Burdens
“Will there be anything else, sir?” The next night saw an essential repeat of the previous night. Connie had been specifically requested to bring up Blueblood's dinner. And she had found it a strange experience, under the prince's oddly intense gaze.
The unicorn gave no comment, until Connie was almost out the door. “Yes.”
“Sir?”
“There will be one more thing.” Using his magic he levitated up a carrot, pressing it to Connie's chest.
“S-sir?” The jenny took it in her hoof, looking down on it with a sudden fear.
“I want you to eat this carrot.”
A moment of heavy silence passed between the two of the, Blueblood rigid and stern, Connie trembling slightly, still looking at the root vegetable. “You wish me to... what, sir?”
“I want for you to eat this carrot. Right now.” There was an odd air about Blueblood as he commanded it, some trace of something that wanted to break through his stony mask. Whatever it may have been, it never managed to break through.
“Y-yes, sir. As you want, sir.” With a slight bit of trepidation Connie lifted the orange vegetable to her mouth and crunched on it. She chewed slowly, and swallowed with some hesitation. It took a good amount of time to consume the whole thing, the green ends finally being eaten and swallowed. “Is that... all, sir?”
“Yes. You may go now.” With that Blueblood turned away.
“Enjoy your dinner...” The door shut firmly, as it had previously. “Sir...” Connie turned to take the cart away, noting some sound from beyond the heavy door. She tried not to think about it. It was just the price of dealing with Blueblood. At least it would not be so strange all the time.
She was spared a second strange situation the next night, and the night after as well. She did not see Blueblood at all in that time. He had seemingly gotten the message about the palace grapevine and was intentionally dodging a potential steel-edged tongue-lashing from his great-aunt. He appeared at meals at the regular time, typically alone, and ordered up dinner without special instructions.
The fourth night saw a return of the special request for his server. Connie once more found herself facing down the heavy door to the private suite. The passage of time had dulled the strangeness to a passing oddity. Just a strange story to relate to someone at a later date to explain the quirkiness of the job. She tapped on the door only once, having learned her lesson the first night. “Dinner service, sir.”
The door flew open after that first knock, and Blueblood stepped aside to let the cart through. “Lay out the trays swiftly.”
“As you want, sir.” Connie was swift and efficient, setting out and uncovering the trays, stacking the covers back on the cart and wheeling it away. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Yes.” There were no heavy moments of tension or building suspense. He merely peeled several leaves off of a cabbage and presented them. “Eat these cabbage leaves.”
“As... you want, sir.” The consumption was less halting and hesitant; Connie had missed the staff dinner and was feeling slightly peckish. As unusual as the two requests had been, they had the benefit of being tasty, and as she had been thinking earlier, they would make for great stories down the line. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No. You may go now.” Again, there was some sound from behind the door. But it was none of Connie's business. Mysteries and curiosities. And fairly harmless.
She got a bit of rest again, lasting five days. The time between requests was actually somehow distressing. It wasn't so bad, eating vegetables. Sure, he had commented on her ears, a very sore spot for her, but he was an abrasive boor to everyone. She wasn't singled out for species-based scorn or ridicule; she was just another in the long line of folk slighted by Blueblood. In a very odd way it put him above some of the nastier hereditary peers, though fewer and fewer as Luna discovered them and put her personal verbal punctuation mark on the impropriety of their actions and words.
Connie wasn't certain what she was to eat the next time she went up, she only hoped it wasn't too substantial. She had had a big dinner and couldn't handle much. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“Yes.” Blueblood levitated over two spring-activated wooden clothespins, of the sort the laundry used for hanging attire, as opposed to the larger rigid ones used to secure heavier articles. “Bring your head down a bit.”
“Sir? Are those... from the laundry, sir?” They were lacquered in the particular shade of the royal laundry, and even had the engraving the others had.
“How dare you?! Are you accusing me of thievery from the royal laundry?!” Blueblood's expression was not completely enraged. It was more... piqued.
“No, sir! I would never, sir. I am sorry, sir. They only reminded me of those, sir.” Connie dipped her head, mind racing. That was new.
“Very well. I will ignore this impudence and forgive you completely. These do not close well, I believe they are broken.” The two wooden objects were maneuvered to the tips of Connie's ears, opened and then clipped to the ends, though somewhat loosely. “You may go now. Dispose of them when and where you choose.”
“As you want, sir.” Connie pushed the cart out of the room and picked the clothespins off of her ears as soon as the door was shut. No strange meal, but a strange encounter. As he had said, they were slightly broken, and did not clip down all that hard. They barely exerted any pressure at all. But just the image of it... very odd.
“He clipped clothespins to your ears? I think you got off easy.” Connie relaxed in one of the steam rooms made available to palace workers of all statuses. She was there with Rose Topaz, a small, dusty pink Diamond Dog; and Fireclay, an umber earth pony with a cinnamon mane, who was speaking, “There are worse places to be pinched, or so I've read.”
“They didn't really... pinch. I mean, he told the truth, they were kind of broken. Probably something the laundry were going to toss out anyway. It was just... weird.” Connie scooped a ladle full of water over the hot rocks to release a cloud of steam.
“But didn't you say he also asked you to eat a carrot?” Fireclay stroked her chin and squinted one eye. “Now... when you say he made you 'eat' a carrot you mean that he had you chew it up and swallow it or..?”
“Oh! Oh! Yes! It was eating it, like, as a food. The next time it was cabbage leaves. I think it was, you know...” Connie indicated her long, slightly steam-drooped ears.
“Ears like fluffy bunny, yes?” Rose Topaz gave a typical Diamond Dog giant smile, as well as a thumbs up.
Connie looked over at Rose and rolled her eyes. It wasn't worth the effort. “Yes. That was why. As I understand it he is... just like that. I don't think he can help it. But really, what do I do? Do I tell someone? It's not that bad...”
“It sounds a little... well, let's get it out there, a little sexually harass-y. Everyone knows Blueblood gets it on when he can, and can buy any mare he wants.” Fireclay reached over and patted Connie on the back. “It might not hurt to talk to someone like the overseer or even Lime Sherbert. I hear she gets things done.”
“In Diamond Dog colony mines, females treated with respect. Work with males. Work hard. Not treated bad. Have good system. If Dog not respect, tell supervisor. Given talking to.”
“How very enlightened. I often forget that Diamond Dogs are quite advanced socially, within their own communities. But was about... well, what if it becomes more serious? What if they don't stop?” Connie looked over curiously.
“Oh, process for that too. If Dog not stop, need to kick in gem pouch! Not bother anymore!” Rose Topaz gave a high, raspy laugh, joined in it by Fireclay. Connie gave a half-hearted chuckle but merely poured more water onto the rocks to hide herself in the steam.
“Here.” A few days later, Blueblood passed over a selection of silk ribbons, thin ones with a bit of shimmer. “Wrap your ears up. Completely. And together, not individually.”
“May I... not, sir?” Connie dipped her head, and she tried to pass back the ribbons. “I mean no disrespect to you, sir. I am very busy and should not dally like this, sir.”
“I am giving you permission. I, prince Blueblood, grant you dispensation to dally. Now do this.” Blueblood pressed the ribbons firmly into Connie's hoof.
“Of course, sir. As you want, sir.” Connie began by tying a red ribbon to the base of her right ear, and a pink one to the base of her left. She then started winding them around and around both ears. It was not difficult, as there was plenty of material. She didn't even have to squeeze her ears together to get good coverage. But even with plenty, she still felt it was an unspoken portion of the request to use all that she had. So another pink ribbon was wound around her ears, then another red one, and finally one that broke the color scheme, being a bright blue. “Does this suffice, sir?”
“You may go now.” Blueblood shut the door firmly, leaving Connie oddly festooned and more confused than ever. No one in the kitchen had reported anything when they served Blueblood; all of them unanimously spoke of his coldness and silence, not of odd proclivities.
Connie was beginning to come face-to-face with the idea that it was not just Blueblood's well-known arrogance and general inability to relate to others in a mature and even manner. She was being singled out and made to do odd things. There was nothing overtly... anything about them. But the last two being focused on her ears seemed significant somehow. She had always been teased over them. He must have known it...
No. Blueblood did not seem the type to actually care to learn about anyone, least of all a lowly scullery maid. He would not have made an effort to pick out her emotional weaknesses. The answer was likely far simpler. His focus had simply shifted to her as a momentary bit of puckishness. He would assert his status and make her do these things while he soberly looked on and knew his power had done it. After it ceased to be amusing he would leave her alone.
There came a strange calm as she untied the ribbons from her ears and placed them in the pocket of her apron. She was destined to be focused-upon for a time and then forgotten. That would not normally be a comfortable sensation, but given the nature of the attention it was the best possible solution. It could be borne. No need to involve others in the matter.
“Do hold still. I do not want you to throw off my aim.” Five nights later Connie was standing outside the door with the delivery cart while Blueblood threw rings of leaves around her ears, as if he was playing a game of plant-based horseshoes. In total, he managed to ring four of the circles of greenery around each of her ears.
“Yes... sir...” She was beginning to see why other servants spoke of Blueblood with such venom. Though they usually spoke of his haughty dismissal, curt and egotistical trumpeting of his status or his histrionic hissy fits over minor mistakes. “My apologies, sir. Have you finished, sir?”
“Yes, yes. Go then, go.” Blueblood shut the door with a flash of magical power.
Connie slowly wheeled the cart to one of the nearby speaking tubes that led down to the kitchen. “Is there anyone listening to the tubes?”
“Connie?” The kitchen overseer's voice came up, tinny and small. “Are you finished with that Blueblood run?”
“Yea... listen, I'm leaving the cart by this tube, I've got something I need to do. Can you send someone up to get this thing?”
“Sure.” Even through the tube a hesitating heaviness could be felt. “Did... something happen?”
“Yes. But nothing like what you're imagining. Just let me put it this way, Blueblood is strange. But not a Marquise Morning Star. So, thanks.” Connie placed the tube back into its place and made her way along the corridors of the upper palace, towards the quarters given to the chamber maids of the upper portions.
She arrived at one of the doors and gingerly knocked on the wooden door. After a moment a face appeared as the door opened. Stormy gray eyes looked on Connie, set in a handsome stallion face, white in color with a dark black buzz-cut mane above. “Yes? How may I help you?”
“Are you Destrier Dark Skies, husband of Lime Sherbert?”
“Indeed I am. Given your attire and... head... decorations... I'm guessing you're a... garden maid?” Dark tilted his head a bit and rubbed his cheek with a fetlock. “Yea, I've got nothing.”
Connie crossed her eyes to look up at her festooning foliage and clicked her tongue. “Is your wife in?”
“She is. Do you need to see her for some maid business?” Dark opened the door just a bit wider, and stood slightly off to the side.
Connie actually gave it a thought. On further refection it seemed rather like a tempest in a teapot, or perhaps more akin to using a lighthouse to read a book in the dark. Lime was rather the Banishment Option, as it was said. All the palace maids and stewards knew it was true. She didn't need a heavy enforcer. “No... no, that's alright, Destrier. In fact, forget I was here. Never mind.” With that, Connie turned and trotted away.
“Who's there, honey?” Lime poked her own head out of the open door after Connie had passed around a corner.
“Well... a maid. From the garden or grounds I guess. She was a jenny with some rings of leaves over her ears. Asked if you were in then told me to forget it.”
“A jenny, eh? Gray, black mane? Really, really big ears?”
“That's the one. She seemed really into it when she arrived but thought about it and then took off. Do you know her?”
“Not by name. Or by reputation necessarily. But I know the kitchen staff in general since I cut off some problems. Or thought I had. She may not want to talk, but I hear her loud and clear.” Lime looked sternly down the hall, then pulled her head back into the room. “Meanwhile, get your zucchini back over here. I wanna marinate that thing...”
“Yes dear!” The door shut with a resounding thud, which was followed by the muffled rattle and click of several locks and bolts being closed.
Stats
Page generated in 0.019 seconds
Total duration
939 users online
364,789 hits today, 2,314,256 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Blueblood is a weirdo. Connie should complain.
1898428
Even now you can't post comments? I know for a bit after the redesign it was busted, but now it works fine.
1898623
The site runs so slowly on my phone it's barely worth the effort to check to see if I can. Maybe I can post mobile comments, maybe I can't. I'll find out in a few days I guess.
Also, there are only four tags: Romance, Comedy, Random, Slice of Life. I don't know why yours says Adventure. It shouldn't.
1898524
She has... her own ways. Being a donkey gives her a slightly different perspective on things.
1898722
But Blueblood comes off as such a slimy good for nothing, it's creepy.
1898834
You'll see
1898716
It doesn't now, but when you posted it, all it had was adventure.
Also, was the last time you checked right before Christmas to now? Knighty's dickish snow was killing my phone, but as soon as I turned it off it was fine.
Oh, process for that to. too. Side note, Rose is awesome like all the other Dogs so far.
It had been far too long without your vegetable innuendos.
Man, Blueblood is really creepy. I think I know where you are going, he's so emotionally immature, he is essentially a child on the playground, tossing dirt at a girl.
1902251
It's the way they do the buttons now. How they don't appear until you mouseover them. But you can't mouseover on a phone so I'm screwed. AND this site is slow ashell on a 3G connection. Even on wifi it gobbles my phone's clockcycles like popcorn.
1932297
To get the quote, edit, etc buttons, you just have to poke at the comment once or twice and they'll appear. I'm with you on the slowness, but it's been like that since the first huge revamp last year for me so I'm used to it.
1902657
Hey, no giving away the plot!
I kid, the next chapter was going to show that.
But yea. I wanted folks to be misdirected by the usual image of Blueblood as some kind of power-abusing sex pervert so they would never realize that he's essentially a five-year-old boy putting a slug in a girl's hair. Also, the things he does and uses are very specific, and significant, beyond any bunny imagery.
1932329
I blame the tags, how can you not draw that conclusion with a romance tag?
1936273
I know. It gives the game away. But I follow the ules, and all tags must eb accurate.
What the....