“Captain… I did not think I would see you so soon,” she said as she looked down from her throne. “Did something go wrong?”
Captain Cloudy Sky remembered. He had felt butterflies in his stomach the day he had asked his first marefriend out. He had shaken in his military boots the first day of his training right in front of his instructor. He had written a tearful apology to his family when things had gone dire in the last conflict with the griffons.
On this day, he could remember and revive the sentiments of those fading memories.
He was kneeling in front of his ruler and he wanted nothing more than disappear out of her sight.
The funny part was that he was not even afraid. He had long since learned of his ruler’s true character. She was the most benevolent mare he knew of, reasonable and just. Even as the truth about the Mare in the Moon came out and fears of banishment had been spread like wildfire by sensationalists, Princess Celestia had continued reigning with a gentle yet firm hoof.
Cloudy Sky was not afraid of what she might do. He simply did not want to disappoint her. To hurt her was unthinkable, but he knew it was inevitable at this point.
He steeled himself to reply to his ruler’s previous question.
“Yes, Princess, there has been a problem.”
“Yes?” She urged him to continue, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“It’s your nephew…” He lowered his head, knowing he was not worthy to gaze her way. “He is missing…”
In all his years of service, he had never seen or heard of his princess breaking decorum.
Yet today she had let out a gasp of horror.
He bit back tears of shame.
He still could not see a thing. The blindness was getting old quickly. When he got back to Canterlot, hopefully as soon as they reached his savior’s property, he would make sure to make a large donation to the Blind Pony Association.
After he had been groomed to perfection and fed the finest of cooking, of course.
Blueblood’s patience was wearing thin. They had walked for a long time now and his hooves had started to hurt. He was not a very physical unicorn. At least the slavers had the decency to carry him…
He shook his head. No, it would be undignified to be ungrateful to that superb lady, especially after she had saved him from that terrible fate. It would have been more appreciated if he could have left without the chains and the restraints, but he would play along for now.
He already had, with great gusto too.
When she had opened the door and asked in curt and snippy terms that her guards escort him out while she paid her friend, Blueblood had almost believed she had had a change of heart. His nervousness had not been faked as he had followed Raging River with his ears alone. The only thing preventing him from making a break for it was the mantra he repeated to himself.
‘Just a little longer… just a little longer…’
Even when he had heard dogs sniffling around him, he had gone on stoically, following the stallion in front of him.
‘Just a little longer…’
Even when the griffon guards had hissed under their breath at his passage, he had affected submission and fear, all the while fighting his inner troubles.
‘Just a little longer…’
Even when his savior had clamped a collar around his neck, he had not protested, but he had shaken with indignation.
‘Just a little longer…’
“Just a little longer, my prince.” She had whispered pleadingly.
The prince took comfort in the idea that at least one being in this mud hole knew of his true place in the world. It even encouraged him to think of new and creative ways he would get his precious aunt to avenge him. Banishment had been too kind of a punishment before he had been even foalnapped!
With thoughts of his revenge filling his head, he had not noticed when they had started going uphill, but not even that had stopped him from noticing the moment the wind had started brushing against his coat.
“Hmmmm hrfhmmm!” Blueblood said, cursing his gag.
Now that they were out of the tunnels, they could stop this farce and get him proper care, for his aunts’ sakes!
Rapidly, almost as if she had anticipated it, his benefactor had placed herself against him.
“Not yet, my prince. They have eyes in this valley.” Her voice was syrupy, but did not hide the thrill she seemed to feel. “I fear that we may need to get to my estate before dropping the act.”
For a moment, the prince seriously considered foregoing all appearances and ordering her to free him that instant. This was no way to treat a royal pony like him! He was used to having his way, for good reasons! This humiliation would be bitterly remembered. Eh, he had half a mind to yell at his Auntie Celestia for putting him through this.
No, not only was that last one completely blasphemous, the rest of his ideas were perfectly impractical. Cutie Mark aside, he had never really relied on himself to take care of his basic needs. Such actions were beneath him. If he was truly in a valley like she had affirmed, then the only course of action was to follow her.
It soon appeared she had been truthful. Blueblood had started feeling the grass under his hooves quickly afterward, then the repulsive odor of wilderness had filled his nostrils. For once, the gag could have been useful, if it had been put over his nose instead of his mouth…
Then again, surely by now, the gentlecolt would have let out a scream of disgust at his treatment and demanded he be freed. Perhaps it was much more in his favor to keep the gag until all danger was put away.
Their march went on uneventfully, if greatly tiring. Twice, their group needed to stop to tend to the white stallion’s needs, whether it was thirst or fatigue.
In those times, the golden pegasus was instantly by his sides, pandering him. Her touch was as delicate as her person and her voice was as soothing as that of his aunt.
It made him wonder, astonished, how he could have forgotten her; it had him questioning his sanity that he had no idea who that noble mare was. She had affirmed they had met before and there would have been no reason for her to lie. But such a gracious mare must have been the talk of all Canterlot from her very first public appearance. Just like that mare.
It mattered not. As soon as he was safe, he would organize a grand ceremony in her honor, decorating her with the highest of ranking and repaying every bit she had spent in the name of his well-being three times over. Then, when his debt had been repaid, he would be free to ask around about her, learning of her until he knew her inside out.
It was a shame he could not seduce her… She would have deserved his attention. At least, he could try to use his influence and persuade Valiant Winds to meet her.
Too quickly though, the need to continue had arisen and Blueblood had been forced to get up. His thoughts had not revolved around much gratitude for a while after that.
For reasons he could not fathom, they seemed adamant on the usage of a blindfold until they had reached their destinations. This had meant that he had tripped and dodged narrowly collisions with trees on a regular basis for the hours their trip had taken.
His crankiness was thus understandable, but her bodyguards seemed not to have an ounce of compassion or respect for his rank. Each demand he made without getting his lady’s attention was met with barely disguised contempt, when they bothered trying to understand his muffled cries.
Those two would discover the dungeon cells of Canterlot inside out by the time he was done with them.
“My prince!” She called. “We are almost there; I can see the outline of my mansion!”
Finally!
His hooves went to his gag and blindfold without opposition from anypony and he fought the urge to laugh. YES! He could taste his freedom on the tip of his tongue. At this point, all he needed to do was send a message to Canterlot and wait amiably with his benefactor. With any luck, he would get to know her better.
The brightness of the day startled him, at first. The surge of pain it had brought had forced him to cover his eyes with his foreleg right away. Through narrow eyelids, he forced himself to look at his surroundings, without much success. As un-princely as it was, Blueblood had not been able to blink back the tears.
The warmth of another’s hoof fell on his shoulder, reassuring in its presence.
“Your ordeal is over, my prince.” She smiled and the prince could not help but smile back at her.
She was a true angel.
“Tropical Night, march ahead and warn the servants that we have returned.” She even spoke with the air of a most noble pony. At that, of course the big earth pony would not dare do anything but nod obediently.
A perfect mare…
“Let’s go, my prince. I cannot wait any longer.” This time, no amount of control could have hidden the thrill in her voice.
The mansion was a great piece of architecture, even in the eyes of a harsh critic like him. The choice of location was unfortunate, namely in the woods a few hours of distance from Hoofywoods, but nothing was perfect (except his aunt and him, not to mention how much of a close second that golden mare was).
In all respect, he thought the statues of pegasi lording over griffons were not imposing enough, but he could understand the difficult logistics that must have been required to build this mansion in the first place.
Hum… this could make an appropriate gift for her… or simply a completely new estate in Canterlot would be suitable to her taste?
Judging by the magnificent paintings hanging on the stone walls, it was a reasonable assumption. Some of them were of course of her noble ancestry, which he now realized was at most three generations old, but there was also a plethora of more modern pieces of art that the golden mare had acquired herself. The most striking painting in her collection was the only one she bothered to stop in front of.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She sighed longingly.
…From a certain point of view, he supposed it was.
The artist had almost given him a heart attack with the plainly violent usage of blood red all over the canvas. Long and unclean traits of paint were spreading from a central point, creating the troubling impression of being dragged into the bloody battlefield, until they reached a single dot of black, which seeped and bled out onto a mad pony swimming into a mass of that thing. More disturbing even was the fact that the pony seemed to lack a face, blindly trying to fend off the assault of that liquid monstrosity, with little success.
Blueblood’s mind came out with a few terms to describe the sight, but “beautiful” was not amongst them. As such, it became singularly uncomfortable for him to speak when he noticed the expectant eyes of the mare on him.
“It shows great technique.” He nodded, thanking his diplomatic lessons for his poker face and his convincing appreciation.
“Though I must admit not knowing this particular painting; who is the artist?”
“Oh, Veran Crog.”
Ah, that explained it. A crazed pony with delusions of grandeur. He should have known.
“I think it is his best work yet.” She smiled proudly.
The unfortunate truth was that Blueblood agreed with her on that. It was his best painting. No doubt.
On his list was also added a visit to Veran Crog for fraud. No matter how much he had asked for his work, it was clearly not worth the bits spent.
“It represents love.” The mare sighed longingly again, then straightened and winked at him.
His sarcastic remark died in his throat, which surprisingly contracted and remained firmly incapable of producing the smallest of sound. Simultaneously, his knees decided to join in on the treacherous session and shook in unison.
Neglecting to regain his dignified aloofness, Blueblood openly stared at her flanks while she walked. Her demarche was graceful, topped by this sexy wiggle of her hips.
The stone cold mansion started to feel awfully hot for the poor stallion…
At that moment, the prince failed to notice the glint of sadistic amusement in her bodyguards’ eyes. Their lips even twisted the slightest, giving the faint impression of them smiling, in complete opposition to their perfectly stoic behavior of the day.
Blueblood’s first reaction when he snapped out of it was to raise his nose high in the air and look down disdainfully on the two annoying stallions. “Tch, commoners…” He muttered while trying to gather the fragmented remains of his dignity.
He did not hurry after the mare, instead taking time to show that he was not completely depending on her good will – even if he actually was. Politics were complex like that in Canterlot.
This smaller journey through the mansion was informative, to say the least. All servants were working dutifully, without looking up at the new guest, as was proper etiquette. Some looked a little defeated, but Blueblood had seen that behavior in Canterlot too. It usually translated to family troubles whenever one of their employers bothered to ask.
What a shame.
The white stallion went past them without a second glance, even when he heard the smallest clear note of metal rubbing together. It must have come from his own chains. No matter, he would demand a blacksmith as soon as they had reached whatever room the golden mare was leading him to.
Soon, she pushed open beautifully carved wooden doors and slipped into the room ahead of Bueblood. Curious, as he did not recognize the architecture and therefor was unable to determine what function the room was supposed to have, he followed her in.
Blueblood blinked.
Repressing a chill, he forced himself to observe his surroundings. It was a dining hall, doubtlessly, as the long table could attest, but something about the decorations put him on edge. It wasn’t that they were tasteless, though he would have been appalled at that atrocious portrait of a scarred stallion regardless, but the lack of painted windows (and even windows at all) felt terribly out of place.
As such, the darkness was stronger here than in any other part of the mansions he had been beforehand. With great difficulty, he was able to make out his benefactor’s body shape on the other side of the hall, but the stallion felt distinctively less attracted to her in this setting.
If anything, it reminded him of that old changeling horror story.
“Take your seat – by my side –, the meal is almost ready,” she said longingly.
Dear Aunt of his, he really hoped the ‘meal’ in question was not going through his veins at high speed at this very moment.
Trying to remain as regal as possible, the prince made his way to the seat she had pointed to, doing his best to ignore the love struck look in the mare’s gorgeous eyes. Oh, those lovely lips of her were pressed together in a stunning smile and he…
Shaking his head at the thought, Blueblood hurriedly sat down, looking anywhere but at the mare. There were a dozen reasons he should not think about that, the two biggest being : his imminent return to Canterlot and the fact that she was not a unicorn.
He wondered how divine she would be with a horn instead of those angelic wings.
The image brought a smile to his lips.
“Servants, serve our guest first,” the mare ordered, bringing him out of his reverie, but not taking his smile away from him.
Ah, and she, of course, knew proper etiquette dictated the higher the in hierarchy, the sooner you got your plate. Really, Valiant Winds had to meet this lady. He already had ideas on how to make these two meet. With just a few nudge, he would be willing to bet that the brave pegasus would be stricken and his benefactor would rise to the highest rank of pony nobility.
The enticing smell of his meal had his mouth watering and its taste did not disappoint. After the Tartarus he had gone through, this was a taste of heaven, like everything about that mare.
Still, it would not do to forego manners and the prince controlled himself to the best of his abilities. He might have slipped once or twice, but in the state he was, it would be forgiven.
She ate politely, more often than not stopping to look at his perfect physique and openly admire it. It made his ego flare up and he puffed his chest proudly, but otherwise stayed more focused on his stomach.
“Ah,” she sighed, with echoes of excitement in her voice, “now that you have been fed, I would very much like it if you graced my evening with your presence.”
“But of course!” He agreed immediately , slightly confused. She had saved him, how could he refuse? “As soon as you send the letter to Canterlot, we will have two days, maybe three, all to ourselves.”
“The letter to Canterlot…?” She tilted her head to the sides slowly.
“Hum… yes, the… hum…” He swallowed the last of his saliva, his mouth going dry. “The letter…”
“Oh!” She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, as did Blueblood’s spirit. “Yes, the letter telling her of you abandoning your duties!”
His heart sank and his mouth dropped. So shocked he was that no word would ring to his ears whenever he tried to speak.
“Oh, I can’t wait! We must send it right away!” She squealed like a schoolfilly.
“B-b-but…” What the hay was going on here?! Abandoning his duties? Whatever gave her the idea he would?!
“Oh come, my prince!” She took his hoof and started trying to drag him away. “Let us tell your tyrannical aunt and her oppressive traditions where to stick it and that our love will conquer every single barrier!”
Whoa, she had managed to mortally offend him and declare her love for him in the same sentence. He would be almost impressed, if he wasn’t suddenly dreaming of bashing her head in with a very rusty shovel.
How dare she accuse his auntie of tyranny?! She was the most marvelous mare in Equestria! And traditions were oppressive?! They were the structure that kept their world stable!
“What are you talking about?” He asked quietly, livid beneath his fur.
“M-my prince,” the crazy mare stuttered, as if not believing her ears. “I’m talking about our fated reunion. I knew from the moment I recognized you in that cave that it was fate that I attended that auction. I did not even need the additional servant.”
As her speech went on, her expression became more and more dreamy, as if she was recalling the most marvelous of stories.
“I just knew, after all these years spent trying to speak to you again, that it was fate bringing us together!”
Oh dear, she was another one of his crazy fanmares. Emphasis on the ‘crazy’. Just great.
Though now her frame was starting to ring a bell.
“Our first meeting was cut so short by the call of traditions, but I remember that longing in your eyes and the silent apology you gave me when you left. It was the proof that you love me!”
Oh, yes, that mare. Eh, he almost laughed in her face. He remembered her. She was that pleasant-looking pegasus from the Gala, four years ago. Her looks had, of course, been a very definite plus, but she had kept making those little squealing sounds and apologized every time he had tried to engage a conversation with her.
Needless to say, he had gotten very fed up quickly and had jumped on the first excuse to leave her behind. That “silent apology” she was talking about was him claiming he had promised to see his auntie before the celebration ended.
And it looked like the years had not been kind to her mind. “I hated every seconds away from you, my prince. How immense was my despair when everything conspired against us!”
“Yes, even the butlers did…” He snorted in annoyance.
Why did his dashing good looks attract nothing but crazed romantics and gold-diggers? There had been a grand total of two mares not fitting in that category and one had been boring him to the point he fell asleep in his soup.
“Oh, but no more, my prince. We are finally reunited!”
He stared at her with disdain. Really? This was pathetic… And to think he considered matching her with Valiant Winds? If he had known, he would have banished the thought as soon as it formed.
Even the egoistical pegasus did not deserve that.
“Nothing will keep us apart.” She jumped onto him, latching on his neck and hugging him strongly. “I love you, my prince!”
Yes, it was all good and all, but he really needed to get away from her and possibly send a letter to his aunt. Though the ‘escaping crazy mare’ part was by far the most urgent.
“Please…” She whispered lovingly, “Say it. Say that you love me. I want to hear my name coming from your royal lips.”
At that, he nearly burst laughing. Oh dear, this was a good one.
“Hum…” The prince said, sounding very confused. “Who are you again?”
As she recoiled in shock, eyes wide with betrayal and anger, Blueblood suddenly remembered an old saying his aunt had told him.
‘The Tartarus hath no fury like a mare scorned.’
It was official. The crowned prince of the unicorns was an idiot.