What Hath Joined Together

Chapter 2

                                                                               A Sheep All Your Life

Flash Sentry knocked three times on Captain Ironhoof's door. There was no trembling in any of his limbs as he waited for a response. Even as a few agonizingly long seconds ticked by, he stood tall—almost proud, if he would have believed pride to be a virtue rather than a vice. He kept his hooves firmly on the ground, not fidgeting with his armor or his forehooves.

Waiting to accept his fate.

A lion for a day, he thought, taking a deep breath through his nostrils. With his mane combed to perfection and the bristles on his helmet tamed straight, he resembled the mighty beast Greyhoof had reminded him to be. He hoped his heart would match the lion's courage.

When the door finally swung open, there was no stammering Serving Bell standing before him this time, nor any hasty apologies or enthusiastic bows.

There was just Ironhoof, stone and statue and silent.

Clad in shining purple armor, the Captain stood tall as he looked down at his underling. His eyes narrowed, his muzzle pulled into a taut, stoic expression, and his nostrils flared. Captain Ironhoof said not a word. Even so, Flash heard everything, loud and clear.

"Captain," Flash greeted, bowing low. "I understand that you wanted to see me, sir?"

"Come in," Ironhoof said gruffly, taking a step away from the door. Flash bowed again and slowly entered, avoiding his superior's gaze.

Inside, a fine array of breakfast platters littered the Captain's desk. Pancakes and syrup, toast with butter and jam, omelettes with fresh vegetables and fine cheeses, fresh fruits of every color—all tempted Flash's nostrils, making his stomach growl in protest.

Suppressing the urge to leap upon the bounty and devour it before Ironhoof's eyes, Flash did not respond to his stomach's call as he took the chair opposite the Captain's.

Captain Ironhoof sat down beside him, his posture as rigid as his namesake. He sat up straight in his chair and stared daggers at his underling while he crossed his forehooves in front of him. The meal went untouched, sending pleasant aromas high to the heavens and both hungry stallion's snouts.

Ironhoof didn't move. He stared, eyes fixated on drilling into Flash's pupils.

Flash Sentry, wondering if perhaps a breach of more minute protocol would be justified, contemplated speaking up. The silence growing between them was thick and heavy—almost nauseating.

A lion for a day. Look proud on your last day, Flash willed himself, utilizing every muscle in his body to sit quietly in his chair.

On other days, he might have tapped his hindhooves against the carpet, or his forehooves on the desk, or adjusted his shoulder-guards or the blue bristles on his golden helmet. He might have coughed and cleared his throat, or shifted position in the chair until he was sure he would tip it over.

Not today.

Ironhoof's nostrils flared after a few more thick seconds of silence, his eyes still narrowed and locked on the pegasus. He sparked his horn and let a tendril of magic wander across the table. He selected a strawberry, then brought it to his mouth.

Ironhoof chewed. Flash sat.

After swallowing, Captain Ironhoof darted his gaze from the platter of delicacies to the pegasus guard, then back again. He cleared his throat and wiped his muzzle with a fetlock, finally averting his eyes from Flash Sentry's for a momentous millisecond.