//------------------------------// // Pleasing Blueblood // Story: Beauty and her Spike // by FlimFlamBros. //------------------------------// The snow continued to gently fall down outside the tower’s window. Rarity watched the small beads of ice flutter down the landscape, covering it with winter wonder. This was her favorite time of year; she could dress up in her cute little coats and scarves, try on her latest boots and take nice strolls through Ponyville and watch the colts and fillies laugh and play in the snow. It was a magical time of year. But no more. Now it seemed dead, dormant and depressing. For on the other side of that thin layer of snow lay nothing but death and misery. Leaves would brown and decay, flowers would shrivel up and die, animals hid in fear of the wintery jaws of death. Winter wasn’t the same anymore as she watched the carriage carry her father away from her, back to her old life, a life that seemed like nothing but a faded memory disappearing in the chills of the wind. She started to cry. “Father…” the mare sobbed. It was all she was able to whimper past her tears. How had her life come to this? Alone, miserable, and cold in a tower of a greedy and terrible dragon. She could never forgive him for doing something so cruel, so evil. So greedy. “Why…why has my life become so pathetic?” she muttered to herself. “Is this my destiny? To spend my days as a slave to some greedy monster? Some beast?” She took a look out the window, the tracks of her father’s carriage slowly fading away, covered by the falling snow. “At least…at least he’s safe,” she sniffed. “I will always love you…Daddy.” Rarity continued to break down, the miserable emotions washing over her as she saw fit to curl up into the pile of hay as if to die, to close her eyes and be free of this waking nightmare. Spike watched her silently from the shadows. He could see how distressed she was and his own feelings seemed mixed and confused. On the one hand, he finally had the mare that betrayed him, the one that caused him an untold amount of misery, pain, hatred and heartbreak. It would be easy to get his revenge on her for what she did to him. She was the monster that made him into one, and he had so many delightful ways to torture her, to make her scream, to do what she did to him and tear her perky little heart out. On the other hand, this was Rarity. She was his friend, and the feelings that he harboured for her were still very much alive and in a constant conflict with his darker self, the other half that wanted to see her dead in a gutter. But every time he though a nasty thought, there was a flash of hope, a reminder that this wasn’t who he was. He was not a monster, not a freak. He just looked like one. “What to do with her…” he mumbled, looking down at his claws. Sharp and sleek, they could rip into flesh with ease… “Umm Spike?” He blinked. Looking down at the floor, seeing Pinkie Stick lightly tapping at his ankle. “What do you want?” he growled. “Well…” smiled the candlestick. “I was just thinking that… Well, the tower isn’t really the place for a lady-“ “But it’s a place for my prisoners,” the dragon barked, making sure to keep his voice down, lest certain ponies were to hear it. “And it’s what she deserves. After all she’s done…” “Okay Mister Grumpy,” the former party pony said sternly. “I think we need to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and realize the blessing that literally walked into the castle!” “This isn’t a blessing,” shuddered Spike. “It’s an omen, a curse, a constant reminder of the pain and suffering…and my mistake.” “Exactly. Your mistake,” said Pinkie. “Not hers. You don’t see the opportunity we have here. She can break the spell!” “The spell…” sighed the dragon, glancing down at his violet claws. He rubbed his thumb against his fingers feeling the toughened scales that had calloused over the year. He dragged them across his aged and hideous face, massaging his brow as he contemplated his options. “It would never work. She hates me…” “Yeah, imprisoning her father and then enslaving her kind of does that to a girl,” mumbled the candlestick. “Shut it,” Spike growled. “Sorry,” she admitted. “Anyways, I’m just saying that if you were to give her a chance and control your temper, you could fall in love and the spell would be broken!” “I don’t know… I mean look at me.” “Spike, it doesn’t matter what you look like,” said Pinkie. “What really matters is what’s on the inside.” “Unlikely…” “Look, let’s take baby steps, okay?” the candle suggested. “We’ll start with inviting her to stay in one of the guest bedrooms. I’ve already asked Twilclock to get the others to tidy it up a bit.” The dragon thought it over. “You think that would work?” “I’m sure of it,” she smiled. “I know our cute little Spikey is still in there, and I know he would never want to see Rarity get hurt, or to see her sad.” He sighed, feeling a little defeated. “I suppose… I’ll ask her to sleep in the guest bedroom.” With another heavy breath, he slowly stepped out of the shadows and made his presence there known. “Hello…” he said, doing his best to keep the surging anger from erupting within him. “Ah!” the pony shrieked, shocked from the large dragon’s sudden appearance. “You startled me.” “Yeah…” he said, drawing circles in the ground with his feet. “So… I was… Just come with me. I’ll show you to your room.” “M-my room?” the shivering mare asked. “Do you want to freeze up here in the tower?!” he asked impatiently. “No…” “Then follow me,” he grumbled, turning around and crawling to the door. He turned around. “Are you coming or not?” Rarity nodded her head obediently. “Y-y-yes,” she said, slowly following behind the hulking beast down the stairs to her new life. ***** “Goddess, I’m depressed…” moaned Blueblood as he dragged his crayon across the paper. It was a little later in the evening, the time for his colouring. He was never particularly good at it, but something about the mix of scribbles and colours tended to make him feel better, like an uplifting joy as all his troubles were lifted away and he could revert to a simpler time without responsibility or worries. Not that he had any of those. Consort watched over him. It was always so peculiar to watch him colour, like he was reverting to the little foal he once was and would become more tolerable. “How’s the prince doing?” The consort peaked over his shoulder and smiled. “Feather Duster, don’t sneak up on an old stallion like that,” he chuckled. “You could give me a heart attack.” “You’re not that old…” smiled the maid, “I still love you after all.” “I’m older than you…” “What’s a few years?” she giggled. “Well, twelve is sort of cutting it,” he responded. “Oh don’t make things weird,” Feather said. “I don’t think of it what way. What is age if not a number? I love you for you.” “Kind of have to, not like I have anything else,” sighed Consort. “Not like Prince Blueblood or any other royal.” “Like I care for those things,” the maid said. “I choose to be with you because I love you, not because of your age or for your money.” “Thanks,” smiled Consort, giving her a quick nuzzle. “Now we still have to deal with the kid.” “Is he still colouring?” she asked. “It’s been over an hour?” “He’s depressed, I think.” “How can you tell?” “He’s said it like five times already, won’t shut up about it.” “He’s not good at taking rejection, is he?” she asked. “Never had to take it before today,” Consort sighed. “Another mistake I made with him, I always gave him what he wanted, never taught him to deal with rejection.” “It doesn’t matter now, I suppose?” asked Feather Duster. “He is who he is, not like he’ll ever change.” “I try not to think about it like that,” said the red-coated advisor. “I like to think that we can all change, even in a heartbeat. All we need is somepony worth changing for.” “Since when are you so philosophical?” laughed the silver maid. “Come’s with age, I suppose.” “Stop it,” droned Feather. She turned to look at Blueblood. “How much longer do you think he’ll be like this?” Consort shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “He could be stuck like this for hours. But at least he’ll be quiet till then.” “Uuuuuuuugh!” groaned the Prince, letting his face slam into the table. “Why is everything so complicated? What does she not see in me? I’m the greatest pony in Equestrian history and the sole wielder of the Elements of Harmony, what is there not to love?” “Don’t forget his personality of sandpaper,” whispered Feather Duster. “I need something to cheer me up…” the young stallion muttered. “Maybe I’ll fire some ponies… That usually make me feel better.” “Oh dear,” sighed Consort. “I think we’ve let him feel sorry for himself long enough.” “What are you going to do?” “What I do best,” the red-coated consort said. “Massage his ego back to its normal and somewhat imbecilic state.” “Fine,” droned Feather Duster. “I’ll get everypony else… You know I only do this because you ask me too. I could hardly care less for this job.” She turned around and walked away to gather the rest of the servants while Consort stepped into Prince Blueblood’s room. He knocked gently at the wall, alerting the prince to his presence, who responded with only a mellow groan. “Leave me alone, Consort,” he muttered. “I want to wallow for a few more hours.” “Sire, you know I have to get you out of this rut,” he said. “It’s not healthy for you to be so depressed. It’s bad for your complexion.” “Who cares...” “I do,” Consort said. “And I know we need to get to back on your hooves so we can get you a wife. Don’t you still want to be king?” “Yes…” the Prince Blueblood mumbled. “That sounds like work…” The red-coated advisor sighed heavily. “C’mon Blueblood, you have got to put yourself together…” “Gosh how it pains me to see you, Blueblood, lying around in a slump, And it’s my job to make sure, Blueblood, you never get caught in a rut, You’re one to be loved and desired, a legend to outlast all time, Now come in this room as we all worship you (but most of these things will be lies…)” “They’re ready for you,” said Consort, leading Blueblood out of his room. Outside of his room the servants were all lined up, every maid, butler and servant ready to amuse their employer. “No… ones… Great like Blueblood, Goes on dates like Blueblood, Draws poorly drawn pictures of crates like Blueblood! For there’s no one in town half as stalliony, a portrait, apure paragon… You can ask any Colgate or Berry, And they all would agree on what team to be on! (Not yours) No one’s cool as Blueblood, Swims in pools like Blueblood, (Is a giant doofus and a fool like Blueblood)” “Yes I suppose that I am quite fascinating!” “No one is quite like Blueblood!” Give five “Stomp-stomps!” Give twelve “Hip-hips!” “If I keep this up longer, I think I’ll be sick…” “I’ll be right back,” said Consort, looking rather green. “Feather, do you mind?” “Fine…” “Slender as Blueblood, Or as tender, Blueblood, Confuses stallion’s genders like Blueblood! For there’s no one as pampered or royal!” “I enjoy the most bodacious of care…” Free of all ruffs, kinks, and wrinkles, “And every last inch of me covered in hair!” (Umm… aren’t we all?) No one hits like Blueblood! Has a wit like Blueblood, No one’s head’s as incredibly thick as Blueblood! “I’m incredibly good at expectorating!” Ten points for Blueblood! “When I was a colt I thought that I was great, A deity higher than gods! And now that I’m grown I know I am great! I’m a monument that deserves to be awed!” No one swags like Blueblood, Hits the bag like Blueblood, … Running out of nice things to say about Blueblood! “So let’s just all just agree that I am so perfect!” “No one's quite like... Blueblood!” The servants were panting in mid pose as their song came to an end, the prince that they had worked so hard to cheer up smiling stupidly to himself. “I love that song,” he said. “Oh how I feel so much better now!” “I’m glad to hear that, my lord,” droned Feather Duster. “Shall we resume our regular duties now?” “I suppose so,” said Blueblood. “Where is Consort? I need to talk to him.” “I think he retired to the lavatories.” The Prince didn’t thank her; he just left the servants to their duties. When he approached the doors of the bathrooms, his red-coated assistant walked out, wiping something off of his lips. “Consort, there you are,” Blueblood said. “Come with me, we’re going back into town to make what’s-her-name my wife.” “Very well,” said Consort. “It’s nice to see you’ve gotten over your depression so quickly.” “What can I say? I’m amazing,” the prince said smugly. “Now come on, somewhere out there, what’s-her-name is grieving and lusting over me!” “I’m sure…” deadpanned the advisor as the two walked out of the train cart. “Shall we head back to her home?” “Not yet… After carefully analyzing the encounter, I have noticed a critical error in my approach.” “This should be good,” Consort thought. “And what would that be?” “I forgot to offer her candy, mares love that!” the price proclaimed. “Which is why we need to get some for her.” “A wonderful idea,” said Consort. “And I believe that there is a candy shop in town that has exactly what you require.” “Perfect, be a lamb and fetch the biggest and most expensive case of chocolate and then get me. I have another coloring session soon.” “As you wish, my lord.” “HELP! HELP! SOMEPONY HELP ME!” The shrill and desperate voice cut through the silence of the town. Everypony turned to see a distressed mustached pony running through the streets, wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt and a goofy straw hat. “Somepony help me please!” Magnum shouted. “He took my daughter! The monster took my daughter!” Whispers spread through the by-standing ponies. “What are you talking about?” one of them asked. “A beast!” proclaimed Magnum. “A giant fire-breathing dragon! He took my precious Rarity from me and locked her in his tower!” Gasps of terror echoed through the ponies. There hadn’t been a dragon problem in their town since… Well, no pony was able to remember, but that wasn’t the issue at the moment. “Where is this dragon?” asked Lyra. “Is it nearby?” “It’s in the Everfree Forest!” he said. “We need to rally up the ponies and save my daughter!” “Excuse me!” said Consort, walking up to Magnum. “My name is Consort, advisor to Prince Blueblood and secretary to the princess. If what you are saying is true, I should send word to Canterlot and inform the princesses about this.” “Wait…” said Magnum, “You work for the princesses?” “Yes,” nodded Consort. “If you could just give us your address we could send a carriage to your home and have you tell Princess Celestia yourself.” “Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you!” yelled the stallion, backing away from the red unicorn. “You’d like to know where I live and send me to Canterlot where you can throw me into some dungeon because I was on to your conspiracy!” “Conspiracy?” “I’ve been onto you and your schemes since the eighties,” growled Magnum. “I know that you sent those Timberwolves after my family, don’t try and deny it! All I wanted was to go on a nice vacation with my family and save some time. But you, the princesses, the government, everypony in the world is trying to squeeze every last bit out of me and take my FREAKING TEN MINUTES!” “What on earth are you talking about?” asked Consort. “We don’t have timberwolves under our employment. The very idea is just…silly.” “I’m on to you! I’ve said too much! I need to get out of here!” screamed Magnum, running away. “Can’t go back home, nowhere is safe! The government will get us all! Y-2-HAY! Y-2-HAY!” Everypony watched as Magnum disappeared from the streets and faded past the cottages and shops. The ponies of Ponyville quickly resumed with their daily business, leaving Consort and Blueblood confused on the road. “Well that was odd…” wondered Blueblood. “I never knew we had Timberwolves. How come I’ve never heard of them?! Consort, why don’t I have a pack of Timberwolves working for me?” “Because it’s idiotic,” he said. “And that pony was crazy…” “Yes…” hummed Blueblood. “He was… Hey what was that other name he mentioned? George or something?” “You mean Rarity?” asked the advisor. “That’s the name of the mare you’ve been wooing, or trying to at least. She might actually be in trouble.” “Yes… what’s-her-name…” “Consort I think I’ve been thinking…” “Should I be concerned—“ “Oh yes! You see that stallion’s What’s-her-name father, And his sanity isn’t the best, Now the wheels in my head have been turning, As I stared at that kooky old colt, You see I’ve promised myself I’d be married by now, And I’ve think that a plan has developed! “Oh… this isn’t going to end well…” “Sing it with me!” “No… one… Schemes like Blueblood, Is so mean like Blueblood, Nothing is as it ever seems with Blueblood! Soon my wedding is what we’ll be celebrating! No one’s quite like… BLUEBLOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”