Chapter 6
It takes longer than you think it should to fall asleep, but after a couple hours you finally get to a point of minimal consciousness. However, before you fall over the edge into sleep, you hear hoofsteps resonating from the corridor outside your room.
Your tired-eyed glare stiffens at the door and you get out of bed to find out who could be inconsiderate enough to be stomping down the hallway at this hour. You slowly crack the door and distastefully squint your eyes at the comparatively brightly lit hallway. You look to the right and immediately see a white unicorn carelessly strutting down the hallway.
Being the silent thief that you are, you exit your room and creep behind him. As you get closer, you begin to notice he has a long - if not somewhat feminine - blonde mane, and an unfamiliar cutie mark. He seems too preoccupied with himself to notice you, so you get within a few feet of him before revealing yourself.
“What’s goin’ on, Goldilocks?” you rasp darkly, eliciting a sharp gasp from the unicorn. He whirls around, petrified, and hastily backs up as soon as he sees you.
“I identify yourself, filthy peasant!” He shrieks, still backing away slightly.
“What did you call me!?” you shout back in anger, lunging on him and holding him down.
After a moment you start to hear ponies stirring in other rooms nearby.
“Unhand me, vile wretch!” he screams again, “Do you know who I am?”
You gnash your teeth at him and growl, “I don’t care if you’re the Queen of Neightherlands! What are you doing awake and marching around the hallways?”
Your question is left unanswered and you both turn your heads to see a guard walking out of his room, looking even more grumpy than usual.
“Help me!” the inconsiderate unicorn demands girlishly. The guard gasps in shock before running off in the other direction.
“Wow, very brave,” you mutter. You quickly turn back to the unicorn, “Answer my question!”
“I don’t h-have to answer to the likes of you!” the unicorn cried before spitting in your face.
That’s right. He actually spat in your face.
You take your time as your expression twists into a devilish smile. You wipe the disgusting fluid off of your face and stare down at him maliciously.
“Wrong move, Goldilocks,” You whisper before coming down on the side of his face with the same slobber-ridden hoof you had wiped your face off with.
He shrieks again and you wipe a small bit of blood that got onto your hoof onto the similarly colored red carpet. You are about to draw back for another punch when a blinding flash of light momentarily blinds your eyes that have adjusted to the dimly lit hallway.
“Gah,” you grunt, falling off of the blonde unicorn and onto your haunches.
Your mind settles and you look up in a rage, expecting the unicorn to have used a blinding spell or something of the like. Your rage subsides into a mix of anxiety and uncertainty when you see Princess Celestia standing over you in all of her wrath. Her regalia are gone and her hair is messy, but that doesn’t seem lessen her intimidation.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asks in a quiet but extremely threatening voice.
“I was, umm-…”
“And you’re out of your room,” she huffs, “assaulting a prince.”
That idiot’s a prince!?
“L-Look, I was-…”
“And I thought everything was going so well,” she admits solemnly.
“Auntie, that despicable creature struck me!” The white unicorn suddenly yelled.
“He spit on me!” you retort fumingly.
“He pinned me down!”
“He called me a filthy peasant!”
“You are one!”
You growl in response.
“Enough!” Celestia demands, her eyes glowing white, “It is clear that both of you lack-…!”
The princess is cut off by another disorienting flash of light, just like the one before but a very light shade of blue.
“What is going on, sister?” Luna asked quietly before yawning, her eyes still half closed, “I’ve gotten multiple complaints and reports.”
Celestia still remains agitated and informs Luna of all she knows of the immediate situation. Luna’s eyes open a little more fully when she hears your name and she looks down at you uneasily.
“Despite your unfounded trust in him and unsubstantiated claim that he is indeed a good pony, I cannot let him stay in a room by himself,” Celestia decides.
Luna thinks I’m a good pony?
Luna looks uncertain and responds hesitantly, “Does that mean the dungeon for him, then?” she asks hoarsely.
Celestia lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes before coming to a decision, “I’ll have him stay in my own room for tonight as a quicker solution. But it probably will mean that,” she finishes almost threateningly, “Help Prince Blueblood clean himself up, would you, sister?”
Luna’s expression once again goes tired and somber, “Sure.”
Luna stares at the floor disconcertedly before blinding light obscures your vision. You hear Celestia sigh and move around as your eyes adjust to the darkness.
Once you’re able to discern the outlines of various objects in the room, you take the time to observe what seems to be Celestia’s private quarters. The first thing you notice is the massive bed, looming next to you. Celestia climbs in gracefully and you’re stuck standing at the foot of the bed.
“Princess?” you ask quietly, and politely as possible. There is no response, “Where should I-…?”
Your question is cut short as a pillow smacks you in the face.
“Use this,” she mumbles tiredly, “make yourself comfortable.”
You’re too tired and not stupid enough to come up with a retort. You simply rub your abused snout before reaching out a hoof to feel the pillow. It was small, but incredibly soft. You shrug and lay down on the floor, resting your head on the small pillow.
“Princess Celestia,” you begin, unsure if she is adverse to you continuing, “I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll behave better from now on.”
There’s a pause while you awkwardly lay there in silence. You think about what you just said to her, realizing its implications a few seconds too late.
“Go to sleep,” she says decidedly, rolling over and using her magic to pull the sheets up to her neck.
You sigh and close your eyes. You were tired anyways. Much too tired to care if somepony was walking down the hallway or not.
---
“What do you think?”
A still silence envelops the room.
“I-I umm, think it looks great. Yes, it looks a-absolutely wonderful, sir!” the young, skinny stallion spews in a flurry of nervousness and inexperience.
“Shut the hell up,” a gruff voice replies from a slender stallion in a collared shirt sitting behind a mahogany desk. He levitates the cigarette from his mouth and clears his throat before looking back up to another stallion standing across from him, “What about you?”
“The piece doesn’t look bad, but it’s kind of twisted. You should retie it,” he remarks honestly. He was tall and rather chubby; almost the opposite of stallion next to him.
“Ah,” the stallion sitting behind the desk mutters, looking into a mirror at the spotted bow tie wrapped clumsily around his neck. The dim light casts shadows over his face, making his features difficult to distinguish, “Thanks, Gonzo.”
“Anytime, Sir,” Gonzo replies with a smirk down at the skinny stallion, who looks down embarrassedly.
“So,” he continues after fixing his bow tie with a bit of magic, “What’s new today?”
“Net profit is usual. Nothing major,” Gonzo starts, “Well, except for…”
“What?” the stallion asks impatiently before taking another puff of his cigarette, “What is it?”
“We’ve had another incident. There was a small riot at our camp in Baltimare and Big Ty was messed up pretty bad,” Gonzo continues somberly.
“Another riot?” he reiterates grimly after a short pause, “Any details?”
“The riot was led by the same one as last time. He got a few of them all confident and before we could get enough reinforcements, Ty was on his own against a bunch of ’em. We have that instigator kept in solitary for now, but we’re still deciding what to do wit ‘im.”
“Kill him,” the stallion replies calmly, not missing a beat.
“Oh, Medley, a-are you sure? What about-…”
“Do not call me Medley!” the stallion shrieks, standing up and psychotically smothering his cigarette out on his tongue as he walks around his desk and into the terrified presence of his subordinates.
Gonzo backs up frantically as Medley steps up to him, “Y-yes, sir! It was a slip of the tongue, I swear!”
Medley looks fiercely into his eyes from mere inches away, “Maybe your tongue wouldn’t be so slippery if I cut it off!” He screams ferociously, spittle flying onto Gonzo’s terrified expression.
The small room is silent for a moment as Medley glares unwarranted daggers at Gonzo. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Medley begins to chuckle in a low tone, smiling almost amiably at Gonzo. Gonzo starts to nervously laugh with him for a moment before Medley suddenly looks as if he has been insulted. He then punches Gonzo with frightening velocity on the right side of his face. He falls to the ground, nearly incapacitated.
“Take care of him,” Medley orders the skinny new recruit as he walks calmly back to his chair and sits down. The skinny stallion tries his best to aid Gonzo while he lies on his side, fading in and out of consciousness.
“Anyway,” Medley continues calmly, as if nothing happened at all, “Kill the trouble maker. He’s obviously a liability and that sounds like a good way to get rid of the problem to me.” Medley takes out another cigarette and lights it with his magic.
“Tell Gonzo what I said when he stops being such a pussy, would ya?” Medley frowns down at Gonzo and the skinny grunt.
“Yes, sir.”
---
The first thing you notice as you wake is a ferocious cramp in your neck. You open your eyes slowly, remembering instantly that you had spent the remainder of the night in Celestia’s room, on the barren, wood floor, no less.
You lift your head slightly, seeing the pillow you had your head previously rested on, a few yards in front of you. You must’ve kicked it away or something. With a discontented groan you roll over, accidentally hitting you snout on a lower leg of Celestia’s bed frame in the process. You shouldn’t have flipped over as violently, you realize.
You’re still tired from the escapade the night before, and you think of the different ways this morning could go, none of them particularly good. You lie there for several more moments, childishly wallowing in your own misfortune as you watch a small trickle of blood run from your abused snout and onto the undoubtedly expensive floor.
“Are you going to get up and clean yourself off, or do I need to help you with that?” the deadpan yet curiously dismal voice of Luna was heard from somewhere below your gaze.
You slowly and clumsily stand up and steady yourself, your breaths quick and shallow as you try to avoid inhaling any blood.
“I’m fine,” you croak out somberly, which immediately sounds out of character for you, you realize.
You look up to Luna and see and equally somber expression adorning her features as well.
“Celestia is finishing up day court,” Luna mumbles, “I’m here to escort you to her in a few minutes, and she’ll decide from there what to do with you.”
You decide that not waking up in the dungeon was the first sign of something good. You peer out of the window without responding. The bleeding is slowly coming to a stop and Luna teleports a small towel in front of you with the unspoken order to clean up your mess. You clean it up as you would if the floor was your own and Luna teleports the towel away once it’s obvious that you’ve completed the task.
Judging from the amount of natural light flooding into the room through the large window, it’s at least ten o’clock in the morning. You look back at Luna, and she motions for you to follow her. You obediently comply. Luna’s expression is more unchanging than usual. It seems that she’s hiding her feelings under her mastered guise of professionalism.
From here on out, it’s damage control.
You are led into the throne room quietly but conspicuously, and you stand in the margin on the corridor with the younger princess while waiting for several nobles to file out of the room before approaching Celestia.
Luna leads you in front of the elder princess, and then leaves your side to stand next to her sister. There is silence between you as the last few nobles and diplomats scurry out of the room. The door shuts for a final time, creating an echoing bang through the corridor.
“I would like you to tell me what you’re thinking as present time,” Celestia requests, giving you a look similar to that of a ‘disappointed’ mother.
What?
“What?” you ask hesitantly.
“Why do you think you were brought here?” Celestia repeats slightly more impatiently. Both princesses are looking at you intently.
“Well, I um…” you trail off as your mind draws a blank. Maybe a little honesty wouldn’t hurt for once.
“I’m going to the dungeon, right? I would assume something along those lines is why I am in your presence right now,” you say slowly and awkwardly.
Celestia sighs and pauses at your response.
“I know I’ve been acting like this is a big deal, and trust me, I still don’t like it one bit,” Celestia begins, “but this has happened before. Several times actually. It doesn’t usually involve as much… violence,” she finishes in a tone of dissatisfaction, “but Prince Blueblood tends to be the center of many disagreements, as much as I hate to admit it. I figured the thought that you would be sent to the dungeon for sure and what was most likely a sleepless night for you would be enough punishment for what you did.”
You take a few moments to dwell on what she had said. It doesn’t take long for the anger to well up inside of you.
“That being said,” she continues, “The freedoms you still possess will now be almost indefinitely restricted. For one, your door will remain locked whenever you are asleep at night or anytime you are in there for an extended period of time.”
Your anger subsides when you realize that she is still the one punishing you and that the consequences could have been exponentially worse. A slight wave of relief comes over you as you think more about it.
Luna’s expression lights up a little bit, you notice. She looks far from happy, but not as sullen as before.
“I’m glad we were able to address this,” Celestia says with a sigh and a very slight grin, “Luna, if you don’t mind, could you show him back to his room. And make sure it’s locked when you leave, please.”
“Sure,” she replies simply; she seems anxious to leave, already heading towards the door before making sure that you’re in tow.
You gallop a little towards her and catch up just as you’re walking out of the door. You look back a little to make sure the door shuts all the way, and as you turn your head back, something solid suddenly hits you in the side of the face and causes you to collapse backwards against the wall.
Ow, shit!
You look up, almost too surprised to be enraged, and see Princess Luna standing there over. Not believing the most logical conclusion, you struggle to ask for confirmation of what happened.
“L-Luna, did you just…?” You stammer weakly.
“That’s for making me think you were going to the dungeon,” she replies quietly, looking in the other direction.
“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t think-…”
“No, you didn’t,” she interrupts, a little closer to full voice this time, “I obviously care about you, and you seem unable to keep yourself out of trouble. I was scared, and you didn’t seem to care. Do you just not care about your own well-being?” she asks with a sniffle, “Or maybe my sister was right in the beginning; some ponies are just bad ponies.”
Her words sink in and give you a heavy feeling. The feeling is somewhat foreign; you don’t feel it often, but from a few life experiences, you can identify it as guilt. You are undoubtedly feeling guilt for how your actions inadvertently affected Luna.
Some force compels you to heave yourself off of the floor and approach Luna from behind. She doesn’t move so you walk around to her front. You reach up and hold her in an embrace. Her eyes are watery and her cheeks are red, but you feel obligated to comfort her.
“I care about you too, Luna,” you say instinctually, “I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I promise nothing like that will happen again.”
She hesitantly returns the hug and sniffles a few more times. After a moment, she pulls you in tightly and rests her head on your shoulder. You carefully rest the bruised part of your face on the side of her neck and let out a breath you were unconsciously holding.
Part of you is wondering why you just told Princess Luna that you cared about her. Whether you actually did or not was still up for debate in your head. From a logical standpoint it seemed unlikely, from a self-preservation standpoint it seemed beneficial, and from a personal standpoint it seemed… pleasurable.
Now is not the time to be disputing with yourself about whether or not you have a crush on a pretty princess, you decide. The hug was held for nearly a few minutes before you both loosened up around the same moment.
You avoid each other’s gaze for the very short walk back to your room, until Luna speaks up as you approach the doorway.
“Thanks,” she whispers, “I needed that. I’m sorry I hit you.”
You look back up at her, “I understand. It’s okay. You’ve got one hell of an arm.”
You let out a weak chuckle and she blushes with a grin.
“Well,” she starts, “You’ll probably have to stay in your room for a couple hours. I suppose myself or somepony else will retrieve you before too long when my sister finds a use for you today.”
“That was expected,” you sigh, “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say as you walk into your room.
“Okay,” she smiles in return just before you shut the door, smiling back at her.
When the door shuts your expression drops to one of neutrality, and after a moment of stillness, you hear the bolt slide into place and lock the door.
You turn around and stare at your bed in thought.
What the hell just happened?
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Hey! It updated. Well this was a nice surprise people on fimfiction have been really slow update wise so consider yourself one of the few to update now. Anyhow hoping for more frequent updates and good luck.
Wait a minute. Am I (the character) helping Shining Armor track this medley guy, or was he some kind of crime lord that I crossed? I can't really remember, and I'm too lazy to reread the previous chapters.
If you fail to update this within the next year, I shall be forced to make a parody fiction composed entirely of haiku and dedicate it to you.
(Wat).
For every month this does not update, I am posting a sad fluttershy.
THE POWER OF FLUTTERSHY COMPELLS YOU.
Month 0: