For Want of a Nail

by Slushpile

The Prince

“When one is in power, it is better to be loved than reviled. But when one is in exile, it is better to be reviled than recognized.”

Blueblood leaned back in his plush red chair and sighed as the ink on the page began to fade, replaced once more with trite lines about fashion, wealth, and the various other distractions of the Canterlot nobility. The spell was a simple one: so long as he maintained it, one layer of ink would vanish and another would be revealed, and when he allowed the magic to cease, the book returned to the way it was before.

A simple spell, the sort a child would use--but under the proper circumstances, the simplest tricks were often the most effective. Few in Canterlot might think to spy in his private journal as it was, and if they did, then all they would see would be the writings of an obvious fool.

In truth, he very rarely indulged reading the true words himself, but after the events of the long evening he’d just left behind, he felt that a reminder of certain wisdoms was needed.

He sat up straight when he heard a knock at the door, and quickly shelved the book. Pushing himself away from his desk, he walked casually over to the door, giving his guest ample time to wait, pausing along the way to check his image in the mirror: tie undone, mane attractively messy. He whisked a goblet of sparkling cider from the nearby bar, and the image of princely dishevelment was complete.

“And to whom and what do we owe the pleasure of this interruption?” he inquired as he opened the door.

When he saw who was standing in the outside hall, flanked by royal guards on both sides, his exaggerated smile became a genuine one. “Ah, madame Octavia, what a delightful surprise! Gentlecolts, please, we do wish you would be a little less aggressive in keeping such lovely instruments away from us.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Quite.”

The guards parted, allowing her access to the door, which Blueblood opened wide with a smile. “By all means, do come in and have a nightcap--and gentlecolts, please, discretion,” he added with a wink towards the guards.

Octavia entered without a word, and Blueblood closed the door behind her, humming quietly as he passed his horn over the frame, sealing the room tight with a whisper of magic. As the spell settled into place, he breathed a sigh of relief, and his exaggerated posture relaxed.

“Lovely instruments?” Octavia asked after a moment, raising an eyebrow coolly.

“Technically a compliment, you know,” Blueblood answered, finishing off his glass in one gulp. “Were you followed?”

“After that debacle?” Octavia sat down in one of the chairs next to the fireplace. “It’ll be a week before the Canterlot upper crust can even make eye contact with one another.”

Blueblood couldn’t help but grin at that. “It was quite glorious, wasn’t it? Half the castle falling down and all of Canterlot chasing their tails. Amazing how much chaos a few fillies can sow.”

Octavia brushed a bit of dust from her shoulder. “Well, they are the Champions of Harmony. I hardly think the term fillies really applies--especially for that mare you had clinging to your side all evening.”

Blueblood scoffed. “Lady Rarity, you mean? If her eyes were any greener, she could use them in one of those dresses of hers. She’s the Element of Charity as much as I’m the son of Luna.”

Octavia worked the embers in the fireplace with a poker. “What was it you said to me, once? I believe it was ‘there are many kinds of camouflage, including unintentional.’ She and the others could be your peers eventually, if the Elements chose them; I wouldn’t dismiss any of them on a first impression alone.”

Blueblood looked pensive for a moment, then his mouth twisted into a self-effacing smirk and he raised his empty glass towards Octavia. “Touché.”

Octavia finished stoking the embers into a proper fire, and looked back up at Blueblood. “So, why did you call me here? I doubt you just wanted to banter.”

Blueblood set his glass down on the bar, and took the seat across from Octavia. “Well, as you said, the Gala’s thrown Canterlot into chaos, and it’s likely to stay there for a while yet. Seems like the perfect time to slip out of the city for a little vacation, don’t you think?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘vacation.’”

Blueblood looked over her shoulder, scanning the bookshelf on the far wall. He located the volume he was looking for on the bottom shelf--ostensibly, the place reserved for books never touched--and levitated it over to flip through the pages.

“Myths of the Great and Powerful,” he explained as he turned to the proper chapter. “It’s a scholarly look at some of Starswirl the Bearded’s manuscripts. You wouldn’t believe the insults I had to drop about the man before young Miss Sparkle sent me this as an ‘educational gift.’”

“There is a line between caution and paranoia,” Octavia opined. “I doubt it would have killed your image to check out a book at the library.”

“It mostly concerns magical research and the taming of the Everfree Forest,” Blueblood continued, pointedly ignoring her remarks. “But there’s a brief section which I found particularly enlightening... ah, here we are. Have a look.”

He floated the book over to Octavia, and she scanned the page quickly, her brow furrowing. She looked back up at him with a questioning expression. “Tartarus? What exactly does an underworld full of monsters have to do with anything?”

“Not monsters,” Blueblood answered. “If you want monsters, take a trip to the Everfree Forest. I know that’s the word the author and most everyone else uses, but Starswirl’s original notes in Old Equestrian are included; I believe ‘horrors’ would be a better translation.”

Octavia set the book in her lap and rested her head on one of her hooves patiently. “The distinction being...?”

Blueblood leaned forward conspiratorially. “Monsters are simple. They’re dangerous, yes, but they’re basically animals, and they can be dealt with like any other animal. What Starswirl sealed away in Tartarus, on the other hand, they’re intelligent--intelligent, ancient and dangerous. It’s the place the dragons would have gone if it weren’t for the Accords.”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed as she worked out what he meant. “You can’t be seriously considering going there.”

“Think about it,” Blueblood answered. “These are people that Celestia and Luna locked away at the height of their power, when the Elements still listened to them. Locked away, not turned to stone or really defeated. If there’s anyone who has a chance of helping us, it will be one of them.”

“Setting aside how ridiculous a notion it is to open a door that Starswirl locked, is it really necessary for me to point out that they could just as easily turn their sights on Nails as Equestria?” Octavia asked. “Freedom without war. Your words, not mine.”

“And nothing’s changed,” Blueblood answered. “Honestly, Octavia, if you think I’d propose something like this without having a plan that I know will work, you give me too little credit.”

Octavia closed the book and set it aside, staring into the dancing embers of the fire. “All right, I’ll hear you out. No promises beyond that.”

Blueblood smiled eerily. “And promises are entirely the point.” He nodded towards the book. “If you’d read the rest of the chapter you’d know what I mean, but I’ll give you the salient details.”

He turned towards the fire, and used his magic to shape the flames and smoke into imagery that complemented his storytelling. “There are quite a lot of horrors locked away in Tartarus--more than you would believe--but one in particular very nearly brought Equestria to its knees. According to Starswirl’s telling, she could slip through any border, charm any heart into giving her what she wanted. She could become anypony she desired, and fed off of the love of others, turning that love into more creatures like herself. They called her Chrysalis, the Changeling Queen.”

The fire took the shape of an emaciated and terifying mare, and the room seemed suddenly colder, as if a draft had somehow blown through. Blueblood’s dramatic flair, no doubt, but it gave Octavia just a whisper of gooseflesh all the same.

“She was eventually cornered and driven into Tartarus when Starswirl discovered a critical weakness of hers,” Blueblood continued. “While she was disguised, she could mimic anypony’s voice and mannerisms, everything that made them who they were. She was a brilliant liar, a trickster beyond measure--but always and only while she was pretending to be somepony else. That’s the trick that Starswirl figured out; so long as she was in her true form, she could not tell a lie.”

The fires changed into a march of smaller but similar creatures, with Chrysalis and a bearded figure standing before them. “The armies of Equestria chased her people into Tartarus, and she promised to follow them there so long as they were not harmed. And she kept her promise; she had no choice.”

Blueblood looked up from the fire. “So, you see, it’ll all be fine. We simply need to go to Tartarus, find this Queen Chrysalis and make a bargain with her. We both get our freedom, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt anypony. She won’t be able to.”

“'Simply.'” Octavia shook her head slowly. “Every contract has a loophole; you should know that better than anyone. If you’ve started thinking otherwise, you’re even more of a fool than you pretend to be.”

“If you’re saying that you won’t help me, I respect that decision and don’t think any less of you for it.” Blueblood leaned forward. “But I stand a much better chance of succeeding with you than without you. I’m asking you to trust me. Please.”

Octavia stared him in the eye for a long moment, finally looking away, closing her eyes and sighing. “This is madness. But I suppose madness is what I agreed to.” She looked back up at him. “Very well, I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”

Blueblood smiled warmly, and leaned back in his chair. “Just ask for some time away from the orchestra to accompany Princess Celestia’s favorite ‘nephew’ on one of his infamous hunting trips. I’ll give you the rest of the details on the road.”

“I’m not fond of dodging questions, Prince,” Octavia answered. “It tends to mean you have more to hide than usual.”

“If you want more details, finish that chapter,” Blueblood answered, nodding towards the book she’d set aside. “Else we’ll be here all night while I give you the proper background to understand what I’m talking about. Trust me, I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the time comes.”

“I’m not fond of saying ‘trust me,’ either,” Octavia said as she tucked the book into her saddlebag. “Especially when you say it twice. So when should we be leaving?”

Blueblood stood up to walk her to the door. “Three days, barring any troubles. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Octavia answered.

“Good. Watch your back, Octavia,” Blueblood said.

“And you as well, Prince,” Octavia answered with a nod, opening the door to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Blueblood added in his Royal Twit voice once she was beyond the threshold.

She paused, and turned back around to face him. “Yes, your highness?”

He smiled winningly. “Don’t forget to bring your cello next time. We do so enjoy your music.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

“Magnificent. Now go on, then, we require our beauty sleep,” Blueblood answered, then closed the door behind her.

The guards, as ever, remained impassive, as Octavia walked off quietly down the hall, leaving the prince to his schemes...