Blueblood silently paced back and forth in front of me with a thoughtful frown. I paid him little attention, my mind still trying to come to terms with the images I'd seen. In light of that, it didn't matter to me what Blueblood wanted or that I was even down here alone in some old dungeons where I most likely wouldn't be getting any help.

In that moment, it didn't matter that I was injured, it didn't matter that my dress was ruined, and it didn't matter that I'd been tricked. My small frame still tingled oddly from the pleasant sensation those horribly macabre thoughts had given me, and I squirmed uncomfortably, unsure whether to be amused or afraid in this situation.

But why would I be amused at all, I wondered. There was nothing amusing about being injured and stuck down in an old abandoned dungeon and at the mercy of somepony who most likely had nothing good planned for you.

And yet, something inside me found the whole thing utterly ridiculous—laughable even.

"I'm curious, Miss Sparkle," Blueblood began suddenly, "you've gone quite far out of your way just to go looking for this pony. What made you think they'd be all the way down here?" he stopped his pacing and moved in close, lowering his head so that he was eye level with me, "who exactly was it that you were looking for?"

"N... None of your business," I heard myself growl through clenched teeth, "I got turned around and wound up here, that's all. It doesn't matter anyway because they weren't here."

I was still unsure of how to feel, so instead I opted for defiance. Blueblood had said he didn't want to hurt me, but I couldn't be sure of that given his other lies. Being scared however, wasn't getting me anywhere and while I was still worried, I could at least manage to put up a brave front.

"Yes, that is a shame," Blueblood sighed as he straightened up and stepped back, "but I'm fairly sure I already know who you were so desperately trying to locate," he cast a sly smirk my way, "it was Crimson Storm, right? That creepy Royal Guard?"

"She's... she's not creepy!" I snapped before grunting in pain, "s-she just... isn't good at talking to ponies. That's no reason for everypony to be scared of her."

"Oh, it's not Crimson Storm everypony is scared of, Miss Sparkle, I assure you," Blueblood chuckled mirthlessly, "rather, they're scared of the one 'holding her reins' as it were."

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded, "what are you talking about? Holding her reins? What does that mean?"

"Crimson Storm wasn't always the way she is now you know," Blueblood continued, as though he hadn't heard my question, "she used to be... a lot like you actually. Shy, introverted, naive as sin, but ultimately a nice pony that was easy to get along with," he paused, sighed, and shook his head, "but then she caught my father's eye, the poor mare."

I grimaced, half from the pain in my leg and half from the thought of the elder Blueblood. I knew from the beginning that there was something wrong with the stallion, but I had no idea just how horrible he really was, not until his son laid it out for me.

"My father, Prince Blueblood VI, Captain of the Royal Guard, Head of House Blueblood, one of the wealthiest and most influential ponies alive," the colt snorted, "and without a doubt, one of the most ruthless ponies in existence. I'm not sure if you've met my father, but he is not a stallion to be trifled with."

"I already told you I've seen him before," I replied quietly, my eyes wandering away from the colt as I thought back to the interaction between the Captain and Crimson Storm, "I could see for myself that your dad wasn't a very nice pony."

"Ah, that's right, you did mention as much. Well, that, at least, is something we can agree on," Blueblood responded with a small smirk. It soon fell into a frown as he began his pacing once more, "like Crimson Storm, my father used to be a different stallion. He was still a cold and calculating sort, but he had a heart... somewhere in there," his frown deepened into a dark scowl, "until my mother found it and tore it out."

I watched Blueblood carefully, and saw that the hurt in his expression was genuine. I believed him, but no longer sympathized like I did the last time he'd mentioned what happened with his mother. To anypony else this wouldn't have been so surprising given the circumstances, but I found it strange.

"We were happy—well, as was reasonable to be at any rate, but my mother," he snorted, "or as father was fond of calling her, 'that harlot', found another stallion to keep her warm at night it seems, and that's when things fell apart for our family.

"We were, and still are fine as far as finances and power are concerned, but the reputation of the House of Blueblood took quite a hit, and my father changed after that... drastically," it was his turn to wince as he spoke, "he grew more bitter, surly, angry, violent, especially around mares."

"Did he hurt you?" I found myself asking, deep down for entirely the wrong reasons, "did he... wait," everything clicked together and my eyes widened in realization, "...he hurt Crimson Storm."

"Hurt Crimson Storm?" Blueblood laughed joylessly, "Miss Sparkle, he broke Crimson Storm, that's what he does now. He broke her down over time and made sure that anypony who realized what was going on stayed silent about it. He is after all, a very powerful stallion in almost every sense of the word."

"S-So... all those ponies that wouldn't tell me what was wrong with Crimson Storm..." I muttered, my eyes wide and once again growing wet with tears, "all this time, the reason she was so... s-so..."

"Now you begin to understand, Twilight Sparkle," Blueblood exclaimed, jabbing a hoof in my direction, "when I said Crimson Storm had caught my father's eye, it wasn't as a potential lover, but as a simple plaything to vent his frustrations on," he let his hoof drop and gave a heavy sigh before falling to his haunches in front of me, his expression weary and resigned as he looked at me, "and where do you fit in all of this? Where do we fit in all of this?"

That was a good question, I thought, where did we fit in all of this? From what I could see, and by the way he spoke, it didn't seem like Blueblood agreed with what his father was doing, and yet here I was, still bruised, still sore, still unable to stand, even though he apparently had the magic to heal me.

He said he didn't like seeing me hurt, and yet refused to take the pain away simply because it suited him to keep me in this state, and for what, so he'd have a captive audience to listen to his monologue? His sob story about his family? The only thing I cared about was what his father had done to Crimson Storm.

As these thoughts took hold, my tears began to dry up—the horror of what I'd discovered slowly being replaced with something altogether different. My open mouth slowly closed shut, then turned down in a slight frown and I didn't reply to Blueblood's question. The older colt seemed not to notice though, lost in his own words as he was, and continued speaking.

"It's quite simple really," Blueblood continued, pushing one lock of his golden mane out of his face, "I want my father back, like how he used to be before mother's betrayal. After he's... had his way with that pegasus mare, he comes home, and for a time, I get my father back," he looked away from me, his eyes distant and wistful, his voice quiet and slightly shaky, "you have no idea what that means to me... no idea..."

He grew quiet, and stayed that way for a long minute before turning back to me with a small smile. My frown only deepened at that smile—there was something off about it, that, and his eyes. There was something desperate about his expression, something slightly unhinged.

"That's why I need you, Miss Sparkle," he explained, rising to his hooves and taking a step closer, "you are most likely the closest pony to the Princess right now, it is you, above all others, who have her ear," he lowered his head and practically pushed his face into mine, his eyes and smile growing wider and wider by the second, "you can convince her to give Crimson Storm to my father, and then I can have my father back, and things will be like they were before!"

He was practically shouting now in his excitement, and all the while, my disgust and anger were mingling—mixing together to create something I'd never experienced before. There was an insistent pounding in the back of my head, and my heart was thumping loudly in my chest. Somewhere deep down, that odd sensation was beginning to rise up again, but I tried to push it back down, afraid something horrible would happen if I let it overtake me.

Then the strangest thing happened.

My eyes, by chance, happened to flick away from Blueblood's face and to the room behind him. Off a little ways into the distance, near one of the cells with the broken iron bars, I spotted several of the bars that had snapped off lying scattered about, some long, some short, all of them very sharp at one end.

I looked back at Blueblood and another image flashed across my mind, but this was no dream, it was an idea. It was an idea involving one of those iron bars, some simple levitation, and a decent amount of force—enough to drive metal through flesh and bone. This was not an idea that a filly should have, this was not an idea that anypony should've had, and yet there it was, and the more Blueblood spoke, the better the idea seemed.

"This is why I haven't given up, this is why we're down here now, and why I'm talking to you!" Blueblood was raving, completely oblivious to my internal struggle, "I need this, Twilight Sparkle, do you understand? Crimson Storm may suffer for it to some degree, but that would be a small price to pay for the love of a father, don't you think? What say you, Miss Sparkle... will you help me? Will you talk to the Princess? You'll be rewarded handsomely—whatever is in my family's power to give you, just name it and—"

"I don't care about your dad, and I don't care about you, Blueblood, and after what he did to Crimson Storm, I hope he burns in Tartarus. I hope both of you do. I'm not telling the Princess to do anything, so you can go tell that to your stupid father."

It was my voice, they were my words, but I could scarcely believe either to be the case. All the anger had drained out of my tone, and was replaced with something dark and cold. My heartbeat had quickened significantly, and the pounding in my head had grown so bad, I could feel it reverberating in my spine, but it didn't hurt oddly enough.

Blueblood, for his part, seemed to have frozen, his eerily wide smile locked in place. For a moment we both stared at each other, and eventually, his smile gradually melted away and his expression grew blank. At the same time, that feeling I'd been working so hard to hold back started to slip through, and it was my turn to smile.

I smiled, and in that tense silence—with my heart thumping and my head pounding—my horn began to light up, almost, it felt, of its own accord. My eyes never left Blueblood's, but I could feel my magic wrap reassuringly around something further behind him.

I knew what I was about to do, and I knew it was bad, but in the face of the satisfaction I'd soon feel, the consequences didn't register. Nothing registered except for the weight of the cold iron and the end of this stupid situation. It had seemed absurd to me before, and now I knew why. It was because I could just kill Blueblood and be done with the whole thing, so simple a solution that a foal could've come up with it. So simple that—

Something smashed into my horn and everything went white, my world suddenly exploding in pain.

I cried out, trying to cover my face with bruised legs, as blows continued to rain down one after another. My magic winked out and somewhere in the distance, past the almost unbearable pain, I could hear something hit the floor with a loud, metallic clang. It was clear Blueblood hadn't noticed, as he was far too busy trying to pummel every inch of me he could reach.

I could hear him grunting and growling with rage, sputtering furious half formed words as he swung at me repeatedly. I could see his face, his wild eyes bulging out of his head and his mouth twisted in a horrible snarl. At some point I'd curled up on the ground, trying to protect myself from Blueblood's assault. It felt like an eternity before it ended, but end it did, and just as abruptly as it had started.

I was left lying there, a whimpering, blubbering mess of bruises. Both the terribly pleasant sensation and horrifying murderous intent had long since gone, beaten right out of me. Ultimately it was probably for the best, but at that moment I would've given anything to feel that instead of the pain I was feeling now.

Then everything stopped.

A series of outraged grunts and protests from Blueblood caused me to open my eyes, which had been squeezed shut and were already started to swell. What I saw gave me more than a bit of pause, and my mouth fell open in shock. Sitting on her haunches with the furious colt locked and struggling in her front legs, was Crimson Storm.

Looking up to where the entrance was, I could see that the door was open and that Blueblood's friends were nowhere in sight. I turned back to the red mare, my heart swelling with relief and gratitude, but that quickly died out when I saw the look on her face.

Whereas Blueblood's expression had been full of white hot rage, Crimson Storm's face was a calm mask, but the ice cold fury in her eyes was all too easy to see, and all of it was directed at Blueblood. Her cheeks were still stained a slightly darker shade of red, but it looked as though any other semblance of inebriation had vanished.

"C... Crimson Storm," I croaked between painful coughs, still unable to believe what I was seeing, "y-you're here... how did you..."

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this, Twilight," she replied, her tone just as flat as it always was despite the situation and her obvious fury. Her eyes remained fixed on the struggling colt as she spoke, "I meant to see you sooner, but I haven't been able to. I've been... busy... but I'm here now, and everything is going to be... just fine. He won't hurt you... not anymore. He won't hurt you..."

One of her legs tightened around Blueblood's neck and he gave a choked gurgle, his furious indignation replaced with fear and panic as the gravity of his situation finally settled over him. Once Crimson Storm was certain the colt was lucid, she released a bit of the pressure and smiled down at him. It was the first time I'd seen her smile in any capacity.

It was a terrible smile, full of hatred and ill intent. It was a smile that reminded me of the dream I'd had. It was a smile that reminded me of the one I'd given Blueblood just as I was about to do something very, very bad.

I suddenly felt very sick.

"Crimson Storm," I began in a horrified near whisper, "w-what... what are you doing?"

"This is why I hate nobles, Twilight," she continued, as though I hadn't even spoken, "they're all the same... all of them, and the wealthy, renowned, revered House of Blueblood?" she gave an unsteady chuckle, her eyes clouding over slightly as she peered down at the now terrified colt, "well... like father like son as they say..."

Her voice had become shaky and unstable, the pitch rising higher as she spoke. I watched with no small amount of unease as she leaned in close to Blueblood and whispered in his ear, her wide smile falling into a knowing grin.

"...isn't that right, you little monster?"