• Published 17th Jun 2013
  • 3,861 Views, 86 Comments

Pinkie and Bluie - Talon and Thorn



After Prince Blueblood and Pinkie Pie met at the Gala, he'd expected it to be a one off thing, like so many times before. So why is he finding it so hard to tell her that?

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Chapter 1 - After the Gala

As the old song went there must be at least fifty ways to leave your lover. He was sure he'd used at least that number himself, in fact there were probably over one thousand of them. 'It's not you, it's me', sleeping with her sister, not returning her letters, declaring that you’re gay, faking your own death.

"Whatcha thinking about Bluie?" asked the puffy pink pony currently reclining across his lap. "I know, let me guess. Is it about whether the clouds look down at us and talk about what we remind them of?" she put on a deep voice, "'You see that pony down there, if you squint and turn your head it looks just like a cloud and that one looks like a cupcake' or is it whether cakes want to be eaten? ‘Cause it’s probably not that fun to be eaten but if they didn't want to be eaten why would they taste so good? or is it whether the word succotash or guacamole is funnier or maybe succomole or guacatash?"

There had to be at least one thousand ways to leave her.

"Yes, Pinkie that's exactly what I'm thinking about", said Prince Blueblood smiling down at her.

So why couldn't he bring himself to use any of them?


Blueblood thought back to when he had first met Pinkie, only a week ago now, it had been the worst night of his life, and possibly the best. He had literally walked into her at the Gala and despite there being many more suitable companions he could have spent the night with there had been something about her. They’d spent the evening talking and drinking, well she had done almost all of the talking but both of them had been drinking. Then his world had fallen apart when Trixie had arranged for that creature Zizanie to dose many of the guests with truth poison, leading to a near riot. The discordian had been captured and she’d told Luna everything and then Luna had... her reaction still hurt. What do you do when a goddess tells you that you’re leading your life wrong? That you are corrupt and sicken her? He’d spent all of his life continuing his family's quest to regain the position lost by their ancestor, but to now be told he had been doing it the wrong way, that Luna would never forgive him? His entire life had been yanked out from under his hooves.

He was just outside of the Selenic Cathedra trying to get away. He didn’t have an objective in mind just to get away from the shame and fear. The place was in chaos as the entire Night Court tried to flee after their humiliation, adding to them were many Gala guests still milling around as well as numerous onlookers. He was staggering through the crowd almost in a daze when he saw a flash of pink.

There she stood, part of a small group of guests from Ponyville hanging around the palace, she was, as always, nattering away while her companions had thousand yard stares, probably indicating she had been talking at them for a while. She somehow spotted him and began hopping towards him with a happy cry of “Bluie!”

He tried to pull himself together, to put on a brave face, ears up, he couldn’t show weakness. “Miss Pie, why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be on your way home?”

“No silly. The train doesn’t leave for a few hours yet and I was looking for you because my Pinkie Sense told me I should. It went leg twitch, leg twitch, blink, blink, sneeze which means that stallion you met at the party is having an personality crisis, it’s easy to mix up with twitch, blink, blink, twitch, sneeze which is I forgot to go grocery shopping but I know I did the shopping before I left so It’s almost certainly the first one.”

He blinked and decide that he was far too shell shocked and either too drunk or not drunk enough to try and understand that, he just wanted to get home and then... actually he didn’t know what he wanted to do, just not be here, or anywhere.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t deal with you right now, I have to go,” he briskly pushed past the pink pony, ears lowered.

She was not put off in the slightest and started to bounce along beside him, “Are you sure because you don’t look very happy and if it’s one thing Pinkie’s good at its making ponies happy, well it’s not the only thing I’m good at, I can cook, and dance, and sing, oh and I’m not a bad GM either.”

He wasn’t really listening, “Please just leave me alone.” His facade cracked for a moment, “I don’t think I deserve to be happy,” he said morosely.

She stopped dead and stared at him as if he’d grown a second head, “Don’t be silly. Everypony deserves to be happy.”

He hunched down and started to walk faster, almost a canter, “I don’t.”

She began to hop even faster, “Yes you do.”

“Don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t, don’t.”

“Do, Do, Do times infinity.”

“I just don’t,” he said with finality.

“Why not?” she said crystal blue eyes wide, staring into his soul, if he had one.

His pain and self-loathing spilled over, “Because I’m an evil, selfish, corrupt, greedy, bad, bad, pony!” he yelled.

“Who says so?”

“Luna does! You know, Alicorn of the Moon, ruler of Equestria, mother to us all, A GODDESS TOLD ME I WAS EVIL!” Tears started to roll down his face, as he let out his shame, “I’ve done things, I knew they weren’t totally good, or moral or legal but everypony was doing it. It was just how the Night Court worked. Luna never said anything about it so I just assumed she approved. I just wanted to be important, to make my family great again, that’s what my whole life was about. But now, she was so angry, her eyes, she was so ashamed of us all, ashamed of me. I’ll never amount to anything now, generations of work ruined.”

As his anger and shame broke Pinkie just stood there letting it all wash over her. She leaned forward slightly and held out a leg. “Hugs?” she said.

He shrugged off her grasp, “You think a hug will fix this?” he roared in her face.

Pinkie wasn’t intimidated at all. “Of course, silly. A hug makes anything better. Hugs are like the sugar in the cake of life.”

He collapsed forward, sobbing, burying his head in the warm safe tangle of her mane like a foal hiding from a storm.

She was right.

A hug makes anything better.

He wasn’t entirely sure how they made their way back to his town house; the journey passed as a blur of tears and shame. He remembered telling her about all that had happened and although he couldn’t remember her words, he knew that she forgave him. He remembered the two of them falling into bed together and he drifted off to sleep holding her, like a foal clinging to its mother.


He awoke slowly, the sun was just starting to rise indicating that he had been asleep for little more than an hour. Normally he’d only just be going to bed now, but the events of last night had left him physically and mentally exhausted. Despite the low throb of his traditional morning hangover, there was an underlying sense of peace around his mind, as if the turmoil of last night had drifted away for the moment, leaving only the lingering scent of pancakes. He stretched, feeling his muscles complain, he felt like something was missing. A questing hoof found a rapidly cooling furrow in the sheets next to him. She had gone, he felt strangely sad about that, it was a common enough occurrence, but normally he was the one leaving rather than the one being left. The empty dent in the sheets felt like his chest, cold and empty, with nothing to fill it.

He opened his eyes, Pinkie’s muzzle was a few inches from his face, she was looking down at him, blue eyes wide. “Morning Bluie!”

With a yell he rolled away from the vision, there was a thump as he fell off of the opposite side of the bed.

She continued without a pause “Breakfast is almost ready, I told you I was a good cook, maybe we can go to a dance some time and I can show you how good I am at that, or I could run a game for you.”

He poked his head over the bed. “What were you doing?”

“Watching you sleep. Mamma used to say you see a stallion’s true face when they’re sleeping and if you don’t like what you see you can cut off their-" Blueblood's eyes bulged "-access to you."

He was intrigued, despite the underlying creepiness of her actions. “As I still have my, access, I take it you liked what you saw?”

“I saw a very handsome stallion, who’s made some bad decisions, but who knows they were bad and wants to be better, who was drooling.”

He considered for a moment, could he really make things better, could he be a good pony, make Luna proud? Then his stomach rumbled. “Where is that smell coming from? The kitchens are at the other end of the house.”

“I know, they’re so far away and the corridors are so long and boring, all that white and blue, not a touch of pink, well except me. I know how great it is to wake up to the smell of cooking pancakes so I made them here.” She stepped aside, revealing that the rug had been pushed aside and a small metal rubbish bin full of burning wood - hopefully from the fireplace - had been placed in the empty space. Sitting over the fire, braced across a complicated stand made up of the Blueblood family silver forks, all twisted together into a complicated weave, was a simple frying pan. And in that pan, was heaven. Light and fluffy golden pancakes, wafting a gentle aroma up his nose that grabbed a firm grip on the cognitive portion of his brain and firmly flipped the 'off' switch.

He stared for a full minute, brain ticking over all the things that were wrong about this, then he decided, what the Tartarus, he was hungry.

Dexterously gripping a spatula in her mouth Pinkie flipped a pancake onto a plate, one of the priceless ones his great-grandmother had had imported from Neighpon before he was born, and presented it to him. “There’s no syrup,” she said apologetically.

He used his telekinesis, which caused a twinge in his head, to lift the offered treat and took a bite. And then another. And another. Until the plate was nearly clean and making him seriously consider the possibility of licking it like a commoner just to get the last few golden crumbs. After barely resisting the urge, he sat the plate down carefully to one side and looked up at his eccentric houseguest.

"I'm on a diet. I'm surprised you found any of the ingredients for these.”

“I didn't. There, wasn’t even a mouthful of anything good in the house, not even a mouse’s mouthful. I looked everywhere, even the bathroom in case you like to snack while you shower, like me. Luckily I carry everything I need to make pancakes with me at all times, in case of pancake emergencies.” She stuck a leg into her mane up to the elbow and rummaged around before withdrawing a block of butter. ”But I forgot the syrup.”

Blueblood stared and swallowed hard as she started to rummaging in her tail as well. “That’s all right. I prefer them like this, or with some blueberries.”

“Blueberries, because you’re Blueblood,” she announced, as if she had just solved some great mystery. “As I’m Pinkie, I should like pancakes and pinkberries.” She bit into a pancake, “Are they a thing or did I make them up?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“I’ll ask Carrot Top when I get home, she knows all about plants and stuff. That reminds me, I’ll have to go soon. I promised the Cakes I’d help them open the bakery so I have to catch the first train.”

“Of course,” he said, “You can use my bathroom to freshen up first, you apparently already know where it is.” He looked down at her somewhat bedraggled dress. “I’ll look for some saddlebags for you to take that home in.”

“Thanks,” she replied with her trademark grin and bounced into the on-suite, as he looked for the saddlebags he heard the sound of the shower and felt his headache start to grow, he’d need to do something about it.

While Pinkie washed Blueblood moved to another room and retrieved a bottle of hangover cure, it was a family servants recipe. From past experience he knew that it would either cure the condition in a few minutes or would purge his body of alcohol from any possible exit, in either case his hangover would be gone in an hour and either he would feel better or more wretched, it was a 50/50 chance.

He rested his head against the cool bottle of the concoction, for the first time in many hours he had a few minutes to think to himself. Last night had been a game changer in almost every way. He had expected to come out of the night with a raft of blackmail material but now, he had been one of the few Night Court members not to have split their secrets, but Luna’s reaction, he shuddered remembering. It was one thing to understand what you were doing was wrong, although if you were doing it then it wasn’t really wrong just necessary, and another to be told it was wrong by one of the most powerful creatures in creation. Even if he did change his ways, would he know how to and would everyone else? And then there was Pinkie, he’d told her everything, everything, she could destroy him, still he knew some ponies that could ensure her silence, suddenly at the thought his stomach turned and he almost spread the pancakes she’d made over the floor. No, he would not think that way, things like that had led to this situation, and he couldn’t do that to her, she’d helped him, brought him hope when he had none.

He slammed a hoof onto the table, this was Trixie’s fault, she’s tricked him, she’d planned this.

Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door, he opened it telekinetically, without standing. He half expected Trixie herself to be standing there but instead it was somepony almost as hateful to him. Dirt Digger, the pale green unicorn stallion had an off black mane which he insisted on slicking back with far too much grease. He one of the bottom feeders that hung around the court. He thought of himself as a skilled blackmailer, but so far he’d just been lucky that he hadn’t been crushed by one of the bigger players.

“What do you want Dirt?” growled Blueblood his head ache increasing.

Digger winced at the use of his unloved first name and put on what he thought was a winning grin, it showed far too many teeth, “Blueblood my old friend. I’ve just heard what happened at the Gala.”

“Yes, I didn’t think I saw you there,” noted Blueblood, he knew there was no way that a low life like Dirt would be able to obtain a ticket.

“I thought about going, but I decided I’d rather have a private party with Buttercup Fields,” he purred with a sideways leer.

Blueblood’s stomach churned, Buttercup was the daughter of Baron Rolling Fields she was a nice mare, very attentive to her aging father and quite popular around court, she undertook a lot of charity work. As a favour to her father he’d acted as her escort to a ball once, she’d been quite delightful company if a little dull. He couldn’t imagine what muck Dirt had managed to dig up for her to have anything to do with him. “Why are you here Dirt?”

Uninvited the green unicorn wandered into the kitchen and sat down in a chair, “I hear that all of a sudden everypony and his dog decided to spill all their dirty little secrets. Everypony but you, lucky that.”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing, just that that puts you in a rather good position and that you might be in need of a skilled ‘aide’” he preened for a moment, “To help you with your recent windfall.”

For a moment Blueblood considered the situation, it might be possible to turn this event to his advantage, then he looked at Digger. The stallion was so eager to ruin other pony’s lives he was practically vibrating on the spot. Did Blueblood want to be like him? Maybe twenty four hours ago, he would have accepted, but now he thought of another pony just as lively as Dirt only she used the energy to make ponies happy not destroy them.

Blueblood made up his mind and his lip curled. “Get out,” he ordered in a low voice.

“Now, now Bluie, be reasonable..”

“Get Out!” he repeated pushing the table aside,”I never want to see you here again and I never want to even hear of you even being in the same room as Buttercup.”

“Now you can’t stop me being with my marefriend,” stuttered Dirt backing away from the enraged stallion.

“Ha! Marefriend, don’t make me laugh! We both know no mare would be with you without being paid or forced.”

“You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Yes I can Dirt! I think you’ve forgotten who you are, you are nothing, I could destroy you without any consequences. Given what she said Luna would probably thank me for it. Now. Get. Out!”

With that Diggers nerve broke and he fled from the room slamming the door behind him.

Blueblood was still fuming when a few seconds later a cleaner Pinkie hopped into the room wearing his saddlebags, the sight calmed him and brought a warm feeling to his belly.

“I’ve got to go now,” she said, “The train’s leaving soon and if I miss it I’ll have to run all the way home and that’s a long way, maybe they’d lend me one of those carts with the push up and down things, those look like fun.”

“It’s been nice meeting you Ms Pie,” said Blueblood bowing, he offered her his hoof. She bounded up to him and to his surprise planted her lips straight on his, she tasted like pure sugar and sent a bolt of electricity to his already stunned brain. He tried to pull back but for some reason their lips refused to disconnect. She swung around, heading backwards towards the door and helplessly he followed. They were at the door before they finally separated leaving Blueblood feeling lightheaded.

“Buh-bye!” she called, waving in. “I have to get back to Ponyville to help with opening the bakery and ordering new stuff for the Cakes! Ooh, but I’ll come by this weekend! And I’ll bring syrup!”

Blueblood blinked, then smiled wickedly at Digger, who was still skulking by the door before looking past him and at Pinkie Pie. “And blueberries!” he called.

“Okie-doky-loki!” Pinkie called back.

Digger snarled slightly and then scurried off.

Suddenly all that had happened hit Blueblood and he slumped to the ground, his head in a whirl. He and the other members of the court would have to do something about Digger and his ilk. They were too stupid to realise how thin the ice they were skating on was and would bring down their monarch’s wrath on their own if they weren't careful. Still he could worry about that later, there was something else that had been said, it was on the tip of his tongue, something Pinkie had said.

Ooh, but I’ll come by this weekend!

He gasped his hangover cure and chugged it back, gagging at the taste. Where had she gotten the idea that this was more than a one-off thing? Was it something he’d said? Still it would be nice to see her again. Despite the physical warmth of the rising sun, the house already seemed to be somewhat darker and colder without her. How had she put it? 'The corridors are so long and boring, all that white and blue, without a touch of pink.' He clamped down on that thought relentlessly and tried to put it to one side. She was a distraction he did not need, not now. He was going to have to dump her somehow.

Suddenly there was a rumbling in his guts, the hangover cure was starting its work and it looked like he’d drawn the short straw. He staggered towards the bathroom, but didn’t quite make it in time.


There had to be at least one thousand ways to leave her.

So why couldn't he bring himself to use any of them?

Because she was there when he needed her the most.

Author's Note:

This is my first attempt at Romance, and its hard to do.

Many thanks to RainbowDoubleDash for allowing me to use sections from his At-the-Grand-Galloping-Gala story and for setting up the Blueblood/Pinkie Pie romance in the first place.

Even more thanks for my pre-readers Blackbelt and GrassandClouds2 all the good idea's are theirs the rest is mine.

19/12/2013 - Now updated to remove the infamous Trixie poisoning Blueblood scene to fit the current version of the Gala story.