At the Inn of the Prancing Pony

by McPoodle

Chapter 8: The High Court's Sentence

At the Inn of the Prancing Pony

Chapter 8: The High Court’s Sentence

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Celestia awoke in chains.

“Luna, I’m not in the mood for playing Bandit today,” she mumbled as she slowly came to her senses. Luckily for her, her early-morning mumbles are always completely unintelligible.

Celestia remembered she was supposed to be Hope Springs...and some but not all of the details of the prior night’s scuffle with Prince Blueblood’s royal guards. She looked down, to see that she was wearing a set of off-white pajamas that had had black stripes crudely painted across it, making her look like the geometric opposite of a zebra. She lifted her head, to see Midnight similarly attired...and chained.

“Midnight, why are we—?”

Midnight cut her off with a raised (and shackled) hoof. “My uncle’s idea of a joke. His sense of humor is completely broken.”

“Ah,” said Hope. “Will I be required to laugh?”

“Oh, he’s going to have to try a lot harder before he gets a victory that significant out of us.”

Hope nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Let me do the talking.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

# # #

Several minutes passed.

“It appears that his timing is also broken,” Midnight said sullenly.

“Yes, Ma—”

“All rise for His Highness, Prince Blueblood!”

Midnight remained sitting, examining her hoof as though looking for any chips in its surface.

The tall white stallion from last night strode into the tent. “Of course, you can’t rise,” he remarked in an airy tone, “because I made your chains too short for...you didn’t even try to get up, did you?”

The two mares’ responses could be taken as characteristic for their entire approaches to life: Midnight looked at him like her gaze could melt lead, while Celestia looked at him like the joke had completely gone over her tiny little mind.

“So,” the Prince asked eagerly, “shall we begin the interrogation now, or shall we skip straight to the torture?!”

One of the guards stepped discretely up to the Prince, and whispered into his ear.

“Wait!” he exclaimed in response. “Strike that, reverse it. Yes, much better.”

Midnight carefully and slowly rolled onto her side, put her forelegs up and stretched the chains taut so that she looked entirely inappropriate, before speaking.

“Torture?” she purred. “Oh like living in your home as you drool over me? Like pretending your wife does you any good? You’re a sad stallion, Blueblood, trying to intimidate a filly.” She rolled back to her stomach as she said this, flipping her mane back to lay flat.

Hope’s jaw dropped, until Midnight flipped her mood as easily as an alligator that has latched onto its prey.

“You don’t scare me any more than you did as a child, you myceliac traitor to decency itself!”

“I...what? What?!” exclaimed a flabbergasted prince. “I’ll have you know I am the dictionary definition of decency! And I paid a pretty bit to get my picture put next to that definition, I’ll have you know! Don’t make me break open my complimentary copy to look up that vocabulary word of yours. Also, my Lumpy Bumkins is strictly off-limits.”

Celestia looked quickly between the two ponies on each side of her as Midnight built up to yet another explosive outburst. Despite the raging emotions, there was a certain playfulness in their expressions, like a pair of brothers who regularly fought their way into the hospital, but always left it laughing into each other’s arms.

“Off li...OFF LIMITS?!” Midnight predictably shrieked, straining at her chains as she tried to lunge for his throat. “I can’t insult your very nearly literal bovine of a wife, but you were just speaking of torturing us?!”

Blueblood shook his head in pity. “Really, I think whichever etiquette teacher your father paid for did a most inadequate job. Allow me to demonstrate: bring in the torture devices!”

A litany of servants arrived, carrying between them...a buffet table.

Celestia could see Midnight’s eyes twitching from anger or possibly an aneurysm. “A joke. You lock us in shackles and...I’ll have you know that I’ve been severely traumatized by all this, Uncle. You’ve left me broken-hearted and bereft of trust!”

“Really?” Prince Blueblood asked, his eyes wide, his tone dead serious. “You really mean to say that this beats out what the dragons did to me when I was five?” He asked this so fast that there was no room for response. And then he was back to his over-the-top self. “Now this, on the other hoof, this is the most exquisite of tortures! I am going to eat a three course breakfast, right in front of you. And only let you eat the leftovers!”

There was a moment of silence as both mares contemplated how best to respond to this “dire threat”.

“Oh how will I cope?” Midnight asked finally, her hoof raised dramatically just under her horn. A second later, that same horn was used to snatch a scone from the buffet table and quickly stuff it into her mouth. “W’fout the emfsquisit first taste?” She grinned as she swallowed.

“How dare you!” Blueblood cried, proving yet again that all Bluebloods sound really pathetic when they yell. “Guard!”

As his direction, a guard strode up behind the two mares. Blueblood used his magic to pick up another scone, which he shoved into Hope’s confused mouth. The guard then struck her in the back of the head to make her spit it out.

“Torture!” the Prince crowed.

Midnight sighed at her extremely minor defeat under the circumstances. “Fine, fine,” she said. “Don’t abuse the staff, Uncle. I was just feeling peckish. So what are you after? I haven’t found anything that any ordinary pony...or even earth pony, couldn’t have found out.”

Celestia smiled to herself at the circumlocution. It was worthy of some of her own deceptions in years past.

“Hold on, hold on! I’m still eating!” the Prince sulked. “Torture now, interrogation later!”

# # #

Eleven minutes passed, during which Celestia learned ways to use your servants to help you eat that she honestly never wanted to learn in her entire life. She was also hit twice more for Midnight’s “peckish” thefts of an egg and a cream tart.

The servants were then dismissed. All of the crusts and an overly hard soft-boiled egg were put in a silver bucket, which was presented to Hope by Blueblood.

“Of course,” Blueblood explained to Midnight in a superior tone, “now that I have ‘bucketed’ the food, there’s no way that you as a noble can…” (cue levitated food) “...oh, that’s just cheating!”

“It’s only cheating if you are punished for it, Uncle. I believe you taught me that,” Midnight chuckled while floating up a fluffy crust for Hope to have while she ate her own egg.

“You were only supposed to use that tactic against our cousins,” Blueblood mumbled under his breath. “Take it away!” he ordered. “Everything but the bucket. And bring my scribe!”

The pink pegasus Celestia had seen watching them from the cloud yesterday walked in. She looked a bit on the small side, and she had a dark blue blanket draped across her wings. Her mane and tail were toned light blue and pale red in alternating stripes. Without a word, she sat down, pulled out a small bag from under her left wing, and from those produced a pad of paper, a feather quill, and jar of ink. She appeared quite dexterous at manipulating objects with her feathers.

Blueblood sighed. “Any statements for the record before we begin?”

Celestia glanced over at the pad of paper that the pegasus was poised to begin writing on. Across the top, she noticed, were the words “DISREGARD THIS PAGE”.

“Of course, Uncle!” Midnight exclaimed in a far-too-cheery voice. “I’d love to give you everything you ask for! Such as a stick to ram up your...”

“...P Y G I A L,” Hope helpfully spelled out a few seconds later. “Gland.”

“Yes, I know. But he doesn’t even have one of those!” the pegasus complained.

“I believe that was the point,” Hope noted.

“I was going to use the vernacular, but I thought it would be more fun for him to have to ask somepony about his rectal anatomy,” Midnight said with a chuckle, offering Hope up another crust.

“Actually,” the pink pegasus corrected, “the gland is a little higher than that, in the vicinity of the—”

“Are we are quite finished?” Blueblood interrupted primly. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Firebelle…”

The pegasus dutifully flipped the page on her notepad.

“Our relationship with the group of adventurers represented by the Inn of the Prancing Pony in Hoofington has suffered a calamitous setback of late,” the Prince explained, “caused by the actions of a certain fort commander.” He gave a disapproving glare at Midnight Sparkle as he said this, which was answered with a raspberry. He continued on as if nothing had happened. “As a result, the Inn has refused to accept any unicorns who hold allegiance to the Crown.”

“And that’s my problem, how?” Midnight asked. “I have no interest in the Inn. I went to meet Bee for scientific pursuits and she didn’t even answer a single one of my many questions! Such as—”

“You know,” Blueblood said loudly, interrupting her, “I’ve heard some very good things about your research. Why, I even heard from a little narwhal that you might be on the verge of a breakthrough, and just need the right nudge.” He frowned, and he stuck his face in Midnight’s, daring her to respond. “But I don’t like your face,” he snarled, “so therefore I’m banishing you, and your little mud pal, from my sight!” With a satisfied smirk, he made his way to the entrance of the tent. “I happen to be very far sighted,” he said over his shoulder at them, “so I’m having you shipped to the frigid north—tomorrow, when the transport arrives.” He smiled in triumph as Midnight was struck dumb. “Until then I will be in my tent, indulging in an all-day salt sampling session. Firebelle?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I’m entrusting you with the keys. And I’m confident that my suddenly placed trust in you will not be betrayed!”

“No...not the north!” Midnight exclaimed. She tried to lunch forward to embrace Prince Blueblood’s fetlocks, but ended up spread-eagled on the ground before him. “Uncle,” she begged, “I would do anything to not go to the north! I must continue my science!” But even under these desperate circumstances, she was able to regain her dignity. “I mean...” she began her plea bargaining, “unless I was to be bribed. If you gave me say...a thousand bits? Not to keep, just to hold onto for comfort until you make me leave for that dreaded place? I’d be more willing to go through with all this.”

Hope looked on incredulously. Is there any limit to the venality of the nobility? she asked herself.

“Hm…” Blueblood pondered the criminal act he was being baldly petitioned to commit. “Treasurer!” he bellowed.

A tall leggy blond unicorn showed up, a simply enormous bag of bits around her neck.

“Give me a thousand bits.”

The treasurer reached into the large bag to remove a smaller bag with a large “B 1,000” written across it.

Prince Blueblood calmly took the bag...and gave it to Firebelle.

“For me?!” the pegasus asked with sparkling eyes.

Midnight’s jaw dropped. “M...my money!” she whined.

Blueblood turned to her in triumph. “More torture!” he cried out gleefully. Then he and the treasurer left, arm in arm.

“Wait!” Midnight shouted after them. “I know another way you could torture me! It involves a fully-equipped laboratory and a staff of trained...”

Nopony rose to the bait.

“And what are you laughing at?” Midnight demanded of Hope.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.”

Midnight let out a long sigh. “Fine, okay,” she said, before coming up with her next scheme. “So this should be fairly straightforward,” she explained. “Firebelle, do you hate Blueblood as much as most of his employees do?” As she said this, she sat back and tried to look like she was relaxing.

The pegasus looked up from the inexplicable suitcase that she had just finished packing. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me attaining sweet, sweet freedom!” she cried.

“Excellent,” Midnight purred. “Mind taking us with you?” She punctuated this request by raising one shackled hoof into the air. “I can help you get wherever you need to go.”

Firebelle narrowed her eyes, and cautiously walked up to the pair. “Can that go ‘pew pew’?” she asked, pointing at Midnight’s horn.

“It certain—”

“And can those go ‘bam pow!’? she asked, pointing at Hope’s rear legs.

“Um...yes?” Hope replied.

“Great!” she exclaimed, using her key to free them. “You two can be my minions! We’re going to have so much fun together!”

The unicorn drooped, but kept her scowl from showing through. “Minion...Okay, fine, yeah.” She kicked the open shackles free from her hooves and looked around. “You know a way out?”

“Sure! You jump straight up, then you land on a cloud and...oh, wait…”

“Hey!” came the voice of Muddy Pie from outside. “The boss is giving out free margarita slurries to everypony!” This was followed by a miniature stampede. A few seconds later, the camp suddenly sounded a whole lot emptier.

Firebelle carefully stuck her head out the tent flap and looked around. “Huh,” she said finally. “It’s almost like he’s...nah, that’s impossible. Let’s do this!”

Author's Note:

The blame for the title of this chapter can be laid entirely at the feet of McPoodle. I estimate that less than five out of every hundred readers "got" the title immediately, and even as they are reading this note after finishing the chapter, at least twenty out of those hundred readers still didn't get it or, like me, got it but didn't think it was funny.

However, it is his account that I am using for this, so I suppose I should give him some slack. So, to stop him from sniggering like a cartoon hyena, I'll just post...this, and say no more:

Comments

[Doppler Effect]

So, clearly this Blueblood is also a master of the art of obfuscating stupidity, and now when Midnight arrives at the Inn of the Prancing Pony, she won't be a unicorn with any allegiance to the crown. It's really interesting seeing him in action from the perspective of a Celestia who didn't know what he was doing (though I think it was obvious enough that she's probably worked it out by now).

[Fizzy Orange]

Well that was a rather roundabout way to get Midnight to spy on the Adventurers... I wonder if Midnight and Firebelle will graduate to PC?

[djthomp]

That was the most hilarious torture scene I've possibly ever read.