Sunrise.

Prince Vladimir Blueblood the 52nd, Master of Navigation, Most Eligible Bachelor in Equestria, Winner of the Stallion of the Year Award -not that there were a particular lot of nominees, he admitted- several times in a row, and Fairly Talented Dancer, if he could say so himself, stood in his bedroom at dawn. Staring out the chamber window, he found it eerily amazing how one could take delight in watching the golden light roll over the horizon even having seen it countless times before…

Right before looking away because his eyes were starting to burn.

Rubbing his eyes with a forehoof, he pondered the merits of just getting more sleep and waiting for the brightness of dawn to wake him ordinarily as opposed to this morning’s plan of action; staring out at the sky for a few hours in the dead of night. Neither helped him think, as he had hoped.

Yawning, he looked to the message one of Luna’s bat-pony guards had flown by and dropped on him the night before. Their fangs are frightening, the wings are disturbing, but stars help me, those eyes… He had, many times, weighed the pros and cons of swallowing his long-held fear and getting one of the bat-ponies’ attention and engaging them in conversation, if only to stare into their eyes the entire night. He'd even, briefly, entertained fantasies of attempting to court one, but there was an issue of them never approaching him as quite a few noblemares did.

Not that I've ever taken one of them up on their various... Offers, of course. Some might have called him a romantic, others an old-fashioned fool, but to Blueblood, it really seemed the sort of thing one should do only after marriage… Or, least until the couple were certain they loved one another deeply enough for the act to hold meaning. After all, his sister had surely waited until her wedding night to engage in such acts with her groom, no? If the Princess of Love can wait, why can’t everypony else?

Besides, the possibility of waking up drained of most of his blood always appeared toward the top of his ‘cons’ lists. One never can be too careful, no? Reading over the note again, he chuckled humorlessly at the irony of his thoughts in relation to the latest complication to his life.

Esteemed Nephew,

We have heard many a tale of your social ineptitude and, rather than sentence you to residence in a local town of eccentric, amusingly idiosyncratic ponies, decided we wish to see improvement in your behavior beginning with what we are told was the most plague-addled field; dealings with the opposite sex.

The Royal ‘We’ usually seemed to mean trouble when it came to his nocturnal aunt, Blueblood noted.

Sister has told us your past transgressions have caused minimal harm in the long run. Regardless, we task you with showing you can treat a mare, any mare, as though she were a princess.

Alternatively, we are told there is room for workers in the Earth Pony settlement of Appaloosa, should you decide to take these instructions lightly.

We have already chosen the first target lady you shall be charming and friendly toward, if only for a short while…

Blueblood couldn't help rolling his tired eyes, surely he wasn't that unpleasant, barring the occasions he may have gone just the tiniest bit overboard in driving crown-chasers away? Regardless, it was apparently either this or planting dirty trees with dirty peasants in dirt, presumably catching some local infection and being eaten by the buffalo when the others left him for dead in the desert.

Admittably a little more pessimistic than my usual predictions, he thought, but one never can be too careful…

The sleep-deprived prince would have thought about loudly objecting to such a letter some years ago, but with some of the things Celestia had sent him to do since then, there was no doubt in his mind Luna could, and would, have him far from home and wearing a filthy Stetson if he disobeyed this admittedly simple order. He read the rest of the note.

We understand there is a nice musician due to play in the palace later tomorrow evening, known to play the cello. Meet her, speak with her for a while, be friendly and polite, and report to us the interaction. We trust you would not lie to your dear aunt?

Also one of your aunts, it seems,

H. R. H. Prin

Princess Lun

Luna

Aunt Luny

Luna

Post-Script: While we much appreciate your admiration of our night, Sister says you really should sleep a little longer.

Blueblood blinked. How did she know I had been…? His eyes darted to the window, in the glimmering rays of early morning, he swore he saw the black, nightmarish blur of large bat wings disappearing from his sight. This wasn't the first time he had sat up in the early hours of the morning to stare numbly at the stars, but suspected it might be his last. Ignoring the drop of temperature in his veins at the thought of being watched by the things attached to those beautiful eyes, Blueblood drew the curtains shut, donned a simple, but elegant tailcoat, and set off in search of Octavia Philharmonica. She had played at the palace before, after all, so he shouldn't have much trouble recognizing her.

With the help of a guard, apparently fatigued with standing about doing little to nothing all night, Blueblood learned Octavia was in the performance halls, practicing her piece several hours before she was due to play for those attending. Making his way to the large, nearly empty room the classical musician occupied, he overheard something about it being part of a lullaby Octavia was practicing from a few of the other musicians setting up for their performance later.

Such a strange occupation, he thought, just sitting about making art that nopony will ever be able to enjoy once they've stopped playing, unless it was captured in one of those recorder things. As the prince, Blueblood’s own ‘profession’ largely consisted of being somepony Celestia sent to give speeches, visit foreign locales, oversee certain important events, and all that friendly noise that kept things peaceful in Equestria whenever she couldn't be there herself. In practice, he was the Whatever-Auntie-Feels-Like-Sending-Me-To-Do Pony, getting all sorts of tasks on one end of the continent or another. Maybe he’d deliver some ‘important’ relic to the griffons, maybe he’d extend an olive branch to the changelings, maybe he’d attend some crazy mask-based ceremony with the zebras, and all while never getting lost. He’d been through mountain ranges, rocky deserts, thick jungles, even the bottom of the sea on one nightmarish occasion in search of that trip’s objective. His special talent being a profound ability to find whatever he was looking for, it was sometimes a pleasant experience, walking the world like it was his alone to travel, nowhere he couldn't go.

He and his band of guards, obviously.

There were plenty of things Blueblood couldn't do, like fight off the countless monsters outside Canterlot’s reasonably safe walls, but nowhere he couldn't go. Provided Princess Celestia, or Princess Luna in this case, wasn't sending him on some errand they either couldn't or didn't want to do themselves. He remembered the cold dread that gripped him the day he overheard his taller aunt saying something about sending somepony to deal with a dragon breathing clouds of acrid smoke over the landmass, but apparently somepony else took care of that one.

Approaching the dark-haired mare, her eyes closed as she slowly drew the bow across the strings of her cello, he opened his mouth to give a short greeting before tripping over his own tired hooves and faceplanting with a resounding thud, his head inches away from the base of the instrument supported on the floor. Quickly rising to an upright position, wide awake now, he noticed Octavia hadn't even slowed her song, one eye opened quizzically as if to say ‘what are you doing?’

Shaking his head, glorious golden locks falling into place, he payed no mind to the musicians and the two guards near the door snickering at his landing and spoke. Remember, he thought, polite and… Somethingorother, it’ll come to me.

“Good morning, Miss Octavia, I understand you’re fine-tuning your work for later tonight?”

She nodded, looking at him with dull disinterest.

“The princesses have tasked me with hearing your performance prior to playing for the event, so I’ll be here to observe for a while.”

He smiled a bit, most entertainers, mares especially, rather enthusiastic about having his attention most of the time. Celestia had always smiled and thanked those that played in her court, sometimes with the odd compliment here and there, regardless of the performance itself, so Blueblood supposed that, having been more vocal about things he didn't care for in the past, his approval might have carried a bit more weight.

His brief moment of pride was thrown by the wayside, however, when Octavia’s face showed not gratitude or awe, but fear. She had apparently stopped playing as he was speaking, her eyes begging a question he couldn't put his hoof on.

“Uhm,” the prince probed, “Is there something the matter?”

The cellist’s eyes flickered to a statue of Celestia at the far end of the room, her jaw clenched with worry.

Blueblood couldn't help chuckling a little. “Oh, no need to be alarmed, just carry on for a spell and I’ll be on my way.” My way back to bed, I hope. Sitting on his haunches, he stifled a yawn as the bow was drawn across the strings again.

It was now that he actually beginning to hear the music, deep, but soft, it’s slow, elegant hum reminding him of one of many quiet walks he’d taken on early mornings while charting a region, the sun not yet risen and a permeating feeling of tranquility in his heart that spread like a gentle, flowing wave through his veins to-

Whap!

Blueblood blinked rapidly, shaking his head as he connected the dots of a slight pain by the base of his horn and Octavia holding her bow out towards him, looking rather annoyed. Had he drifted off? Not entirely sure, he reddened ever so slightly, urging her to go on with a hoof. She did, still eyeing him warily as she picked up from where she had left off.

Hearing the tune anew, he was reasonably certain he understood what made it a lullaby now, it was just so damned relaxing. Obvious, really, but he was perhaps too sleep-deprived to care right now. He could practically feel a soft blanket on his coat, it’s warmth slowly banishing the clinging cold of nig-

Whap!

“Ow!” Again, Blueblood snapped to attention to see Octavia glaring at him. Again, he heard faint laughter from the others in the room, but was too tired for snide, biting remarks. He quietly mumbled an apology and urged her to continue, which she did.

It was only minutes before he drifted out of consciousness again, which Octavia had had quite enough of. Is he taking this seriously at all? The princesses don’t just send a fellow royal to casually see their performers early! They must be expecting something special tonight, and he’s SLEEPING through the whole thing, the stupid, spoiled, self-centered…! She drew back the bow to hit him again, wondering just how much force the hard wood could withstand compared with the sleeping noble’s thick skull when she realized something.

Lullabies are meant to put ponies to sleep. She smiled, starting to giggle silently as the situation caught up with her. Hearing the princesses had sent Blueblood, not known to applaud for just anything, to hear her had been a considerable source of stress since he arrived, so she had forgotten that a relaxed, dozing listener wasn't exactly a bad thing at this moment, and he was out in minutes! Setting the cello aside for a moment, she trotted to the recently-set-up refreshments table for a drink, feeling a lot more confident about playing for the court tonight.

---

Blueblood awoke on a bench in the hallway hours later, sitting up to see a simple sign on a piece of parchment taped to the wall near him.

Royal nap in progress, do not disturb!
~H.R.H. Princess Celestia

He rubbed his eyes with his forehooves, not sure how long he had been on display like that for any traversing the halls to see. “Very funny, Auntie.”

“What do you mean?”

Blueblood jumped, his head whipping to the side to see Luna sitting on the bench beside him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Luna was a little less patient.

“You have failed in your task, young prince!”

He shrunk back a little. “T-task?”

“To hold pleasant conversation and friendly relation with the musician, do you not recall?”

He did, that he had been found sleeping on a bench and nowhere near Octavia at the moment made mentioning what little time he had spent with her seem moot. It was difficult to tell if his nocturnal aunt was angry, annoyed, or if that slight scowl was just her default expression. “I-I, it was-“

“SILENCE!” As ever, the Royal Canterlot Voice did no favors for the his mane. Luna smiled, raising a hoof triumphantly. “We have a new task with which you may prove yourself!”

“Wh-what? I-“

“On our way to collect your report in dealing with the cellist, we were informed a pony in need of company in the city.” She pointed at him with a hoof. “You will alleviate this mare’s stress and make her feel loved, respected, and not fat!”

Blueblood could only tilt his head quizzically.

Luna looked uncertain how to phrase her next thoughts. “She is practically skin and bone, we are told, reminiscent of those… Models? And their eating disorders. We believe her name was… Fleur de Lis?”

Fleur? Fancy Pants’s hanger-on? Fancy Pants was one of few ponies Blueblood actually kindof admired, if only for his perpetual enthusiasm. He couldn't remember the last time he saw one of them without the other nearby, but had his doubts about being the one for her to cling to if the older stallion wasn't around. He briefly tried to explain that perhaps his dealing with Fleur wasn't the best idea, but Luna wouldn't hear of it, insisting that, in addition to the quest she’d set him on, he owed her for the time she spent waiting for him to wake up on the bench they currently occupied.

“Why didn't you just wake me?”

Luna indicated the sign her sister had left. “Can you not read?”

Blueblood facehoofed.

Author's Notes:

I know nothing about cellos, pianos, or the layout of Canterlot Castle.