“Thank you, Spike.”

Twilight took the quill offered to her from her number one assistant. The young drake smiled up to her before returning to his room. He had opted to isolate himself in his room with his comics, away from Blueblood. She signed the bottom of page, noting the large space below her signature more than the sound of Spike shutting the bedroom door.

“Right then,” Blueblood said, exchanging another page for the one she just signed, “That’s the last of it, after that, I shall return to Canterlot.”

“This is a lot of paper work.” Twilight Sparkle was never one to complain about writing, ever. She was honestly surprised that the act of putting one pon—ugh, human – somewhere else needed her signature a total number of sixty-eight times. She was practically sick of her own name by now.

Whereas Blueblood was a different story altogether.

He suspended the freshly signed sheet before him in an ivory glow, running his eyes along the written decree once again. His chiselled horn then took on another shimmering aura, a second layer of brilliant yellow. Then, below Twilight’s name, a line of sparkling gold flowed upon the page and twisted into beautiful cursive.

Twilight didn’t know one could be pretentiously grandiose with signing their name, and yet, Blueblood managed.

“Oh, and Princess Twilight Sparkle?” Blueblood ignored how he she glanced to him with a quirked brow. “I’ll be simple about this, it’s only fair to a new royal, but I require a small favour of you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ser Vincent had returned.

He left with a blank canvas awaiting to be filled, some small spark of inspiration to strike him, an image that would draw him back to town. Alas, his thoughts were not solely on his personal hobby, his mind not soaking up the surroundings for a return. No colour struck him in the environment, urban or rural, and so, the page beneath the ogres back home would remain empty once more.

‘That’s actually rather disappointing.’ Perhaps it was harsh of him to decide the town was a bland as they came, distinguishing features surfaced quickly enough on the way back to the library; by the time he arrived he could point out several reasons as to why Ponyville looked different to its neighbouring cousins.

But not one resonated with him. Not one gave him a reason to come back. Maybe he was biased—it was hardly a good day for him in the end ten days ago. Perhaps he couldn’t remember a good reason because there wasn’t one for that mission?

So what of this?

He had stood vigilantly at the front of the library and the two gilded guards, their tabards fluttering on a passing breeze. Vincent’s false tail and the ends of his coat were more behaved. It had been this way for fifteen minutes now. With a twist of the hooded head he could spot both royals talking. Without knowing the topic he returned to his duty, his hidden gaze sharp on the surroundings, his mind returning to his previous train of thought.

Maybe he would draw about this mission? That was an idea. A very good idea. Hell, the thought of not having paired pictures was starting to burn into his mind, a caustic itch now soothing over. Flub it all, this was sheer brilliant.

He’d sketch the tree-library, encompassing the silhouette of the princess in the window. Purple, no, lavender would be the colour he’d use; flowers of such hues bloomed amidst the branches and green leaves. Of course, save for these bits of flora and Her Majesty’s fur and mane, everything else-- from the outer bark to the books inside-- would be shaded pencil lead.

He actually sighed, quietly though. As satisfying as it was to finally have this issue solved it was only minor. The ogre picture he could tack onto the wall later, a mission rather than the mission wherein he found a reason to return. He would pair something with the Golden Oaks picture, he’d have to, but he wouldn’t be cursed with thinking about what happened a short time ago anymore.

So… after a day like today, where things went right, what would he come back for?

He couldn’t afford to ponder on the subject for much longer as his sharp eyes fell upon somepony migrating towards the library. Well, sauntering; the lady was well dressed once again, a lovely royal navy dress ending at the knees, almost shimmering like a night sky. It enhanced her snowy fur’s complexion and coupled well with her regal violet mane and tail. He was on duty and so didn’t respond immediately to her elegant wave.

“Good afternoon, Ser Vincent!” She was certainly cheery as he inclined his head in polite acknowledgement. “I thought I had heard you were back in town.”

“As required, Miss Rarity.” He kept a warm voice whilst thanking the presence of the mask, and then coupled his hands behind his back. The knight then tilted his mask ever so slightly. “May I ask what business you have? It’s simply one of my responsibilities as a guard is all.”

She waved him off, “Oh it is fine, I understand.” He doubted it was fine; she moved with confidence but the way she rested her elbow in her palm, whilst using her left hand to cup her cheek, betrayed only a small ripple upon her visage of courage. “I’m simply waiting on Twilight to finish with her duties and then we’ll be heading off to join our friends for a relaxing get together.” An amiable smile appeared on her muzzle.

“I had the fortune of bumping into Miss Applejack and Miss Fluttershy a while ago” He noted her renewed interest by the way she blinked and raise her chin. He turned his mask to look the way he came upon returning, “Their invitation was sadly wasted on me, but I believe they may have already set up the picnic beyond the park.” He hoped that this might dissuade her from inviting him to tag along.

“I assume that means you briefly toured Ponyville, then?” He looked back to her as she continued, her eyes alight with a subdued sparkle.

“His Majesty’s orders.” Though friendly, Vincent’s inflection conveyed that it was not something he did willingly. “I suspect he thinks I still need to walk off my collection of bruises and scratches off from the past month, and for the most part, he’s probably right.” The sparkle left and her smile waned, her arms shifting to fold under her endowed chest. He considered the concern in her wilted features, the ears, the shoulders, the slow shift of the tail, but before he could reassure her she spoke.

“I hope that means you’re doing fine under all that,” she said eying him up and down. That was… bold of her. Normally, when referenced to beneath the attire he had no shadow of a doubt the pony thought he was a stallion. It chilled him when it shouldn’t have that she was concerned for the human beneath, and he was fully aware of how absurd the notion actually was. Still, it was more reflexive discomfort than anything else.

“It’s my first task since the other day: nice and easy guard work.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulder, an act that completely drew her attention. “But to answer your question, I am on a speedy road to recovery, thank you for asking Miss Rarity.”

A relieved smile sprouted on her lips, a quite sigh leaving her. Ser Vincent then met her eyes as she shifted her gaze back up to his, hers shimmering sapphire that searched for hidden malachite. Few ponies knew what to look for in his masked stare, Blueblood perhaps being the one who did so the most.

“Please, call me Rarity.” It was simple and ended with a delighted giggle at his expense. “As much as I adore the formality I’m afraid that it will lose its charm all too quickly.”

He had shifted his voice so she’d hear a smirk to his tone, an audio illusion given that he was fairly certain of his neutral stare beneath the mask. “I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.” She must have fallen for it given the ghost of a playful grin that appeared. Then again, it came as quick as it went so perhaps she was on to him. That would be a first.

“Well, whatever keeps you comfortable. I’m sure Fluttershy will be thrilled to hear that you’re in better health.” Ser Vincent recalled the brief exchange of pleasantries minutes ago, growing faintly curious to whether the topic would have been brought up at all.

‘More than likely.’ He concluded. He also realised that he hadn’t returned her concern for another’s well-being.

“Incidentally, are you okay with what happened?” There was genuine concern to his soft baritone, subdued but none the less present. Reflexively his shoulders sagged when she looked away quickly, pressing her folded arms further into her. Had the ogres perhaps terrified her? She was almost pummeled after all. “Rarity, it’s—“

“It was. And still is.” She said sternly, her voice chilled and ashamed. “Though I’d like to, though I want to, I won’t justify… bah, I shouldn’t even use that word—I will not excuse my reaction after you saved me, Ser Knight.” She looked back up, ears wilted and shame tainting her graceful features.

It left him stunned to say the least.

“To think, one such as I would have such a shallow reaction.” She sighed deeply, her sight falling to his patched shoulder.

“I was actually worried about how you were taking being attacked by an ogre,” he explained flatly, rubbing the back of his hood. She then blinked owlishly as he continued after straightening up. “Though you did appear fine, along with the others and Princess Twilight, I’m more concerned about any after effects. I wasn’t exactly in my best condition, and perhaps should have remained to check the rest of you.”

“Oh.” Her simple reply summarised the state of Rarity’s mind at that moment, her off-guard look lasting for a few slow swings of her tail before she cleared her throat and brought her three-digited hand the base of her neck. She beamed a sheepish smile, a warm sight. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

A second later she bore a dazzling, confident grin. “I’ve actually been through worse, you know.”

He cocked his head; though already aware of a few exploits of the Elements of Harmony, they were reports reserved for Her Highness, Princess Celestia, which trickled down throughout the castle staff. This would be a first, from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

“I’ve heard. Numerous confrontations with a few beasts and even a few dragons if I’m not mistaken. Very impressive, highly commendable.” As a knight he had to be polite, respectful, such was their image he would uphold. Regardless of this, Vincent would likely have made some small effort to improve her mood, anyone else’s really. His father did his best to raise a decent man. In a way, maybe it was a part of his job, albeit a small part.

“Kind of you to say, Ser Vincent.” She offered an amused hum, her ivory hand reaching up to pamper her mane. The smile was still there along with a scent of calming violets. Barring the moment of concern for her welfare, he had held a neutral indifference beneath the mask throughout. This was merely pleasantries that were for once pleasant. “It’s strange, we’re not famous but we’re a household name in some parts.”

“I certainly don’t recall it being that way in Canterlot. Rubbed a few high elbows if I recall correctly, rightly so if you don’t mind me saying.”

He paused, not to avoid her intrigued expression but to turn his head in order to glance at the library. Surely enough, the meeting continued and Princess Twilight was looking as uneasy as ever. It would only be a matter of time before this all ended and he’d be escorting His Grace back to Canterlot where he’d recuperate until next time. Quickly he looked back to the well-dressed unicorn.

“I did enjoy my time but… it wound up interfering with more important aspects of my life.” A wistful look took her, a sigh leaving alongside the flicker of her ear. He cocked his head to which she nodded towards the library. “I neglected my friends, my real friends, pursuing a life in Canterlot.”

He offered a slow, mechanical nod in understanding. Not empathy but sympathy. “Missing home?” His inquiry was met with a bobbing of her head; he wasn’t wrong nor right.

“Less home, more the ponies that made it home. I imagine you must feel the same from time to time.” She continued, eyes flickering to the off-green patch that ‘mended’ his shoulder, “You must spend countless weeks away from those you hold dear, friends, family, brothers in arms and the like.” She noticed how the time before his response seemed to last longer than it should, the seconds of mute nodding as slow as he carried out the motion.

“Of course,” he replied and tilted his head the other way, “Though I suppose it depends how much one enjoys the solitude.” It was now that she was doubtful to how warm his tone was. She watched him shrug, his arms folding across his chest and stance setting firm. “I enjoy both company and some alone time with my thoughts,” he finished.

Why was it that she had a hard time believing that? She didn’t wonder about it for long.

“I don’t suppose you have given any thought to my previous offer.” She made to reach for the glaringly off colour square of material that arced over the bitten shoulder. Rarity withdrew though, her eyes then drawn to the muzzle of the mask that shifted ever so slightly to follow her furred finger. “Pardon me for that. Still, I dare say you need my expertise now more than ever, Ser knight.”

His mask swerved so that he could look down on his shoulder, a low hum escaping.

“I fail to see what is wrong with it.” It was simply a square a toughened faux-leather, perhaps a shade noticeably lighter, heavily stitched over the multiple bite marks. It had been soaked in the same formula that made his coat fire retardant, as had the thread.

“Well, no offence dear, but I’d hazard a guess that you were the one behind the stitching, no?” Her eyes glimmered playfully, his stoic masked stare fallen onto her.

His reply was wary, “Yes.”

“And, pray tell, which stitching method did you use?” she pressed.

“Um… in and out?” He winced under his facial shield at her wide eyed gawk—an ever present advantage to wearing the mask being that no-one saw how he truly felt. It quickly became a blessing when she giggled into her palm.

“I suppose between potions and crooks there is little time for learning to sew, properly anyhow.” She tsked and tutted, looking up to search for his hidden eyes. He wished she'd stop doing that. “I can tell it’s hindering you shoulder a little, trust me, I can spot faulty tailoring a mile away, and for somepony in your field a small hindrance can go a long way.”

“I doubt you have the materials needed, such as the resins I use to protect against the elements.” He reply was met with an understanding nod.

“True, but if you bring them to me then I can fix you in a jiffy, free of charge.”

“Though I decline your offer, please know your generosity is something I very thankful for.” Maybe he was stubborn, maybe he didn’t wish to be a hassle, or maybe he had better things to do than worry about such a trivial thing. Ser Vincent could tell she was going to continue, but the door to the library opened.

“Excuse me, I must return to my work.” It was bad that he’d given away this much time from his work to talk, completely unprofessional. ‘Well, time to end that.’ He gave an exaggerated bow of the head, stepping back slightly. “It was nice to see you again, Rarity, I’m glad you are doing well.”

“Likewise, Ser Vincent, likewise.”

“I’ll inform Her Majesty of your presence.”

He swiftly returned to his post as both royals exited the building. Prince Blueblood was as bold and proud as he had always been, noble in his steps out; snout raised slightly, hands locked behind his back, chest forward. Princess Sparkle was easily distinguished as humble, walking out as any other customer to her library might. Her amethyst eyes honed onto Vincent’s form, as did Blueblood’s calculating stare.

“Your Majesties,” the knight said with a fist-on-heart bow, “Does this mean the meeting has concluded? Shall we prepare to leave for the train station, milord?” Upon self-righting he was met with a stern nod from the prince. Vincent then looked to the guard to the right of the door. “Retrieve the guards at the rear of the library.” He was met with a crisp, silent salute before the gilded guard departed.

“Did you enjoy your time around Ponyville?” He was surprised that Princess Twilight asked that, but perhaps Blueblood brought it up. He saw that she looked hopeful in a way only her eyes could say.

“I found the hills beyond the park provide an excellent vantage point for the town, a beautiful sight.” His earnest reply did not have the desired effect, her smiling weakening.

“Told you.” Prince Blueblood’s remark left the knight confused, but he didn’t pry into that. The guards returned moments later.

“I mean, did you find anything interesting around town?” Twilight pressed, waving her hand out towards the village. “Anything?”

“Well… your friends would certainly qualify as interesting.” He caught himself as the princess’s brows reached for her crown. “I mean that in the best of ways, of course. They were kind enough to offer a place at your picnic, but I declined seeing as I’m on duty. And, given certain circumstances, perhaps it would be best for me not to attend.”

“What circumstances?” came her confused reply.

“I can’t exactly eat with this mask on, Your Highness.” He reached up and flicked the muzzle of his mask.

Twilight then glanced to Blueblood, eyes wide and maw slightly agape. The prince merely inspected his fingers only craning his head to offer her a disinterested stare. He offered a shrug before extending his arm past her.

“His modus operandi does entail a lot of privacy and did you honestly expect him to drop his attire because he’s hungry?” He snorted, a proud smile pointed to the knight. “For a while now, he’s been the best thing to happen the Solaris Knights, so I’ve had little reason to worry about how he actually is in the field. His record speaks for itself.”

“Thank you, Prince Blueblood.” At the end of the day, Ser Vincent was content in knowing that he was still highly respected by those that met him, including members of royalty. To hear praise from his friend, a prince renowned for his high standards and critical eye, was certainly nothing to be scoffed at. He felt himself stand taller. “Returning to Her Majesty’s personal affairs, Rarity awaits you.”

Ser Vincent turned to reveal the fashionista not too far away, maintaining a short distance close enough to be heard as she greeted and waved. Twilight waved back, a merry smile gracing her maw. Blueblood’s natural aloofness faltered as his eyes turned icy at the sight of Rarity.

Twilight called out. “I’ll be with you shortly, there’s just one last thing I need to deal with, Rare’s!”

“In that case, we will make the announcement now,” Prince Blueblood was quick to say. “Ser Vincent.” The knight stood to full attention, hands locking behind his back and stances setting shoulder’s width apart. “You are aware of my intentions for more guards in the south?”

“Aye, sir.” Vincent replied with facing to the front, past both royals. “In light of recent events you wish for more guards than local militias to respond to threats in the south.”

“Then keep that in mind when Princess Twilight informs you of your new role.” Prince Blueblood’s response momentarily confused the knight, his shoulders slumping as he tilted his head. Vincent switched his masked stare to the shoulder high princess, becoming distracted as the prince slowly moved past him.

“Ma’am?”

“You know, Ponyville has the most connected train line to the southern areas, right?” she began, a strained smile betrayed by her hands comforting one and other. “More so than Canterlot, and… I hear that you’re mostly going to be working in the south so…”

‘No… he wouldn’t…’

A chill erupted from his heart, freezing bolts shooting out and away, ice quickly forming in his veins. His arms slowly slipped from behind his back, hanging limp beside him as he simply stared back blank and silent.

“Through my understanding, you can have missions sent directly through me, and Spike’s messaging abilities, so this cuts out a lot of time. And, well, in keeping with regulations, whilst maintaining my current lifestyle, a compromise was made.” She looked up to him with a beaming smile. “Rather than having tens of guards protecting me, I can have something of equal value, being one knight as my new bodyguard!”

He barely heard her words through the blood rushing through his ears, the restrained breaths of his bordering quietened snorts and snarls. His right hand twitched and coiled, sheathed fingers writhing until a trembling fist shook in a volatile manner. This did not go unnoticed.

“Ser Vincent.” At His Lord’s words the knight snapped around to find the prince looking back with a faltering façade. A ghost of worry stained the stare of Vincent’s good friend. “You know it makes sense. Time is always of the essence, so shaving off switching trains can only be a merit.”

‘True, that much I’ll concede… you utter snake.’

Oh, he was not beyond comprehension and rational. Many times he wished to act on his emotions, and in those instances nothing good would come of it. Sure, acting out of common decency was nice, be that's why he chose to do so: it was the right thing to do. Telling the prince, his best friend, exactly how he felt right now was irrelevant to his duty to protecting those in need. And would probably raise an awkward scene for the princess. Did that mean he was incapable of becoming an infuriated storm of emotions? No. For all the control of his body that Vincent sought, rage and anger could always bubble just over the surface. Being able to understand sometimes made him even more furious. Made him feel helpless, useless even.

After all, sometimes things were simply what they were.

“You’re right.” It was hard to keep the sharp, betrayed edge out of his words, and Vincent wasn’t even sure he managed. “But pray tell, how am I to restock my supplies if they’re in Canterlot and I’m here.”

To that the Prince turned away, golden mane and tail shimmering in the light of day. “The exact same way you coped in Zebrica and Saddle Arabia… minus the property damage.” With that the Prince snapped his fingers and the four guards formed a neat square around him as he moved on.

Princess Twilight rested a hand on the knight’s elbow, an action that startled him. She looked up and spotted the faintest glimmer of gold vanish a quickly as it came.

“Hey, are you alright?” she inquired, earning a nod of the head immediately.

“Of course,” came his reply. It was stilted, a restrained calm. Her ears wilted.

“You know, I can help, just tell me what you need and I’ll see about making your transfer easier.” The pregnant pause almost killed her with the tension alone. Then he hummed and looked away, giving her time to rub down the hairs standing on the make of her neck.

“Hmmm, well, I only have one thing in mind. Right off the bat.” He tone was friendly again, his words befitting talk between good acquaintances. That’s why, given his reactions so far, it boldly pointed out how out of place and fake it was. Which is why she preferred it when he settled on a neutral, stoic voice.

He raised a finger, “First and foremost, Princess, I decide when the mask comes off.” He then brought his fist to his heart and bowed quickly. “I’m content with anything else so long as you respect that one rule.”

“Very well,” she replied, giving a small curtsy. “I look forward to your services, Ser Vincent. I hope you come to enjoy you time here in Ponyville.”

“I doubt it,” he let slip, her ears perking up, “I travel more than I stay in Canterlot, and I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. I won’t stay long.”

She sighed and rubbed her temple. Twilight then regarded him with an exasperated and yet almost pleading stare. “Maybe you should actually try,” she said, watching his hand clench. “You obviously can get along with ponies, so why try to put so much distance between us?”

He tilted his head, his fingers unwinding and releasing tension.

“Because ponies try to put distance between me and them without the mask, and now that half of this town knows I’m not a stallion, I’m going to be spending days under their stares. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, I won’t be seen as anything more than pony-like, and never truly treated as a pony.” His stare fell to the ground, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t even have to do anything; I could be handing out aid and it would be reluctantly accepted. That’s why, Princess, I prefer to be like this.” He gave a vague gesture to himself. “Now if you excuse me, I have one last job to finish. After all, I have no reason to let such tripe hinder my work.”

She wanted to object but found it hard too. In the end all she could offer was a nod and a few warm words and she had no idea whether they would work.

“I’ll see you around, then. I look forward to it, Ser Vincent.”

He departed shortly after, finding the prince was waiting not far ahead. Prince Blueblood it seemed had just reached Rarity by the time he caught up, the atmosphere thick between them.

“Your Majesty,” she said, pinching her dress as she curtsied.

“Miss Rarity, a... pleasure.” The Prince sniffed as they passed, blue eyes studying her form.

“Likewise,” she replied with all the forced charm she could muster. Joy, more work for him. Well, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to do this smoothly. Before the prince could somehow cause a headache, Ser Vincent slipped past the guard and bumped his shoulder into the royal. He was not impressed.

“Your Majesty, the train shall be departing shortly.” The knight was met by an indignant glare.

“It will leave when I tell it to.”

“An impossible feat if it had already departed, Blueblood.” That stopped the prince in his tracks, not what was said but rather Vincent’s omission of the prince’s regal status. The handsome stallion paused to tidy himself up, mainly brush his tail and pat his fur, all the while avoiding eye contact.

“Very well, let’s depart with it then.” Prince Blueblood soon returned to walking ahead, leaving Vincent behind to face Rarity.

“You best attend that picnic, by now I imagine most of the food is gone,” he said to her. His mind was still abuzz with what was going on, his emotions not quite settled. The key was to feel content, he had to reach an equilibrium of all emotions. That kept him calm and as happy as one in his position could possibly be. He was still a highly respected knight, regardless of where he was stationed. Yes, tonight would definitely be a good night for undisturbed potion crafting. Relief washed over Rarity’s features, her hand resting on her heart.

“We do try to keep things civil, you understand. That stallion has too much pride,” she explained. He nodded and looked to his friend, the prince that was steadily storming off.

“Pride, arrogance, at times vanity.” Ser Vincent took in a deep breath before releasing it. “An unavoidable sickness a heart of gold contracts when born high up the social ladder in Canterlot. If it weren’t for that I doubt I’d dare call him my best friend.”

Rarity blinked in surprise, eyebrows disappearing.

“You’re close then?” Her inquiry was met with another nod. “I’m sorry, Ser Knight, but I’ve not seen anything to suggest such a thing.”

“You won’t. He’d lose a surprising amount of influence if he gave away as much as he’d like to, and many would find ways to avoid his causes if he doesn’t behave in a certain way. Not everypony in Canterlot wants what’s best for everypony else in Equestria. He has sway over any group or individual in Canterlot because of who they see him as, not as he really is. Politics is can be an ugly world to face.” He looked to her. “He confides in me as much as I confide in him, but this…”

He shook his head.

“Fates, he doesn’t half know how to push his luck. We’ve only ever helped one and other, this is something I’d never expect of him.”

“Forgive me,” Rarity chipped in over the knight’s mutterings, “What has he done exactly?” His masked stare looked to her, and malachite found sapphire.

“Let’s just say this is more of a ‘see you later’, rather than ‘goodbye’, Rarity. Good day.” With that he turned to leave.

“Then I look forward to seeing you again soon, Ser knight!” she called back, waving before turning to meet with Princess Twilight. He turned to spot the pair of ponies, very interesting ponies, conversing and looking to him.

It was then that a bitter, yet amusing thought struck him.

‘It would seem that I found my reason to return to this blasted town after all. Thanks, Blueblood, you flubbing swine.’

The two mature adults would later brood on opposite sides of the train during the ride home.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for choosing to read the second story in the Changing States of Knight series, and I hope you enjoyed it to read the third installment.

Link to the third story of the series: Big Fear, Small Curiosity

As always, like, favourite, and please comment.