//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Dinner Party // Story: Actions and Reactions: Saving Twilight Sparkle // by Lord of Flies //------------------------------// Canterlot April 8, 4E 2010 Prime Minister’s Mansion, 17:45 Prime Minister Fancy Pants adjusted his cufflinks for the umpteenth time of the evening. He glanced at the clock. 5:45, it read. He sighed. He was hosting a dinner party for all of the high ranking nobles in Canterlot. “Something wrong, dear?” Fleur Dis Lee, his wife, noticed his sign of disappointment and leaned over to inquire what was wrong. “Nothing,” Fancy Pants replied, a slight frown forming on his features, “except that Prince-General Blueblood isn’t here yet.” “So?” “We were supposed to start fifteen minutes ago.” “Have some sympathy, dear.” Fleur told him, “His wife is expecting you know.” Fancy Pants grumbled in response. The double doors across the room from Fancy Pants and Fleur opened, admitting Blueblood, who wore a very serious expression on his face. The chatter that had been going on in the room abruptly ceased as all the attendees looked at the new arrival. The assembled ponies glanced at each other nervously as they waited for Blueblood to do something, anything. Eventually, a large smile spread across the amber haired unicorn’s face. “Easy, easy,” he said, “I’m not here to have you arrested.” The rest of the ponies sighed in relief, only to freeze up again, just for a moment, when Blueblood spoke again, his tone serious, “Not yet, anyway.” “Anyway,” he said, the smile reappearing on his face, “let’s eat, hmm?” No one argued with him on that front. Not that any would dare to argue with him. Another pony entered the room next to Blueblood. This pony, a unicorn like Blueblood, was a mare. The assembled ponies stood, almost jumped, from their chairs as the mare entered the room. “Princess Enigma Blueblood,” Fancy Pants whispered, as if he was afraid that speaking the mare’s name too loudly would incur her anger. Enigma smiled, very faintly, perhaps picking up the Prime Minister’s whisper, or perhaps just in reaction to the ponies standing up in response to her presence. Her emerald eyes slowly moved as the mare swept her gaze across the room. Silky turquoise hair spilled down past her shoulders, reaching just below her knees. The only thing normal about her hair, or so Fancy Pants thought, was her sidelocks, which were only shoulder length. Russet fur, shimmering very slightly in the light, coated the mare head to toe. The most striking feature about the mare, and which invariably drew attention, was her belly. Enigma was pregnant, and the mare was very self-conscious about it. “Come on, dear,” Blueblood prompted, trying to put on a comforting smile for the other ponies in the room, “let’s sit down, so you can get off your feet, and we can start eating. You’re also kind of giving everyone else a heart attack.” A mischievous smile flickered across her face, but Enigma nodded. “Of course,” she replied, voice suave and soothing. The two took their seats, Enigma sitting next to Fleur and Blueblood sitting next to Fancy Pants. As the food was served, and the attendees began to eat, Fancy Pants noticed that Enigma gave off an aura of unnaturalness. It wasn’t the same as the aura Fleur gave off, as Fleur was a Blank, one of those born with a gene that made them both immune to psykers, like the Princesses, and "soulless". As if being immune to psychic attacks made one “soulless.” Enigma’s aura was different, almost as if she didn’t belong among ponies. What could she be then, if not a pony? A changeling wearing an elaborate disguise, perhaps? Fancy Pants frowned internally, keeping his face calm as stone and engaging in the chitchat that naturally occurred at one of these dinner parties. If Enigma was a changeling, then she was really good at hiding her mind control of Blueblood. Fancy Pants glanced at Blueblood, then to Enigma. He sighed, imperceptibly, in relief. The two, fortunately, genuinely loved each other. “So,” Fancy Pants said, “Marius, how are the preparations for the Coronation Banquet coming along?” Blueblood smiled and replied, “Good. Everything should be ready by the fifteenth.” Fancy Pants smiled as well. “Great. I can’t wait for the banquet.” A lot of the nobles seated around the table agreed with his statement. Fancy Pants glanced at the clock and said, “Well, now that dinner is over, we can socialize in here. “Or,” he continued, “we can split off into mares and stallions, so that we discuss things that the other gender wouldn’t really care for.” The nobles agreed and the nobles split into groups. ************ Once Enigma and the rest of the female nobles found their way into one of the lounges in the Prime Minister’s Mansion, Enigma quickly found herself the center of attention. She blushed slightly as the rest of the mares began asking questions in rapid succession. “Girls, girls,” she said, “easy. Questions one at a time. You’ll make the poor filly clam up.” The other mares blushed slightly as they nodded in agreement, with a couple of them chuckling nervously. Fleur, being a successful supermodel despite her status as a Blank, was always curious about how other mares maintained their looks. “Princess, your hair is so long! How do you manage it?” “Oh, you know,” Enigma replied, running a hand through her hair, “lots of shampoo, conditioner, and an army of maids.” “Really?” Enigma nodded, “Yes, really.” “Princess,” another noble said, “when are you due? If you don’t mind me asking…” “Sometime in July, I think.” As the nobles, presumably having their curiosity quenched, began chatting to themselves, Enigma briefly wondered what her husband was up to. ************ “So, Prince-General,” Hoity Toity, one of Canterlot’s most important fashion personalities, began, “how confident are you that the Coronation Banquet will go as planned?” “Very confident,” Blueblood replied. “All four Princesses will be there, too. It’s going to be wonderful.” Hoity Toity smiled and nodded, “I’m going to be there, as well.” “I’ll be there, too,” Fancy Pants added, “obviously.” “Obviously,” Blueblood agreed.” “Prince-General?” One of the other nobles, Something-Gavel or some such like that, had addressed him. Blueblood answered, “Yes?” “Could I discuss something with you?” “Of course you can.” “I mean, in private, sir.” Fancy Pants, Hoity Toity, and Blueblood exchanged glances. Fancy Pants and Hoity Toity glanced at each other and nodded, having come to an agreement through only glances. “Go ahead,” Fancy Pants said, “we won’t be going anywhere.” “We’ll even save you a cake slice if you two take a while discussing certain… things,” Hoity Toity added. The room fell silent. Hoity Toity, however, had switched gears and was talking about fashion. Fancy Pants said, a very slight smile spreading across his face, “Wait for it.” Hoity Toity stopped talking, processed what he had said previous to his talking about fashion, and said, “Waitwaitwaitwait, that came out wrong, I swear!” The rest of the stallions in the room laughed, with the exception of Hoity Toity, who sighed and held his head in his hands. Blueblood glanced at Gavel, who returned the glance, and jerked his head toward the door. Gavel nodded, and the two rose from their seats and headed out into the hallway. The two headed into another room, an unoccupied dining room. *** “So,” Blueblood began, “what is so important that you needed to speak to me in private about it?” “Well, sir,” Gavel began, “it’s about the Coronation Banquet.” “Okay. Go ahead.” “Prince-General Blueblood, would you join the group of conspirators that seek to overthrow the Immortal Princesses? And would you be willing to be the one to assassinate Princess Twilight Sparkle?” Blueblood blinked. After a few moments, he let out an airy chuckle. “You can’t possibly be serious. You know that would never work.” “Sir, I’m completely serious.” A flurry of quick, subtle emotions flashed across the white unicorn’s face as he processed what he’d been asked to do and the utter deadpan of Gavel as he asked the Prince-General to do. After a few brief, silent, tension-filled moments, Blueblood’s face went calm. He looked down at the shorter unicorn. “You do realize,” Blueblood said, very calmly, “that what you’re suggesting is treason, correct?” Gavel unconsciously shrank a little under Blueblood’s icy gaze. The fact that the taller unicorn had eyes that seemed to pierce through whoever locked eyes with him didn’t help either. “Y-yessir,” Gavel stammered, “I-I know. W-we all know.” Blueblood said nothing, but lunged and grabbed the shorter unicorn by the collar, snarling. Locking eyes with the now sweating Gavel, he spoke, “I do not know what kind of… madness… has gotten over you or these conspirators, but I will not have any part of this. Not now, not ever. Never approach me about anything of this type of request. EVER. AGAIN. Do you understand?” Gavel nodded, nervously. “I-I understand.” Blueblood released the other stallion and continued glaring at him. “Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the door, “let’s return to the others.” Gavel nodded. The sound of footsteps alerted the two stallions to a butler walking past. “Excuse me, good sir,” Blueblood spoke, stepping up to the door, “what is the matter?” The butler turned, bowed, and spoke, “There is someone at the door, Prince-General.” “Oh. Continue, then.” Walking to the door, the butler opened it. All three stallions’ eyes opened wide. Standing in the doorway, looking a bit bored, was a stallion with white hair that had a single long, large lock of pale blue in it and a white tail. Most of the stallion was covered in a dark blue trench coat that reached down to just above his ankles, leaving only the bottom of his black pants and his grey shoes visible. He lifted his gaze from the ground and looked at the three stallions with grey-purple eyes. With a very slight smirk he inquired, “Is something the matter?” His voice was calm and bored sounding, though Blueblood knew better. He could hear the sinister tone in the other stallion’s voice. “Damocles,” he started, “what are you doing here?” “I heard Fancy Pants was having a dinner party. I’d gotten an invitation but I was tied up with work and couldn’t get away until fifteen minutes ago.” “And, you showed up because?” “I have nothing else to do for the rest of the night,” Damocles replied, shrugging, “so I figured that making an, albeit late, appearance to one of Fancy Pants's dinner parties would be acceptable.” Blueblood shrugged, and said, “Fine, fine. Get in here. I swear, you have the oddest timing of anyone that I've known. I suppose I could convince Fancy Pants to get you something to eat, though.” “Marius, you don't need to-” “Enough,” Blueblood said, raising his hand to cut off his brother. "You don't need to explain yourself to me." Damocles sighed, nodding. He walked into the mansion and handed his coat off to the butler, who stared at him with eyes still wide. He then glanced at the stallion behind his brother, and then at his brother, raising an eyebrow. Blueblood shrugged, turned around, and headed deeper into the mansion, humming thoughtfully to himself. Damocles fell into step behind him, hands behind his back, smirking wide. Gavel, confused and terrified, followed the two Blueblood stallions.