//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Bluebloods Big Adventure // by Gingerquill //------------------------------// Big Mac was still gawking at Baltimare as he arrived at the harbourside. He was awed by the spectacle of bustling docks and jetty’s filled with ponies unloading ships of all shapes and sizes. Odd and exotic airships hung weightless in the air, tethered to looming docking towers, and filled with yet more vessels was the great curve of Horseshoe bay that reached out towards the horizon in either direction. He was a country pony, born and bred, and though the city was by all accounts not as large as the metropolis of Manehattan, it was far larger and busier than anywhere he’d ever been. He used to think Dodge City was big, but Baltimare could have swallowed it whole, followed by Ponyville and Appleloosa, and still have room to spare. He hadn’t even left Equestria yet and already he was finding it a little overwhelming. This would be the furthest he’d ever been from home. That thought played on his mind for a moment, the old homestead, his sisters and Gran, his beloved wife, they’d all be so far away. Still, he’d pushed to be the one to go on the adventure this time, he could hardly back out now. So, he girded himself and strode onwards in search of the airship that had been charted to take him to the Zebra Lands, pulling a cart of the finest produce Sweet Apple Acres had to offer along behind him. ---------- Elsewhere, writer A.K. Yearling sat nibbling sandwiches outside a tea shop by the waterfront. She might have found the chaotic activity of the harbour fascinating and intimidating in equal measure. Her alter-ego however, hidden beneath red glasses, a plain chapeau and velvet cloak, had seen it enough times before to find the bustle before setting off on an adventure quite dull. She recognised long ago that not everything could be exciting, and without a spark of intrigue it was rare this part of the story made into her books. Today however, the normal rhythm and pulse of activity around the harbour was disturbed. Traders and laborers flowed around a large, colourful and altogether far too orderly gathering that made its way towards one of the larger airship docking towers. At the head was a fine looking carriage bearing the royal crest, drawn by Royal Guards and flanked by a number more trotting alongside. Closely following was a wagon train that would have made even the most delicate pop diva look under prepared. Daring Do’s sharp mind quietly observed and absorbed everything she saw, feeding her piqued curiosity as she recounted these interesting developments to herself. A new Zebra Princess comes of age, a royal entourage gathers at the largest and closest harbour to the Zebra Lands, and now the Royal Air-Barge emerges from the clouds, descending majestically towards the harbour. Perhaps the book of her adventure to find the lost mines of Queen Solomare would start a chapter earlier than she first thought. ----- “Has he actually said anything at all?” Sergeant Shield Wall asked his squad mate, casting a wary eye about as they jogged just behind the royal carriage, more out of training rather than real expectation of trouble. It was their job after all, even if it was for the benefit of Prince Blueblood. “Thankfully not, he’s been quiet for once.” Bulwark replied, his relief obvious to anypony who might have overheard, even though they carefully kept their chatter low enough that the din of the harbour masked any details. “Weird, he usually finds something to whinge about, ‘Oh, the road’s too bumpy, it’s jiggling my hair’!” Shield Wall mimicked a nasal whining, drawing a quiet chuckle from Bulwark. “I’m not complaining, nice of him to keep his teeth together for a change.” “You know why he has the extra wide doors to his quarters?” Shield Wall continued conversationally, answering before Bulwark could respond. “So palace staff can bring his carriage into his room. Then he can just roll straight into it out of bed, and off to the spa to be pampered.” “Lazy git.” Bulwark near spat. Unlike Shield Wall he was quite new to Royal Guard duties and still learning the realities of day to day professional life within the palace. More specifically how Blueblood redefined shallow. “Look alive lads!” Captain Steel Horn barked from just behind them bringing their surreptitious conversation to an end as they snapped to startled attention. A stealthier and more fearsome unicorn mare didn’t exist in the guard, her ability to seemingly appear from nowhere at will and scream punishments at lazy guards had earned her the unaffectionate nickname, Commissar Pop Up. “If this goes anything like the Jock Strap incident, we don’t want to get boxed in, so eyes open and watch the spacings.” She scolded them, before speeding away, much to the two guards relief. ----- Dawn had long passed at Canterlot palace. It’s spacious halls, verdant gardens and luxurious quarters bathed in the mid-morning sun. Hardly a cloud bothered the sky and a gentle wind cooled the pleasantly warm air. It was another gorgeous day in paradise. Clean Sheets loved her job, particularly on beautiful days like this. As a member of the palaces housekeeping staff she was kept busy cleaning, tidying and making sure the décor was just so. With every surface she scrutinised, every sweep of her duster, every cloth, tapestry and vase straightened and nudged back into place, the pride and love she took in her work was obvious. Then came perhaps the one part of her job she didn’t like. Prince Bluebloods room. It wasn’t the gaudy décor he kept, or the total disregard he showed his quarters, clothes and sheets discarded thoughtlessly where they fell for somepony else to tidy. Or even his random collecting habits, piles of trinkets and object d’art stacked haphazardly about the cavernous room, evidence of his fixation with fads and pretty things that lasted about as long as it took for him to acquire said objects, before they too were forgotten. It wasn’t even the pompous way he acted, as though he deserved it all for being so handsome, that all Equestria naturally owed him a living for the daily gift of Prince Blueblood. No. It was worse. Worse than all that put together. It was the most terrible cardinal sin a pony could commit, one that screamed against every sensibility of decency and civilised behaviour. He never put his clothes away. Every day he insisted they be steam cleaned, pressed and delivered promptly to his room. And every evening she dutifully delivered them and stacked them neatly for him to put away. Afterall, it wouldn’t be seemly for a maid to go rummaging through royal draws. But as sure as the sun was risen every morning, when she came around to clean, they were still there! Always toppled as he’d plucked an item at random and left the rest in a collapsed pile that she’d have to get cleaned, again. They were already clean! Now she had to do it again! What made it worse is that she even took the time to stack them right in front of his cupboards, and he still couldn’t be bothered to put them away properly! She paused before the door, resting a hoof on the handle and taking a deep breath before stepping inside to face the inevitable mess and shambles that couldn’t even call itself chaos. With a resigned sigh she cast her eyes over the room towards the pile of clean clothes she would have to get repressed and stopped dead in her tracks. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. The pile stood un-toppled. Okay, he hadn’t actually put them away, but at least they weren’t all over the floor. Even if the rest of the room still looked like bomb had gone off, it was a step in the right direction. Confused, she cautiously stepped away, quietly wondering what kindly apparition had saved the shirts from returning to the laundry and began the thankless and futile task of trying to tidy and establish some kind of order to the room. She started with the grand bed, and gripping the bottom of the sheets piled atop with her hooves, she gave them a tug. “Bah!” A ghastly, white apparition suddenly shot bolt upright from under the sheets and gasped at her with bleary eyed and a shocking tangle of blond hair for a mane. “Gah!” Clean Sheets shrieked back, toppling backward onto her rump and shuffling away. “Stop screaming and give me my sheets back!” The spectre snapped at her, yanking them out of her hooves and wrapping itself back up into a toasty bedsheet cocoon. “Now go away, I’m trying to sleep.” “P-p- prince Blueblood? Buh- but, you’re supposed to be on your way to the Zebra Lands…” Clean Sheets gasped, her heart thundering in her chest with the shock. “That’s not until morning.” Blueblood grumbled at her. “It is morning, your highness.” … … … “AAAAAH! I’m supposed to be on my way to the Zebra Lands!” Blueblood howled, shooting upright again. “Quick, run me a shower!” He wailed, tumbling out of bed as he attempted to bolt for the bathroom while still wrapped up in his sheets. Stumbling upright and onto his hooves, he flailed his way into the living space. Ever dutiful, and a little terrified, Clean Sheets shuffled around his stumbling form and made a break for the en-suite, quickly turning the taps and pouring hot water for the panicked prince. “Your shower is running highness!” “No time! I have to get to Baltimare!” He roared back, and finally freed from the sheets, he pelted out of the door, snatching a fresh collar and bow tie from the neat clothes pile, scattering it across the floor in his panic. Clean Sheets gasped, her horror turning to rage as she scurried over and stacked the pile back up again. She had no time to admire her work before Blueblood blundered back into the room. “I know I have a desk in here somewhere!” He cried, rushing from pile to pile of his collected rubbish, tossing it this way and that before shouting in triumph. “Ha! Found it!” A final pile was tossed away, revealing a working desk Clean Sheets had no idea he had despite having serviced his room for some months now. He flourished an envelope embellished with royal seals and pushed it into her hooves. “Take this straight to Weather Central immediately!” He cried before charging back out of the door once more and away down the corridor as fast as his pampered hooves could carry him. Clean Sheets screamed again. He’d knocked his clean clothes pile back over. ----- The spectacle of a dishevelled Prince Blueblood blundering his way through the palace and out towards Canterlot train station did not go unnoticed. Princess Twilight Sparkle stood on a balcony overlooking the glorious city below wearing a grim expression, equerry Raven Inkwell was dutifully, and silently, next to her as they watched him panic his way through the streets. “Don’t say a word.”