G’bye Mister Mourne! See you for dinner, maybe!” She galloped off without backwards glance.

Mourne finished his oatmeal and set the bowl aside, looking Mac over. “So, farmer, what will you have me do today?”

“What Luna sent ya here for. Ah’ll be takin’ the cart into market today to set up. Ah could do with the company, and a helpin’ hoof with loadin’ and setting up. Ya up for it? Already checked an’ AJ ain’t got nothin’ in particular for ya, so ya might as well come escort me, get the fine folks in Ponyville used tah seein’ you.”

Mourne sighed, loudly. “You know the pink one will insist on badgering me.”

"Pinkie don’t mean nothin’ by it. It’s just her way. Y’all are new to Ponyville, ya should just give in and let her throw the welcome party.” Mac chuckled.

“I have no intention of staying here, any party would be a waste of time.” Mourne growled as he leapt back up to the hayloft to pull on his armour. “I do not need a party, nor do I need to be friends with the citizens of Ponyville in order to do my job.”

“Funny, Princess Twilight felt pretty much the same when she was sent here too. Girl had her nose buried so far in books she thought she didn’t need anypony else. Couldn’t wait to shake the dust o’Ponyville off her hooves and get back t’the bright lights o’Canterlot. At first.” Mac shrugged and turned back to the door. “Pinkie ain’t gonna stop chasin’ till ya let her throw that party. Ya might as well just give in and get it over with. Ah can ask her t’keep the guest list small if it’ll make ya feel better.”

"Like many ponies would come to it anyway,” he snapped. “Oh, a party for Mourne? You know, the batpony who threw McIntosh Apple off a roof and nearly brought about the second coming of Nightmare Moon. That sounds like someone I want to be friends with!”

Mac paused a moment, glancing back at Mourne. He’d grown accustomed to the batpony’s bluster in the weeks they’d been together but this time there was something else there. Was that a trace of self-loathing for a moment? That’d certainly explain a lot. “We all make mistakes, Mourne. Ponyville’s a funny place like that, though. Got some of the most forgiving ponies y’ll ever meet. Won’t make a lick o’difference, though, if y’ain’t willing to give yerself a chance t’begin with.” He pointed a hoof at him. “Ya done bucked up, that’s a fact. Ya bucked up good and proper, but lockin’ yerself away in here every day ain’t moving forward, it’s just running away. It’s burying yer head in the sand and it ain’t what Luna wants for you.”

“And you know this, do you?” Mourne landed in front of him with a clink of armour, his head lifted defiantly, eyes hidden behind the smoked lenses he always wore during the day.

“Eeeyup,” Mac slowly replied. “Ah do.”

Mourne snorted and pushed past him, flinching a little at the sunlight. Batponies simply weren’t built for the daytime, there was no getting around it, but he would do his duty all the same. “Come on then. Show me this cart.”

By lunchtime Mac had to admit that sales were definitely down. They still had more than half their stock left and that wasn’t right at all. Even on their worst days they should have be able to sell more than this and Mac was fairly certain he knew why. Mourne had spent the entire morning standing rigidly at the other end of the stall with a scowl on his muzzle, glaring at any pony who dared to approach.

Finally Mac sighed and shook his head. “Okay, this ain’t gonna work. Ye’re scarin’ off half the customers. Not everypony that walks up here is some sorta assassin or murderer but ye’re glarin’ at every one o’em like they’re hidin’ a knife.”

“I am simply ensuring that everypony here understands that you are under my protection.” Mourne growled, his posture unchanging. “That is my primary responsibility.”

Mac resisted the urge to slam his hoof into his face. “ This ain’t Canterlot, Mourne. It’s Ponyville. Ah know almost everypony here and ah’m pretty certain none of’em want me dead. Look, ya know what, it’s lunchtime. Why dontcha go to Sugarcube Corner and get us a bite t’eat. Ah’ll see if ah can’t sell a bit more before we call it a day.”

“I can’t protect you if I’m fetching lunch,” Mourne pointed out. “Nor do I recall signing up as a food delivery pony.”

Mac sighed, loudly. Well, being nice wasn’t working out so...no more carrot, time for a bit of stick instead. “Okay, lemme make this clear. Go get lunch, Mourne. Ye’re here t’do as we say and right now ah’m tellin’ ya to go get us somethin’ to eat. Ye’re costin’ the farm money every minute you’re standin’ there giving honest ponies the stinkeye. Ah can’t have ya scarin’ off all our customers.”

Mourne gritted his teeth, but he’d been given a clear order so he didn’t protest. Instead he slammed his hoof loudly to his metal breastplate in salute and stalked off down the street without a backward glance. Mac waited till he was out of earshot before sighing, loudly, and resting his head against the stall with a firm ‘thud’.

“That good, huh?”

“Ya have no idea.” He lifted his head and offered a faint smile to the familiar face of Twilight Sparkle. “Somethin’ ah can help ya with, Miss Twilight?”

“Oh, just a dozen apples, please. Spike’s got some new pie recipe he wants to try out tonight.” Her head turned, gaze lingering on the departing form of the bat pony. Even from here it was easy to see the anger in Mourne’s posture, in the stiff way he walked, head held so high you’d think there was a string holding it up. “He hasn’t relaxed at all, has he?”

“Eeenope. Stubborn and prideful as they come. Think it’s more than just pride, though.” He trailed off as he bagged up the apples for her. “Think he’s got a bit of a self-hatin’ thing going on. He don’t wanna be helped so he pushes everypony else away.”

“He still blames himself for what happened with, you know, you and him?” Twilight ventured.

“Mmm. He knows he done wrong with this whole thing, but there’s somethin’ more than that. Ain’t never met a soul so dead set on not lettin’ anyone get close to him. It’s like he’s just passin’ through. If he don’t make any connections then there ain’t nothin’ to keep him here.”

Twilight smiled a little. “I was much the same when I first came here, let’s not forget. I stepped off that chariot and I was already counting the minutes till I could go back to Canterlot.”

“That’s totally right! Twilight was a grumpy sourpants when she first arrived! She even bailed out on her own ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party!”

Mac was, once again, very proud that he managed to keep a straight face as Pinkie Pie apparently popped out from a hedge directly behind him. Twilight, on the other hand, squealed in fright, her mane poofing out in all directions. “Pinkie! How many times have I told you not to do that!”

Pinkie Pie grinned broadly, tapping her hoof to her chin. “Specifically about jumping out of hedges to frighten you or just frightening you in general as there’s a pretty big difference there. I’m sorry, Twilight, but I heard you talking about Mourne and I just had to come and say something! He’s even grumpier than Cranky Doodle was! He’s so grumpy I might even have to make up a new word to describe it! Cangrumperous? Churtetchish?”

“Pinkie…” Twilight sighed.

“No wait, I got it! Irriasciblecangrouchysourpusserous! Isn’t that just the best word you’ve everrrphmphle?”

Pinkie blinked as a lavender hoof was planted over her mouth, silencing her midway through a word. “We get it, Pinkie.” Twilight said as she removed her hoof. “And yes, you’re right, we were talking about Mourne. I don’t think Luna wanted him to be this miserable when he was out here. There has to be some way we can draw him out and get him talking to other…ponies....”

Twilight trailed off, staring as Pinkie puffed away on a bubble pipe, a thoughtful look on her face. “Ah yes, zis is a terrible malady that affects zis particular pony,” the party pony stated in an over the top accent that Mac could only assume was supposed to be Germaneic. “Zere is obviously zome deep rooted issue he must confront! Probably zomething to do with hiz muzzer.”

“Or his sister,” Mac added. “Luna didn’t give me all the details, weren’t her story to tell, but ah’m guessin’ it’s guilt over losin’ her that drives him. Guilt that he couldn’t help her, guilt that in tryin’ to make up for it, he nearly messed it all up with me’n’Luna instead. He’s guilty about a whole lotta stuff but he ain’t tryin’ to deal with it, he’s just tryin’ to ignore it.”

"Oooooohhhhh.” Pinkie puffed away on the pipe again, sending another cloud of bubbles dancing into the air. “Zere iz only one prescription for zis!”

“Let me guess,” Twilight deadpanned, “a par--”

“An intervention!”

Mac and Twilight blinked, exchanging worried glances. “An intervention? That don’t strike ya as a little much there, Pinkie?” Mac ventured.

“Not if the intervention is disguised as a party!” Pinkie went on, hopping in place as her gleeful smile got all the bigger. “We can invite everypony to come round and make sure he knows that we don’t all hate him for the silly things he’s done in the past. He’s in a new town now! A clean slate and all that, he doesn’t need to keep remembering all the icky stuff.”

“I’m not sure that’s really a good idea, Pinkie,” Twilight added. “Remember the first time you tried to put a party on for Mourne?”

“Oh Twilight, this time will be different! This time I won’t leap out on him from the shadows of a darkened room while yelling ‘Your time has come!’.” Pinkie paused, gave another puff on the pipe before tucking it behind her ear. “Iiiiinnnnnn retrospect, that probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had, but I thought it would get him to loosen up.”

“No parties, Pinkie, ah’m sorry. Not yet.” Mac shook his head as he turned back to the cart. “Little steps for now.” He paused and gently patted the party pony’s shoulder as she stared down the street, her mane losing a little of its lustre and springiness. “Some things need more than a party t’fix, Pinkie.”

“But,” Pinkie protested, “but they can help...right? They can let him know that we don’t hate him.”

Twilight looked puzzled. “Hate him? But we don’t hate him...do we?”

Mac shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if we don’t. He thinks we do. S’pect he’s too used to dealing with the ponies in Canterlot. You’d know better than most what that lot are like.”

“Oh,” said Twilight. “OH!” Her eyes widened and she nodded in understanding. “He’s used to dealing with ponies where social standing is everything, where every slight, perceived or otherwise, is used as ammunition in the game of court. I didn’t even think the Night Guard would be impacted by that, but think about it. Day in, day out, he sees the nobility and what they’re like. He probably doesn’t get a chance to mingle much with normal ponies outside of his job, with the lingering prejudice against Princess Luna, so he thinks that’s it, everypony must be like that!” Her face fell. “He thinks everypony must be like that...and that’s really quite sad. Maybe you’re right, Pinkie. Maybe we DO need to stage an intervention. We need to show him that we’re not like the nobles, that ponies here will give him a second chance.”

Pinkie was already hunched over her party cannon, a manic grin on her lips before Twilight had even finished talking. “Pinkie...what’s the cannon for?” Twilight ventured.

“Silly. For the intervention, of course! We need to make sure he can’t try and get away before we’ve convinced him we’re really friendly so I’ve loaded this one up with extra-thick cake batter! He won’t be able to fly off or run away!”

“I’m not sure the cannon is really such a good idea, Miss Pinkie.” Mac said. “Think it might kinda send the wrong message.”

“Oh.” Pinkie pouted. “Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to come up with a better idea. Don’t you worry, this is going to be great! We’ll make Mourne see that we don’t hate him or anything! He could have lots of friends if he’d just stop being such a meanie meanpants all the time!” She didn’t wait for a reply, bouncing off with a determined look on her face.

“Why do I feel like somepony who’s just lit the touchpaper on a firework?” Twilight sighed as the two of them watched the pink party pony disappearing down the street towards Sugarcube Corner.

“Eeeeyup,” Mac replied. Well, when Pinkie got a notion in her had there wasn’t a lot you could do about it. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it and just hope it didn’t collapse under them.

“So, other than that, how are things going with Princess Luna?” Twilight asked suddenly.

“Uh, fine, ah think,” he couldn’t quite keep a silly little grin from spreading on his lips at the thought of his marefriend. “Mah turn t’go up t’Canterlot this weekend. Not sure what we’re plannin’ to do, Luna’s got somethin’ she’s schemin’ up but she’s keeping the details tucked under her wing.”

“Oh! I’ll be going up to Canterlot myself. Would you like some company on the train?” She smiled brightly. “I could just take a chariot, but I like to use the Express whenever I can.”

“Well now, that’d be mighty pleasant, Miss Twilight,” he smiled. “Some company would be lovely. What’re y’all goin’ into Canterlot for?”

“Oh,” and for a moment he could swear the alicorn looked a little nervous, her eyes darting from side to side. “Princess Celestia needs to see me. There’s some...spellwork I’ve been doing that needs her opinion. After all, nopony would know more than her, right?”

“Ah guess,” Mac slowly replied, trying to keep the scepticism from his face. If there was one thing he’d learned in his time in Ponyville, it was that it didn’t pay to ask too much about the goings-on of that particular group of ponies. Whatever had Twilight all antsy was obviously between her and Celestia and he didn’t want any part of it. “Ah don’t know much about that kinda thing mahself. Well, ah’m gonna head up Friday evenin’ once ah’m done with chores. Ah’ll come by the library an’pick ya up after dinner?”

“That’d be lovely, Mac. I’ll see you then!” She picked up her apples in her magic and turned to leave.

“Actually Miss Twilight, there’s one more thing, if ya got a sec?” Mac sighed, rubbing a hoof through his mane. “In yer time in Canterlot, did ya have any dealings with the CDAA?”

“The Canterlot Department for Agricultural Affairs?” Twilight’s head tilted to one side. “No, not really. I know of them but that kind of thing is usually dealt with by the local Mayor and civil servants in each town and city. Are you having some problems with them?”

“Eh, kinda,” he admitted. “They’re bringin’ in new rules that’re gonna add a new big load o’red tape t’every order we ship out. Ah just don’t see what might ha’changed. Just wondered if ya might have anypony ya could ask about it. AH just don’t rightly see the point of it fer good and produce from within Equestria. Gryphon Or Zebrican, sure, but goods from Ponyville? Whadda they think we're doin’ out here?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mac, I don’t. It’s just not really my area of expertise. You could ask Fluttershy about it? She probably has to deal with them on a fairly regular basis because of her animals. She might be able to point you in the right diretion.”

Mac grunted and nodded. Fluttershy, of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “Thank ya kindly, Miss Twilight. That’s a good idea.”

“Anytime, Mac. I’ll see you on Friday!”

Mac nodded absently as he turned back to the stall. Hmm, speaking of Friday, should he ask Mourne to come back to Canterlot with him this time? Spending some time around Luna might give her a chance to nudge the stubborn batpony in the right direction and change his disposition before Pinkie resorted...to… Mac sighed loudly as he caught sight of Mourne trudging back towards the stall, a paper bag clutched in his teeth. There were multi-coloured streamers fluttering in his mane and what looked suspiciously like the doughy remains of some muffins coated over his wings.

“Don’t ask,” he growled after he’d set the bag down. “Just...don’t.”

“Told ya it’d be easier t’just agree to the party.” Mac stifled his smile behind a blueberry muffin, munching cheerfully on the sweet treat. “She ain’t gonna quit till you do.”

“She insisted on singing. SINGING!” Mourne snarled, tilting his head to the left to dislodge a chunk of what looked like balled-up confetti from his ear. “Rrrgh. Fine. She can throw her party. Just...just not too many ponies. Alright?”

“Alright? That’s better than alright! That’s supercalifragilistically AWESOME!” Pinkie squealed in delight as she once again erupted from the hedge behind the stall, eyes wide, her smile from ear to ear as she came nose to nose with Mourne before he could even squeak in surprise. “See you tonight at Sugarcube Corner. 7pm! Don’t be late!”

“How did? Where did? What in the...what?” Mourne finally managed to find his voice, but by then Pinkie was already nothing but a dissipating cloud of dust. “I’m doomed, aren’t I?”

Mac chuckled. “Eeeyup.”