What Hath Joined Together

Chapter 5

                                                                           Habeas Corpus — Part I

Flash Sentry woke the next morning with a clear mind and clean eyes. Emboldened by his unexpectedly pleasant night, neither of his cheeks had been matted with tears during his slumber. He rose quickly, not one stumble or stagger in his step. Not one semblance of a headache or stomachache drew him back to bed or urged him to forego his duties.

Rising about thirty minutes before the trumpets would sound, Flash snuck out of his room to the showers a few levels below, mindful of the bar-stamp and Spitfire's advice. There, he took a quick shower alone, making sure that he scrubbed his left fetlock clear of the bartender's markings.

After toweling off, he rushed back up the stairs, hoping to beat or meet Greyhoof's arrival. Luckily, he slipped into his room and dried his mane before his servant arrived.

"Good morning, Flash," Greyhoof said with a light bow.

"Good morning, Greyhoof."

"Took a shower this morning, didn't you, sire?"

Flash nodded. "How could you tell?"

"Your mane's still wet." Greyhoof turned to the closet, gathering Flash's armor and shining it in preparation for his knight's return to Royal Court. "Not that it is a problem, of course. You were starting to need it," he added with a playful chuckle.

Laughing, Flash finished drying his mane, then walked over to his wardrobe and grabbed his manebrush. While he took to taming his mane, Greyhoof polished one piece of golden armor after the other in contemplative silence.

As Greyhoof went through the motions, he eyed Flash from the corner of his eye. None of Flash's typical melancholy was present. Although he wasn't whistling a jaunty tune or anything of the sort, he thought with a cheeky grin, there was a definite cheerfulness about the pegasus.

Tilting his head, Greyhoof spoke up once he had finished shining the armor. "How was your little... shindig last night, sire?"

Flash grinned. "Actually, much better than I thought it would be."

Greyhoof raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

As he gave his mane one last brush, Flash explained, "Well, first of all, the place was actually much nicer than I expected. Considering it was Steel and Spear inviting me, I was thinking that Thermals was going to be one of those little dive-bars they're always prowling around."

Greyhoof rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. Those two are always so... delightfully rustic." He motioned for Flash to approach him, chestplate in his forehooves. Flash complied, making no objection as Greyhoof snapped him into his armor.

Flash stretched a wing out to preen while Greyhoof set to work. "Second, there were... quite a lot of pegasi there, and even a few others. Everypony seemed friendly enough." Even that bartender, though I won't be taking drink recommendations from him anymore.

"Others? Non-pegasi? That is very interesting, sire."

"I thought so." Pulling a feather straight with his teeth, Flash paused for a moment before he added, "Even a few of the Wonderbolts showed up."

His tired eyes lighting up at the mention of the renowned flying team, Greyhoof's smile reappeared with a vengeance. "Wonderbolts? Really?"

Flash nodded and folded his wings back to his sides. "Really really. They were very nice, too! Not anything like I expected. I even chatted with one of them for over an hour!" He beamed at this last statement, a light blush rising up on his muzzle at the recollection. Laughing, talking with Soarin and Spitfire... Well, mostly Spitfire, since Soarin's mouth was full of pie most of the night. Not that I minded...