After the sun had risen in the morning–quite a while after, in fact–Blueblood’s door creaked open and a maid stuck her head in. “Prince?”
There was a muffled grumble and the covers on the bed shifted. “Go away.”
“Are you feeling well? Shall I fetch the royal physician? Or perhaps the ‘hangover cure’ kit?”
Blueblood felt like he could use a doctor, but didn’t dare say so. “No, I’m fine. Just stop being a bother and leave me alone.”
The maid sighed as if she really was getting quite tired of his attitude, but closed the door and left Blueblood alone.
He pulled the covers down, lying on his back in bed. He was bruised and his face was cut, while the rest of his body was filled with a general ache. Fighting crime was a much less rewarding task than he had envisioned. That was why he was so reluctant to partake. In the comics, they never showed the part about the next morning when the hero felt like shit.
“Which reminds me,” Blueblood said aloud. “Why did I listen to you when you urged me not to let that mare show me up?”
If you didn’t agree with me, you would have just turned your back and let that store get robbed, the voice in his head pointed out.
Blueblood muttered obscenities under his breath and got up, stumbling towards the bathroom in the manner of a drunken haze, although he wished his condition actually was due to a too-large intake of booze. Now that he was moving, he decided that maybe he wasn’t as injured as he thought. Thank goodness for small miracles.
He splashed some water on his face, checking the mirror to study the effects. He’d forced himself to shower upon arrival the previous night, and the dried blood had been removed. Actually, the injuries were looking much better than he remembered. Maybe it was the good night’s sleep he’d had.
No, actually it was me.
Blueblood rolled his eyes. “Alright, that’s it. Cut it out with the creepy mindreading thing. You’re going to tell me who you are right now. I’m tired of listening to you and getting zero answers. What’s your name?”
The voice was silent for several seconds. Blueblood glared at the mirror, noticing his tired, bloodshot eyes and bags underneath them. He could also see her face overlaid on his, which was still quite a creepy sight to behold. Her expression was not the cocky, inherently frightening visage that had greeted him the last time. Instead, she looked uncertain and almost apprehensive about looking him in the eye.
“I don’t have a name”, she replied. “I...don’t know who I am.”
“Buuuuuullshit,” Blueblood replied, scowling at his reflection, which was more hers anyways. “I don’t want cockamany excuses like that, so you’d better cough up enough explanation for how you gave me wings, why you are in my head, and how exactly I did that… whatever it was, last night.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. Her lips drew tight. “I’ve been keeping this from you because you won’t like it.”
“I didn’t like getting beat up last night. Neither did you.” Blueblood touched tenderly at where the scratch on his face he received the night before was, an exact match to the wound on her cheek as well. “If we’re going to trust one another, you might as well as lay it on the table what exactly you are and why you’re inside my head.”
She sighed. “All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The world seemed to blur around Blueblood in a whirl of colors and scenes. After a moment everything suddenly clicked into place and he came to rest in a small dark room. There was a warm body next to him, and it–she–was slowly sliding on top of Blueblood.
He knew this place. This was the closet where he had holed up during the changeling attack. This was the mare who had been there with him. It was a fond memory.
The situation that had led to this, however, had looked grim. The changeling queen had revealed herself right in the middle of the wedding ceremony. Blueblood had fled, not wanting to be anywhere near creatures that were not only giant bugs, but also wanted to take over all of Equestria. He had found refuge in this closet and the maid had come by while he was huddling there. Not wanting to throw such a pretty mare to the changelings, he’d let her stay. They’d… entertained themselves for a while, and then that goody four-hooves Twilight Sparkle had showed up with her friends and saved the day, clearing out all the changelings. That was the end of the story. That end being a happy ending, wink wink, nudge nudge.
But this time, the memory was different. The maid was just as pretty as before. She’d come onto Blueblood just like she did last time. And that’s where the similarity ended. In the darkness, something wet seemed to drip down Blueblood’s legs. He tried to pick up his hooves but they were stuck to the floor. And that’s when a pair of luminescent green eyes filled with evil intent showed themselves right in front of his face.
“Relax,” a distorted, insectoid voice whispered. “This will be over soon.”
Blueblood would have pulled away, but parts of him seemed to be rather firmly attached to the creature in the closet with him. He sucked in a breath to scream but she covered his mouth and began to grind against him.
And then came the most horrifying sensation so far. In the darkness, Blueblood couldn’t see what was happening, but it felt like the tables had turned and he was the one being penetrated.
The world flashed back to Blueblood’s bathroom. He staggered, gasping and clinging to the sink for dear life. His eyes went to the mirror. “I… I can’t believe…”
“It’s true,” she said quietly. “This was blocked out of your memories, Blueblood, but I found it. I suspect the changeling queen did that to stop you from realizing what had happened.”
“But that doesn’t explain…” Blueblood stuttered, his brain trying to catch up. “That still doesn’t tell me what you are!”
“I don’t know!” she shot back, fixing him with an angry glare. “I woke up with you yesterday. I don’t have any idea what I was doing before that. I don’t know where I came from.”
“But you think it’s related to changelings,” he replied.
“Did you see my wings?”
Blueblood frowned. “Your wings?”
“Well, you didn’t spontaneously grow them by yourself,” she replied. The appendages in question, which until this moment had been folded idly on Blueblood’s back, twitched and began to molt. The feathers withered and disappeared, giving way to the gossamer material that had first emerged from his body the day before. They did look an awful lot like changeling wings, with the races’ signature holes scattered throughout the surface.
Blueblood slowly swung his gaze back to the mirror, trying very hard not to freak out. “So... you’re a changeling.”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“But you look like a changeling,” he accused.
“Yes, but–”
Blueblood slammed his hoof against the bathroom sink. “Why are you inside my body?!”
“Please calm down!” she pleaded. “Panicking won’t help us get to the bottom of this!”
“I’m not panicking, I’m pissed! Get out of my head! The only bottom I want to get to is the end of a bottle when this is through!”
“I can’t leave! If I knew how, I would! You are the most egotistical, pigheaded, bigoted pony I have ever known! If others think you’re bad, then imagine what I have to go through while stuck in your head! I can’t do anything by myself because apparently I’m less my own individual and more like a mere piece of your conceited, princely body! Do you even know what that feels like, being permanently stuck in your head?”
They both glared at each other. It was a little surprising that the mirror didn’t melt under the force of so much hostility.
Blueblood turned away and left the bathroom. “I’m going to breakfast.”
He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say so, especially since the… thing in his head could read his thoughts. Maybe speaking to her let him pretend he wasn’t literally stuck with her. Plus, if he kept on thinking she could hear everything he thought, then that’d drive him mad with paranoia in no time.
She didn’t respond to that fortunately, but did ask, How were you planning to leave your room when you have wings?
Blueblood grimaced and pulled a jacket out of his dresser. It was not very fashionable and he was not feeling cold, but he was not currently in the mood to get things just perfect.
And about your face?
“I… I’ll say I tripped.”
It looks better than it did before, since I healed it.
Blueblood shook his head in confusion. “You did what?”
I’m no doctor, but I was able to patch you up a little from the inside. You’ll have to do the rest of the healing yourself, though. I was afraid of regenerating too much of you, in case it came out bad.
Blueblood shuddered slightly at her mention of “inside,” but that was dampened by what she had done for him. He wasn’t about to play nice with her, but it at least made him feel a little conflicted. She had the good grace not to say anything about that.
Stepping outside his bedroom, Blueblood glanced around warily. There was nopony in sight, but he nervously tightened his jacket. He still didn’t quite have full control over his wings, so he wanted to be sure there wouldn’t be any unexpected surprises.
Blueblood’s stomach growled out a call for nourishment. Venturing down the hallway, he navigated towards the kitchen to grab something to eat. There was no way he was going to sit down to breakfast, not if he could help it.
Suddenly, a strange thought popped in his head, and without even realizing he blurted out, “Wait, can I eat love now?” Since he had the wings, did that mean he had a changeling’s appetite as well?
I don’t know. I haven’t felt anything like that.
Blueblood frowned. The voice had even told him not to get romantically involved with Bright Defender. “Maybe not, then.”
He did think about Bright, though. It was hard not to. She’d made him look like a fool, although Blueblood had to admit that she probably hadn’t meant to. Also, he was in disguise, so it was not a problem. Along with the fact she did have some shapely qualities to her that he wouldn’t mind taking another look at.
Plus, seeing her heedlessly come to his rescue was strangely a turn on. Not many mares actually cared enough about Prince Blueblood to save him like that.
Wait, I thought you didn’t like her? Stop flip flopping, it’s driving me nuts.
Blueblood did not reply, as he had just reached the kitchen. He’d rather not argue with himself in front of the staff.
Just as he opened the door, Blueblood came face to face with the former Captain of the Royal Guards and new Prince of the Crystal Empire, Shining Armor. Both white unicorn stallions blocked the other’s path.
Shining wore a red windbreaker and a tired expression. He was carrying some food, evidently having had the same plan to raid the kitchen as Blueblood.
The two squeezed past, not speaking. Blueblood did not care for Shining, as he had been promoted to royalty through marriage–an even worse excuse than spontaneous, friendship-driven alicornism.
Also, unlike most ponies, he refuses to take shit off you.
Blueblood just barely suppressed an angry retort. It was true, however. Even as a lowly soldier, Shining had not pandered to the prince. In fact, he barely acknowledged him as a royal at all.
Retrieving a few tasty things to eat from the kitchen, Blueblood came back out. Shining leaned against the wall, his face still looking half asleep. Blueblood stopped and Shining’s head came around. They stared at each other for a few seconds.
Be nice and maybe he’ll leave you alone.
Blueblood tried it. “I see that you came for your sister’s coronation yesterday.”
Shining nodded and yawned. “Cadance and I are getting ready to leave this morning.”
Something seemed off. Both princes had nearly the same exhaustion etched into their respective features. Blueblood pointed out, “For being on vacation, you don’t look like you’re well rested.”
“It was a long night.” Shining shook his head. “A long, weird night.”
Glancing at Blueblood, Shining zipped up his windbreaker and walked away. Blueblood frowned.
“You don’t think…” Blueblood shook his head, rubbing a temple. “No, of course not, simply impossible.”
Wait...what if there is another like me out there? The voice sounded excited. Maybe we could figure out what’s going on!
“But… that would mean I ogled Shining Armor’s ass all night!” Blueblood’s eyes widened and his pupils shrank.
“You did what, now?” asked a voice. Blueblood spun, finding himself facing down Princess Cadance, who had just arrived at the kitchen.
Sorry, good buddy, the voice said sympathetically, but this one’s on you!