Questions
Prince Blueblood started explaining himself to Lime Sherbert the moment he was caught after his disastrous attempt to to confess his feelings for Connie. He continued his desperate explanations to the self-righteous unicorn mare and to his great-aunt Luna, growing plaintive and contrite, in a vulnerable, mewling fashion that neither had ever seen before. His tears were not crocodile drops and his whimpers were hardly rehearsed. He was genuinely sorry about any misunderstanding, and looked to be punishing himself, before Luna could get a crack at him.
“Aye, aye, have done, have done, great-nephew!” Luna called out in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Let us not hear thy wails and lamentations any longer. Blood thou art not but thou art princely born all the same. Thou hast not been of a character like as to one, but thou hast always used thy station as means of appearing so. Dry thine eyes and stiffen thy lip! Shew not a countenance of fear when thou shalt receive thy necessary excoriation! Shew thyself in some manner worthy of the title 'Prince' and indeed of 'Pony.' Have we encountered scoundrels that bore the chastisement better. Explain thyself and all the charges brought by mine august maid then shall we note thy doom, and of what volume it may take.”
Blueblood took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and get some air back into him after all that incoherent explaining. “Y-yes great-auntie. Well... I respect Mrs. Sherbert as your eyes and ears in the palace and know she thinks she saw something bad. But it was not like that!”
“Are you saying that I'm lying? Or was I wrong about you, in your fancy robe and fez, grabbing that poor jenny?” Lime cut in quickly and poked Blueblood right on one silk lapel.
“Well, you see there was some... and there were...”
“Didst thou do as was claimed in all thy pickthank raiment and flattering words? Prevaricate not with us! Recall we art thy judge, and shall thou not bear falsehoods unto us!”
“I mean... when she tried to back out of the room I couldn't let her just slip away so I did grab her up...”
“Scalawag! Miscreaunt! Discordian! Monster!” Luna's words struck Blueblood square on, tossing him to the floor and forcing him along. “Thou hast proven thou hast not sense as resides in blindworm or mushroom! To grasp an innocent scullery maid to slake thine intemperate lusts!”
“No great-auntie! No! It was not like that!” Blueblood struggled to his side and fought to get back to his hooves. “I wanted to tell her I liked her! She didn't understand! She thought I was lying to her!”
“I think you're lying right now. My husband saw her at my door. She was there with rings of vegetation over her ears. Those ears are the source of her sadness.”
“They were laurel wreaths! I was sure she would find them delicious. She enjoyed the carrot and cabbage I gave her.”
“Laurel wreaths?” Luna looked disbelievingly down on her pseudo-nephew, bringing her head in close. “Thou didst honor her ears in such a fashion, to crown her brows with laurels?”
“My husband never mentioned laurels. He just told me there were some greens on her ears. And before I heard... hey!” Lime turned from her doubtful expression and poked at Blueblood's chest again. “I started in on this because I was informed that you were down in the kitchen not just being your usual nuisance self, but actually forcing that poor jenny to do her work over and over again until she was up to your exacting standards! You were making a mockery of her over and over. And I heard, you requested her to deliver your meals, always delaying her there with you. What were you doing?”
Luna picked up on this new thread of accusation and unleashed another torrent of her powerful voice. “Hast thou taken leave of thy very senses?! Interfering with our servitors?! Thou hast spoken ill against thyself 'afore thou hast begun! We may know thy guilt from this, it doth shew in thine intent!”
“No!” Blueblood actually started breaking down again, blue eyes large and wavering as he tried to obey his great-aunt's demand that he be strong. “No, you don't understand... I can't... I couldn't... I was weak. And I couldn't say it...”
“Your majesty...” Lime looked to the pathetic, sniveling form of Blueblood and suddenly felt a genuine stab of pity deep in her stomach. “Wait... when I was a young filly there was a young colt name Dark Skies. He really liked me. Really, really liked me. A lot. We all know what became of that.” Both she and Luna shared a laugh over that before Lime cleared her throat. “When we were five he told me that he liked me the only way little colts know how. He came up to me at recess and put a slug in my hair. Then I hit him. I think... I think the prince isn't a monster. He's just a dumb kid who has a crush on a pretty jenny.”
Luna's gaze softened considerably. She came in close to Blueblood's face, her voice down to the gentle, soothing tones of a caretaker speaking to a child. “Hast thou, our lost great-nephew, cast thine questing eye 'pon this quivering jenny for thine improper usage as the tits of tenpence thou hast fee'd i'the past... or conceivest thou some more noble prospect in this attention thou hast granted?”
“Great-auntie...” Blueblood's voice was soft as well, a fully-chastised tone. “I didn't mean it. I didn't want her to think that about me. I couldn't say it. I just gave her nice things... I didn't mean to hurt Connie...”
“You... know her name?” Lime came up again, tilting her head in disbelief. “You actually know the name of a scullery maid that you had never seen before?”
“I asked of the overseer. I needed to know.” The humbled prince looked to the mares around him. He was above Lime, yet he wasn't. He was painfully aware of how much her informal status made her superior to him. It may have been galling but that did not make it any less real. And his great-aunt was the source of his power and status, as much as Celestia was. “Am I... still in trouble?” Temporal power, and the information network of servants. He was crushed.
Luna waved a hoof dismissively and turned away. “Begone thou young and inoffensive scapegrace. Begone to thine own domain and think well how thou shalt court this maid. In all the senses thou shalt know it. Be thou no longer a recreant in these matters. No more shall we trouble thee, nor shall we aid thee. Thou art not a mere stripling, thou art grown. And our maid shall not accuse thee, lest there be cause.”
“Yes, your majesty. I'll leave him to his own endeavors.” Lime looked to Blueblood and shook her head. “Slugs in the hair only work up to a certain age. After that you need a better strategy. I'll be watching, Prince. But you're on your own.”
Blueblood gave a humble nod and scraped his hooves on the floor. “I understand. Thank you for understanding great-auntie. Mrs. Sherbert I promise that I will not hurt Connie. I can't.” He turned around and slowly trotted out of the room.
Luna watched the thick stallion go, then turned a firm gaze on Lime. “And thou, mine august maid, mine eyes and ears through the palace and receptacle of my trust... my TRUST!” She quickly whipped into the Royal Canterlot Voice and let Lime have a taste, “How canst thou perform such an action in such an intemp'rate fashion?! Hast thou no restraint?!” She went back to a normal volume afterward, tapping the ground lightly. “But indeed, I may not chastise thee too harshly. Thine intent was for the good of this jenny. Indeed, my great-nephew hath much to speak against him, that I may believe such tales. 'Twas not too great a strain to believe in such. So fortunate we have such males of whom we may be proud. Aubergine and zucchini.”
Lime adjusted her attire and mane after the shout and gave a good nod to the comment. “Indeed, your majesty. Our lovers really are something, aren't they? My husband is such a softie of a sweetheart. And B- I mean, and your 'unknown love', how is he in that regard?”
Luna sighed softly and slowly began to pace. “As ever, he is an unspleened dove, gentle and mild beneath my touch, howe'er he may act in service of the state. He doth ever prove the strength of his back, according to his inches, in all manners.” She came to rest at the window, looking out of the smoked glass upon Canterlot at evening. “It is said the interval betwixt coney-catcher and intelligencer be object of devotion. The coney-catcher doth act for fee, the intelligencer for flag. But this stallion doth serve for me.”
“What does that make him, your majesty? If conponies are in it for the money and spies for the flag, what of him?”
“What of him? A husband but lacking a ring.” Luna laughed beautifully and turned from the window. “Would I could compass his best parts in silver...”
Lime cut in sharply, “I've heard of those rings. They sell them at The Naughty Toy Box. All metals and styles, even.”
Luna broke into a tremendous, power-backed guffaw, striking the ground repeatedly with her hoof, “Aye, aye, Dame Sauce! Fie! Ring thine own husband's cod if need be! He hath no need of such artifice in support! He doth rise and stand on his own strength!”
Lime clicked her tongue and whistled softly. “More than I needed to know, your majesty. I am properly sorry for bringing that up at all. It's early in the evening. Want me to send a messenger and arrange some tea with Dame Fleur?”
Luna nodded grandly. “Aye. Thou speakest good sooth, Dame Lime.”
Connie avoided all of the other maids, especially Fireclay, who had been somewhat right. She simply slipped into her private cell in the maid's quarters and shut herself in. She threw herself on the bed and cried. What an unmitigated disaster.
It had not come out like the fears she had felt. Blueblood hadn't been a slavering brute, like one of the nasty guys in a Harlequine novel ultimately defeated by the warrior mare or honorable noblestallion. He had become rather... weird towards the end. Cruel but not so cruel.
Her ears... he had talked about her ears! Even an unfeeling clod like Blueblood could guess that they were a sensitive spot! He had been toying with them for weeks! Rabbit food, broken clothespins, ribbons, griffin feathers, greenery circles. He knew. He couldn't not know. He gave every indication. Yet he persisted. He said it. He mentioned her ears! And her name.
“My name...” She whispered into her pillow. He knew her name. He had said some surprisingly kind things in the midst of his odd rambling. A quick mind, he had said. Hidden depths. And he had even complained about being called 'sir.' He had wanted her to stop calling him 'sir.' To end his due and usually well-savored deference. He asked it of her, some maid. A maid on whom he had focused all his enigmatic and puckish energy.
A trick. Some new kind of trick to bring down her guard for some strange purpose. He was a real mystery, perhaps even more than he had been when he had simply been a strange and one-dimensional caricature used as a quick and easy punchline by the servants.
He had said there was more to himself. It was likely true. She could tell. Just the way he had complimented the quick mind behind her obsequiousness. He had had access to the finest education in the Principality, and unlike most nobles had seemingly used it to the fullest. He was not a buffoon. A blithering, spastic clown, perhaps. But surely not an idiot. Smart but not wise.
No social IQ, as they called it. His reputation spoke for itself. The incident at the Gala spoke for itself. And the whispers about being publicly humiliated by some visiting constable and being forced to pay for something he broke with much whining and complaining. He had no idea how life outside his nobility worked. It didn't make him look very good and contributed to that aura of idiocy that followed him around.
Perhaps everything had been an act. That he knew exactly what he was doing, start to finish. He had some nefarious, far-off goal in mind that required that he appear to be a harmless idiot. He could be an evil genius. His carefully-constructed machinations could have wide-ranging repercussions if he unleashed a truly surprising surprise attack on the principality...
“Really, Connie? A cheap intrigue movie? You need to stop hanging around with Fireclay.” She really was flailing down into a strange new world. With her preconceptions about Blueblood shattered and his words being very... confusing, she couldn't tell what was real and what was her imagination. Anything could be possible with that kind of sea change in the way the world worked.
She shook her head on the pillow and groaned lightly. She wasn't doing herself any favors. She would be better served with a good night's sleep, a good breakfast and some time just to forget it. If she met him again and he said anything she would be happy to pull the Banishment Option lever and set Princess Luna upon him in an instant. In payment for mentioning her ears.
She slowly closed her eyes and went to sleep with one, unbidden thought. 'All told... he's quite a well-built pony. I guess he's handsome...'
The next day was like waking up from an odd dream. Not nightmare, not fantasy, but the sort that flowed through the uncomfortable spaces between with odd delights and freakish encounters, neither too far on either side of the spectrum. She was out of that world and back into the one she knew. She rose, she ate breakfast in her retiring and anonymous way, and she went about her business in the kitchen.
She felt a certain meditative calm as the routine closed in around her like a security blanket. Scrubbing large cauldrons, washing dishes, preparing ingredients for later use, sweeping up minor debris. It was so beautifully familiar and so very regular.
Midway through the day a creeping sensation of oddity came to her mind. All the things she was doing were the usual working fare, but something about them seemed wrong. It hit her when she was sweeping up some pastry crumbs she had not noticed earlier. Her sweeping technique, such as it was, was not the natural one she had used all her life. It was the carefully modified one she had refined and distilled from Blueblood's critiques.
Thinking back on her day, all the cleaning she had done had involved the ways that Blueblood had molded through nods and shakes of his head. While that was strange enough to consider, the other part to it was that the refined techniques were actually very efficient and effective. Blueblood had not just been scowling for his own amusement. He had insight into the performance of menial tasks and knew how to make them work.
The world cracked again, as yet another facet of her presumptions vanished. He surely had never worked a day in his life, not in that rarified atmosphere. But would he have ever deigned to study something as lowly as methods of cleaning?
The cozy day of casual cleaning and normalcy dissolved into thinking about that rude and accursed unicorn. It was eminently unfair. His image and teachings burning in her brain while she toiled away and that arrogant pony was probably in his tower room lounging around, maybe with some cheap hussy mare, not sparing her a fraction of a thought, not even an unkind one.
At that moment, Blueblood's thoughts were wholly consumed by Connie. Every last consideration that sizzled through his brain had some trace of the hauntingly-beautiful jenny. It was not that he could not have her; she had not outright rejected him completely. But his poor social skills had ruined his perfect chance to try and make her see he was attracted. He had twitched right at the shield point, as they sometimes said in jousting.
He had a deep, deep hole to pull himself out of. If he made another mistake he'd probably send her off to Lime. And though Lime had promised to not hinder him, she would need to do something. Connie had already been there, even if she hadn't said anything.
She would not trust him to approach her. She would drop those big, beautiful ears, look at him with teary eyes and beg him to leave her alone. Or worse, she would show her fury and toss tart words towards him, maybe even some physical violence. She would have the right. She would be cleared of wrongdoing by the trail of evidence. He had not exactly been overtly kind to her, tainting every interaction and providing full justification for violently rebuking him.
He wouldn't be able to order her to do anything. If she was told to deliver his food she could pawn off the assignment on somepony else or simply refuse. The overseer would hardly be inclined to complain, and would likely heartily approve. If he came down to see her she would avoid him as well as she could and then be as formally polite as possible, to keep her emotions from her fellow servants. If he sent a proxy of any kind, from a letter to another pony to speak for him, she could just ignore the whole thing.
A grand, romantic gesture would ring hollow, as though he was overcompensating on an apology, and being insincere about the feeling infused in it. No pile of imported Griffin chocolates or succulent collection of Zebra flowers. He couldn't invite her for a stroll through the gardens, nor could he offer her a private box at the opera or theater. It all had the distinct whiff of desperation. Indeed, he was desperate. Tremendously so. But showing that would get him nowhere.
He was interrupted by a knock at his door, almost glad for the distraction. He took a moment to compose himself, checking his mirror to ensure his face took on the proper hard, imposing set. Properly put together, he opened the door wide. There was the jenny he never expected to see. Connie. Looking vaguely upset. She had, it seemed, gotten over her socialized submissiveness, as he always knew she would. That was rather good, actually. “Ahh yes. Yes.. to what do I owe this..?”
Connie cut him off, quickly. She spoke as though afraid she would stop and never start again. “How did you know, sir?”
“E-excuse me?” There were so many possible things that could mean, he could not choose the wrong one. It would insult her and anger her far more than she already was.
“How did you know how I could clean more efficiently, sir? It was no mere personal preference, sir, as it functioned properly. What kind of game is being played with me and do you mean it to hurt so badly, sir?”
Blueblood's breath quickened, his face faltering as he regarded Connie. It was too soon to say, too raw and base to just let it out. “In my youth...” He said, very quietly, nearly a mumble.
“Sir?”
“In my youth my parents did not... have a great capacity to care for me or enjoy my presence. I was sent to a most prestigious private boarding academy for noble ponies. Though stocked with the nobility there were traditions that would not tolerate adulteration. All the younger ponies were expected to clean, under the supervision of the older. Punishments, while necessarily slight, were very real. I was... very indolent in my youth...” He slid a hoof through his blond mane and tried to give a winning smile. “Not like now. But it was very real. However, punishments were as a personal affront to me. But as my demands for special treatment fell on deaf ears, I figured out the ways to perform my duties that did as little work as possible, while satisfying even the most overbearing of older observers. And while I did not remain there very long at all, in the scheme of things, I remembered it all.”
Connie was... stunned. She was silenced by all the information given to her. A full admission about his youth, and a history of menial servitude. Certainly, there was boasting and pride over that prestigious academy and his own nobility but... that was an unusual amount of vulnerability... it must have been a trick! Perhaps it was all true but to say it so openly... “Yes... the techniques were still very effective, sir. I presumed... sir, if I may take my leave?”
Blueblood was no good with reading faces; it was a skill he had never needed to cultivate. But he could just tell that the swirling mix of confused emotions on Connie's face did not speak of an opportune moment for courtship. He waved a hoof, with some care and gave a grand nod. “You may do so. I am glad to have helped.”
Connie winced. There it was. Condescension. An air of superiority. He was back in fine form. “Very good, sir.” With the venomous final word she trotted off again, only glancing back to drop a fast scowl.
The door closed with a soft thump, followed by several more as Blueblood hit his head repeatedly against it. He had said something wrong. He wasn't sure just what it was about his statement but it had not impressed her much. He was back where he had started, in her ill favor. “Maybe you should stick to paid mares...” He said to himself, thumping his head on the door again. “You're not so inelegantly foolish when you don't have to care.”
Connie was back down in the kitchen, attacking her job with a furious energy. Every crumb was Blueblood. Every stain was Blueblood. Every smudge, smear or piece of dirt was him. It really was quite easy to reduce his name and image to pieces of filth and then eradicate him with a cleansing motion. It worked, until the memory returned, that she was using his boarding school techniques to do it. Her grunts of frustration and contemplation of contradictions brought plenty of eyes and whispers but no real comments to her.
It wasn't until a bit later when she finally felt a presence near her. Her head whipped around and she found Fireclay, with a plate of cheesecake and a smile on her face. “Wanna split this and take a break?”
Connie gritted her teeth and considered turning it down, but finally relented with a sigh. “Get another piece. I need a great, big wedge.”
Very soon after the two of them were seated at a table, munching placidly on cheesecake. Fireclay broke the silence first, tapping her fork nervously on the plate. “So... how did it go? Did you need the condom?”
“Oh Fireclay...” Connie rolled her eyes, “It was awful but nothing at all like that. It was more strange and awkward and uncomfortable but nothing untoward. Well... no. Not untoward. Just more standard Blueblood stuff.”
Fireclay nodded slowly and chewed thoughtfully on a bite of cheesecake. “So... what did Lime say?”
“What? Lime? What are you talking about?”
“I know you told me not to, I know. But come on, Connie... it's Blueblood. I ran off and told Lime exactly what happened. She went down there to give Blueblood his due, via Luna's voice.”
“Fireclay! I told you... and then you went and did it. I had no idea. I left long before she arrived. Whatever happened, I have no clue.”
“I've heard things, but all indirect. There was plenty of yelling, but no one knows what was said. It was properly intense. He really got it.”
“Good...” Connie thought to Blueblood's vulnerability. He had looked like himself, and capped his talk with his usual insulting ways. But in the middle... “I guess that takes care of everything.”
“All for the best. After all, he was just in it to have a laugh at your ears. I'll bet you're glad all that's over.”
The drawer of special things in her cell was well-stocked. The beautifully-carved, darkly-stained clothespins; the wonderfully smooth and colorful ribbons; the rare and impressive Bald Eagle Griffin feathers; she even saved the rings of vegetation and found they made the drawer smell absolutely wonderful, probably the intent. Even a delicious carrot and cabbage leaves for her, for no reason at all. She pushed the cheesecake away and rose suddenly. “It's not quite over yet. I need to clear up one thing. Thanks for the break, see you... eventually.”
Connie made her way up through the palace once more. It was no mystery why she was in such good shape, given all her activity of late. She wailed away on Blueblood's door, thumping it firmly and repeatedly. After opening it and expressing proper surprise the Prince asked, “How may I help y-?”
“I will ask you a question. And I wish for an honest answer.”
There were many comments to be made, but the one that finally came out was, “You did not call me 'sir.'”
“You requested that I not. And so I have not. If the distance will be bridged, then let it be so. I ask this in that spirit. Treat me as one close as you wish me to be, and give me the respect of honesty.”
Blueblood gave a small smile and nodded his head. “I will honor your request. Ask the question you want.”
Connie sucked in a deep breath and stood as tall as possible. “The other day, in your rambling statements and confused speech... you mentioned my ears. The source of my pain and my shame. They mean only embarrassment to me... but... you said you loved them. Ribbons, griffin feathers, carved clothespins, food from your own plate... you seemed to mean it. But tell me... tell me truthfully... do you love my ears alone?”
Blueblood's mouth went dry and his throat practically closed. He was confronted by the direct question, asked by Connie, unafraid and demanding the truth. He was not ready, he had no gifts, no way to calm her in case he said something wrong, no escape hatches or plans upon plans... “The ears are a crown for your beauty...” He said quietly. “The laurel wreaths were supposed to say as much. But no... I do not love your ears alone. I...” He couldn't He shouldn't. He had to. “I love you.”
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YES! Woo commence the romance! Can the social barriers be breached? I don't know!
2122634
Oddly enough... the social barriers don't matter to either of them. Blueblood has a simple social starification: Me, then everyone else. If he can admit that anyone makes him weak, they are automatically in his sphere. As for Connie she's so pissed off that there's no such thing as social strata, she just wants answers.
...Honestly, Lime was starting to get a little arrogant. She needed to be yelled at. Yes, she hobknobs with royalty but her attitude was a bit...much. Luna's also a bit incorrect in her assessment; it's not really Blueblood that specifically might pull some dark things of that nature, it's people at that level of nobility who do so. I remember what you implied with Marquise Morning Star in "The Unsuitable".
That's a...really odd setup for a confession. I wonder though, if she will slam the door in his face and move like a bat out of hell in an absolute emotionally confused panic. Sleepless nights then ensue for the both of them until they *awkwardly* begin to talk to each other and reconcile. With more awkwardness.
...You know, a meeting between your Luna and the Dragonborn from Skyrim would be....interesting, especially if Luna learned beforehand exactly what sort of power the Dragonborn had. Her use of the Royal Canterlot Voice would likely be...extremely restrained. Or perhaps she might challenge him, in which case his answer would leave her rather blankly amazed and wondering if he were really a mortal being when he caused the palace to shake with a few simple words.
Loved it, thanks for another great chapter.
He couldn't Missed a period. There might have been more, I'm really tired.
Ah, finally thing are coming to light. Now we must await the response: running away or mental blue screen of death. The poor dears really need a good talk right now.
I appreciate the reproach Lime got there, she needed to be reminded to actually look into the matter and get the alleged victim's side before going to Luna.
2125052
Yes, it's true. And yet... even though it was wrong, Luna was moderated for a reason. Blueblood has that kind of ambiguous reputation, and it's better to be safe than sorry.
2123727
Thank you! I hope you cintinue to enjoy it.
2123187
Starting at the end, I think the Royal Canterlot Voice at full volume might be the equivalent of a three word Unrelenting Force. Though she would be impressed with the many varieties of shout, like Fire Breath or Ice Form and such other things.
Lime isn't arrogant. She is acting at the level of her allowances. I offer you one piece of proof: "The Equestrian Resident." Lime snarked off to Bad Apple his own self, in Princess Luna's bed. Luna is from a time when folks were assigned responsibilities and had broad latitudes. While it's true Blueblood has no history of bad behavior, the rumors are enough to make it more of a "better safe than sorry" situation. Now that they know the truth of course they will be shippers on deck.
This chapter is rather galling. Poor Blue gets shredded because both Luna and Lime are dim enough to believe rumours yet they show little to no guilt over the fact. One small yell and that's the end of it. Lime especially comes across as a very two dimensional character.
You know what, Lime? I really don't like you.
Also: D'awww!