Disaster.

Heavy, twin doors slammed shut as Prince Blueblood tiredly dragged himself to the nearest bench of those surrounding the fountain in the center of the castle art display chamber. It was a fairly large, round room with no windows, as less than controlled lighting could make viewing displays the way they were intended difficult. Instead, the chandelier high above the fountain illuminated just about everything to an equal degree, paintings, sculptures, and the shimmering water of the porcelain fountain.

Celestia's disappearance had been a disaster, no doubt about it. Oh, certainly, he'd been able to prevent outright chaos and riots with some clever word choice and a bit of lying, but standing in for Celestia when the sun failed to rise on the day of the Summer Sun Celebration had proven to be the most exhaustive experience of his life. Guards scrambling their forces, nobles squabbling over whose fault it had to be that the Princess of the Sun, in a different town at the time, hadn't completed her most famous daily errand yet, and the rest of those he saw just silently screaming at him through their eyes. 'please just raise the sun, please let everything be okay.'

Flopping down on the bench, not a thought spared to how it might dishevel his fur, (he'd kept the perfectly pristine appearance of a calm, confident ruler the whole time, of course) Blueblood breathed a sigh of relief. At least she finally came back. At least it's over now. He laid there staring at the ceiling and listening to the waters of the fountain for an uncertain measure of time, not quite regretting the day he'd been born, but not 100% pleased to have been the pony who had to fill in for his aunt every now and then.

Everything apart from the fountain again silent, Octavia Philharmonica peered out from the side of the fountain opposite the side with the door. She didn't see anypony, but knew for a fact that somepony had entered, she even heard them sighing! Being caught in the palace while the royal guards were practically tripping over themselves to find somepony to pin the blame for the sun not rising on didn't sound the least bit appealing, moreso since she was probably supposed to have gone home to wait for news like everypony else. It's not my fault, she thought, carefully peering around for the source of the sounds she'd just heard, with everypony running around yelling at eachother, I just wanted somewhere to hide! That somewhere had been working pretty well up to this point, the door hadn't opened until just moments ago, despite her fears of somepony coming in, finding her, and throwing her in a dungeon for one reason or another. These fears only intensified when she tried to muster the will to leave and go home, visions of irate ponies in golden armor hauling her off for questioning dissuading her will to try any harder.

Now, though, things had just changed. She was alone in here for hours waiting for a sign that the day (literally!) had been saved or ended for good, but now somepony was in here with her, which meant she either had to confront them or slip out unnoticed. Carefully pacing around the fountain, she caught sight of a big, white lump on one of the benches. Daring to move closer, she found it to be a pony she recognized. Lying on his back, eyes closed, she guessed he was asleep. He looked so peaceful.

Glancing toward the door, she was struck by a familiar old enemy; Indecision. Prince Blueblood is perhaps the highest-ranking mortal in Equestria, if anypony knows exactly what's going on, it would be him...

She looked at the door again. But, now is the ideal time to sneak out of here, isn't it? He doesn't seem to know I'm here, I could open and close the door almost silently if I'm careful.

And back to Blueblood. And yet, maybe he knows something really important? Like whether or not the crisis has ended? Or maybe he'd just call the guards on me if I woke him...

Door. Come to think of it, how do I know there aren't guards right outside?! Would they listen if I told them I was just hiding? Are there rules against hiding in here?

Blueblood. I bet he would know, but that returns me to an earlier problem...

As she stood silently debating 'what if's in her head, the prince opened his eyes again, immediately jumping with shock at the sight of the dark-haired mare that had snuck up on him. "AAAAAAHHH!"

"AAAAAAHHH!" She repeated, if involuntarily, falling backward.

He sat up, straightened his mane, brushed ruffly fur down with a hoof as best he could, and sat staring straight ahead. "Y-yes, what do you need, citizen?"

Hastily sitting up herself, Octavia blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Is it illegal to hide in here?!"

He raised an eyebrow, face otherwise impassive. "I, uh, no, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

Not in trouble so far, splendid! "I've been in here for a while, since a little after the commotion started, but hadn't seen anypony else come in, so I wondered..."

He nodded a little, still not looking directly at her. "This gallery isn't utilized often, partially due to it's location in the castle, partially due to it's small size in comparison to the art halls around Canterlot."

She scratched the back of her head with a hoof, speaking before she realized her words. "So it makes a better place to sleep...?"

He did look directly at her now, and she noticed that his wide eyes were bloodshot and bag-laden. "That, I-I, it was, I, uh..." He started quickly looking about for some kind of answer, but a flicker of understanding rippled through Octavia's mind.

She spoke quietly, head tilted inquisitively. "Uhm... Prince Blueblood, if you don't mind my asking... How long have you been performing like this?"

"What?!"

She nodded, stepping closer. "The look on your face? It's one I've seen more than once. It's a pony wearing a mask that doesn't fit them, but one they can't take off, for one reason or another." Octavia felt completely calm now. "Am I right?"

Blueblood nodded, trying to wipe the fatigue from his eyes with a hoof. "I have a job to do, if ponies suspect I'm not as competent in looking after Equestria as Auntie Celestia when I need to be-"

She smiled. "Not to worry, I think I know the feeling."

He tilted his head, allowing his face to droop a little now. "Oh?"

Her smile was sheepish, but genuine. "They don't just let any silly filly play in a Canterlot ensemble, you know."

He blinked twice. "Oh. Ohh! I recognize you now, Octavia the Cellist? You're always so silent, in performance and out, so impassive, so..."

She shrugged a little. "Stoic?"

"Yes... They don't let you play if you can't keep a perfectly straight face?"

"Perhaps," she said with a frown, "but, well..." She waved a forehoof over her forehead, which pointedly didn't collide with anything pointy.

"Ah..." He regarded her with sympathy, the Canterlot job market could be notoriously unfair as it was on account of certain... prejudices, doubly so for anypony that wasn't a unicorn. There were those who, through things like talent (the Wonderbolts) or popularity with the masses (Photo Finish and Sapphire Shores) broke this little barrier, of course. An earth pony playing an instrument, she must have had to jump through a few extra hoops to get where she is...

That wasn't to say that outright bigotry was accepted in Canterlot, but it seemed like the wealthier ponies were usually unicorns whereas earth ponies and pegasi typically lived in less glamorous districts. There were all manner of theories on this, from lack of drive on the part of those not living it up as nobility, to those in power showing tribal favoritism, to this just always being how things were. It wasn't an earth-shattering divide between residents of the city, but certainly a matter of discontent when it came up.

"I must maintain a picture of elegance and refinement befitting of the finest establishments in Equestria... So," she asked with a faint grin, "may I assume you never seem to emote much for the same reasons?"

The reply was mildly indignant. "I emote perfectly fi-"

Octavia held up a placating hoof. "Yes, you convey feelings, but only the same few, from what I've seen watching you at formal gatherings. Princely Smile, Princely Nod, Princely Chuckle only when situations warrant the right response, as though reading from a script."

His ears folded back. "T-there are certain expectations of-"

He was silenced with a hoof gently pressed to his lips, the cellist quietly replying with a smile that said 'I know.'

After a few seconds, the two of them blushed, pulling away and averting eye contact. Octavia remembered what initially brought her here. "Um, so uh, h-how is everything out there?"

The prince looked at her with a curious head tilt. "Hm?"

She nodded toward the door. "You know, with the-"

"Oh!" He grinned. The practiced Princely Grin. "Not to worry, Princess Celestia has returned, raised the sun, and everything is under control."

"Good, good..." There was a sensation at the back of Octavia's head that she might incur royal wrath of some sort for her next sentence, but she was dying to ask. "Do you ever get tired of pretending?"

The answer was immediate, even if his expression didn't change in the slightest. "Very. You?"

She giggled. "Yes!"

They quietly laughed together for several seconds before Blueblood spoke again, his grin just slightly more relaxed. "Well, I suppose you can head home now, everything is under control with Princess Celestia's return." He scratched his head with a hoof, a gesture she'd never seen him do in any of the public appearances she'd been there for. "Even brought her sister back from the dead or something, I didn't really ask."

Ignoring the little voice in the back of her head telling her she should be shocked that he just vaguely accused the Princess of the Sun of practicing necromancy, there was something else at the forefront of Octavia's attention. She gave a small smile, averting eye contact. "I, um... I wouldn't mind staying here a while longer, some of the exhibits are rather interesting."

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "So interesting that hardly anypony ever comes in to see them, yes."

Despite a shy blush working it's way onto her face, she noticed him patting the spot on the bench next to him with a hoof. Gingerly taking a seat, she sat beside him in silence for several minutes, the two enjoying the tranquil sounds of the fountain.

Octavia spoke first. "So, why did you come in here? Aren't your own chambers much more quiet and secluded?"

Blueblood chuckled. "Perhaps, but that's the first place anypony who needs something is likely to come looking for me. This is one of the few places in the palace I can go to just be by myself for a while."

"Sorry."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, looking at the only other pony he'd seen in this room in a few months.

She smiled somewhat guiltily. "My coming in here? It looked like you were trying to sleep before-"

"Oh! Please, don't worry about it. If anything, I..." His eyes momentarily locked on a portrait of a pony-shaped pile of armor, possibly from centuries ago. "I wouldn't mind seeing you more often."

Grey fur tinged red, but she smiled regardless. "I th-think I'd like to see you too." A thought occurred to her, like a foul aftertaste. "But, we'd have to be careful, what with the-"

His ears drooped. "Oh, yea. Forgot about that." He took up a mock-haughty pose, projecting an air of self-importance to go with it. "Can't have a lazy noble seen with a common workhorse, can we?" The pose fell, and he just looked tired again. "Even if neither label really holds up under scrutiny."

She would have giggled at the impression, but the sentiment was a little too sad. While not even close to nobility herself, Octavia was far from poor. Or having to do manual labor. "The main derogatory term for the wealthy is 'snobby jerks', actually."

He blinked. "Oh. I guess that actually does sortof fit, then, for most."

Now she smiled. "How badly do you think ponies would react if we were seen together?"

The prince winced. "Do you remember my brief relationship with Sapphire Shores?"

"Oh!" She nodded once, 'Crown Prince and Pony of Pop' had been all over the newspapers for weeks. "Yes... What happened there?"

He scowled. "I had... hoped that being with an earth pony -or even a pegasus- of her standing would persuade the rest of the Canterlot Elite to let go of the tribal stigmas, to stop shaming eachother behind their hooves for consorting with those of different social strata. But then, I realized I was dating Sapphire Shores, with whom I had absolutely nothing in common."

"Ah."

"It was ironic, you know, her loud, colorful personality might have been just the thing this city needed more of, if it didn't drive me up a wall."

"If it wasn't an act too?"

"Pardon?"

She nodded once. "The Pony of Pop? I wouldn't be surprised if she had certain expectations to live up to as well."

Blueblood groaned. It was a can of worms he didn't want to open this moment. "Anyway, nopony apparently learned anything and the whole thing was treated as a standard scandal, on par with a romantic affair despite my not being married." He looked to her with sad, weary eyes. "Do you know the worst part of it all?" When she only shook her head lightly, he continued. "I bet nopony really even cares deep down, that they stick to expectation more out of fear of how other ponies, who do the exact same thing, will react than any actual personal issue regarding the affiliation of one sort of pony, one sort of ANYTHING, with another, like the family trees and gene pools are of anypony's concern but those within them! I bet I could find all kinds of non-unicorn pairings in even the so-called 'purest' family lines, not just in Canterlot, but in Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and..." He blinked, starting to blush. "I'm ranting a bit, aren't I?"

Octavia giggled. "I prefer to think of it as rambling, sounds a little less crazy."

He extended a hoof outwardly as though giving a royal proclamation. "Rambling it shall be, then!"

Once more, the two shared a laugh before quietly staring into eachother's eyes, small grins lingering on their faces.

"Well," the cellist said, "I should probably be heading home, but," she averted her eyes, "umm...?"

"I, I-I'm sure," Blueblood uttered, "that if we kept things quiet, we could still see one another without raising a fuss..."

She smiled sheepishly, re-establishing eye-contact. "I perform in the palace sometimes..."

His voice gained a modicum of confidence. "A-and I can visit any performance hall in the city, just on leisure!"

"We'd have to be careful about being in the same places as eachother too often, I think."

"True, I'm not sure speaking with one another in public is safe either."

"But still-"

"I think-"

They spoke in unison, grinning. "I'll see you again soon!"

Octavia hopped off the bench, moving towards the door. "I'm not sure where I'll be hired next, but I'll be practicing."

The prince, leaning comfortably on the bench, nodded once. "I can most likely check the entertainment arrangements of most establishments before-hoof. Take care, Miss Octavia."

She smiled back at him, nodded once, opened the door, quickly slipped out, and shut it again, leaving him alone. For real this time.

He immediately flopped over and fell asleep, it had been a very, very long night.

Author's Notes:

You know those stories that have something happen in a background white-noise kind of way to the episodes of the show as much as possible? That's pretty much the plan here. As it takes place in Canterlot and BB and Octavia are both very minor characters, we won't be seeing much of Twilight's adventures, but I promise some eventual overlap!

Also, yes, I'm going with the interpretation of classism and slightly stigmatized interaction of tribes in Canterlot, but with more than just unicorns looking down on everypony else. I don't really get that impression from the show, but it makes for story material.