A Much Expected Gathering
Ponyville General wasn’t the largest hospital in Equestria. It didn’t have the latest equipment, or the most skilled surgeons, or any real specialization. General, it’s in the name.
What it did have was the absolute best team of emergency responders on the entire planet. The weekly crises in Ponyville added up to a lot of emergencies, which led to a lot of responding. It was said that they were able to bring an injured pony to the hospital before the timberwolf had finished licking its lips.
Thankfully, the timberwolf attack statistics were at an all-time low.
Ponyville General also shared fairly close proximity to Winsome Falls, where Blueblood had found himself in a pickle following his adventure to another world. It was their emergency response team that responded, and it was there that Blueblood went for subsequent checkups. When asked why he went there instead of Canterlot Health, he mentioned something about convenience.
So it was he found himself sitting in a small examination room, being examined by one Nurse Redheart, Princess of Hospice.
Blueblood didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help but wince as the bandages around his middle came unwrapped.
“You’re fine, the healing process is almost finished,” Nurse Redheart said.
Blueblood shifted his butt cheeks and listened to the crinkle of the paper-thingy-whatchamacallit placed upon the sterile examination table. He felt even more naked than usual, sitting in the confines of Dr. Fine’s examination room. He had not even a bowtie to grace his muscular, alabaster form.
In contrast to his nudity, Nurse Redheart had a red-cross-bedecked hat set upon her pink mane. Her own porcelain coat ruffled as she tossed the used bandages into the disposal. “The bruises are gone, it looks like.”
It was there that the author ran out of words to use instead of “white.”
She raised her horn and levitated not only the thermometer, but the devices to examine his ears, hooves, and blood-pressure as well. “You know the drill. I take your temperature, you decide how.”
Blueblood begrudgingly opened his mouth.
“It sounds like Dr. Fine is going to X-ray your ribs,” Redheart said with a smile. The band wrapped around his foreleg, and she started to pump it full of air. “You are very possibly going home with a clean slate”
An unexpected bark of laughter parted his lips and sent the thermometer flying. Redheart stared after it with a frown. “You’d better not have done that on purpose. Again.”
“I swear I didn’t! I just…” Blueblood bowed his head under her glare. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
Redheart blinked at his submissive expression. “Okay, something’s eating you, and this time it isn’t the possibility of a thermometer… elsewhere. You wanna talk about it?”
A swift and brief pursing of his lips followed. “Maybe…” He shook his head. “Maybe later. I’ll let you do your job.”
She peeked through an instrument into his ear as she inflated the blood-pressure thingamabob. “Does that mean you’re stopping by the Keen Bean later?”
“Yy—” Blueblood sighed. “I suppose I owe that to myself, at the very least.” He raised his eyes to her. “Will everypony be there, do you think?”
The blood-pressure-sensor-reader-doohickey reached its goal and deflated. Redheart looked at the gauge, then jotted down the number on her floating notepad. “I’m sure I can round up a few of the regulars. Do you have some sort of announcement?”
“You might say that,” he muttered. He paused as a clean thermometer was plopped into his mouth. He held silent until it had done its irony, metallically tangy work. “Redheart, what do you do when you are comman—asked—to do something that you have absolutely no desire to do, nor even the skill?”
The dance of the medical instruments held in Redheart’s grasp paused. Her eyebrows arched as she turned to him, her lips small as she pondered just what to say.
“Hypothetically speaking, of course,” Blueblood insisted.
“Okay then,” Redheart said with a roll of her eyes. “Hypothetically.” She took a step closer to him and tilted her head. “Hypothetically, the only thing I could do is… get help?”
He sneered before the contempt fully entered his mind. “Get help?”
“Well, what do you want me to say?” Redheart asked. She waved a hoof in the air as she gathered up her various tools. “‘Well, your Highness, I saved face and just did everything myself! It ended horribly, but I kept my pride!’”
He snickered mirthlessly. “I think you’re more of a ‘Highness’ here than I am, Princess of Hospice.”
“Well, then.” Redheart raised her snout into the air. “By the power invested in my by wont of being an alicorn princess, I command you to hypothetically seek out help for your hypothetical problem!”
A smirk found its way onto his visage. “I think that’s ‘the power vested in me,’ but I shall renege my nitpick.”
Redheart’s wry smile accompanied her to the exit. “Anyway, Dr. Fine will be along soon to check your ribs. See you at the Bean?”
He nodded. “I’ll be there, no worries.” He licked his lips as she shut the door. “No worries at all.”
***
Spike the Dragon opened the door and admitted the soggy alicorn prince standing outside. “Hurry in, before the wind decides to reorganize the library!”
Blueblood resisted the deeply-rooted urge to shake himself off. He doffed his overcoat and hung it up beside the fire burning in the library’s small hearth. He once again mused at the oddness of a fire inside a library inside a tree, but the answer was, as always, “magic.”
He straightened his beloved blue bowtie and nodded to Spike. “Good day, how are you?”
“Fine,” Spike replied. “Twilight hasn’t turned me into a potted plant recently, at least.”
“Hmm, sometimes I wouldn’t put it past her,” Blueblood muttered.
“But hey, have a seat,” Spike said as he walked to the kitchen. “I’ll get you some hot cocoa until Twilight gets back.”
“Thank you, I’d be much obliged.” Blueblood settled into a comfy armchair and levitated a nearby book to himself. “Hmm, Luna Loved? Sounds like a cruddy romance novel.” He examined the cover further and raised an eyebrow. “Written by Hobby Horse? I do like his work…”
By the time Spike returned with the drinks, Blueblood was holding back little sniffles. The dragon peeked at the cover of the book and nodded. “Decent, but I’m not too sure if it’s all that accurate about dreamhopping.”
“Search me,” Blueblood said, closing the book as he did so. “I’ve only hopped once, and I hardly think it was an exemplary trip.”
“Yeah?” Spike asked. He took a mug for himself and sat opposite the prince. “What happened?”
Blueblood took a small sip as his brow wrinkled. “Luna and I fought a Nightmare.”
“Whoa,” Spike said. He cradled his cup closer. “Like, Nightmare Moon kinda Nightmare?”
“Similar, but not quite.” Blueblood levitated another book to his side. “Night Terrors aren’t so much possessive as they are concerned with keeping their victim locked up in an eternal bad dream.”
Spike nodded, turning his attention back to his mug of cocoa. “Whose dream was it?”
“Lady Rarity of Pony—” Blueblood was cut off by a deluge of brown liquid as it coursed across the space between himself and Spike. A shield of brilliant purple caught the displaced cocoa before it could ruin the books, the varnished table, or Blueblood’s pristine coat.
Twilight Sparkle stood soaking in the entryway, her horn sparkling as she lowered the sprayed cocoa into Spike’s mug. Her recently-ineffectual umbrella folded itself up and tipped over into the cylindrical holder beside the door with one motion. She fluffed out her feathers and giggled. “Boy, when the pegasi say a storm’s brewing, they don’t mess around.”
She trotted over and gave Spike a pat on the back. “So, is it alright if I ask what caused Spike here to spew chocolate in shock?”
“Rarity got attacked by a Night Terror,” the dragon whispered. His eyes narrowed. “Where is it? Where’d it go?”
“It’s well in hoof,” Blueblood said. “Princess Luna blasted it to ethereal little bits. It was carted back to…”—he swallowed—“to Tartarus the following day.”
“Good,” Spike said. A dark cloud hovered metaphorically over his head. He stood and took Blueblood’s empty cup. “I’ll get the cups washed.”
“Is Rarity alright?” Twilight danced a little on her hooves, looking expectantly at Blueblood.
“I think she’ll be fine after a visit from her friends.” He shifted his eyes upwards. “Must be difficult, having come so soon after her rebirth as Nightmare Rarity.”
“You’ve got that right,” Twilight murmured.
“So,” Blueblood said with some degree of hesitance. He bit his lower lip. “Do you mind if I ask what kept you? I thought we had an appointment.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “Huh? How late is it?” A quick glance at a nearby grandfather clock sent her moaning. “Ooh, horseapples. I’m sorry, Blueblood, I lost track of time.”
She removed her dripping poncho and placed it on a rack to dry. “I was… in the middle of testing my new invention. That magic mirror network I told you about?”
Blueblood nodded. “The ones that are geared towards communication, rather than transportation?”
“Yup. I guess I was so focused on, um, my invention that…” She shrugged. “You know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite alright, Twilight.” He stood and made his way over to her. “I was just concerned. In my own way.”
Twilight brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Well, thanks. I just managed to get the connection to the Crystal Empire working before I left.”
He blew a puff of air between his lips. “Speaking with your beau, I presume.”
“Ahuh!” she cheerfully replied. “I think we’ll be ready to start production on the mirrors next week.”
A smile dinged its way onto his face. “And the week after that, we can sell our first batch of Automated Servants, am I correct?”
“I think we’ve worked out the bugs!” Twilight chuckled. “Friendship reports loaded, Come to Life spell reinvented, materials purchased. All we need is to ship off the blueprint.”
“Perfect,” Blueblood muttered. “Perfect time for me to leave the business.”
“What.” Twilight’s face, for a brief moment, was devoid of any sort of emotion. That didn’t last long, as it was then overtaken by a rolling storm cloud of rage. “WHAT!?”
Her wings flared as she pressed a hoof into his chest, pushing him backwards. “There is no way, no way, that you’re pulling out of the business now! Not now that we’ve invested so much time and effort into getting Bluelight Special off of the ground! Not after all the money we’ve spent on these robots! Not—”
“Twilight! Let me explain!” Blueblood screeched. “I’m not pulling out! I’m giving my half to you!”
Rage became confusion. “What?”
“Twilight, I’m…” He sighed. “I’m… going away. Very soon. I am taking on a yoke that is, honestly, not in the public knowledge just yet, so I would appreciate it if you kept it secret.”
Twilight nodded and motioned for him to continue.
“An old family promise—oath, really—has called me to Tartarus to become its new warden.” He moved to the comfy armchair and sat upon it.
“But… but this whole thing started because of your idea.” Twilight sat in the chair next to his and fidgeted with her hooves. “You can’t just give it up now.”
“I’m not going to be requiring my half of the business while I’m there.” He gave her a grin, which on a scale of one to ten was about a point five in sincerity. “I want you to have it.”
Her eyes darted between her hooves and his face. “When will you be back?”
“I…” he sighed. “I’m going to be the warden. I’m not coming back.”
Twilight fell quiet. To an outside observer, there was no sign of life anywhere in the purple alicorn’s body. But within, there was a rolling cauldron of thoughts, schemes, machinations…
“So, is this goodbye?” she asked, her voice level.
“It’s certainly, ah—” Blueblood rubbed his eyes with a fetlock. “It’s very nearly one.”
She ran a hoof over her foreleg, her eyes downcast. “It doesn’t quite seem fair.”
“N—” The agreement died a deathly death on his lips. A fire lit inside his heart. His mouth scrunched up and he nodded swiftly to himself. “Twilight, before I must leave, I want you to know that I lo—”
The final word was but a sigh. As Twilight looked intently at him, giving him her full attention, he caught sight of a flash of orange over her shoulder. A small picture frame held the image of Twilight Sparkle and an orange-coated, blue-maned pegasus stallion embracing. The fire flickered out and his shoulders slumped.
“I want you to know that I will cherish our friendship forever.”
He let out a gasp of surprise as she wrapped her forelegs around his neck. He quite slowly and hesitantly returned the hug, a smile begging to make an appearance on his face. His heavy heart said otherwise.
“I will, too,” she said. “But I’m gonna cherish it by not letting it go away. I’m gonna find out what’s behind this, Blueblood. I’m gonna help you fix it.”
Blueblood pulled away, his eyebrows knitting. “Twilight, it’s an oath. There’s nothing you can help me with.”
A shiver went down his spine as he watched her eyes narrow. “Try me.”
A tense moment slipped by, before Spike returned with a question. “Hey, weren’t you guys gonna see that robot tonight?”
“Ladies first,” Blueblood chuckled weakly.
They trotted down the stairs, Spike in tow, and soon came upon the robot; the very same that had been the cause of Blueblood’s ascension so long ago. The woodwork legs gleamed with polish, the ruby heart beat softly, and the emerald eyes gazed searchingly for command.
“We never did teach it to burp,” Spike lamented.
“Heh!” Blueblood tapped the robot’s chest with his horn. “Artificial Servant number one, are you capable of rude noises and gestures?”
“Anything for you, baby,” the robot said in a low voice.
“Ack!” Twilight Sparkle leapt between Blueblood and the robot and tapped her horn against its chest. “Sorry. Just a little leftover programming. Nothing to worry about. Still testing. Won’t be on the blueprint. I swear.”
Blueblood only just managed to hold back a snicker, while Spike held back a gag. “Fair enough,” the prince said. “Though it might be worth it just to hear the talk around Canterlot about ‘Blueblood’s salacious new robots: hot, hot, hot off the assembly line…’”
His mouth moved quietly. “Well, worth it for you to hear, I suppose.”
“You know what?” Twilight Sparkle spoke before another word could leave Blueblood’s throat. “Even if you’re leaving for just a little while, which you will be, we need some sort of shindig. Some sort of ‘going away’ party.”
“I was actually planning on going to the Keen Bean one last time.” Blueblood shrugged. “Would you accompany me?”
“Of course,” Twilight replied. “It’ll be a great place to plan out your real party!”
Blueblood blinked. “Real party?”
“And, what do you know?” Twilight asked. “It just so happens that I know a certain somepony that’s coming tonight who can help us out with that!”
***
Pinkie Pie sat under the Ponyville train station’s awning, humming a wordless song to herself. Well, actually, it was just a song she hadn’t written lyrics for, so it was only technically wordless. If she really put her mind to it, she was certain that she could think up a few stanzas, but her thoughts found themselves occupied elsewhere.
The ticket master trotted out of his office, keen on finding his way home for the night. He spotted the pink-on-pink-on-pink mare sitting inside the station, apparently keeping her eyes on the horizon. He scratched beneath his hat and made his way over.
His moustache wiggled as he spoke. “Miss Pie? The last train to Canterlot left an hour ago. There ain’t no more trains.”
“That’s okay,” she replied without looking at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His moustache bristled with confusion, and maybe a little irritation. “There aren’t any trains coming in. At all. There’s nopony to wait for.”
She giggled in a not-quite-condescending way. “That’s what yo-o-ou think!”
He was about to calmly explain that he was the ticket master, of course it was what he thought, when the air before her shimmered. He found himself bodily moved a few feet away, carried aloft in the mare’s surprisingly strong limbs. She returned to her position and waited.
Ear-splitting humming filled the air, though whether it came from the astral distortion or the pink mare, it was impossible to tell. It reached a pinnacle of auditory annihilation at the same moment the distortion became a full-on black hole.
The black hole folded in on itself, divided by zero, and spat forth a sandy-coated alicorn stallion.
“Hoo-ee!” the stallion said. “Now that’s what I call a teleport!”
The ticket master looked the stallion up and down in bemusement. The new arrival’s coat was stained with soot, and his mane trailed smoke. His vest was frayed at the ends, and at least two distinct patches were on fire. The only thing that escaped damage was the stylish cowpony hat atop his head.
Pinkie Pie flicked her tail and sent the hat tumbling onto her own head. “Hi, honey buns!”
“Honey buns” took her forehooves in his own and grinned. “Darlin’, it’s been too long!”
The ticket master tilted his head to the side. “Huh? What just happened here?”
“Just a nice little reunion with Braeburn, my hubby.” Pinkie Pie shot him a friendly smirk. “Oh, by the by, it’s Missus Pie now.”
“Just a nice little reunion, huh?” Braeburn chuckled. “Ah must not be tryin’ hard ’nuff!”
Pinkie whooped as Braeburn flipped her over and held her by a single foreleg. She shot the ticket master a grumpy look. “Do you mind?”
She reached into the air and pulled down a window shade, separating the ticket master from the happy couple. The loudest, most obnoxious smooch imaginable sounded out from behind the shade. The ticket master rolled his eyes, straightened out his moustache, and turned towards the doors.
He yelped and leapt into the air as he came face-to-face with both Pinkie Pie and her husband. “Okay, we’ll get out of your hair now!” she said.
He spun back around to look for the shade, which was nowhere to be found. His moustache frizzed as he twirled around in place. He stopped and glared at Pinkie. “Would you two move along?”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!” Braeburn said with a smile. He put a wing around Pinkie Pie’s shoulders and lead her into the town. “Madam-moe-zell Pie, would you accompany me for a night on the town?”
“Why, Sir Apple,” she replied, “I thought you’d never ask!”
The ticket master’s eyes grew wide as he watched them leave. His pulse pounded and his moustache wriggled. “Celestia’s Sun-kissed Butt, there’s two of them now!”
***
Doreen Bean, proprietor and head barista of the Keen Bean Coffee Shoppe, was on her seventeenth cup that evening. Due in no small part to this, she had perfected the art of speaking without punctuation.
“Can I take your order would you like your usual maybe you’d like to try the new fall flavors would you two please stop snacking on the ingredients!?”
Blueblood allowed his eyebrow to twitch ever-so-minusculely upwards. Doreen’s attention was not on him, however. Her ire was turned upon two colts who sat behind the bar beside her.
Snips looked up at Doreen Bean and blinked blankly. “What?”
Doreen sucked in a deep breath, stopped vibrating in place, gave Blueblood an energetic and apologetic smile, and then pointed to the pile of chocolate chips nestled in Snips’ hoof. “I said ‘stop eating the ingredients!’ Those are for paying customers!”
Snips self-consciously adjusted his paper hat with a pale-blue hoof. The hat only barely contained his mop of orange mane. “Sorry, boss. I just got—”
“We’re hungry!” Snails whined. Snips planted a hoof to his face as his partner went on. “We haven’t gotten a break in hours.”
Doreen Bean split her gaze between the tall Snails and the stocky Snips. “You two have only been working for two hours!”
“Well, yeah…” Snails’ brow furrowed as he pondered the great ponderings of the universe. “But I’m still hungry.”
“Snails”—Snips gulped—“Snails, she’s getting that twitch in her eye again.”
“You two pipe down and brew up a mocha! Pronto!” Doreen heaved in a breath as her employees scurried about on their appointed tasks. “I shoulda hired the Crusaders.”
She all but vaulted onto the counter as she returned to her post at the register. “May I take your order!?”
Blueblood’s eyes roamed over the menu. “Do you have anything without milk? Sensitive stomach, you see.”
Doreen’s patent-pending retail smile faltered. “Yes. Yes we do. Care to be more specific?”
Blueblood smiled politely. “Ah, yes. Perhaps a coffee?”
Twilight Sparkle’s head swiveled as she scanned the crowd. Her ears perked up as she noted the presence of both a green-coated and a white-coated alicorn princess. She trotted over to them, levitating her cup of coffee behind her.
Redheart saw her first. “Princess Sparkle! You’re just in time!”
“It’s Twilight,” the pony suffering from Lavender Unicorn Syndrome replied. “Just in time for what?”
The green alicorn, Lyra Heartstrings to be more precise, lifted her head and gave a weary smile. “Blueblood’s making some sort of announcement. A bunch of our friends are gonna be here.”
A flare of dragon’s flame shot through the shop, coming to a stop beside Lyra’s ear. It transmogrified itself into a roll of parchment, which Lyra then began to read aloud.
“‘Vinyl Scratch, Princess of Electronic Music and Epic Remixes, extends her regrets that she must decline your invitation. She has a previous engagement in the form of a “gig” that she absolutely must attend. She hopes that you will be willing to “fill her in” on the goings on of the previously described soirée. She hopes to visit with you in the near future. Sincerely, Octavia.’”
Lyra laid her head on the table. “Okay, a few of our friends are gonna be here.”
Redheart nodded. “So it’s basically going to be the team from our expedition; plus Lyra and minus Flash, that is.”
Twilight pulled up a chair as Blueblood joined them. He nodded his thanks and set his mug on the table. “So, that means we’re waiting for Rainbow Dash?”
“And Braeburn,” Redheart said.
Blueblood’s muzzle scrunched up. “But there weren’t any trains in from Appleoosa today…”
“Who needs trains when yah got a horn!?” an enthusiastic voice sounded out from across the room. Braeburn and Pinkie Pie all but galloped up to the table. Braeburn tipped his hat. “Ah just perfected mah teleport spell, what’d y’all think?”
Four sets of eyes trailed up and down his soot-stained body. “Keep practicing,” Blueblood said.
The princes exchanged a hoof-bump as the Apple-Pies sat. Pinkie leaned forward with a maniacal grin. “So what’s the big surprise? Is it a fun surprise!? Or is it sad? I hope it’s not a sad surprise, because fun surprises are waaay better than sad surprises!”
“I’m afraid, um, I’m afraid that it is not entirely a pleasant surprise.” Blueblood flipped back his flowing blond mane and raised a hoof. “I’m afraid, friends, that I am—”
“Totally forgetting somepony.” Rainbow Dash settled down beside Twilight with a smirk. “Hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend.”
Half of the table held back indiscriminate shrieks as a black-carapaced changeling walked up to the table. He sat in the seat beside Lyra and huffed. “I told you I didn’t need to come.”
Rainbow Dash punched him in the shoulder. “What good is a ‘social-integration program’ if you don’t integrate socially?”
She indicated the changeling with a smirk. “Everypony, Mandible. Mandible, everypony.”
Lyra Heartstring’s expression of pure horror had her mouth stretched downwards all the way to Neighpan. Figurativly. “Meep.”
Mandible narrowed his multifaceted eyes at her and scooched his chair away. Lyra did the same, but in the opposite direction.
Blueblood squinted. “Aren’t you that changeling that impersonated me?”
“Yeah, but only ’cause the face was convenient,” Mandible mumbled.
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue.
Twilight chewed her lower lip. “When you said ‘going to the Keen Bean one last time,’ I had no idea you were planning something this big.”
“I wasn’t, really,” Blueblood said. “It was Redheart’s idea to get us together.” He turned his blue eyes towards the nurse. “For which I am infinitely grateful.”
She blushed and fiddled with a lock of her mane.
Blueblood sat up higher in his chair, giving each pony seated at the table a gander. “My friends, and Mandible, it has come time for me to take my rightful place as a cog in the great machine that is Equestria.” He bowed his head. “I am to become the warden of Tartarus.”
“Wait… ‘Tartarus’ Tartarus?” Braeburn asked. “Like, ‘evil Nightmare creatures’ Tartarus?”
“Yes,” Blueblood sighed. “An old family oath, older than Ponyville, I believe, has been passed onto my shoulders. My great-grandfather, the old warden of Tartarus, is dying. I am the next heir in line for the position.”
Silence descended upon the table. The predominate expression held was that of disbelief and mild rebellion. Rainbow Dash lead the charge in the latter. “What? Aren’t oaths only binding, like, for the pony that made them? Even magic oaths?”
Redheart stood tall within the ranks of the former. “But… But you can’t go! This is… that… Why now!?”
“Because without a strong warden,” Blueblood stated, “there is nopony to hold back the tides of nightmarish monsters within. It is my duty as a Blueblood.”
Silence returned, until it was bucked into submission by Mandible. “What gives? Can’t you guys just visit him or something?”
Twilight Sparkle shook her head. “There’s this little matter of a clear and present danger to Equestria living deep inside Tartarus. There’s a mighty good reason it’s forbidden by law to enter its gates without precautions.” Her lip twitched as a spark flashed in her eyes. “Heavy precautions.”
The entire table seemed to shiver as an unhinged smile decorated her face. “Which is why we need to make sure his sendoff is very, very memorable! Pinkie, how does a going-away party grab you?”
“Well…” Pinkie hesitated. “Going-away parties are always the saddest parties… But they’re some of the most important parties, too.” She smiled at Blueblood. “I can make it real nice, if you want. Like the parties up in Canterlot! There can be dancing, nice music, and really great, totally-not-deep-fried food!”
A chorus of agreement joined her, circling the table with nods and “ahuhs.” Blueblood’s chin dipped downward. “You would all do this for me?”
Twilight Sparkle sniffed, her eyes narrowing nearly imperceptibly. “You’re our friend, Blueblood. By golly, that counts for something!”
***
Blueblood nodded to the guards as he walked through Canterlot Castle’s gates. His eyes stung a bit, though he told himself it was due to the harsh winds blowing across the space between Canterlot and Ponyville. He was absently counting the tiles he trod upon when he bumped face-first into something.
Or someone.
“Do you mind!?” Discord, wrapped in a towel, exited the bathroom with a huff. The eclectically-limbed creature of chaos hiked up the cloth with a growl. “Some people are getting in their late-mid-afternoon soaking in for the day.”
“Pardon me…” Blueblood thought for a moment, unsure of how to address the be-toweled draconequus. “Sir?”
Spectacles materialized on Discord’s snout, just so that he had something to glare over. “Pardon you, indeed. If you’ll excuse me, I must prepare for my pre-early-evening nap.” He floated away, carrying his ire with him. “It’s all I seem to be good for around here, anyway! That and crowning idiots!”
“Indeed,” Blueblood said with some degree of discretion. He continued on his not-so-merry way, until he came upon the Blueblood suite. He pushed open the door with a sigh and headed for the couch.
“It’s about time you got back.” Blueblood’s ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. “It just wouldn’t do to find that you had been shirking your duties.”
Blueblood set his jaw. “When, pray tell, have I ever shirked any duties assigned to me?”
“I think your lavender friend would say something like ‘the absence of evidence does not equal the evidence of absence.’” Grey hooves clomped on the floor as a middle-aged stallion with silvery blue hair approached. “But I’m more concerned with the possibility that you will ignore the very important mandate that has been brought to your attention.”
“Of course I would not ignore it,” Blueblood said. He sat upon the couch and glared at his empty fireplace. “That would be monstrous... Father.”
The stallion walked behind Blueblood and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Are you using a tone with me?”
“Should I be?” Blueblood turned on the pony. “Perhaps you should allow me to wallow in peace, seeing as how I shan’t have the pleasure at a later date.”
“Perhaps you should show some respect!” the elder snapped.
“Perhaps you could show some support!” Blueblood retaliated. “Give to your son a spot of slack as his life is thrown to the timberwolves!” He settled back on the couch and closed his eyes. “Instead, you’re as unfeeling as that wooden leg of yours.”
The stallion glanced back at his rear-left leg, or what was left of it. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, raw-ther.” Blueblood sniffed. “How lucky for you to be invalidated for the oath by merit of being an invalid.”
His father’s face changed from gray to beet-red. “The duty is yours, not mine! Don’t you dare suggest the accident was intentional! I’m just as susceptible to the family curse as you are!”
A deep breath in through the nose, a deep breath out through the mouth, and the father was calmed. Though not alleviated. “Cast what blame you have upon your great-grandfather and the enemies he decided to make. Upon his miserable oath. Upon the… timeless duty he performs for Equestria.”
“‘Preformed,’ you mean,” Blueblood said.
The father paced behind the couch. “I suppose I shall have to remarry, given the utter lack of heirs you have sired.”
“Ah,” Blueblood hummed. “This old song and dance.”
“Funny how it was just last month that I tried to arrange a marriage for you,” the father mused. “Her father laughed in my face.”
“I suspect it was because arranged marriages are considered out of vogue.” Blueblood stood and made his way towards the door. “And immoral.”
“I suspect it’s because my son has spent his life encouraging an image of pomposity and egotism that rivals the sun in sheer size!”
Blueblood whirled upon his father. He found himself two heads taller than the old unicorn. “As opposed to hiding it beneath a penchant for brownnosing, like some others we could mention?”
His father brought his snout up under Blueblood’s chin. “Perhaps the family name means more to me than personal pleasure!”
“Enough!”
Blueblood had heard the Royal Canterlot Voice often enough that it was instantly recognizable, even without the highly-handy bolded font. The user of the magically-amplified vocalization was none other than the Big Cheese herself, Princess Celestia.
From her rarely-seen unhappy expression, it was clear that she was in no mood to be messed with.
“Bluemane,” she said, addressing the older stallion, “may I speak with Blueblood in private?”
Stats
Page generated in 0.034 seconds
Total duration
692 users online
816,275 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Gotta admit, Blueblood's taking it better than I thought. Thought he'd get stone drunk and give no fucks to everyone.... well one out of two's alright. Still even though yeah Blueblood's a pretentious conceited knob, he's got a sense of noblesse oblige.
Huh. Well, it's just as well Flash turned up I suppose.
I've always been fond of Braeburn Pie for exactly that reason.
in my by wont of
in (me) by wont
"Lavender unicorn syndrome." Fie. As a pre-reader myself, I've never seen that a legitimate criteria for complaint in a story, so long as the narrative flows along with the character descriptions. I've seen it in published works and in the finest fanfiction across multiple genres. That said, there's always one or two who seem to be on a crusade against it.
"This old song and dance" indeed! Don't you both know, that's why they have the saying "an heir and a spare!"
And a mention of Nightmarity!
Good, also, to see Twilight on the case. No way she'll let a friend go off to their deathly duty alone, we all knew. I get a sense of the New Pantheon of alicorns being more actual pantheon-like, but maybe that's just the 'fate of hades' feeling I'm getting here. Just as a personal thing, I've always liked to extend Lyra's fanon personality into being a pony interested in all sorts of mythology (and conspiracies), and it'd be interesting to see more of my favorite background pony get in on the action.
3472572
Well, the story is E for Everyone, can't have too much of the former. The latter... there are certain persons he can't help but care what they think.
Hmm, Noblesse Oblige. I like it. It does seem to fit his situation a bit, even though... Spoilers.
3475318
You hear that, Flash? You just got called a replacement for Blueblood!
Golly gee, they're cute together. I consider their part in this story practice for when I get around to writing Braeburn's Ascension; or, the Courtship of Pinkamena Diane Pie.
3476285
Whoops! Thank you for catching that. I think it's fixed, now.
One or two very vocal people, i've noticed.
This comment, along with a few other stories i've been reading lately, really encouraged me. I've been sorta beating myself up with making sure i'm following all the writing rules, and agonizing over the times where I haven't been following the letter of the "law." Thanks for being a part of the whole "kicking me outta my funk" parade!
Blueblood Senior shoulda been thinking about that spare heir before he picked up that spare tire.
More than a mention, you might say.
Indeed not! She has her status as Princess of Friendship to uphold, after all.
By "fate of hades," are you referring to Hades' general predicament as an outcast to the gods, or is there a different reference in there?
And yeah, there's probably enough drama here for both the Greek and Egyptian gods.
It's always fun to see what others do with Lyra.
I hope you enjoy my portrayal of her "nonconformity"; i've got a few fun ideas in store for her.
I've been wondering that myself!
Oddly enough, a large, roaring fire is essential in any private library. Keeps the moisture away from the books, see. Moisture kills more books than fire ever will.
lh5.ggpht.com/-xWqT-Jy-Sec/UciaP2wf01I/AAAAAAAAGsI/sGH9PWXDSRo/s9000/276425__UNOPT__safe_twilight-sparkle_animated_princess-twilight_book_gif_animation_stroke.gif
evil-vortex.com/twiawe.jpg
*sudden realization*
Excuse me for a moment, something has just occurred to me regarding the previous chapter.
And I'm back. Anywho, where was I?
Don't forget the pink.
For elm's sake, don't forget the pink!
But that's the thing, italics are the correct way to indicate emphasis.
*edit*
Sadly though, the bit about Nightmarity flew right over my head. I have yet to get my
clawshooveshands on any of the comics.3503545
It's always the vocal minority...
3524811 From my dim memories of mythology class, oaths made to, by, or involving immortal beings tended to hold for the entire bloodline.
Poor Blueblood...
Somewhere in Canterlot, Celestia's rear end sneezed.
Oh boy...