The Blueblood Chronicles
by Rune Soldier Dan
First published
Blueblood just wants to be left alone. prince-chasing mares and high society have other plans.
Blueblood just wants to run his charity and be left alone, but High Society - and starry-eyed mares - have other plans.
He's not a good stallion, but maybe he's a better one than even he would guess. Now if only he'd stop being so cynical...
Chapter 1: Grand Galloping Disaster
Dear Diary,
…"Dear Diary?" How cliché can I get? I've never been big on the idea of diaries. What do you write on normal days? "Dear Diary, today I ate hay, worked, and went back to bed. Hay was yellow, bed was soft."
No, not going to happen. I'm only doing this because Helperton gave me this little pocket journal. When I told him my opinion of daily diaries, he said just to use it to record interesting things that happen, smashing ideas that come to my head, or good events that make a day a little better. On a terrible day, then, I can page back and recall better moments.
Which I guess is a good idea. At least it'll help me keep my end of the E.E. organized.
Until next time, Diary. Presuming I don't put you in a drawer and forget you. Wait, why am I bidding farewell to an inanimate book? Ah, well.
Yours,
Prince Blueblood.
PS: "E.E." stands for Egalitarian Equestrians. It's a group of…oh, nevermind. Maybe next time.
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Dear Diary,
I'm back with you, for some reason. Mostly just killing time until my two co-conspirators show up. Aunt Celly caught me leaving the palace this evening, but I had my excuse of visiting Prince Luxury at the ready. The fact that I still was able to come meant it fooled her completely.
Okay, maybe she didn't buy it. Our dear Princess Celestia's eyes watered like I just told an uproarious joke, and she was struck by a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like disguised laughter. But for the Sun's sake, I'm a grown stallion! And there's nothing wrong with a grown stallion enjoying a Friday evening at the pub with his friends.
Great, she probably thinks I'm sneaking out to see some filly-friend.
Actually, that wouldn't be so bad. If rumor spreads that I have a mare, maybe I'll stop getting marriage proposals eight days a week.
Yours,
Prince Blueblood
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Dear Diary,
The evening at the pub went about as well as expected. Which meant that it was productive, but I was ready to start a very unprincely brawl by the end of it.
First, a moment of introduction. Helperton and Star Gazer are the friends I meet at the Grapevine Pub every Friday evening. Helperton is an earth pony, dark blue in color with a bushy brown tail and, oddly, beard. He is inordinately fond of his facial fuzz and welcomes any attention to it. He goes about in a monocle and top hat, and has a deep voice and squinty eyes. His cutie mark is two white hooves bumped together in a hoofshake. Helperton has a quiet demeanor, kindly personality, and will never, ever, ever be able to save money for himself.
Star Gazer is one of those cases where a pony's name doesn't always match up to his direction in life. He does not, in fact, like star gazing, and nothing about him implies stars, night, or any other related symbolism. He's a pegasus of faded green color, like green paint mixed with too much yellow. His true-green mane and tail are always combed very well in the morning, yet have a way of becoming a mess by noon. Star Gazer is short and scrappy, and tireless once he has a goal in mind. He has – and we never let him hear the end of it – a large pink heart as his cutie mark.
And then there's me. Prince Blueblood, nephew to Princess Celestia. White coat, blue eyes, etc. You know me. I mean, I know me. I mean…
Whatever. Dumb diary.
Together, us three founded the "Egalitarian Equestrians Reaching a Helping Hoof," usually just called the E.E. Some ponies prefer "Helping Hooves," but I rather like "Egalitarian Equestrians."
Names aside, it's not a hollow boast to say we're one of the largest and most effective charity organizations in Equestria. I wouldn't trade Equestria for anything, but our aristocrat-led consumerist society does have its share of "have-nots." Particularly in winter months, many orphans and families go without basic necessities such as…
Ugh, I'm not going to preach to myself. Poverty is a problem. We help people get through it. We do a lot of good, and I'm proud of myself. E.E. was originally those two colts going door to door with tin cups, trying to support a few soup kitchens. They managed to sneak into a Grand Galloping Gala one year to gather donations. The pair got a lovely firsthand view of me being a royal jerk to the prince-chaser of the evening. It's definitely a credit to their courage that they took their case to that horribly abrasive stallion, Prince Blueblood.
I had an image to maintain, so I hid my interest as best as I could until we were alone in the gardens. That's a trick I learned the year before we met. Everything that is Anything that happens at the Gala goes on indoors, so if you want to get away (and why wouldn't you?), head to the gardens. Suffice to say, I was in search of a purpose at the time. And lucky colt that I am, the purpose came searching for me. We talked for hours, the three of us growing more excited with each idea exchanged. I had money and contacts, but no clue how to use them. They gave me that clue. And with me offering more than just a handout, I feel I inspired them to think a little bigger than a few cans of soup.
So we've been at it for a few years. I provide financing and noble connections, Helperton gives the organizational skills and common sense, and Star Gazer has the ideas and energy. The E.E. has grown to be more than just us, almost being a business itself. But we're still at its head, leading it forward.
Well, those two are its leaders. A background role suits me much better. If it became known I was some philanthropic do-gooder, I wouldn't be able to beat the mares back with horn and hoof.
Anyway, that's us.
Yours,
Prince Blueblood
PS: I didn't really write about the meeting, did I? Maybe tomorrow.
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Okay, quick addendum after rereading my entry yesterday, so no one gets the wrong impression of my attitude towards mares.
I'm not a colt-cuddler. I look forward to having a wonderful wife one day. But I want her to love me because I'm Blueblood. Not "Prince" Blueblood, but simply "Blueblood." Noble daughters try to seduce me because I'm wealthy and marriage would raise their own station. Being Princess Celestia's nephew pretty much puts me as high on the noble ladder as can be attained by mortals, making me the number one target for those seeking advancement. Others dress me up in their minds as some perfect Prince Charming who will carry them away from all their worldly troubles.
Experience has taught me that neither type is good at listening. If I refuse them reasonably and politely, they take that as a sign to try harder. Or worse, they think I'm just being coy with them and returning the affection "in my own way."
The quickest and most effective way of driving them back is by acting in the most abrasive, self-centered manner I can possibly perform. Making them hold the door open for me once or twice is usually enough to make even the most zealous give up the chase. Ideally this will have the added effect of making me less sought-after, but I guess word doesn't spread fast among starry-eyed mares. Every noble event I attend, I end up having to resort to the Prince Badblood routine.
Aunt Celly says I need to get out more in high society. She said that somehow being more visible will reduce the 'mysterious reclusive mystique' that draws fillies to me. Celly's wise in most matters, but she doesn't get it. They don't want me because I'm mysterious, they want me because I'm rich and a prince. Attending more events will just present more opportunities for mares to throw themselves at me. Furthermore, I HATE noble parties – each one is a clear demonstration that ponies born with every want fulfilled can still want more. Upper class parties are just a chance to scheme and preen. And when not doing those, all the lords and damsels sip from jeweled chalices and complain, fancying themselves hard-put or unlucky. Meanwhile, outside their door is a wandering family wondering when they'll eat next.
Preening, self-centered Canterlot elite. I want nothing to do with them.
You know, I've never expressed those feelings except in this diary. Maybe this isn't such a silly idea after all.
Which, reviewing this page, makes me realize a bit of a quandary. I want a mare who loves me for the real me. But if I meet a pretty one who knows I'm a prince, her affection for me is inevitably colored by my title. So I can't have her know the real me…so she can love the real me? How does that make any sense?
Star Gazer says I should take cue from children's stories. Of the beggars and drifters our kitchens feed, pick one and approach her incognito. I would then woo her, and once we have confessed our love to each other reveal myself as Prince Blueblood. I would then carry her away to a white castle and we would live happily ever after.
Yes, I do actually live in a white castle. But no. No, no, no. Call me a romantic, but love isn't something you go looking for. It's something that hits you when you least expect it. Following his advice would just be fishing for a lucky winner who has a nice flank. It would be unscrupulous, and it is not how I want to meet Ms. Right.
Not that I'm making any progress romantically at present. But I'm content as a bachelor.
Rambled on again, did I? Oh well.
Yours,
Prince Blueblood.
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Dear Diary,
Okay, so, the meeting. And I'm going to write a lot. I confess, I'm starting to find this enjoyable.
We enter and exchange pleasantries, Star Gazer insisting on "bro hoofing" with me. It's like a hoofshake, only louder. Before we get down to business, we make fairly predictable side-talk. I offer interesting gossip on Princess Celestia (and more recently, Princess Luna). Talking about the foibles of such-and-such noble goes right over their heads, but who doesn't want to hear about what Celly does when she's not running the country?
They've been pressing me for news on the younger princess, but honestly I haven't really spoken to Luna yet.
Anyway, Star Gazer's gossip is hit or miss. Sometimes he offers interesting news or ghosts of ideas we are later able to nurture and develop. Sometimes he just sticks with "buck" puns.
Quite mature, our pegasus.
Helperton doesn't usually say much as we're cracking open our first hard ciders. He mostly offers a single sentence at a time, asking a question or making an observation. Sometimes his observations are insightful. Sometimes they're obvious. When I commented on the reclusiveness of the younger princess, he offered "Well, she is the princess of the night." And he spoke it very sagely, as if the fact wasn't known by everypony in Equestria.
The meat of the meetings really aren't any more formal. We talk about how the week went, which for me involves how much money I was able to shake from my fellow nobles. Guilt and high breeding are my usual weapons, and they fare quite well.
At least, they work well most of the time. I am both remarkably well and ill positioned for procuring financing: my royal status gives me access to many funds, but little is actually under my control. Generally, I try to make do by scooping from my own independent resources, guilting my peers, and making sure the right paperwork reaches the right hooves for grants, tax breaks and the like.
We had a bit of a scuff later in the meeting. Star Gazer and I were quite excited about our "Reaching Hooves" project. It's ambitious, but here's the idea: We take as many poor families as possible and help them get the resources to raise their little ponies safe and healthy. Sounds typical, right? Well the idea here is that we follow the children, make sure they stay in school, encourage them as they figure out their cutie marks, and then help them get employment. I was quite proud when Star Gazer used me as an example, saying, "Which would've been better? Blueblood just giving us a handout? Or him sticking with it, the way we'll stick with these kids?"
Helperton was less enthusiastic. Reaching one of his rare grouchy moods, he kept rumbling "don't forget about the has-beens." He pointed out that we already had two free schools and a center for families, but absolutely no program to help care for the destitute elderly. He wanted a senior center, and we went back and forth for a while in low argument.
We reached something of a compromise, but honestly Star Gazer and I won that round. We agreed to start organizing Reaching Hooves, and promised to keep the idea of an old ponies' home on the table. Which is a pretty silly promise since it had been on the table for a while, but it let Helperton down easy.
The last part of the evening comes after the direction for the next week had already been discussed. Each of us is slightly inebriated, and we boast a bit, joke a bit, and sling a few good-natured jibes back and forth. The primary target of the jibes is rarely Helperton – he has few obvious flaws to target. Star Gazer's brash personality makes him easily needled, but I definitely caught the worst of it this week. The other two are not invited, but they know.
The Grand Galloping Gala is approaching soon.
Somewhere out there is at least one filly who thinks that it will be her night of destiny. She will shine out amongst the herd and catch the eye of her dear Prince Blueblood. He will be captivated by her beauty, ask for her hoof in marriage, and take her away to live happily ever after in royal opulence.
Bleh.
I know it's all in good fun, but Helperton and Star Gazer just wouldn't stop. They speculated on what she would look like, if she would have any redeeming qualities to tempt me, whether two contestants would filly-fight over me, and more. Perhaps I would hide in a closet only to discover one had laid in wait for me there, or perhaps my Prince Badblood routine would be a royal turn-on for one.
"Oh Blueblood, you're sooooo bad," Star Gazer cooed in an imitation filly voice.
And he's actually a year older than me. Seriously.
I was peeved enough by the end of it that I may have started a fight. Which would've been…well, bad to explain to Aunt Celly once I got arrested. Luckily, I think they saw they were pushing me too far and left off. Star Gazer changed the subject fluidly, asking me to go to an entertainment show with him on Sunday. It was probably an indirect apology, and I accepted.
Yours, (why do I say 'Yours' to a diary? Aren't you mine?)
Prince Blueblood
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Dear Diary,
Got a bit of a pop culture lesson. When it comes to the Great and Powerful Trixie, either you get it or you don't.
Star Gazer gets it. He was whooping and stomping all throughout the show. He happily shouted out her name along with her, and exchanged gossip with other fans about all the feats she supposedly is capable of.
Now I, I do not get it. I look at her and I see a unicorn that can use magic. Big deal.
No, scratch that. I see a LOUD. OBNOXIOUS. EGOTISTICAL unicorn that can use magic. And here these foals are, cheering her on to greater and greater boasts. Maybe some earth ponies and pegasi I can understand, but there were magic-using unicorns celebrating as loudly as the rest.
It is a consolation that, on examining the crowd, I wasn't the only one who seemed vaguely befuddled as to why everypony was so happy so see her.
The Gala is next week. This is a very small, very sarcastic yay.
Mine, (Okay, that sounds dumb. We'll stick with the traditional.)
Yours,
Prince Blueblood
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Dear Diary,
Had to try. Very quietly, very privately, I approached Aunt Celly and asked if I could skip the Grand Galloping Gala.
"Oh come on Blueblood," Celestia said. Her horn glowed, and she magically began fussing over me: straightening my collar, combing down a few errant strands of my mane, polishing my buttons, and generally mothering me. Usually I enjoyed this kind of attention from her – from day one, my own mother was too busy preening and attending garden parties to waste time with my appearance. There were always servants on hand for that, but it's different with Aunt Celly. You know, it feels 'motherly' and all that. She knows my parents are indifferent ones, and she's probably a little lonely at the top. I like to think that her fussing over my appearance is good for both of us.
"It'll be good for you," she cooed, and I almost believed her. "Make some friends! Talk to ponies. If you just assume the worst in everypony you'll never expand your horizons. Give them a shot."
"A shot at me," I grumbled. Aunt Celly doesn't know about my involvement with the E.E. (probably), but she's well aware of the act I put on to dissuade attention. She doesn't approve, but at least she respects me enough to leave it be.
"Who knows? Maybe you'll meet somepony you want to shoot back at." She stepped forward and nuzzled my mane, ruining the efforts of her combing.
"So I take it that's a 'yes, I have to go?'"
"Yep!" She said, entirely too cheerfully.
"But Luna doesn't have to go!" (Okay, I was grasping at straws at this point.)
Aunt Celly raised an eyebrow and met my look. "If you were trying to catch up on a thousand years of change, I'd let you skip a social function or two as well. I don't like going either, but it's one royal responsibility I'm not about to let slide."
I groaned. "So if you have to go, I have to go."
She chuckled and kissed me on the cheek. "It won't be that bad."
Maybe she's right. Can't hurt to try to have a good time, can it?
Yours,
Prince Blueblood
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Dear Diary,
Actually exchanged my first real words with Princess Luna today. It wasn't much – we happened to be in the parlor alone as the day wound down. We talked a little about her studies, and my envy for her dodging of the Gala. She was surprised at this. Having never been to one herself, she was under the naïve impression it was the grandest and most fun of all parties. I guess she found my own opinion amusing, as she was struck with a fit of giggles at my description of the Canterlot elite. She looked so darn cute smiling that I kept going, doing a few choice impersonations and confiding that my time would likely be occupied evading a prince-chaser. The giggles turned to full laughs, and she clopped her hooves together in applause at my impersonation of Courtly Attire's choicest proposal to Aunt Celly.
After the laughter subsided she looked at me – really looked at me – for the first time.
"You know…I'm your aunt, too."
That led to a whole different conversation. Long story short, she asked me to call her "Aunt Luna," I said I would try, but it would take time. I grew up with Aunt Celly. Suddenly having another divine aunt will take some getting used to, but I'd say we're off to a good start.
Yours,
Blueblood
PS: Oh, wait just a second there. Almost forgot the other big event of the evening. A delightful little piece of gossip: I happened to briefly overhear Celly and Luna talking, and following some comment by Celly, Luna defensively said "You leave Abby out of this!"
Who is this "Abby?" A colt-friend, or perhaps even a filly? Maybe my dear Aunt Luna is not as childlike as she appears! This is the juiciest bit of gossip I've ever learned firsthoof. I'll make a few subtle inquiries, see if I can find out more.
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Okay, what I said last time about "Abby?" Forget it, just…forget it. I found out and…
Fine, it's her pet name for her abacus. I'm not even joking. She introduced me to it.
And I shall never write of it again.
Gala's in three days. Still trying to be optimistic.
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Dear Diary,
My optimism took a hit when I found out Fancy Pants is sick and can't make it. We get along fabulously, him and I, well enough that his presence makes these events almost worth attending.
He revels in high society, and society doesn't get much higher than the Gala. He must be badly ill to miss it. I'll visit him tomorrow.
(And hopefully catch whatever he's got)
Yours,
Blueblood
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Dear Diary,
No such luck with the last entry. I visited him, and he was quite green (his natural color is white). But here I am, in a quiet corner at the Gala, healthy as a horse.
At least I don't have it as bad as Aunt Celly. She's stuck in the entry hall, pretending to be happy to see every self-important twerp filing past. She knows I usually like to duck out to the gardens as early as possible, and gave me very specific instructions to stay in the halls for at least half of the party. "A compromise," she said, which sounds a lot to me like "I have to suffer, so you do too."
So. Quiet corner, low profile. I've been lucky so far. A few familiar faces have dropped pleasantries, but no starry-eyed types to be seen.
Why tempt fate? I can't leave the grounds without Celly or a guard seeing me, but I can retreat to my usual hiding place.
Adieu, Grand Galloping Gala. Don't wait up.
---------------
Gave a quick glance behind me as I stepped out. I don't think anyone noticed. There's bound to be a few ponies about, but the gardens are a lot quieter. More importantly, I'm a lot less visible.
I like the gardens a lot, but never so much as during the Gala. Inside it's stuffy and noisy. Here the air is fresh and just chilly enough to be pleasant. It's quiet and dark, letting me be alone with my own thoughts. Feeling the wind
Crud, I'll be right back
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Oh, Sweet Princess Celestia, save me, I swear I'll do anything if you get me out of this. I'll even stop trying to borrow your shampoo, just SAVE ME!
In the little colts' room right now, hoping she'll go away. It turns out a filly did see me leave for the gardens, followed, and announced her presence just as I was writing how much I enjoyed being alone. This one's a white-coated mare with diamonds as a cutey mark.
Diamonds. Probably some aristocrat's spawn who bathed in them since birth. Having jewelry as a cutie mark is usually a good tip that a mare is a shallow bit-grubber.
I can't remember her name, but it's some classic 'Look at me, I'm so special!' name. 'Precious,' Maybe?
'Desired?'
'Elusive?' Wait, that's a colt's name.
Whatever.
Of course I immediately hit her with my custom-patented "Prince Badblood" routine. I really thought I'd be able to ditch her within a few minutes. She set up for my act wonderfully, pointing out a rose that she was no doubt hoping I'd offer. The flinch on her face when I attached it to my own jacket was priceless. When I had her open the door for me to walk back in, I really thought this was going to be easy.
But she just won't quit! Opening doors. Getting me drinks. Being nudged into reluctantly complimenting my mane. I even had her drop part of her gown on a puddle so I could trod over it. Come on, that would make anypony depart in a huff!
It's not like she's even enjoying the chase. The annoying little marshmallow has developed a wonderful little eye tic as she continues to dog my hoofsteps, an increasingly fake smile plastered on her face. She's cracking. But if I don't keep up the offensive (the offensive of offensiveness. Hee hee), she'll get comfortable and then I'll be really stuck.
('Rarity,' that's her name.)
Gotta make my act even more over the top, but I'm running out of ideas.
Shoot, the knocking at the door is growing more insistent. Much as I'd love to keep hiding here, occupying the only stallion's restroom on this side of the castle is a little too pathetic, even for me.
----------------------
Okay, that went…disastrously. Terrifically disastrously.
Disasterriffic?
Actually, it's kind of nice right now. I'm in the Gala Hall, sipping champagne with absolutely no pony in sight. There's fallen masonry, shattered glassware, upturned tables, and a few squirrels devouring what's left of the appetizers. Amidst the devastation, it's oddly peaceful.
I like calling her "Marshmallow" better, but it comes off as ironic when one considers my own pure white coat. So I'll stick with "Rarity." Poor Rarity, she really needs to learn to quit while she's ahead. With most of my Badblood routines exhausted, I wandered outside hoping for inspiration, or at least a plausible escape plan. She followed, eyes shining with pure greed as she looked at me. But she did glance to the side, where a rather rustic-looking pony had set up a food stand. Most of the other partygoers were looking at the mare with either contempt or amusement. For once, I felt the same as the other nobles: trying to sell food to ponies at a dinner-included party wasn't exactly great business sense. From the bored look on her face, the orange filly had started to realize this.
But importantly for me, the gleam in Rarity's eyes was replaced by a brief one of recognition. She nodded at the other mare before turning her attention back to me.
"A friend?" I asked.
She nodded in response, thrilled that I said something normal to her.
"Applejack," she said.
"Let's go say 'hi.'" It was worth a shot.
Okay, I'm not proud of what I did then. Questionable business sense aside, I didn't have anything against Applejack. I think I get along better with her type than with, well, mine. But Rarity was OBSESSIVE. I knew by now she was going to explode when the chase ended, and the sooner it was over the better it'd be for both of us. So if "sooner" involved insulting a close friend, then sorry Applejack, but it's for the best.
First I insisted Rarity pay for the food (ZING!). Then I mocked it right to the vendor's face and refused to even look at it twice. Both of them looked rightly peeved at me, so I sauntered back inside…
…And there was Rarity, right beside me. What would it take to get rid of her?!!
As it turned out, what it took was an honest slip. Don't ask, but somehow a cake went flying and nailed Rarity in the face. Alright, to be honest, I ducked behind her. I don't like getting dirty. I hate getting dirty. I admit, it's a bit of a phobia of mine. A few splatters of icing onto my hooves and collar was enough to send nervous chills up my spine.
I think I said something to that effect, as she gave me a look of pure hate and roared "AFRAID TO GET DIRTY?!"
And then she came after me in a much less romantic and much more violent way.
Things get fuzzy after that. I got enough cake on me to really start me panicking. While I was in a tizzy…statues started falling, more food started flying, and a horde of animals rushed inside.
I have absolutely no idea how it all happened. And you know what? I don't want to know.
Someone screamed, "YOU ARE GOING TO LOOOOOVE MEEEEE!" Sheer terror gripped me, as I thought it was Rarity speaking and she was even more obsessive than I had guessed. I galloped about in a panic along with the other guests. After a few moments, I regained the presence of mind to crouch under a table and wait for the noise to stop.
The noise stopped, I crawled out, and I poured myself some champagne without waiting in line. I sipped and began to write, and that's me right now. Horrid as the evening was, as I gaze about the ripped tapestries and spilled food I can't help but smile. So many strange things happened that it's all a bit funny. All those snooty-hooves will have something to gossip about for years to come. Wherever she is, Aunt Celly must be thrilled that a Gala finally turned into something worth remembering.
And I won't have to see my latest nemesis, Rarity, ever again.
A memorable night indeed. They say that the Grand Galloping Gala is the best night ever, and as this smile refuses to leave my lips…
Was it, in fact, the Best Night Ever?
Oh who am I kidding? As Star Gazer would say, "Buck, no!"
HA! Until next time, Diary. Adieu!
Prince Blueblood
Chapter 2: The Greatest Threat Since Ever
"YOU ARE GOING TO LOOOOOOOVE MEEEE!"
Blueblood backed nervously away from the source of the voice: a unicorn mare with a white coat, glaring at him with hatred. He mumbled something unintelligible, trying to ask what she wanted of him.
His backward motion stopped abruptly as his flank bumped into something soft and sticky. Blueblood glanced behind him, praying frantically it was anything but-
CAKE! A wall of moist, crumbling cake! The icing smeared as he recoiled away, its white color darkening to that of mud. He ran forward. Dirt he couldn't handle. Mares he could. All he needed to do was pull his Badblood act.
Blueblood gagged as her look of rage turned to one of lust, but stuck to the script as best as he could manage. "Hello! I'm a terrible pony who only cares about money and status!"
"Me too!" She exclaimed gleefully, and Blueblood shivered. "We're a perfect match!"
He tried to maneuver around her, but Rarity matched his movement, crouched low like a hunting cat. She licked her lips slowly, eyes half closed. Blueblood glanced around for an escape route, and when his eyes turned back to her, she was covered in frosting. Brown chocolate crumbs gathered around her muzzle like Helperton's beard.
"Oh, Blueblood, you're soooooo bad," she said huskily, drawing a cringe. "What's the matter? Afraid to get…dirty?"
When she said it the first time, she was enraged. Now she was saying "dirty" with an entirely different meaning. Try as he might, Blueblood couldn't get around her, and she drew inexorably closer. Close enough to touch his face. She reached up with a hoof covered in mud and worms, and-
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"YAAAI!"
He woke up with a yelp. Of course he had been dreaming, Blueblood knew he was dreaming ever since the cake wall. But that didn't make it any less creepy. Or…weird.
Shuddering, he rolled over, content to let the memories fade as dreams are wont to do. A nightmare, certainly, but nothing more. Thoughts of Helperton's beard made him smile and turn his thoughts to the E.E. The charity foundation was really his only passion: He wished he could take a more active hoof in its management, but it was hard enough sneaking off once or twice a week. Any more would draw unwanted attention, undesired fame, and most importantly, a host of stalkers who'd know the most desired stallion in Equestria was a nice pony after all.
Bad thoughts from the dream had been replaced by bad imaginings of reality – it was definitely time to get up. Blueblood's horn glowed blue, the magic delicately removing his nightmask.
Ah yes, the bedroom. Final refuge for anypony lucky enough to have a home, perfectly mundane, perfectly solitary, perfectly my own.
Blueblood blinked and snapped his head back and forth. Was this his bedroom? The resemblance was there, but the carpet had been replaced by a tacky purple and pink square tile pattern. The mirror reflected not his room, but a cowpony pair, dancing wildly. A broom had somehow animated and wrapped itself around a maid, dusting a shelf with her tail. The entire outside wall had disappeared, revealing a sky with pink clouds in the air. Some unlucky griffon was careening by, his wings where his claws should be and visa-versa. He narrowly missed a pegasus flying backwards, both with looks of panic on their faces. In the gardens below, purple trees with socks on their branches had sprouted.
"Oh…bollocks."
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Dear Diary,
Today I write to you with more purpose than I ever have. I might not live to see another day dawn. Call it pride or vanity, but I'd like to record my thoughts and deeds. If all is lost, then at least I'll leave some proof I existed, even if I exist no more. Words will remain of my deeds, even if none remain to read them.
That's melodramatic as hay, but I AM PROBABLY GOING TO DIE, SO I'M FEELING A LITTLE MELODRAMATIC.
I'm urban nobility. I don't exercise and I'm sure not a fighter, so I'm hardly qualified to fight the greatest threat to Equestria since EVER.
Discord is back.
Sweet Celestia, it's like one of those monster-horror books Star Gazer reads. The old wards failed, the ancient spells broke, R'ylhay rises from the deep, madness consumes the world, etcetera, etcetera, WE'RE BUCKED.
I'm going to start at the start and cover things as well as I can with the time I have. Discord actually broke out yesterday, but nothing changed at first. Celestia told me about it and said that the matter was in hoof. She'd call in her pupil, who would use the Elements of Harmony to turn him back into a statue. Aunt Celly told me what to do if things got out of control, but I wasn't too worried. It's funny, but when someone else is around to heroically save the day, ponies like me get sort of lazy about it. I didn't really know anything about Twilight Sparkle or the Elements, but I know she freed Luna from Nightmare Moon. I figured she'd be the hero again and everything would be back to normal. I went to bed like nothing was wrong at all.
When I woke up, it was clear things weren't going to be so tidy. Discord was cavorting about the skies, willing chaos into the world. Luna was nowhere to be seen, the castle was a disaster area, and a legion of animate sock-trees had subdued the Royal Guard.
I did what any rational pony would do in such a situation: I quickly brushed my mane and ran to Aunt Celly.
Only she had been turned to stone.
SHE HAD BEEN TURNED TO STONE.
That Discord would have a sense of irony came as no big surprise, but that he defeated Princess Celestia so easily was horrifying. There was no great clash of magic or climactic duel. She didn't even look angry or frightened, just surprised. The work of an instant, and that was that.
I cried. I cried a lot, and I'm not ashamed. I wasn't even thinking about the Age of Chaos that awaited Equestria. I was just thinking about my aunt. Not the regal Princess Celestia who ruled with wisdom and grace, but the mischievous Celly who ruffled my mane just when I got it perfect. The one who let me try on her jewelry when I was a little colt. The one who encouraged me and accepted my flaws without passing judgment.
I don't love many ponies. I don't even LIKE many ponies. But I loved Aunt Celly, and without her…well, I'm ready for whatever Discord throws at me.
After I had gotten the grief out of my system, I did what she asked me to do "in case things got out of control." I think this qualifies. I found the closet she told me about, filled with messaging scrolls with red ribbons. Maybe they were warning letters to other realms or something. They all had preset destinations they were bound to, so all I had to do was teleport them and let the magic take their essence to wherever. I didn't even check to see where they were going. It seemed kind of silly to be spending the apocalypse sending mail, but Celly asked me to. I could at least do that for her.
I shot them off as quickly as possible then went into Canterlot. There wasn't anything for it, I was going after Discord. I tried to correct a few wrongs as I moved through the warped city, but things were so bad I don't think anypony noticed.
Scratch that, Fancy Pants noticed. I can see him reclining now, writing a goodbye letter to his fillyfriend.
We kind of bumped into each other – he was trying to use his magic to fix things as well. When I told him I was going after Discord, he laughed and clopped my back. "Then I'll go with you! Together, we'll have twice as good a chance!"
I actually smiled. Fancy Pants is on the very short list of "Ponies I Like," and I'm kind of sorry to be leading him into this inevitable disaster. Maybe neither of us care to see the Equestria we love become twisted beyond all recognition.
We found a few signs that we were going in the right direction. Literally, giant arrow signs that had "THIS WAY TO DISCORD" printed on them in red letters. Maybe they're a joke or lie, but we've been following them. It's not like we have a better idea where to find him.
When we do reach Discord…well, I guess there's not much to be said. We'll ready our horns, give it our all, and whatever happens, happens.
Goodbye.
~Prince Blueblood
------------------
Fancy Pants gave a sniff as the pair trod through the blue grass, forsaking the icy roads. "You know, I feel like we're missing something."
"A plan?" Blueblood sighed. "An idea? A hope?"
"Prince of Good Cheer, you are." Fancy Pants gave a small, humored smile. "No, no, I think we should talk or something. Like in a storybook, where ponies have the big heart-to-heart chat before the climax. How about it, hm? Let's tell each other something we've never told anypony."
The blue-maned pony blinked as Blueblood looked at him. "Come now, Prince, it seems like the proper thing to do in this sort of situation."
His blonde companion shrugged, and cast his gaze back down. "Fine. You first."
"Hm, yes, that would be polite." Fancy Pants considered a moment before responding. "I do love Fleur De Lis with all my heart, and she loves me back. But I've always sort of wanted to try a stallion sometime, just to see what it was like."
That got Blueblood's attention. His head snapped up, and he widened the distance between them by a few steps. "Woah. Uh, I uh…"
Fancy Pants chuckled at the reaction. "Calm yourself, Sir, you wouldn't be my first choice. Or, erhem, twelfth."
They trod in silence for a few seconds before the implication caught up with Blueblood. "And what the hay is that supposed to mean!"
"Oh dear," Fancy Pants sighed, annoyed that he let his politeness fade to subtle insults. "My apologies, nothing, the stress has caught up to me."
Blueblood wasn't about to let it go at that. "What? I'm handsome, aren't I?"
"Yes," Fancy Pants groaned, wishing he could undo the whole conversation.
"Then what?" Blueblood was making himself angrier. He wasn't possessed of any romantic intentions towards Fancy Pants, but he still felt insulted.
"Social skills, my dear prince." Fancy Pants coughed. "Er, may I speak frankly?"
Irately, Blueblood tossed back his mane. "We're dead anyway."
"Charming," Fancy Pants said, deadpan. "You open up a touch around me, and I appreciate it. But outside of myself and the Princess, you seem to…almost fear other ponies. That's not a bad thing taken in isolation, but please consider that Equestria predominantly consists of other ponies. That's not a positive quality of yours."
Blueblood made a dismissive noise, but didn't deny it. After a few moments, he grunted. "Too late to fix it now. There's Discord, just past the rock…candy farm. Let's get this over with."
Fancy Pants nodded. "Hm. Forward the Whites and Tally Ho, I suppose."
Through some mix of courage and resignation, neither of the two foppish colts even hesitated as they strode to the strange throne and its god-like occupant.
--------------
Dear Diary,
I'm alive, mostly due to the fact that Discord is mean.
Heh, excuse me, he "was" mean.
Fancy Pants and I found Discord, and we gave a short speech that sounded a lot more stirringly heroic when we rehearsed it on the way. We made it clear that we were the big, gallant heroes who would strike him down. By our hooves Equestria would be made free of his villainous depravations.
It was all a load of bollocks, of course. We had a death wish, and just wanted to go out with some degree of righteousness. Sure we would've fought as hard as we could, but the only real question was how Discord would end us.
Which he didn't. As we spoke of our heroism, he settled back with a sort of bored smile on his face. When Fancy Pants and I kicked the ground and lowered our horns, he yawned, looked at his watch, and vanished.
No trick, no sudden attack, no nothing. He knew the cruelest thing to do was simply leave, refusing to acknowledge us as even worth dealing with.
To say that it knocked the wind from our sails was an understatement. Fancy Pants and I started walking again, but we didn't really have a direction or goal in mind. If we pursued Discord, he would simply leave again unless he thought of something even more humiliating. We could try to stop the Chaos around us, but that would be just as futile. The two of us just wandered, waiting for something to happen.
We didn't have to wait very long. I guess there were a few hiccups, but the original plan carried through. Twilight Sparkle used the Elements of Harmony to turn Discord into stone and everything went back to normal. And I had absolutely nothing to do with it.
'Yay,' I guess.
It's strange, but I'm feeling pretty glum about the whole affair. I guess I'm happy to be alive, but I can't help but feel more than a little useless. I gave it my all and didn't change a thing.
Maybe it's for the best. I think I'd be terrified if anypony actually needed me to be a hero. Whatever quality Twilight has that lets her wield the Elements, I definitely don't have it.
Anyway, I'm skipping the ceremony they're holding for her. I'm duly grateful and all, but my mood won't exactly do much for the atmosphere. Best to let them party. Celestia might be annoyed with me, but she can hassle me later if she wants.
(She got unstoned, by the way)
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
--------------------
Quick addendum: Hearing the gossip following the ceremony, it honored several ponies. I guess they helped Twilight along the way, or something.
Whatever. Just thought I'd mention it.
~Blueblood
---------------------
Dear Diary,
It's been a few days, and I still have this feeling of…glum malaise, I guess. You ever feel bored, but can't work up the motivation to do anything? Sorta like that, plus some existential angst. If I disappear tomorrow, my aunts might miss me a little and the E.E. would miss my money. Not much impact at all. If I look at it logically, I don't really matter that much.
Guh, I hate this "Waah, poor me," feeling, and it's not going away on its own. I hate to bug her, but I kinda wanna talk about it with Aunt Celestia. I'll try to catch her at a good time.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
---------------
Dear Diary,
So I unloaded my feelings to Celestia. I tried to stop several times – I had to have sounded like Equestria's biggest loser, and it was shameful and embarrassing. But each time, she prodded me to continue.
I must've been on a roll. Before I knew it, I was talking about the Badblood act I put on to drive away would-be fillyfriends. And I told her I wasn't going to drop the act, either. I am not going to be a prize for some gold-digger or socialite. I just want other high-breeds to leave me alone.
Celestia gave me that wonderful smile of hers and set her head on me in a soft hug.
Then she blew a raspberry on my neck.
Gave me quite a start, I don't mind admitting.
"Blueblood, you really need to get out more," she said after wiping her lips.
"I am not getting out more!" I shouted, wrong-hoofed and blushing from the surprise. "I've told you a hundred times, I don't want to spend more time around the Sweet and Elite!"
She smiled winningly, a twinkle in her eye. "Perhaps you can make friends outside the Noble Canterlot circle. Spend time with them, hm? I wouldn't tell anypony."
Now, I'm not an idiot. Aunt Celly was pretty clearly hinting that she knew I go "slumming" outside of the classy sections of Canterlot. And she was hinting that she approved, or at least tolerated it.
In the past, I've always limited my forays to the weekly meetings at the Grapevine. The more often I sneak out, the more likely ponies will notice and get curious. I certainly don't want anypony poking their nose into my business.
But I really would like to get out with the Egalitarian Equestrians more. Next Friday I'll ask them for ideas. You know, see if there's something I can do to help that won't attract attention.
I think that's the ticket: Feel unneeded? Make yourself needed.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
-------------------
Dear Diary,
Okay, I think we've got something.
The high society excuse will be that I'm taking the tour of the "country." "Country" is a sufficiently vague and large area that I should be able to brush off questions as to specifically "where" I am going.
My desire to "get out and help more" coincided very neatly with a plan Star Gazer already had brewing. See, most of our funding comes from me, which means it comes from aristocratic sources. Aside from nobles, the big holders of cash in Equestria are business ponies. He wants to start getting pledges from merchants, and thinks it's best to start talking to them outside of Canterlot so we can widen our funding base. So we'll be going to…
…Ponyville. A FARMING community. Farming = Dirt.
Oh well. At least I won't be lying when I say I'll be in the country. That's as country as it gets.
Star Gazer is convinced it's the best place to start. There are a lot more bits flying around in urban areas like Canterlot, but the merchants are constantly at each other's throats. Country businesses have less competition, so won't grip their money quite as tightly. If we can get good support in Ponyville, it'll give us the prestige to make headway into wealthier circles.
While Helperton manages things at home, Star Gazer and I will make the trip to see what kind of commitment we can drum up. I'll be incognito, of course – Aunt Celly already agreed to help with a disguise.
We had a bit of a debate as to what name I would go by. "Blue-anything" would be easiest to remember, but also the most likely to give me away. Nopony is going to be fooled by something obvious like "Royal Blue."
(Okay, "Royal Blue" was my first idea. Give me a break, I've never done this before.)
"Whipped Crème," Star Gazer suggested with a smirk, eyeing my alabaster coat. It was out of the question, for obvious reasons.
"Sun Mane," Helperton stated. While my mane is yellow, I really couldn't shake the feeling that it sounded like a filly's name.
We eventually settled on "True Point," using my cutey mark as a reference.
(I have a compass-like cutey mark, by the way. I'll tell you about it sometime.)
I'm looking forward to it. It's exciting, different, and is hopefully just what I need to shake myself up a little. Time to relax in the country, do some good, and enjoy a little peace and quiet.
Yours,
~Blueblood
Chapter 3: Mudblood
Dear Diary,
Stargazer and I are one day away from Ponyville. Nothing especially noteworthy has happened, but this travel motel has astonishingly uncomfortable beds. I'm not sleeping, so I might as well write.
We're not going to raise many funds in Ponyville for the charity. It's certainly not going to be much compared to what I contribute myself. But it'll give the Egalitarian Equestrians their first business contacts. By building off those, we'll really be able to rack in bits and start a lot of the projects we've been putting off. We're a growing organization, and I'm excited to be a part of it.
I think that's what I like the most about this: I'm a major part of it. Before I was just a patron, writing checks from afar. I still cross streets to avoid beggars, and I still can't look them in the eye. It shames me, and the best way to be a better stallion is to leave the white castle behind. Celly put together a foolproof disguise, so for a while, I'll just be True Point: A common-born do-gooder looking to help his fellow ponies who have fallen on hard times.
I'll be abusing you for a while, Diary. I want to take notes on the meetings, but naturally I forgot to bring spare paper. Sorry, but you'll only double as a notebook for a few days.
…I just apologized to a book. Definitely time to try to sleep.
Yours,
Blueblood/True Point
-------
Star Gazer glanced over to his companion as they trod the dusty road to Ponyville. "Little warning for ya, 'True Point:' That disguise isn't gonna fool anypony."
There was no getting around it: Prince Blueblood had a plastic moustache stuck to his upper lip. It wasn't even blonde like his mane, but covered in cheap black paint. That was the extent of his disguise.
Blueblood snorted at the green pegasus and arched his head regally. "I'll have you know this disguise was bequeathed to me by my aunt, Princess Celestia herself. It's foolproof."
His companion groaned. Cynical as Blueblood usually was, he was starry-eyed when it came to his aunt. Star Gazer changed topics, guessing it would be useless to argue further. "Prince, normally I don't mind the idea of you embarrassing yourself in public. But try not to screw things up for us here. Let me do the talking when we hit town. Just take notes, okay?"
Blueblood glared at him, genuine hurt in his eyes. "I'm not your secretary. I came to help."
"Look, just watch and learn at first, okay?" Star Gazer looked away, not up for a fight. "Just at first. I'd have to learn from you before I could snib with the snobs, right? You gotta learn from me how to deal with blokes who work for a living. I wouldn't'a asked you to come along if I thought you'd be dead weight."
Blueblood nodded and smiled, but Star Gazer had been around the bend with relationships before. The unicorn wasn't giving a happy smile, but rather the wry smile of someone who guesses he's being appeased with empty words.
Star Gazer shrugged and turned to logic. "Hey Blues…you know why I didn't just fly to Ponyville?"
Blueblood looked at him, and the Pegasus cocked a friendly grin. "Because it'll be more fun with you around."
The words shrunk Blueblood's smile to a smaller, more genuine one. The next few minutes passed in genial silence until Star Gazer spoke up again.
"Hey…you ever hear the one about the banana bucker from Hayti?"
"Yes, and I'd like to mention that you're the only one who finds those 'buck' puns amusing."
The green pegasus laughed. "Not the only one, Blues. How about the pegaus who had the bucking cutie mark…"
------
Dear Diary,
I mean, Meeting #1:
Encountered a pair of wandering businessponies passing perpendicular to our road of travel. We figured we might as well have a chat.
-They seem to be magical engineers, modifying their vehicle to suit whatever task seems likely to turn a profit. By wandering from community to community, they get a feel for what's needed and market accordingly. Seems lucrative, but I'm hardly a good judge of such things.
-It's a pair of unicorn brothers named Flim and Flam. They're friendly and forward.
-They're telling us about their business now. It seems interesting.
-…10 minutes ago it was interesting. Now I'm annoyed. Do they ever pause for breath?
-Star Gazer is getting about one word in for every 100 spewed back. I don't think the pair even listened to what he said, they just keeping going on about themselves.
-Okay, now they're singing.
-5 minutes later, they're still singing. Star Gazer's eye is twitching.
-8 minutes of singing their own wonders. I was annoyed at first, but now I'm kind of impressed. I think they missed their calling – I'd pay to see these guys entertain over the Great and Powerful Whatever any day of the week.
-Star Gazer is screaming.
------
"Just let you do the talking, huh?"
Star Gazer grimaced at the jibe, flying irately in circles. "Don't give me that, Blueblood, those two are INSANE! They were driving ME insane! GAAAH! How can they stand themselves!"
Blueblood didn't even look up as he plod on to Ponyville, letting the pegasus orbit him like the moon. "Whatever, Mr. 'Better at Dealing with Ponies.'"
"Buck off, we made 50 bits, didn't we?"
"They paid me 50 bits to drag you away," Blueblood's horn glowed, shielding his mane from the wind Star Gazer was kicking up. "If you don't mind, I'll do the talking next time. If you're going to scream every time something annoys you, we might as well go home."
"Oh, Sweet Cele…FINE!" Star Gazer snorted and returned to earth. "There's Ponyville, here's the list of businesses. Pick one out."
A few minutes later, the pegasus snapped out again. "And stop humming their song!"
"But it's so catchy! 'There is an oppor-tunity, in this some-thing community…"
------
Meeting #2
-Sugarcube Corner. I feel myself getting fat just walking in here. But it is one of the bigger businesses of Ponyville. It has multiple employees besides the owners, and gets plenty of work from outside the town. For both catering and specialty sweets, many consider this the place to go. Even nobles order from here when they crave something a touch homely and rustic.
-The owners, Mr. Cake and Mrs. Cake, seem like genuinely pleasant ponies. One of the employees, Bon Bon, was kept hopping manning the register while we talked with her employers. The other took one look at me and began snickering. It was quite embarrassing, but the Cakes seemed just as embarrassed. They shooed the pink bugger off to handle the kitchen while the adults talked.
-They hadn't heard of the E.E. before and seem interested. So far, so good.
-They're willing to pledge regular contributions and talk to their business partners about doing the same. This trip is officially worth it.
-They love the idea of the 'Reaching Hooves' project and want to be counselors for the Ponyville area. This really can't be going any better.
-Meeting's wrapping up. They insisted on us sampling their new "daisy and vanilla" cake recipe. A firm ally and free cake? Star Gazer can suck a lemon, I'm the best talker.
------
"Here you are, darlings, now be sure to say what youWHOOPS!"
Mrs. Cake skidded on a wooden roller. The cake balanced precariously on her nose went flying. Blueblood tried to dive behind Star Gazer, but the action only brought his face directly into the cake's flight path.
"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, dear. Let me get you-"
A piercing scream interrupted her. Trembles coursed through Blueblood's body for a moment, and he screamed again, then bolted out the door. "FROSTING! ON MY MANE! MY BEAUTIFUL MANE! AGAIN!"
Star Gazer muttered something uncharitable before launching into pursuit. He slowed a moment to call back to the frazzled Cakes.
"Shoot, uh, don't worry about him! He's got kind of a phobia. We'll write! Thanks for everything!"
--------
"C'mon, Blueblood, you've been in the restroom so long I need to use it now, too! How hard can it be to wash out a little cake?"
It took twenty minutes, but Blueblood strode out of the little colt's room, composure intact and hair exactly the way it was before he took the hit. "It was not a 'little' cake, it was-"
Star Gazer brushed past him into the restroom.
An awkward silence descended as they went on to the next place of business. The pegasus flexed his shoulders and smoothed back his mane. "I sure hope the Cakes don't take it personally. You've done enough damage – let me handle this next one. I'll show you how it's done. See, you gotta be casual with country ponies. They don't think highly of stiff formality or freaking out over a few stains. Watch, I'll show you."
He waved as the pony answered the doorbell. "Heya, Filthy."
------
Meeting #3
-Filthy Rich, the largest real estate retailer in Ponyville, prefers to be called by his last name.
-We're off to a bad start. He has a grumbling, tired personality which is not a good match for Star Gazer's enthusiasm. They're getting on each other's nerves.
-Star Gazer's getting frustrated.
-Okay, time for me to step in. This guy's upper crust and well out of Star Gazer's league.
-Did you know that "North Point" is a noble? Neither did I until now. That's the beauty of a fake identity – you can make it up as you go along.
-Oho, Mr. Rich is flattered to be visited by nobility? If only he knew…
-We're not selling him anything now, but I buttered him up to be a good resource later. Remember, making friends and contacts is more important than actual bits in hoof.
-He invited me in for tea in his parlor. I had Star Gazer take my coat. ZING!
-Mr. Rich introduced me to his daughter and her friend. The little twerps invited themselves into the conversation, and a dumber couple of brats I could scarcely imagine.
-Okay…just the pink one's a dumb brat. When Mr. Rich escorted his daughter from the room, the grey one squinted at me through her glasses. After a long second, she asked why I was wearing a fake moustache. It was creepy. I mean, how did she know? Aunt Celly made this for me herself, and no one else has looked twice at it. It's foolproof. Is this kid some kind of genius?
-I stammered for a moment, enough for the surprisingly-sharp filly to realize it wasn't a question I could answer. She pulled out a little purse and dumped the contents in my pocket. "My donation – don't tell anyone," she whispered, and scampered off after her friend.
-Three silver bits – almost 100 bits. It kills me that I can't remember the little filly's name.
------
"Don't look so smug," Star Gazer snapped. In his defense, Blueblood was looking remarkably smug at that moment, nose raised and lips up in a mocking smile. "That stallion was just a bourgeoisie hoity-toity type looking to schmooze with a noble."
"It's those 'hoity-toity types' that have the bits, Stargazer. Good intentions won't pay bills. Powerful friends will."
The pegasus huffed. "Yeah, well, don't let it get to your head. Being a stuck-up will make you a lot more enemies than friends around here."
"Sure, sure." Blueblood waved a hoof dismissively. "I'm taking the lead this time, though."
------
Meeting #4
-The local branch of the Apple Family. I've done my homework – they're pretty much the reason there is a Ponyville. They're a big name and they do business all over Equestria, but it's a small-budget operation. They rely on specialties like zap apples and cider to keep them afloat - apples themselves just don't make much money.
-A family-only operation. Sweet Celly, how do two or three ponies harvest so many apples?
-Oh dang, I recognize one of them.
-The Grand Galloping Disaster? She was there. I spat on her apple fritters.
-Look at those legs. She could probably buck me to the moon.
-Oh fudge, she caught me looking at her legs.
-She's looking really hard at me. My disguise is foolproof.
-IT'S TOTALLY FOOLPROOF.
-"Is somethin' the matter?" She asked in an incredibly menacing accent. She's onto me. Time to run.
------
Blueblood poked his nose out from behind the bush as Star Gazer left the Apples' property. "Are you being followed?"
"No," Star Gazer said with an eye roll. "Wow…you kind of just screamed and ran for no reason. I'm sure there's a funny story behind it, but I'm honestly not sure I want to know. Normally I'd ask if it was an old fillyfriend, but, you know. It's you."
The unicorn ignored the jibe and righted himself, earlier confidence gone. "Is it usually this bad? We seem to be making a mess of things with everyone."
Star Gazer shrugged. "Eh, usually it's worse. We haven't struck out completely anywhere. In the city, people just tend to jabber excuses and show us the door. It kind of annoys me. If the answer's 'no,' they should just say 'no.' Not 'we'll pay later,' or 'give me a brochure to read.'"
"Helperton has troubles with it too?"
"Oh, heck yeah." The green pegasus laughed at a few choice memories. "Trust me, we're doing okay, even if we're managing to come off as 100% derpy."
"Yes?" a third voice called from above.
The pair gave a start, turning to the pony dropping down from the sky next to them. A gray pegasus with wall eyes and a goofy smile on her face. She looked at them expectantly, waiting for the flabbergastered pair to say something.
The two stallions glanced at each other and exchanged a confused shrug. Blueblood rallied first, giving a gentle cough. "Er, may we help you, Madam?"
"I don't know," she said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. "You, called, me."
Blueblood glanced to his companion, and again the two shrugged. "I'm sorry, Madam, you are mistaken."
"Oh. Oh well." She giggled, not seeming to think anything of it. "Won't be the first time today. 'Kay, buh-bye."
The mare took off vertically as suddenly as she arrived, taking an erratic flight up and away. Blueblood and Star Gazer stared up after her.
"Star Gazer, I don't suppose you-"
"I have no idea what just happened. How about you?"
"Haven't the foggiest."
The green pegasus glanced up at the sun, then back to the list. "Okay, weird as that was, back to business. These meetings are taking forever. If we want to hit all the spots in two days, we'll need to split up. Here, pick a few off the list and we'll meet back at the inn come sundown."
------
"One more to go," Blueblood yawned. He was out of shape and he knew it – a day spent hiking around the country town had tuckered him out. It was drizzling, too.
But at least he had saved the easiest for last. Blueblood floated his notes in front of him, reading as he walked. This business already has assisted in several charity events, both local and in Canterlot. Once provided some very expensive prizes for a charity lottery, ensuring excellent turnout. The owner is the two-time winner of Celestia's Ray, an award for philanthropy. Supposedly she also worked with the mayor to design a plan to improve quality of life and all but eliminate joblessness in Ponyville.
Given how much she's already involved in, whoever owns Carousel Boutique might not be offering cash on the hoof. But if we can get her name on our brand, it'll do wonders for the E.E.'s prestige.
The clothing store was open for business, so Blueblood let himself in. Mannequins lined the wall in various fabrics, showcasing colors and styles. A set of stairs led up to what was likely a private residence. With nopony in sight, Blueblood rang the service bell and settled back on a stool, content to wait. Hoping to impress her, he had brought some files from the E.E. with him showcasing how far they had advanced in just a few years. And of course, his trusty diary was out and ready.
"Co~ming!" A singsong voice sounded from above, and an alabaster unicorn descended. She tossed her purple mane back and flashed a gorgeous smile.
The smile froze on her face, slowly morphing to a shocked grimace as she saw Blueblood. For his part, Blueblood's contentment vanished. The sight of her sent ice water pumping through his veins.
"You?!" She shouted, something between a question and an accusation.
"You!" He shouted back, voice as cringing as his posture.
Rarity stomped down the remainder of the stairs, noise pointed to the heavens. She moved her legs with exaggerated aggressiveness as she advanced. "What on EARTH gives you the right to enter my home, you villain? You horrible, horrible stallion, you stomped on my feelings, hurt my friends, and made the Gala the most hideous night ever!"
The insults stoked Blueblood's own anger, and he stood up fully, head low and eyes narrow. "No, YOU made the Gala hideous for YOURself! You gold-digging, empty-headed floozy mares couldn't take a hint if it was hoof-delivered to you! You chased after me, I didn't want you to, so how is it MY fault YOUR night was ruined?"
They were nose-to-nose now, and Rarity wasn't backing down. "If you were so against my presence, why didn't you just politely excuse yourself? Or here's an idea: JUST ASK ME TO LEAVE. You would've saved us both a world of trouble!"
"Oh, I tried THAT before!" Blueblood stood upright, throwing his hooves out wide. "Starry-eyed nincompoops with diamonds on their butts are such great listeners!"
"HA! If you really feel that way, why are you sneaking into my shop with that idiotic disguise?"
"It's not idiotic, it's foolpr…never mind. I obviously have the wrong address."
"So leave!" Rarity's horn glowed and the door opened.
"I'm already gone!" Blueblood stormed out, igniting his own horn to slam it shut behind him.
Rarity growled at the closed door, releasing the rest of her anger. She huffed and turned around, just in time to see several papers slide from the counter. The forceful opening and closing of the door had blown them about, and a few were still floating in the air. She seized one with her magic and read the top few lines.
"Last year the Egalitarian Equestrians operated three free kitchens. Today we run a dozen of them, along with two orphanages and a family shelter. We plan to expand by opening facilities outside of the Canterlot area and by…"
She blinked and floated up another sheet of paper, then a third, finding the contents of each to be along a similar vein. Realization replaced curiosity, and her head snapped back to the closed door.
"HIM?!!"
Rarity cast her eyes over the counter, taking in the remaining papers while she puzzled on the matter. The horrible prince certainly acted much differently than he had at the Gala, but what in Equestria was going on?
A last foreign object drew her attention: a small brown book, sitting innocuously next to her register. She levitated it over and gave an appraising look over the outside. The outside was cheap leather and unadorned, certainly not the kind of thing the prince would carry around with him. Maybe a Fluttershy's? She had come over earlier today, maybe she forgot it here.
A bit nosy by nature, Rarity finally decided to open it. After all, she needed to learn who it was if she was going to return it. The fine cursive writing on the front page immediately marked this as property of a unicorn – such penmanship was impossible without a magical grip.
"Dear Diary,
…'Dear Diary?' How cliché can I get? I've never been big on the idea of diaries…"
------
"HER?!!"
"Oh, yeah," Star Gazer lounged in his bed, ignoring his friend's surprise. They were in their room at the inn, comparing notes on a day well-spent.
"I was at one of the ceremonies for Celestia's Ray and saw her myself," the pegasus went on. "Rarity's a nice lookin' mare, but not really my type, you know? Carried herself all high-up and snooty. The sorta filly who'd you see at the Grand Galloping Gala rather than…"
He trailed off, recognition dawning on his face. He turned fully to Blueblood. "Wait a second…the same Rarity you talked about after the Gala? The mare that went nutso on you?"
The prince nodded unhappily. Star Gazer closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to reconcile the stately mare he saw at the ceremony and Blueblood's description of the obsessive gold-digger.
"Wow. WOW! Awkward!" Star Gazer gave a short laugh. "Well, don't worry about it. I can approach her later. That's a little something to put in your book."
Blueblood stood bolt upright. "My diary! Oh buck, I must've left it there!"
"Heheh, you said 'buck.'"
"Oh, shut up!" Blueblood shouted, already out the door.
------
Just his luck, the drizzle from the afternoon had turned into a heavy rain. There was wind too, strong enough to make the drops fall at a sharp angle. Blueblood kept up a steady stream of grumbles as he plod towards Carousel Boutique, determinedly avoiding the mud puddles. He wasn't going to get into another fight. He was just going to ask the terrible mare for his book, get it back, and leave. She'd comply just to get rid of him quickly. They'd both be happy.
He staggered as a shift in the wind caused a moment of vertigo, like it was lifting him up. The rain had turned to a storm in a hurry, and it wasn't getting any better. Blueblood groaned in frustration, cursing himself for forgetting the stupid book. He felt like the wind was about to rip his ears off, and Celestia only knew what it was doing to his mane.
A low, slow voice shouted from above him, barely audible over the gale. "What're ya doin' outside?"
Blueblood glanced up to see the wall-eyed pegasus flying above him, clumsy wings fighting to keep her steady. One eye was turned down upon him, the other to the black clouds above. He frowned and continued marching resolutely forwards, in no mood for conversation.
Imagining that Blueblood returned her question, the grey pegasus "stood" proudly in the air and gestured to the clouds. "I'm bucking the lightning so they don't hit the town. It's important!"
Blueblood was easy to annoy on a good day, and this wasn't one. His teeth ground together and he picked up the pace, hoping the mare would get the hint.
The feeling of vertigo came again as the wind came on so hard it bounced off the ground and tried to lift him up. Blueblood was barely inconvenienced, but the pegasus wasn't so lucky. Her zany pose left her ill-prepared to react to the sudden change in pressure. With a cry, she tumbled upwards, then forwards, then down. The clumsy flier tried to right herself, but was barely able to flap her wings once before hitting the ground hard.
The prince ran towards her with a grunt, selfish thoughts circling his head. Oh, of course this would happen. Now I have to help the idiot. I'm going to have to carry her, aren't I? I'm going to get mud all over my clothes. Mudblood, that'll be me.
Shame and worry ejected the thoughts from his head as he approached. The pegasus was sprawled in the mud, goofy grin on her face. He felt relief as she sat up, but then the worry returned tenfold as her eyes rolled back and she fell over.
Channeling magic with urgency he had never felt before, Blueblood hoisted her out with a squelch and settled her on his back. He trod forward as quickly as he could, making for the nearest building. Not a thought was given to the mud.
------
Rarity hadn't had the greatest of days, and the insistent pounding on her door wasn't putting her in the best of moods, either.
"Coming, coming! We're closed, and…oh, if you're coming in to 'shake off,' Rainbow Dash, you've got another thing coming."
Standing well back from the door, Rarity gently turned the latch with magic. Sure enough, the wind blasted it open the rest of the way. She blinked, not at all expecting the sight that greeted her. A very soggy, very worried looking Blueblood, with muddy water dripping from his mane and a gently-moaning Derpy on his back.
A second blink from Rarity, then she took command. She huffed irately as Blueblood loitered awkwardly at the door. "Well don't just stand there, Darling, follow me."
He trod readily up the stairs after her, neither caring for the muddy hoofprints he left behind. Rarity bid him to set the pegasus down in her bed and efficiently began toweling her off.
"She's breathing regularly and her eyes are…well, no more out of focus than normal." Rarity gave a small laugh, peering at the mare's head through her glasses. "Our Derpy's had worse tumbles. I'll take her to the hospital in the morning, but I think what she needs now is to be kept warm and dry."
"Okay," Blueblood responded softly.
The two stood there a moment, slowly recalling that they hated each other. They avoided eye contact. Rarity busied herself fussing over the fallen pegasus and studiously examining for any lasting damage. Blueblood fidgeted at the door to the room, waiting for her to ask for his help.
When she didn't, he turned around. "Well, goodbye."
"D-do be careful on the way home," Rarity responded, unable to keep the hesitation out of her voice.
Blueblood was thankful to step back out into the rain – anything to leave the awkwardness behind. The journey back to the inn was no more pleasant than the one out, but at least it was uneventful.
A ragged, muddy Blueblood was not a sight Star Gazer had ever seen. He gave a start as Blueblood stepped in, gazing up at his friend. "Sweet Celestia! And Luna too! What the hay happened to you? No never mind, let me run a bath for you, brony."
Blueblood smiled wanly as his friend stepped into the bathroom. Although quick to jibe the Prince, the pegasus also had a fair sense for when it was okay to joke and when it wasn't. When adversity struck, all Star Gazer could think about was how to help others.
Star Gazer chuckled nervously as he ran the water, trying to make small talk. "Did she give you the book without a fuss?"
The diary!
Blueblood's face contorted, and he ground a hoof into the floor. "FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUU…"
------
"Derpy, Ditzy, Ditzy, Derpy…"
Rarity was idly speculating which was her real name when the pegasus woke up, less than an hour after arriving at her shop.
She blinked a few times and looked up, seeing Rarity beam down at her. Ditzy gave her wonderfully huge smile and launched herself upwards. She wrapped her hooves around Rarity's neck and shouted with joy.
"You saved me!"
Rarity chuckled at the reaction, even though she quickly extricated herself from the tight embrace. "No, no, Darling, that was…"
Him. The words caught on Rarity's tongue. Her gaze turned to the wall behind Ditzy, a mix of emotions tumbling within her.
Ditzy moved her head back into Rarity's line of sight, still smiling but looking a little confused. Rarity gently pushed her back down. "Rest for now, Ditzy, that fall couldn't've been good for you."
------
"Oh, come on, Blues."
Blueblood hadn't said a word since his outburst last night. While his companion munched happily on breakfast, the unicorn's head was planted firmly on the table.
The waitress – a pretty pink unicorn – glanced worriedly between them. "Is he alright?"
"He'll be fine," Star Gazer said with a wink before turning his attention back to Blueblood. "I mean, come on. The sun's shining, the birds are out, and the coffee's great. Just forget about yesterday. We'll trot over to the Boutique before getting started today and pick up your book. No problem."
Even after a bath and a good night's rest, Blueblood still felt tired and dirty. He ignored Star Gazer, and paid no mind to the sound of the front door opening. It came as quite a shock, then, when he was glomped from behind, 'glomped' being the only word that could adequately describe it. The hug was forceful and full-contact, the deliverer practically riding on top of him.
"You saved me!"
He opened his eyes and saw blonde hair a few shades lighter than his own running past his face. Along with the realization came a very unfamiliar feeling as Ditzy nuzzled his neck.
To say Blueblood was 'standoffish' towards females would have been giving him too much credit. To say that he actively shunned their attention would be more accurate. But now he had a young, athletic mare wrapped around his body, pressing her wet nose into a sensitive spot. It was a very unusual feeling, one that the isolated unicorn was very unprepared for. His intellect scrambled to rally, and he came out with the most well-reasoned statement he could manage.
"Derp."
"Derp-EE." A refined voice corrected him. Rarity stepped into view on the other side of him, smiling gently. "Or Ditzy – she does both. It's only proper that she thank you for your deed last night, so we decided to pop on over."
With Ditzy still deep in his neck and Star Gazer stuttering and staring, Only Blueblood noticed Rarity's horn glow. He felt a tug at his coat pocket and something placed within. A sidelong glance showed his diary tucked within, the glow around it vanishing.
The sight of it brought Blueblood at least somewhat back to reality. "Did you read it?" He whispered.
Rarity shook her head. She opened her mouth to tell the lie, but looked away and hesitated instead. "Sorry," she finally whispered with a shy smile.
Blueblood nodded, showing neither anger nor relief. The two broke eye contact again, and by silent mutual consent, the topic was dropped. There was a bit more understanding, but awkwardness still hung heavily between the two. Rarity gave a polite nod and turned to leave.
Ditzy finally broke the hug. She gave Blueblood a loud, undignified kiss on the cheek and fluttered over to the doorway. As the other two looked after her, she turned and gave a wide grin and enthusiastic wave.
"Thanks so much!" And with that she was off.
The stallions stared at the open doorway for a moment. Star Gazer was the first to recover. "Well," he managed, still not following what had happened. "What do you think of that, Blues?"
"Derp."
Chapter 4: Sweet 'n Sour and Elite
Dear Diary,
I don't like change. You usually end up worse for it.
Since coming home from Ponyville, I've changed. And it sure hasn't altered my opinion on the subject.
I found out about it today, a day I would happily blot from my memory. It all started just fine – normally I avoid parties, but I made an exception for Fancy Pants' birthday. I gave him a set of silver cufflinks that go just dazzlingly with his hair. A few of the other nobles muttered that it was too small a gift, but I know he appreciated it. He knows I actually put thought into his presents. Too many others just wrap the most expensive thing they can find, regardless of his tastes.
I stayed in the corner and let Fancy Pants have his fun. He rarely has difficulty becoming the center of attention, and he enjoys it immensely. Even if I wanted a private word, Fleur De Lis and him were inseparable the whole evening. The two have certainly grown…'closer' since the last time I saw her.
I don't think much of Fleur. I think she's just another hanger-on who managed to attract Fancy's attention. I've engaged her in conversation for politeness' sake, but she only seems knowledgeable in two subjects: Fashion and Fancy Pants. But he's happy around her, so I guess I don't have a problem.
She is INCREDIBLY attractive, I'll give her that. Funny how I never really thought about it until now.
Speaking of attractiveness, I got an annoying hanger-on myself this evening. She combined so many qualities of the absurdly-entitled nobility that her very presence felt like a bad joke.
First off, her name is Golden Gem. I guess no one ever told her parents that gold isn't a gem, it's a metal. Or maybe they just liked the stupid alliteration.
Secondly, this is the third time she's tried to become my pretty, pretty princess. The first two I shot her down with the Badblood routine so fast it'd make your head spin. Maybe she thinks the third time's the charm? I don't know how mares' heads work.
Golden Gem tried to be discreet as she approached me. She would hop from conversation to conversation, watching me from the corner of her eye. Once she turned away, giving me a nice view of her flank.
That's when it hit me.
She has a really, REALLY nice flank.
Why didn't I notice it before?
The realization brought a noticeable flush to my face and I was knocked completely off my game. Rather than the pinnacle of arrogance, I acted like a love struck idiot.
She said 'hello.' I stammered and mumbled something. She asked my how I was enjoying the party. I stammered something else.
I was bright red and fanning myself with my hoof. Golden Gem thankfully backed off after barely a few words exchanged. Any longer and I think I would've passed out.
"I'll see you later, Bluey," she cooed.
She had her nose in the air as she departed, a look of triumph on her face. She was putting in a lot of flank motion, and as she cast a coy glance back, she saw me watching.
That was bad enough, but it seemed like everypony else saw it too.
"The little prick finally discovered fillies."
"Hope he's ready to shell out – she's got expensive tastes."
"She's got him wrapped around her hoof."
Do these idiots think I can't hear them? I could see them whispering to each other, looking at me then suddenly looking away when they caught my gaze. Those stupid little smirks on their faces.
I was red from embarrassment now, and wasted no time in making my exit.
I've never been so humiliated in my life. I was GAWKING at FLANK. I don't like Golden Gem at all, and now everypony thinks she's the apple of my eye.
Why am I having this problem now?
This is Ditzy's fault, isn't it? Back when the silly pegasus hugged me without any thought of gain or promotion.
It felt really, really good.
So now what? The Pandora's Box is open. My body has figured out that mares are there for something other than annoying me. Am I doomed to instinctively look at every female as prospective mating material from now on?
I'll ask Aunt Celly. She'll know what to do.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
------
Aunt Celly's amazingly hot and I ran screaming from the room.
------
Dear Diary,
Fancy Pants.
The poor bastard, he wants to get married.
As in MARRIED.
And he wants my help. He wants to propose to Fluer De Lis at the next Annual Canterlot Garden Party. He wants it to be super-special, because 'you only get married once' and all that other cheesy romantic stuff.
('Only get married once.' HA! I know a few older stallions who'd have a thing or two to say about that.)
Anyway, one way to make the party more special is to hold it in the palace gardens. That means getting a royal to arrange it for you, and he asked me to do it.
Well, sure. Fluer's not exactly a close friend, but Fancy sure is. If he wants the evening to be perfect, I'll darn well make it perfect. There's gonna be all the works: classy musicians, food prepared by palace chefs, and a cleaning crew that very morning to make sure the garden is sparkling.
Real friends are rare enough that they're worth the effort.
That, and this'll be a good distraction for me.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
PS: I wonder if Ditzy would like garden parties? Probably not.
------
Dear Diary,
Not too worried about Golden Gem anymore. Now that I've had time to think about it, she's not really all that hot.
Like Fleur, she's tall and very slinky. Both of these are very alicorn-like qualities, and as such are traditionally desirable.
But I find I'm not too interested in that look. I like "cute" above "gorgeous," and "athletic" above "skinny." Somepony who's my size, maybe a little shorter. Also, Gem's coat is an eyesore – so yellow it hurts to look at. Something muter would be best, like grey or something. Her mane is pink, which I find a tacky and childish color. Blonde hair is much more attractive.
You know, like Ditzy's.
And personality counts, too! A mare can't be some stuck-up, grasping little daddy's filly. She needs to be able to laugh at herself and the world around her.
You know. Like Ditzy.
Initially, the thought of sharing a bed with Golden Gem brought with it awkward desire. Now I feel vaguely nauseated by the mental image.
This can only be a good thing.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
------
Dear Diary,
In thanks for getting things set up for him at the Palace Gardens, Fancy Pants invited me to his reserved section at the Wonderbolts Derby.
I was about to accept when he ~just~so~happened~to~mention that he really wanted me to meet some mare he just made the acquaintance of.
It was incredibly obvious that he was just trying to set me up with a filly-friend. Maybe he's trying to save me from Golden Gem, or maybe he's starting to be embarrassed for my sake.
Well thanks, but no thanks. I can handle Golden Gem. No charity needed.
(She has a brown birthmark on the tip of her nose. Makes her look like a diamond dog.)
I will, however, be meeting up with him at the opening of my cousin's art gallery. Not much love between me and my cousin, but she's got a whole wing devoted to Donkeytello's works. That's certainly worth a look.
Yours,
~Prince Blueblood
------
Dear Diary,
Hm. Awkward.
The Donkeytello gallery was nice.
You know what wasn't? Meeting Fancy Pants' new high-society BFF.
It's Rarity.
I swear, I've gotta be under some kind of curse.
She's not trying to stalk and/or kill me anymore, so I guess our relationship has evolved. But it's still pretty tense bumping into a girl who went psycho on you then read your diary. Even if she's deeper than I first thought.
From the look of her, she wasn't exactly thrilled to see me either.
We both had wide, fake smiles plastered on our faces from the moment we registered each other's presence. When Fancy introduced us, we greeted each other through grating teeth, pretending this was the first time.
Fancy and my cousin prattled on, either ignoring or missing the tension in the room. Lingering a little behind them as we walked, Rarity and I managed to hiss a few words at each other. It went basically like this:
Me: "Let's ignore each other. Once we get out of the gallery, we'll never have to see each other again."
Her: "Deal."
Me: "They don't know you're from Ponyville, do they?"
Her: "I said, 'Deal.'"
Although now I'm kind of kicking myself…I should've asked her how Ditzy was doing.
Yours,
~Blueblood
------
In a few minutes I'll be headed over to Noble Heart's auction. His name is accurate – his heart's in the right place. Any time he redecorates or has his house cleaned, boxes of stuff he doesn't want anymore ends up in a charity auction.
Unfortunately, he's not all that popular (he has kind of a begging, wheedling personality), and by the time he sells something it's well out of fashion. A lot of tacky vases and jewelry have been auctioned year after year, with never a buyer.
But he does try really hard, and the money he makes does help a lot of ponies. I always go there and buy something no one else bids on. Maybe I'll get that awful red vase that's been there since Noble's first auction.
Maybe I'll give it to Di
------
Dear Diary,
So, bad news and good news.
The bad news is Rarity. Two encounters in one day was not something I was hoping for when I woke up. We were cordial of course, but she still sets me on edge.
The good news is she was mighty good for the auction. Her status as "Fancy Pants' new favorite" has the entitled idiots falling over themselves trying to get her approval. Noble Heart drew a bigger crowd than ever thanks to her presence. Rarity bid often, and whenever she did so a frenzied bidding war commenced. The red vase was ugly as ever, but because Rarity seemed to like it, all of a sudden it was the most desirable thing in the world.
In short, the elite of Canterlot bid idiotic amounts of money for crap just because some newcomer likes it.
I'm trying to be cynical about it, but Noble Heart made a pretty big haul that's going right to charity. I'll file this one under 'two wrongs make a right.'
Anyway, tomorrow I'm attending a launch ceremony for a new royal airship. Normally I get out of meaningless ceremonies, but this one's named for my dad: Regal Blue.
I'm expected, it's a great honor for the family, and yadda yadda yadda.
Yours,
~Blueblood, who thinks they can name the airship "Rock Bottom" for all he cares.
Maybe "Derpy," just to see the looks on their faces.
------
Dear Diary,
Aaaaaaaaand yep, Rarity was at the launch ceremony too.
Although it wasn't bad at all. She seems to enjoy being the talk of Canterlot too much to let my presence slow her down. If SHE'S not going to be disturbed by me, then I'm damn well not going to be put off by her.
…That sounded pretty spiteful, didn't it? But does it count as spite if it's for a good cause? You know, putting the past behind you? Forgive and forget? All that good stuff?
We actually started talking a little, but got no further than a few pleasantries before she was whisked away by some nag dragging her to an opera.
I actually kinda wanted to talk more. She's not a bad person, just a little compulsive. Aren't we all, sometimes? She apologized for reading my diary, maybe I should apologize for being a jerk at the Gala.
Yours,
Blueblood
------
Dear Diary,
Formal dinner today. Everypony was there: The Good (Rarity and Fancy), The Bad (Me), and the Ugly (Golden Gem).
Golden Gem tried to seduce me some more, and I'm proud to say the weird feeling of disgust hadn't passed. It's like now I couldn't see her as beautiful even if I tried. Her various physical flaws are the only things I can see: the mole on her nose, her gangly legs, that weird part in her hair that makes a spot look bald, and a flank that's probably skinnier than my foreleg.
Let me tell you, it's a heck of a lot easier to be cruel to somepony you perceive as being ugly.
Something held me back from really ripping into her – and believe me, I was ready. I had rehearsed a tirade to wittily point out everything wrong with her personality and appearance. The little witch would've run bawling from the room. And I was so put off by her looks and persistence that I was gonna do it, too.
But…didn't I just get done writing about how I was gonna apologize to Rarity? What would she think of an apology if she just watched me Badblood somepony else? I could feel her and Fancy watching me. I saw Fancy give a bored eye roll, mentally saying, "just Blueblood being Blueblood."
Well, for him…and for Rarity…I could swallow my well-planned verbal assault.
Golden Gem wasn't gonna get rid of herself, though, so maybe this was a bad time to grow a conscience. I suck at adlibbing too, so I just shot off the first excuse that came to mind. Something that would let her know I wasn't buying what she was selling, and that no amount of wheedling could change my mind.
Celly save me, I said I already had a Special Somepony.
Only about a half-dozen overheard, but they stopped whatever they were doing in shock.
This is Canterlot. The news'll be all over town by tomorrow night. Blueblood, the most desired and reviled bachelor of Canterlot, has a mysterious fillyfriend.
Who doesn't actually exist.
I got the Hell out of there before the shock wore off.
~Blueblood
------
Dear Diary,
Fortunately, high society doesn't really encouraging asking ponies who they're romantically involved with.
Ponies will be watching me closely for a while. Every time I talk to a mare, somepony will think it's my fillyfriend, imagining I'm giving subtle clues in my face. Rumors will spread, be misinterpreted, and spread again. Every piece of gossip will be seized on as truth, then altered to "make a better story."
Then some scandal will emerge, or somepony's cat will do something weird, and it'll all be gone from memory. Such is society.
This'll be awkward for a while, but it won't be bad at all.
And it won't come with the vague guilt the Badblood routine gives me, either. Why didn't I think of this before?
Heh, maybe I'll drop little details to keep 'em guessing. Maybe it's somepony who's not even a unicorn or something. Or a commoner from the country. Or both! I can make up whatever the heck I want.
Anyway, time to focus on something more important: Fancy Pants' Garden/Marriage Proposal Party. All the arrangements are in place. It's gonna be perfect.
Yours,
Prince Blueblood
------
Not going perfectly. At all.
It was all going fine until this gang of crazy mares showed up. One's Twilight Sparkle, another's that Apple girl from Ponyville. And that pink mare that works for the cakes, and a few others I don't recognize.
These Ponyville hicks are rapidly turning the party into a disaster. Croquet has somehow turned into a full-contact sport, and the noise coming from their record player is giving the musicians an aneurism. One of them started digging up the freshly-polished weeds and asked why no one else was gardening at the garden party.
Really.
The pink one annihilated the cake in one go, blasting Fleur with a spray of frosting. Is it bad that all I can say is, 'better her than me?'
So the nice, calm, refined atmosphere that I've spent hours arranging has gone kaput. One of the pegasi flying around disheveled Fancy's mane, and Fleur is spattered in cake debris. I don't think the proposal's gonna happen today. The mood seems a little off.
Normally I'd laugh at something like this, but the whole "Fancy Pants was really counting on me to make it perfect" thing is kind of a killjoy.
Too late for me to do anything. Think I'm gonna hit the special punch and get too drunk to be properly panicked.
------
"This is terrible! How could this happen? This is the worst..."
"Possible..."
"Thing!"
Two unicorns fretted uselessly by the punch bowel. The male glanced at the other, too agitated to be properly angry. "They're yours, aren't they, Rarity? Why did you bring them here?"
"I didn't bring them anywhere," Rarity hissed back at Blueblood. "They brought themselves!"
"So send them away!"
"What? Why me?" She downed her glass in one go.
Blueblood refilled it for her – they were bickering, but it was more a mutual panic than an argument. "They're your friends!"
"I can't just tell off my friends! YOU do it!"
"Why me?" Blueblood asked. His glass was half-full, but he sloshed it through the bowel for a quick refill.
"Because you're obnoxious and disliked anyway, nopony will think anything of it if you're rude to them! The Canterlot ponies will probably thank you for it!"
Blueblood huffed. "I'm not...well, I'm only sometimes obnoxious. Why are you so panicked, anyway? Are you so embarrassed of your friends?"
That hit a sore spot – Rarity grimaced and hesitated a moment, then didn't even answer the question. "Well, why are YOU so upset?"
"Fancy Pants was gonna propose to Fleur." Blueblood shrugged – maybe he shouldn't've come out with it, but after three glasses of hard punch in as many minutes he didn't have much discretion left. "And he was counting on me to make it perfect."
He shrugged again. The alcohol buzz was kicking in, and this all didn't seem so bad anymore. "Hey…does Ditzy have a colt?"
Distracted by her friends' antics, Rarity answered on auto-pilot. "No, she has a filly."
Both their eyes went wide, registering what the other had said.
"A…filly?" Blueblood asked. The thought that Ditzy was gay brought a lot of nice mental images, but also a sense of disappointment.
"A daughter!" Rarity clarified quickly. "Derpy's single, though. She's…"
Rarity gave Blueblood a very strange look. A more calculated thought process had replaced the panic, and she finished the statement with a tiny smile. "…She's available."
Blueblood unleashed a torrent of words with knee-jerk instinct. "I was just wondering if there was somepony home to take care of her after the fall, that's all!"
The mare opened her mouth to say something else, but Blueblood cut in first. "I say, that appears to be Fancy Pants talking with Twilight Sparkle. Hope your name doesn't come up."
Low way to dodge a conversation, but she'll probably thank me for the warning. Blueblood settled back and poured his fifth glass of punch. Rarity had bolted over and was stammering excuses to Fancy Pants. The conversation was quickly backing her into a corner.
Blueblood shrugged. "Sorry, Rarity. Another Canterlot party blown, but this time you did it to yourself."
------
Dear Diary,
You know, Rarity would've deserved it if she got kicked out of high society with her tail between her legs. She played a double game the whole time she was here – none of the socialites knew she was just some low-born shop owner from the country. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure she didn't tell any of her friends that their presence here was nothing but an embarrassment to her.
But I can admire this: When called to the carpet, she turned her back on high society and admitted to everypony that those noisy hicks were her friends. Without hesitation, she said that they were the most important ponies in the world to her.
The mockery was about to commence when Fancy Pants intervened. Turned out he had a wild good time with the country ponies and was glad they showed up. And because Fancy Pants liked them, everypony else decided they did too.
Lemmings! I'm surrounded by lemmings!
I apologized to him about the whole 'proposal' thing, but he waved me off. Said he reconsidered and wanted to do it privately to spare Fleur any social pressure to accept.
So everything worked out, everypony's happy, and Rarity is loved in Canterlot and Ponyville alike.
There's a lesson here:
Lying. Works.
I suppose I'm happy she was able to weasel her way out of any consequences. "Past is past," and all that. Time to move on with our lives.
Speaking of which, after the party she very pointedly walked by me and called out "Come visit Ponyville sometime!" with an obvious wink.
Yeah, I asked her about Ditzy's health and Rarity got it in her head that I have a crush on the pegasus.
She reads too much into things. I don't have a crush on Ditzy.
Yours,
~Blueblood
I think I have a crush on D
Chapter 5: Of Love and Panic
Dear Diary,
Okay, I think I might have a crush on Ditzy.
Sorta. A little.
Am I in love? Maybe. I don’t know what love feels like, so I don’t know if this qualifies. All I know is that I keep thinking about her and want to see her, even though I don’t know what I’d say or do.
But the implications are making my head spin.
The commitment of getting, well, COMMITTED, is daunting enough. I’ve never had a fillyfriend and don’t know how it works at all. The trust, the constantly having to think about what another feels, planning your day around another…and if Rarity is to be believed, a child on top of everything! Schooling, worrying about their future, nurturing, awkward jealousy, trying to be a good fa…fath…yeah, I can’t write it.
Ditzy’s, shall we say, ‘impulsive…’
Okay, she doesn’t seem terribly bright. Does admitting that make me a bad pony? Will she drive me crazy? What if she just up and vanishes one day? What if I can’t even have a decent conversation with her?
She’d hate it in Canterlot! Those preening elitists will tear her apart. She’ll be easy prey! She’ll cry every day. She seems so happy, how will that stand up to the sneering nobles? She’s not even a unicorn!
What if I came to her instead? Live the life of a commoner, move to Ponyville. Classic children’s book stuff. But everything I know is Canterlot royalty. I wouldn’t know how to work an honest job, I have no skills…I’d just be a bum showing up at her doorstep. I wouldn’t be able to provide for a family, and I’d be abandoning my responsibilities to the E.E.
…What if she rejects me?
She wouldn’t right? I’m a perfect catch! I’m rich and…
Well, rich. I’ve spent most of my adult life cultivating an antagonistic personality. Can I be nice if I tried? How can I make myself more attractive?
What about marriage? Would a big, fancy Royal Wedding just give others a chance to laugh at her? They can laugh at me all they want, but I don’t want anypony laughing at her! At least, not where she can hear…
Did I just say “marriage?” The ultimate Game Over. Nothing but getting old and fat afterwards. Where would we spend our years? Would she come here and hate it, or would I go there and hate it?
I’m about to explode! I have no idea how to handle this!
Now wait a minute…Aunt Celly. She’ll know what to do.
Yours,
Blueblood
------
“Blueblood…Blueblood!” Celestia stamped her hoof on the floor, trying to interrupt his panicked tirade.
It wasn’t successful: The alabaster unicorn rambled on, much the same as he had the past few minutes. “…But what about the wedding itself? Sweet Celestia, how can it be done? We could do it unicorn style, but she might hate it. And she doesn’t even have a horn for me to put the ring on! And we can’t do it pegasus style because I can’t fly! Even if there was a spell, I get airsick really easily and that’d put a damper on things. If I vomited she might think I hate her and-“
Princess Celestia sighed and channeled a little magic into her horn. She wasn’t feeling like pulling a prank right now, but at this rate her nephew was just going to give himself a heart attack.
Blueblood didn’t notice her horn glow, but he sure noticed when his voice suddenly went mute. He stopped in confusion, blinked, then glared daggers at her.
“Oh, very funny.” He mouthed.
“I didn’t do it to be funny,” Celestia said gently, giving him a quiet, motherly smile. “I did it so I could get a word in edgewise.”
Blueblood shrugged, still clearly upset. Celestia sighed again and continued. “Nephew…pardon the expression, but don’t you think you’re putting the cart before the horse? You’ve barely spoken with this mare and you’re already thinking about marriage. Dreaming of marrying a fine pony is wonderful, but you’ve let your cynicism turn it into a nightmare.”
The prince mouthed something.
Celestia leaned in close. “What was that?”
Blueblood tilted his head and arched an eyebrow, frowning pensively. He tapped the floor slowly with his hoof…
“Oh right, sorry.” Blushing a little at the slip, Celestia flicked her horn to restore his voice.
“I saaaaaaid ‘isn’t it responsible to think about the future?’”
“Blueblood, you’re barely twenty!” She giggled, putting a hoof to her mouth. “There’s such a thing as being too responsible, especially for a stallion your age. Life is about getting out there! Taking chances! Finding love! Making mistakes!”
“But if this is love…”
He hesitated a moment and finished, head downcast. “Then a mistake will hurt the one I love.”
“Oh, Blueblood.” Celestia trod over and leaned down, sliding her horn past his face to bring their foreheads together.
“That’s something you have to accept. Anytime you let another pony into your heart, there will be pain. Even if you make no mistakes – and you will – you will still hurt and be hurt. She’s already in your heart, Blueblood. Whether it’s true love I cannot say, but you already care for her, and your worry is hurting you. It’s hurting me too, Blueblood, because I’ve let you into my heart as well. Seeing you so scared, so uncertain…I wish I could take that all away from you.”
Blueblood’s eyes widened as he heard the sadness in her voice. Ruling since the birth of Equestria…over so many centuries, how many ponies had Princess Celestia let into her heart? How many times had she been hurt? Every time she would care for another, she would feel their pain, feel their sorrow, and one day watch them die.
And yet here she was after being hurt so many times, being hurt again by some silly prince’s silly worries.
“So…” he asked, breathless. “Why do we let ourselves love?”
“Because it brings us joy as well,” she murmured in his ear. “Because life is too long and too lonely without loving others. For me most of all, but also for you. You’ve got to take this chance, Blueblood.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, deflated. Celestia frowned as he drew back away from her.
“I can’t,” Blueblood said with a slow shake of his head. “She’ll be miserable with me, and that’ll make me miserable. Better for me to be miserable by myself than to share it.”
Princess Celestia drew a quick breath and exhaled sharply. If her despondent nephew was going to let doubt defeat love so easily, she’d have to resort to drastic measures. His eyes still lowered, Blueblood missed the fierce gleam that came to her eye.
“You must go, Blueblood,” she said sternly.
“I told you, I can’t!”
“There’s one more reason why…”
Blueblood shivered, feeling the temperature in the room drop a notch. He brought his head up to see Celestia still smiling beatifically at him. But there was…something about that smile.
“Remember that time…” she asked softly. “Remember that time when you were a little colt? You put on my crown and a little pink dress and ran around the room shouting, ‘I’m a pretty princess!’”
The prince turned crimson at the memory. He blinked in confusion and shook his head. “I, uh, I really don’t see…”
“I took pictures,” she announced, much louder than her usual voice. “And if you don’t go to Ponyville to talk to this mare, I’ll show them to all your friends.”
Blueblood blinked again, and the look of confusion was replaced by shock. “WHAT?!! What in the BLUE BLAZING BUCK ARE YOU THINKING?!!”
“Language, language,” she tutted. “What I’m thinking is that my nephew needs to come out of his shell. And…maybe he needs a little nudge to help him along.”
“WELL,” he shouted, standing up on his hind hooves and pointing a foreleg at her. This was the first time he’d ever sparred with his aunt, and some part of him relished the coming duel. “The joke’s on you, I don’t have any friends!”
She matched his posture, standing up in a ridiculous bipedal fashion. “Fancy Pants,” she said evenly, pointing a hoof right back at him.
Strong riposte, but also a predictable one. Blueblood smirked as he verbally parried. “I played ‘princess’ with him all the time when we were colts. Not only does he already know, but he was a ‘princess’ himself more than once!”
“Clever.” Celestia drew her head back and continued the assault. “Noble Heart.”
“He’s not a friend, Auntie,” Blueblood sniffed. “Just some pony who runs a bad charity auction. I go there because I feel sorry for him.”
“Fleur De Lis.”
“Pul-LEEZ, Aunt Celly. She’s just Fancy’s Pants’ foreleg candy, and not a bright one at that.”
“Helperton and Star Gazer.” Celestia smiled, raising the stakes.
That knocked Blueblood off balance both figurative and literally – he stumbled a bit on his hind hooves before snapping back to a four-legged position. “What? How do you know about them?”
“I was the one who let them into the Gala two years ago.” The challenge went out of Celestia’s voice, and she lowered herself gently to the floor. “Afterwards, they wrote a letter thanking me for it. They told me all about the wonderful stallion they met who made the bits flow into the orphanages, the free kitchens, and the homeless shelters.”
“That was you, Blueblood,” she pointed at him as if he hadn’t already known. “We’ve corresponded since, and both of them consider you a dear friend.”
The white unicorn shook his head, still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that Celly knew all along. Okay, it wasn’t THAT surprising, but…“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hoof in it? Would’ve saved me a lot of bad excuses and sneaking around.”
“Because you could do it without me.”
Celestia looked at him with…pride. “You did fine. You did wonderful, and you did it all on your own. Would you have worked so hard if the Great Sun-Goddess Celestia (tm) swooped in and fixed everything? You would’ve been happy for a moment, then back to feeling useless and bored. You may have felt like I manipulated you. You may have even felt intimidated: ‘Oh, Aunt Celly’s here, I might as well stop trying. She can do everything better anyway.’”
“Here, now, YOU are the hero of the downtrodden. YOU did it, not your aunt propping you up in the background. If you had known of my involvement – even minor as it was – you would have given up far too soon.”
“So why tell me now?” Blueblood asked. Despite his best efforts, his heart warmed at her words. She had praised him before, but this was different. He always had her love, this he knew. But he never thought he had her respect.
“At this point, you know full well what you’ve done by yourself.” She smiled benignly at him, all thoughts of blackmail by the wayside. “You know that you can do things, that you can take chances with other ponies and succeed. Now do it again. Go to Ponyville and see where love takes you. You may be surprised by how happy it can make a pony.”
Blueblood took a deep breath…and nodded, giving a small, nervous smile. “Yeah…okay.” He swallowed and turned to leave.
“Ask Cadence if you need help!” Celestia called after him. “Remember, love is her specialty.”
Cadence?
Blueblood snorted loudly. “Her? I wouldn’t ask her about the color pink. Besides, I can do this by myself.”
“Of course,” she smiled demurely and even bowed a little as he strode out, head held high. Had he been paying a little more attention, he may have noticed that she shut the door behind him a little too quickly.
No sooner had her nephew gone than Princess Celestia seized a pen and parchment with unusual zest.
Her smile grew a little wider as she wrote. She even hummed to herself a little, adding a final comment in a singsong voice.
“’By yourself’…but with just a lit~tle bit of help.”
------
My Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle,
I write to ask a favor of you and the wonderful friends you have made. A young noble of Canterlot has fallen in love with one of the residents of Ponyville. He will be headed to your town shortly. He has a good heart, but lacks experience in dealing with other ponies. I’d like you and your friends to
Celestia paused a long moment, staring at the incomplete sentence on the paper.
“Do what?” she mused aloud. “Set him up on a date? Make sure things go right?”
“…Prove that he really does need his Aunt Celly for everything, after all.” She sighed and shook her head.
She loved Blueblood. She’d loved many others over the course of her long life, but that didn’t make him any less dear to her. She wanted him to succeed. She wanted him to return to Canterlot with a mare in his hooves, and carry her right to the palace for a big royal wedding with a lot of smiles and cake. And with one little letter, she could lay the groundwork to make it as easy as pie.
But Blueblood would know. He was naïve, but he was smart. A horde of ponies greeting him with open arms, complete with a romantic setup for him and his special somepony? Twilight and her friends would take to it with their usual enthusiasm, and Blueblood would see Celestia’s hoofprints all over the project. He’d know she was just arranging things for him. He’d resent it, or worse, he’d settle back and let her do everything.
Celestia’s horn flickered gold, and the half-finished letter was ripped in half.
“It’s on you, nephew.” She looked out the window, into the distance. She wanted so much to make everything perfect…but this was the right decision.
------
Dear Diary,
Ponyville.
Farmers. Dirt. Crazy – and I do mean CRAZY – mares.
And…Derpy. Or Ditzy. Still gotta ask Rarity which one’s her real name.
I wasn’t being rhetorical there. I’m going to Carousel Boutique to ask Rarity her advice.
Now if you’ve been paying attention (which you haven’t: you’re an inanimate diary), you know that Rarity isn’t really on my list of “Ponies I Like.” She is, however, the only one here who knows me as something other than a royal pain in the flank. She’s good at dealing with ponies and may have some insights that could help me. She seems to approve of my seeing Ditzy.
Rarity also knows me better than most BECAUSE SHE READ MY DIARY, the little snoop! But I’ll call it even if this works out. At least it’ll save me the trouble of explaining.
I don’t really want to bring Rarity onboard, but I don’t have a choice. The thing is…I have no idea where Ditzy lives.
------
A high-pitched voice squealed over his shoulder. “Why don’t you just ask for directions?”
Blueblood gave a start and snapped his diary shut – right on the nose of the pink pony who had snuck up behind him and leaned over his writing.
“Ow~heehee!” She giggled and sat back, scratching the back of her chaotic pink mane. “Wow, good reflexes, Mister! You got me.”
Blueblood studiously ignored her and motioned for the check. A pleasant lunch at an outdoor café, ruined by…whatever the heck this thing was.
“SoooooooWhy don’t you just ask for directions?” She bounced right back to her hooves and wagged her tail enthusiastically.
Wagged her tail? Blueblood arched an eyebrow and put on his best ‘you are mud beneath my hooves’ frown. “Stallions don’t ask for directions.”
The logic was perfectly sound in his mind, but the pink thing kept babbling as if he hadn’t said a word. “You can ask me, I know where Derpy’s house is! Ask me! Ask me! Ask me!”
Blueblood groaned, hiding his diary in his saddlebag. “Get away from me, you crack-addicted sin against Celestia.”
He actually winced a little. That was mean, even for him, and this mare was just being overly-friendly. Maybe she didn’t deserve it. Maybe he’d feel a little bad when she stopped in shock and cried…
…Which she didn’t; she just kept right on going. “I know where everypony’s house is, because I know where all of my friends live, and everypony in town is my friend!”
She gave a loud gasp of surprise, giving Blueblood a scare before she resumed. “Oh are you new in town? I love, love, love, (and once more in caps) LOVE meeting new friends! We’ll have to have a welcome party for you! My name’s Pinkie Pie! What’s your name?”
Blueblood’s eyebrow twitched with enough force to send a spasm through the rest of his body. Clenched teeth grated out his response. “My name’s Dick GoBuckYourself.”
The message wasn’t received: the pink earth pony began going on about the details for her new friend Dick’s welcome party. Blueblood waited miserably to be brought his check, head in his hooves. He glanced up wearily as her babbling continued…
And there, sitting at the next table down, was Rarity. She was looking at him with that smirk ponies get when they know you’re suffering and they’re enjoying every minute of it.
The bitch.
She came to his rescue, though she strutted over slowly, taking her sweet time. “Pinkie, Darling,” she said. Somehow she had power over the pink monster: Pinkie shut up immediately and looked at her.
“This is my…good friend,” she began. Taking the hint, Blueblood gave Pinkie a wide, ‘we’re-totally-not-lying’ grin. “He’s just here…visiting. And looking up an old acquaintance.”
Blueblood nodded eagerly. Pinkie retreated a step, glancing between the two. “Oh…okay.”
Maybe it was payback for earlier, but it seemed Rarity couldn’t resist a quiet dig. “And we’re definitely going to get him something to wear! Can you believe that tacky tie he’s wearing? Goodness, who dressed you this morning, Darling?”
Blueblood’s smile widened so large it got painful. He cast a sidelong glance to Rarity, accepting the challenge. When it came to passive-aggressive insults, she didn’t know who she was messing with.
“Oh come now, my dear,” he said, maintaining a veneer of politeness. “If I was looking for fashion tips, I would go to a Canterlot fashion store. There’s certainly no good fashion shops in Ponyville.”
Rarity twitched and her smile dropped to a challenging sneer. “It. Is. On!” she whispered harshly before raising her voice to convey false cheer. “Of course, Darling. We all know you came to Ponyville for one reason. And I must say, your child is looking more like you every day!”
Blueblood countered without a missed beat. “Speaking of kids, your father came to me. He knows about all the MULES you’ve dated, and wants you to know that he loves you no matter what choices you make in life.”
“And speaking of choices,” Rarity huffed, no slouch herself. “Your child has been looking a little skinny. Are you behind on the alimony payments again?”
“Alimony…?” Pinkie’s eyes widened, recalling what she had read in his journal. “And you were looking for Derpy…are you Dinky’s father?”
He didn’t even hear her. All attention was on Rarity. In the back of his mind, Blueblood was impressed: Rarity was pretty good at insult fighting. But he had one big advantage on her. He was vicious.
He drew himself up and thrust his nose into the air. “Speaking of children, you’re looking a little FAT. Are you pregnant?”
To much, he realized an instant before her hoof connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.
------
“You started it,” Blueblood grumbled, holding the ice to the side of his head.
Like a pissed-off sister, Rarity had roughly escorted him back to her home and retrieved an ice bag. She was bringing over two cups of tea, looking more resigned than angry.
She rolled her eyes at the comment and sighed. “Oh, what am I going to do with you?”
“Uh, throw me out?” Blueblood accepted his tea and shrugged. “Nothing’s owed between us, Rarity. You don’t even know why I’m in Ponyville.”
“Derpy,” she said with a slight smile.
At this point, he didn’t even bat an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe you do know. But that’s none of your business, so I can be out of your mane and on my way.”
“Looking like that?” She glanced him over, vague look of disgust on her face. “You look like a Canterlot noble.”
“There’s a reason for that,” Blueblood noted, deadpan.
“Have you thought about what she’ll think of it?” Rarity pressed, and honestly no, he hadn’t. “Derpy’s a shy little sweetheart, do you think she’ll be happy if you show up dressed in an outfit she could never afford? And your personality!”
Blueblood groaned – she raised a good point about the suit, but this was silly. “You’ve read my diary. You know I just act like a flankhole to push away gold diggers.”
“Darling, you ARE a flankhole,” she said without a hint of humor, like a mother giving stern advice. “Was Pinkie being a gold digger when you called her a sin against Celestia? It’s just a part of your personality. When you get annoyed or nervous, you assert yourself with insults. But you can’t do that with Derpy, she’s too sensitive. What, are you going to give witty commentary when she makes a mess or says something silly?”
“NO!” he shouted, waving a hoof wildly in front of his face. “I wouldn’t do something like that with her!”
He glanced down, biting a lip. “Uh, at least not intentionally.”
Rarity smiled patiently. “Exactly, Dear. It’s when you’re not paying attention that your smart mouth will get you in trouble. And the only way to stop it is to train yourself in how to deal with a lady: Things you must do or not do, say or not say.”
“And I…” with a flourish, Rarity perched a pair of glasses on her face. “Am the perfect one to teach you.”
“Uh-huh.” Blueblood was less-than-impressed. “Didn’t we just get done fighting? Aren’t we – you know – not each other’s favorite ponies? Why do you want to help me?”
Rarity cocked her head to the side and let loose with a girly giggle. “Well, what can I say? I’m a sucker for love stories.”
Her smile got a little more sedate, and a little kinder. “And if there’s any pony in Ponyville who deserves Prince Charming…it’s dear Derpy.”
“Prince Charming’s already married,” Blueblood said with a wry smile. “Go figure.”
“You’ll have to do, then.” Rarity shrugged and gave a wry smile of her own. “It’ll take a little work, though. We’ll get started right now: Lesson one, never, ever, ever call a girl fat.”
“But what if she is fat?”
“Lots of work,” Rarity corrected herself. She facehoofed, and started again. “Right, Lesson zero…”
Chapter 6: The First Date is Always..."Special"
Blueblood had sat through enough tailoring sessions to endure them with more than his usual patience. He stood rock-still on Rarity’s dressing platform, letting the other unicorn work her fashion. A dozen articles floated around them, each encased in a blue aura: a needle, a spool of black thread, and five different kinds of buttons that she couldn’t decide between. The mostly-finished suit on his body was classically black: functional, but far too generic for the fashion world of Canterlot.
She quizzed him as she worked, too. “So…what topic should you bring up first?”
“Tell her how great she looks today,” Blueblood intoned with a bored voice.
“Good! Now second…do you think this set of buttons looks better, or this one?”
They both looked the same to him, so Blueblood picked the first choice. Better to just get it out of the way than question a fashion-maniac.
After a bit of deliberating, Rarity went with the second choice anyway.
It was like having a cat for a mentor. For all her talk about being the perfect one to teach him, Rarity couldn’t stay on topic for five minutes. She would start by talking about ‘what a mare wants,’ then quickly drift off to the weather, to life in Ponyville, to the latest Canterlot fashions…
Over the two days they spent together, she said maybe four things he didn’t already know about romance. Most of her advice revolved around catch-phrases and stereotypes, the likes of which you see in books and movies.
“Make her feel pretty.” What if she’s a toughie who thinks “prettiness” is silly?
“Give gifts.” What if she feels those are a poor substitute for real feelings?
“Compliment her outfit.” …I’ve never seen Ditzy in clothes.
When Rarity told him to “look into her eyes,” he almost said it. ”You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”
He was probably right. Rarity never spoke from personal experience, instead citing “a mare’s perspective” and suspiciously-unnamed “experts.”
But she was doing him a big favor with the suit, and she at least thought she was doing a favor with the ‘lessons.’ He could choke back his witty retorts and let her get the well-intentioned advice out of her system. It was strange, but Blueblood felt…comfortable in Rarity’s presence. He didn’t have to hide anything or prove anything. She wasn’t hostile nor falsely cheerful. Like a stern friend who had a playful streak.
Friend?
Blueblood swallowed a little as she pulled off the buttons *again* to compare another set. “Rarity?”
“Hm?” She mumbled distractedly, still eyeing the buttons.
A long hesitation followed, long enough for her to lose herself again in the tiny details of a well-made suit.
He swallowed again and said it quietly. “Sorry about the Gala.”
That got Rarity’s attention. She flicked her head, sending the myriad objects to rest on the nearby table. The distraction removed, she raised her head to look him in the eyes. Both of their faces were neutral, each one thinking of the disastrous night and the things they learned about each other since.
Rarity gave a far-off little smile, eyes looking into the past rather than the stallion before her. “You know…I spent so much time before the Gala fussing over every little detail of my dress. I was so confident I’d be your…what was that phrase you use? Lucky Winner? Pretty Princess?”
“It’s embarrassing to think about now,” she continued, turning her head away from him. “I was so caught up in the fantasy! I even made the suit I envisioned you in and danced with it when I was alone, twirling around and around. I ‘la-la-la’d’ the music and imagined the sweet nothings you would whisper to me with a cute little blush.”
“If there was one doubt, one tiny inkling of a doubt that was in my mind, troubling me with visions of rejection…it was that I would come off as too ‘ordinary.’ Too ‘country.’ Not classy enough for a prince. I made five dresses for the occasion, each more perfect than the last. I spent weeks trying to get the ‘Ponyville’ out of my voice. Those glass shoes I wore were so uncomfortable to wear, but I did it anyway. I was certain that if any little detail led to anything other than the highest class, I would be rejected. Everything had to be perfect. I would be the most refined mare at the ball, whether or not I actually was the most refined mare at the ball.”
She looked back, but her eyes were still in the past. A sad smile danced at the edge of her lips. “But you hate the preening, the faking, the self-obsession. If only I had been a little more honest, a little more myself. If I had known the real you, rather than the picture I painted in my mind…”
Her eyes refocused, and met his. “Maybe things would have been different.”
A heavy silence hung between them. Blueblood finally broke it with the words that needed to be said, much as he hated to say them.
“Maybe…but that ship has sailed, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” she sighed quietly, looking away.
Then Blueblood did something very, very strange.
He stepped over and hugged her. Not the overzealous kind of hug with forehooves and all, but a gentle interlocking of their necks. Her eyes snapped wide open, while his were closed.
The words came readily, Blueblood knowing that he would just screw it up if he stopped to think about it. “You know, one day you’re going to make a lucky stallion very, very happy.”
Rarity released a sharp, jagged breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Listen to you!” she laughed gently. “You’re just going to charm Ditzy off her hooves!”
Blueblood was about to respond when she made a disgusted noise, eyeing his cuffs. “SQUARE buttons? What WAS I thinking?”
And the moment passed.
------
Dear Diary
FINALLY. Dear, Sweet Celestia, if I never get fitted for another suit again it’ll be too soon. I’ve sat through countless sessions before, but never with RARITY.
And never again with RARITY.
I mean, 95% of the suit came easily. But those dang BUTTONS. We tried on every single black button in her store, and buck me, but the only ones I could tell the difference between were the square ones and the black ones. The only ones I really didn’t like were these blocky square buttons, which of course were the ones she finally decided were “perfect.” But what-the-hay-EVER, I’m just glad it’s over with. I told her the dang things looked great just to get out of there. Ugly buttons? I’ll live.
Now onto the important thing: Ditzy.
I think I’m basically on my own with figuring out how to handle her. Not only does Rarity’s advice come from romance books, but a lot of it’s self-contradictory. Respect her personality, but focus the conversation on her beauty? Be nice, but also be firm and aggressive (because I guess mares dig that)? And here’s my personal favorite: “Just be yourself,” which seems to negate all the personality-manipulating advice that came before it. I’m even wearing a totally different outfit than I’ve ever worn before, but hey, “Just be yourself.”
I didn’t fight about the suit, but this whole “just be yourself! But don’t look like yourself or act like yourself,” thing threw me off. I commented on it to Rarity. At first she said something along the lines of “typical stallion.” Then she tried to rationalize it with more catch-phrases and stereotypes.
I’m kind of proud of myself. I didn’t resort to personal attacks to make my point. I didn’t turn it into a fight. I didn’t even mention how by this point I was *certain* she had never been romanced herself. I just stuck with the firm logic of my argument and let her embarrass herself with increasingly-weak explanations.
She stopped the silliness a lot faster than I expected – when she’s not feeling crazy, Rarity has a pretty good head on her shoulders.
I think I made her think about it a little too, because she seemed to ponder for a few before giving a much more considered response.
“Look, Blueblood,” she said, and proceeded after a long hesitation. “Appearances and manners aren’t everything. But they are SOMETHING. A good first impression gets your hoof in the door. Ponies get to know each other slowly, so if there’s a pony you really want to get close to, you want to show your best side so you can get off to the best start. It may feel dishonest, but it’s true: sometimes, you don’t show them the real you…so they can eventually get to know the real you. And one day, love the real you.”
That shut me up for a bit. It wasn’t a perfect explanation, but for a question like that, there was no such thing. At least she was willing to grapple with it honestly.
Speaking of honesty…what she said at the end sounded a little familiar. I asked her where she got it from, and she got this adorable little stutter going as she confessed it was from one of the first entries of my diary.
Girl quotes my own diary – THAT SHE READ – in conversation with me? Classy.
But I can’t be too hard on her. She owned up to it, and is right about to do her best to set me up with the mare of my dreams.
(“Mare of my dreams?” That sounds so corny in hindsight, but I wrote it without even thinking.)
We leave for Ditzy’s house in a few minutes. Rarity’s gonna introduce me, then leave on some subtle pretext. That’s the plan anyway.
Wish me luck.
~Prince Blueblood
------
“Little Dinky’s at school,” Rarity explained as they walked down the road. The afternoon sun shone brightly above them, lending cheer to the townsfolk below and misery to the young noble in his stiff black suit.
“Derpy’s a postmare, so usually her afternoon gets taken up with package delivery. But Ponyville’s department doesn’t ship packages on Mondays, so it’s her easy day. I don’t know if she’ll be at home, but that’s as good a place to start as any.”
Blueblood grunted something monosyllabic. His eyes kept meeting curious stares as they passed other ponies, and after a few moments he realized it was his suit. He was probably wearing more fabric than the rest of the town combined. The black outfit soaked up the spring afternoon sun, and the material itself was thicker and warmer than his usual white vest. Sure, it didn’t scream “Canterlot,” but he was still completely overdressed.
This is definitely the last time I go to Rarity for help.
Rarity pointed down the lane to a small, but cozy little one-floor house. “That’s Derpy’s house right ovEEEEIIII!”
A grey blur slammed to the ground right in front of them like a meteor, kicking up a cloud of dust and a minor shockwave. Combined, they ruined the three hours the unicorns spent this morning getting Blueblood immaculately groomed.
Blueblood stood stock still, willing the dust to settle on the suit and on Rarity, just not on his body. That was part of the reason he tended to wear clothes. He had a pure white coat, so any grime that got on it was immediately visible. It tended to…throw him off a little.
But for whatever reason, the panic that usually came with a messy coat didn’t hit him this time. He just quirked an eyebrow, tenaciously accepting that NOTHING goes according to plan in Ponyville, so why start now?
The dust settled as quickly as it rose. A grey pegasus stood in front of them, shaking it off her like a dog. She stopped after a second and looked at them, tilting her head a little so one eye looked at Blueblood and one at Rarity.
She had big eyes, almost as big at that grin she wore on her face.
There were two things that Blueblood realized at that very moment.
The first was that, in all honesty, she was a little homely. There were superficial flaws: she was dusty from the collision and windswept from the rapid flight. But there was more to it than that. Her nose and legs were a little too short, her neck a little too long for the body it attached to. She didn’t hold herself like a proper mare or even an athlete, she just kind of kept her body aloft with legs spread a little too widely apart. She didn’t have much of a flank, either.
The second thing he realized, at the exact same moment, was that she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
Everything else…kind of blanked out. The world consisted of Ditzy, and a bunch of other stuff that didn’t matter as much.
Rarity batted at her mane with a hoof, futilely trying to remove the dust. “Derpy, dear, kindly be more careful! You could have hurt…”
She glanced to the side, and did a double-take. Blueblood’s hair was rumpled, his coat had turned a fine tan…and his pupils had been replaced by hearts. A small stream of tiny hearts was lifting from the top of his head, popping when they got about a foot above. He was utterly motionless, staring at the object of his affection.
With a groan and an eye roll, Rarity turned back to Derpy to find her oblivious as well. She was watching the hearts emerge from Blueblood’s head, content smile on her face.
“Oooooooo…”
“Darling, wha-“
“Bubbles!” Derpy giggled.
Rarity was half-tempted to leave them there, but that would only lead to confusion later. Forcing an innocent smile on her face, she gave Blueblood a sharp elbow in the ribs. He ‘oofed’ and shook out of his haze, ending the stream of heart-bubbles and snapping Derpy out of her trance.
“I’m Blueblood,” He said in a dull, love-struck voice. Blueblood didn’t even send an angry look at Rarity for the sore rib.
“I’m Ditzy Doo, but everyone calls me Derpy!” She flexed her wings and took a second look. “Hey! You shaved since we met last!”
“Darling!” Rarity shouted, still flustered from the encounter. “What was that all about!”
“I saw Rainbow Dash trying out suicide dives!” Derpy’s grin widened. “I wanted to try one too! I ended up landing instead, but it wasn’t bad for a first try!”
“Rainbow Dash is a maniac!” Rarity snapped, shocked indignation on her face. “She should be no pony’s role model, least of all your own! Or did you forget what happened to the town hall when you tried to sonic rainboom?”
Now it was Blueblood’s turn to elbow Rarity, albeit a bit more gently.
“Thanks for the help, Rarity.” The words oozed sarcasm. “I got it from here.”
“She almost killed me, I’m allowed to be indignant,” she hissed back, then laughed a little at Derpy. “Aha, well, Blueblood…True Point, whatever, was back in town, you see. He asked about you, and I remembered it was Monday, so we decided to pop on over and see what you were up to.”
Blueblood opened up his mouth to say something, but Rarity continued. “Now I’d love to stay and chat, bu~t I have to go do the…thing, at the place. You know. I’ll leave you two together.”
She dashed off. Blueblood managed to get the first word of “How are you?” out of his mouth before Rarity dashed back. “Alone,” she said with a sweet smile and wink.
Then she was off again. This time Blueblood managed “I hope you’re-“ before she zipped back next to them. “The Food in Hoof Café has some good lunch specials. It’s the next street down, look for the tables under yellow umbrellas.”
Once more she ran off. Blueblood took a deep breath, cast his gaze skyward, and waited for-
“I think I’ve got some coupons in here somewhere,” Rarity dashed back onto the scene again, purse levitated in front of her. This time Blueblood was ready with his leg stuck out. Rarity tripped and went sprawling head over tail.
“’Food in Hoof Café?’ Sounds good. Would you like to go out for lunch, Ditzy?”
Blueblood was surprised how easily the words came out. Maybe he should thank Rarity for focusing his mind.
“Uh…sure.” A little confused, Ditzy trod up alongside him and the pair began walking down the street.
Ditzy cast a glance back towards Rarity. “Should we help her?”
“She’s fine.”
------
Though he had driven himself crazy with worry earlier, Blueblood had calmed down a lot since deciding to seek out Ditzy. With the decision made, he recognized there was little use in worrying until he met her again.
Thus said, he was certainly anxious. Like any young stallion on his first date, butterflies found their way into his stomach. Worst-case scenarios had danced in his head, and many pickup lines had been practiced in a mirror, each worse than the last. It was part of the reason why he let Rarity dress and lecture him – any guidance was welcome, even from her.
For most stallions, the anxiety only picks up when they meet the mare they have their eye on. They watch their every move, seeking to always say and do the exact right thing. Blueblood was different, though. Having never even considered going on a date before the last few weeks, he had made little plans and had no idea what to expect.
The lack of expectations along with Ditzy’s free and open nature made for a very good combination. They reached the outdoor café, placed their orders, and began to talk. When Blueblood talked, Ditzy was patient and friendly, giving him her full attention. When Ditzy talked, Blueblood watched her, thrilled to just be there with her. All the worries and anxieties he carried into the meeting…faded away as the minutes flew by.
They were nothing alike, it was true. Ditzy spoke very slowly and methodically, with childish giggles and stumbling over hard words. But Blueblood – not a stallion normally known for his patience – found it comforting. Canterlot conversation was fast-paced and focused. Everypony wanted something. They talked too much, either hiding weaknesses or pouncing on them. Ditzy didn’t hide her weaknesses. She didn’t want anything, and she didn’t have much to say.
She definitely didn’t have much to say, leaving Blueblood to fill up most of the silence. He was in his comfort zone and he enjoyed it immensely, speaking in a way he only ever spoke to his aunts. He did impressions of some of the more eccentric nobles, and whispered a few harmless scandals that the princesses concealed from public eye.
Wanting to take the focus away from his royal status, Blueblood quickly turned the conversation to the E.E.
“Truth be told,” he said, chuckling a little at his own joke, “The biggest risk to the Egalitarian Equestrians’ financial security comes from its other founders. Helperton comes from a very quaint sect of the previous generation that holds an irrational distrust of banks. If he had a Princess’ ransom, he’d just keep it in his mattress and hope for the best. And after all that work I did, leaning on the First Equestrian Bank to give us 6% interest! Star Gazer barely even thinks of the money, and thank Celestia for that. One time I narrowly stopped him from betting the farm on stocks for a mining operation right in the middle of Diamond Dog territory. In the spring, no less! I’m sure you can imagine how…”
Blueblood trailed off, his attention returning to Ditzy. She was watching him and smiling, but there wasn’t a hint of comprehension in that smile.
He swallowed, a few old fears returning. Am I ever going to be able to hold a real conversation with her?
A few stutters came out of his mouth and he sighed. “You…didn’t follow any of that, did you?”
“No…” Ditzy admitted, scratching the back of her head. She frowned a little, seeing him deflate with the admission.
But then her grin returned, wide as he had ever seen it. “But I really like listening to you!”
“You do?” I don’t understand. She isn’t intimidated? Embarrassed? Bored? I know I’d be bored if somepony rambled on about things I don’t understand.
“I’m not a smart pony,” Ditzy said, and – to his shame – Blueblood didn’t correct her. “To other ponies, I talk slow, but to me, everypony else talks fast. If you tell me something important, I’ll super-dooper-looper try my very best to get it all. But if it’s not a big deal and I don’t understand everything…I’m having fun, you’re having fun, so why worry?”
It took Blueblood a moment to follow the simple wisdom of it. He had a sharp mind that was always thinking and overthinking, analyzing and judging. He worried about the future, fretted over class and race, and could think of a thousand ways a relationship with Ditzy could go wrong.
But here, now…he was happy. So wasn’t all that other stuff just a big distraction?
“Why worry…” he repeated her words, a slow smile spreading over his features.
The smile turned to a grin, showing that he understood. “Why worry!”
And then, a look of vague doubt. “But…I’m from Canterlot, you know.”
“Why worry?” She said again, smile unchanging.
“I mean, it’s more complicated than that.” Blueblood hesitated a second, wondering if he should bring it up before deciding to roll with it. “I’m a royal. Prince Blueblood. You know.”
Ditzy giggled. “Of course I know Blueblood. He’s the nice stallion who helped me during the storm and is taking me out to lunch. Duh.”
“But doesn’t the whole ‘noble’ thing…complicate things?”
“I’m no good with complicated,” Ditzy responded, patiently fielded every doubt he threw at her. “Simple is better. Fun is fun, happy is happy.”
Blueblood fidgeted a little. “I…guess so.” His throat felt too full to give a longer response. Maybe the heat was getting to him. His heart was beating fast in his chest, fluttering so quickly he was almost shaking on the outside.
He didn’t feel comfortable in Ditzy’s presence anymore. She was somepony he could easily talk to, but now his tongue was rooted to the floor of his mouth. He felt cold and warm at the same time. Nervous and overjoyed. Like he was swimming in a dream, but somehow tightly-wound and paranoid. So many contradictory emotions were flooding through him he felt fit to burst.
His feelings had changed, too. Earlier, he felt that the world consisted of Ditzy and some less important things. But now there was nothing around her but darkness. There was no sound but her voice. Nothing to look at but her. Ditzy wasn’t the most important thing in the world, she was the only thing in the world.
And she was leaning in closer…
“Blueblood…” she said slowly, bringing her head over the table. “I like you.”
Oh Celly, she’s giving me bedroom eyes.
It was a schoolfoal’s thing to say, but he didn’t care. He matched her movement, letting her fill up even more of his vision. “I like you too.”
They both subtly puckered their lips and leaned even closer. A tiny, cynical voice in the back of his mind told him it just too perfect to actually happen.
And it was right.
Ditzy’s half-lidded eyes went wide. She had leaned too far forward on her chair and the legs had abruptly skidded out from under her. She gave a yelp of surprise and fell forward, slamming her forehead into Blueblood’s face. He rocked backwards, pressing a hoof to a bruised snout while Ditzy continued her inevitable facefall onto the table.
“OH, COME ON!” Rarity screamed, leaping out of the bushes before a pink hoof whisked her back into cover.
“Ow, jeez!” Blueblood shouted, pain and shock rudely ending the spell. “Watch it, you clum-“
He put a lid on it before finishing the sentence, but the damage was done.
Oh no.
Tears immediately sprang to Ditzy’s eyes. “I’m sorry!” she said in a panicked voice, for all the world like a child anxious to appease an abusive parent.
No-no-no…
“I know I’m clumsy, and dumb, and I know I keep screwing things up, and I know…” she continued the self-destroying tirade, tears continuing to come down.
No-no-no-no…
Blueblood could feel the situation deteriorate, but in his guilty panic had no idea how to save it.
“I go on my FIRST DATE in like a MILLION YEARS and I can’t even…” Ditzy hesitated, an idea seeming to come to her mind.
She smiled at Blueblood, a horribly forced smile that hurt to look at. “Yeah, well, derp-derp-Derpy! That’s just who I am, you know? Clumsy as they come.”
She bonked her head with her hoof a few times, giggling feebly. That was enough for Blueblood. He had to do something. He still couldn’t think of anything but a parade of “no’s,” so he started talking without the slightest forethought. It was a bad plan – it probably didn’t even count as a plan – but thought had failed him, so maybe a lack of thinking would save the day.
“THAT’S NOT SO WEIRD!” he said loudly, easily getting the attention of everypony else in the plaza. “I MEAN, LOTS OF PONIES HAVE PROBLEMS. LIKE ME! I TOTALLY LOSE CONTROL OF MY MAGIC ALL THE TIME!”
“You…do?” She asked. At least she was confused now instead of miserable.
Time to kick it up a notch. “YEAH! LIKE NOW!”
With mad certainty, he magically seized a chair from the table next to them. The blue-green mare in it screamed and tumbled out as it lifted in the air, encased in his magic aura. Blueblood swung it with as much force as he could manage, bringing it up into a tall arc to slam directly on his fearlessly-grinning head.
As the shattered pieces went flying and Ditzy screamed something, he had precisely one instant to realize that he might have overdone it a little.
------
Blueblood woke up in the hospital with the mother of all headaches. The fact that the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Rarity didn’t help matters at all.
To her credit, she had remained by his side the whole time, waiting for him to wake up. Also to her credit, she was really, REALLY trying not to smile at his bizarre escape.
‘Trying,’ anyway. She was smirking, but at least she was trying not to.
Rarity hid the expression by levitating a sheet of paper up to her face. “Report cards are in, Blueblood. You got a ‘B’ for intentions, and definitely an ‘A’ for heart. But performance, ooh, ‘F-minus.’ You really got to improve, Darling.”
“I’m not going to be able to improve,” Blueblood groaned, too upset to be angry with her. He scratched at the bandages swaddling his head, frown deepening. “She hates me now.”
The mare in the room didn’t respond, instead asking a pointed question of her own. “Having gotten a better chance to know her, what do you think?”
“I don’t think! Isn’t it obvious by now!” Shouting made the headache worse, but it made him feel a tiny bit better. “I feel. I feel that she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. I love her and want to make her happy. And I feel like such an idiot. You were right, my big, flankhole mouth screwed things up for me. I didn’t think then, and I’m not thinking now because I just biffed myself over the head and IT HURTS TO THINK!”
“So you’re sorry for what you said?” She pressed.
“Well, YEAH!”
Rarity wasn’t letting up. “What would you say to her if she was here?”
“Rarity, I’m getting sick of these 20 questions,” he growled. “I’d say I’m sorry for being a jerk and I love her and I wanna try again with her. Can you go now?!!”
She obligingly stood up. She had a weird look of triumph on her face. Not the smug smirk she got when scoring one on Blueblood, but a look of supreme personal pride. She strode out the door, nose raised high. She paused to whisper to a pony to the side of the door before stepping out of sight.
And in walked Ditzy.
The shy, hopeful smile on her face said that she heard the whole thing.
Blueblood flinched a little, then blinked. This was too big of a coincidence. He had just been played like a fiddle.
And he was extremely grateful to the one responsible.
“Rarity set you up to this, didn’t she?” He had a small, self-effacing smile on his face.
Ditzy pawed at the ground nervously. “Umm…I’m not good with words, and I didn’t know if you were still mad. So Rarity said she’d talk to you and I could listen.”
“Umm…I really like you too.”
They both stuttered for a few seconds. They would speak at the same time, then pause to allow the other to finish, then try again at the same time.
“Hang on a sec,” Blueblood asked. His horn glowed and the door to his room slammed shut. He was pretty sure he heard Rarity go ‘phooey,’ from the other side.
He nodded, having finally achieved a bit privacy. “Now then. Ditzy, I...I know you heard it while I was talking to Rarity, but I want to say it to you. I’m sorry. I have a way of screwing things up.”
She giggled a little – softly, but it was genuine. “Me too.”
Well…that’s at least one thing we have in common.
“I wanna make this work!” Blueblood said abruptly. He seemed to do better when he didn’t give himself time to second-guess himself. At least when it came to the good things.
“I wanna go out again,” he continued. The impulse was fading, and he was turning a bright crimson. “And I don’t care what happens, I just wanna see…”
He caught Ditzy’s gaze – a mistake. He self-consciously finished the thought, slowing down and quieting until he could barely be heard. “S-see…you…again…happy…”
The words were finished by a vague, high-pitched mewl more commonly associated with a certain yellow pegasus.
Ditzy smiled benignly and nodded. “I want to go out again, too.”
“Canterlot!” Blueblood shouted abruptly again, and maybe this time he should have thought about it more carefully. “I’ll take you to a Canterlot ball! How does that sound?!”
“Superiffic!” She squealed, also missing the implications. “Tell me when and where, okay?”
“I’ll take care of everything! You’ll be like a princess!” Lost in their enthusiasm, the two embraced. Ditzy gave him a quick peck on the cheek and headed out, pausing for a final wave.
------
Dear Diary,
Today I went on my first date with Ditzy. It was…special.
I hit my head. And I invited her to Canterlot, home of the arrogant, the judgmental, and the shallow. The two events may be related.
Do I even need to describe the level of disaster I just set myself up for?
And this is the all-important second date, no less.
I’ll ask Aunt Celly. She’ll know what to doNO! I NEED TO STOP RELYING ON HER!
I think I’ll ask Rarity for her advice
I’m doomed.
Chapter 7: You can Pick Your Friends...
From the time Ditzy left to his discharge from the hospital the next day, Blueblood didn’t see a familiar face. The hours alone gave him a long time to stew on the disaster he just set himself up for.
Ditzy in Canterlot. The imagination boggles.
His head drooped low as he wandered outside, mind running in circles. He could cancel. He wanted to cancel, and stick with some nice, safe lunches in Ponyville. But a niggling feeling in his head figured that would be an even worse idea than going through with it. Ditzy would think he was embarrassed of her. She’d shown that she was a little delicate emotionally, and a cancelation would widen the rift between them. Would she want to keep seeing him if he kept making her feel inferior? Blueblood knew he wouldn’t.
But if he was so worried about her feelings, why would he take her to Canterlot? Sure, most of his peers would probably just sneer into their hooves and leave her alone. But all it would take is one spat of mean-spirited humor to ruin the whole evening. Then Ditzy will feel she’s just an embarrassment to Blueblood and he’s better off without her…
The two cases swirled in his head. Both seemed to end poorly, so what would he do?
His despondent wanderings brought him to a schoolyard at the edge of town. He sat down on one of the swings, eyes cast to the dusty ground below. Tell Ditzy that he couldn’t bring her to Canterlot? Or bring her and let the lemming-wolves tear into her? There was no third option, not unless he disappeared and never saw her again. That would be a little too low, even for him.
Lost in his thoughts, Blueblood didn’t notice the other pony walk up to him. He didn’t even notice when she said something, so she coughed and spoke a little louder.
“Mister? Are you waiting for somepony to push you?”
He blinked, mind returning to the present. It was a little schoolfoal, a light purple unicorn with a curious look on her face.
Blueblood smiled a little – he probably made a silly sight, sitting on a swing built for ponies a quarter of his size. “I think you’re a little small to give me a good push.”
“I can use magic. Duh.” She stuck out her tongue and giggled.
Kid’s got wit, Blueblood thought, not disapprovingly. He shook his head. “No thanks, I’m fine.”
The filly climbed up to the swing next to him. “You don’t look fine. Are you worried about somepony?”
Blueblood blinked and looked right at her, eyebrows raised. “Lucky guess! How’d you know?”
“You look worried.” She shrugged, child-like logic leading her directly to the right answer. “Mommy says you should only worry about other ponies, because worrying over little things like grades and money and stuff is just wasting your worry. You look like a smart pony, so I figured you know that.”
Blueblood reached over and gave her a little push, swinging her seat forward a couple feet. “Your mommy’s a very smart pony.”
The filly obligingly kicked once or twice, sending the swing back and forth a few times before realizing the stallion next to her wasn’t following suit. She glanced to the side, seeing his frowning gaze once more cast to the dirt.
“So what’cha worried about?” She asked without hesitation, letting her swing glide to a stop.
“It’s an adult pony thing,” he said blandly.
“Is it about your marefriend?”
Once more Blueblood’s head snapped to the side. A small, self-effacing smile graced his face. “Okay, how did you guess this time?”
She tilted her head to the side, grinning like a student who just nailed a hard question. “Easy. My earlier question established that it’s a pony, and you just said it’s an adult thing. Putting the two together, ‘marefriend’ is a logical guess.”
“Sharp as a tack, kid.” He reached over and ruffled her hair. “You’re spot on.”
The filly frowned, pulling her head away. “I don’t get it. It’s all about spending time with a pony you really like, right? Your special somepony? Isn’t something like that supposed to make you happy?”
“It’s…” Blueblood tossed his head back and forth, finally settling on the lamest answer possible. “Complicated.”
“’Sharp as a tack,’ remember?” The filly smiled benignly at him. She reached over to push him, but only succeeded in pushing herself backwards. “Mommy said I should always try to help other ponies who are feeling down.”
“Well far be it from me to defy a mother’s advice.” Blueblood took a deep breath and gave tight little smile. “But it’s not something with an easy solution. I’m a Canterlot noble, she’s a pegasus with a lot of…personality traits that make her an easy target for bullies. In a spur of the moment thing, I asked her to come to Canterlot for a ball there. Now, noble society is a touch cut-throat to begin with – somepony like her would stand out in the worst kind of way. Some prince-this or damsel-that will have their way with her feelings. But if I cancel, she’ll know I just did it to shield her and she’ll feel just as bad. So I’m stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, so to speak.”
It felt good to let it out, maybe even better to do it to some kid who had nothing to do with the whole thing. She had kept kicking back and forth on the swing. Blueblood initially thought he had lost her, until he saw the intense look of concentration on the little unicorn’s face.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little pessimistic?” She said, swinging at a slow, even pace. “There are a few bad ponies out there, but most of them are good. Most of the bad ones are good inside, too, they’re just bad at showing it.”
“Bad at showing how good you are inside,” Blueblood murmured. The words struck closer to home than he liked to admit. He considered himself a good pony – didn’t everypony? But however many bits he sent to his charity, did any of that make him a good pony? He was smart, but that razor-wit usually found itself cutting into others. For years he told himself that he did it just to keep his distance from the nobles who annoyed him and the mares who pursued him. But Rarity had raised a good point: had that pink pony been chasing his bits when he insulted her? Wasn’t Rarity just trying to help him when he tripped her? What about Ditzy? Was there any possible justification in the whole wide world for his curt insult?
Being a flankhole was just…natural for him. He didn’t like it, but how do you change your personality?
“I’m bad at it.”
“Bad at what?” The filly asked.
Blueblood shook his head, yanking himself back to reality. “Sorry, I…I’m one of those ponies you mentioned. I’m kind of…bad, even though I try to be good. Usually.”
“Well that mare is giving you a chance to be good,” she spoke with childlike certainty. “Maybe you can do the same for the ponies around you. You won’t see them be nice if you never give them a chance.”
She giggled. “And besides, Mommy always said that it’s okay to be afraid of failing, but you should never let that fear stop you from going for your dreams.”
“Your mother’s a veritable font of wisdom.” Blueblood stood up from the swing, feeling a lot lighter for the conversation. It’s not like the problem was solved or anything. But it felt a lot…simpler. Both options could lead to disaster. Taking Ditzy to Canterlot, however…could lead to something a lot better. Something that a refusal to try would never give him: a magical, wonderful evening.
Ditzy would be a princess, just like she deserved. Hopefully.
He turned to the little filly and gave the most regal bow he could manage in the rumpled black suit. “Thank you for your advice, my lady. I am Prince Blueblood of the Royal Line of Blue, at your service.”
The girl giggled furiously, face turning beet-red as he took her hoof and kissed it. “I’m Dinky! Good luck! And come visit when you come back to Ponyville!”
Blueblood nodded and turned away. He began making his way to the train station, wondering if there’d be a seat on the night line he could take.
“Of the Royal Line of Blue…” he mused, recalling the formal introduction. He gave a little smile and eye-roll. “Now if only I could be that smooth with Ditzy.”
Ditzy…wait a sec, the kid’s name was Dinky. Didn’t I hear that before?
Right, from Rarity. Dinky is Ditzy’s…
He stopped in his tracks. Daughter.
Blueblood turned his head by instinct, but by this time he was several blocks from the school grounds. With a shrug and another self-effacing smile, he continued on his way.
“All that ‘Mommy said’ business…heh, Ditzy’s plenty smart in her own way.”
------
Dear Diary,
On the train back from Ponyville.
Kind of a weird thing happened on the way out. Well, two weird things, but let me talk about the second one. Somepony caught up with me while I was waiting for the 7 o’clock express to head out. It was already 9:30, but you know. Trains.
It was Rarity, my friend.
(And yes, it does feel weird writing that)
(‘Friend-ish,’ anyway)
It started very oddly. She had this weird smile on her face as she levitated a program for the Sapphire Ball before my eyes. I guessed this was somehow relevant, but only one thing came to mind: I invited Ditzy to a ball, and here Rarity was giving a suggestion.
Coincidence? I think not.
“I seem to recall closing the door when I asked her,” I grumbled. “Does your snooping know no bounds?”
She gave that nervous laugh of hers and mentioned that hospitals have thin doors. ‘Friend-ish’ indeed.
I asked her why this was a better option than any other, and it was a fair question. The Sapphire Ball is just another one of those parties I tend to avoid unless socially expected. There’s nothing special about it.
“Oh Blueblood – you’re clueless without other ponies helping you out,” Rarity said. It was a bit of a zing, but I had gotten used to it by now.
“Shining Armor and Princess Cadence,” she announced, as if that explained everything.
I feel silly about it now, but I had no idea what she was talking about. There are a lot of Canterlot ponies who annoy me, and those two are close to the top of the list. Goody Two-Hooves Soldier Boy has never spoken to me except to give reprimands for being mean to gold-digging floozies. And my cousin, Cadence? Talk about goody FOUR-hooves, always so darn superior and all ‘look at me! My genes lines up in so perfect a way to be born an alicorn! I’m better than you!’
(Okay, she never actually mentioned anything about being better than other ponies. But I’m sure she thinks it all the time)
Anyway, I must’ve said something as witty as it was insulting, because Rarity promptly slapped me with the program. “Shut up and listen, Darling. I have it on good authority that Shining Armor plans to propose to the princess at the Sapphire Ball.”
“Poor idiot,” I said. (Naturally. Can you imagine what it’d be like having a relationship with somepony multiple steps up the social ladder from you?)
…Hm…I think I just zinged myself.
Ouch.
Moving on.
Rarity didn’t need any prompting to explain herself. “Don’t you see? This is the perfect one to take Ditzy to. All the regality, the class, the food and the atmosphere! Canterlot at its finest! You’ll impress the hooves off of Ditzy! And the other ponies will be abuzz about Shining and Cadence instead! It’s an open secret that he’ll propose…but oh, WILL he? Everypony will be watching the pair-“
“-Making it REALLY awkward for them…” I noted.
“…And not paying any attention to you!” Rarity continued without missing a beat. “Blueblood has an unusual marefriend, whatever, but nopony will care about that with the proposal of the CENTURY in the making! They’ll be too scared to miss it to bother with you two!”
Rarity had REALLY thought this out. I should be nicer to her.
“But the real cincher is what comes after. Ponies will know you have a low-born pegasus marefriend who is…a bit different. But because you already made an appearance, it’ll be old news! A week from then, nopony will care! Bringing Ditzy will make a splash, Darling, so the trick is to hide it in a bigger splash. It’s like when a decent movie bombs because it aired at the same time as a massive one. Only we very much want your…eheh, ‘romantic comedy,’ to be overshadowed by Shining’s proposal.”
I had to admit, it was kind of ingenious. I even said so to her face.
(Was that the first time I complimented her? I think so.)
Then she got that sly look to her eyes that immediately sets me on guard. “Of co~ourse it’ll help to have a wingpony. Somepony to divert attention away from you, and make sure the attention that does fall on you is positive.”
Her grin grew wider and more strained as I pretended not to take the hint. Finally, she just came out and said it. “I’m sure you’ll agree it’s in both our interests for you to make sure an invitation reaches my hooves.”
“I’ll get you six. Bring your friends.”
(Which would’ve been HILARIOUS)
Rarity shook her head. “Darling, just once I’d like a trip to Canterlot to not end in stampeding squirrels or hurled croquet mallets. Just one ticket will do.”
Fair enough. The plan seems…well, better than anything I could’ve come up with. Hat’s off to you, Rarity.
------
Dear Diary,
Fun times at the Grapevine Pub.
At least, if your definition of fun is getting pummeled in a barroom brawl.
So first thing’s first: I had 90% made up my mind to invite Ditzy to the Sapphire Ball, but I wanted to get one more set of opinions. I didn’t ask Aunt Celly or Fancy Pants; somehow, I know what they’d say. They’d give me all sorts of optimism without really confronting the issues at hoof. I’m not looking for reassurances that everything will be fine. I’m looking for practical plans to shield Ditzy from the massive social stigma she’ll be facing. Like what Rarity offered me, with the whole “Use Shining Prick’s proposal as a distraction” thing.
My friends at the E.E. were pretty obvious ponies to go to for the perfect blend of practical advice and good intentions. I figured they’d be supportive, as well as realistic to the problem I was facing.
I wasn’t wrong. When I broached the subject during our Friday get-together, they listened with uncharacteristic seriousness. Helperton acted about as I expected, giving me his studious attention and a quiet smile. Star Gazer somehow went through the evening without making any ‘buck’ puns, a fact for which I am heartily grateful.
I didn’t mind confiding that I wasn’t really sure where our relationship could go. I mean, a Canterlot prince and a country pegasus?
You know what they said? “Love doesn’t care.”
We come from totally different worlds.
“Love doesn’t care.”
She’s got a kid. She’s probably several years older than me.
“Love doesn’t care.”
This could be the end of my life as I know it. No more commitment-free living. No more ability to just do what I want when I want to.
“Love doesn’t care.”
And you know what? It doesn’t. I love Ditzy, and I don’t care what else happens so long as I can make her happy.
I sorta DID drop her name, which led to the aforementioned event. Star Gazer had met her while we were in Ponyville together, and she doesn’t exactly give the best first impressions.
When he heard her name, he paused, wondering where he heard it before. Then his eyes widened as her recalled the odd pegasus who hugged me at breakfast.
As his mind made the mental connections, he very rapidly moved a hoof to his face to conceal the smirk.
He noticed that I noticed, and made a lame joke at my expense. “Wow, Blues. I, uh, I didn’t know you were into that type of pony.”
“Uh, by ‘that type’ I mean pegasi!” He quickly corrected.
Like. He. Was. Fooling. Anypony.
Let’s just say that the aura of good feelings we had built up came to a crashing end. These are my FRIENDS, and I still get jibed for it. We joke around a lot, sure, but now he was making cracks at Ditzy’s expense. There was a line, he crossed it, and I was mad as Tartarus.
So I sort of popped him one. Right hoof to the side of his face. It was really more of a slap than a punch (give me a break, I’m a dandy).
Now what he should’ve done was realized he touched a sensitive issue and apologized. But he grinned instead, maybe not realizing how serious I was. “You hit like a filly, Blues.”
Maybe I do have a tiny bit of chivalry in me, because for insulting my Lady (Yes, MY. LADY.), I was gonna make sure I hurt him.
So I used my magic to yank the chair out from somepony and biffed Star Gazer across the face with it. That smug look disappeared as he hit the floor.
Which created kind of a problem. I guess there’s some kind of tavern etiquette that dictates when one pony attacks another on the premise, every other pony should immediately lose their minds and begin pummeling each other.
In my defense, I didn’t know that.
With a roar that I would never believe him capable of, the quiet, genial Helperton immediately launched himself at me. His head connected with my chest, sending me sailing into the air. I collided with a pegasus in a cheap suit, who immediately reared back to stomp me while I was dazed. A rough looking unicorn mare bucked him out of the way, then levitated a table leg and got one good hit on me before Star Gazer shouldered her into a wall.
Maybe he felt guilty about his words, because he kept the brawl at bay while I staggered to my hooves. I think him and I generally fought on the same side, but it was pretty chaotic. I’m a rookie to the art of brawling, but I did okay for my first time.
Basically, though, I got the crud kicked out of me
I got a few bumps and bruises, but you should’ve seen the other ponies. I must’ve knocked out, like, twelve of them before the police showed up.
It was kind of fun, actually.
Yours,
Blueblood
------
Awkwardly, Blueblood and Star Gazer had been deposited in the same jail cell. They kept their gazes firmly away from each other, fidgeting in the silence.
After a long few minutes, Star Gazer gently punched his friend on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’m sorrier,” Star Gazer insisted. “You’re gonna get a lot of rotten apples chucked at you for dating this girl, but you shouldn’t get them from a pony whose supposed to be your friend. I was just trying to be funny, you know? Had a couple hard ciders in me, felt like pushing the envelope, ended up being the biggest idiot in the bar. Not gonna happen again. Somepony else talks down about your girl and you start a fight, I’m backing you up all the way.”
Blueblood gave a slight smile back. “Thanks, Star.”
The two shared a solid brohoof and settled into a much more amicable silence.
Which, amicable or not…got really old, really fast in the featureless cell. The pair’s eyes moved around their surroundings, not that there was anything interesting to see. Stone walls. Iron bars. A bench that kept vibrating as Star Gazer kicked his leg in bored rhythm. Equestria’s lenient prison system ensured clean cells, but no law said they had to be interesting.
Naturally, Star Gazer was the first to break the silence. “So, didn’t you just give that cop a check for your bail? Shouldn’t you be gone?”
“He said they’d validate the signature at the palace,” Blueblood shrugged. “It’s almost as if they don’t believe I’m Prince Blueblood.”
He rubbed a black eye, wincing as he felt along the edge of the bruise. They both looked like they had gone a round with a manticore. “And I wrote for everypony’s bail. Figured so long as I was writing a check, might as well make it big and do my good deed for the day.”
“Ah, the luxuries of the rich,” Star Gazer grinned, though quickly broke off there. He wasn’t looking for a second fight in one night.
The conversation petered out once more. Both stallions descended once more into boredom, this time for several hours before one of the officers stepped into view. The blue unicorn levitated up a set of keys and unlocked their cell.
“You got lucky,” she said, gesturing for them to exit. “The palace is pretty dead at night, but one of your aunts was on hoof to verify your identity.”
“’One’ of my aunts?” Blueblood repeated in confusion as he stepped out. “Who do I have besides Celesti…ah…”
Blueblood froze just outside the door, forcing Star Gazer to squeeze past him. There, standing in the hallway, was Princess Luna.
And yep, she had heard him.
She didn’t look angry, which surprised the young prince. Annoyed, maybe, but nothing worse.
As per his usual, when confronted with an odd situation, Blueblood managed to come out with the worst possible thing to say.
“Whoa, crud, I forgot about you.”
She didn’t get angry then, either. Even the look of annoyance passed from her face, replaced with a resigned frown.
Luna gave a sigh. “Hm. Well, you’re not the first.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Blueblood coughed loudly, rapidly (and poorly) trying to change the subject. “Wow, heh, you’ve really grown up since last I saw you. It’s been a while. You know, the whole ‘I sleep at night’ thing…”
And now her face became impassive. He trailed off weakly, stuttering a few lines before trying another topic. “So…how did Nightmare Night go? I was never big on it – all that candy would go right to my hips, you know? But, uh…you know, er…”
The impassive stare went on. Star Gazer and the policemare shared a glance and took a step away from the princess.
Sweating nervously, Blueblood made one last effort to lighten the mood. “Your…your hair came in nicely. You’ve really got the whole ‘alicorn translucent floaty hair’ thingy down pat.”
“Alicorn. Translucent.” Luna spoke for the first time since his pathetic sequence of dodges began.
“Floaty,” she continued, putting extra emphasis on the improper words. “Hair. Thingy.”
Luna closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly for several seconds, then exhaled at the same speed.
Her eyes snapped open, taking the appearance of brilliant white orbs.
“WHAT ART THOU THINKING, THOU DISGRACE TO THINE TITLE!” She roared. The concrete hallways vibrated with the sound, and its echo sped along the walls. Blueblood stood petrified, somehow managing to get paler. Star Gazer and the policemare dove behind him, clutching each other in fear.
Luna continued, still shouting, but at least not unnaturally loud. “We came here to determine what vagabond did sign our beloved nephew’s name to that check! And now we have found our nephew himself, fresh from an evening of drunkenness, brawling, and debauchery!”
Blueblood blinked. “What’s ‘debauchery?’”
“WE WILL TELL THEE WHEN THOU ART OLDER!” Once more her voice hit them like a thunderclap. It was probably just their imagination, but Luna seemed to grow, looming over the terrified trio. The policemare squeezed Star Gazer tighter, who wasn’t so far terrified that he couldn’t enjoy it a bit. “NOW EXPLAIN THYSELF!”
“Okay, OKAY!” Blueblood threw up his hooves in surrender. “I’m dating this commoner mare, okay? She’s clumsy and she’s got funny eyes, so somepony made fun of her. I hit that pony, and the big fight started from there.”
“WELL...”
Luna tilted her head to the side and blinked, her eyes returning to normal. She seemed to shrink back to her usual size.
“Hm,” she said, in so normal-sounding a voice it caught Blueblood off-guard. “That wasn’t what we…I…was expecting. You sticking up for a vulnerable pony…that’s very chivalrous of you.”
She shuffled her hooves and glanced down. Blueblood couldn’t stop a smile coming to him – grown up though she was, Luna still could pull off ‘adorable’ without a hitch. At least when she wasn’t being terrifying.
Speaking of which, in the space of an instant Luna’s eyes glowed and voice boomed again. “NOW TELL US THE NAME OF THIS NE’R-DO-WELL WHO DIDS’T WRONGLY INSULT THINE LADY! SUCH MEANNESS SHALL NOT BE TOLERATED IN THIS KINGDOM!”
Star Gazer swallowed, all enjoyment of the hug vanishing instantly. He probably had seconds to live.
“I didn’t catch the name!” Blueblood frantically waved her down.
“I love you, Dude,” Star Gazer whispered hoarsely in his ear.
Once more, the Dark Princess of the Night deflated into just ‘Luna.’ She still regarded her nephew imperiously, stern frown etched into her face. “That aside, we do have much to discuss. Slipping out of the palace. Going tavern-trawling. Committing violence against your fellow ponies, regardless of justification. There are rumors about you too, Blueblood. You’ve been making a habit of sneaking out, and you seem to spend a lot more money than your material possessions would indicate.”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Blueblood gave her a confident grin. “I cleared it all with Aunt Celly.”
There was a brief silence, as Luna seemed to consider his words.
“She’s not here right now.” With the barest glow of her horn, Luna hoisted Blueblood off his hooves and held him suspended within a sphere of blue magic.
“We need to talk about these secrets of yours,” Luna announced. She turned and began striding out, magically pulling Blueblood behind her like floating cargo.
“Come on, can’t you just ask Aunt Celly?” Blueblood felt his face flush as they exited the building. Not many ponies were out at night, but those who were stared after them. It wasn’t very often they saw one of their sovereigns dragging along a member of the ruling class.
“I’d rather hear the story from you,” Luna said primly. “Consider this to be family bonding time.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Blueblood huffed. He crossed his forehooves and pouted. The weightlessness inside Luna’s magic sphere caused him to slowly rotate upside-down.
Luna raised her nose up high. “It was not a request.”
And she carried him off into the night.
Chapter 8: The Princess of Ponyville
“This family bonding hath proven most fulfilling!” Luna grinned as she studied the half-dozen puzzle pieces floating before her. “Thou art good at this. Art thou…you certain you have not done this before with your own mother?”
Her nephew gave a derisive snort and cast his glance around the scene. Blueblood and Luna were sprawled across the floor of the Royal Parlor, a mostly-finished puzzle sitting between them. He was on his back, idly trying to fit together two pieces levitating above him.
The prince raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Lounging about on the carpet? She’d be too worried about wrinkling her dress to ever do anything like this. And she certainly wouldn’t let ME do it, either – ‘too undignified’ and all that. Especially at five in the morning.”
He ended the last statement with a yawn. It had been a long night, and it certainly started unpleasantly. Luna had grilled him for hours, and her sharp mind readily sifted through the half-truths and dodges he deployed. It was with mild embarrassment that Blueblood told of his ‘night life’ with the Egalitarian Equestrians and the odd relationship he had with Ditzy.
The conversation had grown friendlier afterwards. Understandably, Luna was surprised that the topic he was so evasive about was that he was a much BETTER pony than most would guess. Why make a secret of it?
“It’s not really a secret secret,” Blueblood had grumbled. “It’s just nopony else’s business. I don’t want ponies to think I’m some soft-hearted do-well who gallivants about, doing good deeds whilst incognito.”
Luna giggled at that. “But you ARE a soft-hearted do-well who gallivan-“
“Yes, yes, I get it!” Blueblood groaned. “The thing is, I’m also a flankhole. If any pony comes to me expecting to meet some kind of hero, they’re going to be sorely disappointed. Besides, like I said: it’s none of their business. I don’t need strangers’ approval or anything like that. My aunts know, Ditzy knows, my close friends know, and that’s enough for me. Everypony else can go buck themsel-“
“Nephew!” Luna had shot in a warning tone.
That conversation led to Luna quizzing him of the few noble ponies he did let into his life – Fancy Pants, and to a much lesser extent Noble Heart and Fleur De Lis. He mentioned he played cards with Fancy Pants, which caused Luna to ask him to teach her how to play. Playing cards led to billiards and darts, then, with Blueblood’s energy wearing down, to their 500-piece jigsaw puzzle in the parlor.
Blueblood gave a little grin as the two pieces fit together, and he quickly lowered them to connect to the larger picture. It was an image of three pegasi on a cloudy day – the ponies had come together easily, the sky was taking much longer.
Luna gave a yawn of her own - she was nocturnal, but the night was waning fast. With her careful magic, another small piece of sky came together and fit above a pegasus. She smiled again, taking pride in the tiny accomplishment. “Your mother doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. She…”
The princess hesitated, then went on. “She doesn’t know about Ditzy, does she?”
Blueblood groaned. “No. That conversation’s getting put off as long as possible.”
Luna smile softened. She reached a hoof over and brushed it gently against Blueblood’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”
“Hm? Maybe.” Blueblood yawned again, resting his head against the carpet. “I’m not ashamed of Ditzy at all, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve got big plans for my next trip to Ponyville.”
“Oho?” His aunt settled back, looking up at the unadorned ceiling.
“Yep.” Blueblood mumbled. “Everypony’s gonna know about us. It’s gonna be awesome.”
Lune beamed – in the brief time that she’s known him, Blueblood had never sounded so confident. It might be just the sleep deprivation, though.
“Keep your heart up, Nephew. Even if no pony supports you in this, I will.”
She glanced over, but no response was forthcoming. Blueblood had fallen asleep on his back. Luna gave a quiet laugh at his position – with his hooves curled up, it looked for all that world like he was expecting a belly rub.
Luna stepped over, smiling beatifically over his sleeping form. A millennia ago she shunned friendship, fearing the inevitable death that followed. Celestia had always disagreed, telling her that it was worth it.
”There is pain and parting, Luna. I won’t deny that. But the memories you create with those ponies are something you can hug closely to you during your long journey. Eternal life can be paradise, my little sister. A prance of happy memories being created every day. Or…it can just be a very, very long time.”
Now, looking down at this mortal unicorn – with his bad attitude and good heart – Luna was finally starting to see what her older sister was talking about.
She leaned down and kissed his cheek, eyes blurred with the faintest of tears.
As an alicorn, she had no one to pray to. But still she whispered, “Please bring him happiness.”
The moon was setting. Her room awaited her. Today, though, Princess Luna lay down next to her nephew, a worn rug as their only pillow.
------
It was a Perfectly Ordinary Day in Ponyville™. So ordinary it was downright dull, and as the sun waned in the sky, the town’s warier residents grew nervous. Existing on the border of the Everfree Forrest and populated by a host of eccentric characters, it had long-since been expected that no day would be ordinary. Today, though, there were no holidays. No pegasi crashed into anything, no magic experiments went awry, and no monsters emerged from the woods. No pony was late for anything, no pony had any cause to scream or get angry. Nothing had happened. It was Perfectly Ordinary.
In short, it was days like these that parasprites invaded or the town was consumed with Chaos or some other disaster occurred. Ponies shuffled about nervously, watching the sun go down. Was it possible that the day would end in a perfectly ordinary fashion? No, not in this town. Something had to happen, and they could only hope it was harmless. One pony nervously joked that they should fake an argument, just so the day wouldn’t be perfectly ordinary. Nopony took her up on the offer – reality wouldn’t be so easily fooled. Something was going to happen, and soon.
In such a setting, it is little surprise that many ponies breathed a sigh of relief as a golden chariot flew into town. A royal visit was something they could handle far better than some of the other things that could’ve happened.
Word quickly spread – a royal visit that wasn’t Celestia? She had visited often enough that her arrival wouldn’t raise too many heads. But this was one of the unicorn royals, highest of the Canterlot elite. They rarely left the capital, and had certainly never visited Ponyville.
Blueblood frowned a little as he stepped out of the chariot, eyeing the growing crowd. He had planned on witnesses, sure, but all these ponies were starting to make him a little self-conscious. Especially since they were all staring right at him.
It made him remember something Star Gazer once said…”When all eyes are on you, wink.”
Blueblood popped open the top button on his white suit and did just that, throwing in a confident grin for good measure. Several mares blushed. A bespectacled one in a grey mane swooned.
“It’s Prince Blueblood…” a pink one whispered in awe.
He groaned internally. Oh, not this schtick again.
Wait…HA! I’ve got a marefriend! These fillies can suck lemons!
One of his drivers sprinkled a little water on his hair for him to flip back, making him briefly glitter in the setting sun. He strode regally forward, nose raised. The crowd leaned forward, wondering what the reclusive noble had to say.
And Blueblood strode past them without a second glance.
------
They had followed him, of course. If anything, his standoffishness only increased their curiosity.
The crowd was murmuring incessantly, spreading rumors and speculating as to his purpose. Every pony had something to say, some theory as to why this stranger had come. And every pony compared their theory with others’, debating and wondering aloud.
Except for Rarity. She stood at the front of the crowd with a strong smile on her face, proud and pleased.
Blueblood passed by the Food in Hoof Café. He turned down the next street and walked on forward. He passed a few houses, then turned down the walkway of a small brown cottage.
Ditzy’s house.
The crowd’s murmur stopped abruptly. Aside from Rarity, every mouth hung open in shock.
Blueblood rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, the knob turned and a tiny blonde unicorn opened the door.
The prince leaned down to put his face on level with hers. “Hello, Dinky. Is your mommy home?”
For whatever reason, Dinky didn’t seem surprised to see him. She smiled and bobbed her head once. “Yup! Let me get her.”
Dinky left the door open as she scurried back inside. Blueblood sent a sly glance to the side, eyeing the crowd. Rarity was still beaming – her Apple family friend was asking her why she looked so thrilled, but the rest were still in shock. A few girls were sobbing as they watched their fantasy stallion visit a different mare. Most just had twitching eyes with tiny pupils. A Prince? And DITZY?
And why not? He thought to himself. He tried to feel indignant, but to be honest, he was kind of enjoying the reaction. He was going to turn Canterlot upside-down, so why not start with Ponyville? They gotta learn that he’s not some prize to be won. Not at the Gala, and definitely not now.
“Blueblood?”
A quiet voice from inside brought his attention back to the door. A pair of yellow eyes peeped out, one looking at Blueblood, the other eyeing the crowd beyond.
“Lady Ditzy,” he announced loudly, making sure everypony could hear.
She poked her head out a little more, looking a little bashful and really. Darn. Cute. Blueblood felt himself blush, and the carefully-rehearsed lines vanished from his head.
He stumbled for a second, but quickly rallied. With a quick shake of the head, his thoughts cleared and his regal posture resumed. Prince Blueblood knelt before Ditzy, like any knight before his lady. He lifted her hoof with his own, looking up at her.
Ditzy’s blush had reached her ears now. One eye kept twitching from the crowd to the sky, while the other stayed fixed on Blueblood.
With the moment here at last, Blueblood was in the zone. He smiled gently up at her.
“The Sapphire Ball will be held at the Royal Palace on the first of next month. I would be greatly honored if you would accompany me there as my date.”
Dizty blinked and swallowed. She hesitated just long enough to make Blueblood nervous.
Then…”YES!”
That wonderful, white grin broke through the blushing face and she stepped forward to hug him. She tripped on the doorframe and slammed into him harder than expected, but it was all good. There’s nothing wrong with hugging the ones you love a little too hard. Blueblood leaned up and hugged her back with his forehooves.
Silence reigned over the crowd.
Then, from the front, a single pair of hooves stamped the ground in wild applause. Rarity had a triumphant grin on her face as she clapped, heedless of the odd looks other ponies were giving her.
Her stomps were joined by a light tapping from inside the house. Dinky was standing in the doorway, giving the hardwood floor more than a few scuffs as she applauded, smiling from ear to ear.
A yellow mare with orange hair joined in the noisemaking. Slowly, and a bit awkwardly, the rest of the crowd joined in. A few mares were still clearly upset, miffed that their dreams of princely courtship were dashed by Derpy of all ponies. Some were thrilled – love was in the air, and no further explanation was needed. Most were still confused, but even the most befuddled amongst them could manage a smile for Ditzy. The “town clown” had given other ponies plenty of headaches over the years, but no pony had it in them to genuinely wish her ill.
Both lovebirds blushed fiercely with the attention. They drew away from each other then crossed their necks – a gentler hug. Ditzy stroke her lips against Blueblood’s neck, but that was it. Both of them were private ponies, not big on the idea of kissing in front of everypony.
Kiss or no kiss, though, the feeling was there. The love. The desire. Ditzy scurried back into her house, her wings half-raised of their own accord.
Blueblood swallowed dryly, staring at her flank until the moment the door closed.
He took a deep breath to steady himself. Then he grinned, tossed his mane back again, and turned to head back to the chariot.
The crowd began dispersing – Blueblood obviously wasn’t interested in them, and they could accept that. Some ponies were headed home, others sticking around to gossip.
Rarity wasted no time in moving to walk alongside him, looking immeasurably pleased.
Blueblood glanced away, using his magic to discreetly tuck an invitation into her saddlebag.
“That was very good, Prince.” Rarity spoke softly, eyes forward. “A++ on all counts.”
“Wasn’t it, just!” Blueblood shook his mane and glanced to the side. A gaggle of ponies were talking loudly about the events.
“Ditzy! On the road to being a princess!”
“Of the Blue Family, no less!”
“Derpy, of all ponies…” one mare moaned. “What’s she got, anyway?”
“We’ll probably need a new postmare soon.”
Blueblood’s grin widened, and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. “Listen to them! Yesterday she was comic relief. Derp-Derp-Derpy. The klutz. The dumb one. Now, though? She’s above them all. She’s the one to be jealous of, the one to curry favor with. Ha! Did you see how their eyes were almost twitching in sync?”
Rarity huffed and ‘accidentally’ trod on his hoof, tripping him up. “I didn’t help set this up so you can feel smug for Derpy’s sake, Dear.”
Blueblood stumbled, but his fierce grin never faded. “But it’s a nice side benefit.”
The mare huffed again, and they walked in silence for a few minutes before Blueblood spoke quietly.
“It’s ‘Ditzy,’ you know.”
“Hm?”
“Her name’s Ditzy,” Blueblood said. Now it was his eyes that were fixed ahead. “Don’t call her Derpy.”
“She calls herself that,” Rarity reminded gently.
“When she screws up,” Blueblood responded, soft but firm. “That’s her ‘dumb’ name. Her ‘excuse’ name. The ‘don’t mind me, I’m Derpy’ name. No more of that.”
Rarity accepted the reprimand with grace. She nodded once, then glanced to the side. “Some ponies only know her as ‘Derpy.’ That won’t change quickly.”
Blueblood looked back. The crowd was continuing to disperse, but several were still staring at Ditzy’s house.
“Yeah,” he said with a quieter, kinder smile. “But I’d say we’re off to a good start.”
Chapter 9: A Stallion of Two Natures
Blueblood stared at the stallion in the mirror. If anything, his hair was a touch wilder than usual – an hour trying to make it perfect was fruitlessly spent. The evening hadn’t even begun and already his white suit was sporting a few creases.
He had a headache from brushing his mane so much. “I’ve got to be out of my mind,” he grumbled, once more attacking that strand of hair that always seemed to slide down his ear.
“A Canterlot Ball. Brilliant idea, your highness. What was I thinking? Why not a fancy dinner? Lunch in the park? Bird watching? Why not cake? I’d even go for a gross, crumbly, calorie-laden cake rather than put Ditzy through this.”
With a frustrated groan, he dunked his head in the sink, deciding just to scrap the manestyle and try again. “Insane. Insane! I have got to be insane. Why am I wasting so much time with my stupid mane and stupid clothes anyway? Ditzy’ll probably show up windswept from the chariot ride and buck naked. Then Shining Armor will chide her for not being properly dressed, Cadence will flip out on me for ruining the ball, Prince Charming will hit on her, Prince Luxury will treat her like a zoo animal, and everypony will laugh at us. Rarity will be useless and burn the palace down, which is probably the best thing that can happen!”
A droll, stern voice emerged behind him. “Stop panicking, Dear.”
Blueblood gave a start and turned around, fast enough to make his hair whip out like a flail. The wet mane’s momentum carried it to the side of Rarity’s face, delivering a moist slap that took out about a third of her makeup.
“Rarity?”
She glared steadily at him. Her mane was perfect, her dress regal, and her makeup…
“That’s mostly your fault.” He pulled his mane back and raised his nose. “Who let you in, anyway?”
“The Sapphire Ball is in the palace. You gave me an invitation. The chariot picked us up an hour ago.” Rarity pawed the side of her face a little. The smear of makeup made her look like a zombie, and she had a clear vision of herself in Blueblood’s mirror. She took a sharp breath, for a moment looking like she was going to get angry.
But then she let it out slowly, rolling her eyes. She strode on past Blueblood, making for his closet. “This where you keep your makeup?”
“Uh, yeah, top shelf.” Blueblood blinked. “Okay so…I can see how you got past the guards. But what are you doing in my room?”
“Fixing your hair,” she tutted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Right after I fix my makeup…”
------
Rarity knew her way around a manecut, Blueblood could give her that.
With the Ball drawing closer every minute, Rarity had worked a miracle getting his hair to cooperate. Her own appearance was even easier to fix – her and Blueblood used the same brand of makeup, so a simple touch-up was all that was needed.
Blueblood cringed as he stepped outside the room, seeing the hallway beginning to fill with guests. All the posh and pretty ponies of Canterlot. Top hats, diamond necklaces, tiaras…nothing but class.
“Maybe it’s not too late to cancel,” he mumbled weakly.
Rarity elbowed him in the usual spot on his ribs. “Oh, act like a stallion.”
“Good to see you, Blueblood!” A familiar brown unicorn with a slicked-back mane waved at him. “Is today the day we meet your mystery mare?”
Blueblood swallowed hard – recognition was the last thing he wanted right now. “M-m-maybe, Noble Heart.”
He ignored the bespectacled colt’s warm smile. Noble Heart was always friendly…but what would he say when he met Ditzy?
At Rarity’s insistence, Blueblood followed her to the entrance hall, sweating all the while. “Rarity, could I just get a minute to get myself together?”
“Not necessary, Darling.” With a bit more force than necessary, she opened the door to the waiting room. “Behold, your date! Be amazed!”
“I’ve seen her several times, Rarity, I’m not gonna be amaz-“
He stopped.
It was a VERY different Ditzy that stood before him. Gone was the messy mane, replaced by a smooth, combed look. The long hair was stylized into a single large curl, running tantalizingly down her neck. She had pink blush and red lipstick on – Blueblood had always thought blush was silly, but on Ditzy it had an entirely new effect on him. Her jewelry was subtle and tasteful - tiny gold earrings and matching blue bands for her hair and tail.
All these things made her look refined. The dress made her look sexy. It was black and slimming, sleeveless and with holes cut for her wings and tail. Her back was turned and the fabric…sorta hugged her butt.
And her legs…
“What are those on her legs?” Blueblood whispered, mouth gone dry.
“Garter stockings.” Rarity said with a fierce smile on her face. It didn’t take a genius to know she designed the dress.
“Wow.”
“Thank you.” She whistled and waved. “Yoo-hoo! Dizty!”
Ditzy turned and grinned nervously. She strode shyly up to Blueblood, and a weird tapping sound became audible. It took Blueblood a moment to realize his teeth were chattering.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey, yourself.”
A second of silence. Rarity opened her mouth to break it, but Ditzy beat her to the punch. “Do I look pretty?”
“You always look pretty,” Blueblood said without thinking. Right answer.
They embraced, softly placing their necks together. Blueblood could feel her trembling a little beneath him. He sighed. If he was nervous, how did she feel? She had left everything she knew to come to a strange, cloistered event. She had to feel incredibly self-conscious, for more reasons than one.
This was a bad idea. The thought hit him, not for the first time today. Then, at least I can blame Rarity for it.
“It’s all gonna be great,” Blueblood whispered. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
Ditzy stepped back and smiled up at him. “I don’t wanna embarrass you.”
“I won’t be embarrassed,” Blueblood said confidently, and he fervently, fervently hoped he wasn’t lying.
As they began walking to Sapphire Hall, Blueblood’s mood swung more times than little Dinky had on the swing set. When his attention was on the other guests, his paranoia ramped up to record levels. It seemed everywhere he glanced, there was a pair of eyes on him that quickly looked away when they caught his gaze. Posh unicorns with platinum buttons and jeweled necklaces whispered to each other – they had to be talking about Ditzy. Sometimes their hooves were conveniently hiding their lips. A few were laughing quietly in their little conversations.
In ever laugh he saw a sneer, in every whispered comment he thought he heard an insult aimed at Ditzy. He knew he was just being paranoid, but the knowledge didn’t make him any less so.
And then his attention bounced back to Ditzy. Her mouth was opened in rustic wonder as they entered Sapphire Hall. It was a grand place to see, so long as one enjoyed the color blue. Great sapphire chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Stained-glass windows lined the hall, depicting scenes from Equestrian history entirely in shades of blue. Ditzy was grinning, drinking in sights most ponies go their lives without witnessing.
“Blue carrots?” She giggled, eyeing one of the appetizers. “Maybe they grow in the ocean?”
That innocent, naïve wonder…Blueblood’s heart went out to her, now more than ever. He would do anything to defend Ditzy from the reality he felt certain was poised to attack her. Any of these twit nobles wanted to take a shot at her they’d have to go through him, first.
It was while Blueblood was thinking such thoughts that Noble Heart approached him. “Hi, Prince! I’m glad I could-“
The bespectacled stallion gagged as Blueblood’s magic seized his collar. Blueblood spun him away from the mares and chanced a quick glance back – good, Rarity and Ditzy were admiring the Sapphire Statue together.
He slammed the side of his head against Noble Heart’s, whispering in a low growl. “Alright, four-eyes, listen up. Say one word about Ditzy and I’m snapping off your horn and sticking it in a place where the sun don’t shine.”
“The…basement?” Noble Heart looked nothing but confused.
“No, it’s…ugh, never mind.” Blueblood shook his head, clonking it against the other unicorn’s again. “Look, whatever coy little backhanded remark you had planned for Ditzy, skip it. I’m not gonna let you ruin her evening just so you can have a few seconds of smug superiority.”
Noble Heart blinked. “Wait, what? Blueblood!”
He gave a quick laugh and turned his head to peer at the prince. “I wouldn’t do that!”
“Really?”
“Trust me,” The lesser noble pushed up his glasses and beamed. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
ARE we? Blueblood didn’t see Noble Heart that often, usually when they were putting together the charity auction. It was never better than mediocre, but Noble Heart was always so excited about it. He treated every sale like a great personal victory, and bombarded Blueblood with ideas to make each year a more successful one.
And now he was staring at Blueblood, with a smile that was equal parts clueless and friendly.
“Aren’t we?” Blueblood parroted, still unsure how to answer the question.
Noble Heart cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “Of course! But seriously – you, worried about what other ponies say? What happened to the Blueblood who left mares weeping in his wake? The one who rejects popularity like it’s the plague?”
“It’s…different,” Blueblood sighed. “Ponies can say whatever they want about me. They can say whatever they want to me. But not to Ditzy.”
He swallowed. “I…I want to protect her.”
“From me?” Noble Heart laughed and strode past him. “The pony races were unified a zillion years ago, Blueblood. Nopony will make fun of her just for being a pegasus.”
Blueblood groaned. “Maybe not, but there’s other reasons ponies would mock her.“
“Poppycock, good sir! Here!” Noble Heart abruptly turned past him. “Hello, Rarity! Hello, Madam!”
By the time Ditzy turned, Noble Heart was well within her personal space. Without giving her time to react, he knelt, took her hoof, and gave it a kiss.
“M’Lady, it is an honor to finally meet the apple of Prince Blueblood’s eye.” He gazed up at her, smiling smoothly. “My name is Noble Heart. The pleasure is all mine.”
“I’m Ditzy Doo,” she blushed and beamed back at him. It was great to see her finally relax a little…even though a small part of Blueblood wanted to punch the other stallion.
He straightened and turned to the white mare. “And Rarity! So good to see you again.”
Blueblood smiled, watching the three chat. Okay, Noble Heart and Rarity chatted while Ditzy watched. But she looked comfortable, standing with two ponies who wouldn’t do her wrong. Rarity had doubtless been a torture with her perfectionism, but making Ditzy’s dress did let them bond a little before the Ball. Of all the unicorns for Ditzy to meet here, Noble Heart was a good one to start with. He was young and friendly, and – weirdly – seemed to court Blueblood’s approval. He was a little posh and a little wheedling, but who here wasn’t? The only nicer pony to meet would be-
“Cadence!”
“No, not Cadence,” Blueblood grumbled through gritted teeth as the pink princess entered. Hungry for signs of the rumored proposal, ponies sprinted to prime positions to observe her.
The bad news was that Rarity joined them. Blueblood arched an eyebrow in annoyance, noting that it took all of fifteen minutes for her to forget her offer to be his wingpony. But the good news was that the small cloud of nobles observing Ditzy had run off as well.
Cadence looked a little perturbed with all these ponies pretending not to be watching her. That was a bright spot as well.
Not everypony was jockeying for position around her, though. One second, Blueblood was watching Cadence’s displeasure with just a tiny bit of enjoyment. The next, he was looking into the eyes of another mare he was less-than-thrilled to see.
“Golden Gem,” he said in a bored voice. Yep, she still looked like a dog with that birthmark on her nose.
“Hi, Bluey,” she said, smiling coyly.
“Blueblood,” her date said in greeting, the pair inseparable at the flank. Mane so blonde it was almost white, charming blue eyes, handsomest face in the world…Blueblood’s cousin, Prince Charming.
“Gem,” Blueblood nodded at her, then at the other prince. “Charming. How’s your wife doing?”
Golden Gem winced at that, but Charming only smiled winningly. “Oh, there’s nothing wrong with taking a lovely young mare out for a-“
“Where does she think you are?”
“Trottingham.” Utterly unashamed, Charming winked. “For the next two weeks. But enough about me – HA! Nopony can get enough of me. I could go on about me for hours, but that wouldn’t be very polite. Won’t you introduce me to your own special somepony? I hear she’s…aheh, somepony special.”
Ditzy wandered over, enormous grin still plastered on her face. Meeting a noble or two got her over her trepidation at the worst possible time. “Hi, I’m Ditzy Doo! Are you friends with Blueblood?”
“Friends? Why, we’re practically family!” Charming announced boisterously. He winked broadly at his cousin and went on. “Prince Charming. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Ditzy smiled as he kissed her hoof. “Pleasure to make your ack…kwaitance too.”
There it was. If her race and slow speech didn’t make her a target already, stumbling over hard words certainly did. Blueblood drew in a sharp breath.
The other two hesitated a moment…
“Prince Charming!” a refined voice came over.
“Ah, Fancy Pants! And Fleur, you look beautiful as ever.”
Fancy Pants to the rescue. As usual. I swear, he does this on purpose.
The newcomers occupied Prince Charming, but that left one still unattended. Golden Gem eyed Ditzy as the mare kept taking in the sights. As she turned, witnessing another wondrous blue sculpture, her wing brushed a glass off a tray. The pegasus didn’t even notice the mistake, and disaster was only averted when Prince Luxury saw the fall and snatched it with his magic.
“Well, Bluey.” A half-smile grew on Gem’s face as Ditzy’s staring at the scenery led her to bump into another pony. “You certainly found somepony…’special.’”
Blueblood’s face was deadpan. A single twitch of the eyebrow was the only emotion he showed. And he vowed that if he heard one more ‘special’ pun, he would feel no guilt over the consequences that followed.
“Now I’m not bitter over losing,” she said, and Blueblood resisted the urge to snort. Losing? You weren’t even in the game.
“But are you seriously into…that kind of pony?”
Gloves? Off.
“I’m not terribly discerning,” Blueblood said with a straight face. It always worked better when you delivered it with a straight face. “I’m mostly into mares who aren’t greedy tarts and don’t look like diamond dogs.”
Gem glared at him and huffed. Maybe she was looking for one of those coy ‘veiled insult duels’ and Blueblood crossed the line. Maybe she’d been called a diamond dog before. Even if not, she was probably pretty sensitive about the birthmark on her nose.
Blueblood maintained his deadpan, bored expression and shrugged. Can’t take it? Don’t dish it out.
Her fun ruined, Golden Gem wasted no time in reconnecting her flank with Charming and sauntering off with him.
Now freed of the other prince, Fancy Pants stepped up to Blueblood. “Pleased to see you.”
“Both of you,” he added, nodding toward Ditzy. “So here’s the mare who tamed our Blueblood, eh?”
Seemingly without drawing breath, Fleur raced over to Ditzy making a noise that sounded kind of like EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Ditzy shrank back shyly as the tall unicorn loomed over her. Fleur’s long neck was moving around like a hyperactive swan’s, eyeing the pegasus from every angle.
“Your dress!” Fleur announced giddily, wide grin on her face. “Goodness, Love, it’s marvelous! The red lipstick, the blonde mane, the grey flank and black dress, Oh, C'est Magnifique! It all comes together perfectly!”
Her neck stretched all the way out, Fleur leaned to the side and gave a tiny gasp at the tightness around the flank. “Oh, Love, it’s so risqué! I love it! So seductive! So tantalizing! Great Celestia, you’re so bold!”
“But…Darling…” Fancy Pants shared a shrug with the prince. “You’re…not wearing any clothes at all.”
Blueblood nodded. “Yeah. And, uh, Ditzy usually goes around naked anyway.”
In perfect symmetry, Ditzy and Fleur tilted their heads, staring in incomprehension at the two stallions.
“Boys!” they said in unison, prompting the two to explode in a fit of giggles.
Fleur tossed back her hair. “Despite his name, even my Fancy Pants knows nothing of fashion.”
“Guilty as charged.” Fancy Pants confessed.
Blueblood’s eyes slowly widened as he took in the scene. The two were hitting it off with Ditzy, and he had no idea how it happened.
He eyed Fancy Pants as the fop chatted with the pegasus, not terribly surprised on that count. The monocle-wearing stallion didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. If he could handle Rarity’s crazy friends without so much as a blink, Ditzy would be no great leap.
But Fleur? When Blueblood pictured the shallow, preening twits of Canterlot, hers was the first face that came to mind. He watched the leggy unicorn suspiciously, but there was no sign of the bigotry he had feared. No backhanded compliments or sneers. No knowing glances to other ponies, not even the ‘wow, I’m talking to an idiot’ pause most ponies have the first time they hear Ditzy speak. Nothing like that, just Fleur doing 95% of the talking with 0% of the intelligence, as usual. Dress fashions and manestyles and…hooficure trends or something. He never managed to pay attention to her for more than a few seconds.
Much as she always made him want to rip his ears off…she was treating Ditzy exactly the same way she treated other ponies. That was as heartening as it was surprising.
Fancy Pants took note of the undisguised surprise and quietly withdrew to Blueblood’s side.
“Don’t be so scared of other ponies,” he muttered softly. “They’re better than you think.”
“Fleur’s better than I thought,” Blueblood conceded, tone still guarded. “Noble Heart’s better than I thought. You’re…well, you’ve always been Sir Perfect. That’s three. But what about all those other ponies?”
“Like Rarity?” Fancy countered with a disarming smile.
Blueblood grunted. “Four. That’s four. What about the rest?”
“Only way to find out is to meet them.” Fancy rejoined the conversation, waving over a few acquaintances to introduce to Ditzy. Lady Sapphire welcomed the pegasus to her ball, then proceeded to wail about her wayward daughter. Regality distracted the lady, giving a wink as the others escaped the awkward conversation. The stiff perfectionist Crown Royal was excessively formal to Ditzy, just like he was to any other.
Prince Luxury asked a stupid, “Is it weird being a pegasus?” But the crowd quickly demanded an apology of him. He didn’t mean poorly, he just had only met unicorns before. Shining Armor was downright friendly to her, far friendlier than he ever was to Blueblood. If anything, the most common awkwardness Ditzy had to deal with was the oft-asked, ‘how do you put up with Blueblood?’ And then she answered that he was never anything but sweet to her. He had caught a few ponies staring at him, struck by the difference between her description and the abrasive stallion they thought they knew. That was fine with Blueblood. If ponies thought that he was the weirdo in the relationship, he could definitely live with that.
Blueblood’s smile – and his sense of ease – grew as Ditzy met one pony after another. Maybe they were just following Fancy Pants’ lead, or maybe the rules and niceties of high society were protecting Ditzy more than harming her. Perhaps Fancy Pants was right, and his peers were better than Blueblood had always believed. The event began passing in a pleasant haze, the couple dancing with each other and with other ponies, eating, chatting, and generally having a classy good evening.
However it happened, Ditzy was having a great time. And that was the important thing.
Ponies talked readily to her, and she was the best listener they ever met. She was strange, but that also made her exotic. Word had begun circulating: the arrogant and boorish Blueblood, wooed by a simple country girl. Ponies liked the story – it was cute and romantic. And it was also readily overshadowed by excited gossip of Cadence and Shining Armor.
“Okay, I seriously wish ponies would stop staring at me.” Shining Armor grumbled. He had fallen in with Blueblood, probably because the Prince wasn’t interested in him. “Why now, of all nights?”
“What do you mean?” Blueblood asked, feigning ignorance. The whole Ball knew of his impending proposal, but no need to say anything.
“It’s just – ugh, never mind.” Shining Armor shook his head. “Sorry. Anyway, I came over to say congratulations on your date. I wish you two the best.”
Blueblood nodded. “Thanks…er, did you see where Ditzy went?”
Shining opened his mouth to respond, but Rarity cut in first from the other side of him. “Over there, on the dance floor near the blue hay table. Dancing with Prince Charming.”
“Great,” Blueblood grumbled sourly.
Rarity gave him a humored, knowing smile. “He always dances with all the mares, Prince. Would you rather he treated Ditzy differently?”
He glanced at Rarity, eyebrows raised. She had a point, and they both knew it. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop a wry smile coming to his face. They locked gazes, smiles growing. Weirdly enough…they were both on the same page. Maybe closer than they ever could have been had Rarity turned his eye at the Gala. It seemed perpetually clouded by ego, but there was a genuine warmth of feeling between the two.
“I’m…glad you’re my friend, Rarity.”
She accepted it with grace, closing her eyes and giving a deep nod. When she opened her eyes, she found her hoof clasped by Blueblood.
“Will you grant me this dance, Fair Lady?”
With a tiny giggle, she nodded again and the pair trod over to the dance floor.
It was a slow waltz, consisting of several minutes of easy movement. Blueblood found it remarkable how easily he was smiling. How easily he was laughing, talking, and breathing. His fears had been dashed. He was actually having fun with his fellow upper crust, and so was Ditzy. And maybe, just maybe…he had more friends than he guessed.
Rarity continued dancing, obliviously pleased. But about halfway through the waltz, an entirely different feeling came over Blueblood.
Nothing ever goes this well.
He swallowed, feeling a chill work its way up his spine. This was too good to last. Nothing, absolutely nothing in his life went this smoothly. Least of all when he brought an odd pegasus to a royal ball.
It wasn’t something that could be described. It was an instinct, a sudden feeling of fear without any cause he could see.
It would be a stupid thing to explain, so he kept dancing. But his head kept snapping around, looking for Ditzy. Where was she? Crying in a corner? Surrounded by sneering mockers? No, there! She was...
…Dancing with Prince Charming, just like Rarity said.
Blueblood sighed with relief. He REALLY needed to relax more.
Such were his thoughts when disaster struck.
It started with the garter stockings, so it was partially Rarity’s fault.
Ditzy had never worn socks or anything like them in her life. She had skidded several times on the smooth dance floor, but always had been able to hold onto her partner and keep balance. Not so with this particular waltz, in which the partners danced at a short distance. It was the only fast movement of the dance, a tight circle around each other. Ditzy missed the cue as Charming quick-stepped to her side. She scrambled twice as fast to try to get back in pace with him and slipped on the blue floor. As her hooves went upward, Ditzy yelped and instinctively flapped her wings.
Naturally, the course of their dance had brought them a bit too close to the cake and punch table.
The tip of one wing slapped a silver bowl, sending it flying end-over-end into the air. The blue punch inside poured squarely on Ditzy, but the closest three ponies also got a splash: Charming and the nearest dance couple, Golden Gem and Regality.
Regality started towards the bathroom without preamble, miffed, but more so hoping that this wouldn’t prove a rerun of the Gala disaster. That other two just stared at Ditzy.
Silence fell.
Sitting on the floor, the pegasus gave a nervous smile before the punch bowl came down over the top of her head.
She pulled it above her eyes and split her eyes even further apart, giving a weak laugh. “Derp.”
Golden Gem was staring with horror at her left hoof, where maybe a square foot of blue punch had hit her. Prince Charming snorted once, then broke out laughing.
“Wow!” he announced loudly, still chuckling heartily. “A disaster like that from a waltz! That takes special talent, my dear! Yes, you are definitely one SPECIAL pony.”
He laughed loudly at his own joke, with Ditzy joining in quietly. Blueblood’s eyes narrowed and he started walking forward. It wasn’t a real laugh, it wasn’t even close. It was her ‘don’t mind me, I’m an idiot’ laugh.
“My dress!” Gem shrieked, realizing some of the punch had gotten on her fabric.
Charming flashed her a smile. “Oh, come on, Dear. Surely it’s nothing an apology won’t fix.”
She ignored his charms, looming over a cringing Ditzy. “You! You did this on purpose, didn’t you!”
“Really? Look at her!” Charming continued to smile, gesturing towards the wet pegasus. They were all a little wetter than they were a moment ago, but Ditzy had definitely gotten the full force of the spilled punch.
“Do you really think this little filly would do something like that intentionally?...Heheh, Ditzy, can you say ‘intentionally?’” Charming was treating the whole thing as a joke, but Gem wasn’t laughing.
Neither was Ditzy. At least, not on the inside.
When the pegasus gave an inaudible mumble, Charming chortled. “Come on, Sweetheart. ‘Intentionally.’ It’s not a hard word.”
“Oh, knock it off!” Gem snarled, glaring at him then back to Ditzy. “What’ve you got to say for yourself, featherbrain?!!”
Ditzy perked up a tiny bit – this was a question any polite filly knew the answer to. “Sorry?”
“She can’t help being special,” Charming said distractedly, winking at one of the mares in the crowd.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it!” Gem snapped, making Ditzy cringe even more. “I can’t believe it! My dress, ruined! My hooficure, ruined! The whole evening, ruined by THE PONYVILLE VILLAGE IDIOT!”
Her hoof shot out, rapping the bowl still on Ditzy’s head.
Blueblood drew in a sharp breath. He was working his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, but their attention was all on the spectacle before them.
Some of the ponies were chuckling along with Charming and nodding their heads – he was attempting to defuse Gem, and the sooner he succeeded the sooner the evening could go on. Others were ignoring the scene, while some were rolling their eyes and whispering to each other. Some were glaring at Gem, and a few were even glaring at Charming for his mean-spirited jokes.
Blueblood ignored them all, even the last group. Disapproval wasn’t going to solve the problem. Action would, but the ponies who looked kindly on Ditzy seemed content to frown and tut to each other about “that poor girl.”
Some were sending glances Blueblood’s way. He was her date, what would he do?
“I’ll show you what I’m going to do,” he growled. With a vicious tug of magic, his tie snapped off and dropped to the ground. He whipped his jacket off, causing a few shouts around him – disrobing in public was nothing short of scandalous.
It was strange, but his vision was sharper than ever. The world was clear, and his course of action was set. Some thought him rude. They hadn’t seen ‘rude’ yet. Every social grace was forgotten. Every self-conscious bit of nervousness or trepidation, gone. He wasn’t even thinking of chivalry and sympathy. He wasn’t going to protect Ditzy. He was going to destroy her aggressors.
Blueblood was a stallion of good intentions. But he was also an unmitigated flankhole, now free of every shackle that forced him to keep it restrained.
Rarity was by his side, scraping the ground with one hoof like she was about to charge somepony. Her face was set in a vicious smile. “I’ll take the one on the left, you-“
His white coat dropped over her face.
“Thanks for holding my jacket,” Blueblood sniffed, and he strode forward.
Maybe he was projecting some kind of aura, because the crowd before him rapidly dispersed as he advanced. Blueblood’s horn was lowered, his posture aggressive. Only an idiot would get in his way now.
“Prince Blueblood,” Noble Heart began nervously, getting in his way. “Let me talk to them, I can-“
“You have exactly two seconds to move.”
Noble Heart blinked. And he took a long step to the side, removing him from Blueblood’s path.
“Good,” the Prince said, and began striding past.
The brown stallion looked worriedly at him. “I want to help you.”
“I got this.” Blueblood grunted. He glanced back, seeing the other unicorn’s head droop a little.
He sighed and paused, turning his head back. “Noble Heart, I…I have a bad habit of treating my friends like griffon droppings.”
Blueblood glanced wryly to Rarity, then back to the other noble. “I really don’t know why ponies make friends with me.”
Noble Heart gave a knowing smile.
“Friendship is a two-way street. You say ‘they make friends with you,’ like they do all the work. You make friends with them, too. You might not even notice it, but before you know it, you’ve got one more friend. Sometimes that’s just how it works.” And with that, Noble Heart tipped his hat and stepped back into the crowd.
The Prince turned back forward, only to find Fancy and his mare blocking the way as well.
Fancy Pants had one hoof up in a ‘stop’ motion, though was leaning back ever so slightly. “Now I know how you feel,” he talked rapidly, pointedly. “But let the cooler head handle this. Come on, you know me. I’ll start talking, turn it into a big feel-good moment about accepting ponies who are different. They’ll apologize, she’ll be happy, we’ll all be happy. Isn’t that good?”
Blueblood cracked one of his foreleg joints. The sappy feeling had passed. “Fancy, either you’re moving, or I’m going over you.”
“Best get out of his way, Mon Cheri.” Fleur gently began pulling Fancy aside, must to the surprise of both stallions.
The fop allowed himself to be lead, shaking his head. “Prince, I’ve never seen you like this.”
Fleur smiled patiently at Blueblood, who – bemused – offered a small smile back.
The regal mare smiled wryly. “I think, Mon Cheri, that Blueblood is a stallion of two natures. He is very kind, but very rude. These two parts of his being have traveled so far apart that they have met on the other side of the globe, at their greatest extremes. Lady Celestia help any who stand in his way.”
“Wow,” Blueblood said, a little off-put. A deep, philosophical guess into his psyche…from Fleur?
“Gee, I don’t know what to say. Thanks, Fleur. You’re smarter than you look.”
Fleur beamed. “Thank…”
The grin turned to an unimpressed glower as the backhanded compliment hit home. “…You,” she finished icily.
“You’re welcome,” he said briskly, and he pressed on without a glance back.
Charming was the first to notice Blueblood’s approach. He smiled lazily as the other Prince advanced, sipping from a glass of wine he had poured himself. It was all part of the fun to Charming: Blueblood looked every inch the part of the angry lover. He would shout like a brute, and Charming would play the part of the calm, smart one. Rather than shouting blame like Blueblood and Gem, he would play things along and come off as the only one with any style to speak of. Everypony would be impressed with his wit, and at least one mare would invite him to her bed tonight. That was how these little dramas played out.
Blueblood was…a little off script when he didn’t go right to Ditzy’s side or start shouting at Gem. He simply walked up to Charming and magically snatched the wineglass away from him.
“Thanks for holding my drink,” Blueblood said without a hint of anger, and downed it in one go.
He dropped it to the ground and snapped his neck left and right, eliciting two loud cracks. Even Gem and Ditzy were staring at him now.
“Prince Charming,” Blueblood announced loudly. Now he did look angry, and he did position himself next to Ditzy. “You’ve been mistreating my marefriend. I’m going to beat your snout in.”
Charming gave a droll glance to the audience. “Good Sir, I-“
Blueblood’s right hoof shot out and slammed into the side of Charming’s snout. Blueblood wasn’t any stronger than the last time he punched somepony, but he was a lot angrier, and Charming was a lot wimpier than Star Gazer.
The impact staggered the other prince, and he looked up at Blueblood with a mix of fear and anger. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all.
Still, it was salvageable. Charming righted himself and threw back his mane, flashing a smile for the mares in the crowd. “Boor! Do you wish to brawl like a common laborer, or challenge me to a duel like a proper stallion?”
Blueblood punched him twice more: once in the pretty blue eye before he could react, once in the exact spot the hoof had connected last time.
“Don’t you have any sense of-“
“Not really.” Blueblood said it almost cheerfully, slapping him heavily across the face with his hoof.
Gem gasped. “What are you thinking, you ruffian?”
Blueblood let Charming stagger away from him, turning his vengeful glare at the mare. “I’m thinking that if you touch her again you’ll be banished from Equestria.”
Gem blinked, taken aback at the level of the threat, then rolled her eyes. “Like you can do that.”
“CAN’T I?” Blueblood roared it suddenly, nose in the air. He was shouting, but he was grinning at the same time. “I am the favored nephew of the Princesses – that’s plural, by the way – making me BASICALLY THE HIGHEST RANKING MORTAL IN EQUESTRIA. Maybe I can’t have you exiled. Maybe I can.”
The last part was spoken calmly, even casually. “Do you want me to find out?”
Head lowered in defeat, Gem shrunk back. She had lost her temper on Ditzy, and wasn’t about to let that ruin her life.
“Blueblood?”
From the floor, a quiet voice came up. Ditzy looked up at him, carefully removing the bowl from her head. Her lipstick and blush had been ruined by the punch, giving her face a bluish stain. Two lines of her natural gray were visible beneath her eyes where she had been crying. Her mane was a wet, floppy mess.
“It’s okay,” she said, voice like a whisper. “You don’t need to get d-dufensive? Defensive over me.”
“I’m not defensive, Ditzy,” he turned away from her, grinning savagely. He locked eyes challengingly with anypony who would meet them.
“I’m very, very offensive.”
Nopony in the crowd proved willing to match his gaze. Maybe they were ashamed that they didn’t protect Ditzy, or maybe they just didn’t want to meet the eyes of the crazy pony. Only Rarity seemed comfortable with the situation – she tried to put a disapproving frown on her face, but it kept slipping back into a smile.
Charming shook his head rapidly, recovering from the blow. Seething, he stormed back up to Blueblood. The other prince just watched him approach with an arched eyebrow.
“Cur!” Charming slapped his cousin across the face.
Blueblood just blinked, unimpressed. If he hit Star Gazer like that, no wonder the pegasus only mocked him. ‘Hit like a filly,’ indeed.
“I demand satisfaction!” Remembering himself at the last moment, Charming tossed his mane back dramatically. “I challenge you to a duel.”
“Uh-huh.” Blueblood resisted the urge to punch him again. “Well, I accept. Sure. As the one challenged, I get to choose the weapon and time, right?”
Charming bowed. “Of course. We can do this with foam swords. Or with water pistols, if you prefer.”
“Right.” Blueblood planted his feet and raised his horn. “Cake at now.”
“Very well, we sha-wait, what?”
Blueblood’s horn glowed. Ditzy had destroyed the punch on the cake and punch table…but there was still plenty of the former to be had. Dozens of heavy, moist cakes floated into the air, orbiting Blueblood like sugar-filled moons.
The presence of so many of the fearful baked goods brought beads of sweat down Blueblood’s face. But his fearsome grin was still there.
This was gonna be good.
Prince Charming ‘eeped’ and dove under the nearest thing he could fit under: Golden Gem.
“No fair!” she cried.
“What’s the matter…?” Blueblood asked, eye twitching as a memory came to mind.
Rarity knew what was coming and leaned forward, smiling evilly. “Say it.”
Blueblood’s grin widened to downright terrifying proportions “…AFRAID TO GET DIRTY?”
The slick Charming gave one last fabulous smile to Blueblood. “Hey…this is a duel, right? Can I get a cake?”
“You get ALL the cake,” Blueblood jovially assured him. With a swing of his horn, the mass of baked goods launched high into the air and bombarded his enemies, burying them within a mound of tasty goodness.
“Foul…” Charming groaned from within the heap, but his rival wasn’t paying him any more attention.
Blueblood clapped his hooves together as if he was dusting them off, addressing the audience without even looking at them. “So…anypony else have some witty insults for my marefriend?”
Silence reigned. A motion behind him made him wonder if some fool had actually stepped forward, but it was just Ditzy standing up. She shook her mane a little, dislodging a few drops of blue punch.
His crystal certainty of purpose was fading, and Blueblood swallowed hard as he saw her. Sure, she was a mess. Lipstick gone. Blush smeared. Dress stained and wrinkled. Her dripping hair was dyed blue and hanging down limply from the side of her face.
But she pulled off the ‘wet mane look’ good.
REALLY good.
At this point, they had already made a mess of the Sapphire Ball. So why not?
“You look SO beautiful,” he said, and kissed her square on the lips. Hard. She grabbed his head and pushed his face in even harder. With a rush of air, her wings snapped to attention.
They broke off. “You look good too,” Ditzy returned an instant before they kissed again.
The pair turned and began to stride out of the hall. Ditzy’s wing was draped over her prince like a blanket, holding him tight as they made their way forwards.
With the fight over, the nobility tenaciously resumed their party. Crazier things had happened at these events, and few wanted the evening to end so soon. Blueblood’s name shot to the front of the gossip. Some were grumbling, others speaking excitedly of whatever their opinion happened to be.
Out of the corner of his eye, Blueblood saw Shining in a quiet corner, down on one knee before a beaming Cadence. Nopony was paying them any attention – there was a hot new scandal, and his name was Blueblood.
He didn’t pay them any mind either. A passing glance, and nothing more. Everything that mattered was right next to him.
The cool night hit them as they stepped out of the stuffy hall. Not a word was spoken during the short walk to the chariot. Blueblood nodded to the pegasus guards and held the door for Ditzy.
She looked over the side of the chariot as the drivers stretched their wings. Ditzy was smiling tiredly, worn out from the evening’s excitement.
Blueblood scratched the back of his head, looking down. “I’m…not really sure where we can go with this.”
Ditzy swallowed. “You, ah…”
She smiled a little and blushed. “You wanna find out?”
He shrugged, and said a simple “Yes.”
Blueblood stood on his tip-hooves to give her one last kiss, and they rubbed their noses together with a shared giggle.
He stepped back and nodded to the guards. They lifted and were off to Ponyville within the moment, though Blueblood stood watching the sky for a long time after that.
After a while, Rarity joined him. The night had matured, and with it came the end of the ball. “She’s gone?”
“Yeah.”
She sat next to him, the pair watching the night sky for a few minutes.
Rarity gave a gentle cough and looked at the prince. “Blueblood…”
“Yeah?” He said again, still looking upwards.
“That was my ride home, too.”
Another moment of silence, then he belatedly shrugged. “I guess you’re walking.”
“BLUEBLOOD!”
“Okay, fine! Sheesh, let me call you a cab…”
Epilogue: No Need for Words
They were in a rush, but Star Gazer never let the little things distract him from juicy conversation.
“Yowza. Did your aunt blow a gasket after you trashed the party like that?”
As they approached a street corner, Blueblood raised a hoof. The small band screeched to a halt behind him. He peered around the side of the building – good, nopony to be seen. Strange for noontime in Canterlot, but this was a strange day. With a quick gesture of his head, he waved the group on.
“Not really,” he mused, casting his mind back to less frantic times. “Aunt Celly tried to scold me, but she kept cracking up and prying for gossip. You know, ‘did you REALLY threaten to exile Gem?’ and all that. I think my flipping out back there surprised even her.”
“Hey, it was for a good cause.” Star Gazer gave a quick smile to the third member of their little party. Ditzy smiled back and blushed a little, embarrassed by the memory. Their fourth, Helperton, was trotting backwards behind them, eyeing the direction they had just come from.
“Darn right,” Blueblood grunted. “I was persona non grata for a while, but you know how that works. A scandal with Cadence’s dressmaker, a rumor about Luna, and it was all forgotten within a few weeks.”
His frown turned upward into a mean smile. “Well, maybe not ‘forgotten.’ For some reason, nopony’s said a bad word about Ditzy ever since.”
“Ha!” Star Gazer barked. The prince glared at him abruptly, causing the green pegasus to slap a hoof over his mouth. The group stopped in silence for a second, but the noise seemed to have gone unnoticed.
Star Gazer rolled his eyes. “Quiet, Schmiet. I still say nopony’s going to hear us over all the explosions.”
Blueblood’s glare continued, voice deadpan. “We would dearly thank you to humor us and avoid loud noises.”
The pegasus snorted at the uncharacteristic use of the Royal We. He shook his head, grin still wide, but a little sadder. “I’m sure going to miss you when you move.”
“Step lively, youngsters!” Helperton abruptly sped past them. The other three knew what that meant, and they all began galloping after him.
The older earth pony slowed a bit, casting a glance behind him. “And what was that about you moving?”
“Sorry, still working through my ‘ponies to tell’ list.” Blueblood bashfully scratched the back of his head, the action nearly causing him to trip as they ran on. “See, being in love is wonderful, magical, and all that other mushy stuff. But with Ditzy living in Ponyville and me in Canterlot, it’s been a logistical nightmare. Chariots aren’t always available for me to go to her, and she can only come here occasionally because of work and Dinky and all that.”
One of Helpteron’s hooves was firmly spent keeping his top hat in place, but he seemed to run fine on three legs. “I see.”
“It was rough,” Ditzy admitted quietly.
Blueblood shrugged, grimacing wryly. “We adapted as best as we could. Anyway, one day my Aunts called me into the parlor. Aunt Celestia said she wants the Unicorn Royalty to get out more. She said the way to do this is to dispatch them as ‘royal advisors’ to various towns. By sheer coincidence I’m sure, she thinks that I’m the right stallion and Ponyville’s the right place for the test run. If construction goes as planned, my mansion there will be done by Hearth’s Warming.”
“Wow.” Helperton eyed his friend from beneath his bushy brows. “That’s-“
“-A transparent attempt by them to solve my problem for me, I know.” Blueblood cut in, rolling his eyes. “I called them on it, too. ‘I don’t need your pity!’ and all that.”
Star Gazer had taken the lead, but he eased back a few paces. “I didn’t catch this part. What happened?”
“Luna turned the Royal Canterlot Voice to the max,” Blueblood groaned. “’SHUT UP AND LET YOUR AUNTS DO SOMETHING NICE FOR YOU!’ Except loud enough to peel the wallpaper.”
Ditzy gently slapped his shoulder. “It’s okay to let ponies be nice to you.”
“I know, I’m just…stubborn, I guess.” After the poor impersonation of Luna’s shout, Blueblood didn’t have much breath left. He galloped steadily onwards, letting Star Gazer take the lead. The pegasus rounded another corner…then whipped back at lightning speed, urging them in a different direction. The group ducked down an alleyway, right into a dead end.
Star Gazer tapped the unyielding brick wall. “Hm. Kind of a moot point now, isn’t it, Blues?”
The prince took a deep breath and shrugged. “Yeah…”
“…because we’re about to be eaten by changelings.”
The horde had finally caught up with them. Dozens, if not hundreds of insectoid bodies barred their path. A sea of malevolent blue eyes stared at their cornered prey. There was no need to run now. They advanced slowly, relishing the coming feast.
Strangely, the four very different ponies all had the same expression. They were nervous, but also stoic. The fear and panic had come earlier, when Ditzy’s quiet visit had been erupted by the invasion. Maybe in their hearts, they had known there was no escape.
Blueblood took a gallant step in front of Ditzy, but she would have none of it. She stepped forward with him, keeping her body firmly pressed against his.
Helperton’s voice came up softly. “Here, lad – take my spare.”
The prince glanced to the side to see-
“WHAT IS THAT?!!”
“It’s a shotgun, Blues,” Helperton said drolly, balancing it on an outstretched hoof. “Only got two shots, so make ‘em count.”
With an incredulous look, the Prince levitated the metal construct up and glanced behind him. Star Gazer had fitted himself with a pair of brass horseshoes and was taking some test punches in the air. Helperton’s mouth was now carrying a wooden rod, attached to which was a short chain and spiked metal ball.
This was just too weird. “Where did you GET these?”
“Muh hat!” The blue pony responded with a full mouth, the glee behind it still apparent.
Blueblood rolled his eyes. There was no way all those random weapons could fit in Helperton’s modest black hat. “At least I’ll die befuddled,” he grumbled, cocking the weapon. It made a very satisfying Cha-CLAK noise that gave the horde pause for the barest of moments. But the menacing advance resumed, and right before his eyes, their forms began twisting…
Blueblood’s morale went straight to zero. He took a step back, stammering fearfully. “Changelings! Of course! Sweet Celly, they can just take the form of whatever hideous monster they want!”
He couldn’t look. He covered his eyes, willing them just to kill him quickly. What would he be mauled by? A manticore? A dragon? An ooze monster?
“Please nothing with tentacles,” he mewled, scrunching his eyes closed even tighter. He heard his three companions gasp at the fiends looming before them.
Star Gazer screamed. “OH MY GODDESS, it’s HORRIBLE!”
Blueblood gave a start, and his eyes shot open by instinct…
…To see hundreds of copies of himself, leering at him.
Adding insult to insult, they were all significantly overweight.
He glared angrily to the side, seeing Star Gazer breaking down into a fit of laughter. Even Ditzy and Helperton were chuckling a little.
“Shut up!” He shot, blushing fiercely and whipping around to the changelings. “And you! I am NOT that fat!”
The changelings resumed closing in on them. This time Blueblood took a solid step forwards and tapped his forehooves together. There was no way he could outfight them, but he was darn well gonna try. The other two stallions stepped up beside him, Star Gazer still chortling. “Heh…I’m so happy I could get in one more before we all get killed. Or whatever it is changelings do.”
‘Whatever’ indeed. The changelings would do whatever they wanted to the hapless ponies. Escape was cut off. There were far too many to fight. And it wasn’t like they could just fly away.
Blueblood blinked. Duh. “Ditzy, fly out of here!”
“What about me?” The other pegasus whined.
“Shut up – changelings can fly too, so all three of us need to distract them.”
“That ain’t fair at all,” Star Gazer grumbled. He shrugged and put on a wry smile, raising his brass-edged hooves. “Still, I can do it for a pretty girl.”
Ditzy, though, had very different plans. While the three stallions postured with their weapons, steeling themselves for a final stand, she had dashed forward. The prince gave a cry, but it all happened before he could react. His special somepony stood before the horde of bloated Bluebloods, standing upright, her forehooves stretched wide.
“Beware, I’m a magic pony!” She shouted. Her eyes were stretched even further apart than normal. Even her low voice made the whole thing seem like a joke. The changelings exchanged glances and snorted mean-spirited laughter.
“I mean it!” She shouted, drawing more scornful laughs. “I’m one of a kind! I bet none of you can copy me!”
Once more, the changelings exchanged glances. This time a ripple of shrugs emerged. Sure. If this stupid pony wanted to call them out, it would be kind of fun to crush her delusions before getting to the meal. There was no hurry.
The horde of Bluebloods dissolved and shrunk, each one taking the form of the lanky, short-nosed pegasus named Ditzy.
Complete with the eyes, googly to begin with and stretched as far apart as physically possible.
Their sneers turned to looks of shock and pain. The pulling of the eye muscles and distorted vision sent waves of vertigo through each brain. Cries and moans emerged and many fell to the ground – unable to concentrate, they were unable to change forms. More fell and they desperately closed their eyes, blotting out the splitting headache and slowly reverting back to their natural shapes. Even the quickest among them were dizzy afterwards from the sudden shifts in vision, but even the slowest needed only a few minutes to recover. Still, it was all the time the four ponies needed to make good their escape.
Secure in a new hiding place, Blueblood looked at his love with wide eyes. “How did you know they were going to do that?”
“Because I taunted them about it.” From out of nowhere, Ditzy produced a pair of sunglasses and put them on. Maybe she was trying to look awesome, but she just looked cute as ever to him.
“Punks shouldn’t derp if they can’t handle it,” she said, raising her nose in imitation of Blueblood’s arrogant gesture.
“You’re a bad influence on her,” Star Gazer tutted, smiling from ear to ear.
Blueblood softly touched his cheek to Ditzy’s neck. “I think we’re meeting each other halfway. Now everypony shut up – we’re laying low here until Princess Celestia saves the day.”
------
In the aftermath of the changeling attack…life went on.
It was an ordinary day in Ponyville. Not a Perfectly Ordinary Day, thank Celestia, as a few wild clouds had blown in from the Everfree Forest. But it was nothing the weather team couldn’t handle, and it was already bright and cheerful by the time the 10-minute bell rang for school.
One of the fillies gave her parents a quick, but passionate hug before dashing to the schoolhouse.
“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” At the entrance, Dinky turned and gave a last wave before disappearing indoors.
Blueblood swallowed and tensed. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to being called…that. He always got this self-conscious crimp in his stomach whenever it came up.
His wife leaned against him, letting the prince support her full weight. Ditzy could sense his mood like nopony else.
She pushed her head up, nuzzling the underside of his chin. “You’re doing good. You’ve got the butterfliers, but I know you’ve got the warm-fuzzies too. You love her, she loves you, it’s all happy.”
“Yeah,” Blueblood admitted, smiling wryly. “I’ll treasure these memories when she’s a teenager and hates me.”
Ditzy growled playfully, pulling away a little and pouting up at him. “Grr! I will wub the cynicism out of you!”
Blueblood looked right at her, coy, but slightly-confused smile on his face. ’Love’ the cynicism out of me? That sounded like an invitation to sex. Was that an invitation to sex? Here? In front of the school? Maybe she wants to go home and-
The answer came abruptly as Ditzy grinned and began rubbing her hoof on his head. “Wub! Wub it all out!”
Blueblood tried to scowl, but he couldn’t help but grin at the random antics. “C’mon, let’s go home.”
She bobbed her head once and turned along with him. For Ditzy, there was no more racing off to work. No more hassles of being a postmare, with its 4am wakeup calls, overnight trips, and backbreaking loads. Instead, Ponyville’s new princess did more important things. She walked her daughter to school and picked her up when it ended. There was time for messy art projects and chaperoning field trips. Time to read together in bed until Dad reminded them that a growing filly needed nine hours of sleep each night.
They passed by a few other ponies about their morning business. Some exchanged brief greetings with the couple, but nopony really gave them a second glance. When Blueblood moved in, he was the talk of the town. When he married Ditzy, they both were. But after a few months, they were just a few odd ponies in a town already full of odd ponies. And that was just fine with everypony.
Ditzy’s hoofmaid met them at the door. As ever, Ditzy blushed and stammered as the formal servant fussed over her. Blueblood wasn’t the only pony still getting used to their new life.
With practiced ease, Blueblood shrugged out of his morning jacket and surrendered it to his butler. “What’s on for today, Butler Phil?”
The coal-black unicorn neatly began hanging the coat in the closet. “Your luncheon with the mayor is the closest event, Sir. Afterwards, you are committed to attending the falconry lesson with Rarity and her friend.”
“Which f-oh right, the one with the owl.”
Butler Phil continued in the same voice as ever. “Yes Sir, ‘the one with the owl.’ Who had saved Equestria on multiple occasions. You may have heard of her.”
Blueblood suppressed a chuckle – even if he was the butt of it, it was always a treat how butlers could deliver wit and sarcasm without the slightest hint of humor. Maybe one day Butler Phil would teach him his ways.
“On the subject,” the black stallion went on without missing a beat. “Miss Rarity stopped by to remind you of the event while you and the Lady were out. She asked that I deliver the following message: To please refrain from shouting ‘neeeeeerrrrd’ at Miss Sparkle in the future.”
“Who reads while going falconing, anyway?” Blueblood grunted, stepping upstairs. “You know, before I forget again, let me find those ugly cuff buttons. High time I returned them to her.”
“Miss Rarity may have intended those as a gift,” Butler Phil noted helpfully.
Blueblood snorted, his voice echoing from upstairs. “A gift? I wouldn’t give those things to Discord.”
He rummaged through his vanity, grumbling in annoyance. Where were those things, anyway? Those blocky, black things Rarity had put on his suit for that first, disastrous date. He kept telling himself he’d return them, time to finally make good on that.
A smile danced on his face as his search unearthed a few forgotten knick-knacks inhabiting the smaller drawers. Candles from the ‘welcome to Ponyville’ party Miss Pie threw for him. The ornamental monocle Fancy Pants gave him as a parting gift. That photo from Fancy’s wedding the groom made him swear not to show anypony. And…
Blueblood frowned a little as he pulled out a last object, his hunt for the buttons forgotten. A small, plain brown book. Every groove in its leather binding was caked with dust.
“The ol’ diary.” He flipped through a few pages, noting that only about half of them had been written in. So much had happened in the meantime, though! When did he put it away? Why did he stop writing?
He chuckled a little, glancing at the sparse bullet-points from his first trip to Ponyville. Lucky a find as it was…Blueblood didn’t really feel like reading through all his old writings. Nor did he particularly want to take up the hobby again.
But it felt too sad to just put it away again. His last entry was about a barroom brawl of all things, and the words stopped right there like a cliff. No resolution to the problems and worries he rambled about in the last few pages.
He wasn’t even sure he really wanted to add to it. But the dang thing would just keep him up all night thinking about it if he didn’t.
With a sigh, Blueblood settled himself down at his desk. He sat there a good fifteen minutes thinking about what to write. Then another fifteen minutes were wasted staring at his wedding picture, smiling faintly. A good day. A good night, too – Luna had a jealous fit that her sister presided over the ceremony. So she woke the whole town up that night, annulled their marriage, and demanded to wed them again. Nopony had the guts to tell her ‘no.’
Somehow, that wacky little turn of events just made him that much happier. Chuckling faintly to himself, Blueblood raised his pen and touched it to the worn pages one last time.
------
Dear Diary,
Long time, no write. And I don’t think I’ll be writing again.
A cynical pony might say that writing was a hobby of mine, one that I’ve lost interest in. I find myself at a different conclusion. In my hooves, the diary was a crutch for a very socially-challenged pony. I scribbled in it several times a day, cramming in thoughts and opinions that I would never share with another. I spoke to it like it was a pony, but all I was doing was talking to myself. There was no pony I allowed myself to truly confide in. Even with Celestia, whose rank once intimidated me despite our closeness.
I have none to blame but myself. I held ponies away, condescendingly standing on my pedestals of charity and cynicism. I thought I was alone, and the diary was the only thing I let myself be perfectly honest with.
Now I am graced with many, many friends. Some of them were friends since the day I met them, I simply lacked the wisdom to know it. There are many ponies I can speak to without reservation, sharing my hopes and worries without fear of being judged.
And so…I don’t really have much need for the diary, anymore.
So much has happened between the last entry and now, it’s foalish to even try to summarize it. Living in Ponyville, with my beautiful wife and pretty daughter, is all I could ever ask for. Every day is fresh and different, and I’m slowly getting used to the life of the rustic nobility. I’m chief of the Egalitarian Equestrian Ponyville branch – just like “Royal Advisor,” it’s a big title with little responsibility. But it DOES make the EE a ‘national’ organization, opening up a lot of government perks for us. I keep up with my friends in the city, but this place has well and truly become my home.
It’s not all good, all the time. But no matter how often I get dirty, or squabble with Rarity, or get cake thrown at me, it’s outweighed by the good. Presiding over holidays. The honest gratitude shown by the Apples when I got them that tax break. Hosting Dinky’s first sleepover (which was kind of fun in hindsight). Laughing with Rarity about the trouble Dinky and Sweetie Belle got into.
Summer evenings are spent on the porch swing, watching the sun go down with my hoof on Ditzy’s shoulder. And in the winter we bundle up together, usually with the little one between us.
Life is meant to be enjoyed. And I am enjoying myself.
So I’ll speak to you one last time, Diary. You’ve been my crutch, but I’ve learned to walk. I’m sorry I won’t be using the rest of your pages. You’re going back in the vanity, without any finale or ending.
But does every story really need to end? I don’t think so.
Yours,
~~Prince Blueblood~~