He had faced down a manticore.

When Nightmare Moon returned, he had stood on the walls of Canterlot, ready to do what was necessary to ensure that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the Lunar Uprising.

In the changeling invasion he’d stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Night Guard, defending the entrance to Luna’s tower while their mistress slumbered above.

All of that, though, paled in comparison to the challenge that faced him now and Mourne could honestly say he’d never been so nervous as he was at this moment. The garishly pink door of Sugarcube Corner sat before him, beckoning him in. He could see the lights on inside, hear voices raised in conversation, the occasional burst of laughter and yet he couldn’t bring himself to push that door open and face what lay within.

Shifting his weight from hoof to hoof, his wings fluttered nervously before he clamped them down firmly against his bare flanks. Mac had been quite clear. No armour, no weapons. This was just a party, nothing more, and it would be hard for him to enjoy himself or get ponies to loosen up around him if he was covered in steel. He felt...naked. It was a strange sensation given most ponies didn’t bother with clothes, but it wasn’t just the lack of clothing that bothered him, it was the lack of any sort of barrier between himself and them. He couldn’t fall back on the trademark guard scowl, it really didn’t work without the helmet, no matter how sharp his teeth were on their own.

At the same time, he couldn’t explain why this bothered him so much. He’d been to gatherings of the Night Guard, royal functions, bars and nightclubs and parties of all sorts, so why was the thought of this one reducing him to a trembling wreck?

Was it the weight of expectation, perhaps? He was certain that when he opened that door he’d be met by accusing eyes and angry stares. He remembered a comic he’d read as a foal, where the music always stopped playing when the villain entered the bar, much to the irritation of the piano player who seemed unable to keep it from happening. He could almost hear the music coming to a jangling, discordant stop as every head turned in his direction.

Was he the villain of the piece here? Ponies in small towns had long memories and it was nowhere near long enough for his earlier ‘foolishness’ with Mac to have faded from hearts and minds. No. This was a mistake. He took a step back, then another. He’d just come up with an excuse, he’d even dare the wrath of the Pink One. He should never have agreed to this. Another step back and there was a sudden squeaking noise just as his hind legs bumped up against something.

“Ponyfeathers. I’m sorry, I should have been looking where I was going.” He turned around to find a vaguely familiar yellow pegasus giving him a quizzical look from beneath a mane of thick pink hair. It took a moment before he recognised her, dipping his head in respect to one of the Elements. “You’re Fluttershy aren’t you? The Element of Kindness?”

She nodded soundlessly, one eye peeking out from behind her mane as she shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, never quite meeting his gaze. Mourne cleared his throat and she flinched back, her wings fluttering nervously. “Oh no, you don’t need to apologise,” she finally whispered in a voice so quiet he had to lean in a little closer to make sure he caught every word. “It was entirely my fault,” she finally whispered. “I should have been looking where I was going as well.”

“Well, it’s no bother. I was just...leaving.”

She frowned a little, her head lifting. “Oh, but, uhm, isn’t this party for you? You are Mourne, right?”

“I am, but...this party was a mistake. I should never have agreed to it. I’ll make my apologies to the Pink One some other time but right now I think I need to get back to the farm.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” She frowned as she sat on her haunches, her head tilted quizzically to one side. “Did--Have we done something wrong? I’m terribly sorry if we have. I’m sure none of us meant it and if you just tell us what it is we can--”

“It’s not what you did, it’s what I did,” he growled, fighting to keep the irritation from his voice. “You all know what I did, you don’t need to pretend to be polite.”

She blinked and rocked back a little, her ears flicking. “Pr-Pretend? Is that what you think ponies have been doing?”

“What else would they be doing?” Mourne snapped. “Let’s just recap what has happened since I arrived here. I’ve assaulted a member of the Apple family, the founders of Ponyville itself, humiliated my Mistress in front of the entire court, betrayed the memory of my sister and spat in the face of everything I signed up to protect. You can’t tell me that ponies around here are ready to forgive or forget that.”

“Well...no,” Fluttershy admitted with a sigh. “Not forget, anyway. Uhm, but, I know Applejack’s already forgiven you. With a little prompting from Twilight and Rainbow.”

Mourne snorted. “Applejack? She can’t even bear to be in the same room as me. How can you expect me to believe that she’s forgiven me?”

“Oh, she just...she holds grudges sometimes,” Fluttershy admitted, moving swiftly on from that topic, “but if she wasn’t willing to let you try then she wouldn’t be letting you stay on the farm. If she didn’t think that there was something good inside you, she’d have sent you away or told them to just lock you up.”

Well, that was enough to give him pause. So far Applejack’s behaviour towards him had been cool but not openly aggressive, not since that first day. She said she was going to give him a chance and she seemed to be holding up her end of the bargain. The Element of Honesty wouldn’t have lied about that, would she? “Well, what about the others? What about you?” He stepped closer and she shrank back, her tail swishing nervously. “See? Still afraid. Can you honestly say you forgive me for what I did?”

Her head tilted curiously to one side. “Oh, that’s, uh, not you. Not you personally, I mean. I’m scared of everything, really. Except for my animal friends. Well, and Discord, he’s really very sweet when you get to know him.” The yellow pegasus brightened as she spoke about the incarnation of chaos while Mourne did his best to hide his surprise. Well, seems the betting pool had been accurate. Damn, that meant he was out ten bits. He dragged his attention back to the here and now as she continued speaking. “But, well, yes. I can forgive you for what you did,” she replied patiently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I? You thought you were protecting the Princess, after all. You were doing what a Guard is supposed to do...right?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Not really. I did a lot of things that day, none of them things that a royal guardpony should do. I broke the rules, I blamed an innocent pony for things that he had no control over. How am I supposed to make up for that?”

“Weeeeelllllll….you could try saying sorry!” a new voice interjected. “Granny Pie told me that sorry’s always the best place to start after you hurt somepony else’s feelings. Once you get that out of the way then you can come in and enjoy the party! Everypony’s waiting to see you, and you too Fluttershy. Gummy was even starting to say that you wouldn’t be coming. I told him he was wrong, of course.”

Mourne hunched his shoulders and gritted his teeth before slowly turning his head to see Pinkie Pie standing on the doorstep, a wide smile on her face. "We have cake! And punch!" she went on cajolingly, leaning in closer as she did. "And later on we might even play pin the tail on the pony! Do guards play games like that? I never had time to ask Shining Armor what kind of things the guards got up to when they weren't protecting the princesses.” She tapped a hoof thoughtfully to her chin. “Was there drinking involved? Ooo, did it involve seeing who could hang upside down the longest?”

Mourne gave her a deadpan look, doing his best not to sigh out loud. “Just because we look like bats does not mean we ARE bats, Pinkie Pie.”

“Sooooo does that mean you CAN’T hang upside down from the rafters?”

“Well no, as a matter of fact we can if we like. That still does not make us bats.”

“But you’re called batp-” She protested before a hoof pressed to her lips silenced her. She blinkblinked around the yellow appendage, peering quizzically at Fluttershy.

“He’s right, Pinkie,” Fluttershy said. “Batponies really aren’t like bats, despite their appearance and name. If anything they’re more a kind of, well I suppose you could call them a mock bat.”

“MOCK bat?” Mourne spluttered. “We are nothing of the kind!”

“Oh, uhm, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I...oh dear. Please don’t be mad.” The yellow mare’s voice got higher and higher as she went on, ending with her sitting in a quivering ball on the steps. Mourne sighed, rubbing a hoof lightly between his eyes.

“You know what? Let’s get this over with. Right now, I need a drink.” He pushed past the beaming Pinkie Pie and into the warmth and light of Sugarcube Corner.

Mourne awoke with a start, lifted his head up and promptly hissed as it thumped into something hard right above him, then hissed again as his hangover made itself painfully obvious. His stomach twisted even as it seemed that the simple act of blinking his eyes was enough to make his head throb in time. What HAD happened last night? He remembered speaking with Fluttershy outside, some bad jokes about bats and then...nothing. There were occasional flashes, fragments of conversation, but nothing approaching coherence.

His internal memory check revealing nothing of any particular use he slowly turned to one side, looking up in puzzlement at what appeared to be the slats of a bed. Odd. He slept on blankets in the hayloft, so he wasn’t at Sweet Apple Acres. A slow survey of the surrounding environment revealed, among other things, dustbunnies of varying sizes, what appeared to be a pair of striped stockings, a cupcake that had to be stale by now and a large-eyed green alligator latched onto one of his hooves, drooling messily all over it as it peered up at him and solemnly blinked both eyes, one after the other.

While he’d certainly woken up in stranger places, and stranger situations, this one would rank fairly high on the list. He was also fairly certainly there had never been a hungry alligator involved before now. There was that one time with the angry gryphon, but the entire Night Guard was sworn to secrecy about that particular encounter.
It quickly became obvious he’d spent the night under somepony’s bed, and the overly rich scent of baking in the air would suggest that he was still at Sugarcube Corner. Further investigation was proving difficult at this point as every little movement made his body ache as if he’d gone five rounds with a manticore, and then let a bear tapdance on his head as a finisher. There were simply too many questions right now, few of them with positive or desirable answers or outcomes. How much had he drunk the night before? If he was in Pinkie Pie’s bedroom...what had he done and how had he ended up on the floor?

There would be time enough to worry about that later, just as soon as he extricated his hoof from that drooling maw that was still stubbornly clamped onto him. He tugged his leg back and shook it, watching in amazement as the alligator gripped him all the more securely as it was dragged along the floor, churning up the dust and making him sneeze so hard his head jerked up and thumped into the bottom of the bed again.

“Ow!” he finally burst out. “Luna damn it…will you just get off?”

“Oh! That’s where Gummy got to! Hi Mourne, why are you under my bed?” With a creaking of bedsprings the face of Pinkie Pie appeared beside the bed. Mourne tried not to shudder as that bright, cheerful voice scraped along his senses like claws on a chalkboard. He gave another futile shake of his hoof that resulted in little more than a slow, lazy eyeblink from the stubbornly attached alligator.

“A question for the ages, Pinkie Pie. In truth I’m not entirely sure why I am under your bed. My memories of last night are, uhm, fuzzy to say the least.”

“I’m not surprised! I can’t believe you challenged Applejack to a drinking contest!” Pinkie rolled nimbly off the bed, flopping on her belly on her floor before reaching forward and tickling Gummy under the chin till the alligator released Mourne’s hoof. He stared at his matted, dripping fur and just sighed before slowly working his way out from under the bed.

“I don’t remember that,” he admitted as he brushed some of the more stubborn motes of dust from his coat. “Who won?”

“Uhm… I think it was probably a tie. You both fell over right around the same time. I’ve never seen anypony who could handle their schnapps as well as Applejack before now! You must have a stomach made out of lead. And rocks! Dashie could hardly believe it! She’d never seen anypony else last that long.”

“Hm.” Well, that would certainly explain the hangover, but that wasn’t the burning question of the day. “So what happened after that?”

“Well, after you and AJ recovered and Twilight used her magic to help you both sober up a bit, did you even know she could do that? How amazing would that be? You could go out partying aaaalllll night and POOF!” Pinkie hopped in place, her mane bouncing along with her. “She just wiggles her hooves and you don’t need to worry about hangovers or anything!”

“If she did that, then why does my head still hurt?”

“Oh, you started drinking again, and Twilight said she couldn’t use the same magic twice so she just left you to it. So then we danced, and played some party games and I had NO idea you once pinched Princess Luna’s butt on a dare!”

Mourne’s jaw went slack, the pupils of his eyes contracting to narrow slits. “I...I told you that?”

“Oh yeah!” Pinkie giggled as she bounced in place, turning to begin making her bed, her tail flicking cheerfully behind her, scarcely seeming to notice as Gummy jumped up onto her back to begin gnawing toothlessly on her mane. “We played truth or dare later on. Gotta admit, I didn’t expect you to actually try and kiss Twilight when Rainbow dared you!”

Mourne shuddered. Okay, first thing to do today was find a deep, dark hole to hide in. Under a mountain. Preferably until the world ended, or maybe even a little longer than that, just to be safe. That might be enough to save him from Celestia’s wrath once word got out he all but sexually assaulted Twilight Sparkle, her former student and newest Princess of Equestria. “On second thought, I’m not sure I want to know how the rest of last night went on. Just one more question before I flee into exile for the rest of my life. Did I do anything else that’s likely to end up with me walking downstairs to a hoof in the face? Did I insult apples? Did I say the Wonderbolts were the slowest fliers in the world or insist that everypony should walk around in sackcloth?”

Pinkie hmmed, rubbing her jaw thoughtfully. “Noperoonie! Don’t think there was anything else. After that there was some more drinking, and at one point you were on top of a table trying to get us to do some chant or creed or motto or something. Hey, do you know what the difference is between a creed, a motto and a mission statement? Why would we need so many different words for the same thing, assuming they are the same thing! Is this like when they say the Stalliongradian’s have twenty six different words for cold?”

Mourne barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall, settling instead for a long, drawn out sigh. “The Night Guard creed. It’s... a promise to ourselves, to the Mistress, to all the ponies we protect. I think I need to make a new promise, and that’s to never try drinking that much again.”

“Awww. But why not? You were laughing and joking and weren’t such a meany pants to everypony! You don’t have to push us all away, y’know. We’ve all forgiven you for what you did, we can see you trying to help out Mac and Applejack.” Pinkie’s hoof came to rest lightly on his shoulder as she spoke. “We forgave Princess Luna, we even forgave Discord. Why wouldn’t we forgive you?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I...well, when you put it like that…”

“See?” She giggled as she hopped away to bounce on her bed. “It’ll be fine! Now, you might want to go home and, uhm, brush your teeth or something. Your breath is kind of stinky and you look like you spent the whole night sleeping facedown on the floor!”

“Funny that,” he deadpanned, then nodded slowly. “Thank you, Pinkie. I...appreciate the pep talk.”

She smiled widely, pausing in her bouncing a moment to give him a serious look, one hoof thumping to her chest as she pulled herself up to stand at a reasonable approximation of attention. “What do we do when our enemies surround us and our comrades fall?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he turned to leave. “We stand, Pinkie. That’s what the Night Guard does. We stand.” He returned her salute before pulling the door shut behind him and walking gingerly downstairs, trying to tread lightly to avoid aggravating his already aching head, exchanging brief nods with the Cakes as they busied themselves with getting ready for the day.

“Well, if it isn’t Smoocheo. Better not think about putting any of those moves on Twilight again, buster, or I’ll have to do something about it. Not sure what but...something!”

Mourne blinked, looking around in confusion before lowering his gaze to come near nose to nose with the glowering face of Spike. The little dragon snorted, a wisp of green flame curling from one nostril. “Twilight told me what you did.”

“I see.” He paused a moment. “Was she...upset?”

“Upset is one word for it. She was up half the night pacing, muttering to herself. I could hardly sleep she was making so much noise! In the end I had to move down to the library. That was just after she started getting the flipcharts out.”

Mourne slowly blinked. “Flipcharts?”

“And flash cards.” Spike stepped in closer, prodding him firmly with one stubby claw. “You’d better get over there and apologise to her! In fact, I was going to get us some muffins for breakfast but maybe you’d be better taking them over to her as a way of saying sorry. Mrs Cake? Can I have special order number five? You’d better make it a double. Smoochie here will be picking up the tab.”

Mrs Cake opened her mouth to comment, but one look at Spike’s frown was enough to convince her that discretion was definitely the wisest choice. She nodded and disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving Mourne alone with the dragon.

"Sooooo…” Morne finally sighed as the uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. “I didn’t mean to do anything to upset or embarrass the Princess. I’d…had a little too much to drink. I have nothing but the greatest respect for Twilight Sparkle.”

“That’s PRINCESS Twilight Sparkle to you.” Spike snapped, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re lucky she told me I wasn’t allowed to tell the other Princesses about this or you’d be on the surface of the sun by now!”

Mourne cleared his throat, shifting nervously from one hoof to another, reminded quite unpleasantly of his own thoughts from mere minutes before. “Look. I’ll take these over to the library and apologise to the Princess and...I’ll buy you a whole box of cupcakes for yourself.”

“What? You think you can bribe-”

“With emerald sprinkles.”

“...make it ruby sprinkles and you got a deal.”

"Done.”

Hoof met clenched fist in solemn accord and Spike finally cracked a smile, giving a rueful shake of his head. “Seriously. Of all the ponies you could have kissed, why Twilight?”

“I’m not sure if this is a trick question or not. Which answer won’t get me set on fire?”

Spike laughed. “Never mind. You know, you’re alright, Mourne. Maybe you should let Pinkie throw you a party more often. You’re a lot nicer afterwards.”

“I think I prefer to retain what little dignity I have left. Thank you, Mrs Cake,” he added as he accepted the surprisingly heavy brown paper bag from her. “And a dozen ruby cupcakes for my scaly friend here. Is it alright if I settle up with you later? I need to get these over to Tw-Princess Twilight’s place before she works herself up any more than she already has.”

“That’s quite all right, deary,” the plump mare assured him with a warm smile. “You go do what you need to. I’m sure a member of our royal guard is good for the bits. Spike, I’ll have those cupcakes ready for you in a jiffy. Just promise me you won’t eat all of them in one sitting.”

Mourne didn’t wait to hear any of the dragon’s no doubt unconvincing claims that he wouldn’t simply gorge himself into a stupor, scooping the bag up in his mouth and trotting out, hurrying down the street as quickly as his hangover would allow. The morning sun greeted him like a pair of daggers to the temple, the harsh golden light forcing him to narrow his eyes to the barest slits. He’d never intended to be out all night so his lenses were back in the barn. The thumping inside his skull intensified, joined now by rising nausea as his body decided that it had really had just about all the abuse it was willing to take in twenty four hours. Nevertheless, he had a mission to complete and so he set his shoulders and continued down the road, exchanging little nods with the ponies he passed until he stood before the unassuming door of Golden Oaks library.

He lifted his hoof, took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door, trying not to flinch as each impact of his hoof on the wood made his head throb. He waited a few moments, head cocked and ears perked for any sign of movement within. Nothing so far. He knocked again, then gently tested the door. It swung open easily and he tentatively poked his head inside. “Princess Twilight? It’s, uhm, Mourne. I...brought you some breakfast as a peace offering?”

The library was dark and ominously silent, the curtains still drawn. Ignoring the prickling sensation between his shoulderblades he pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside, closing it gently behind him. “Princ-”

The word died in his throat as every fibre of his being, every instinct as a guard, screamed that he was now in imminent, mortal danger. He turned slowly around, coming nearly nose to nose with the lavender alicorn. Her horn was shining, her wings spread, her face an angry scowl. “I...brought muffins?” he tried, slowly lifting the bag up with one wing. “Order number five?”

Her eyes flicked to the bag, then back to his face. Her horn flared and he flinched, closing his eyes and waiting for the lash of her magic. If he was lucky maybe she would just teleport him into a mountain. That would at least be over quickly. Seconds ticked past and he slowly opened first one eye, then the other. He was alone. He sagged back against the door, wiping his forehead with a shaky hoof. He’d survived. He’d rather pile candy at the hooves of Nightmare Moon than go through that again.

“Through here, Mourne,” her voice came from the kitchen and for a moment he began to think he might get out of this intact, right before she said those four words. Those four words that every stallion dreaded hearing, the ones that would make send your stomach plummeting towards your hooves. “We need to talk.”

On second thoughts, maybe he was still doomed. Well, it had been a good life all in all, he supposed, the last few weeks notwithstanding. He’d got to kiss one Princess and pinch the rump of another, not many ponies could say that. He gathered the tattered remnants of his pride and courage and trudged through into the kitchen to meet his fate.

Author's Notes:

I am so, so sorry this took so long! This chapter kicked my ass all over the room and there's kind of a lot going on IRL right now. Wife's having a baby (our first) and we're buying a new house as well. Because hey, why not, let's do the two most stressful things you're ever likely to do at the same time!

Still, hopefully the next chapter won't take anywhere near this long to come out and we're going to shift the focus back to Mac and Luna. Thanks for sticking around to see what happens!