Murder at the Rarity Boutique

by Coyote de La Mancha

Chapter 10: Blueblood's Confession.

“It-means-WHAT?!?”

Blueblood had preferred to answer no questions on the ride home, his mind deeply preoccupied. And Sour Sweet, bless her, had respected his wishes. But once they had arrived safely home, he had of course been asked again just exactly what the deuce had happened in the courtroom between himself and the judge.

His phrasing, of course. Not hers.

Sour Sweet’s exact choice of both phraseology and tone had naturally intrigued the ladies as well. And after a brief explanation, Sour Sweet had taken exception to his impromptu solution to the problem at hoof. And, she had felt it necessary to express herself accordingly. Quite understandable, really.

Still, Blueblood had some concerns for the lady. After all, her normally yellow face was beginning to change colour, more and more approaching the orange tint of her freckles. Although, as he thought of it, her coat was normally more of a pale gold.

And they were positively adorable freckles, he had to privately admit. Like a dusting of cinnamon on sweet lemon, just inviting one to taste.

Of more immediate concern, however, was that that his accuser seemed to only be getting started. With some effort, Blueblood focused himself back upon her own philosophical retort to his handling of the matter.

“…self-righteous, arrogant, conceited, egotistical ass!” Sour Sweet was raging on. “Just exactly, what, in the name of anything and everything sacred, were you even fucking thinking?!?”

Akane raised an eyebrow to her lover. “Think we aughtta get involved?”

Hepzibah shook her dainty head. “Non. Miz Sour Sweet, she has ze way of zis sing, I think.”

Slowly, the green mare nodded. “Yeah. I’m… thinkin’ she does, actually. In fact, ain’t we gotta… thing… t’be gettin’ to ourselves?”

“Mes oui, we do indeed.”

But as the two departed, silently closing the door behind them, Sour Sweet seemed to only be gaining momentum.

“No, really, I’m genuinely curious!” she ranted, tears beginning to form. “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you happen to be the head of an entire household! A fucking huge one! With foals! So, what do you think will happen to the ponies who live here, and their families, if something happens to you?!? Have you honestly no idea how many lives are reliant on your well-being, right now? Much less what it’s going to mean to us, losing you? You, you idiot! You self-righteous, conceited, egotistical, self-absorbed, short-sighted—!”

“Handsome,” Blueblood interjected.

Sour Sweet stared at him, seething, her contorted face deepening further from orange towards crimson.

“Well,” the prince offered, “I like to think that counts for something.”

“Will you at least try to take this seriously, you great bloody upper class twit?!?” she demanded. “You’re going to fucking TARTARUS!”

Blueblood gave a good-natured sigh.

“Would it help if I told you that I know who the murderer is?” he asked.

Sour Sweet froze, mouth open, hoof upraised. Her face gradually fading towards its normal lemony color, she slowly lowered her hoof. Closed her mouth.

“You… know who the murderer is?”

“Of course. I’m never wrong about these things, you know.”

Shaking, her face compressing into an expression of pain, Sour Sweet fell into a sitting position on the fine carpet. She sat for several seconds, her face buried in her hooves.

“Blue, I’m just curious,” she said at last, her voice slightly muffled. “Are you familiar with the term, ‘narcissist?’ Like, I don’t know, maybe you heard it go by once or twice? Even just in passing?”

Blue turned to a nearby mirror, contentedly adjusting his tie and mane. “Well, now. I’ll admit I do possess a few narcissistic traits. It’s difficult not to, with my abilities. But I will ask you to bear in mind certain mitigating circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“On me, they look good.”

Face still covered, Sour Sweet moaned.

“And I do know who our would-be elusive killer is,” Blueblood went on as he faced her again. “Truly. Which is rather crucial. Because as things stand now, the only way to gain an acquittal for Miss Rarity is to prove who really did it. Preferably, by getting them to confess. So, all I need now is to figure out how they killed him, and why.”

Still prone, Sour Sweet jerked her head up from her hooves and stared.

“Wat.”

“And to find that out, of course, I have to know everything the court knows. After that…”

“Wait,” Sour Sweet said, clutching her mane, “Wait. Wait. Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. Aren’t you doing this backwards? Shouldn’t you get the facts first? You know, that little thing that lawyers like to call evidence?”

Blueblood gave a dismissive wave. “Hardly necessary, my dear. After all, you know I’m never—”

“Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!”

The stallion paused, genuinely concerned. “Why, Sour Sweet, whatever is the matter?”

For her part, Sour Sweet seemed to be choking on something, contorting from one shaking position to another as she struggled with whatever inner demons had possessed her. It took her several minutes to recover properly, during which Blueblood patiently waited, ready to offer whatever assistance he could.

Eventually, her personal storm had passed, and she was able to speak again.

“Are… you even… feathering… serious…?”

He blinked, one ear going sideways.

“No, really,” Sour Sweet managed. “You endanger yourself, put your entire family on the line, and, and you don’t… even…?”

Shaking her head to clear it, she tried again, her voice faint. “I mean, is this some weird ego thing? Invoking some millennia-old kill-crazy bylaw on yourself? ‘Cause, if it is, this is stupid. And you’re not stupid – unless maybe I’m suddenly a total idiot, which I am not ruling out, by the way – so, why would you do this? Just… just why?”

Silence. The summer wind could be heard outside the castle walls, a harbinger for the storm to come.

Finally, Blueblood spoke.

“I was perhaps ten when I discovered my power of perception,” he said. “In my younger days, I used it to help Aunt Celestia in court.”

Then, he sighed, looking down. “I was twelve when I turned it against her.”

Rising, Sour Sweet took an uncertain step forward, concerned by this sudden change. “Um, Blue, you don’t have to…”

But he waved her objection away. “No, no, you were quite right. I have put others at risk. Moreover, you’re involved in this more directly than almost anypony else, and quite publically. You have a right to truly understand why. So, please, hear me out.

“Anyway, I was twelve. We were quarreling, she and I, I forget about what. Nothing consequential, I’m sure. But I was angry. And, and so I…”

Ashamed, he turned away.

“I told her what I saw of her, in the cruelest way I possibly could,” he said. “Her guilt, and how it spurred her forward. How she’d plainly lashed out against someone she’d loved once, and was still punishing herself for it. The burdens of the years, before and behind her, and her fear of them. And more.

“Technically, everything I said was factual. But really, none of it was true. Rather, I twisted what I saw of her heart and what guided it, forging it into a weapon for my juvenile rage. I spared her nothing. I spoke in poniards, as the saying goes, and every word stabbed.

“Yet, throughout my disgraceful display, she simply stood there, and took it. And when I was done, she simply nodded and left. She didn’t even wipe away her tears. She just… left.”

He took in a ragged breath, then let it go, staring upwards.

“I immediately ran after her, of course. Calling her name, horrified by what I had done. But she had already taken to the sky in a streak of light.

“I was beside myself. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went to Cadence, begging for her help. Of course, I had to explain why Celestia had left in the first place…”

He gave a rueful chuckle.

“To say that Cadence was furious was an understatement. But she agreed to help, and the two of us scoured the skies, looking for our aunt.

“We never found her. No surprise, really. This is Celestia we’re talking about. She could have been literally anywhere. The sun set and the moon rose while we searched, but otherwise there was no sign of her. Even to this day, I have no idea where she went.

“But the next morning, there she was. Laughing at the courtiers’ jokes as always, planning out her calendar, hearing the concerns of her ponies, making her appearances. Perfectly poised, as though nothing had happened.

“So, at the end of court, I asked for an audience with her. Certainly, I’d forfeited any right to approach her otherwise through my own shameful behavior. But it was at day’s end, so there was only myself, Aunt Celestia, and Raven, who was still in training to become Auntie’s next major domo. I don’t know where Abacus was, but he was an old stallion by then and might have retired to bed early.

“I walked the long distance from entryway to throne, eyes on the carpet, my heart hammering the whole time. My things were packed. I couldn’t look at her, but I made myself speak.”

Head lowered by the burden of memory, Blueblood continued, “I… I told her that I didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but that I truly wanted her to know how sorry I was. I promised that I would go as far away as she wanted, anywhere she wished, if only she would try to forget the terrible things I’d said.

“And do you know what she did?”

Sour Sweet shook her head, no.

“She said, and I quote: ‘Oh, my poor child. After the years of neglect I’ve offered you? It’s myself I can’t forgive.’ And then she helped me stand up, gave me a hug, and told me that she loved me.”

Blueblood’s voice was unsteady as he went on, “She took me in after the rest of my family died, to keep me from being used as a pawn in someone else’s political games. She offered me her home and her family name, respected my privacy, and genuinely did her best by me. Even while her own heart was being re-broken every evening, every time she rose her sister’s moon into the sky.

“And then, when I stung her like a scorpion, she just embraced me more.”

He turned to face Sour Sweet again. And for all that his voice cracked, his eyes were quite dry, piercing as a fencer’s blade.

“Even if Miss Rarity were not who she was, I would be doing exactly as I am now!” he declared. “Even if she were not a friend of Celestia’s and Twilight’s both. Even if she were just some stranger, or even an avowed enemy, I would still do everything that was in my power to save her, no matter the cost!

“Because, at the end of the day, that magnificent lady who is my aunt asked me to.

“And I. Said. Yes.

“Yet, Miss Rarity is not an enemy,” he went on, pacing slightly as he spoke. “Nor is she even a stranger. Granted, she is not a mare who will ever call me friend. And for that, I have no one to blame but myself.

“But even with her only hope being the mercy of the court, even with having seen the one form of aid her princess could lend her discarded into complete irrelevancy, still she faced certain doom with her head and tail held high. Openly defying all before her so that she might defend the name of the dead…

“…all so that a mourning filly on the cusp of marehood would never need doubt her father’s integrity.”

Blueblood drew himself up, meeting Sour Sweet’s gaze with eyes like blue diamonds.

“I steadfastly refuse to fail them,” he pronounced. “Either of them. I shall not; such failure is not to be borne. Not my aunt, who did all she could for me, even in the face of my own cruelty. Nor Miss Rarity, who spoke this day with the dignity of a princess and the soul of a goddess. Indeed, I do not permit failure!

“Not because I imagine being in some kind of debt for having been a child in need, nor even due to the injustices I have inflicted upon them both in the past.

“Rather, I shall do this simply because it is the very least that hearts so noble truly deserve. To do anything less would be to betray both them and myself. And by whatever powers there may be, I shall. Not. Fail.”

In the distance, thunder gently rolled.

With gritted teeth, Sour Sweet looked at the window, the floor, anyplace but at Blueblood.

“Damn it,” she finally said to the ceiling. “Damn it.”

Then, wiping at her eyes, “Fine. Fine. Fine. You’re doing this. I get it. It was the right thing to do, and you’re doing it. You did it. It’s done. And that’s fine. It’s fine. It’s FINE! It’s…”

She swallowed. “…fine.”

She sighed again, looking down in slumped surrender. “Damn it.”

Then, she suddenly rounded on him, their muzzles almost touching as he took a startled step back.

“But you’re not doing this alone!” she snarled, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. “Legal or not, I’m helping you!”

Striding to the door, she violently flung it open. She paused in the doorway just long enough to add over her shoulder, “If only to keep your stupid, noble, fool self from being damned to Tartarus…!”

Then she slammed the door behind her with a force that knocked a nearby portrait to the floor. Sour Sweet’s voice echoing on the door’s other side as she stomped down the hall, “…and you’re still an ass, by the way!”

For his part, Blueblood could only stare at the closed door. His expression one of pure bewilderment, his voice uncertain.

“…Yay?”

Comments

[TCC56]

Now that is how you do a rousing speech.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Magnificent character moments all around. Blueblood, Celestia, even Sour. Whoever the real murderer is, they don't know who they're dealing with.

Granted, it would be a lot easier if Blue knew what he was dealing with when it came to the murder weapon. Still, he has the picture on the box. Now he just needs to put the puzzle together.

... How many pieces was it, again?

[VampDash]

10520899
Oh no.

[BlueMoonHarlot]

Blue turned to a nearby mirror, contentedly adjusting his tie and mane. “Well, now. I’ll admit I do possess a few narcissistic traits. It’s difficult not to, with my abilities. But I will ask you to bear in mind certain mitigating circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“On me, they look good.”

good lord, sent me cackling

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

11038560
I mean, is it really narcissism if one fully admits to it?