The Ball
Let the Silence Sing 2
Part 6: The Ball
Prince Blueblood and Big Macintosh finally appeared at the palace gates after hours of shopping around Canterlot. The poor red stallion had been made to try on cloaks, tuxedos, suits, ties, hats, even make-up! His tail wasn’t too happy either, for it had been ceremonially braided one way, then the other, before being allowed to obey gravity again. Whenever he complained Blueblood tsked at him, reminding him how important of an occasion this was going to be.
The red stallion rolled his eyes, but gave a beltish sort of yelp when he was whisked away by a group of mares under Blueblood’s command. Bodily lifted into the air, he was seen to the royal bath-house, where only the super-high-ups of Canterlot were allowed to go. Blueblood trotted along while the muscled Stallion was mare-handled into a hot bath. (Rather eager) mares gathered all around Big Mac as buckets of water splooshed over his head, soaps levitated this way and that, and sponges came to scrub him raw. Girlish giggling went back and forth while the helpless pony was turned over and over so they could get every bit of him. He coughed and spluttered while they lathered his tail up, then his mane. His cries for help went ignored as his coat became whiter and white. Soon, he looked like a pony made of whipped cream, they’d thrown so much soap over him.
The hard work of living on the farm turned the water a muddy brown, and they were forced to pour more and more of it. A startled, rather high-pitched whinny told Prince Blueblood they’d spared him no privacy for his colt parts. A long, frothing sort of spittle was hanging out of Big Mac’s mouth, and that had to be scrubbed off too. A few long, agonizing minutes later the red stallion stood, shining and clean. His mane had been braided like a mare’s, a bow had been put on his tail, and he was glaring murder at Prince Blueblood.
Big Mac clip-clopped over with clenched teeth, smelling like a freshly-picked rose. Blueblood smiled nervously, a drop of sweat going down the side of his temple. Big Mac seized him by his collar, raising a massive hoof to smack-a-filly. Then another body of white fur caught his eye, for Celestia was standing in the doorway. She’d come to have a bath too?
Why, Big Mac certainly looked wonderful this evening! Celestia’s eyes traveled him a couple of times, and the crew of bath ponies for the spa bowed low. The royal coltfriend had been scrubbed to a shine, just for her Majesty. Celestia tittered with laughter, putting a hoof over her mouth and pinkening in the cheeks. Big Mac was not a show dog, how silly of them to say such a thing! The red stallion blushed.
Big Mac lowered his smacking-a-filly pose, releasing Blueblood. The Prince coughed a little, straightening his collar. Well then! The boys still had preparing to do, if her Majesty didn’t mind! Throwing an arm around Big Mac, they started away before Celestia could get another word in. Big Mac saw himself in a mirror when they arrived at the Prince’s private apartments. He was cleaner than he ever remembered being. Prince Blueblood was very big on looks, so it was no big task to tame Big Mac’s mane, brush him down, and see to his hooves a bit. A formal night, a royal formal night that is, required that one looked one’s best! Big Mac looked himself over self consciously. He didn’t have a spec of dirt on his hooves, his mane all went one way thanks to Blueblood’s brush, and he was half-sure there was a spell on his coat for it shone so brightly. He looked like a demi-god of stallions, a stallion of noble birth and breeding! The red stallion snorted at Blueblood’s comment, but had to sit still so they could get his outfit on.
Despite hours and hours of shopping, trying things on, and fussing over what he might wear to the ball, the two stallions had decided on something rather minimal for him. After Big Mac had been cleaned up, they’d found a black top hat and a black bowtie for him, little else. Sure, they could’ve gotten him a petticoat, a cane, snap-on cuffs with golden cufflinks… but it just didn’t seem to fit him. Big Mac’s large body-type screamed to be free and seen in all its natural glory. Why, that was why Blueblood rarely wore full outfits, he had a nice barrel as well! Big Mac nodded that this made sense. Cramming himself into a suit or something fancy didn’t sound like something he wanted to do for a party, not even a formal one.
The red stallion stopped to admire himself in the mirror once more for a few long moments while Blueblood fussed with his own mane and tie. He looked… fancy. He kind of liked it. Perhaps it was just the top hat and bowtie, but he looked like a real gentlecolt. Offering a coy, winning sort of smile, he turned sideways to make sure he looked okay from end to end. Blueblood patted his back. He was ready.
=-=-=-=
The ball had filled in with ponies and a smattering of griffons all too easily that night, but none more easy to spot than Prince Ivoryclaw, son of King Ebonfeather. He was a tall, slender thing with shining feathers. No muscle to speak of, he had long and gangly legs, carrying himself with a quiet sort of ease. His robes flowed about him, for he moved with enough grace to give the illusion that he was hovering, not walking. It was a little mesmerizing. What was so strange, though, was his eyes. Pink and sharp, they betrayed his albinoism for anypony or anyfeather that looked upon him. No wonder he was so skinny, perhaps it made him sickly… he was no less graceful though, and it made him look a little otherworldly. His quiet smile made more than a couple of servant mares shiver in the hindquarters.
Prince Ivoryclaw and King Ebonfeather had arrived together, then Celestia, then Princess Luna. The nobles were supposed to gather first to let the royals be ‘fashionably late’, so they could slide into the crowd unnoticed and mingle. As if anypony wouldn’t notice two griffons or two alicorns twice the height of anyone else there. Ah well, it was tradition.
Prince Ivoryclaw kissed each royal hoof, offering thanks in his whispy little voice. Luna’s cheeks were a deeper shade than Celestia’s. She was still getting over Ambassador Doppleganger, for the poor thing had been sent to Zafrica for the next five years… it just hadn’t worked out for them. However, it was to Celestia that Ivoryclaw paid his deepest respects and compliments, which made Luna’s muzzle rumple up jealously.
Perhaps the Princess would honor him with a dance, Ivoryclaw’s move was forward and rather obnoxious. Celestia knew the game, and slipped easily into the role. They’d be gone tomorrow, all she had to do was verbally fence until the morrow, then she’d be left in peace. But, she had no doubt there was a battle ahead.
Ivoryclaw’s father had told him that her Majesty had taken an interest in courting as of late. He brought it up like Big Mac wasn’t a factor. It was very romantic, seeing a being as high and beautiful as she finally considering settling down with a companion. Everypony and Everyfeather thought so. Why, Celestia could certainly have her pick of any male, of any species, she pleased! It was true!
Celestia was not pleased with his banter, but smiled and stepped fluidly to the music with him. While he was an interesting creature, albino and graceful, he was clearly angling for station at the behest of his father. Out of the corner of her eye, the Princess could see Ebonfeather sitting at one of the rest-tables with a rather wide goblet of dark wine in his talons. His eyes were locked on the two of them like everything was going according to plan. She didn’t like it.
Ivoryclaw serenaded Celestia with compliments of her power and paradise-like country, slipping ever-closer to mentioning the wonderful combination that their two nations might make via an alicorn and griffon coupling. Ta’hahhh! The sun Princess humored him a bit, looking about for Big Mac until—ah! There he was!
Big Macintosh and Prince Blueblood were the last of the higher-ups to arrive at the ball. The two of them stood atop the entrance dais. A stray reporter or two snapped their pictures, and Big Mac had no doubt he’d be in the paper again soon. He spotted Celestia in the crowd (it was hard not to, since she was two stretches taller than everypony else) and smiled grandly. Blueblood saw a little deeper than that, however.
The Princeling’s eyes flicked from Celestia’s expression, to Ivoryclaw’s proximity, to Ebonfeather’s location. He wasn’t surprised, but it was rather blatant and tactless. They thought they might turn Celestia’s head just like that, huhm? They’d have to see about that—ah?! Just as suddenly, half a dozen griffon’s stood between them and where Celestia was. My my, the Prince and the Royal Coltfriend were best pals now, were they? That was adorable! They simply had to tell them all about what royalty in Canterlot did for fun! Clever girls, thought Blueblood, running defense for Ebonfeather. Sure enough, Blueblood caught the King’s eye over the crowd for a split second.
The music slowed as one griffon whispered to another who whispered to another who got the band to change its tune. A more romantic tune began to play so that closer, more intimate dances might begin on the dance floor. A wider circle was made for Celestia, of course, as she was dancing with a Prince. It may as well have put a spotlight on them, for the other couples were much smaller and seemed to blend into the background.
Big Mac had no patience for such things. It wasn’t as though he had a royal reputation to ruin, and he’d seen the same things Blueblood had. Squeezing past the intercepting mares after Blueblood had whispered something important to him, the red stallion made his way through the crowd.
Celestia’s uncomfortable frown showed in her wings, for they drooped a bit when the white and pink prince invaded her personal space. She tried to think of her little ponies, and how well the trade agreements were going. They’d be gone tomorrow, they’d be gone tomorrow. She felt his pink-tipped claws travelling up under her wings, a rather personal area on a pegasus’ body. It was beyond the shoulders and under the primary muscles. Without meaning to, Celestia let out a very slight whimper, clenching her teeth as her brow furrowed in feminine distress.
Something bap-bap-bapped Ivoryclaw’s back. He turned, his rather lewd expression still on his face, straight into a glaring Big Macintosh Apple. Celestia gasped a little, for he looked positively stunning in his top hat and bowtie… but he looked furious. Big Mac was stallion enough to know where you shouldn’t be touchin’ mares, much less on a dance floor, much less when they already had a coltfriend. He grabbed the Prince by his collar, raising his smack-a-filly hoof. Ebonfeather jumped out of his seat with a squawk. His son was being assaulted by some peasant! Big Mac glanced past the frightened Princeling at Celestia. Her eyes looked frightened, for she’d never seen him angry before.
Taking a deep breath, Big Mac did what Prince Blueblood had whispered to him before crossing the ballroom. Reaching, he undid his bowtie, and lightly whapped Ivoryclaw’s beak with it. The griffon looked startled, and Ebonfeather skidded to a halt. Royal protocol?! Where had that dumb red peasant learned such a thing!? When the griffon Prince gave no reaction, Big Mac whapped him with the bowtie again to make sure. The gauntlet had been thrown. There was to be a royal duel for Celestia’s honor!
End of Part 6
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Blueblood...got a give you props dude. *slow clap* Now onto Big Mac smackin' a griffon prince like a bitch!
Ah shit. Big Mac is gonna smack a filly.
And with that, let the Arena be filled, for a rather spectacular performance is to be held!
I foresee a new pillow for Celestia's bed, well stuffed with Gryphon feathers.
Everyfeather, eh? I like it.
Let's hope this ends better than another recent duel that comes to mind.
Smack-a-filly pose needs to be drawn ASAP.
I have to say, your griffons' ideas of what constitutes a cunning plan are ... pretty damn dumb, frankly. Almost as dumb as your Celestia, who is apparently incapable of handling said 'cunning' plan on her own.
It really detracts from your work thus far.
Wait let me think of something clever......looks like pink hawk's down......thats the best I could do
Pft, smack-a-filly hoof. That made me giggle. Also, woo, two in one day.
Boom! Throw down, called it!
That must have been quite a feat given how short it is.
4498797 I think the one that isn't seeing how cunning this plan is, is you. The king cornered her with social rules, she can't attack him or repel him too harslhy without affecting her people in the process. What would she do? Burn the Prince? Then cause a war?
The king was counting on this, especially her fear of a confrontation. She endured it for her people's sake. Not her own, that doesn't mean that she couldn't later put the prince and the king on their place. And knowing her, she will do something against the King after the fight's over. It probably will be something subtle but harsh, that only the politics will notice, but not the population.
4498625 Well, that depends if he's allowed to fly. Then, I think Ivoryclaw would have the advantage.
You know, I am really loving the Blueblood you have written. I kind of like it when authors buck the trend of making him a complete douchebag.
4498670
Let the Royal Bitch Slapping commence!
If only Ivoryclaw had gone against his father's orders, and went after Luna instead of Celestia, then there would have likely been two happy Princesses in Canterlot that night, instead of two rather annoyed ones.
NOOO! MY OTP...
My OTP...
4499091
yes. so much yes.
I'm giggling with glee. That is a literal statement.
How does one's muzzle rumple?
... Oh. Buck...
I love, love how you portray Blueblood here. He's actually very helpful and more of friend that any of snakes in Canterlot.
4499433 well a ponies muzzle rumples when it doesn't quite get crumpled, but its smile's surely crumbled and it's bumbled into a frown
4499583 Hehe thats a good one.
THAT MOTHERPLUCKER!
Big Mac... This is no longer an exhibition match like it twas between you and Spartan Shield. This is a fight for your mare's honor! Crush him! (as much as you're allowed without having to go to jail, of course.)
4499433 derpicdn.net/img/view/2013/4/8/291571__safe_princess+luna_cute_scrunchy+face_face_reaction+face_artist-colon-devious-dash-stylus.jpg
4499757 I do that a lot sorry.
4498716 Nah, not Tia or Big Mac's style. He's probably going to be off nursing his wounds and meet up with Princess Luna.
too bad about doppleganger, chrysalis probably got jealous.
and i can't get the image out of my head of big mac slapping a stunned albino griffon with a bowtie.
there's got to be a joke in that
If I were Ebonfeather, I'd really, really think about what outlying territory can be quickly ceded to Equestria as recompense for his son's unconscionable slights and insults to the Court of the Sun and Moon. Otherwise, he's very possibly going to have an heir who has been pounded into paste.
4498971
It depends if Mac knows the tricks for bringing down an agile flier who is trying to fight him. Given that his sister's best friend is Rainbow Dash, I'd say that he probably does.
The Pimp-hoof is STRONG in this one.
You'd think Celestia might be a bit put out with those other mares taking liberties with her stallion, you'd think she's want to be the one to clean all his bits.
None had every truly seen Big mac angry before! None that were still living, anyway.
4499172 You and me both my dear...
*mortal combat announcer* HUMILIATION
He is a big meanie, touching her like that! HOW DARE YOU
For a second there I thought they were bleaching him. That wouldn't have ended well.
Also, your backstory for Blueblood cries out for a story of its own.
Now on to the smack-a-fowl.
Wonderful!
Doppelgänger: The spirit is willing my Queen, but the flesh is spongy and bruised.
Chrysalis: *raises eyebrows*
Noooooooooooooo
