P.B. and J.

by TheAmazingMe

P.B. and ... Alcohol?

Cinnamon.

It's a common enough spice in Equestria. Canterlot certainly has enough of the stuff to bury a sizable portion of the populace. A pony of means wouldn't ever think about where it came from. There wasn't a single reason why it should be on my mind. Thanks to one pony, it was all I could think about. But that’s putting a cart in front of one disastrously handsome pony, don’t you think?

Perhaps I could blame my common upbringing. I wasn't born to privilege, as shocking as that may be. My parents passed away when I was young, leaving me to grow up in an orphanage. Without a doubt, I wouldn't have had much of a life were it not for my dear 'aunt.' Who would question the word of the ruler of Equestria? Certainly not the poor, misbred types in the orphanage.

I'd put the filthy place and the filthier ponies behind me. Celestia's strange act of kindness gave me a few new advantages. Friends, even the fake, disposable ones you could find under any rock in the capitol, were always close at hoof. When you’re the presumed heir to the throne, the lower bred and upper crust alike were easy to spread. Fillies, mares, even stallions, all vied for my attention.

“Blue!” The voice was insistent and annoyed, but I ignored it. There was something more important.

As I got older, I came to know the pleasures they would willingly give me in exchange for a few pleasant words or even merely being in my presence. Even as my star fell and others would ascend to Ali Ron status. The power I still had was intoxicating. My aunt could keep her court; I was the prince of pleasure.

“I swear by your aunt if you don’t get in my carriage this very instant!” This voice was truly grating. Did I come here with here? Where even was I?

These pleasures were short-lived. My appetite was insatiable at times and my attention even more fleeting than the flight of a hummingbird. Most ponies floated away like leaves in a whirlwind. Some blew up at me like fireworks. Those flashes could be entertaining.

“You need to get your sugar-daddy snatching hooves off of this stallion or I’ll ruin you and your family. Don’t think I can’t, I’m of noble blood!” Heather, that was her name! The pink, velvety coated beauty I’d been sitting with, or had I been talking this whole time? Well, she slinked away and Heather had my full attention now. She was very pretty, much like a firework.

Then again, some blew up a little too close to my perfect face.

“Carriage. Now!” She ordered. Ordinarily, I would have objected to being ordered around, but there was something very sexy about seeing her threaten another mare. I followed her out of the club and onto the street. She had to order her driver, Pansy? Parsley? Whatever his name, she ordered him to help me into the carriage.

I drifted in and out during her harangue. Even so, I caught the gist of it, belittling everything from my alcohol tolerance to my parentage. Given that I was too far gone to care, I well, didn’t care.

I think I’d been snoring, because the next thing I knew she was shoving my chest and screeching at me. "Get out of my carriage, you-you hedonist!" I'd been called worse. Although she was the most well-bred of any of my conquests. Also this was her carriage, I’d humored her when we went out even though the carriage I had use of was susbstantially nicer. And enclosed.

I wasn't sober enough to deal with her annoying orders. "Lighten up. Do you know how far it is from the castle? I’m freezing enough as it is in this open air contraption.”

She was apparently having none of it. I scrambled my admittedly less than sober brains to come up with a reason. "I'm certain I don't care! It would teach you to play with the emotions of a proper young mare." She huffed. She ordered the driver to stop. The subservient pony complied readily. The dumb bastard was too short-sighted to realize he'd likely take the brunt of it when her parents found out he allowed her to kick a prince to the curb. Literally. “Out,” she insisted.

"Lady Heather Fields, you just listen to me you silly mare!" I began.

She cut me off rudely. "Not another word. Out before I have the driver show you his skill with a whip!"

"'Druther see your skill with a whip—hey!" She actually shoved me. Me!

I stumbled, inelegantly landing half on the curb and half in the gutter. The sheer nerve of it all took my breath away. Her behavior far eclipsed that filly at the Gala! As I stood, I realized I'd landed in a disgustingly dirty puddle. Without another word, they were off again before I could do more than shoot her a withering glance. I shook myself, not dislodging the filth I'd accumulated one bit. From what I could tell in the dim streetlights, I might have actually made things worse. Cringing at my state, I stamped a hoof. Once again, I felt the splash of the puddle beneath me as my reward for the fit of pique.

Celestia! All this over a little flirting with another mare at the club. I remembered the mare in question now that I was cold and wet. Heather Fields was high born, but even she wouldn't have ever gotten into the club without me! That's gratitude for you. She only had to deal with the fleeting indignity, I'd be washing my mane and coat for a week to get rid of this smell!

Looking around to get my bearings, I realized swiftly that I had no clue where I was. I could hardly be blamed; I had ponies in charge of little details like locations. Not to mention I wasn't in my finest state of mind between the alcohol I'd consumed and the anger I felt at being shoved out into the cold.

Speaking of which, I began to definitely feel the chill of the night's air. It seeped into me through the wet spot on my front. I'd have to have words with my nightmare aunt for this freakish autumn cold snap. The weather had always seemed perfect before Princess Celestia allowed her evil sister to ascend to rule with her.

I pouted at the thought. I’d been chosen to rule, but the second other alicorns showed up, Celestia disinherited me. It was cruel of her to have ever declared me a crown prince before I’d had a chance to develop a talent that would earn me alicorn-hood. Celestia never taught me to raise the moon. Or how to make friends. Or how to love, even.

The filly who had taught me love-making had only made my life worse when I reminded her that I was a prince. She’d been good in bed but she was no peer.

Casting aside the thought, I lit my horn. With irritation, I noticed that my usual golden glow was blue. Magical color depended somewhat on preference and usually I preferred to make my aura golden as befitting a prince. In the blue glow I realized I’d had a few more than I thought. The cold and wet hadn’t sobered me up enough for this. I went with my gut feeling on a direction and stumbled through the dimly lit streets. There were bound to be ponies I could use to get directions or maybe even a ride.

Instead, a half a block from where I started, I heard a voice. "E-excuse me, sir. Are you going very far? You look about ready to catch a cold. What are you doing out this late?" I didn’t even turn towards the gruff voice behind me.

"I'm trudging." I answered spitefully.

"What?" He asked simply. Perhaps he was hard of hearing, or maybe it was that I was turned away from him.

I sighed, turned halfways, and spoke more loudly. "Trudging. You know, to trudge. The slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a stallion who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."

I quoted a line from a play about a tale of knights that some pretty face or another had dragged me to. It was the only memorable part of the evening; she was another of those 'proper mares.' Maybe I'd give up proper mares entirely. They seemed to be nothing but trouble. I'm sure my aunt Celestia would be scandalized, if she even noticed anything I did anymore.

"Well, if you wanna trudge into my shop and warm yourself, you could." I took a closer look at my would-be hero. He was a brown unicorn with an even darker brown mane. His muzzle was a bit rounder than most stallions. By his apparel, I'd guessed he was a baker; his apron, white chef's shirt and small hat gave it away. His rough accent wasn't any part of Canterlot I recognized.

He spoke again, interrupting my inspection. "I'll even throw in a donut and some hot chocolate. On the house."

I walked up to him and looked him over curiously. He hadn’t used my honorific. For whatever reason, perhaps it was my wounded dignity, protocol was very important to me just then. "I'm Prince Blueblood, nephew to Princess Celestia and...” I blanked on my other titles. Didn’t I have other titles? I couldn’t remember. “And a very important pony." I finished lamely.

Without a moment's hesitation, he stuck out a forehoof. "I'm Joe. Ponies call me Donut Joe or Pony Joe.”

“Pony Joe?” I asked, confused at the name as much as at his total lack of reaction towards the fact that a prince stood before him. I puffed out my chest and lifted my chin. From his expression, the effect was less than flattering.

He held a hoof to his nose. “Okay, maybe we add some coffee to take the alcohol down a notch. Now let’s get inside before we have a prince-icle to thaw.” He said with a smile.

I frowned, but started for the door. When I realized he hadn’t made a move to hold the door for me, I turned to stare at him darkly. Rudely, he slapped my flank. The contact startled me into opening the door (mostly with my face) and stumbling into the shop.

A combination of bluster and booze kept me from doing more than spluttering at him indignantly. It hit me as I stared at his smile. Either he thought I was some filthy crazed pony or he was into stallions. Or both.

"You wanna freshen up a bit? You look a little...messy." Ah, he thought I was a crazy dirty pony then. I lifted my chin again and stalked over to the common bathroom he pointed out. Were it not for the state of my dress, I'd have no doubt impressed him as a vision of perfection.

The smell of the bakery finally made its way through my booze-addled senses and I closed my eyes in appreciation. This proved to be among the many poor choices I'd made prior (and since), as I tripped over a wet floor sign and hit the ground.

Hard.

To put it lightly, that's when I called it a night.

Author's Note:

Edited and expanded 5-20-18

Comments

[MoltenXKid]

Ill keep reading this

[Grekoy]

A prince and a baker....this I need to track.

[Skarsnik]

I already love it, the world need more Blueblood stories!

[TheAmazingMe]

6970584 Glad to hear it!

6972579 I thought the concept might catch a few reader's fancy.

6972788 He gets a bum rap from his Canon appearances and being more or less mandated by Hasbro (at least as far as being a prince). I think the idea of Blueblood is underdeveloped. Hence, the story.

6973391 A what?

[Grekoy]

6975798 there's going to a comic about him and shining armor soon.

[TheAmazingMe]

6976345 I need to look that up

[Crystal Wishes]

There wasn't a single reason why it should be on my mind. Thanks to one pony, it was all I could think about.

Just how I like my romantic comedies to start... With whole-minded obsession.

As I grew, I came to know the pleasures they would willingly give me in exchange for a few pleasant words or even merely being in my presence. The power was intoxicating. My aunt could keep her court; I was the prince of pleasure.

Tsk, tsk, I thought you said you left the filthy ponies behind, hmm?

These pleasures were short-lived. My appetite was insatiable at times and my attention even more fleeting than the flight of a hummingbird. Most ponies floated away like leaves in a whirlwind. Some blew up at me like fireworks. Those flashes could be entertaining.
Then again, some blew up a little too close to my perfect face.

Really love the imagery here. Gets the message across loud, clear, and perfect.

I shook myself, not dislodging the filth I'd accumulated one bit. From what I could tell in the dim streetlights, I might have actually made things worse.

What... you mean all the cartoon physics of shaking mud off doesn't work? Lies! All lies and slander!

Instead, a half a block from where I started, I heard a voice. "E-excuse me, sir. Are you going very far? You look about ready to catch a cold. What are you doing out this late?"
"I'm trudging." I answered spitefully.
"What?" He asked simply.
I sighed and spoke more loudly. "Trudging. You know, to trudge. The slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a stallion who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."

Ahaha! "I'm trudging." Love it.

Maybe I'd give up proper mares entirely. They seemed to be nothing but trouble.

I wouldn't necessarily disagree with this statement...

I'm sure my aunt Celestia would be scandalized, if she even noticed anything I did anymore.

Oooh... I smell mommy—err, auntie issues!

“Eeyup, now let’s get inside before we have a prince-icle to thaw.” He said with a smile.

When I realized he hadn’t made a move to hold the door for me, I turned to stare at him darkly. Rudely, he slapped my flank.

... Ahahah! I'm going to wear out the rainbow laughing icon at this point! Oh, AAM, you slay me.

To put it lightly, that's when I called it a night.

Okay, just one more.

---

I love, love, love your characterization of Blueblood. It thoroughly delights me. The narrative just oozes with his personality! And, well, I don't have a good enough read on Joe yet... but I like what I see already.

[Anzel]

Really enjoyed this chapter and I can sum my reaction up in one little statement...

img.pandawhale.com/49659-George-takei-oh-my-gif-stCy.gif

As I grew, I came to know the pleasures they would willingly give me in exchange for a few pleasant words or even merely being in my presence.