And so our brave heroes went together on the path of stuff, to do more stuff. It was very awesome, and sometimes boring. But that was the hazards of being true heroes. Sometimes your day just plain sucks.
…Wait, crap, don’t repeat that around your parents. They’ll be on my hide and I have so little to spare right now.
Hey, wait, don’t go play into the curtains either! They apparently might be valuable!
--
Blueblood and one of Celestia’s royal guard were currently talking, speaking in quiet voices with glances stolen to the door leading out of the office.
Unbeknownst to them, I had subtly started to listen to their conversation. Though I was still looking at my book, there was a window of opportunity for me to glance over the edges and see Blueblood’s desk with perfect clarity. So long as I didn’t make any noise, they would never suspect a thing.
Genius. Absolutely genius. They would never know what hit them, or didn’t hit them, depending on my mood.
Without a care for the eminent threat of my presence, Blueblood held a hoof to his forehead and demanded that the guard let her enter. He was ready, or so he said. It was a bit hard to tell from up here, on my perch.
Upon entering the office, I had discovered that the large bookshelves he kept as reference for his mapmaking work also doubled as insanely comfortable nests. Thus I was, a lone draconicorn lying down just beneath the ceiling, with my attention turned downward. I would most likely manage not to imagine them as prey running away from a predatory flyer.
As I subtly swallowed the extra saliva produced at that thought, the door opened on a very dressed earth pony lady, with layers upon layers of thick fabric in an ensemble, that, dare I think it, was kinda gaudy. Rarity would violently steal that horrific outfit away and burn it to save our souls if she ever saw it.
“Prince Blueblood,” the lady bowed respectfully, and with a wave of her hoof dismissed the guard at the door.
Blueballs nodded and gestured to a no less gaudy but adequately comfortable chair. “Mrs. Silk Trade.”
To my great confusion, she took that as an invitation to sit down. A smile stretched her face, though it was a bit hard to tell what she was thinking behind that. "I am so glad you could receive me today, Prince Blueblood."
Ah, well, it might meant that. Problem solved, I thought as I clapped my hoof and my paw together.
Both nobles down there glanced up at this, the beige lady pursing her lips together. "I was worried your new..." And on the next word, she hesitated, barely keeping a sneer off her face. "…functions... might prove to be detrimental to our arrangements."
For some reason, I could have sworn my handler’s teeth were grinding together. But that would have been crazy, he was smiling and speaking politely. “I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that his presence shall not detract from our business.”
And of course, his honeyed words worked their inexplicable magic. With a haughty little sniff, Lady Silk Trade raised her muzzle a little higher than usual. "I should hope so.” She stroked the collar of her outfit, patting it down and strangely pushing forward a small woven crest on her barrel. “Need I remind you of the importance of this agreement?"
With an almost monotone ‘of course not’, Blueblood lit up his horn and magically fetched out a big scroll he unfolded for her care. “I am certain you will find our numbers satisfactory.”
Smugly smiling, the mare took the scroll and slowly unfolded it before her. To my dismay, it seemed like she had chosen to read it before signing her name on the bottom. What a strange concept. It went against all logic, for in stories you must sign everything without noticing the little binding clauses in microscopic format in another language.
So, in the meantime, I rolled to lie on my back and look at the ceiling. It was quite fascinating, or boring, or in the process of melting on my face and destroying the WOOOOOORLD!
The thought just escaped me for a second. No, the ceiling was still solid rock, painted in an elegant recreation of the time the Diamond Dogs tribe first came toward the Princess. Man, those were some long and tedious negotiations. Luckily for everyone, in 231 after Unification, Chancellor Smooth Transition came up with the Surface and Underground Accord.
So that was probably why there were tunnels depicted on the ceiling, and in those tunnels a few hundred billions living things. No, not on the painting itself, but on the surface. On the rock, if someone were to lean in closer, just a little closer, and look, with precision beyond any other living creature, they would see the world of the infinitely small abound. From what I could tell, the acidithiobacillus ferrooxidans in there was slowly taking over the world.
With a disheartened pout, I fell back on the shelf. Conflict was everywhere. Except here, between those two ponies that were just talking about some unimportant thing like the trade of a product I’ve forgotten the name of.
Was this all my new life would amount to? Interminable meetings after interminable meetings after witty banter with a jackass prince?
Well, my suffering for this one meeting might be soon coming to an end, for Silk Trade finally reacted.
“Hmmm,” she ‘hmmm’ed thoughtfully, casting her eyes over some strange scribbling that was possibly written words. “Yes, yes, I see my complaints were taken at heart here.”
With an exaggerated motion, she picked a quill and held a hoof to her heart. Then, a spotlight appeared out of nowhere to shine light upon her tragically posed form. To help with the ambiance, Lisa Lizard, that talented revenant from the depths of my mind, took out a very small violin.
Silk Trade smirked at Blue Prince of Blood, and spoke with a bleeding heart – which logically meant she had internal damage. “After the new law had come to pass, it was simply impossible for my family to keep its business afloat without appropriate new deals. It would have been ruinous to follow an accord that was created when the situation was still under much better control. This was necessary to protect my family name… You understand, don't you?”
The very instant Silk Something had turned the question on him however, Lisa exploded in a very untragic display of violin.
In a flagrantly sincere show of compassion, Silk Trade then placed her hoof over her mouth to not hide a smile. “Oh, my apologies, perhaps not yet.”
Blueblood’s magic flickered. The inkpot he had been taking out of his desk fell flat just next to the scroll.
Yet, he did not apologize for his blunder, the bastard. He just kept a tight smile on his face. “I assure you that I am well aware of the necessity of those new deals, Lady Silk Trade. As you have said, I took your criticisms to heart and was able to smooth over a few of the bumps that come with new legislation. The Royal Crown would of course not want to put the fortunes of its greatest noble families in danger with silly things like Equitable Treatment laws.”
“How privileged do those peasants want to be,” she sighed a long suffering sigh and applied the quill to the paper. “Next thing they want, I will be forced to sell my family's ancestral lands.”
“It would be a great tragedy if the House Tussah were to lose its tertiary home, indeed,” Blueblood agreed stiffly.
The mare seemed to seize on what little compassion he had. “You understand, don't you? The trouble of wondering if your legacy will continue after you. To see if the family name will go on after you, yourself, are too old and beaten by the hardships to live. There is always one thing needed.”
Despite a subtle impulse of backing away, Blueblood only nodded, though his tone reminded me of somepony doing an eyeroll. “Of course, which is why one must make sure that such ancestries are compatible.”
“Of course, of course,” she said condescendingly, placing the quill on the paper, though without writing her signature yet. “It is so important to find a good mate, otherwise the foals will be weak and unworthy of their titles.”
There was a moment of silence, a pause during which I started to see where she was going with that. No way…
“Surely, you must have given it thought,” she added with a knowing tone. “Why, I have heard many a mare declaring they would elevate themselves to such high ranks.”
Blueblood smoothly transitioned away from that topic, regaining full use of the hoof she had seized. “Most of those mares would be unable to do so in the first place, or come from families trying to reclaim lost wealth. Hardly fitting mothers.”
“Of course.” Silk Trade agreed a tad too quickly for me. “The ability to nurture an acceptable heir is much too precious to overlook. I would know. My first daughter, Spinning Wheel, has only had the best tutors to refine her mind, and my example to follow as a noble lady. And my son, Mulberry, is already growing up to be a great fencer. Why, a foal you might have had, hypothetically of course, would have been the perfect companion for them.”
Blueblood’s eyes grew steely. However, the lady was too into her boasting to realize it.
“Had you sired an heir…”
A voice from above startled her out of it. My voice, a mixture of old age and youth, feminine and masculine, smooth and raspy and worry, politely interrupted. “Excuse me.”
With something resembling grace, I swooped down from my perch and landed just next to the negotiation table. Probably not all that gracefully though, ‘cause she yelped at the sight. Sheepish, I gave her a wide smile to apologize.
For some reason, Lady Silk Trade had grown pale.
Blueblood spoke from behind me, at the end of his patience. “Do you have a question, Havoc?”
Boy, did I have one…
Closing in on the kind middle-aged mare, I grinned. “Yup. I do have a little question.”
“Y-yes?" she stuttered, leaning back into her seat.
Savoring the moment, I looked at them both, one at a time ‘cause my eyes weren’t that good, and traced a little heart in the air. “Are you trying to seduce Blueblood?”
Things went still. The air stopped moving, nopony breathed even a little bit, and Miss Trade’s fur had turned pure white.
Then, Blueblood’s reasonable voice cut through the silence. “Not at all, Honest. Lady Silk Trade is happily married to a wonderful stallion whom I respect immensely.”
Indignant, I turned toward him, only to see that he had an easy smile on his face, and twitches on the corner of his mouth made him seem like he was just barely not rolling on the floor laughing.
Oh no, he would not get out of it so easily! “But she was talking all about how she's got a wonderful family life,” I protested.
And pointed a claw straight at her. “And that she's a good matriarch.”
But since that was not enough for the prince, I went on, “And that you need to find a great mare to marry and have an heir. Like her.”
With a fraternal nudge, I incensed the poor starstruck mare to nod. “See?”
Satisfied, I then crossed my forelegs over my chest, having demonstrate my point with impeccable logic.
Though, I might have been too convincing, for Silk Trade suddenly protested to avoid coming off as hitting on Blueblood too strongly. “That is preposterous! I-I would never marry the prince!”
Suddenly suspicious, I narrowed my eyes at her and circled around her very beautiful chair. “Huh, you wouldn't? But he is so dreamy. I hate his guts, but he's dreamy. As in, panty exploding dreamy. So what's wrong with him?"
But, Blueblood, the bastard, wouldn’t let her get over her stage fright and tried to ‘smooth’ things over. The nerve! “I believe it lies in the fact that she is already married.”
Weakly raising a hoof, the poor mare shook her head to contradict him.
“It was a very sudden question. It is only natural for ponies to be caught off guard by something like that.”
“Nonsense!” I shouted, and made my way up to Blueblood’s own seat. Looking Silk Trade deep in the eyes, I closed my claws over the prince’s chin and lifted his head to show off his profile. “Look at this muscled bound stallion. Look, and tell me he isn’t the most sensual thing since Celestia herself! Imagine him looking at you with desire and asking you to be his for a night of passionate love!”
Silk Trade went beet red. Finally, a breakthrough! Now, all that’s left is to – huh?
A shiny blue cloud pulled on my leg. And my shoulder. And my entire body. The tingling sensation spread all over, but without the power to make me laugh. How could I when Blueblood was denying me and making me float away from his dreamy chin?
“Thank you, Havoc, but that's enough.”
My jaw dropped at the injustice at hooves here. “But she didn't even say anything!”
As if motivated by my encouragements, Lady Silk Trade growled, red in the face, “P-Prince Blueblood! This is all extremely inappropriate!” She huffed, closing her clothes over her body. “I... I came here to sign a deal... N-not listen to such assumptions about private matters!”
Awww, I thought, my ears drooping down. Too strong.
“And for that I apologize, no one is questioning your loyalty to your husband,” he said those last words with a glare in my direction.
I scoffed. So did the ungrateful smitten mare.
“Let us simply sign this.”
And as she said, she did, frowning all the while her quill scribbled on the parchment. When a graceful and strangely alluring signature had been placed on the bottom of the agreement, she passed it back to Blueblood, who hurriedly put it away in a drawer of his desk.
“I wish you a good day, Prince,” she said with one last glare in our general direction.
A few more seconds and she was far gone. We heard her voice go through the dimensional barrier of the wall, and it sounded somewhat hysterical.
Damn Blueblood and his standards.
“Sooo,” I said slowly, “that went well.”
“Not as good as I had hoped...” my handler sighed. “Next time, please refrain from commenting on a perceived crush during a business meeting...”
“But she kept making those comments, it was so obvious!”
He shook his head once, looking at the wooden door as if it would summon back the noble lady. “She wasn't hitting on me, she was implying that I was doing my family a disservice by remaining unwed.”
Too unbelievable. He was doing a great service to the world by not reproducing, in my humble insane opinion. “Naaaah, she was definitely about to kiss you.”
His frown deepened, and his voice came out sharper than before. “Even if she had been, it was still inappropriate to mention it, at least in a business setting. Much more important decisions than my love life must take place in here, do you understand?”
“So why did she mention it? Is there like two rules for two ponies? T'was appropriate for her to say?”
For some reason, Blueblood’s eyes widened as he looked at me. He seemed almost… shocked, and I noticed that his ears twitched.
“She…” He coughed, seemingly regaining his composure. “She said it because she's a busybody who likes to try and make me uncomfortable to try and get a better deal. It never works, and no, it's not appropriate for her to mention either.”
I blinked.
“So why'd you apologize then?”
His lips pursed as if he’d bitten a bitter lemon. “Because her family has a near complete monopoly on the silk trade. We could go with someone else... but it is a very good idea not to offend her. Why she feels that she can offend me I don't know.”
I could not help but groan, then climb the window shill while contemplating a daring jump into the unknown. “Ah, politics?” Barely suppressing a whimper, I frowned at the magnificent city of Canterlot. “I would have thought ponies were gentler than that."
A sigh echoed my melancholy. “If only... but ponies are far from gentle, Havoc.”
Knowing a lie when I heard one, I twisted as does a top, practicing my imitation of my favorite pony, and becoming one with the floor. When that tidbit was complete, I picked one of his hoof in my own and lifted it in clear display. “But look at this cutesy hoof, Blueblood. You’re not going to puncture anything with it. And don’t get me started on your teeth. They're flat!”
Satisfied with my argument, I grinned and let go of his leg. “So how are you not gentle?”
Blueblood left eyebrow went up. “Hooves can do damage, an earth pony soldier can shatter boulders with a single kick. Pegasi can create tornadoes and make lightning strike others. And even the most basic of unicorn spells, levitation, can hurl ponies off cliffs or into sharp objects...”
He paused, giving my mind ample time to come up with a few images. They were rather bloody, and, all in all, somewhat scary. Thus, discreetly, I ran my tongue over my lips.
“And there are crueler things than that,” Blueblood’s eyes darted to the window. “Politics are not nice, no matter what race you're from.”
“No matter the race?” I perked up. “So, like, dragons and minotaurs have politics? And it’s as nasty as pony politics?”
“Yes,” he said with absolute certainty. No hesitation in that stallion.
The tip of my claws ran over the fur of my chin. “So are there draconicorn politics?”
“I'm afraid not.” He shook his head, speaking a bit more clearly. “You're the only one of your kind known to exist, thank Celestia.”
Grinning, I let out a sinister chuckle. “Thus, I make the rules for the species. Got it. My tyranny will know no bounds!”
“I’m sure it will give shivers to all those other draconicorns under your rule,” he deadpanned, turning to look at his papers.
Ah, the fool did not know what I was capable of. First, prisons would be destroyed, the statues would be harmonized, then there would be ritualistic dancing to give our offering to the inventor of pudding. After that, the world would fall on its knees, or circumferential axis, or heck, its orbital gravity. I wasn’t picky. Yes… YES! A perfect plan!
“Havoc, do you mind not laughing like that? It creates a very unsettling atmosphere for me to work in.”
“Awww, but I’m so good at it!” I whined.
“Well, stop it.” He stamped something on a puddle of hot wax, then gently blew on it. “Once I am finished with this paperwork, we will be doing a quick tour of the palace. I would rather make sure you don’t get lost on a daily basis. After all, I must only keep you within eyesight within the castle.”
“Huh, so if I take your eyes, I can go anywhere?”
Blueblood’s head snapped at me, his whole body suddenly tense. His muscles all rolled under his coat, and he quickly glanced at the door. “No… That is not what it means at all,” he growled, but I noticed a faint weakness in his tone. “It means that you must stay in the same room as me, with the sole exception of private matters, whether on your part or mine. However, you do not need to be within my immediate vicinity.”
“But I’ll get lost!” I shouted with horror. “I’ll end up outside the castle without meaning to!”
Letting out a sigh of relief, he returned to his papers. “That's what guards are for.”
Oh, he just didn’t get it, did he?! “I don't even know if I would notice!”
A pile of scrolls stopped in midair, held by his blue magic. “...You wouldn't notice that you were outside the palace?”
“The guards.” I rolled my eyes at him. How could one be so oblivious? “Like, how am I supposed to know they're there?"
“You'll know, they will not remain quiet.”
An evil idea struck me. Curling up, I clapped my hoof and my paw together, all the while looking for a way to get a record company to get their material in the same room as me. “I seeeeee...”
Blueblood’s eyes narrowed on me. “We both get in trouble if you go too far outside the distance.”
I giggled. “Is that dissuasive or persuasive?"
“Luna will hear about it.”
My heart sank in my chest, and all desires to laugh were gone in that same breath.
“Luna.”
Shaking, I looked down on the floor, trying to ignore my griffon leg for a second. It was one of the unnatural parts of me. The… err… chaotic parts, that made me so akin to a monster. The one that was reflected in that hard, blue gaze. It might as well have been shouted at me.
“She loves me, doesn't she?” I croaked. “After I declared my love to her, she forgave me... I mean, we talked, I explained, apologized and she stopped hating me, r-right?”
Blueblood was without pity. “I'm fairly sure that never happened.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how sure?"
“Havoc, it did not happen,” he said sternly. “Luna has never approached you directly after your arrest. She was the judge of your trial, she had to be as impartial as possible and not let her sentiments get in the way of the verdict. If she had… I suspect it would have been a great deal direr for you.”
With that, with the confirmation that my dreams were going up in smoke, I gently lowered myself to the ground. Despite my best effort, I whimpered. “There goes my place as a New Lunar Republic general...”
Without enthusiasm, I ran a claw over the floor, humming that glorious soundtrack.
“...Luna, Republic?” Blueblood slowly repeated my words, and didn’t even get it right!
“You wouldn't understand!” I sobbed.
An awkward hoof patted my shoulder, with all the effect of an ant fighting an elephant. My pain was so much greater than that stupid analogy!
“T-there's this epic thing going on in-between the loyalists and the rebels, and the two have really great combat music, and you kinda have to be one or the other or find the whole deal stupid!”
“...What?”
“Didn't I tell you you wouldn't understand?!” I wailed, hoping that someone cool like Madame Bucket would come to console me. Alas, she was DEAAAAAD! “Nopony will ever understand!”
“Well, you're not explaining very well,” Blueblood growled in annoyance.
Something clicked in my head. Just for a second. The choking sensation around my throat died out, and the fog in my mind cleared out. Then came the fire.
Standing up, glaring, I bared my fangs. “The important thing is that my idol hates my guts! There! Was that easier for you?!"
The words rang shrill, stretching out in the last dregs of silence between us. Blueblood’s ears had flattened on top of his head, and he had winced. My breathing was labored.
It had all gone into that shout, I felt spend, each of my limbs almost dragging into the ground.
Prince Blueballs grimaced, his tail flicking. “Why don't we go get something to eat?”
“Yeah… okay…” I said without energy.
--
Some brave soul forced a handkerchief on my face, after the puddle of drool on the ground had unfortunately caused somepony to slip. Boy, had that been an awkward thing. Even more awkward when it had taken three tries and a slap on my rump to get me out of my daze.
The Royal Kitchen was beautiful!
Oh, how to describe it, other than the place where artisans met the most sublime tools in a dance of angels over a fiery hell? Three cooks to the dish washing station under the sky, seven to the prepping in their halls of stone, nine to the veggie cooks, so corruptible and tempted by power, and one head chef to rule them all, bring them together and in the darkness, bind them.
And it was on that march of higher beings that Blueblood and I had intruded. I would be almost ashamed, if not for the growing beast in my guts calling for blood and flesh to be fed with. Celestia, the smells in this place…
I sighed like a schoolfilly in love.
Blueblood shot me a bizarre look, one eyebrow higher than the other, as he turned from his conversation with the Lord of the Kitchen.
“Chef Ram’s Head has agreed to cook an extra meal for the two of us. He knows my taste, but not yours. So, how do you want your meat?”
I opened my mouth, already fantasizing about the bloo-
“Still breathing is not an option,” Blueblood added quickly.
Pouting, I rolled my eyes and instead tried to stay positive. My tongue was just working overtime in order to taste all that delicious scent in the air. Oh, just the smell of the raw meat in the back of the kitchen was making me shiver! “Can they do raw? Or blue? Or tartare?”
“All of the above. But blue is not me,” he said with quite a bit of savviness.
“Really? I thought for a sec it was named after you.” I put my claw to my chin and narrowed my eyes at him. “Like, you do eat meat, right?”
“....When it is impolite to refuse, yes, I do.” He nodded, his gaze lost in a memory for a split second before he shook his head and went back to me. “However a pony’s digestive system is not made for meat. Blue meat implies that it has a sear on the outside but that's it. It's a cold steak.”
Just then, while Blue-the-evil-temptress listed off the definition of heaven, I felt something stir inside of me. Something bestial…
“Raw meat is not generally served by the Royal Kitchen. Unless you are indeed speaking of a steak tartare, which is raw meat with an appropriate mix of vegetables and spice to heighten up the flavor.”
A shiver of sheer desire inched its way over my spine. Oh, oh no, stop talking, vile serpent of Eden!
“Of course, Chef Ram’s Head has mastered all those techniques and many more over his years as a cook. Every griffon ambassador we have had over the years has, however reluctantly, said that the meat was always claw-licking good. Why, I remember Geralder, a particularly picky eater who just gave away his dignity in front of his marinated pork ribs–”
The threshold was walked over by his seductive words, and the dam burst. In one magnificent, ears-splitting loud roar, the kitchen froze over. It was not just a simple roar, but the cry of a hungry beast a thousand miles long, with fangs sharper than the finest blade, with a stomach larger than Canterlot itself, with anger at being unfed and all the intent to sate this terrible emptiness in its guts. One would have likened it to a manticore or a hydra, to a dragon elder of its line or the great serpent swimming under the sea and waiting the death of the gods. One still would have given it no equal, and prayed for the survival of the world.
A long silence followed, oppressive and covering them all in sweat and fear. The cry still rang to their ears, would keep them awake for long nights in the dark.
Sheepish, I moved my paw to my belly and scratched it, feeling heat all over my face at the dozens stares I was getting. At the very least, the many that had fainted could not see how embarrassed I was.
“Sorry,” I said, “my stomach growled.”
“What did you want to eat?” Blueblood asked with a voice so high pitched it sounded like a filly.
Shrugging, I gave a winning smile to the head chef. “One of each?”
With any luck… It is kind of unreasonable, of course…
“ONE OF EACH MEAT DISHES WE HAVE!” Chef Ram’s Head bellowed with a voice that could have cowered Discord. “EXPRESS!”
They ran like the wind and started cooking at a speed beyond the limits of mere mortal. I knew then, that Rainbow Dash’s Sonic Rainboom was the stuff of legends for pegasi, but this was what earth pony athletes dreamt of.
This admiration of their zeal of mine was however cut short when a bout of telekinesis yanked me by the neck to drag me over. Judging by the speed we were going at, Blueblood had been inspired by their incredible dedication and generosity.
I know, Blueblood, I know, I thought toward the snobbish guy. Hay, even he could have his nice moments. Even if they involved pulling me by the neck to show me the way to a private dining hall.
Strangely, as we entered the small adjacent room, we heard the throbbing hoofsteps of a dozen ponies rushing to the kitchen. Added to that the clank of metals and the loud military commands, and there was one big mystery for me to ponder.
Blueblood, on the other hoof, merely kept his head up high, pretending his hoof wasn’t shaking against the table and making his richly decorated goblet jump on the white tablecloth.
Oh well, his loss. I would figure it out by myself, once lunch was over. Because still my nostrils tingled with the smell of spice and blood and it was making my tail swish back and forth. “The kitchen ponies are all really nice!”
“They…” Blueblood’s voice cracked, prompting him to pat his barrel and clear his throat. “They are. I’ve talked to them many times before for similar emergencies and they were always accommodating.”
He broke into a rare smile, eying the Royal Kitchen with something similar to… fondness.
He didn’t say anything else, but I noticed his goblet had stopped dancing.
Shrugging, I stretched myself into a better position, lying on my stomach across the few cushions laid by the table. It was rather comfortable, if I was allowed to judge, for the touch against my fur-covered body was light and so much better than my prison cell. Damn that wooden plank for a bed I had had to use.
Why hadn’t they told me I only had one mattress? I wasn’t that good with numbers.
Ah, but what is done is done by another, and only a god can do better or change the course of time… Maybe. Discord had taught me this one. Maybe. Or a friend I had thought up during my time as a lawn ornament. Why, I had gotten a good number of skills fully designated to help kill time. Humming was my choice for this pre-meal moment. And with enough talent to get Blueblood to stare. Score for me!
But all of that was insignificant in comparison to the moment a dying pony entered the room, panting, with a tray of meat dishes in one hoof. White as a sheet, sweating bullets like a frog in the rain, the earth pony teenager trotted slowly toward my seat. In one swoop motion, he collapsed, falling on a lavish blue cushion and dropping the plates in front of me.
I needed no other signal.
I feasted on those fallen corpses and their flavor enhancers with the ferocity of a pack of timberwolves. And then some. Within, the monster started to drown in a sea of half-digested pieces of meat, delicious, sweet, perfectly cooked, juicy meat.
Besides me, the colt was still trying to catch his breath after his valiant sacrifice. “Just… just a few more minutes, Blueblood.”
In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the prince calmly rising his goblet to his lips and replying with a benign tone, “Take your time, Fast Chop.”
Had I not been in delicious-gasm-tastic foodville, I might have been taken aback. But I was, so I lunged unto a particularly arrogant rack of ribs. “Betcha too chicken to try and eat me,” it said.
“I’ll show you!” I yelled and sank my fangs into the flesh, crushing everything under my jaws.
And the battle began anew between the forces of evil and madness. Only one would win, the other would be dead, and since the meat was already dead, I had a slight chance of victory. Listening only to my courage, I swallowed the meatloaf and the shish kebabs at the same time, falling over on my back.
After that, it was kind of a haze of red and delights.
“…I will hazard the guess that you liked it,” said somepony pompous.
Blinking rapidly, I looked up, rubbing at the blood on my everywhere. Blueblood had a handkerchief wrapped around his neck and a fork half-levitated to his mouth. And half his body looked red to me.
“Yeah, I loved it. Did I win?”
Blueblood, because he was indifferent to the fate of the world, only said, “If I knew what you are talking about in the slightest, I would be able to answer you.”
“Nevermind.” I sat up, burping loudly. “Pretty sure that was the last I’ll see of my enemy.”
“Charming,” Blueblood said, scrunching up his nose. “You are truly an example of manners and–”
He stopped, suddenly looking behind me.
Before I could check it out myself, a pegasus mare ran past me and kneeled before him.
“My Prince. Forgive me for the interruption, but it is an emergency.”
Without protesting, the prince’s magic wrapped around his collar and untied the handkerchief. It floated away to the table, over his plate in what looked to me like a surrender of his meal. “It's alright, Quill, we were just finished.”
Nailed it.
For a second, the mare hesitated, then glanced at me. As a good mutant gentlecolt, I waved and smiled as kindly as possible. It startled her.
“Don't mind him,” Blueblood said, “focus on me.”
“Yes, my Prince.” She nodded and unfolded her right wing. At the tip, a scroll of sort hung. “The Nightmare's Foals have heard of our operation and barricaded themselves in their headquarters.”
She paused, letting the prince’s magic catch the missive and unroll it in front of his eyes. Then, obeying some sort of signal I could not see, she spoke up again.
“With at least a dozen hostages.”
The words fell heavily into the room, and completely changed the dynamic of what was happening.
And little me? Not a clue. My mind came up with a blank.
Everything sort of… tumbled down in rapid fire.
“Where?” asked Blueblood.
“Downtown Canterlot, the building previously used by the Heavy Claw gang.”
A single sigh, then… “Of course it would be that one...”
For some reason, the pegasus looked away. “The Guard is gathered outside the building, but don't want to risk attacking without a mean of quickly neutralizing the threat to the hostages. The commander has requested your immediate help.”
“I figured as much...”
He stood up quickly, throwing the silverware on the table with a resounding ‘cliiing’.
“Thank you, Quill. Is there anything else?”
The mare shook her head quickly.
“Excellent.” The prince turned back to me. “Come, Havoc, it's time to work. We have a hostage situation to defuse.”
On those words, Blueblood started galloping toward the doors, and I could only follow with the most dumbfounded of looks on my face.
…Huh?
--
Observatory Journal, by Prince Leon Polaris Blueblood.
Entry # 2
Despite my conviction that he is in fact quite mad, Havoc has shown that he at least is able to observe and read emotional cues. I believe it is when it comes to interpreting this information that the process becomes shambled. There might be something to do with him yet.
However, a much greater control of his mouth will be necessary before anything even resembling diplomacy can be attempted again. For the moment, I will redirect my tasks to account for this. More observations will be needed to truly find the right way to handle him.
P.S. Keep Havoc well-fed at all times. Always.
…Celestia’s beard… I’ll never be able to sleep again.