Honour Bound

---

It hadn’t been an easy night for Corporal Bound. Yesterday, she’d woken up tired, a little hungover, still shaken by her religious experience the prior morning, and regretful of how she had conducted herself that afternoon. Today, the hangover and religious ecstasy had faded, but her exhaustion and regret had grown more than enough to replace them.

While Honour had been off getting drunk, her Very Important Pony – who wasn’t actually a pony – had violated a facet of the arcane Equestrian social contract for those granted the noble privilege of a private Affinity: the right to have an armed retinue. When she had confronted him with the knowledge of this violation, unintentional though it may have been, he’d responded with a joke that, to her, denigrated not only her service, but the very systems and traditions of Equestria. This had upset her so much that she had refused him service, all but cussing him out as she’d left.

The reasons for her actions were... complicated.

And they were certainly not worth getting into now, as she headed towards his chambers once again.

Lack of self-control aside, everything that she had done was bad enough as it was. But then, her VIP had taken the inconceivable step of sending his apologies. And according to Specialist Sparkshower, he had done so with sincerity and genuine remorse.

It was numbing, and Honour had spent nearly the whole day sulking about. That night, any actual bouts of sleep were merely brief punctuation marks between the twisted dreams of a confused mind.

Now it was morning, and although her panic had gone, the dread remained. Not a dread of the long-term future -- unless she had seriously misread things, it was clear that the Royal Engineer didn't want her to leave his service, and that he wasn't about to have her disciplined or dismissed. Which was not to say that it might not still happen without him intending it, but she generally felt that her career was safe, at least.

Instead, like a filly giving a presentation in school, Honour was filled with the puerile dread of figuring out just what to say.

Honour rounded the corner, and Anonymous' white double doors loomed in the distance, on the left side, near the end of the hallway. He was owed an apology; that was the absolute minimum.

But he deserved so much more than that.

When Honour had made the brief trek downstairs yesterday, she had been musing about the batpony Ebonshield's part in the quaternion. Now the subject of her thoughts was her own role.

Honour wasn't a highborn noble, schooled from birth in the intricate details of court life. She’d known a little bit from popular culture and basic schooling, the same as anypony else. Princesses and Princes, Lords and Ladies, bowing and kneeling, sir-ing and ma'am-ing, accompanied by a general respect for the power of the institution of nobility.

Despite Sergeant Ebonshield's opinion, the VIP training classes really did do a respectable job of filling in many of the gaps. And Honour had spent one and a half years in this specialized service, picking up most of the other details along the way. But she wasn’t in any position to be teaching anypony anything about it, was she?

Honour paused, standing on the wide ribbon of red-and-cream carpet that lay on top of the palace's checkerboard-pattern floor, staring at the doors ahead and to her left.

Anonymous couldn't have known anything about the social contracts of this world when he'd arrived here. Yet, he'd not just survived, but thrived, reaching the loftiest halls of power in the matter of a few months. Was it really all down to determination and a bit of luck?

Honour considered her own situation. Yes, she was just a corporal; the lowest position of any actual leadership in the Guard. But she had come from a pretty low station in life, knowing nothing of noble pleasures and luxuries. Now she was in the exclusive VIP service, with decorated guardsponies in her charge. She’d spent that time travelling among the rich and powerful of Equestrian society -- J. P. Mustang, the Privy Council, even Her Majesty Princess Luna in pony. Honour used to think she hadn't made much of her life, and maybe she had squandered some of her potential -- but, in that moment of reflection in one of Canterlot Castle's calm, quiet, hallways, she realized that she hadn't done that badly, after all.

And the key was to not go on wasting herself.

Honour considered what Princess Luna had asked of Anonymous yesterday. He'd known nothing of batponies, not even the legends and myths. He barely even knew Equestrian history and culture. But when Princess Luna tasked him with helping her repair a thousand-year rift with creatures who had been sworn to attain domination over all of Equestria, he didn't flinch. He'd finished his biscuit, put down his coffee, and calmly, collectedly, said he would do whatever he could.

Was that sort of confidence all it took?

Honour decided that it was. She knew enough about noble traditions, and Anonymous had shown himself more than willing to listen. Fate hadn't refused him an expert social teacher when it had assigned Sergeant Ebonshield to the quaternion. Fate had simply acknowledged that Honour was the expert; she just had to rise to the challenge.

She would rise to the challenge.

Lifting her head and taking a deep breath, the earth pony corporal seemed to inhale confidence itself. As the experience with Princess Luna two days ago had filled her with renewed faith in the nation as a whole, her simple conclusion after a restless night now filled her with a kind of boldness that she hadn’t felt since she first joined the Guard.

No longer dreading the colt on the other side of the doors, she proceeded forwards once again.

Yes, she would take charge of the Royal Engineer, guiding him through the shallow waters of noble society. She would show him the truth that Princess Luna reopened her eyes to see: that in Equestria, good ponies work together to achieve great things.

Because friendship truly is magic.

Brimming with courage, and allowing a determined smile to creep onto her face, Honour knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Yesterday, Honour opened that door full of confidence that the Princesses could solve all the world's problems, with the help of their trusted lieutenants such as the Royal Engineer. Today, she opened it with the self-assurance that she numbered among them, as well.

"Corporal Bound reporting for duty, sir!"

Anonymous was sitting on a stool in front of the workbenches, hunched over some contraption. He turned around and looked up at her, and all the words she had ready in her head melted away in an instant. Unlike all the scenarios her mind had managed to dream up last night, he wasn't cold or angry. His usual warm, friendly smile was there, but it was heavily suppressed by an apprehensive caution. And he looked tired.

"Good morning, Corporal."

She swallowed, unable to reply. Where did the words go? They were on her tongue just a moment ago. It would almost be easier if he was angry with her!

Closing her eyes for a moment, Honour reopened them, licked her lips, and pawed at the ground with one hoof.

‘All I have to do is apologize for yesterday.’

‘Why is this so hard?’

"Sir, I... uhm..."

‘Pull yourself together, Honour!’

"... About yesterday, sir..."

She trailed off again, unable to string together enough words to form a sentence.

As she stood, slack-jawed and empty-mouthed, Anonymous got up from his seat, slowly wiping his hands on his apron.

"I'm sorry for what I said about your services yesterday, Corporal. I do really appreciate the help you've given me, and the work you've done."

‘Damn it, you're supposed to be the one apologizing, not him!’

But she was still held mute.

"And I'm sorry for acting without having consulted you in matters of social obligations." He shrugged and shook his head, remorseful. "I'm afraid I just don't have a head for these sorts of things. I hope you can forgive my mistakes."

‘Oh, sweet Celestia, this is all wrong!’

Honour started shaking her head. "No--No, sir, you-..."

‘Take a breath, Honour.’

The words started to come back into her head.

"... You don't have anything to apologize for, sir. I'm sorry; for refusing you service, for insulting you as I did yesterday."

She looked up and met his eyes, confidence returning. "You didn't deserve what I said to you. Having some movers in without your escort won't set any tongues wagging. I overreacted, and it was very unprofessional of me. For that, and for more, I apologize, sir."

Rubbing his hands together, he spread them open in front of him. "But I did blunder, Corporal. I didn't consider the situation I'm in."

‘This damned, humble gentlecolt!’

"Sir, seeing you safely through Equestrian society is my responsibility, and it's my fault for not being proactive."

"Come now, Corporal, you can't anticipate everything I might do. Surely, I'm at fault for not asking before acting."

‘Guh!’ Was he seriously arguing with her while she was trying to claim responsibility?!

She tried to project the calm confidence of a veteran. "No, sir, I'm at fault for not asking before leaving. I may not be able to anticipate everything you might do, but you certainly can't anticipate what might be socially unacceptable according to the rules of noble society."

Sitting down, she clasped her forehooves together, pleading.

"... Please, sir. I'm the guardspony in charge of your VIP quaternion, and this is my cart to pull. I erred in leaving you alone without guidance and without asking you your plans. I erred in scolding you for what was my own mistake. I erred in refusing you service..."

Her face brightened as she thought of a good way to wrap up.

"... In fact, sir, the only mistake you made was in sending me flowers and an apology card when you hadn't actually done anything wrong."

A wry, uncomfortable smile appeared on his face, and he shrugged awkwardly. "I, uh -- I just thought it was the right thing to do, that's all..."

He spread his hands and then clasped them together again.

"... I hope they brightened things up, at least."

"They did, sir..."

As Honour lowered her hooves, her mind drifted back to the memory of when Glamerspear had unwrapped that sweet-smelling colourful bouquet in front of her.

"... It, uh, was actually a really sweet gesture."

‘Now why in Tartarus did you go and say that out loud?’

‘That was supposed to be internal thoughts only!’

She couldn’t really piece together why her lips decided to utter what her mind was thinking, and she found herself blushing, awkwardly.

"I, uh..." The Royal Engineer, appearing, thankfully, to not have noticed her suddenly-rosy cheeks, fidgeted with his hands some more as he glanced around.

Nodding his head, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"... Certainly I accept your apologies, Corporal. So, er, where do we go from here?"

‘Oh, thank goodness we’re back to business again.’

The flushed feeling subsided.

"Well, sir, it would be appreciated if you informed me -- or whoever comes on duty -- of your plans for the day."

Anonymous seemed equally pleased to be talking about ordinary matters once more. "Of course, of course..."

With a sigh, he seemed to settle back into his usual posture. "Sergeant Ebonshield mentioned that she would like to go in campaign with Specialist Sparkshower to try to find me some arms with which to conduct training today, provided I wouldn't be having any occasion to call on them. So far, my schedule is free but for one event, and -- correct me if I'm wrong -- I understand that when attending court, only a single guard may attend somepony, even if they have been granted a full quaternion?"

Honour nodded. "For open court, yes, sir, just one of us. May I ask what your interest there is, today?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Galloway Bitsmount will publicly answer the charges against his mine operations this morning."

Now that was something.

Honour nodded once more. "I understand, sir. Shall I let the sergeant know she's free to head out, then?"

The Royal Engineer gave her a slight bow. "Please do. Court is in an hour, but he's not scheduled to appear until ten o'clock."

"Yes, sir."

Giving a salute, Honour pulled open the door and headed back upstairs.

Finally given a brief moment alone, she collected her thoughts.

That went well. Just, not really any way that she had imagined it would. Anyways, that was enough reflection for now.

It was time to focus on the task at hoof.

She couldn't help but wonder, just what did Ebonshield have in mind for Sparkshower?

---

Temper Violetta

---

Suggested background music: John Phillip Sousa - 'Semper Fidelis', performed by "The President's Own" United States Marines Band
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lW4xkMCkXrI

---

Lieutenant Temper Violetta sipped her morning coffee. It was another glorious Friday in the Royal Guard. A week in the Royal Guard was like a day in Celestia's own presence.

Every meal a feast!

Every paycheck a fortune!

Every formation a parade!

Praise Celestia, she LOVED the Royal Guard!

And what better way to start the day off than with paperwork? The neat stack of sheets in her out-box was, if she allowed herself a small boast, a testament to the organization of the Guard, and a shining example for others to follow.

It was true, the platoons in the VIP Service were larger than usual, owing to the general lack of combat action seen by their members, and this generally resulted in greater amounts of paperwork, but any officer who couldn't handle a few more pencils to push had no part in her Guard -- at least in Violetta’s books.

And they should count themselves lucky to be in the VIP Service, too! With its enlisted ponies having been recruited from among the best soldiers in regular service, heavily vetted, comprehensively instructed, and thoroughly drilled, incidents of misbehavior were rare.

Why, just that morning in the Officers' Mess, a junior lieutenant from an ordinary infantry regiment was bemoaning that it was only Friday, and already this week they had doled out four non-judicial punishments for disorderly conduct, found three of their soldiers tossed in the drunk tank overnight, and had been forced to send out search parties to find two ponies Absent Without Official Leave.

The poor junior officer colt had come from an impoverished noble family, and hadn't been able to afford more than the most basic of infantry platoons for his commission. Violetta almost felt sorry for him, but there was a reason that the purchase of commissions was slowly on its way out, after all. Soon, the Royal Guard's officer corps would be composed entirely of trained professionals like herself. That would be a welcome change, though it would take some time to get there. There were still plenty of high-born ponies in expensive posts who looked down upon any officer who wasn't a gentlepony and hadn't paid their way into the Guard. Nopony would ever question their loyalty to the Crowns, of course, but it wasn't an ideal situation.

That Lieutenant Kilfeather of the First Air Wing, for example, staging a 'Pas de Sabots' -- what a scandal! He wasn't noble-born, but as an officer, he had the rights of a noble when it came to such ancient customs. And now the gentry -- both within the guard and without -- were calling for his head. All while the rest of the guard merely tried to tread a careful line between the old-style feudal system and the new-style meritocracy.

Violetta shook her head as she stared down at the draft report in front of her.

'TO: LCOL BELLE, CHIEF OF STAFF, JUDGE ADVOCATE GENERAL'

'SUBJ: OFFICIAL COMPLAINT REGARDING THE CONDUCT OF LT VALIANT KILFEATHER & 1ST AIR WING'

'RE: VIOLATION OF UNIFORM CODE OF MILITARY JUSTICE, ART. 80, 88, 116, 127, 128, & 133

It'd taken her all week to collect evidence, pore over the UCMJ, and write everything up. Now her official complaint was sitting before her. Having read it and re-read it and re-read it again, all she needed to do now was give it her signature.

Blast it, if he had done anything wrong, this was way beyond her pay grade. But a VIP under the protection of one of her quaternions -- and therefore, under her protection, too -- had legitimate grievances. And if Kilfeather really had moved the Pas de Sabots in violation of official permission, not to mention demanded a hostage as coward's payment, then everything he and his guardsponies subsequently did constituted felonious acts.

As troubled as she was by the notion that an outright criminal could be the wing leader of the premier Air Superiority wing of Equestria, the idea that he might get away with it was even more troubling. Resolving herself to the correct action, she leaned forward and signed the first and last pages, then initial the ten pages in between, and gathered them all up into a manila envelope.

This really was the best she could do; now it was up to the JAG to decide whether or not to prosecute. Either way they decided, unfortunately, was likely to lead to an embarrassment for the Guard. With that dealt with, Violetta hoped it was the last of her troubles for today.

As she picked up her coffee-cup and leaned back in her chair, tired, but satisfied with a morning's proper work, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and the very embodiment of trouble stood, at attention, in the doorway. "Majordomo Lieutenant Violetta, may we have a moment of your time?"

Dressed in her full Night Guard regalia, including that enormous cloak they all seemed to wear, the batpony 'Sergeant' Ebonshield was flanked by Specialist Sparkshower, also fully armored and at attention, though thankfully unarmed.

Violetta didn’t think she could fit that enormous polearm-spear in her office, anyways.

"At ease. What is it, Sergeant?"

Violetta glanced between the two ponies as they relaxed to parade rest -- the one, a loyal servant of the Crowns in her glorious bronze armour and white caparison, the other a complete unknown forced upon her by somepony with an awful lot of clout, dressed in black leathers and fabrics that only seemed to enhance her natural, terrible presence.

Not that she was intimidated, of course. The day a Royal Guard was in any way scared by some misfit pony-of-the-night was a long ways off. But she just knew in her heart she was going to cause trouble.

"Majordomo, in light of the recent incident at the Bridge of New Stirrups, the Great Lord Royal Engineer whom we have the distinguished privilege to guard has requested that we provide him with combat training."

‘What?’

Of all the crazy things she could have trotted in there and said, that was by far the craziest.

"Combat training? Sergeant, he's a bureaucrat, not a soldier."

She obsequiously bowed to her in a display of what was almost certainly false humility. "If it pleases the Majordomo, according to the rules of Equestria, a member of the Privy Council must by definition be invested as a Lord, and therefore may be called upon by the Crowns to serve in times of war."

Violetta shook her head. "Ridiculous! It may be in the books, Sergeant, but nopony is going to treat him as having the obligations of the gentry."

She bowed her head again. "With respect, Majordomo, Lieutenant Kilfeather treated him as exactly such, and it was in response to this incident that the request arose."

Violetta nodded. "I know, Sergeant..."

Tapping on the manila envelope, she leaned forward. "... And I'm about to send off a report that will hopefully see Kilfeather put in his place for that misconduct. I don't expect anypony else will repeat his mistake."

Specialist Sparkshower seemed to brighten up at the thought, and Violetta gave the pegasus a reassuring nod.

Trying to abduct a bright young mare like her for his own nefarious ends! 'Icepone' wasn't just a scoundrel; he was downright cold-blooded.

The batpony kept talking. "That is most gratifying, Majordomo; however, the Great Lord was most insistent. I was unfortunately unable to dissuade him from this course of action."

Violetta sighed and shook her head. Typical VIP behaviour. As soon as they get guards, they need to show how they don't really need them. It was a running private joke amongst the officers of the VIP service the only VIPs who didn't request combat training as a way to 'prove their worth' and one-up their guards were those who had actually served in the military.

She looked up at the batpony. "All right, Sergeant. So he wants combat training; give him some light stuff and leave it at that."

Leaning back, Violetta tilted her chair and shrugged her shoulders. “I can tell you from experience that VIPs tend to get tired of it pretty quickly, anyways. I don't imagine you'll have to indulge him for more than a handful of sessions."

Rather than take the instruction and leave, the batpony stood where she was, bowing again. "Thank you, Majordomo, but it was not to ask permission that we have sought you out this morning. We have rather a more interesting question: The Royal Engineer has also requested that the combat training be conducted in armor, and as he is not a pony, it would seem the normal equipment depot will not be able to provision him."

Hum. That was an interesting problem. Even when VIPs had in the past requested combat training in armor, they had all been ponies. It was a trivial matter to loan, or often, outright sell or gift them with a set of equipment from the Royal Armory. The only other kind of VIPs were visiting dignitaries, and none of them were likely to make the same kind of request. Even worse, Anonymous was a 'human,' according to his dossier, and that wasn't even a known creature in Equestria. He'd have to get the armor custom-made -- also not unusual in and of itself, since many gentleponies liked to get themselves a suit of customized, bespoke armor along with the purchase of a commission in the Guard. But custom-made, custom-fitted armor for an alien that wasn't anything like a pony in shape?

That was a tall order.

He didn't even have hooves!

"Hmm... If you're asking me if I know where he can get custom work done, I'm afraid that I don't."

As Violetta pondered the situation, a candle flickered on in her head. "But I know somewhere you could find somepony who might."

Flopping her chair forward, she grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and a quill and began to write. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's Regiment of Auxiliaries. Heard of them?"

She glanced up to find the sergeant shaking her head.

Specialist Sparkshower, however, spoke up. "Ma'am, isn't that the one composed of minotaurs and griffons and such?"

Good head on her shoulders, that one. Hopefully she could keep the Sergeant in check.

"That's right, Specialist. The Princess-Cadenza's will actually take any creature who's willing to swear allegiance to the Crowns. They even take in foreigners, and honorable service bestows citizenship."

Violetta finished scribbling, signed the paper, and rocked a blotter over everything. "If anypony in the Guard is going to know where to get custom armor, it'll be them."

Rolling up the letter, she flicked her desk-lighter on in order to melt wax for the seal. "This is a letter of introduction; they're quartered outside of Canterlot proper, in the fort protecting the satellite village of Newcastle-upon-Mare, to the southeast. Ask for the Officer of the Watch when you get there, and present them with this."

With the letter sealed, Violetta picked it up and held it out towards Specialist Sparkshower, before she suddenly yanked it back.

"...Er, you're not planning on going as well, are you, Sergeant? Could be a bit... awkward."

Mercifully, she shook her head. "No, Majordomo. I do not wish to cause a disturbance. Specialist Sparkshower will go alone. I have another duty to perform for the Great Lord."

The relief was visible on Violetta’s face as she hoofed the scroll over to Sparkshower.

"What's that, then?"

"Majordomo, I must find for the Great Lord a place suitable for the training of combat. I am given to understand from Specialist Sparkshower that the Royal Guard trains exclusively out-of-doors, in designated fields?"

Violetta nodded. "That's right."

The batpony bowed again.

‘Celestia, they really do love bowing, don't they?’

"I hope the Majordomo will understand that to train in such a public, open space seems like a most improper proposal for a Great Lord such as the Royal Engineer. Is there no indoor training facility available whatsoever?"

‘Hmm, a fair point,’ she supposed.

"I understand your objection, Sergeant, but I'm afraid there isn't anything like that suitable for more than just some very basic physical exercises. Nobles who want to learn how to fight before commissioning into the Royal Guard generally rent out or already own a private enclosure, like the quadrangle of a villa."

Ebonshield bowed again, and it was actually starting to get on her nerves a bit. "Thank you, Majordomo. Although I would have preferred to make use of an official Royal Guard facility, I do have another option available that I shall investigate. With the Majordomo's permission, may we retire?"

She nodded, and the pair gave her a salute, which Violetta returned. As they turned to go, she picked up her mug of coffee and took a sip. Something in the back of her head wondered about something the batpony just said, and she called out just as Ebonshield passed the door, having allowed Sparkshower to exit first.

"Oh, just out of curiosity, what's this 'other option' you've got, Sergeant?” Leaning back, she took another sip of her coffee.

The batpony twisted around to face her. "Majordomo, there is a training room under Canterlot mountain, in the Night Guard Rookery."

As she spoke the final words, Violetta started to choke as the lukewarm liquid went down the wrong pipe.

"... It is a most private place, and the Great Lord shall not be disturbed."

Sputtering and retching, she doubled over as the batpony just stood there, clueless. "... Are you all right, Majordomo? Can I render assistance?"

Unwilling to deal with any more of her nonsense, Violetta shook her head and waved her off with one hoof, as she clutched the other in front of her snout. In the time it took her to recover, the batpony saluted, spun around, exited the room, and closed the door.

‘Leading the Royal Engineer into that den of vipers!?’

‘Bloody Tartarus!’

And she had her orders -- she couldn't do a damn thing about it!

Next Chapter: Chapter 47 Estimated time remaining: 29 Hours, 9 Minutes