• Published 24th Jul 2016
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Gilded Sister - Kind of Brony



A young girl who never got a chance to live is gifted that chance in the form of a new body, life, and brother. How will this old soul take to her strange world?

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“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ornate asked, pushing a strand of her styled mane behind her ear. “The twins can be quite the hoofful at times, especially when Blueblood gets up to his tricks.”

“Really, Ornate, I’ve got this,” Class Act said, rolling her eyes. “I mean, sure, if there was diaper changing involved, it’d be a different story, but they’re potty trained, I can use magic around the filly, and you two haven’t given yourself a night out in nearly a year and a half.” The pink mare smiled more genuinely. “Don’t worry so much and enjoy yourself, okay. Besides it’s the least I can do for, you know, spoiling the party.”

Ornate winced. “You didn’t spoil anything, Class, all of us were just overreacting is all and ganged up on you. There’s no need to apologize for that.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not going to hear any of it. Mom’s been telling me for years that I never think before I speak, and she’s right. But I’m making a change today to be a better, kinder Class Act starting now. I upset you on a day you only should have been happy, and I’m going to make it up to you.”

“But sending the staff away, too?” questioned Ornate. “Really, Class, Blueblood and I could take a day off anytime and they’d be perfectly fine watching the foals… Well, mostly, anyway. We just haven’t gotten around to it.”

Class raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t be much of a favor if I just let the staff watch your children with me. Besides, everypony can use more days off. Most of your servants seemed pretty happy to get out of the house.”

“That’s because my son is having too much fun with magic again,” Ornate mumbled, before speaking up. “I just really think this is unnecessary, is all.”

“Okay, the twins are in bed,” Blueblood the 16th called, entering the foyer. “They should be out for at least the next hour. You ready to go, Honey?” he asked, eyeing his wife up and down and growling. “Looks like it, I haven’t seen you in that number since before the foals were born, and I must say, I’ve missed it.”

The mare, wearing a red satin dress, blushed and swatted her husband. “Oh hush, I was just making sure Class Act actually wanted to do this, especially if it’s going to be on her own. With how our son has been-”

“I’m sure she can handle it just fine. She’s a grown mare after all, aren’t you, Class?” Blueblood cut off, nervous. He did not want his wife to change her mind after nearly eighteen months of trying to convince her it was okay. They really needed this.

Class Act turned her nose up proudly. “Exactly. I mean, you’re making it sound like watching your foals is going to be harder than memorizing a bajillion lines or something. I've totally got this, cuz.”

Ornate went to argue, but her husband began herding her out the door. “You heard her, she’s got this, so come on, don’t want to be late for our reservation, do we? We’ll be back in three or four hours! Help yourself to anything in the kitchen! Snacks are in there for the foals! Okay bye!”

Class stopped her lazy waving once the door slammed shut and blew a strand of her blue mane from her eyes. “That stallion is such a weirdo,” she mused, walking into the living room and reaching into the bag she left by the couch. Pulling out a script, she flopped down on the cushions and flipped open the first page. While she didn’t agree with Uncle Revel’s decision for the next production, she would still put her all into the performance. She was a professional, after all.


A loud creak awoke the young mare as she jerked her head up, a strand of drool stretched between her lip and the pages of her script. Augh, Our Town was such a boring play. How could such a fun-loving stallion like her Uncle choose such drivel?

The room was dim and she looked out the window to realize the sun had set. “How long was I out?” Class mumbled as she wiped the spit from her lip. She was going to get up and check, but the giggle that suddenly echoed through the house had her pulling her hooves back up under her. “Who’s there?” she called out, eyes darting about.

Her answer was another giggle and a fainter, high-pitched whisper. Her heart was beginning to speed up before she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. With a relieved sigh, Class called, “Okay you two, enough hiding, I know you’re around here somewhere.”

All she got in response was a rattling from the kitchen. Sighing, the mare got up, lit her horn a light pink just bright enough to guide her path, and headed towards the source of the sound. As she arrived, she saw the light was on and so unlit her horn. “You two hungry? I think your mom left apple slices in the fridge for-” She was stunned silent by the sight of two chairs perched precariously atop each other with a little filly holding the base steady while a colt stood on top, head buried in the cookie jar set on the fridge.

The filly’s eyes went wide upon seeing their foalsitter. “We’ve been had! Quick, throw the cookies down!” At this, the colt looked up, mouth brimming with cookies as he made a surprised sound in the back of his throat.

Class Act’s heart froze when the colt lost his balance and toppled over. Her legs didn’t however as she lunged forward, horn igniting to catch her ward. Just as his descent slowed, a squeak of pain emanated from the filly who stumbled, having been attempting to catch her brother, and instead unintentionally bowling the older mare’s hooves out from under her.

Magic cut off, Class fell over, though luckily not onto Pure, and soon became a cushion for Blueblood’s landing. All three groaned as they got their bearings, with Blueblood being the first to recover. Quickly scrambling to his hooves, he rolled off the pile and gathered the stolen cookies in his magic.

“Come on, Pure, let’s go!” he called to his sister who was rubbing her head. Not waiting for an answer, he took off and Pure struggled to follow. Before she could make it more than three steps however, a pair of thin forelegs wrapped around her waist.

“Gotcha, you little trouble-maker!” Class Act crowed. Blueblood glanced at the struggling filly, eyes wide, before turning tail and running out of the kitchen.

"Brother, where are you going?! Come back and help me!” Pureblood fruitlessly pulled against her captor, grunting. “Traitor! At least leave me a cookie!”

“Pureblood, stop that!” Class demanded as she sat up, and to her surprise, the filly actually did, going limp in her grip with a sigh. “What were you two even thinking, doing something so dangerous? Like, I expect a stunt like this from a colt, they’re reckless, but you’re a filly, I expected better. And aren’t you supposed to be super smart?”

“Umm, Bluey is very persuasive?” Pure tried, attempting to appear innocent. When Class Act didn’t look convinced, Pureblood pouted and crossed her hooves. “It was a calculated risk,” she grumbled. “With Blueblood’s magic, it wasn’t that dangerous, and the payoff was Mom’s triple chocolate cookies. She only lets me have three a day. Three! You understand, don’t you?”

Class continued to stare for a moment longer, then says, “Okay, yeah, I can see where you’re coming from.” She really did. No doubt that was Aunt Golden’s recipe, making those cookies as delicious as they were waistline destroying. “But that doesn’t change the fact that that was a totally dangerous stunt and I’m going to have to tell your parents about this.”

This got a panicked look from the filly. “W-what? No! Please don’t tell Mom and Dad!”

“No can do, little missy, you should have thought about that before you decided to play Jenga with the kitchen furniture. Now where’s that brother of yours? Blueblood! Get your little patootie out here right now!”

As she waited, expecting a guilty colt to come slinking into the kitchen any second, she heard the limp filly in her hooves sniffle. “They’re going to be so disappointed, and all for some stupid cookies. I’m such an idiot.”

Blinking at the self-deprivation, Class Act wanted to say something comforting, but an ominous voice stopped her. “You made little sister cry… I don’t like you.”

Shocked by the odd statement, Class could only mutter, “W-what?”

“Let her go, or be sorry.”

For a second, the mare thought of complying, until remembered who she was dealing with. “Blueblood, enough playing around. Come out here now.”

“… Come and get me.”

Class gasped, Oh, his parents were definitely going to hear about this. “Okay, fine, make it harder for yourself. I hope you get no dessert for a week because of this.” Standing up, she looked down to the sad filly in her the crook of her foreleg. It’d be a pain walking around on three legs, but she couldn’t carry her with magic. “Pure, I’m going to put you on my back, so hold onto my neck. You’re not going to cause any trouble, right?”

“No ma'am,” was her solemn reply as she was placed across her foalsitter’s withers. “But you probably shouldn’t play Bluey’s games. He’s gotten really creative with them despite only using levitation with his magic. The staff here says he’s Discord incarnate… whatever that means.”

Rolling her eyes, Class responded, “I’m sure I can handle one colt.” Stepping out into the dim hallway, contemplating on whether it would be safe to use her horn as a light source again when she had Pureblood on her back. Luckily, she remembered she wouldn’t have to and began running a hoof along the wall.

As she finally found the switch, the mare thought how lucky Ornate was to live in one of the few homes in Canterlot equipped with electric lights. It was definitely a convenience she’d be investing in someday. “There, let’s see the little fella hide now,” she said cheekily, before jolting at the sound of squeaking from above.

Looking up revealed each light bulb being surrounded by a blue glow one by one and being twisted from their sockets. Class Act gaped as each bulb subsequently flew down the hall and around the corner. “Told you so,” Pure whispered.

“Yeah…” Class breathed before shaking her head. “I mean, no, that’s not impressive at all. I could do that too.” When I was ten, was left unsaid.

“Let Pure go and leave,” Blueblood warned from the shadows.

Steeling her nerves, the foalsitter called back, “Not gonna happen. You and your sister are going into time out until your parents get home.” The response this time was a raspberry, and Class Act was officially done. “That’s it!” she yelled as she ran down the hall. She was not going to be insulted by a pony who probably still wet the bed.

Turning the corner, her vision was immediately obscured by an object flying towards her face, though luckily for the young mare’s career, they turned out to just be pillows. With a loud pomf and a spray of feathers, Class came to a halt, only to be pelted by several more downy objects of doom. Falling to her rump, she hacked both from the quills in her mouth and nostrils and her passenger tightening her grip around her neck.

“Um, are you okay?” Pure asked.

With one final whinnying sneeze, the last of the feathers were expelled from Class' airways and she could answer. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Where’d your brother go?”

“Oh, I think I saw him heading towards our room,” Pure supplied, looking hesitant. “Miss Act, I think maybe you should give up.” At the angry huff and weak glare directed at her, Pure eeped. “N-not that you can’t catch him, but, um, somepony might get hurt, and I can probably calm him down.”

“Yes, and then I won’t tell your parents what you two did tonight because of how thankful I’ll be.” Class said, head bobbing slightly with each sarcastic word. “Yeah right. I was a filly too once, I know all the tricks. Perfecting the puppy dog eyes was what earned me my cutie mark.”

Ignoring the filly’s denial of manipulation, Class Act continued her crusade, determined to prove her superiority to this insufferable little colt. Remembering which room her cousin said was the foals, Class Act came to stop in front of the door and called out, “There’s nowhere for you to go, kid, come out peacefully and I might be able to convince your parents to only ground you for half of your life. It’s a sweet deal, I suggest you take it.”

“Never surrender!” Blueblood answered, quoting his Grandpa Shield.

Class smirked. “I hoped you’d say that. You were a worthy adversary, all things considered, but your rebellion ends here.” With a roar, she opened the door and charged, only for her hoof to catch on a twisted up bed sheet pulled along the bottom of the entrance and to topple forward into a pyramid stack of blocks spelling out U-ARE-SMELLY.

There was a screech from both mare and filly as gravity took hold accompanied by an evil laugh of a very misbehaved colt. The boy had to be given credit however, as his sister was shot from her captor’s back, over the toppled blocks, only to land safely on a stack of pillows

As Pureblood stood dizzily, her brother ran to grab her by the hoof. “Come on! Let’s get out of here!” She didn’t resist as she was dragged out of the room, still trying to stop her head spinning.

As they passed the down mare, she attempted to stand and give chase. “H-hey, you two, get back he- Ah!” Class Act buckled as soon as she put pressure on her front left leg and she yelped in pain. When tears began to well up in the mare’s eyes and she cradled her hoof to her chest, Pure went rigid, staring shocked as Blueblood tried to pull her along.

“Oh no.”


I can’t believe how out of hand I’ve let this night get. With how much trouble Blueblood has been causing lately, I felt everypony could use a break. When my brother had been given permission to use his magic freely, he had tried taking full advantage of it. Unfortunately for him, he soon realized he could no longer pull off the same feats as he could when his magic was newly developed.

Apparently, his first mystical growth spurt had ended and his body had grown enough to contain the energy without having it leak chaotically. His magic had begun to settle, and he was not happy about it. Despite being told how impressive it was to still have such a mastery of levitation after this stage of development, Blueblood wanted more and took to practicing constantly.

Much to the dismay of the adults who became subjects to his random, and inventive, magical exercises. So when they were offered the night off, I was glad at first, but as I lay in my bed, Dad having just tucked us in, I felt fear bubble up inside. Not a day had gone by since the start of my new life that I did not see my parents, and I had grown used to being that way. But now they were leaving.

How long would they really be gone? Would they return in a few hours as they promised, or would this be my past life all over again? A few fleeting visits a week while I remained alone. It was foolish, irrational, but the thought wouldn’t leave me be. I lay there, eyes closed in faux-sleep for what must have been an hour until my brother stirred beside me.

Once he was awake and aware of the situation, there was no stopping him, and, perhaps not wanting to, I indulged him more than I should have when he suggested we go for the cookie jar. Maybe it was for the promise of relief from my nerves, sweets having a calming affect I was never able to indulge in during my previous life, or maybe it was some misguided act of rebellion; payback for the perceived abandonment.

Either way, the plan was solidified when I spotted the sitter snoring on the couch. We weren’t going to be caught, the house was empty, there would be no repercussions. Blueblood was giddy, not only over the prospect of getting his hooves on those chocolaty discs of heaven, but also because I was supporting him for once instead of merely watching disappointingly from the sidelines.

Then we did get caught and I was faced with the full ramifications of my stupidity. I was complacent after that, giving into the mare’s demands in hopes of saving myself and my parents even more grief. If only Blueblood would have thought similarly.

“Come on, Sis, we gotta go!” Blue says, trying to pull me from my rooted position.

I frown, the time for complacency over. “No,” I state, bringing a baffled look to Blueblood’s face.

“No? But I beat her! We can have all the cookies we want now!”

“I said no, Blueblood!” I jerk my hoof from his and point to the whimpering mare. “She’s hurt and we need to help her!” Ignoring his argument that she’s mean, I go to Class Act’s side. “Miss Act, are you okay?”

Looking up in slight bewilderment, Class Act’s face suddenly scrunches up with a pained hiss. “It’s my hoof, I… I think I really hurt it in the fall.”

“I-Is it broken?”

Finally pulling the hurt leg from her chest, she says, “I don’t think so.” She tries to bend it at the fetlock and winces. “M-maybe just a sprain. It sure does feel like one.” Chuckling sardonically, she adds under her breath, “This is my first year ballet recital all over again. What’s with me getting thrown by colts?”

As she shifts to get the wooden block out from digging into her ribcage, I turn to my brother. “Go get something cold from the refrigerator, it will make her hoof feel better.”

Blueblood is scandalized. “But she’s mean! She caught you and chased me!”

“Because we were doing something dangerous to steal cookies we weren’t supposed to have,” I counter, somewhat satisfied to see a shamed blush come to the colt’s cheeks. Usually, it’s Mom or dad that scolds him for his misbehavior, so it’s odd for both of us for me to be the one taking the role. Nonetheless, it’s necessary right now. “Go get something cold,” I say again, and, albeit with a grumble, Blueblood goes to do just that.

Turning back to my foalsitter-turned-patient, I help push the blocks away so she can lie more comfortably. “…I’m sorry.” Looking at the miserable mare, it’s all I can think to say. “I should have talked him out of this instead of helping him. I was being really stupid.” Despite my best efforts, I find myself tearing up and have to rub the moisture away with a foreleg. “And now somepony got hurt.”

“Hey there, none of that.” A hoof is placed under my chin and Class looks me in the eye with a smile. “I was being pretty stupid too. Like, what was I thinking, right? Running through the dark house like a crazy pony, it’s no wonder I didn’t trip earlier. And I was carrying you on my back, so really I should have known better. We’re lucky your brother put those pillows out for you… though I’d have appreciated a few for myself.”

Her smile becomes wistful. “I really messed this night up, didn’t I? You know, your mom is only a few years older than me, and yet, just look at her. Happily married, two beautiful foals, everypony likes her, she has her life together. I guess I just wanted to prove I could be like her, at least to myself, but I guess I should have known better. I’m an airhead, it's better if I just stick with acting.”

Seeing the defeat in her eyes, I feel even worse, but can’t think of anything to cheer her up. Before I figure something out, Blueblood reenters with a bag of cold chocolate chips. “Here,” he says with a frown, as he gives them to me. “Happy now?”

“Yes, I am,” I respond with a grateful smile. “Thank you very much.” Looking at the bag, I can’t help but feel my lip twitch, and as I pass it over to Class, I see she has a similar reaction.

“Chocolate, huh? Oh, the irony. I hope your mom doesn’t mind that they’re going to get a bit melted.” Placing the bag over her ankle with magic, she hisses, and then sighs. “Oh, oh yeah, that’s better.”

“I’m glad, and I’m sure Mommy won’t care. She’ll probably be too focused on Blueblood and me to care about some chocolate.” Though it’s meant to be joking, I fail to keep the anxiety out of my voice. I’m really not looking forward to that.

Class frowns a little. “Hey, do you two mind helping me to the couch? It’d be a lot more comfy than this floor.”

I get Bluey to agree with only a little prodding and the three of us make the long trek to the living room; Class having to hobble along on three legs adding a few minutes to the trip. Eventually though, we succeed in escorting our foalsitter and she collapses heavily on the couch.

“Phew, I’m not looking forward to having to do that for the next few days,” she says, lifting the bag up to check her injury. “Hopefully I won’t have to. The swelling’s not looking as bad as I thought it’d be, so that’s something. Maybe I’ll pay my old ballet teacher a visit and see if she can’t work her healing magic on this. That mare might have been a taskmaster, but she knew a thing or two about treating injuries.”

“That’s good,” I say from the floor. “Um, do you want anything?”

Class blinks a few times before chuckling. “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the one taking care of you?” She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good right here. I mean, if you want to not get up to any more mischief so I don’t have to move, that’d be nice.”

Beaming, I salute. “Sure can do, right Bluey?”

“What? But that’s boring! The house is empty, it’s never like this.”

Well, I can’t really argue with that kind of logic since me thinking that way was sort of what caused this mess, but I very well can’t let Blueblood run rampant for the rest of the night, so I use my ace in the hole. “P-please, Big Brother? Do it for me?” Being the little sister has some perks, I suppose.

“Grk!” he clamps a hoof to his chest, trying fruitlessly to break his gaze from my shimmering eyes before eventually heaving a sigh and slumping to the ground. “Fine, let’s just do nothing then. Woohoo.”

“Oh, thank you, Big Brother!” Bringing out my pièce de résistance, I heave the colt up by the shoulders and lay a big, wet kiss on his cheek, bringing a bright blush to his face as he pretends to furiously wipe the afflicted area.

As he goes on about how gross that was, Class leans down with a sly smile and whispers, “Not bad. Could use a little work, but that was a pretty solid performance.”

“What can I say, he inspires my best work,” I reply with a sly smile as Blueblood moves to rubbing his face on the side of the couch.

“You might have the makings of a fine actress in you, girl… want some lessons?”

I look up at her hopeful face, just waiting for me to say yes, and I can’t help but nod. It’s the least I can do for her after the night she’s had, and it might be fun.

“Oh, I know just the performance!” she cheers, turning suddenly to Blueblood. “But we’ll need a third actor to play the villain, and after today, well…”

Blueblood looks around for a bit before pointing to himself. I don’t know why he tried to avoid participating. With two sets of pleading eyes on him, he didn’t stand a chance.


When Ornate Garden and her husband returned, it was with rosy cheeks, the occasional stumble, and glowing smiles. “Oh, oh dear, I think we may have had too much wine,” Ornate said with a giggle. “We still have to take care of the twins by ourselves until the all help returns.”

“Bah, I’m sure Class Act will either have them in bed or tuckered out by now. I think getting that dress off of you should be our first concern,” Blueblood responded, nipping at his wife’s neck.

With a gasp, she playfully swatted at him. “Don’t say such things out in the open, ponies could hear!”

“The benefit of living on a large estate is that the neighbors are far away.” Laughing, the two entered their home after one final kiss. “Well, everything looks fine so far. The place hasn’t burnt down.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Ornate chided. “Tonight’s been going so wonderfully, I’d rather not have to deal with a house fire.” An ear perked up. “What’s that?”

Blueblood swiveled his own ear. “Don’t know, sounds like it’s coming from the living room, though.” As the two proceeded down the hall, the sound became distinguishable as Class Act sounding quite angry, causing the pair to hurry their steps.

When they arrived, it was not to see a shouting match between the sitter and their children, but to the young mare and their daughter wearing makeshift cloaks while confronting their son who had his mane done up in two spiral buns.

“Your reign of terror ends here, Grogar! We, Celeste and Selene, shall vanquish you and this foul city to the abyss it belongs!” Class Act declared righteously, stomping a hoof. A stuffed animal squeaked underhoof, its countless brethren lay scattered across the floor, battered and beaten.

“Yes, no longer shall you disturb the rest of the dearly departed for your twisted schemes!” Pure added, a surprising amount of conviction in her words.

This passion was not shared with her brother however, as he stood upon the coffee table looking dully down at the girls. “You are fools to come here, the center of Tambelon, where my strength is at its greatest. Mere foals such as you are nothing compared to the dark powers of the Bewitching Bell.” Despite the monotone delivery, it was impressive for a foal so young to speak with such complexity.

Class smirked. “You are the fool, ram, for while you may be able to channel all of its power here, it is still your weakness, and you’ve let us get this close.”

“And have been so easily distracted.” Pure added. “You’ve focused so much on the decimation of your undead army, you didn’t even notice you were open to a surprise attack.”

“What,” Little Blueblood said, turning slowly to the space behind him to see a small bell be toppled by one of his tin soldiers. “Noooo.”

“Return to the shadow realm where you belong, monster, and never return,” whispered Class, closing her eyes. “Aaand scene…”

“Yeah! We won!” Pureblood cheered, kicking a toy. “Take that, zombies!”

“Yes, and it only took twenty-two takes. Good job memorizing your lines, Blueblood, or should I say, Grogar, Lord of the Undead? See, I told you it wasn’t that hard.”

“Right,” the colt replied. “Can I just go to bed now?”

“Blueblood actually wanting to go to bed early? Dear, did you give birth to triplets and not tell me? Because that is obviously an evil twin,” the elder Blueblood said from the sidelines.

The eyes of both twins snapped to their parents. “Mommy, Daddy!” they both cheered, rushing over to be swept up in hugs.

“Oh, my babies!” Ornate said, showering them both in kisses. “How was your night?”

“Great!” Pure began, “Class had these really fun idea to act out the battle scene from this really cool play and it was so much fun!”

“Yeah, because you got to beat up the toys. I had to stand in one place the whole time,” little Blueblood complained, ruffling his mane until the buns came undone.

“You weren’t just standing there, you were controlling an army of the undead,” countered Pure. “That’s plenty fun.”

“That’s right,” Class added with a sage nod. “One of the keys to a good performance is to make yourself believe in what you are acting. Good job, Pure, I’m glad you remembered.”

“Riiight,” the father said. “Well besides epic battles and world saving, did you do anything else interesting tonight?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, his son’s eyes began shifting about while Pure’s dropped down.

“Well…” Class Act said, looking at the two children, expression hesitant. “No… not really. All in all, it was a pretty boring night until, you know, the play. They slept for a while, had some snacks, we played… tag, and then this. Perfectly normal night.”

“That’s good to hear,” Ornate said, sighing in relief. “I was worried something would go wrong like you’d have been driven mad or something. The twins, especially this little rascal-“ she rubbed the top of her son's head, “Can be pretty difficult at times.”

“Nah, it was a great time.” Class said with a wave. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“We’ll definitely keep you in mind,” Ornate, said, placing her foals down. “What do you two think?”

While Blueblood looked indifferent, his sister stared at the young mare like she was an alicorn before charging forward and hugging her foreleg. “You’re the greatest first cousin, once removed ever.”

Class Act blinked down at the filly before smiling fondly. “And you’re the greatest, um, cousin’s daughter, ever. And Bluey?” the colt turned to her. “… You’re okay too.”

After he snorted in response, Ornate took the foals to their room as her husband led their guest to the exit. “Are you okay, you seem to have a bit of a limp?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, just hurt my hoof… punching stuffed animals. Things are pretty hard.”


“Ornate, why are all the hallway light bulbs missing?”

“No idea. Do you know why the lid to the cookie jar is off… or why the jar is empty?”

Author's Note:

Can you believe this was intended to be an interlude before a heavier chapter? Darn thing was just too fun and I kept on writing, Now it's the longest chapter.
Now, just in case people have this question, I'll explain a bit on why Blueblood is actually good at magic. The way I see it, Blueblood had above average magical power in canon due to his bloodline, but simply no real skill in it for lack of proper study. In this world though, having had to repress his innate magic for so long has made him appreciate the art much more. Combine this with a sister who enjoys teaching his brother and inadvertently instilling in him a stronger will to learn, and you'll probably get a stallion much more proficient than his canon-self.
Not by a whole lot, but it will be noticeable.

P.S.
On an unrelated note, has anyone here not read An It Harm None? I thought it was a pretty neat story when I first read it and am surprised it doesn't have more recognition. Feel it's a bit of a diamond in the rough.