And The Moral Of This Story Is...?

by sirenc0re


...what a ponce

“I can’t avoid this, can I?”

“No, Master Blueblood.” 

“Are you sure, Silver Platter? I’m sure there’s some excuse you can drum up. Isn’t there a foal’s hospital or some other place I can visit?”

“I’m afraid not, Master Blueblood. It’s much too short notice.”

“Oh, phooey.”

Prince Blueblood stood in front of a very large mirror, looking himself over as his butler, the venerable Silver Platter, dressed him in a very expensive lounge suit. He looked dashing, handsome, and every other synonym that meant ‘pretty bastard’. He flashed a smile at himself, and then spoke again.

“It’s just that it will be awkward. And you know how I do hate awkward.There’s nothing amusing about it, and making amends is too much trouble for its worth.”

“It would make Her Highness happy.”

He snorted. “What does she care? I simply do not understand that old mare sometimes. First she laughs to my face about that dreadful gala, and now she must care about what some upstart commoner thinks of me? I say, she is doing this to me on purpose!”

“Miss Rarity is a national hero, Master Blueblood.”

Another snort. “So what? She did her job, that’s all! And what a wonderful job she did- the palace hasn’t known a night of peace since!”

“You don’t really mean that.”

The prince sighed. “No… no, I do not.”

He shook his head. “But my point still stands: hero or not, it makes no difference to me. So what if she’s finally learned how to get into everypony else’s good graces? That means nothing. We’re a bunch of twits- dangle any shiny thing in front of us and we’ll love it! She’ll fall off like all the rest of the pretenders. My amends will be for naught then.”

“It is the nice thing to do.”

“Is it, now?”

“It always has.”
“And I suppose this means I should go to this airship launch and titter along with her like she is worthy of my presence?”

Silver Platter finished the last of his adjustments. Blueblood looked positively like the prince he was. 

“It would also be the civil thing to do. A prince of the realm can’t be seen feuding with such a well-regarded figure. Especially now.”

“Well… you are not wrong.”

Blueblood sighed, like he had just done the most mulling over anypony could ever hope to do. “Fine,” he said, “You win this time, Silver Platter. But let it be said that when push comes to shove, I will have the last word here, and I will say that I told you so!”


“Ah, Prince Blueblood. I didn’t think I would meet you again so… soon.” Her infuriatingly refined voice rang out in the light din of chatter. The newly christened airship had flittered off to its maiden voyage, and now that left the assorted Very Important Ponies left behind to the afterparty. 

“Likewise, Miss Rarity. I am glad we have a chance to speak again. I am afraid our last meeting was under less-than-ideal circumstances.” He grinned, which caused Rarity’s nose to wrinkle a microscopic amount. 

“That is one way of putting it.”

They both stood for a while, in silence, their drinks held in their auras. It was as if they were trying to see who would make the first move. Reluctantly, Blueblood made the first move.

“About that meeting… Well, that whole night was a bit disastrous, wasn’t it? We both said things we regret-”

“I assure you, your highness, I don’t regret anything.”

“-I said some things that were unsuitable to your person, then. We can both agree on that.”

“We can.”

Rarity’s voice was terse, but this was already farther than Blueblood had ever bothered to go before when it came to a ‘proper apology’, as Silver Platter put it. 

“Then I…” he paused for a second as his throat seemed to dry. This was a lot harder than he thought. “I apologize for whatever it was that I said that offended you that night.” Not that he could remember what he even said exactly. Or that he especially regretted it. Lip service seemed to remain a valuable skill to have, even for someone such as he who was dubiously related to royalty. 

Rarity studied Blueblood for a second. Maybe she sensed the insincerity in his words, or maybe she was trying to gauge his intentions. Whatever it was, she eventually nodded.

“Well, it’s water under the bridge then, darling!” she said brightly, “We weren’t all ourselves that night, so I will forgive it. But only this once! Ladies are not to be mocked, and I shan’t let it happen again.”

“That’s only expected, Miss Rarity.” Blueblood smiled, relieved to have gotten this out of the way. Although…

“Though you’ve got to admit,” he said, beginning to dig the proverbial hole, “there was not anypony else I could use to shield me against that ghastly cake! I could hardly use a higher-born mare, and you bumpkin folks are surely used to-”

And SPLASH went Miss Rarity’s drink of Sparkling Cider all over his face and very quintuple digit bit suit. 


Blueblood stood in front of another mirror in another room of his grand estate. His coat and mane had dried, but his suit was absolutely still drenched. Silver Platter got to work undressing the now very ruined clothing, which probably cost enough to count as a sizable contribution to, say, a foal’s hospital.

“...”

“...”

“Master Blueblood?”

“...Yes, Silver Platter?”

“It seems Miss Rarity is making waves across your lauded community again. Something about rusticality?”

“Hmph.”

“I’m simply asking, because I clearly remember your professing that-”

“I know what I said, Silver Platter!”

“I just hope it’s taught you a valuable lesson.”

“I’m in no mood for your parables. You're my Stallionservant, for goodness sake! Can’t you just unclothe me and be done with it?”

Silver Platter, who had been in the middle of undoing Blueblood’s soggy cravat, spoke, which was impressive given how clear he sounded through clenched teeth.

“I will, Master Blueblood. But as your Stallionservant I feel the need to remind you to ruminate on this. A prince such as yourself should always aspire to be better than he already is.”

“Oh, just shut it!”

“Yes, Master Blueblood.”