The Date
“How much will you be showing, and how much will you change?” The Palace spa had a very fully-stocked and highly-spoken-of salon. Though the princesses took care of their own cosmetic needs they occasionally enjoyed being tended to, and always wanted their workers to have the best possible. Connie was laying down on a padded couch while a delicate, fey unicorn stallion with a pink coat and bright green mane strode around her.
“I don't want to change too much. This is all I have.” Connie indicated her face, and looked back at her bare body. Light gray, with somewhat-coarse hair, more so than an average pony. Her shining black mane was put up in its usual fluffy ringlets. “He wants... me. And I plan to wear my maid attire.”
“Oh honey, I know it. My stallion just loves it when I look like me, but it never hurts to add a little style, right? I'll do what I can. I know exactly what you're going for. Lime Sherbert does the exact same thing. I've gotten quite good at making a maid outfit look good.”
“Thanks. I've done some dating before and a lot of home styling stuff. I doubt they made the dates fail but... I'd like for this one to go right.”
“You just leave it to me. I've been doing this for a while. Blueblood will not be able to keep his hooves off of you, which will be a change from the usual. Now the real question, would you like me to minimize your ears, or glorify them?”
Connie was stricken into silence. She tried to ignore them. Then she tried to figure out what they meant. Now... she self-consciously stroked them, remembering the feel of Blueblood's delicate touch caressing them, his hoof gentle and adoring. “Make them glorious. I want... griffin feathers, carved wooden baubles, silk and laurels.”
“Honey, he will fall down to his knees and kiss your hooves your ears will be so beautiful.” The unicorn sifted through his tools and accessories, humming softly. “I may need to get some supplies...”
“Can you wait? I have everything you'll need.”
“This is for you, and you got Blueblood to act like a decent stallion. For you, honey, I'd wait for hours.” The stallion winked, then checked the clock, “But you haven't got hours. Be quick, you wanna be on time. Reservations are unforgiving.”
“I'll be quick!” Connie leaped off of the table and dashed out of the private salon room.
“This is a... strange situation, to say the least.” Blueblood looked in the mirror, watching as his golden mane was slowly brushed and occasionally spritzed with some kind of conditioning and holding spray. “Certainly, I have long been tended to by servants but they were under my orders doing as I told them to my style.”
“I don't want to change you too much, after all, Connie fell for you somehow. But when it comes to you a change couldn't possibly be all bad.” Lime Sherbert laughed pleasantly, using her magic to manipulate the tools she was bringing to bear against Blueblood. “Of course, there's not too much to do. For once your previous vanity has served you well.”
“I take that as a compliment. It was very nice of great-auntie Luna to let you do this.” Blueblood gave a small smile and a deep chuckle.
“Are you kidding? She insisted I do this. For some strange, obscure reason she didn't quite trust you to manage on your own.” Lime laughed in return and gave Blueblood a slicked-back manestyle. “How do you like this? Her majesty is quite a fan.”
Blueblood turned his head side to side, watching his golden hair shine in smooth rows. “It does have some measure of charm. Something about it looks both like a scoundrel yet also recalls a debonair bearing. I am certain some ponies could pull this off but I know where my talents lie. Perhaps it should be back to the usual, yes?”
“This time, I think you may be correct. Wow... I was just telling Connie I'm saying a lot of things I never said I would say lately.” Lime readjusted the mane back into the semi-flat, flipped-across-the-neck look it had been. But as a last touch she took the front and gave it a twist, leaving a slight curl of golden hair around the base of Blueblood's horn. “There. I think that adds a little something.”
Blueblood contemplated the curl of hair, giving his usual pretty-colt smile and a pop of his brows. “Yes, that is the charming and perfect look I wanted.”
“Dark says the same thing when I do styling for him. We get invited to a surprising number of formal engagements. And it is hard work fixing a guard's mane to look presentable. I usually give him a Zebra style and he's a hit. But you don't have the bearing for that.”
“No, not at all. I leave that to the zebras themselves. They have the unique capability to wear the styles which they do.” Blueblood ran a hoof slowly along the curl of hair around his horn. “Are we ready to face all those eyes?”
“You'd better be. No matter how nervous she might be she's holding you to this. Back out and she'll probably strangle you to death with her ears. I am only kind of kidding.”
Blueblood let out a laugh that was too loud, the draining of his nervous energy. “You are correct. She has her preferences. As do I. They may be different but we understand one another well. I never thought I would find anypony I could understand who would understand me.”
“You didn't. You found somedonkey that understands you. I think that's why. She's not just another face in the crowd. She's totally unique. Her ears made her prickly and you poked at her. She gave you what you deserved all with the right moves, using her servant's posture when needed then her real fire when you let her.”
“She even told me I was a bad kisser.” Blueblood touched his lips and smiled. “That's the honesty I need.”
“Bad kissing is at least fixable. I'd imagine you'll get plenty of practice tonight.” Lime popped her brows in the mirror and grinned.
“Not likely. Not because we'll be in the spotlight, but because I have the feeling great-auntie Luna will quiz me on the play when I get back. If I don't answer correctly she will know what I was doing. I am not certain, however, if that is what she wants or not.”
“Her majesty is inscrutable. She is the night, misty, dark and obscured. Sub rosa, occult, as she is fond of saying. You can't know what she wants unless you are meant to. So just guess. You'll probably be right. She probably wants you to do both somehow.”
“It would hardly surprise me. Well... I suppose that is all I may do. I will meet the carriage at the front.” Blueblood rose to his hooves and heaved a sigh. “I have been with females. In all my paranoia to avoid progeny and all my desperation to appear grand... none have ever made me as afraid as Connie does.”
“Her opinion matters. She can make you feel weak and helpless,” Lime noted, setting down the spray and brush, walking out of Blueblood's room and into the living room. “Say hello to my uncles. And don't mind the snickers. They find this as amusing as I do, and they work for Celestia. They can be cheeky.”
“Do not worry. I am quite used to folk talking behind my back. I can bear it.”
“You know, I never thought I would say this, but suddenly white stallions don't do much for me.” Golden Stare spoke with great mirth, hiding a snicker behind a hoof. Rosy stood straight and tall beside him, trying to remain unfazed.
“H-honey, is that wise? We should not speak to the prince in such a fashion. He might splutter at us and storm off in a huff.” Rosy Cranberry suddenly showed his trembling to be from holding in a laugh rather than from fear.
Blueblood was used to folk speaking behind his back. But with the status afforded to the two guards at the front gate they were not very restrained. But their comments were not withering or painful, because he could just feel they were in actual jest. “A good joke, Miles,” Blueblood said, affecting his haughty tone, “But all it will do is make me disinclined to offer you the might of my own perfect form. Wither in envy as I remove this rippling, muscular perfection from your potential pleasure.”
Rosy's face practically turned red as his famous blush sprang up with furious heat and force, his husband letting loose a tremendous and echoing laugh that suited his beefy frame. “Oh yes! Oh honey he got you good! That was pitch perfect!” After recovering himself he threw a salute to the unicorn. “Good show, Prince.”
“It is in my nature to be quick-witted, Cavalier. And fear not, I only have an eye towards mares. However your husband may lust I will never give in.” Blueblood laughed softly and gave the two a sincere smile.
“H-hey!” Rosy buried his face in Golden's thick neck and rubbed softly. “I'm all for him, and only him.”
“I know the feeling. If she will have me I will try to be that stallion for Connie...” Blueblood began to pace, his mirth being replaced with nervousness. “It seems impossible, doesn't it? Is it wrong to say that without having gone on a date?”
“Given the rumors of how long you toyed with one another it would seem strange if you didn't say that,” Rosy noted, still with his face against Golden's neck.
“My husband is quite right. Despite all rumors and ridiculous conspiracies you must be a pony like any other, and surely influenced most by love.”
Blueblood nodded his head and checked the watch he had donned just for the occasion. Silver band with a gold face. “The hour approaches. Early evening reservations, with a private booth. And great-auntie Celestia's private box at Urbi et Orbi. I have heard the play tonight does not have a listed start time. It will begin at the moment we take our seats and indicate it should begin. Though often the basis for jokes, I can say I have never had that much power before.”
In the space of the silence that followed Lime Sherbert came out the door and whispered into her uncle Golden's ear. He nodded slowly at her words and cleared his throat. “Stand, Pila Rectus!” He clopped his hoof sharply, both guards suddenly shooting up tall and straight. “Wings out!” Both extended one wing, crossing them in front of the entrance. After a moment of stiff formality Golden announced, “Presenting scullery maid Connie!” The two guards let their wings drop to reveal Connie.
She was still her usual light gray, and still clad in her cloth shoes and black-and-white maid attire. But her mane had been dropped, hanging down in tight rings that framed her face. Makeup had been subtly applied, shadow over her eyes, black liner and mascara enhancing their size and brightness. The most astounding thing, however, was her ears. The spring portion of the clothespins had been removed, and they had been made into dangling pendants, the four pieces clipped, by twos, near the middle of each ear, one inside, one outside. Bright silk ribbons were attached to the bases, sliding down the back of her head in a rainbow cascade. Wrapped around each ear were fragrant strands of laurel, while at the tips were securely attached a few bald eagle griffin feathers, identifiable to those in the know. She was looking down, not quite shy, but more uncertain. “Well then... here I am...”
Blueblood was stunned, jaw hanging open, eyes wide. His focus was not on the ears necessarily, but drifted over the whole glorious form. When he finally regained control of his faculties, he managed to stammer out, “I... I... I can't... oh my...”
“I think that means he likes the look,” Lime said with a laugh, helping Connie stroll out to the carriage that was sitting in the courtyard before the palace. Attached to it was another Celestian guard, his slightly-more-ornate barding identifying him as a Destrier. “Thanks for volunteering to pull them, honey.”
Destrier Dark Skies smiled and nodded to his wife, standing up tall and proud. “It's my pleasure, honey. It's my honor, really! Celestia herself asked me to do this. I used to envy those fellows that brought Twilight to Ponyville and the two that escorted her majesty and her pet. To serve with this kind of distinction... let me just say I feel very like, 'I'm going to give it to you' tonight.”
“Dark!” Lime screeched, smacking her husband on the armored flanks with a dusting cloth pulled from her attire, “My uncles are standing right over there, not to mention Connie and Prince Blueblood! Seriously?”
“So... is that a no?” The destrier asked.
“Well, of course not. It's going to happen. But have some tact.” Lime sniffed and tucked her cloth away again. “Now you know the route, right?”
“Straight to Ume to Ringo, wait for them to come out, on to Urbi et Orbi, then straight back after they come out. No motels, no hotels, no dark alleys. Unless they really, really ask. That was, uh, Princess Luna that said that. Her majesty got a most... interesting look when she said that.” Dark grinned nervously and chuckled a bit.
“Her majesty can be... a bawd when she tries. But she means well. Anyhow,” Lime kissed her husband on the cheek then opened the door of the closed carriage with her magic, “Time to go.”
Blueblood cleared his throat and stepped around behind Connie, looking tall and gallant. “After you. Though a princely honor is to head any procession, the gentlecoltly thing to do is to allow you to enter first.”
Connie walked along to the carriage, silent and blushing, looking around as though seeking laughing friends ready to show it was all a joke. “Th-thank you. You have shown yourself to be quite the gentlecolt, prince.”
“Perhaps after this night, you will call me by my name,” Blueblood said as he clambered into the carriage, settling down across from Connie. “Destrier Dark Skies, you may proceed.”
“Very good, Prince Blueblood.” Dark Skies saluted and trotted off out of the palace gates.
The trip to the restaurant was fairly uneventful, Connie and Blueblood both wrapped in a nervous silence. The route was very direct, artery streets being taken down from the palace through to the third terrace restaurant district. The restaurant itself was not very flashy, being a low, square building with a pagoda-style roof and some Neighponese touches in the decorative aesthetics. There was a neon sign above the door, announcing the name Ume to Ringo along with neon tube versions of an ume and an apple.
Dark Skies had noticed a few ponies and one carriage following as they left the palace, always at a respectable distance, though with some interest in the occupants of his own carriage, given the angling of necks of those passed. He detached himself from the carriage and rushed over to the door. “Be ready, we had some followers. I think we all know what this means.”
Blueblood answered from within. “I was aware it might happen. Connie... would you like to go straight to the theater?”
Connie hesitated before answering. “No. As scared as I am I asked for this. Notice. You can't shake me off, prince. I won't go so easily or be quiet.”
“I never expected you to,” Blueblood said with a hit of nervous mirth. “Destrier, you may open the door. Connie, as is still the gentlecoltly thing, you may go first.”
“It's an honor... and a terror...” Connie said, with a breathy laugh at the end.
Dark Skies opened the door of the carriage with a smooth motion, setting off a sudden blinding wave of flashing lights and popping bulbs. The followers revealed themselves to be a small collection of paparazzi lured out by a rumor of a palace-made reservation. Most stayed away, thinking it was only Celestia or Luna again, whose presences were both not very newsworthy and could lead to an annoyed reproach from one of the Princesses. While it was not so bad with Celestia, with Luna it often meant scattering folks and cutting words that made for lots of blocked-out quotes, even as ancient as they were.
Those who dared to be there were rewarded with a gray leg, ending in a black cloth shoe. The somewhat knobby knee raised all kinds of newsworthiness alarms. Not just a palace maid, a donkey. More and more detail emerged with her head. A crazed collection of bits and pieces all over her hilariously-long ears. Several of the photogs were already taking notes for the cruel headline. The full emergence was marked by chatters and further snaps of the cameras.
When Blueblood emerged from the carriage there was almost a moment of silence, save for disbelieving gasps. Then the sudden evening-destroying wall of flashing lights, clicks coming so fast it sounded like an army of typewriters. Photographers were calling editors or reporting their freelance prices had just jumped. Practically every move was documented by the flashing cameras, enough footage likely shot to put together into a flip book movie. There was another gap in flashes when Blueblood pressed in against Connie's side, then led her on toward the restaurant.
Additional following and shooting was halted by Dark Skies suddenly spreading his wings and standing sternly before the door to the restaurant after Connie and Blueblood had entered. “Stop! Destrier Dark Skies, Celestian Corps, here for locomotion and security. Step back, please. The restaurant has a standing order of no photography during Palace-ordered events.” He was unmoved by the groans, snorts and attempts at bribery. He kept his wings spread and set firmly before the doors, forward enough to allow folks to exit but close enough to stop tricky sneakers from rushing in.
Inside the doors the restaurant was a sort of fusion of Central Equestrian and Neighponese. Bamboo supports and decorative touches made for a most delicious environment. Adding to the lovely environment were preserved branches of apple blossoms and ume blossoms, to go along with the name of the place. They were very heavily represented, hanging from the ceiling while lights shined through them, leaving long, romantic shadows over the booths. At the front of the restaurant a waiter immediately recognized Blueblood and took up two small menus. “Prince! The reservation did not say it would be you! And you have a very... lovely... lady with you this evening. How rare. Come, the table has been reserved.”
Connie and Blueblood were led through the restaurant, the target of disbelieving stares and many whispers. Connie shrank down a little, pulling in closer to Blueblood. But rather than the expected seat at a booth they were led through the double doors and back into the kitchen. The look there was far more standard, all gleaming, sterilized metal and tile, with rubber mats for the chefs as they moved between stations and performed their duties. They were led to a white-cloth-topped square table with two cushions set on opposite sides.
After Connie and Blueblood had both been settled down at the table, with some curious looks from Connie, the waiter set down the black menus. “The chef's table, as reserved for the palace. I will allow you a moment to peruse and decide.” With that the stallion bowed his head and moved off.
“So... is this when the joke starts?” Connie asked, sullenly, looking around at the less-than-stellar surroundings. “Or is this a way to weasel out of being seen eating with me?”
“I know this will be surprising but this is a great honor.” Blueblood looked around with a nod, focusing especially on the chefs. “The kitchen in which you work is unlike a restaurant's kitchen, especially one for haute cuisine. The chef's table is reserved for very, very special guests, who are privy to the actual process, which is often undertaken as an art form. Sometimes the head chef himself will come to dine or converse, an honor that none of the others in the dining room can claim.”
Connie had never felt less classy than she did at that very moment. She opened up the menu and scanned over the various offerings. “Do I need to leave now or can I wallow in my own ignorant classlessness for a while?”
“You did not know. There is no shame in that. I will admit, had I not known, I would have been insulted as well that it was not an elevated table in the spotlights.” Blueblood laughed at his own exaggeration of his former ego, getting Connie to smile. “Every pony in that dining room now envies you. They are probably out there right now wishing they were you, and not just because you are out with an absolute hunk of a stallion.”
It was then Connie's turn to laugh, slowly shaking her head. “You... okay, now I can sort of see how you can believe your ego is charming.” She looked down at the menu again in confusion. “I've had quick Neighponese dishes before and some of these seem passingly familiar. But... there are no prices. How will I know how much to tip?”
“There is an old saying among the nobility. 'If you have to ask, you can't afford it.' I never asked because everything was taken care of for me. But in this instance, do not fear. While high, the prices are not unreasonable, and we are covered by Palace credit. Gratuity included. But I still brought a few bits to get used to the practice,” Blueblood said with a chuckle.
“Well, somepony is learning to be a normal fellow. I guess you really are trainable. Maybe we can do a little something about that kissing problem...” Connie mused.
Blueblood popped his brows and pursed his lips at Connie. “Promise?”
The meal was a casual affair with warm soy sauce for dipping, ume juice drunk out of small clay bottles, and a fine selection of premium fruits and vegetables on hoof-packed vinegared rice wrapped in nori. It was like the quick take-away dishes Connie had eaten before, but upped in quality, and then some. They had even been visited by the chef, a portly and gregarious Neighoponese unicorn.
Blueblood dropped a collection of bits on the table, of modest denomination. “This seems appropriate... right?” He asked, looking to Connie for guidance.
Connie pushed the coins around, checking numbers and values. “Not knowing the prices... this seems fine for a tip at a place like this. But that means... we're going out there again..”
“I could have the Destrier lead us out the back door. It would take but a moment to pass the message,” Blueblood said.
“You could. But I put myself in the middle of this. I regret everything but I can't go back. I can't let you be the bigger partner in this crazy situation,” Connie said with a laugh, and a self-conscious fan of her face, slowly rising from her seat.
Blueblood waited for Connie to get up before he got up himself and stepped over to press against Connie's side. Both strode casually out of the kitchen, still taking stares and whispers from the patrons within. Connie could see that the looks were not derision but jealousy. The stallions seemed to envy the honor, while the mares envied so much more. It made Connie press herself up against Blueblood all the tighter and whisper, “Will we even make it to carriage or through the street to the theater?”
“They know better than to stop us. Great-auntie Luna would have their eardrums,” Blueblood whispered back, taking a moment to compose himself before he pushed open the front doors and softly called, “Destrier, we must get to the carriage.”
“That will be difficult but on my honor you'll make it...” Dark Skies replied, looking out over the path to the carriage. The call had gone out to every stringer, freelancer and salaried photog, along with the beat reporters and wanna-bes. They had turned a small knot of curious onlookers into a sea of flashing lights and chattering voices. And eyes. Hard, scrutinizing eyes. Along with the swarm of paparazzi came a collection of constables to keep the peace. While they were mostly the night shift in their white uniforms and steel buttons a few of the day shift had volunteered.
One of those day shift ponies approached Dark Skies. She was a unicorn mare, pink with a purple mane, in her blue uniform with the polished brass buttons and metal sun badge. She saluted the Destrier. “Upper-tier patrolmare Rose Iris. Here to help manage this sudden...” Rose looked behind Dark Skies to Blueblood and Connie. “Getting in trouble again, Prince?”
“I recall you... you helped that other constable during that little incident. In an odd way, I should thank you for sending me back into the palace,” Blueblood said with a bow of his head.
“I am uncertain how that works but that is no matter. The other constables are holding back the crowd and have been informed of your destination. They will provide the road clearance to the theater. But there isn't much to be done about them beyond keeping them back,” Rose stated. “Let's move, right now.”
“Follow behind, you two, and mind the paparazzi,” Dark Skies Said, his spread wings angling back to give him a sleeker, more streamlined look, to let him more smoothly cut through the crowd to the carriage.
The crushing crowd was flashing lights and scribbling notes, all their dozens of eyes focused hard on Connie and Blueblood, but mostly on Connie. There were audible things in the crowd that made Connie's decorated ears droop, such as 'rabbit-eared,' 'lowly maid,' and 'just some jenny.' “I was wrong,” Connie whispered, closing her eyes and letting Blueblood lead her. “The eyes are terrible... but their words are worse...”
“I stopped listening a long time ago. I think I should start again...” Blueblood replied, though by the time he could listen he was already letting Connie enter the carriage.
Once both were safely ensconced in the closed vehicle Dark Skies went back up to the front and hitched himself to it. After a confirming nod from several of the surrounding constables he flared his wings out and called, “In the name of the Princesses, official business of the royal family! Clear the road and allow passage in accordance with the statutes.” The crowd of photographers and reporters opened wide, giving greater passage than was necessary for the sake of following the law. The way open, Dark Skies and the constables set off.
An odd parade flowed up the streets of Canterlot, the carriage of Connie and Blueblood leading the procession of constables, reporters and photographers, the sea of flashes making ordinary citizens take notice and follow along. They moved from the third terrace up to the second, onto the border of the second and first to the grand, gargantuan Royal Canterlot Theater. The whole thing was a well-constructed hemisphere made of polished marble like much of the rest of the upper-reaches of Canterlot. The base of the hemisphere was decorated with the posters of current and future performances, as well as posters of the notable actors within.
There was already a space cleared in front of the theater for the carriage, ushers and additional constables waiting for them. Dark Skies detached himself from the carriage and let the two out once again. “Parasites. They can't even let two nice folks have a date. If they're so interested in maids why aren't they bothering Lime and me?”
“Because they are greedy, grasping and shallow,” Blueblood noted, suddenly aware that Dark Skies and Connie were staring at him with a certain amount of disbelief. “Who better to know? Is that what you think I should say?”
Connie gave a high, braying laugh and gave Blueblood a nudge. “Go, go. Let's not give them too much of a chance to say anything.”
Blueblood and Connie followed behind the ushers, Dark Skies following behind them with his wings spread and pushed forward protectively. Blueblood really listened to the chatter he could hear in the paparazzi surrounding them. He heard the usual things, disparaging remarks about himself. But more infuriating were words like 'desperate,' 'forced,' and 'straying.' More terrible still, he heard a mocking bray somewhere, and couldn't see any genuine donkeys to make it. “You should learn to cultivate your own aloof detachment, to simply not hear any of this...”
“I heard,” Connie said, dejectedly, “That you forced me to be here, that you're so desperate to date you'll take a lowly donkey, and yes... I heard somepony bray. That was no jack, I know that from experience.” Blueblood used a tendril of magic to pull Connie closer against him as they were let into the theater proper.
The lobby of the great edifice was awash in light, provided by the numerous, large diamond-hung chandeliers. Each one was hanging from a vaulted space, which had been decorated with sky scenes. There were five spaces in the semicircular lobby, from left to right depicting dawn, noon, afternoon, sunset and midnight. The floor was carpeted in red plush, while the walls were the same white marble as the exterior, with decorative columns around the outside and supporting the mezzanine. A single large staircase led up to that mezzanine, with doors to the mid-level seating. Two staircases curved from the mezzanine to upper boxes. On the ground floor two large staircases curved up to a different part of the upper level, to the royal boxes.
The staircases to the royal boxes were kept closed by velvet ropes and protected by ushers. On arrival Blueblood and Connie were eagerly conveyed up the right staircase, which led to Celestia's private box. “As I understand it,” Blueblood said to Connie, during their transit, “Great-auntie Luna's space is draped in dark cloth, and largely enclosed, such that is is nearly impossible to see her. She seems to require a great deal of privacy. Great-auntie Celestia's space is brighter, more open, and loaded with amenities like a buffet for intermission and a professional-grade coffee machine that also makes cappuccino and espresso. We will be seen, we will enjoy it, and we will have refreshments.”
“No liquor? You just catapulted yourself into the top three dates,” Connie grinned and leaned a head against Blueblood's neck. “If you stay polite you might make number one.”
“It is an honor I dearly wish to attain,” Blueblood said, quietly, his smile growing larger and brighter.
At the top of the stairs the ushers unlocked the double-doors, which were carved with the image of a giant sun and covered in beaten gold. Through the doors was a space very like the sky box at a sporting event. It was practically a salon, carpeted in white plush, painted in soft pastel blue, with a tasteful chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. At the back wall near the door the buffet area was already set, salad chilling in proper containers, hot roasted dishes kept warm in magically-heated chafing dishes, the coffee machine already set to produce whatever beverage would be required. There was a curved balcony-like bulged area at the front pointed towards the grand stage. Celestia's personal throne, a high, white seat, was there, looking more than large enough to hold her and then part of another regular pony. Set on front of that was a low, flat cloth couch that would require any pair of folk using it to snuggle together.
Connie looked over the edge of the balcony, rich and fancy ponies looking back up at her, whispers passing between some of them. She looked over at the available seating and chuckled. “I think I see that even her majesty Celestia has a certain idea about how we should watch the play.”
“She seems far less inscrutable than great-auntie Luna. And speaking of her...” Blueblood looked on the couch and found a pair of bound scripts. He lifted one with his magic and flipped through it. “'The Taming of the Brute' and 'The Stallion's Prize.' These are scripts for the plays to be performed. And they are all marked with notes about what all the lines mean, with notes for deeper understanding. She wishes for us to understand what is being said... or for us to know what we might miss while otherwise... occupied.” He popped his brows and pursed his lips.
“You never turn it off, do you?” Connie laughed and settled down on the couch with one of the scripts. “I want to watch some of it. How many times will I have this chance?”
“Hopefully many,” Blueblood said, settled down with Connie, snuggling up good and close. “I can take you any time you wish...”
“Show down, lovercolt...” Connie said, pushing away a short distance. “Date's not over yet.”
“Indeed not. Let us proceed...” Blueblood raised a hoof and let his magic flash, indicating that he wished for the performance to start. At the cue the curtain rose and the small orchestra began the incidental music.
The performance was quite a marathon, as two plays were performed one after the other, rather than the usual three-bill spaced out over the day. The plays were related, so it all flowed together, despite being from two different playwrights. By the end of the performance of the second play Connie and Blueblood were lightly dozing against one another, and were jolted awake by the stomping applause of the audience.
“Oh! Oh! Yes! Quite! Encore! Brilliant!” Blueblood was on automatic, blurting out all the things that were appropriate for a noble pony to say of a play.
“Fireclay, your climax is too loud again!” Connie blinked her eyes and blushed deeply, clamping her hooves over her mouth. She was so glad that her outburst had been mostly drowned out.
“Oh my...” Mostly. Blueblood gave Connie a faux-perverted grin and winked. “Should I be jealous?”
“She is a fellow maid and happens to have the cell beside mine. And when she tends her own needs she seems to happen to kick my wall often...” Connie related, blushing up a storm.
“I not sure if that's better or worse,” Blueblood mused and then laughed. “Dinner and two shows. Was it enjoyable?”
“You surprised me. You saw past my ears, saw past my status, saw past my attitude, when I had one... you're nothing like what anyone says. I think you're decent coltfriend material... Blueblood.”
Blueblood looked almost stricken, a huge, dopey grin spreading across his face. “Oh Connie...” He came in and pressed his lips against hers, being rewarding with the soft, reciprocal press of her own lips. Their forelegs wrapped around their upper bodies while, pulling them both tightly together. The lips parted as tongue flicked teasingly into each other's mouths. Connie was out of practice, Blueblood hadn't a clue. Together they muddled through the short make-out.
Connie spoke first, after both spent a bit of time panting. “Better. Better. I think I can work with this now. Shall we head back to the palace... Blueblood?”
“Say my name a thousand times and I will still ask you to say it again, Connie...” Blueblood nosed at Connie's ears as much as he could given all that was going on with their decoration. After a tiny kiss he led her along out of the box, with the accompaniment of the theater ushers, finding a milling crowd of nobles and rich ponies from the rest of the theater, seemingly waiting to see for themselves that Blueblood was really in the company of a donkey maid. He stood up all the taller and pressed even closer to Connie as they walked past the throng. He could only scowl within as he watched them all lie in silence, venomous smiles and judging looks aimed at them like arrows.
Outside of the lobby they were fronted by Dark Skies again, who motioned with his head to the carriage. The paparazzi had formed a kind of rough passage to the carriage. “Next stop, the palace and home free. Let's get going. I promised Lime... well, you know what I promised Lime.”
“Sadly, Blueblood does not have a similar promise but he has been a good gentlecolt anyhow,” Connie said with a grin, gently nudging against the big unicorn's side.
Blueblood half-heartedly laughed. He was listening to chatter between two of the photographers. “How much do you think he's paying her?'
“You'd think she'd have to pay him but where does some maid get bits, let alone a donkey?”
“You couldn't pay me enough to take out a knob-kneed, markless girl.”
Blueblood stopped cold. Bigotry. Rank bigotry. And not just aimed at an anonymous figure, which would have been terrible enough, but aimed at Connie. “This should not be in this city,” Blueblood muttered, turning to confront the photographers.
They were both unicorns, in professional-looking camera harnesses but lacking any press indicators. One was all red, mane and tail, the other was a pale blue with a white mane. The red one laughed. “And can you imagine the sex?”
“Making mules!” The other said, “And that stupid noise! Hee-HAW! Hee-HAW! Hee-Ha-!”
All of the paparazzi in Canterlot got a hundred different angles and thousand different shots of a raging Blueblood rearing up on his hind legs, magic surging from his horn to shove the red unicorn aside while he very directly punched the blue one square on the forehead, hitting horn and skull at the same time.
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Well, way to make a scene, Blueblood. Not that they didn't deserve it, but assault isn't going to earn you any favors. So close to being home free too.
Attacking photographers
, paparazzi are douche bags anyway, they leech off the private lives of others and killed several celebrities.
On one side he was in the right mind set and on other side he just assaulted some ponies, but they were racist, so the ends justify the means.
Up until the end this chapter was adorable and then it became awesome. Luna should be proud of what Blueblood did that night, he followed through with his promise and defended his date. I'm gonna guess that Blueblood got upset mostly because Connie was the first one outside of his family to not use his title.
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He thinks that in all the world Connie is the only one who has a status that is equal to his. His great-aunts are over him, his coterie of noble 'friends' are beneath him.Connie is the only one worthy of him, though in honesty he barely feels worthy of her. And the title thing, in an earlier chapter he wanted her to not use his title, like she stopped saying 'sir' in every sentence. It was a sign of their relationship reaching a new level.
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Imagine if Connie was a black human woman. Now imagine Douchey IlPaparazzo was head-bobbing and talking about fried chicken and watermelon. Now say Blueblood shouldn't punch his head into his neck.
2329981
I didn't say he shouldn't have done it. I am just saying there will be ramifications. Sometimes you just have to walk away. Like if you're in the South surrounded by klan members.
When Blueblood said this...
He should have stuck to the old ways and ignored what they said... but maybe that was the photographer's plan, bait Blueblood into lashing out and they could make a ton of money on the photos and their employers take care of the medical bills. It's a good plan, the magazines/newspapers get some great embarrassing shots plus a cover story and the paparazzi get a ton of bits and their medical expenses covered by the people who bought the photos. $$$$$
Blueblood's actual reaction? Acceptable, they did call Connie a whore and act all specist. The Diamond Dog palace maid "forget the name" would approve of how the prince handled the situation.
*If actor Sean Penn can get away with punching photographers, then so can the prince.
Oh and kudos for the amount of detail and yes, those types of restaurants are ridiculously expensive, but the food is so good and when it comes to tips it's safe to leave about 30 bucks.
2330869
With all the witnesses and confirmation it's probable the courts will award Connie a payout. But Blueblood is still in a ton of trouble. That's why the next chapter will be interesting.
Heh. I can see the headline now:
BLUEBLOOD KICKS ASS
Well, hitting the paparazzi wasn't smart, but damned if I wouldn't have done the same thing. But I feel bad for said paparazzi. Not only is he leaving with an injured and potentially broken face, but he is likely to get busted eardrums when Luna gets finished with him. Honestly, he's enough of a rude and crude bastard I'd like to see Celestia give her hand at giving him a Royal Canterlot-powered reprimand. She's perfectly capable of it and it would be FAR more terrifying. So terrifying, I think, it could leave the poor sod rather traumatized, whereas Luna would just leave him with a blown back mane and badly harmed ears.
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He will get what he deserves. Including professional snubbing, social shunning and a giant red flag on his reputation that says "I'm a flaming bigot." In Equestria you might as well be Charlie Manson.
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They don't use ethnic slurs in reputable newspapers, and besides, he was defending a donkey
But you've got it. After tuttering over the impropriety and 'confirming' all the rumors about Blueblood, one os going to paint him as the hero. And once the Palace press corps gets to it he'll get a proper lionizing. I don't feel bad about revealing it. It's patently obvious.
Several of the photogs were. Huh, never heard photog used for photographer before?
I like the pony version of sushi.
The who thing. whole.
experience.”Blueblood. Forgot the space.
The taming of the brute, I see what you did there.
Woo, smash the filthy cockroach!
...So fucking tired of not being able to read properly and post comments as I did before Knighty had another 'artistic' bender.
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Fixed. And sorry about your troubles.
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Just a sore point. The last times it was just a pain to load pages for a few weeks, now I can't read in landscape.
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What phone are you using? The latest updates work great for me. I can comment, type quickly and read. Even on a mobile network I can practically load pages faster than I can on my laptop.
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An LG C900 Windows phone. It's just the mobile site I think, but Knighty changed it so I can't access the normal site through my phone anymore.
Whoa...Blueblood is a badass!!!!
I'm sorry. Those two lines had me rolling.
I laughed so hard I sneezed blood....true story