“Blueblood”, his father had sagely remarked, “you must always know your place.”
A small white colt glanced up, bewildered, at a gaunt, greying unicorn dressed in the finest silks.
His father continued. “Now, Blueblood, it is your duty to do as I have done once I have passed beyond the veil. The same you shall ask of your sons and your grandsons. What is that, you may ask? It is service, service to Equestria and Princess Celestia herself.”
He paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Furthermore, colt, you must know the place of those who are utterly beneath you. Just as Princess Platinum, our honoured ancestor, bent the knee to Princess Celestia. Therefore, we must bend our knees to her, and those beneath us must bend the knee to both her and us.”
“No other House is as ancient as ours, none as worthy to rest so high. Though we dream of our gloried days as the rulers of all equines, our House has fallen since. We, the Lords of the Unicorn race have led our brethren – and thus, the other equine races in turn, to peace and prosperity. This you must always remember, and never forget. It is our House’s place to rule and lead, and in turn, serve.”
“And what if the Princess were to, for whatever reason, go?” enquired Blueblood innocently.
His father roughly smashed a hoof into the colt’s face, and spoke disgustedly, “Do not even think of such a thing! Our House’s time has long gone; only the Princess can maintain Equestria as it is today. It is Celestia who raises the Sun; it is Celestia who raises the Moon. She keeps the harvests bountiful, and the tides good. The lifeblood of the nation is Hers. Celestia, who protects us all. Our House, and those below us, have grown decadent and foolish since the era of Platinum and Hurricane. Though the era of feudalism has passed, the facts remain still: we are her loyal vassals, her most loyal servants, and I shall not suffer your speaking on such matters again. Seek not that which has fallen beyond our grasp centuries ago. No more can the Unicorn Princes raise the Sun; so our splendours grow old and faded, there is but one task we may yet fulfil.”
The colt looked down ashamedly, blood slowly trickling from his nose. His father placed a hoof under his chin, and lifted it up. Their eyes met, and his father continued.
“Know that without her, we are nothing. Without her, Equestria is nothing. You are nothing.”
“It is the duty of every son or daughter of Platinum to do so whilst those below us choose to waste away under their own imprudence. To live and die in service to the realm, as your ancestors have done, as I will do, as you shall do. To do so without query or question. To do as our House has always done, and as our words dictate: So we maintain.”
She had gone.
The constant in everypony’s life had disappeared whilst visiting some forsaken little village nobody had ever heard of, inexplicably. She didn’t have to turn up for the Summer Sun celebrations there for any reason whatsoever. In the blink of an eye, she was gone. One small mistake was all it took. Celestia, Princess of Equestria. Celestia, who had united the equine races. Gone.
Perhaps Twilight was right; there had been rumours leaking out of Ponyville about how the Nightmare Moon had returned, and the entire country was in uproar. He had itched with uncertainty before Celestia left; itched with deadly certainty that his former classmate and acquaintance was correct. If they survived, he swore, perhaps he would strike up the intellectual ‘companionship’ they once had. It was a false hope, he scolded himself.
He had eventually come to admire her intellect, her dedication to her research, yet had shrugged away her concerns when she came to him. It was a myth, he told her, an old mare’s tale. Trust not in ancient prophesies and grand old legends. The world did not work in such storied ways. He had regarded her innocence as endearing, but dangerous. He regretted it now; perhaps his influence may have made Celestia do otherwise. Perhaps her beloved nephew’s words could have done what her faithful student could not.
The Stable of Peers had wanted to yield in a most disgraceful and traitorous act. Perhaps they truly wanted Celestia back, or perhaps they wanted to save their own skins. The latter was far more probable; most of the members, representatives and Lords had instead remained at home, cowering under their own beds. It had mattered not; he controlled The Stable, and with an iron hoof brooked no discontent. There would be no capitulation, no surrender, Blueblood declared, and if the Nightmare chose to come to Canterlot, then he would fight her himself if the Most Honourable Cowards of the Stable would not. Had they not sworn oaths of fealty to the Princess? Had they not repeatedly proclaimed their loyalty to Her and to the realm? If it was necessary, then the oldest House of them all would remind them of their errings and assurances. He feared the Nightmare not.
Every word he spoke was a lie, an utter rejection of what he held inside. He knew the odds, but perhaps all it took was one pony to stand up? Such a feat would surely fit the fabled accounts Twilight found, he chided himself mockingly. He was sure, though. Sure that if the Nightmare came then nothing could withstand it, and that if the Nightmare did not, all ponykind would slowly starve whilst he sat and watched, alone in ivory towers surrounded by strutting fools and dishonourable cowards.
But Canterlot held; order was restored, and the Council waited and prayed that their weak measures could repel such a primordial evil. Defeat was inevitable, yet Equestria was maintained.
It was all over in a weekend. Celestia’s genius of a student, a pretty young mare from the minor gentry, had did it, raising up and harnessing a magical force which all had long forgotten. It were as if, laughably, it were all a tale by some chivalric poet, or a story to tell to your foal to send them to sleep. Blueblood did not believe it, but knew only to loathe himself for it. It had all ended happily, but not by the effort of the Platinum Line. His prior criticisms and doubts upon Celestia’s personal student were wholly unfounded, to his disgrace. Were it not for the Elements of Harmony his follies could have shattered the realm.
The old certainties had gone, his mind asserted. To further loathe oneself was pointless, another part added. Celestia’s sister had allegedly returned. The old oaths and laws would have to be redrawn. The old loyalties renewed; ancient trespasses forgiven.
And above all, so too would be his post, his place in the Royal Hierarchy, his view and knowledge of the world. What could the Prince of Unicorns maintain if the status quo had changed so much? What duties need he carry out?
He was lost and confounded in the new Era of ‘Friendship’, of rule by diarch, of ancient magics and threats reborn.
And Blueblood, despite his skill and nature, knew not what to think nor do.
Blueblood had timely roused himself from his sorrows by the time the meeting had been scheduled to start. At least, that was what he told himself. More than ever, whilst he externally portrayed a visage of absolute stoicism, his mind and heart raged with discontent, distrust and above all, indecision. Looking back to his prior thoughts, there was a distinct irony about his current musings. What was happening now had happened mere years ago with the Nightmare Moon incident. Yet disturbingly, there was absolutely no clue whatsoever. No ancient prophecy, no letter left behind. Absolute nothingness, an emptiness reflected in his own heart and that of the noble few who would bear a part, but ultimately only a minor portion, of the burden he carried.
It is strangely familiar. Strangely welcome.
He flickered a quick over at a mirror in the corner. No signs of weakness were allowed. A quick flash of his magic and the tears were quickly gone. A quick swipe at the mane; a couple of hairs dropped onto the table. The gold wasn’t vibrant enough; he noticed with a trained eye - he’d need to consider dyeing his mane. Finished with little time to spare; a series of knocks on the doors and the Council started to file in.
His cold blue eyes drifted over the other Council members as they took their seats. They were especially disheartened today. Typically, that was a fact to be enjoyed; something to revel on deep inside and a fact to be exploited, but Blueblood discouragingly lacked the energy and the mood to do so. It felt strange to acknowledge another pony’s troubles, let alone that of the highest gathering in the land. The lethargic melancholy in the room was infectious. An outsider would seem astonished that such ponies - despite their ability and usual mannerisms - would act in such a way. When Twilight Sparkle ascended to the position of Princess, the angered and neglected aristocracy caustically named it 'an Oligarchy of All The Talents', a weak jab at one of the youngest, ablest and generally most optimistic Royal Councils ever. Celestia, old and wise, Princess of the Sun. Luna, authoritative yet kind and ever vigilant, Princess of the Night. Cadance, his sister, all-loving and wilful, Princess of Love. Twilight Sparkle, supremely intelligent and immensely skilled at magic, Princess of Magic. In its heyday mere weeks ago the other High Officers of the Realm were as equally brilliant. Shining Armor, Prince of the Crystal Empire and Captain of the Guard, peerless at barrier magic and who possessed near-fanatical devotion amongst some sections of the Guards with his personality. Serene Bloom, the Chancellor, quick and decisive, an excellent financier and legislator. The others who served in the Royal Council, arguably lesser members due to their lessened influence, were as equally capable. Argent Typhoon, smooth and calm, a jack of all trades capable of fulfilling any role. Thunderclap, laconic yet brilliant, second perhaps only to Twilight in organisation yet far more efficient at doing so, a stallion who planned for every eventuality and famous for thunderclap efficiency in suppressing problems. Even the Royal Secretary, Raven, had an utterly comprehensive knowledge of the legal code. Blueblood himself filled a post – the very last, he considered it to be - amongst these brilliant elite. A spectre at the feast was how he regarded himself.
Blueblood was always discontented, however. He had agreed to the jape the petty nobility had made, to an extent, and helped fuel the fires of dissent in the Stable, resentful of so many ascensions, of his repeated exclusions from the very highest table at the feast. Now, Blueblood observed, it would become - under his watch, and devoid of its most illustrious members - a Ministry of All The Damned. A fitting epitaph indeed. So had it started with Princess Platinum, and so should it end with one of her line.
Their dark faces were in stark contrast to their surroundings. Smooth, whitewashed walls rose up to an elegantly decorated night-blue ceiling. Silver specks representing stars scattered over the azure plaster stared down over a carved, mahogany table resting upon a gold-trimmed carpet. A graceful silver chandelier, the glass as clear as diamonds, subtly basked the room in mild, golden light. Unlit brass torches, shaped like leaning ponies, masked artificial lights sat affixed to red-veined marble columns flanking hoof-made stained-glass windows lining the left side of the chamber. Cream-dyed silk curtains embroidered with pink lace lay limply by the side of each. A cacophony of colours and warmth juxtaposing stolid and taciturn ponies.
Raven, the Royal Secretary, was first to enter. A bespectacled white coated unicorn mare, with a neat, dark brown mane done up in a bun, the Prince had an undecided opinion of her. Typically, he had very little to do with her despite her position as one of the highest-ranking bureaucrats in the realm; their working relationship was ambivalent. That was an improvement from the pony who had formerly held that post, at least. He'd vaguely remembered strangling her predecessor over some petty narcotic-induced spat, though not to death. The Royal Secretary's function was to serve the monarchs of Equestria - in practice, this meant the 'higher diarchs', Celestia in particular. It was also the task of the Royal Secretary to contribute to discussions on the Royal Council, with the actual secretarial functions at such meetings being devoted to a Royal Under-Secretary or one of the other Princesses' personal secretaries. Principled, formal and exceedingly loyal to Celestia, Raven was not considered a threat by the weary Prince. However, his memories warned, the Royal Secretary could prove to pose an irascibly effective obstruction to any radical actions he intended to take. There’s hidden steel behind that demure exterior.
Frayed Inkwell, messy mane and all, clumsily stumbled after her. The bureaucrat responsible for taking the minutes at such meetings was normally a personal secretary to the chair; thus in this case, Inkwell, as Blueblood’s personal secretary, was to attend too. Inkwell was a better choice than Golden Letter, his under-secretary, he confirmed. Less likely to make a fuss.
After him, a more welcome face at last: the de facto 'Prince' of the Pegasi and of Cloudsdale, Argent Typhoon. A dark blue Pegasus with a well-brushed silver mane, Argent Typhoon was perhaps Blueblood's only proper 'friend'. A fellow of Blueblood's at school, and claiming descent from Commander Hurricane, the blue pegasus had everything Blueblood didn't. Relatively happily married, Argent was free to flaunt his successes before the world, but did not; remarkably for his position, he had a realist - bordering optimist - attitude. An accomplished soldier, he had been rapidly promoted to high rank before leaving the active services to notably serve in both the War and Naval Offices. He was, Blueblood had reluctantly admitted, the ideal of nobility in the flesh. Driven by a strong sense of noblesse oblige and a resourceful statespony, Blueblood would have loathed his very existence were it not for their childhood ‘friendship’. Interestingly, the pegasus tended to defer to the unicorn on a number of matters - including leadership, arguing that the latter was a far more able pony than he, a fact that Blueblood saw as being endearing and yet utterly 'mind-boggling', as the lower classes would call it. An exemplary right-hoof-colt was how the Prince regarded his old pegasus friend in turn.
Behind the pegasus trotted the Chancellor, Serene Bloom. A gold-maned and lilac-coloured pony, she was the image of a social climber but one could not drift further from the case. Though a socialite at heart, Serene was an accomplished sportsmare and had quite a grasp of economic and administrative duties. Blueblood felt that he had always underestimated her abilities, to his detriment at court and on the social stage. Beautiful, witty and intelligent, the Lady High Chancellor of Equestria was a unicorn scion of old earth pony nobility and had that good quality which was a distinct rarity amongst the inbred Canterlotian nobility. Blueblood regarded her with respect, a fine and accomplished colleague. A firm friend to Cadance, but not necessarily to him; firm acquaintances with a rather healthy respect verging on fondness for each other. Ignorant of his musings, she trotted towards her seat, pulling it back and dropping her saddlebags onto the ground. She pulled ledgers – the burden of any Chancellor – out of them with her mouth, absent-mindedly poking at her hair with her left hoof. Her hair intricately done up, and dressed in a delicate, fern green dress, a drift in his concentration caused the Prince to discern some similarity between the Lady High Chancellor and that accursed stalker of a mare from that cataclysm of a Grand Galloping Gala a while past. The Prince quickly shook such thoughts out of his mind. Serene was a far more proper pony, and infinitely better company than that shrieking beast of a siren.
The line of miserable officials was finished with two robust unicorns, one in gilded grey steel plate, and the other in gilded purple. Chief of the Equestrian General Staff Augustus Thunderclap and Captain-General of the Royal Guard Shining Armor. Both illustrious; both gleaming examples of their office. Both displaying distressingly glum expressions. Together, they represented the Equestrian military, though the matter of hierarchy was never particularly clear; Celestia was probably to blame, Blueblood had commented in the past. The Captain-General of the Royal Earth, Unicorn and Pegasus Guard, simply known as the 'Captain of the Guard' historically oversaw the operation of both the Solar and Lunar Guards throughout the country. The Chief of the Equestrian General Staff, on the other hoof, oversaw the entire Equestrian military as a whole, and acted as the highest uniformed advisor to royalty. Historically, one led the ponies to battle in person, and the other sat at the back, organising troop movements and the logistical necessities of war. It was rare for both uniformed chiefs to attend Royal Council meetings – Blueblood always felt that the Princesses found the attendance of both uncomfortable – but with the expansion of the administration, the responsibilities of both officers and the Council had expanded as a necessity too.
Years of intrigue and defence cuts had greatly manipulated the military landscape from the original intended purposes. Whilst the Captain of the Guard still only had jurisdiction over the Solar and Lunar Guards, Shining Armor had a far greater presence than his de jure superior, not least because he was ruling Prince of the Crystal Empire contemporaneously. Favourite of Princesses Celestia and Cadance (naturally) and highly charismatic, he was the de facto head of the entire Equestrian Armed Forces due to the fact that the Royal Guard had become the entirety of the Equestrian Armed Forces. The position of CEGS had since deteriorated, with the militia forces given autonomy or disbanded altogether and the Navy hit by multiple cuts. In practice, Thunderclap now served only to coordinate the operations of Equestria's military. It was an uncomfortable state of affairs for the two - proud stallions both - but cooperation was a necessity, particularly for Shining Armor. The recent developments in the Crystal Empire had left the Captain of the Guard less able to guard Canterlot, thus delegating much of the duties - those he found boring, Blueblood had concluded - to Thunderclap.
Though the power of 'friendship' and the Princesses was renowned, even Shining Armor was perturbed by the nature of the Guard in current times. The two had a tepid, respectful working relationship; petty service rivalries, especially considering the threats Equestria faced, was exceedingly inappropriate and demeaning to both the uniform and country.
It was Armor whom Blueblood had confronted the most, in Council and elsewhere. Rivalries between the nobility were independent from service rivalries, and fate had set them up to be rivals from the very first. They had went to the same schools, and both attended the Royal Equestrian Academy. Both had excelled in their respective years and classes; both vied for the top accolades. Yet it was Shining Armor who rose to the very top of the military ladder; Blueblood always resented having to pull back his scholarly ambitions on account of having to take up his seat on the Royal Council at a young age. Shining Armor had therefore sped past him up the military hierarchy. Even at the Academy, their military philosophies differed quickly as the two colts grew and studied, a portent of greater rivalries to come: Armor, naturally skilled at barrier magics preferred defensive moves; Blueblood, quick to anger, preferred much more aggressive and blunt methods in war. Their personalities and backgrounds simply added to this enmity. Armor was low gentry, naturally charismatic, humble and generous yet impetuous. Blueblood, in comparison, clothed and shielded himself in the garb of the old nobility and in irritable frigidity, a cautious but efficient operator. Both were exceptionally stubborn, and both proud. Cadance's betrothal and marriage to the up-and-coming guardspony had merely added more tinder to the growing fire, a fact that was additionally aided by Armor’s initial failure to defend Canterlot and his would-be-wife against the Changeling Invasion.
The fact that Cadance’s brother was mysteriously absent from the initial guests list had been pushed to the bottom of perceived wrongs as a result of foreign disturbances on the initially-planned date. Neither did the low-key rumours that were spread amongst the Messes and Wardrooms about how the Princess of Love’s inebriated brother had fought and led better than the groom on his wedding day help the frigid relationship. Blueblood had not particularly encouraged the rumours, but hadn’t suppressed them either. Somepony had to deal with the repairs, damages and casualties after all, and it wasn’t going to be the newly-weds, not at all. Or the Princess of the Sun, who preferred to gorge on baked goods and confectionery, and thus suspiciously nowhere to be found, for that matter.
The months following the Wedding had not helped hostilities. The grant of the Crystal Empire to his sister and her husband had quenched and tempered and hammered the animosity to an unprecedented extent. In the months that followed Blueblood’s veins boiled with hatred towards any mention of his accursed brother-in-law.
I should have been granted the Crystal Empire – not he! I had charted those lands, I had overseen initial exploratory efforts. What manner of pony is rewarded for abject failure in the face of the Realm’s utter ruin?
While Armor became unwilling to continue the feud, Blueblood had not been, yet tensions gradually relaxed. Armor had encouraged this, but Blueblood had largely ceded unwillingly, forced by the necessities of political manoeuvring - namely the Princesses putting their hoof down on the issue and Armor's repeated absence from Canterlot. The Realm and its affairs always took precedent over petty feuds, but the staple of Canterlot manners did not dissuade the hatred significantly. Resentful animosity yet remained, and was largely one-sided.
Perhaps Cadance did do something on his part, Blueblood mused as he observed his brother-in-law. He had noticed a considerable lessening in enmity from Armor recently, though it may have been the consequence of other factors. He did not expect much conflict from the saddened unicorn today, however. His eyes red from long periods of weeping, the tear stains were evident on Shining’s despairing look. Heavy, black bags under an emotionally-crushed stare. The Captain of the Guard took his seat, quietly and slowly, every step weary and unwilling.
Quickly, but gently pushing past his colleague, Thunderclap quickly approached Blueblood. The two exchanged a few words notifying the former of difficulties concerning the mission to secure the Elements, especially with concerns to difficulties in planning. Blueblood nodded in confirmation.
This will muddle things, but no matter. There is nothing more for us to do with regards to the Elements now. Steel thyself, Blueblood. There are some things even you cannot move, his mind scolded in a voice suspiciously similar to Celestia’s.
He’d have to be diplomatic; one could not afford to lose allies at such a possible time. Although Blueblood did not consider any of them enemies – indeed, the Council largely tolerated his occasional uncouth mannerisms and typically blunt nature, and Armor was at worst, a useful rival – now, of all circumstances, was one in which a lack of vigilance could be paid back in blood and suffering. Be diplomatic, he scolded himself. Your worthless life depends upon it.
He bit his tongue as the disappearance of the Princesses again came to mind, and pushed such thoughts straight to the back of his mind immediately. Now was not the time to grieve; he could always find time to do it later, he reminded himself. He quickly closed his eyes for a moment, and let the persona of a solid, capable leader wash over himself, suppressing ‘malignant contemplations’ to the best of his ability. He pulled his eyelids open with effort and steeled himself. His mind’s door slammed shut, the bolt passed and the key turned. As hard and constant as the North Star; driven by wizened blood as old as the equine races themselves. Unreactive and unable to be tarnished, the noblest of metals. He willed himself to live up to his names.
The wicked and the great have no rest. I am the former, but the latter?
Blueblood waited for them all to be seated before speaking up in a strong, confident air.
"I thank you all for attending today. As I'm sure you've all been informed, all four Princesses have, without prior warning, suddenly disappeared. We have no knowledge as to whether this was to their intent or not, but considering the circumstances and the troubles which have plagued Equestria as of late I am prepared to take the stance that this was done by a malignant force hostile to all ponies."
This was met with a strangely muted response; perhaps they had all reached the same conclusions. It itched of a plot, but Blueblood felt sure that those reactions - and the emotions on show - were genuine. Such were the advantages, and perhaps the dismay, of life in Canterlot. It steadily became more uncomfortable; he was sure there was something…off about the current situation. No, he pacified, there were no traitors here; he was seeing shadows where there were none. Emotions threatened to rise, but he suppressed them further with an iron hoof. Just the stress. No matter. Continue.
"As a result, I propose that we declare a state of high readiness, with myself as Regent of Equestria until the Princesses return. If they do not, we must be prepared to consider other options, such as declaring a State of Emergency and other less… comfortable decisions." Blueblood cautiously added.
Not that I know of any other options with the exception of absolute anarchy. And Celestia, how inglorious and burdensome the designation of ‘King’ would be…
Serene spoke up, her golden curls swinging as she turned towards the unicorn at the head at the table. "Do we inform the ponies of this incident? We surely ought to, but the reaction would be unthinkable." The worry and concern was evident in her voice.
"It is my intention to," Blueblood smiled slyly as he continued. "To at least cover up the situation, at least for a week. We cannot, however, utterly prevent the ponies from finding out, so I suggest a strategy of obfuscation for this interim period. It may be plausible to spin that the Princesses are incapable, perhaps due to a mysterious and unknown miasma that has affected them only. Something to be highly worried about, but no risk as of yet of a major pandemic. As the rulers of Equestria are largely incapacitated, we must act accordingly."
And now I'm taking cues from Inkwell? ‘Must be rather desperate times indeed.
"Of course, if there is no problem whatsoever we can easily spin it in our favour. If the current situation is permanent, we could perhaps manipulate the story so that their disappearance was perhaps influenced by this... condition. We will, of course, need to regulate the flow of information out of the Castle and out of Court with great vigilance, in order to keep the upper hoof in such matters."
Of course, despite what the ethic-less new money would say, drawing attention to oneself is not always the good thing. Hopefully it’ll also give me some breathing time before the assassinations start…
Serene appeared to accept this answer, and nodded in agreement; the Council followed and nodded assent, with differing reluctance.
"We need to find them!" Shining Armor suddenly exclaimed. "We can't just sit around like this while the Princesses and Cadance and Twiley have gone missing!"
Not now, you jumped-up foal…
Blueblood attempted to maintain control of the chamber in spite of Armor’s outburst. "Finding the Princesses is high amongst my priorities, but I believe strongly that our first task should be to guarantee the security of the Principality of Equestria as a nation before finding the Princesses. Al-"
"Stop blabbering and do something, you twit! Your sister - my wife - has disappeared! So has my sister and your aunts! We should look for them at once, you prancing oaf!"
How dare he-! No, Blueblood! The Prince restrained himself with difficulty. Now is not the time for such vengeful triviality.
"Armor, if you'll allow me to continue? Prior experience has suggested, if you'll pardon my cynicism, that such situations which ultimately threaten the Principality of Equestria's continued existence are resolved for an average period of about a weekend. For the first few days of the Regency we should look to Equestria's defences and maintain stability, before dispatching concerted search efforts. Parties have already been sent to the major guard outposts to inform them of the occurrences, and they shall mount rudimentary efforts for the time being."
"And if they are not found?" Argent Typhoon was next to form a query as Armor slunk back into his seat, temporarily exhausted and dispirited.
"Then, my dear Argent, I believe it may be necessary to consider permanent measures to ensure the stability of the realm as a whole."
"You mean to take the throne for yourself?" interrupted Armor again in a surge of anger.
I deserve it more than anypony, you commoner! I would like the Throne, but not like this…
"I…"
"But Prince Blueblood, there is absolutely no precedent for this!" intervened a shocked Raven before Shining Armor could offer a passionate or hate-fuelled rebuttal.
Blueblood groaned mentally, but was quick to form a response. "As I recall, Raven, the Act of Supremacy and Succession of 1593 rules that upon the extinction of the Royal line or the otherwise absence of alicorn rulers, that the descendants of the ancient Unicorn monarchs - most specifically the direct line of the House of Platinum, should take the throne in such circumstances, does it not? Additionally, the Celestian Treaty includes the caveat, section four paragraph two, I recall, that the Platinum Line is regarded as an extension of the Celestian Line in matters of succession and is in place to inherit should there be, again, no alicorn monarch."
Celestia, I’ve realised I know as much about the Order of Succession as Armor’s book-eating sister, heavens forbid. Never thought it would ever be useful…
"Yes," the spectacled secretary asserted, "but the most recent Acts of Succession ignores this caveat completely, instead detailing the line of succession from Princess Celestia down to Princess Twilight."
Blueblood fidgeted in his place, and continued insistently with mounting displeasure. "The recent Acts are but amendments to the earlier Acts of Succession! It matters not that the recent amending acts do not discuss the succession beyond the alicorn princesses; such Acts are merely amendments to the existing, or the formerly existing, alicorn or Celestian Line. It is clear that in the eventuality of the extinction of the line that the Prince or Princess of Unicorns ascends the Throne to rule in place of the alicorn Princesses. Besides, the Platinum Line has always had a claim upon the Throne of Equestria, and Princess Celestia has always recognised our claim, even if she never put it to paper in recent years."
End it there, Raven; I’ve no time for such pointless trivialities now. Why is it that all I seek is so poisoned and thorned? Yesterday, I would have taken the Throne with gratitude. Today, I would only take it if given, and not from the gutter, for there is nothing more repugnant, nothing more I would not wish to bear. But if it were necess-
"And what of the Crystal Empire? The Platinums have no claim upon the Crystal Throne, my Prince. By all other administrative Equestrian precedent of cognatic inheritance the Crystal Empire should be regarded as an independent sovereign entity, with the title passing to the next in line to the Crystal Throne. With the original Crystal Line extinct presumably due to the machinations of Sombra, it should legally be passed to Princess Cadance, but in her absence and presumed death and lack of issue it should instead pass to her husband, should it not? The Crystal Empire shall become an independent sovereign state with Shining Armor as sole hereditary monarch after the disappearance and presumed death of his consort leaving the sole remaining diarch of that state as the sole ruler of those lands. His heirs should inherit after him. And as the heir presumptive to the Equestrian throne lacks any claim to the-"
Shining Armor looked up in shock in reaction to this statement, as did Blueblood. The latter was more capable in hiding his surprise visibly, but failed to reign in his vocal cords.
Shouldn’t the title be rendered extinct or given to the ruler of Equestria?! Anyway, I’d be damned if we lose that frozen wastehole! Never, and not to him! The Throne is mine!
"I'm Cadance's bloody brother! I should inherit!" Blueblood rapidly yelled, considerably agitated.
"Not in your case, Your Royal Highness, on account of her spouse being alive and your not being an alicorn; alicorn inheritance has historically been superior to any other equine inheriting the throne of any Equestrian or sovereign Equestrian-influenced state with noted exceptions based upon repeated precedent and the original Act of Supremacy attended by both Princesses Celestia and Luna, wherein the Platinum Line acknowledged its inferiority, inheritance in particular, to the Celestial Line. Thus the inheritance of the Crystal Empire passes through traditional Equestrian cognatic succession, though as the succession of both it or Equestria are not expressed in detail, the fact that the latter has only been ruled by female monarchs may mean that absolute enatic successi-"
Oh for-
"Enough!" Blueblood roared, kicking the throne back from under him and standing to his full height. His countenance shattered, a terribly frigid and iron gaze fixated firmly upon Celestia's secretary. "If it would not displease your honour, but I was under the impression that we were not attending a Markers’ Meeting for the Annual Civil Service Examinations,” he said with false, stony deference.
“I have not yet stated my intent to fully take the throne of Equestria, nor that of the Crystal Empire, and be instituted as ruling monarch. It is my current intention to lead a Regency Council with myself leading it as Prince Regent. The Crystal Empire shall remain within Equestrian hooves and be regarded as a territory with devolved autonomy for the time being, with my good brother, Shining Armor, overseeing Crystal affairs from Canterlot and the Equestrian Civil Service administering it until further action is taken to establish an independent Crystal Civil Service or wholesale integration.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“Royal Secretary, the very nature of your argument exemplifies how well-suited you are for your office, and I greatly appreciate your knowledge in such matters,” Blueblood commented almost condescendingly. “Nevertheless, the security of Equestria and her dependencies is paramount in such troubling times. Internal integrity is thus of utmost importance; we cannot let ourselves become divided. As such, I have no intention whatsoever to allow it and its bounties to be separated from the Equestrian Throne; if it becomes necessary for me to take the latter, then we shall discuss the case of the Crystal Empire and the inheritance at such a date."
I would prefer to centralise power, and it would be better to integrate the Crystal Empire. I am not giving Armor sole rule of it. Besides, what is one additional crown when one is wearing one already? If the Platinum Prince is to carry, once again, the burdens of old, then let me carry them all.
Blueblood sat down and continued, more calmly. "My fellow councillors, may I suggest a period of about a month for us to properly gauge the situation before deciding on more permanent actions? If necessary, I will, of course," he took a deep breath, "take the Throne of Equestria, and perhaps the Crystal Throne if needed. I have no desire for it, but if Equestria demands it, then I shall ascend to it and accept this heaviest of burdens."
And they'll never know the truth behind that statement.
"We shall make every effort to find the Princesses before this tragic possibility occurs,” he stated with finality.
The Council seemed to grudgingly accept this resolution, for now. He regulated his breathing subtly, and loathed his break in concentration. Yet despite his indiscretions, he consoled himself, Equestria may yet survive another dawn. If it dawns again, Blueblood scolded himself in another stark realisation. Just because it dawned today did not mean it would dawn tomorrow. Is this how primitives think? It was greatly concerning that his reveries had moved to cover such areas, he mused, as it was troublingly approaching the thought process of a pony-sacrificing beast from the Mareyan tribes.
This was thankfully broken when Raven spoke up again, catching him utterly unawares. "And now, Prince Blueblood, how do we intend to deal with any threat upon Equestria whilst the Regency Council is in control?"
"Surrender?" Blueblood instinctively reacted, flippantly. A moment passed before he realised what came out of his mouth. Slack jaws and wide eyes all around.
Blueblood attempted to rapidly formulate a reply. "Well... if Chrysalis or Tirek or some other evil entity attempts to attack Equestria, that may indeed be our only option." he spoke with questionable sincerity.
Awful save there, you intolerable ponce. “’Surrender?’!” Even Princess Luna could be more restrained! Diplomacy, he reprimanded himself once again, and made a minor note to deal with his personal problems properly.
"Whilst I am loathe to demean our serviceponies, the reality is that the Guard is utterly incapable of mustering against such threats, and that they may only be of use in a conventional war." He took a breath and continued with increasing concern. "Yet even that may be doubtful considering the nature of military spending and the state of our defences."
A sobering silence filtered throughout the room as iridescent light cast long lines over the rich dark-brown table.
"We should hope for the better then," Argent negatively declared. "Nonetheless, we should be aware of the dangers of increasing military spending if we were to prepare for conventional war. Even if we were to sufficiently disguise the troubles of Canterlot to an extent that foreign or malignant powers are absolutely uninformed of our reduced operational and defensive abilities, such a mobilisation of either the military or the burgeoning military-industrial complex without sufficient justification would provoke intense investigation, to our detriment."
'Hear, hears' throughout the room. Blueblood turned to the Chancellor. “Serene, how is the state of the economy with relate to such matters?”
Flipping open a thick, heavily-bound ledger, the Chancellor rapidly glanced across the pages before formulating a reply.
“The economy is, for all intents and purposes, doing fine; however, we must be aware that once it is known that the Princesses are missing, confidence in the Government will fall. Additionally, it is possible that productivity may drop as a result of the lack of stability the Princesses ensured. I cannot advise a wholesale expansion of the Equestrian military at this time. I propose that we act with caution for now, and only expand the military – with the necessary financial measures – at a later date when the Regency seems secured for the long run.”
Blueblood swallowed. “Is it feasible if we mobilise part of the Reserve Fleet?” he posed the question to the room. “If we mobilise one of the older squadrons, on the pretence of military exercises, or perhaps as part of a delayed rotation schedule, the impact may not be as severe. We may even leave the unit on the reserve list but call up the crews, if the Staff and Intelligence are capable of dealing with such skulduggery.”
Nods of agreement. “Good. Then we shall do so as a minor precaution and hopefully, it’ll also be a temporary deterrent. We shall look towards long-term military spending should the current status quo continue at a later date.”
Argent spoke up, turning towards the targets of his question. “Shining, Thunderclap: is it possible to mobilise, or at least alert parts of the Guard without drawing undue attention? Whilst such a movement as to call up the reservists would generate undue attention, could we not at least place the Guard on a state of minor alert and move a few units towards the border with the appearance of intending to rotate out units at the borders?”
Shining Armor nodded in confirmation. “Yes, that is possible. We should also be considering the opening of the Guard as a whole to Crystal Ponies. It would greatly increase the pool of available recruits and may result in an initial increase in Guard strength, depending on the number of immediate enlistments.”
You don’t say, Armor. Increasing recruitment efforts resulting in increased Guard strength and reserve numbers?! What a novel concept! ‘Tis rather obvious why you didn’t join the Civil Service…
Thunderclap intruded, adding, “If it works well, it’ll provide an excuse for military exercises without causing undue tension. ‘Equestrian-Crystal cooperation’ or something.”
This was good, but somewhat uncomfortable. To gain such concessions from Serene – typically as peace-minded as the Princesses – was a dire indicator of their circumstances. It pained Blueblood to be unable to achieve more, but he grudgingly accepted the reality of their situation. Now was not the time for frivolous wasting on luxuries Equestria could not afford.
Though a couple of new warships could be useful, Blueblood. Then again, it might start an arms race…
A sudden thought intruded. The Equestrian monarchs rubber stamped every important action taken by the heaving bureaucracy. As the number of Princesses reached four, the bureaucracy could be easily expanded; it was not necessary for Celestia to supervise everything with three other alicorns on watch. Blueblood had been elevated to a position only slightly below the Princesses, resulting in him receiving what he perceived to be the fool’s lot of the paperwork; anything worthwhile that passed through his office would be checked by the Princesses; anything not seemed to go ignored. It was an astounding breach of security and an equally astonishing indictment of his character, he realised.
Either it was incompetence, trust or a treat in a crocodile’s open mouth. Neither is particularly desired.
Yet an impatient portion of his brain saw gold. He was now the sole Equestrian monarch. If he wanted, he could rule as a tyrant without any to question or dictate to him! Finally. The Platinum Line had regained absolute control over Equestria. Surely it would ease the inevitable pain and difficulty of rule if he were to have utter control… He glanced down at the itinerary which Inkwell had laid out. It would be a long meeting, and the backlog in paperwork would be massive. There was also that pile of plebeian reports waiting in his office…
What ill-starred oaths and fortune I must endure… But if I must bear the burden, I should bear them all. No. No, Blueblood, you cannot; honour, your life and your realm dictates you cannot. The Platinum that does not bend breaks. It is a metal, after all. Sort of. Bends to a point until it can’t return to its original shape; afterwards, may snap? Is it linear? Elastic limits and all that. What’s-his-face’s Modulus? Infuriating idioms.
If you are to serve Equestria, his mind spoke with surprising reason as it broke through the inanity, then your leadership will be measured in years and deeds. A dead pony has neither.
Fine. It was a disaster in the making, but one stallion could not keep Equestria together; he would have to delegate, a little. He’d bind the Council to his rule, if not will. It might even help expose plotters. Delegation of duties might be rather interesting. And while they were at it, they ought to change the equally accursed décor. Garishly optimistic. That would definitely not do. He should also get Golden Letter to invest in the wine industry, he also noted; a backhand deal or something. Whilst Prince Blueblood did not believe he was particularly skilled at foresight, with the exception of the paranoid conclusions one drew in his station, he was certain the vintners would have a very good year.
“Now, my friends,” he called out clearly, “I felt it best to clarify appointments in this Most Excellent Royal Council, and of the composition of the Regency Council for the time being…”
A thick, black cloak draped over his shoulders, the solitary figure lay hunched over a redwood table draped in charts and with ledgers and books filed high, illuminated only by a number of dimming candles.
Well-hued marble busts stared down from above the many bookshelves that lined the room.
A quiet knock on the door and a pink alicorn crept in. “Blueblood?” she ventured.
The unicorn in question, busily poring over a selection of thick tomes, lazily flickered his eyes towards the intruder. “Yes?” he questioned irritably.
“You shouldn’t do this to yourself, Blueblood. You shouldn’t act like this, and risk catching your death. Don’t even think about working yourself to death either, dear brother.”
“Somepony has to do it, Cadance. I must serve the realm and our House, even if you would not.”
“What?” exclaimed his sister in confused bewilderment.
“Armor is below you, sister. One of our House, especially one such as you, should not stoop so low as to consider a relationship with a lowly commoner.”
The alicorn’s eyes drooped in a mixture of disappointment, defensive outrage and pity.
“Don’t say that about Shining! He’s a fine stallion, and there’s nothing wrong with him! He’s an excellent Guardspony and very skilled with magic – he’s even been commended by Princess Celestia! He’s well educated, and his family traces descent from Star Swirl the Bearded! Blueblood, Celestia plans upon taking his little sister as her personal protégé!” The alicorn protested, but to no avail.
“Cadance, dear sister, it is the nature of our House and of our rank to suffer for the good of the nation. Such a relationship would be inevitably pointless in the long term. If you would propose to even consider a betrothal, imagine the consequences upon Equestria!”
The alicorn fumed, pink energies faintly glowing around her lithe form.
“You’re not father! You can’t and shouldn’t say anything on this matter!” She paused, calming down somewhat. “BB, if there were truly a problem with my relationship with Shining you’d know Auntie Celestia would do something about it. There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
She walked closer and stood in front of him, a mien of concerned worry evident. The magic softy dissipated; her brother found any use of her magical aptitude upon him exceedingly insulting. Regardless, the Princess pressed on, hoping that their familial love could persuade him to act otherwise.
“Blueblood, don’t be like father, please.” Cadence pleaded gently. “I’m worried about you. Don’t work yourself to death for nothing.” She tenderly placed a hoof upon a frigid shoulder.
He replied after a while, deliberately ignorant and abrasive. “I know that I am not like father,” he began with uneasy trepidation. “But with every living moment I wish that I were.”
His sister left without a word.
Unknown moments passed; the room dimmed. He took a lazy glance over his shoulder; to his distaste, the fire had cooled. He pushed out the seat from behind him, and walked out of the room, offhoofedly securing the cloak with telekinetic finesse. Pulling the door shut, he walked absentmindedly out, taking in the surroundings with every step and every breath.
The portraits and feats of his honoured ancestors adorned the grey walls. Great statesponies and generals in their prime, their forms heavy and accusatory. Every azure eye searing into his own, matching that Polaris gaze pound for pound. Cold and Bluest Blood of the finest sort frozen in the depths of the Windigo Winter, tempered by war, and quenched again by the Great Night. Blood aged over centuries of toil. Over fifty generations of his line had served in such revered capacities, he recalled distantly. Every one before him had served with distinction and courage, regardless of age or term of service. His father had served as Lord High Chancellor and Lord High Steward for over forty years. His grandfather was notorious for suppressing noble and pegasus revolts with an iron hoof. His namesake drove back the griffon. Amongst the Elite, Princess Platinum’s great-grandson was spoke of in dark, hushed tones, a grim pony infamous for rendering an upstart House utterly extinct. Others were renowned for monetary reform, foreign diplomacy or territorial expansion; all manner of successes were encompassed by the Platinums.
He remembered them all, knew of all the great unicorns that had led his House, and Equestria by extension, from the very first down to him. Though his father had initially drummed their names and deeds into him with the birch, he’d grown to seek them out of his own accord. Back then he would parrot how ‘one who did not know the past was destined to repeat it’. Now, he knew, one had to understand it, and whilst he felt as though he did, the weight of those aged actions grew steadily and steadily heavier. They had all earned their place there amongst those portraits and names. A gloried and heroic past resided within these ancient walls, he knew, and equally surged through his disturbed blood.
Glorious and heroic ancestors whose gaze and memory stonily judged the newest addition to their line, he knew, but with far greater certainty.
A cold wind whistled through the empty annexes and passageways, drifting through his coat and mane, chilling the colt to the bone.
He would leave this place once he had fully taken up his post. Yes, he would relocate to the Castle, where he could perform his duties to a much higher standard. He could not sell the home of his forefathers, but their ghosts gave him no peace here.
He glanced up. A map of Equestria and her provinces. To the north, a wide expanse of land, encircled by a thin line of Equestrian pink. In bold, black capitals the text scrawled across the uncharted wastes denoted it as being the ‘Unexplored Northern Territories’. He had always liked maps. It was perhaps megalomaniacal, perhaps insane, but he quietly adored the canvas charts. There was something in every one, but there was always an appreciation for the labelling and legend, he realised. There was definitely a hint of megalomania. How proud would one feel to see one’s own achievements writ in solid black, draped across plain, mount or river? Accomplishments set eternally in ink, for all one’s descendants to gaze upon.
He would have to go there, to those unfamiliar lands, the pale white unicorn assured himself. It would not be dereliction of duty, he assured himself; he was merely rendering services to Equestria, but in another form. He would deal with the backlog of reports in time; he was still young, he considered, and a little extra work would do him no harm, even if he hated some of the work he was settled with. Celestia was wrong, he assured himself. He could bear such burdens, and more. Cadance was wrong, too. He needed no respite, nor relief. It was not a matter of pride, just fact. He of all needed no assistance, especially that driven by degrading pity. His glacial eyes gazed longingly as he drank in the utter blankness scratched upon the vellum. Perhaps there was something worth finding; something valuable to take out of it. Mayhap even something to make his name there. He could not abide dying without a feat or fact to his name; the silent dishonour of his idle youth unbearable to his disquieted soul. What use was knowledge and learning if one did not act? Did Blueblood II Polaris truly deserve his name on the Platinum Roll?
Perhaps it would even clear his brain, that infinite pit clogged with pointlessness and ineffectual strife.
He would yet find out, to his detriment, that the ghosts and sins of the past would allow him no peace.
The Prince watched from Celestia's throne as the Royal Council filed out of the room. Now was as best a time as any. The politician in him told him to deal with this as soon as possible. Empathically it was probably the best choice too. There was no lost love between the two brothers-in-law. But now, Blueblood grudgingly accepted, now was as best a time to seal old wounds as any. He could not afford to lose the Guard now. If Armor would even go as far as to accept his rule, and perhaps help solidify it, well, he could call one of the most accomplished and skilled magic-users in the realm – amongst the top five after the Princesses’ disappearances – as an ally. If Blueblood were an optimist, he thought, then he would ignore the recent run of misfortune his brother-in-law had endured. Though if he were, he thought, he would have to take into account Armor’s stunning service record, in which, remarkably, there was little need for him to take to arms, and which caused Blueblood to recommend that his brother-in-law invest in some spectacles. After a series of near-disastrous and recent occurrences, the latter were sorely needed. Realistically he hoped that his faith in Celestia’s personal assessment of Armor was well founded. After all, despite whether he was an optimist, realist or pessimist, his life did, uncomfortably, rely upon Shining Armor. Blueblood was not an alicorn, and it was no surprise to him that efficient cooperation from the Guard would greatly expand his life expectancy.
And if Cadance was gone forever...
That was not worth thinking about, his mind warned, but Blueblood did regardless. Do it now, when his mind was yet in one place. Do it now, Blueblood, before you fall apart.
He exhaled, and the immaturity dissipated slightly. If she was gone, then he could not disdain her memory, nor her feats, with petty rivalries. He could not blame him for Cadance’s disappearance, as he had done earlier. Admittedly, he would rather not have Shining Armor as ruler of the Crystal Empire – Cadance was a far abler diplomat and administrator, even if she were as unwilling to take up the post as was her husband – but that mattered not at the current time. An unnecessary power shift at the top of the Equestrian political ladder was dangerous for the state. Perhaps it would even be better if he had somepony he could trust, yet had considerable independent thought and ability, on the Crystal Throne rather than any old lackey or ignoramus of a sycophantic noble. The facts were obviously placed before him. Internal dissent was a dire threat to the non-visibly quavering state of Equestria; no matter the reasoning, it had to be dealt with.
Princess Celestia had always told him to be optimistic, to see the good in everypony. It was sound advice, he supposed, but then again, Princess Celestia had also left him alone to deal with the political, social, economic and geopolitical feedback and fallout of four? Five, no, six. Three? Multiple. Yes, left him to deal with multiple crises that threatened the very existence of Equestria in her absence, including this one. Four, definitely; the others are debatable. It was belittling, now that it sprung to mind again. If Celestia wanted a parrot, she could at least have the common courtesy to not use His Royal Highness the Prince of Unicorns for this purpose, could she not? Heck, she didn’t even give me any advice on what sort of horseapples to spew! That was laziness, and highly disappointing, to be frank. If she wanted to test him – and he could not discern any reason for it whatsoever, as he was not Twilight Sparkle – then could not Celestia at least attempt to do so with some enthusiasm? The idleness in the implementation was grossly offensive.
And if she wasn’t, she had a pet phoenix, did she not? Surely she could have trained it to stupidly parrot the same stupid services from its stupid mouth?
Speaking of which, Blueblood remembered, he probably ought to check on i- Oh Tartarus take that blasted phoenix! Ugly, fickle beast! A stupid prankster like its mistress! Wretched phoenix! ‘Can’t even die properly!
Blueblood shook the thoughts out of his irritatingly fluid mind. Celestia always bewildered him, always befuddled him. He exhaled once more and went back to the matter at hand.
He lightly coughed and called out.
"Armor. A moment, if you please."
He paused for a moment before turning around and answering with an interrogating affirmative. Blueblood nodded off the other council members before replying.
Continuing this rivalry is utterly irrational; having it may have been irrational in the first place.
"Shining. I would like a word with you." Shining Armor seemed hesitant to move. "A few, perhaps. About my sister - your wife. About Cadance." The Captain moved from his spot and took his seat at the table. Blueblood stood and slunk back into his old seat, opposite from Shining Armor.
"I know we have not always seen eye-to-eye, and that bitter words have been exchanged on both sides. Yet, considering the situation, we cannot afford such profligacy."
Ah yes, “profligacy”, such a useful word in such a situation, you dolt.
He lowered and softened his voice. "It would be to the dishonour of Cadance's memory if we continued as we did in the past. I know I spoke of the Princesses' disappearance somewhat lightly earlier, but that was not easy. It would demean all of them if we let their work go to waste on account of our past relations. It is high time to put aside our rivalries and put our full effort into maintaining, and perhaps better, Equestria for their sake."
Blueblood paused.
"I know it's hitting you hard; I still haven't fully become used to it. ‘Never was the best brother, but it's hard not noticing the void that Cadance left." His countenance broke again somewhat, and the despair revealed itself slightly.
Armor spoke up, quietly, seemingly crushed by the reality of the situation. "Yeah. I feel numb. I couldn't think how I could-" Armor looked down at the table in utter despair.
Blueblood stretched his hoof over in an attempt to comfort the other unicorn, in an act that surprised himself. It was what ponies did to comfort others, he recalled from distant impersonal observation and the odd soap he used to watch to bore himself to sleep. It strangely seemed genuine, a severe jolt to his cynical mind.
The Princesses wouldn’t be so cruel as to torment this poor idiot; it feels too genuine to be an act… Wait, what am I thinking? No, Keep the guard up.
"Don't think too hard. We'll find them." Blueblood attempted to grin mildly with feigned confidence. "If I were in your place I too would demand we do more to find them - and I want nothing more than to do that, but we simply cannot."
Armor looked up with an expression of inquisitiveness and betrayal; Blueblood was quick to correct his own choice of words whilst cursing internally.
"We have a responsibility to Equestria despite our personal misgivings, and we have to be clear-sighted about such matters." I can't believe I'm saying this. "Indeed, finding the Princesses is vital, but unless you have any better suggestions, the fact that there are absolutely no clues as to their disappearances is both deeply troubling and a serious block to any search efforts. Still, there are more serious connotations. With your sister here, we'd have a chance, but now? I'm starting to question whether we'd be able to last a week if we're going up against any powerful enemy unprepared."
Shining Armor raised a blue eyebrow.
"Armor, your sister has saved this country countless times. Without her, the Elements of Harmony are useless. Though I've disagreed with her repeatedly I've never doubted or unappreciated her ability.” To be frank, Celestia’s… treatment of her is in all likelihood more insulting than anything Twilight’s ever done or said to me… “Without the Elements united there may be no hope." He lay back in his seat. "Though I've questioned whether Equestria is under threat at all."
Armor raised another blue eyebrow at Blueblood’s remarks, curious and surprised at the sincerity.
Well, he isn’t attacking me at least; I suppose that would be a positive indicator…
"It's entirely possible that the Princesses are playing a..." Blueblood paused. "A prank upon us."
Armor stared at him as if he were mad. "The Princesses wouldn't do such a thing!" he cried. "Why would they risk the harmony and security of the whole of Equestria for such a mad jape? And at whom?!"
"They are doing it to make us panic!" Blueblood urgently insisted. "To make us terrified! Don't say they won't do it - Celestia and Cadance are known pranksters! This would be one to top them all!"
His voice lowered and he spoke in dark tones. "You know they hate me - all of them - and how better to get rid of me? How better than to find an excuse for the removal of myself and my line?" His eyes twitched disturbingly.
"Blueblood," his counterpart anxiously mollified in that irritating coltish voice of his, "you're being absolutely paranoid. The Princesses would never do such a thing, and to say they hate you is complete horseapples.” The sincerity and lucidity with which his counterpart spoke troubled yet somewhat warmed the Prince’s heart. “Cadance loves you, as does Princess Celestia; Luna's spoken of her respect for you on occasion and Twilight's got nothing bad to say about you. She probably considers you a friend, considering how you’ve had to often work with her when she’s in Canterlot."
Now that he mentions it, the fear does seem irrational, but one cannot let one’s guard down regardless.
The Prince batted an eyelid in a rictus of well-honed royal disinterest. Armor snapped.
“Tartarus, Blueblood! Cadance’s right! You need to stop wallowing in your own self-pity and your delusions of grandeur, or we’re doomed no matter what!”
The same old tune, all of them…
Blueblood indifferently shook this off. "It matters not. I have no intention of dying yet and, though it may surprise you, no intention of letting the ship sink, even with you aboard. If it spites somepony, the better."
And I’m sure you’ll find it a fun adventure too; besides, if it all turns out for the worse I’ll drag you down with me. It would be strangely amusing.
Shining Armor crooned sardonically in retort, sorrows temporarily forgotten as he re-joined the old feud, unable to resist the desire to jape at his foalhood rival. "Confident words whilst it's still afloat."
And, pray tell, what would you do, dear brother? Not too different, are we? Stubborn fools both doomed to keep this swaying boat together.
"I consider it to be listing somewhat, and in rough waters," Blueblood countered. “Though if you ever believe your life to be in danger, then I would recommend a stint at the bilge pumps.”
Armor gently guffawed at this, allowing himself a smirk at his brother-in-law. “You were rather reasonable in Council today,” he lightly probed. “Far more reasonable than I would have expected. Perhaps there’s something resembling a brain in that hollow Platinum skull?”
Blueblood recognised it as a minor jest; it was what plebs allegedly did to calm their nerves on occasion. “And what did you expect, Armor? The Nightmare come again?” he mocked. “I’m not named after an Actinide, you know.”
“What? Oh right. It’s nothing; it’s just that I expected you to declare an intent to wage war upon Griffonia, or something equally stupid.”
As much as I would like to, I’m not suicidal. Then again, going down in a hail of fire might have something going for it. Then again, a heroic death is overrated and I’ll not give anypony or anygriffon or anyone the satisfaction of killing ME! And if we are fighting, dear Captain, I’ll make sure you’ll not sit it out at all, unlike what has happened in the past.
“Awfully sorry I was unable to fulfil your expectations. You see, I possess a highly useful trait – perhaps genetic – which may be of great use to you yourself, Captain. I suppose it must be genetic; after all, the name of my house is Platinum… When controlled, this quality is a great boon to oneself. Alas, such a state is indeed a rarity amongst both the nobility and the lower folk.” Blueblood feigned despair, and slumped forwards in mock sorrow.
“And what, may I ask, is it?”
“Self-preservation,” articulated the Prince in a haughty air, faux-arrogantly waving a hoof around as if it helped emphasise the point.
“Cowardice?” Armor japed aggressively in reply.
Too far, Armor. At least he’s not crying or had utter loss of his senses yet? Blueblood scowled indignantly, but for a brief moment. “Feeling a bit better, Shining?” the Prince ventured in a somewhat amicable way.
Shining Armor nodded and offered a slight grin, and the two sat in reflective, almost companionable silence.
Perhaps Equestria will manage to stand for more than a week.
“You’re still a stuck-up aristocratic jerk though,” remarked Shining Armor.
“’Wouldn’t have it any other way, and you’re still a stubborn, over-enthusiastic ass,” answered Blueblood with a smirk. “You’re not the worst after all, though. It appears my sister isn’t entirely devoid of common sense in choosing a husband.”
Shining Armor smiled, though broke it as he continued. “About the Wedding…”
Blueblood waved it off. “Doesn’t really matter; I attended the real thing, did I not? Heck, I ought to be apologising about those rumours…”
What am I doing? Celestia… Feuds don’t end this easily. He could be quick to forgive though? That, or an idiot. I am absolutely befuddled, though…
“You encouraged them? It seemed rather petty, even for you. Though considering how I fought that day, even a display by yourself back then would have been much better.”
“Somewhat,” Blueblood reluctantly admitted. “I did somewhat contribute to the rumours, though I’d wager the Mess, despite the free food and drink, wasn’t the most impressed regardless. I’ve made no remarks on it publically though; can’t exactly recall what happened, besides.”
True, that.
“Then again,” the Prince continued, “it’s said the best-dressed soldiers lose the most wars, eh?”
A thought suddenly struck him again. “Armor, you have a rather… strong bond with Cadance, am I correct?” ‘Course I am; Cadance had been blabbering on about it for most of my wretched life. “… Outside of the one couples have? The thing that allowed you to purge Chrysalis and her ilk from the city?” In a massive fluke, I have to add.
“Mhm…” he cautiously affirmed in return.
“Could you… feel her across this bond?” Blueblood offered. “Wait, not in that-“
Your Royal Highness, about that ‘diplomacy’ thing you were harping on about… Perhaps one ought to work upon it, eh, Blueblood, you quarrelsome boulder? And opening your heart out to your oldest rival? Cadance might be right sometimes, but you do recall what happened the last time Equestrian royalty did that to their oldest rival, don't you?
The Captain of the Guard offered a chuckle at the Prince’s embarrassment before answering. “It’s not… severed, as such. If I were to concentrate really, really hard, I can feel her presence. I’ve no idea whether it’s just a false hope or anything. Wasn’t one to study such things, really. You?”
“Nothingness.”
“As to be expected, of course.”
That joke was old a minute ago. The Prince snarled internally. Not enough decent conversation, these days. I could discern it from the first few hours of my ‘reign’ alone.
“Armor,” Blueblood disapproved. “As for relating to our conversation, no, I can’t feel anything, not even a severed link. Apart from the japes you could make at my lack of empathy, it’s probably a good thing. A good sign that she’s not dead yet. Of course, I was never the best brother, so that would have an effect- wait, why am I telling you this?”
If this is one of those old foal-tales then it'll have a happy ending. But Blueblood, stop and reign yourself in before you do something even more stupid...
Shining Armor shrugged ambivalently. “Well, it’s hard to see how this can help us otherwise. As you said earlier, we’ve no clue whatsoever as to her or to the other Princesses’ circumstances.” He frowned.
A thought protruded Armor’s mind, and he attempted to change the subject on a rush of enthusiasm. "You sent for the other Elements of Harmony? I'm sure Spike would appreciate a few friendly faces around here, especially if Twiley's... gone...” He frowned again as he finished his sentence.
"Yes, I ordered Thunderclap to secure the Elements earlier."
"You did what?! You could just have sent a message, right, Blueblood?" Armor exclaimed in astonishment, blinking in disbelief at Blueblood’s actions.
Surprised at the energetic reaction, Blueblood attempted to provide flimsy justification for his actions. "I thought we were under impending danger at the time!” And I was drunk. “Besides, they wouldn't attend summons if I sent a letter to them - they hate me! Especially that golddigging mare! She put a face on at that ship-launching ceremony, you know that! You can’t say they don’t loathe me, can you?!"
Ah... I suppose a message from Shining Armor may have been more… persuasive than a number of Lunar Guard in the middle of the night… Then again, they may not grasp the urgency through such a message. It’ll be fine, Blueblood, nothing to worry about.
The Captain of the Guard placed a hoof against his forehead. After a while, he spoke up again, altering the tune of their conversation. “Have you spoken to Spike yet, and explained everything? I’m sure than considering how I feel he’d be in a much worse state, considering his age and past experiences.”
Blueblood shook his head. “No, I thought it best for you to speak to him; perhaps the Bearers could also talk to him once they’ve arrived? I can’t say that I’m any good with infants. Or dragons, for that matter.” His voice trailed off.
Not to mention that I can’t stand foals whatsoever. Then again, you’re not good with ponies in general, or any other sapient being either, Blueblood, you asocial receptacle.
The Prince huffed. “Hopefully the matter is quickly concluded. It is my hope that the Princesses return – and soon, preferably before Equestria collapses into a heap of firewood. As I said earlier search and rescue measures may have an unintended effect, though I’m sure you’ll get the Guard to start innocuous searches in the Everfree and other regions soon – call it ‘exploration’ or ‘surveying’ or some other excuse before the ‘cat is let out’, or whatever the idiom is. Before the public finds out and goes completely insane. Frankly, I was expecting you to do as such despite what I said to the Council.”
Of course, if the Guards can’t find any trace of them, it’ll be impossible for the Elements to do anything useful, if you’re going to be proposing that solution, Armor. Without your sister they truly are a headless bunch of insane mares.
He offered Shining Armor a small smile before continuing. “But you never know, perhaps the other Elements would be able to contribute-“
Sudden, loud knocks at the door. The two unicorns turned towards the great double doors and Blueblood called for the person to enter. An ominously drained Thunderclap walked in.
“Sirs,” he nodded at the two unicorns. “We’ve secured the five other Elements.”
He paused.
“Though not without incident.”
Wonderful.