• Published 21st Jul 2014
  • 5,232 Views, 807 Comments

A Repentant Draconequus on the Equestrian Throne - DungeonMiner

Pendragon Alan Goldenhoof, after saving Equestria twice over, must now sit idly by as his world is destroyed piece by agonizing piece.

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2-Finding Your Way

Chapter 2

The five stallions and one dragon all lined up in front of the stump at Sweet Apple Acres.

The afternoon sun bore down on them as they fitted themselves for their yokes, all the while, puffing their chests out as their respective ladies cheered them on from the sidelines.

The mares stood next to several yet-to-be-opened barrels of cider as well as a rather generous spread of various apple-related treats. A large parasol, donated to the event courtesy of Rarity (who still wore a large hat anyway), had been set up for the mares and they gladly sat in its shade.

“Alright,” Alan said, as he weaved the rope through the yoke, “Thunderlane, Soarin, you’re going to give us some upward force. Spike, you’re with me and Silver to pull out. Big Mac, you’re the anchor. Any objections?”

They had none.

“Sounds good. Let’s go, stallions.”

They quickly lined up. Big Mac stood in the lead, followed by Spike, and then Alan and Silver standing side by side. Thunderlane and Soarin hovered in the sky above, double checking their harnesses as they waited for the signal.

“Ready…” Alan began, before waiting a beat. “Pull!”

The ropes snapped taut as the stallions pulled, hemp dust rising off of them as the puller’s hooves dug into the ground beneath them.

Soarin and Thunderlane were flapping their wings crazily, trying to get some upward force on the stump.

Big Mac took a slow step forward, and using everything he learned from the trees, became one with the earth, and perfectly immovable.

Spike’s claws dug deep into the earth below him, cutting long trenches into the soil as he struggled to get a foothold.

The stallions strained and grunted. Muscles rippled, veins bulged, they tugged and pawed at the ground while the stump popped as its roots were ripped to pieces.

And the mares just watched.

Women (as far as men know) don’t often indulge in ogling at eye candy. However, it has been confirmed that they do enjoy it occasionally, and the rippling wall of bulging muscle in front of them was just a little too sweet to pass up.

Rarity smiled around the straw she drank from as her eyes wandered over Spike’s large arms and shoulders. She drank her apple juice rather happily as Spike’s massive wings beat slowly as he tried to get some forward momentum.

Applejack was sneaking her looks at Silver, hiding them by cheering them on as she watched his sides and legs glisten with sweat.

Pinkie cheered on Soarin as he flapped his wings, and she took a moment to admire the wingspan, and the force coming off those wings. A force that she could feel from the ground.

Rainbow Dash likewise took a moment to admire Thunderlane’s wingspan.

Fluttershy, meanwhile stared in awe as Big Mac stood perfectly still. His yoke pulling back into his neck as the ropes strained. But he did not move an inch. The ground below him didn’t even give.

Twilight looked on lovingly, knowing from experience the strength of those arms.

As slack began to build between Spike and Big Mac, the farmer took a step forward before quickly becoming one with the earth again.

The stump groaned and popped as more roots snapped under the force.

Alan spoke through gritt teeth. “Silver, on three, pull with me. One. Two. Three!”

The two stallions pulled together, and the stump came loose, followed by more popping as the roots finally snapped.

A cheer went up from the crowd of mares, and the stallions grinned at their success, before finding a nice comfortable spot on the ground to rest on.

As the spectators came up to their respective pullers, Twilight hovered Orion up to her husband. “Look at how strong Daddy is! Yeah, see how strong he is.”

The blue bundle babbled happily, reaching out for his father with his little golden hooves.

Alan smiled as he slowly picked himself up from the ground to nuzzle his son, before turning to kiss his wife.

“Well, fellas,” Applejack said, before bringing a hoof down on a pry bar and opening a barrel. “You earned it!”

With the smell of fresh cider now floating in the air, the exhausted stallions slowly picked themselves up and migrated to the snack table.

And Applejack was already keeping Rainbow Dash at bay with a stick. “Let the stallions go first, Rainbow! They did the work!”

“They’ll get it!” Dash replied. “There’s enough to go around!”

“Which is why you can wait!” she said, before biting down on her tail and dragging her away.

“No! Cider! Wait for meeeeeeee!”

As the ponies drank deep and regained their breath, conversation began to spark through the little party. “Say, Al, where’ve you been the past couple of weeks?” Soarin asked. “I hardly see you.”

“That’s because whenever I go out, you’re off on a show,” Alan answered.

Soarin shrugged. “Still a Wonderbolt, got to please the crowd sometime.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a Wonderbolt,” Thunderlane added. “So what’s your excuse this time?”

Alan smiled. “Alright, alright, you caught me. Twi’s been trying to help me develop my magic skill, so while she has me go through all of the basic, picking up a ball and all that, I’m working on translating my shouts to spells.”

Silver spoke up. “Isn’t that kind of advanced?”

“Well, yeah...but, you see, I know how a fire spell works, and I know how my fire shout feels. The idea is, if I can make the connection between those two, I can recreate it for the other shouts.”

“Ah,” Spike said in understanding, “I see. That could work.”

Silver shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Yeah, well that’s the plan anyways, I’ve had mixed results so far, and no real breakthroughs.”

“Let me know how that turns out,” Spike said before sipping his mug. “You’ve got me interested in this now.”

“Will do, Spike.”

“Y’all want some fritters?” Applejack asked.

“Oh, yes.”


“Don’t mind if I do.”



Princess Celestia walked the empty hallways of Canterlot Castle. The loud clop of her golden shod hooves echoed as she walked through this hardly-visited wing of the castle. She had been hearing rather disturbing things about her nephew as of late, and with a little direction from Alan’s latest letter, decided that something should be done about it.

She stopped as she came upon the large doors to his personal chambers.

The two guards on the sides of the doors stood at attention, ready for any order that may be given to them.

She waited a moment.

Just a moment.

And then entered the room as softly, and as quietly as she could.


Prince Blueblood XVI frowned.

It had been three years now.

Three years since he had been humiliated publicly by that warmonger they call the Pendragon. Three years since he had his duty of planning the Grand Galloping Gala stripped from him. Three years since he had first walked into the Royal Libraries, searching for a spell that would rip that stallion’s insides to pieces.

Blueblood’s eyes flashed green and red.

Three years, and time was almost up.

He swirled the wine in his glass before taking another gulp, not bothering to savor the flavor of the three-hundred-year-old wine. He didn’t really care.

He was a powerful enemy, to be sure, but with this new power, it would be much easier.

He gave a feral grin at the thought of tearing apart that mare next.

Maybe she should go first?

As these dark thoughts filled his mind, he thought for a moment that the room got brighter.

He blinked, before the room returned to its regular darkness, and he growled. “I told them I did not want to be disturbed, peasant,” he sneered.

A soft, gentle voice answered. “Am I not allowed to walk in my own Castle?”

The prince jumped, leaping out of his chair at the sound of Celestia’s voice. “Princess! I—”

She smiled. “It’s alright, Blueblood. It’s alright,” she said, comforting her nephew.

“I...forgive me, Auntie…” Blueblood said. “I...I thought you were the help.”

Celestia gave him a firm frown. “And you refer to the help as peasants?”

Blueblood winced. “I...I...I do…” he admitted, figuring that lying would only worsen his situation.

Celestia sighed, before stepping toward her adoptive nephew. She draped her wing around him, and pulled him to the side. “Blueblood, Blueblood, Blueblood…” she sighed again. “What happened, Blueblood?”

The Prince furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, Auntie?”

She glanced down at the Prince. “What do you think I mean?” she asked simply.

“Well…” Blueblood began. “I...it’s all the Pendragon’s fault,” he answered in a huff. “Do you know what he did to me?” he asked. “He humiliated in front of everyone. He stole money from me, and ruined my reputation! He destroyed me! He—”

“I asked him to,” Celestia said simply.

Blueblood jumped out of the embrace of her wing. “What!?” he demanded. “You!? You betrayed me!?”

“I didn’t betray you, Blueblood,” she stated.

“You! It was you! I should have known! I should have known that I couldn’t trust—”

“Blueblood,” she interrupted, and the power in her voice stopped his rambling short. “I did not betray you. I was trying to help you.”

“Help?” he asked, anger rebuilding in his voice after being so quickly destroyed. “You were trying to help? And how exactly was destroying me helpful?”

Celestia hung her head. “The Gala committee had been talking about changing the planner the year before. They were getting tired of the same thing every year, Blueblood. The only ones who were really enjoyed your Galas were lesser nobles, the ones that made it a point to talk to you and tell you what a great job you had done. Nopony else enjoyed them.”

Blueblood blinked.

“This is the second time I tried to help you, Blueblood. I tried to get the Bearers of the Elements last time, but with the way you treated Rarity, they didn’t want to come back.

“The decision to replace you was cemented when the Pendragon replaced your Gala with what he did. They picked someone who enjoyed the changes, but still knew how to be refined. They wanted the middle ground between the two, and that was something you could have done, Blueblood.”

“I…” he began.

“And I know you can do that, Blueblood,” Celestia continued. “I know that you can be just as wild as the Pendragon because I’ve seen it.”

She gave a small smile. “I remember a little colt running around my chambers, holding a map of an imaginary land and talking about how he would be the greatest explorer Equestria had ever known. A colt who scoffed and ridiculed his etiquette teachers and,” she stifled a laugh, “made rather rude jokes about the royal physician.”

Her smile faded as she looked back at the stallion in front of her. “So I ask again. What happened, Nephew?”

“He grew up,” the Prince replied bitterly. “He grew up and learned how important etiquette was. He didn’t have the time to chase silly dreams of candy cane forests. He couldn’t go off and explore a useless land when he could be navigating a ball and becoming a VIP unlike any had been before.”

“Licorice,” Celestia said.


“It was a licorice forest.”

“It is childish!” Blueblood roared. “It’s pointless, ridiculous, and a massive waste of precious time!”

“Blueblood…” Celestia began.

“Not like you would know what being grown up means! Between your practical jokes and your disgusting cake habit, you’re no better than a four-year-old! Here’s a thought, maybe if you actually acted your age, other countries would respect you enough that they wouldn’t go to war! It’s garbage! All of it is garbage!”

Celestia said nothing.

“Am I the only one that still knows how to act like proper royalty? Am I the only one with a brain, or is that a commodity too?” He asked, yelling.

He turned and stomped further back into his room, only to find himself without a place to walk off to.

Celestia sighed. “If that’s how you feel, Blueblood,” she said, before standing.

Blueblood did not face her.

She began to leave, before Blueblood heard the ring of magic, and the pop of teleportation. The unmistakable rustle of paper sounded behind him, before Celestia spoke again. “Goodnight, Nephew.”

And then the door closed behind her.

The room went silent.

Blueblood stared angrily at the wall, refusing to look at the table where Celestia had left her gift. He didn’t care what it was. He didn’t want to know.

He glanced back.

A newspaper hat, and a small sheet of parchment.

His eye twitched at the sight of the hat, and stomped over to it before ripping it apart. He shredded it, leaving no piece of paper larger than his bow tie. “Stupid! Childish! Imprudent! Wasteful! Pointless!”

His eyes turned to the sheet.

A childish map of some stupid, made-up country stared back up at him happily.

He snatched the map up, furious, and began to rip...it…

In half…

The land, a mythical country colored in bright ink, almost smiled at him. The word “Bluelandia” was written proudly across its face.

Greengrass Field had the majority of the land, stretching from Chocolate Milk Falls to the Licorice Forest.

A stray memory, one of a very young Blueblood came to mind.

“And then, if you follow the path of Rainbow Bricks, you’ll come to the Licorice Forest!” The young colt explained excitedly.

“The Licorice Forest?!” Celestia asked, smiling as she watched Blueblood explain the next continent he would explore.

“Yeah! The trees are made of licorice!”

“Really? But how will the trees last if they’re made of licorice?” Celestia asked, smiling all the way.

“The trunks of the trees are made of black licorice! Nopony would eat those!”

Celestia laughed.

Blueblood the stallion stared back down at the map, already sporting a large wound from his anger.

“It...it’s childish…” he muttered. “Childish and stupid…” he said before he continued to rip it again.

It was like trying to tear through steel.

The paper fluttered as Blueblood’s magical grip shook.

He stared at the map, the map he hadn’t seen since he was six. The happy colors and childish legend seemed simple at best, but…

The expertly drawn compass rose in the corner of the map was as much a signature as it was an accusation.

The Super Slide Tower and the Castle of Cool called to him, reminding him of the two most strictly enforced rules of the country, specifically, the “No School” and “No Brussels Sprouts” laws.

He...he sighed, and set the map down on his desk.

He stared at it, a nostalgic smile on his face and tears gathering in his eyes.

Then, he slowly opened one of his drawers, and blowing away the dust, began to pull out rulers and compasses, protractors, and various other drafting tools.

Finally, he took out another sheet of parchment, a quill and an inkpot.

He could not remember how long he sat there, scratching away at the fresh piece of parchment, but when he finished, he could not help but smile.

He had a new map, done professionally this time, with flowing script labeling the various landmarks. The coast was decorated perfectly and the forest was amazingly marked.

He smirked to himself. “You can still draw a good-looking map.”

And then he frowned.

“What am I doing?” he asked himself. He sat back down and stared up at the ceiling. “‘Navigating social scenes,’” he scoffed. “If I could miss the committee's wishes so easily then maybe not.”

He looked down at his flanks, and saw his Cutie Mark staring back at him. “So who am I, really?”

That was the real question.


Blueblood had stayed up the whole night, and he still did not have an answer.

However, in all of the pacing and thinking, he finally had a solution.

A large saddlebag, stuffed to the brim with surprisingly basic survival gear, sat by the door, ready to go.

He was almost ready. All that he needed to do was let his Auntie know.

He approached his desk, and took a fresh sheet. “Now…” he muttered. “How to start.”

He stared at the page for a long time, before he began to write, carefully sculpting each word, letter by letter.

“Dear Princess Celestia,

I’m sorry. It was not my place to say the things I said. I apologize.

Secondly, I wish to...express my gratitude for the conversation. It certainly has given me a lot to think about.

Too much, in fact.

I simply don’t know what to think anymore. I...I hardly know who I am. Am I the explorer I thought I was when I was a foal, or am I the politician I molded myself into.

I simply don’t know.

For the past fifteen years, I have been convinced that the social scene was my realm, and I have explored them well. Now, however, I feel that to give the other side of me a chance, I must go into the wild and learn the rules of the jungles and forest as I had for balls and galas.

So...so I will go. I’m going and I do not know when I am coming back, if at all.”

His quill shook as a smile began to grow across his face.

“And...and I find that exhilarating. That prospect of danger has gotten my blood to boil already, and I am still standing in my room!

Oh, I pity myself for not doing this sooner…

So...thank you, Auntie. Thank you for talking to me.

Maybe when I return, I will thank you for what you did to me, maybe I never will. I don’t know.

I don’t even know who I am.

And so, I’m off to find out.

Give my congratulations to Fancy Pants, perhaps he can plan a better Gala than I ever could. And...also extend an apology to the Pendragon and that unicorn mare for me. It is the proper thing to do, and I have been rather ill-mannered to not have done so already.

Wish me luck, Auntie. I’m sure you’ll find some way of contacting me.

Your Nephew,


He paused.

“Your Nephew,

Prin Blueblood.”

He finished, blowing on the ink to dry it, rereading what he wrote.

And then he smiled again.

“P.S. Your doctor is still a quack.”

Chuckling to himself, he rolled the scroll closed, and sealed it tight. And then, with a smile, he lifted his saddlebags onto his back, and grabbed a compass from off a nearby shelf.

He checked around the room once more.

“Yes...it’s time to go.”

And with that, he opened the door and left his room.

The guards saluted him, an Blueblood passed the scroll off to him. “Can you get this to the Princess? Make sure she reads it.”

“Yes, sir!” the Guard replied.

Blueblood smiled, and began to travel down the long hallway. “If anyone asks,” he said, not turning to face them, “Tell them I’ve gone on vacation. A very long vacation.”


None knew it, at the time.

They couldn’t.

Only Faust and the Angels of Paradise knew of this moment’s importance.

As Prince Blueblood XVI walked out of Canterlot that day, he altered the history of Equestria.

But not even the Angels knew if this was for the better, or the worse.


Alright, another chapter of set up, and then it’s going to be one crazy ride from there on out.

“How crazy?”

Ok, you know you?



“I guess?”

You on Red Bull, coffee and Kool-aid.



“Well, until then, we’ll see you soon!”

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