Blueblood's Ascension Part III; or, Even Alicorns Have Dreams

by MyHobby


Begging Your Pardon

There are some who would describe Blueblood’s voice as high-pitched for a stallion. He would deny it, of course, saying that it was well within the normal range. Some, though, might even go so far as to say that his voice came out as a constant whine.

“I’m not whining!” Blueblood would whine.

“That,” they would say. “That right there. That’s what I mean.”

Blueblood was not very fond of some.

“Some” in this case referred to a pony who had far more interest in Blueblood’s political stature than his person. He was a pegasus stallion by the name of Salacious P. Boysenberry, whose special talent revolved around remembering the exact details of any cutie mark he came across, even long after the first viewing (indicated by a cutie mark consisting of opera glasses that reflected a clump of berries in its lenses).

Blueblood couldn’t especially think of a good use for that talent, but ’twas not his concern.

Salacious had inevitably come to the conclusion that to impress the prince, he should give a detailed critique of the royal’s foibles. Oh yes, Mr. Boysenberry, he most certainly appreciated having the sound of his voice put into question! Please do go on! Perhaps next you shall critique the color of Blueblood’s eyes, or perhaps the curvature of his buttocks!

Then again, Salacious had already committed Blueblood’s compass-star cutie mark to memory. Dash it all.

Blueblood, for his part, sat quietly. If a bit grumpily. He merely gave Salacious P. Boysenberry the lesser share of his attention. The remainder of his thought-process carted over to the events of the night previous.

“How stupid of me.”

Salacious blinked rapidly as he brought opera glasses up to his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

Blueblood jolted out of his reverie. “Oh! No, I beg your pardon. I admit to my mind being elsewhere.”

The pegasus nodded in understanding. “Is that why you wore your underpants to work today?”

Blueblood started. He would have followed up with a mighty, “Now I really must beg your pardon,” but that was before he took a gander to his aft section. Plain as day there sat a lovely set of black boxers that were decorated with white polka-dots.

“So this is one of those days, is it?”

Salacious nodded. “I’ll say. Especially since this is ‘Wear Your Stockings to Work’ Day.” He held up a forehoof and jiggled it before Blueblood’s face. It wore a many-colored, striped sock made up of at least ninety-percent cotton.

It was a nice sock, Blueblood admitted, but he began to realize he had absolutely no idea what was going on. A glance back at his rump revealed that his boxers had shifted color to that of the always classic white-with-red-hearts. “Um…”

Princess Twilight Sparkle walked past, her legs bedecked with neon-green trappings. “Hey, babe, what’s with the groovy pants?”

Her wingtip touched Blueblood’s shoulder, sending jolts of electricity down his back. “I-I-I absolutely must beg your pardon!”

Before she could answer, the mighty voice of Princess Celestia towered over all. “Cease this tomfoolery!”

The sovereign marched forwards into their midst. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat that extended far past her person in all directions. The overalls were also a nice touch.

“Get thee to mine fields and work ceaselessly, for harvest is nigh!” The bit of straw in her mouth traveled from one side to the other. “Blueblood, thou art to be secured to mine plow.”

Salacious shrugged at Blueblood. “Should have worn the socks.”

Twilight pouted. “Groady, Dude Celestia! My peeps and I were just chewing the fat—”

“Cease thy butchering of slang,” Celestia drawled. “Thou art not to assist in Blueblood’s labor. Now fly!”

Blueblood’s next thought came in the form of the yoke being set around his shoulders. It felt heavy, but it seemed beyond sheer weight. It felt as though it dragged him down of its own accord. Despite that, he pulled. He pulled, and he sweated, and he heaved, and he fought.

A glance back showed that his progress amounted to exactly five inches.

That, too, was classic, he decided. Wholly expected. Completely unorigin—

At that point, he stopped caring about it one way or the other.

Atop a hill, on the far end of the field, was an image of beauty. The sun rose behind a mare of pure white, whose mane was pink as the sun-kissed clouds. Princess Nurse Redheart’s flowing dress blew in a wind that he couldn’t feel, and her mane waved about in the loose bun she usually kept it in. She looked his way, batting her eyelashes all the while.

Homina, he thought to himself.
He took a step forward, but found his progress arrested by the weight of the yoke and the plow. He snorted and gave a harder pull. The reverberating “clank” that answered let him know that he had hit a rock, unbreakable as any other.

Twilight Sparkle appeared beside him, her horn aglow. He gasped and raised his hooves. “Don’t! Celestia said you can’t help me!”

She lifted the rock aside and grinned at him. “Don’t sweat it, babe. Smooth sailing from here on.”

At that moment, she closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

Blueblood stared at her for a while, his jaw hanging loose. He turned back to the distant Redheart to find that she was just a meter away from him, also puckering. Silence descended as everything became still.

“Ooh, have we come to the part where this becomes Freudian?”

Blueblood stood up straight, the weight of the yoke forgotten. “Hullo, Father.”

Bluemane Blueblood trotted up at a brisk pace. Blueblood thought it odd that his father didn’t seem to be hampered by a false limb, but the wooden leg appeared the instant the notion entered his head.

“I’m afraid I must beg your pardon,” Blueblood sighed. Upon his bum, his boxers gained an array of smiley faces.

His father waved a hoof to the two mares to either side. “I suppose I should apologize for interrupting whatever’s going on here, hmm?”

“Oh, not at all, not at all,” Blueblood said. His eye twitched towards Twilight, whose every fiber had grown static. “Though, I hesitate to thank you, since I don’t appreciate these intrusions on my dreams.”

A smirk found its way onto Bluemane’s face. “Consider this a little reality check. A little tap on the shoulder letting you know that you messed up.”

Blueblood pursed his lips. “I believe I have enough reality in my life, thank you very much.”

“Take these two mares for example,” Bluemane said as he brushed past his son. He ran a gentle hoof across Twilight’s cheek. “This one was only trying to help, but you spat in her face.”

Blueblood drew back. “I did not—”

“And this other,” Bluemane continued, laying his hoof on Redheart’s back. “She you strung along, rather than reject her outright. How much false hope did that one little dance give her, hmm?”

“Get out.” Blueblood pointed a hoof at his father. “Get out of my dream. Get out of my head.”

Bluemane chuckled. “There’s that whining again.”

Blueblood opened his mouth to protest, but got nary a word out before Celestia entered the scene. “Verily, what transpires?” Celestia asked. Her overalls shifted as she extended her wings. “Art thou wigging thyself out, Blueblood?”

“Wait, what?” Blueblood asked between rapid bouts of eyebrow raising. His eyes bounced between his father and the others present. “Am I seriously dreaming all this?”

Bluemane shrugged. “You tell me.”

Celestia’s head tilted upwards. “Forsooth! Something foul stirs upon the breeze!”

The moon appeared in the sky, though far more enormous than in reality. It shone far brighter as well, its radiance bathing all present with the soothing body lotion of the Royal Canterlot Voice.

Blueblood! It’s time to get up!

The ground shook as Celestia, Twilight, and Redheart dissolved into nothingness. The world fell away beneath Blueblood’s hooves, sending him tumbling into darkness. The image of his father’s gray, grinning face was the last thing he saw before wakefulness came.

***

Blueblood shot upright, his wings unfurled and his teeth on edge. There was a faint ringing in his ears. He turned slowly and carefully to look beside his bed.

Princess Luna, Princess of the Night, Mare of the Moon, Lady of Dreams, Empress of the Crystal Empire, and Waker of the Sleeping Alicorn Prince, stood over him. Her mane flowed in all its starry blueness, and her eyes were as flinty as flint itself.

That is, they could probably start fires.

“Thou art late!” she yowled. “Th—you—should already be on your way to the port!”

Blueblood glanced at his chronometer with bleary eyes. “I beg your pardon, but the airship doesn’t leave for another hour.”

“With an hour’s prep!” Her horn glowed as she whisked his blanket away. “If you wish your personal items to be on board, you will march your blond bonce to the station, pronto!”

Luna could be very convincing, as Blueblood found out in the following minutes. Before he could say so much as “Good morning,” he was at the front gates of the palace, his bowtie askew and his back heavy with saddlebags.

He threw his head back and trotted down the street, a subtle sparkle of magic adjusting his bowtie. His ear twitched as Luna flew on overhead. He shrugged and maintained his comfortable pace.

The city of Canterlot sparkled in the sunlight. Shops clambered with ponies buying, selling, and bartering for goods. Fountains flashed as the wishing bits within reflected the sky. A street musician played a rousing rendition of the “Pony Pokey,” eliciting giggles from his onlookers as he danced around with his accordion.

Blueblood missed it already.

A rainbow of color shot through the sky, and the faint sound of an electric guitar riff drifted on the breeze. Rainbow Dash skidded to a halt beside him, narrowly missing an opportunity to bowl him over. She brushed hair out of her eyes, not especially giving much care to where it went instead. “Hay, Blueblood. Already on your way, huh?”

Blueblood snickered all of once. “Apparently, airships require an hour of preparation that includes the passengers.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know anything about that.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Sorry that I didn’t come to your party last night. We had a wicked storm over the Everfree. Took the weather team all night to fight it back from Ponyville.”

“Hmm.” Blueblood carried on towards the airship docks. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that the party was a bust, then.”

Rainbow Dash scrunched her muzzle up. “Hay, just ’cause I couldn’t enjoy it doesn’t mean I don’t want anypony to enjoy it. What happened?”

Blueblood’s attempt to keep up his pace didn’t quite pan out. “Twilight tried to free me from the Tartarus oath.”

Rainbow Dash blinked. “And that’s… bad.”

“She tried to free me from an enchantment that wasn’t there…” Blueblood took a deep breath. “So I blew up.”

Rainbow Dash blinked. Again. “I know Twilight has some issues getting control over new spells, but—”

“Emotionally, Rainbow,” Blueblood sighed. “I got angry. I yelled. I walked away mad.”

Rainbow Dash squinted. “And you haven’t apologized or something?”

“No, I—”

She slapped him on the back of the head with her wing. “Well, then when were you gonna apologize, dummy?”

Blueblood rubbed the sore spot. “I haven’t had the time.”

“Yeah, no time to waste!” Dash rifled through her saddlebags until she could produce a sheet of paper. It was a list of facts and figures on various weather patterns in and around Ponyville, most of which made little sense to him. “Here, write some sort of note on the back.”

He took the page and stared at it. He tripped over a loose stone and decided to keep his attention on the road. “I suppose that’s the least I can do.”

She gave him a pencil next. He tapped the eraser against his lips as he considered.

“Quit it,” she said. “I have to hold that in my mouth, you know.”

In a moment of weakness, he allowed a salacious grin to spread across his face. “Most mares wouldn’t mind, you know.”

She gave him a look, one that featured rolling eyes, bared teeth, and hissing breath. “Most mares don’t know you as well as I do. Write.”

Rainbow Dash listened to the pencil scribbling against paper. She couldn’t resist another eye-roll, nor the tiny “Feedbag” that escaped her mouth. The page flapped as Blueblood folded it over and held it before his face for a solid minute. He sighed as he handed it back to her.

“I think I’m getting better at this whole ‘apology’ business.” Blueblood waited at the curb for a speeding carriage to roll past. “I’ve certainly been getting practice.”

She tucked the scrap in her bag, gracing him with one of her more humorless smirks. “Yeah? Prove it.”

Blueblood grimaced. “Please forgive my indiscretion.”

“I’m gonna assume that means the same thing as ‘sorry.’” Rainbow Dash flicked her mane back and held her nose in the air. “You are forgiven for your indie sketching.”

Blueblood barked out in laughter, much to Rainbow’s bemusement. It petered out into a chuckle, which vanished completely as the zeppelin port rose into view.

Though, to call the flying machines “zeppelins” was a little unflattering, and perhaps entirely incorrect. Balloons triple the size of freight train cars rose into the air, filled with copious amounts of helium. Steel wire trail down from these canvas sacks, strong enough to hog-tie a herd of elephants. Beneath the balloons, arrested from downward movement by the wire, there was an immense variety of ships.

Small personal yachts floated alongside massive passenger ships. Some were made up of wood, some aluminum. A silvery bullet settled into port, while a sizable galley fit to sail the seas departed. The one similar feature among the ships was their narrow front, wider middle, and tapered aft sections.

A steely eye could pick out the Royal Airborne’s flagship watching over the port. A Pony-of-War around sixty meters long, it held eighty shutters that concealed various magical and mundane instruments of destruction. Sails as tall as the ship itself lay unfurled on either side of its hull, and the crests of both the Princess of the Day and the Princess of the Night decorated its sides.

Blueblood’s attention fell on none of this, however. He was more concerned with the largest vessel in the port, the one that would bear him to Tartarus. A wooden frame that nearly dwarfed Ponyville sat beneath three balloons that could have held up the Pony-of-War singlehandedly. Its sides were squared, only holding the smallest hint of an aerodynamic bend. The center of its hull had a door that was three decks tall, and collapsed into a ramp to allow easier entry onto the ship.

“The Sky Ark,” he breathed.

“I’ll admit it,” Rainbow Dash murmured at his side. “That’s pretty impressive.”

Their heads turned at the clomping of hooves. Princess Luna strode up to them, flanked on either side by Redheart and Vinyl Scratch. To the prince’s dismay, his father trailed along a few paces behind them.

“You’re late,” Luna said.

Blueblood lowered his eyebrows. “The Ark is still here, is it not?”

Luna snorted. “I’ll take your bags; you can say your goodbyes.”

She adorned her sides with his luggage and fluttered off towards the vessel. Blueblood chewed his bottom lip and attempted a grin. “So, what brings you two to the port?”

Vinyl’s frown nicely accompanied her reddened eyes. Redheart’s slightly-less disheveled visage cracked a grin. “We didn’t want to you leave alone. Er, didn’t want you to feel alone. Before you left.” She nudged Vinyl in the ribs. “Right?”

“Yeah,” the DJ muttered. “Hey, BB…”

Blueblood shrunk back infinitesimally as her eyes bored into him. “Yes?”

“Give those Nightmares heck, you hear me?”

He sighed through his nose. “You have my word.”

Redheart scuffed her hoof on the ground. “Th-thank you, Blueblood. For last night.”

A smile threatened to brighten his mouth. “I would say ‘you’re welcome,’ but I would have to ask ‘what for?’”

“For the dance.” Redheart swallowed. “And the talk, and… Thank you.”

His smile vanished, leaving a shallow grin in its place. “You are very welcome.”

Bluemane Blueblood’s brow furrowed as he watched his son and Redheart shuffle their hooves around. “I’ve also come to say goodbye. And… to ask a request.”

Blueblood squinted. “I’m not sure I care overly much about what you have to say.”

Rainbow Dash and Vinyl trotted backwards as they smelled a domestic dispute of a sort brewing. Redheart settled for a step towards Blueblood, standing not quite next to him, but not quite away from him.

“Don’t be a fool.” Bluemane’s eyes trailed to Redheart and softened, but quickly reset themselves on Blueblood. “The curse… you know of the curse.”

“Of course I know of the curse,” Blueblood scoffed. “I’ve heard of it since I was a colt. I haven’t seen anything to tell me that it’s anything but the consequences of your bad choices. I’m beginning to believe that curses aren’t real.”

“They are, too!”

They all turned to Redheart, who was biting her lip as her cheeks tinged red. “I mean, you might want to listen, Blue Ey—Blueblood.”

Bluemane’s mouth dipped open, emitted a few blathering noises, then clamped shut. “Very well, then. While you are in Tartarus…”

He sighed as he briefly glanced at every pony present. He met Redheart’s eyes and lingered. “Please find all you can about the one who cast it. Do everything you can to free our family from it.” He lowered his eyebrows and brought his chin to his chest. “Save us from the fate of my father.”

“Papa Bluehooves was always a little thick in the head,” Blueblood said, “but… I shall. For both our sakes.”

He looked at Redheart, Vinyl, and Rainbow in turn. “And thanks to all three of you for seeing me off.”

“No big.” Rainbow Dash waved a hoof. “You should probably get your rear into gear, ’cuz I think Luna’s almost foaming at the mouth over there.”

Blueblood would have said that she was not so much foaming at the mouth as erupting in the vein of volcanoes, but he would have digressed. “So it seems. Farewell, everypony.”

As he flew off, Rainbow Dash called out one last time, “I’ll make sure Twilight gets your note! You can count on it!”

She turned at the sound of horrified chokes. Redheart and Vinyl were both darting their eyes around the port, not quite settling on any one thing to look at. “What?” Rainbow asked. “What’d I say?”

Redheart turned to Vinyl. “I know we weren’t supposed to tell Blueblood about Twilight, but what about her?”

Though she was a bit shorter than them, Rainbow Dash was quite capable of glaring down at any pony she wished. “What about Twilight!?”

***

Although the size of the Sky Ark was impressive, the interior had a surprisingly small amount of room for a full-grown alicorn stallion to maneuver. Blueblood ducked beneath another support beam as he pulled himself through the halls. “I don’t suppose first class has better clearance?”

Luna bent down low, almost to the point of crawling on her knees, as she made her way behind him. “First class? What’s that?”

Blueblood gritted his teeth. “It’s this lovely little concept where a passenger can pay a little more money to be a little more comfortable on their trip.”

Luna’s horn impacted a support beam with a reverberating “twang.” “Eeeah! That seems a lovely sentiment.”

“Oh, for certain.” Blueblood’s wings pinned tight against his sides as he slid through a narrow doorway. “Another fork ahead.”

“Take the left path,” Luna grunted. “We’re close.”

Close indeed, for the next turn led them into a large, cavernous room lined with various woodwork tools and discarded scraps. In the middle of the room was a small, skiff-like construction. A meter-square roof was erected over a battered, haphazard ship’s wheel. Behind the wheel was a hefty, tin-plated boiler that appeared to have been pounded into a roughly round shape out of scrapped sheets. It was connected, via a pulley system consisting of a few threadbare ropes, to a series of propellers aimed towards the rear of the craft. Patchwork balloons hung from the ceiling, awaiting the moment when they would be filled with lighter-than-air gasses.

Blueblood suspected they would pop the instant they were filled. “What a piece of junk.”

Yearling Hawk will get little pony where little pony needs to go,” a craggy, phlegmy voice piped up from within the ship. “Don’t need polish when gots character.”

Blueblood hid a smirk by studying the ceiling. “It certainly looks like it’s built a lot of character.”

A diamond dog poked his head above the side of the moored airship. His dirty white coat was broken up by a brown spot around his eye. He nodded at Blueblood. “Lots and lots of character!”

The prince smiled as he turned to Luna. “Now, what was the purpose of bringing me here?”

Luna gestured to the airship. “Captain Wishbone Fluorspar here”—the diamond dog waved enthusiastically—“is going to fly you to Tartarus.”

The grin froze on Blueblood’s face. “I beg your pardon?”

He wrapped a foreleg around Luna’s neck and led her a few meters off to the side. “He’s going to fly me?”

Luna nodded as she removed Blueblood’s hoof from her shoulder.

Blueblood gulped. “In that?”

She nodded again. “The path to Tartarus is treacherous. The Sky Ark shall carry you most of the way, but you need a smaller vessel to make your way through the Sleeping Mountains.”

She lifted a hoof towards Captain Wishbone and loudly declared, “Fear not, Captain Wishbone is the pilot most familiar with the route to Tartarus!” She took a step back and quietly added, “From an admittedly small reference pool.”

The boiler behind Wishbone hissed, prompting the diamond dog to scream and repeatedly bash a wrench against its side. The dog bared his teeth in an odd approximation of a smile. “Sometimes Yearling Hawk misbehaves. But Wishbone fix her. She build lots of character.”

Blueblood grimaced. “I suspect this is indicative of something, but I can’t quite put my hoof on it.”