Blueblood

by Dsarker

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Prince Blueblood, Adventure
Length: 6332

Blueblood's adventures as a semi-secret agent.

Blueblood is a semi-secret agent in the service of Princess Celestia, her underhoof - the one who can do what she needs done when it can't be known that she did it.

Published 2013-06-14 04:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-09 13:18:05 UTC

Chapter One

"Ponies, on the whole, prefer a pretty lie to a painful truth." - Glorious Words, 'Lies'

It was just over one hundred years ago that my great-grandfather died, and this was how it happened.

It was the day of the Grand Galloping Gala, and as usual, the first chills of winter were beginning. In one of the inner halls, apart from the ballroom, sat seven ponies. Old friends, for the most part - unified through their shared experience. For they were all soldiers, or to be more precise, leaders of soldiers.

There were seven of them, so the story goes, talking about past campaigns, or training methods, or old enemies. They were an even mix - Persistence was an earth pony, my own ancestor Oblige was a unicorn, just as I am, Falx was a pegasus, Guisarme another earth pony, Ahlspeiss another unicorn, Spetum another pegasus and the last officer, and the seventh pony, another unicorn called Starlight Charmer.

It so happens that in the middle of a quiet break in the talk, Starlight Charmer decided to speak up.

"You are all warriors, and teachers of warriors. So what, then, is the greatest virtue a warrior may possess?" she asked, looking to each in turn.

Persistense was the first to answer, the scarred brown earth pony general. "Strength!" he declared. "For a weak warrior is useless in and out of battle."

There was some nodding, before Falx spoke to counter him. "No, it is courage," said the pegasus mare. "For a fearful warrior's strength only helps them to flee." Most of the room nodded at this.

Then Spetum spoke up, the youngest pony present. "Resourcefulness, I think. For a pony who does not think cannot use his strength or his courage."

It was then that Oblige spoke up. "Loyalty." The room turned to him, picking at some of the hors d'oeuvres. "For if a warrior is not loyal, all his virtues serve your enemy." The room nodded, but - of course - it was Guisarme who was the last.

"Pah, what would you know of loyalty?" he said. There was some laughter at this - never wise to laugh at one of my house.

"Very well, let's put it to the test," said Oblige, smiling as he walked up to Guisarme. I don't think he'd have been reckoned much up against him - for my ancestor was quite a short pony, and Guisarme...

"One of my ponies is worth a thousand of yours," said Guisarme as he looked down at Oblige, who nodded.

"Perhaps in battle, my friend, but not here in our gracious Princess' winter dance." He moved around the room. "Who is willing to test their ponies against my own?"

"What will be the test?" asked Spetum.

"Loyalty, of course," Oblige replied. "Is that not the highest of all virtues?"

"My ponies' loyalty is unconditional," said Falx stonily.

"So I hear," said Oblige. Perhaps it is just me reading in to it - but I think his voice would have had a hint of sarcasm by now. "But are you willing to put it to the test?"

"I am," said Guisarme.

"As am I," said Spetum.

"I as well," said Ahlspeiss.

"I will join your test," said Persistense.

Falx, of course, had begun to suspect something by now (quite rightly, as it turned out), and did not speak.

"Do not hestitate too much longer, Falx," said Oblige. "Else we might have to call your courage into account as well."

"My ponies have nothing to prove," Falx said.

Oblige nodded to her. "Very well. I had only heard that your ponies lived by their actions... not their words."

"Yes," said Falx with a nod.

"Very well. Let us see if your soldier's actions live up to your words."

Falx remained silent for a moment, before nodding and saying curtly "Very well."

"Excellent!" said Oblige, clearing aside the room and lining up the other generals against the wall facing the door. "Then here is our contest. We will each call our bodyguard into the room. Then we will give them a command."

"What command will that be?" asked Starlight Charmer.

Oblige smiles here. "I will demonstrate with my own bodyguard, Otik. Then, each of you will follow suit. The bodyguard who hesitates or questions the command will be disqualified. Are we in agreement?" The others nodded, with Falx nodding last. "Very well. Let the game begin!"

He turned to Starlight Charmer. "My Lady, would you be so kind as to call Otik into the room?" She nodded, and went outside of the room to fetch the pegasus mare.

As she came back in, Otik in tow, Oblige turned and smiled at Starlight Charmer. Otik knelt before Oblige, awaiting her master's wishes.

"Otik," he said.

"My lord?"

"Kill me."

The pegasus mare did not pause. "Yes, my lord."

Her sword swept out of the scabbard before anypony could react, and stabbed through his chest in an instant. Before they could stop her, she had drawn it back, and fell on it, killing herself.

That is what it means to be loyal. That is the lesson drilled into us from our birth. Loyalty - to family, to the Princess, to Equestria - is everything. We must be willing to kill - or die - at a moment's notice.

That does not mean that we welcome death. But it means that we do not hide from it.

What else can I tell you? My mane is blond, and my coat is white. My cutie mark is of a compass - this stuff you already know. I have told you what the most important virtue is. I have told you of my great-grandfather's death. Am I young? Yes! Am I a swordspony? Yes! Neither of these is important at this juncture. Am I a good pony?

Come, let me show you my works, and you may judge that for yourself.

Chapter Two

"This is all your fault, bitch!"

Silence filled the room. Not a peaceful silence - oh no. The silence that you get when everypony is waiting for the other shoe to drop. A unicorn stallion is in front of the princess, his sword half-drawn, shouting at her.

I approach the unicorn stallion shouting at my charge, and speak to him, saying "What is the matter, my friend?" for I recognise him. He is not a friend, really, but one of the usual nobles here. Hot-headed? Yes. Rather, perhaps, brash. He is a warrior, but he remembers not the first principle - to leave your anger always at home. His name is Axe, and he likes me.

Not for what I have done - no, he prides himself on not being one of that sort - but for what I am. I am blunt - or at least, I appear to be - and this makes me just like him. I have a reputation around the court for being blunt - yes, even when politeness would be better suited - and for being honest and - sometimes - humble. It is not for nothing that I alone of the royalty wear no crown. No, it is deliberate. It keeps ponies off their guard. For all of the good qualities of the princesses, not everypony views them in such rosy terms as I do.

"Out of my way, Blueblood," he says. There is alcohol on his breath - though not too much. "My quarrel isn't with you."

I shake my head, with a hint of sadness in my appearance. "I cannot do that, my friend, for you have attacked my charge. Now, please, what is your quarrel with the princess?" I try to sound persuasive, though - of course - not too much.

"She has been spreading lies about me! Slandering me to my lord! Telling him I have been trying to steal his position!" His voice is angry, and his pain is there. "My loyalty to my lord will not be questioned!"

The room is quiet besides, and I speak. "Maybe not, but it cannot be defended here. Remember your training, Axe. This is treacherous ground. Remember where you are." It seems to break through to him, and I can see it in his eyes - that he did not want to do this. He looks around, and seeing the stunned courtiers around us, the haze of the alcohol is broken.

"Too much mead," he says, softly.

"What was that, my friend?" I ask him.

"I... too much mead. I knew it was strong, but I did not heed that. I am dishonoured." He shakes his head. "I have shamed my lord."

I recognise the opening, and step forward, lightly tapping his sword. "Put your steel back into its scabbard. You cannot prove your courage here." He nods, slowly, and slides it back.

"This very night," he says, "I will prove my courage. Somehow."

"Tomorrow," I say. "Come, I know where you need to go. Follow me." I feel his anger seep away. As I lead him out of the room, my charge looks at me. I nod. I know what I must do, my lady.

I am shaken from my thoughts by Axe. "It must be lonely," he says.

"Hmmm?" I ask, not quite understanding him.

"It must be lonely. To be the only honest Royal," he says.

"Lonely isn't quite the word for it," I say as I lead him out.

The next morning, in the tavern we have spent the night, I am woken by the sound of screaming. Quickly, I rise, taking my sword from its resting place.

"My lord?" asks the... ah, serving mare as she wakes up at my movement. "What is it?"

"Go," I say, draping my cloak around me. "Get the Royal Guard. And quickly." She nods, and hurries off quickly. I did not blame her. I am not like most stallions. And this was not the first I had disappointed so. I had time before the guard would arrive, and so I took out a hoofful of bits, leaving them on the dresser. Better than nothing, I suppose.

But right on schedule, the guardsponies arrived. Nodding to them, we went out to find the source of the scream - and my companion that night.

As I opened the door, I made sure to step around the pool of blood in the room, emanating from the dead noblepony in the center. Sitting in front of him was his vassal, my angry friend Axe, his sword still lodged in the neck of the murdered pony.

"Bring him to me," I say, and the Royal Guard drag the now-sobbing pony to me. "Ah, my friend, this does not look good for you," I say. "You are sobbing like a little filly."

He cannot but stare at me through the tears streaking down his face. "Bluh- bluh," is all he can get out.

"And now, you are stammering like a virgin on her wedding night," I say. The stallion's despair is untouchable, and I sigh a little. "Axe, my friend, do not make this more difficult than it already is for me." At last, his anger seems to resurge, and I smile a little. Even now, though, his speech eludes him. "You know my duty. I am sworn to uphold the Law of Equestria. I am Princess Celestia's servant in this, and I have a duty to that office that I uphold."

The stallion just stares at me, coldly, as if he thinks that it will intimidate me. "Now, Axe, tell me. Do you recall any of your activities last night?" I say to him, but am met only with silence. "Axe, I know you understand the law. Silence equals consent in the Princess' eyes." He remains silent, but I spot a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Of course I do - it is what I have been trained from birth to do, to see the weaknesses in others.

"This is what I am going to do," I tell him. "I am going to tell you what I know. Then we are going to talk about what you know. Do you understand?" He nods, as solemnly as if he were making an oath. "Very good. This is what I know. Last evening, your wrathful display in the court forced me to remove you from the Princess' presence. You and I talked as we left, and we agreed that the topic required more discussion in more comfortable surroundings. We stopped by this tavern - your favourite, if I recall correctly - and we drank mead and ate and enjoyed the company we found inside. You left with your consort, and I left with mine. That was the last I saw of you... until just now."

Axe remains steady. Good. "I do know that during the meal, you spoke badly of your lord. You said that you have been passed up for positions on more than one occasion, and that your lord was not judging you fairly. I assumed the mead was speaking for you, but now..." I wave a hoof at the blood mess behind him. "If I had known your lord was here, in the same tavern as us, I would have recommended another."

I lean close towards him. "Tell me, my friend. Why did you pick this tavern above any other? We passed several on the way here. Maybe twelve. Why this one in particular?" He remains silent.

"Very well. Let us continue. I heard a scream a short while ago, and I sent my consort to fetch the local Guards. We came to this room, and found you here." I sigh, and take a step back. "Axe, can you honestly tell me that you remember not killing your lord?" I look at him, almost seeming to beg for him to give me something, anything to help him.

He frowns, confused. "Whuh...?"

"Do you remember not killing your lord?" I ask again, demanding this time.

"I do not..."

"Do you know for a fact that you did not kill your lord? It is a yes or no question, Axe. Which is it?" I say to him, raising my voice a little.

"I... I don't..."

"Yes or no, Axe!"

"I don't remember!"

"So, then," I say, closing in on my prey, "you cannot say you did not kill your lord, can you?"

"I did not kill my lord," he insists.

"But how do you know that?" I ask.

"I know I did not kill my lord!"

"But you do not know that, do you? You cannot honestly tell me that you know that."

"Yes! I do! I know I did not kill my lord!"

"Do you remember doing it?"

"No, I do not remember doing it," he says, and the last stroke is played.

"You do not remember what?" I ask.

"I do not remember killing my lo-" He stops short.

"That is a shame, Axe. A pony should always know the crime for which he is being punished."

"No, wait!"

I ignore him, turning to the Royal Guards. "Take him away, to await Princess Celestia's sentencing." I leave, ignoring the curses and insults he directs at me. I have already heard far worse.

It is later, now, and I have returned to the palace. There in front is the Princess who has ordered this all done. Princess Cadence. She is one of the three true Royals, the three Royals by Blood, not (as I am) by name. And like the others, she is ravishingly beautiful - and don't think that she doesn't know it. It's hard to look away. The shadows almost cling to her like they were tailored for her. They reveal a little - but only as much as she desires.

She is your friend's wife! I repeat to myself, looking away from her. She has a small chuckle, and says "Your eyes explore for your hooves, my brave little champion." She moves closer. Only my thoughts for somepony else keep her intoxicating presence at bay - though that would be little enough if she truly desired it. "Axe has paid a high price for his insolence."

"Not high enough," I say in response. She laughs at that a little.

"If it were anypony else, I'd say they were pretending humility. But it is you... the only honest Royal," she says.

"A name the others have given me," I say.

"And you have earned it." Slowly she draws a white box from one side of the room. A small one. "And here is your reward, my faithful servant." I gingerly open the box. Inside is a small slip of paper, and as I recognise it, I make my expression solid again.

"Thank you, Princess," I say, permitting no emotion in my voice. She smiles, and I knew then that she did this deliberately, as a test.

I still don't know whether I have passed or failed.

Chapter Three

The concert hall was lit, but dimly. The lights, I recall, were focused on the stage. Upon it, a pony was performing. Octavia. She played - still plays - a cello. I looked at the small piece of paper in my hoof. This... this was the Princess’ gift to me. How she knew, I did not know - and perhaps that was her goal. To unsettle me.

As I watched Octavia, I could not fully appreciate her or her music. Part of my mind, of my consciousness, remained devoted to scanning my surroundings. Cadence had a plan, and whether it was to simply let me know that she knew, or to uncover the truth of what she suspected - or perhaps something worse - I had to remain alert.

Octavia is... Ah, it is difficult to describe any pony faithfully. But Octavia deserves that more than most. She is an entrancing pony. Her grey coat is immaculately kept. Her black mane? Always in perfection. You must have heard her playing - she does not lack for popularity. And for good reason. Her musical talent is astounding, astonishing.

But I do not listen - not fully. I have to ignore her, put her from my mind. For Cadence planned this, and whatever she has planned I must know before it happens. Whatever her intent on bringing me here, I must be ready.

She’s a beautiful mare, Octavia is. She’s an earth pony, of course, which makes her musical talent even more amazing, for she has picked an instrument few earth ponies can play, and fewer still can play well. But she is one of them.

So what, then, was Cadence’s goal? Why this? Just for the removal of one of her late favourites? Another of her jilted lovers? No. She had a plan here. I was her servant - so she wanted me here to do something for her.

Her music is stunning. It’s perfect. It is... bah, I wish I could describe it, it is indescribable. She plays so skillfully, that I doubt any could not be enraptured by it. It... It sounds like warm honey on a summer’s day, but with sweetly sad undertones.

The music finishes, and with a curse, I round on myself. My attention was distracted. I watch as Octavia bows, and leaves the stage. My attention cleared, I turn to the other attendees of the concert. Nobles. Merchants. A few common ponies. Two nobles were bickering, and I tried to think of why. It came to me as I recognised them. Vassals of Axe’s former master. Bickering for position, no doubt.

Down a level - three merchants talking. No anger among them - perhaps a business deal? A good setting for one; peaceable setting, beyond suspicion, and a safe place if tempers did happen to flare. It astonished me sometimes how ponies can be so open. It’s not merely a matter of unwillingness. Ponies do try to keep themselves to themselves, for the most part. Even though they have friends, ponies keep their emotions tucked inside them unless they are forced to bring them out. But that isn’t too difficult to do. I’ve yet to see a stallion who could resist being brought to anger by hurting a mare, or who wouldn’t spill their feelings under the influence of alcohol.

I continue brooding, scanning the audience, when I hear a polite cough at my side. I turn, to see Octavia standing there, a small smile on her face. Is she nervous? I can’t read her. She’s masked herself. “Good evening, Prince Blueblood,” she says, keeping her voice calm. “I’d heard we had a royal in the audience, but I wasn’t expecting it to be you, Your Highness.”

“Oh? Who did you expect?” I ask, keeping my face straight. This might prove slightly useful.

“Well...” she shrugs. “Princess Celestia, or Princess Cadence, Your Highness. They’ve seemed to be more...well, more like music appreciators than you have.” Nothing more than as expected, and I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or happy about that. I wasn’t known for attending musical performances. Octavia’s were the few I restricted myself to, and even then I hid myself.

I suppose, in retrospect, I must have seemed a strange sight. Even in court, I suppose. These events were high society, of course, and to depart from them would be unusual. But in those days, I was a little more careful of my image - that of an honest person, someone who did not care so much about appearances. It is an irony that has occurred to me many times.

“Are you disappointed?” I ask, putting a bit of humour into my voice. Ah, that did it. She smiles a little, and shakes her head.

“No, not disappointed,” she says, “merely a little surprised.” She paused for a moment - sizing me up. “We’re having a little to-do in... well, now, really. Would you like to join us?”

There it was. She had me. It would be positively rude to turn down such an invitation, so what else was I to do, really? “Of course. I’d be honoured to.” As she led me down backstage, I began to develop a sinking feeling that maybe this was what Cadence had wanted all along.

The little party was a small one. I gathered that they were mostly friends of Octavia, though I didn’t know anypony there (besides Octavia, of course). The two most talkative were a pair of pegasus ponies, the only two there. One of them was named Sonata. She was more talkative than the other - by name, Treble.

“So, Your Highness, what brings you to our friend’s concert?” Sonata asked, smiling a little. Not a warm smile - well, not ‘real’ warmth, anyway - but the typical polite smile. She seemed a little more... hmmm, unconcerned with rank. It’s a crude way of putting it, but it will suffice. Not that she didn’t recognise it (as some have) but more that she didn’t pay it overmuch attention. That was interesting. Most ponies are a little worried about their social superiors.

“Oh, many things, of course,” I reply. “First and foremost, Octavia’s beautiful music.” Something flickered over Octavia’s face. I didn’t catch it, but it was something. Sonata nods, and gestures to me to continue. “Second is the atmosphere. Something touches me when I see ponies as different as there are in the crowd coming together to celebrate another’s special talent.”

Treble looks like she is about to speak up, but Sonata cuts in. “Are those the only reasons, Your Highness?” she asks. “Not to be rude, but you aren’t well known for attending these sorts of things. More... ah, physical events, rather than mental.” Physical? What did she mean?

I had no time to think about that. A reason had to be invented quickly. Or... not. “Well, they are the only reasons I can think of at this time,” I replied. “I’m sorry if they may not be entirely to your liking.” Hmm. Again. Octavia. I’ve never been the most polite with ponies (well, unless it serves my interests - though even then...) but I didn’t think I was hitting too far from the mark.

Sonata nodded, slowly. “I see. Well,” she said, with that same, polite smile, “it is good to see a fellow music-appreciator in the royalty,” and with that, she walked off. Treble hesitated for a moment before following her, leaving myself and Octavia alone.

She smiled a little, the same one as Sonata had. “She seems a nice sort,” I said to her, hoping to start some sort of conversation. Have I told you about her mane? How it tucks around her ear? It’s an endearing feature.

“Yes, she does seem to mean well,” Octavia replies. Her voice is balanced. It’s not emotional... but not unemotional, if you follow. Just calm.

“So,” I begin, thinking of some topic to draw the conversation on with, before one clicked. “Have you performed with royals in the audience more than a few times before?” Even I'll admit that wasn’t one of the smoothest topics to pick, but I wasn’t feeling that cogent at the time.

“A couple of times,” she said, nodding. “Princess Celestia regularly attends, and occasionally Princess Cadence. I can’t say I’ve had the honour of performing before Princess Luna, though.” As expected. Princess Luna’s, ah, extracurricular activities at least kept her from the public eye for the most part... though the guards occasionally had to ‘misplace’ a missing person’s report. They enjoyed that job no more than I did. But Celestia wasn’t willing to censure her, and Cadence simply didn’t care. There wasn’t much choice. And at least when she wasn’t satiating her urges, she was a competent ruler. I’m sure for most ponies in Equestria, that made a nice change.

“Yes, she does tend to keep out of the public eye a fair bit,” I said. “Probably still adapting to the current day.” That, at least, was one problem I’d never had with Luna. The opposite was more likely. Celestia was still caught up in her glory days, when the Elements of Harmony protected Equestria and all that. Cadence had virtually disproved that thesis just recently, and it wasn’t unknown that there were six of them, and any missing would ruin everything. The Royal Guard had been instituted as adjudicators of the law, but under recent times they’d been forced to be a lot more militarised. Luna had been the one to suggest many innovations, and too many we’d simply overlooked.

That’s probably what annoyed me the most about her habits. Not merely that she had them, but that if she didn’t, she’d be the Princess the people needed. As it was, we were pretty bereft of leadership. Still, it at least boded well for Equestria that we had her at all. And we could rein her in a little. Maybe we could break those habits forever, but I doubted it.

“Yes, it must be a terrible shock to have simply lost a thousand years, locked away on the moon,” Octavia said. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to return, with most everypony you knew dead long ago.” This was a little more accurate. She hadn’t dealt with this exceptionally well. Those first few weeks she’d alternated between throwing a tantrum across the castle and sulking in her room. Celestia had gone to talk to her privately, and shortly after she seemed to have... adapted, for lack of a better word. It was a week or two later that the Captain of the Royal Guard and I had had to have that first meeting, so she wasn’t perfect. But she hid it well. Almost a year to the day of her coming back, I learned precisely how well. The Element Bearers - and I should tell you what I think of them, later - had been fooled into thinking she was some country bumpkin of a Princess, who needed to be taught how to act in proper society! That got a laugh here. Cadence had appreciated it, at least, though Celestia appeared to have taken it at face value.

Anyway, I digress - back to the conversation between myself and Octavia. “Yes, she’s had a difficult time, but we’ve worked together to help her get through it. She’s my aunt, and I felt a special duty to her.” Well, aside from the ‘aunt’ business, and ‘feeling’ that duty, it was pretty much the truth. It was business as always, serving my liege ladies.

“It’s good to see that even among the royals, being family still means something,” said Octavia, smiling. But it wasn’t that strained, politic smile. It looked genuine. So maybe I had gone a bit better than I’d hoped with that topic, though little enough. It was a good sign. Octavia was... well, I cannot deny it to you. Octavia is the mare of my dreams. Surprised? Why should you be? For a pony in my position (that is, of being deliberately cynical in service of the Princesses) it was something of a surprise to meet somepony who... well, who seemed to actually live like those ‘Elements of Harmony’ actually meant something. It’s... Bah, it’s impossible to describe it. It’s not... Not love at first sight, whatever that means. But she was the only pony I could even think about being in any sort of relationship (well, besides acquaintances, or a superior-subordinate relationship, or the very occasional friendship, of course) with. I had intended to get to know her, and, well, to get her to know me. But something in me thought about asking her out.

It was almost a second before I realised that I wasn’t just thinking about it, and my mouth had spoken too much already. Octavia looked shocked. The other ponies in the room didn’t seem to have noticed, though, so at least one faux pas had been avoided. And so... I settled in to take the best of it. Needless to say, she’d decline, and probably avoid me for the rest of the night, and possibly the same for any event at which we met. Braced for the rejection, I waited for it to come.

“I, uh...” she said, apparently knocked for six. “Okay, I suppose.” Well. You can probably guess how I felt. If she had been knocked for six, well, I wasn’t too far different.

“You’ll accept?” I said, still trying to think of how to deal with this stunning turn of events.

“Yes, I will,” she said.

“Then... It’s a date.”

An Interlude

Well, at this time, I thought it might be simple to tell you what I think about the bearers of the Elements, from my own position of cynicism. Let us first deal with Applejack, hmmm?

So Applejack provides food for Equestria.

So what?

Doing your work isn't enough. You've got to do it well, and exactly how well does Applejack provide? The cider never lasts a full day, it seems. There are reports of ponies who wanted to help her with that, not to mention help with the other parts of farming, and naturally she turned them down. And she certainly isn't busy selling the produce, or she wouldn't be needing to do it at the Grand Galloping Gala, would she?

Yes, Applejack is doing a fine job farming the apples. As fine as... well, let's say... Pinkie Pie would do. I'm sure if we sent her into the orchard, she'd harvest the apples as well as Applejack does.

How long does it take to buck a tree... five seconds?

To be honest, it's easy to pick on Applejack and her work for Equestria, but it's even easier to point out how little she regards other ponies' duties. You remember when she showed up to the Gala to sell carnival food? And she certainly holds Rarity in high regard, wanting her to 'patch up her duds', and never being satisfied while Rarity tries to do her craft as best she can.

Half of her family is either too old or too young, and the other half are boorish labourers who don't have any more manners or common decency than your typical ursa major. She brings her mud back with her into our houses and doesn't even have the common courtesy to take a bath. She'd rather talk to trees and prefers the company of her dog over any of us. She mocks us, says we don't know 'what real work is', then returns to her orchard and waits for something to endanger her harvest.

She complains about her hard work, but if you offer assistance, she mocks you and laughs in your face. 'I'll do this on my own!' she says.

Perhaps she doesn't want us at her orchard because she doesn't want us to see how simple the work really is.

And then there's our friend Rarity. There's a reason that she likes to make huge and extravagant dresses: it's to hide the fact that she has two mouths. One she uses when talking to Applejack and the other she uses when talking about Applejack.

Did I say two mouths? Perhaps I meant two faces.

I've been slandered by Rarity as being dishonourable and devious, and yet, I've never been anything but honest about my nature. I wear my heart on my sleeve, as it were. Rarity, on the other hoof, is just like I am, but hides it under fine silks and a pretty smile.

How many times has she hid behind her friends while chastising you on your lack of courage? How many times has she fled, leaving Twilight to protect her as she ran away?

She herself said it best: "I only need one strike." And she only strikes when she's made sure that you have no chance to defend yourself. Not because she's a better pony, but because she talks better than you do.

Rarity is a snotty, limp-hoofed, inbred whelp who needs... no, not needs... who wants a spanking.

The funniest thing about her is how she thinks she serves Equestria. After all, how does dressmaking serve Equestria? Does it serve her... oh, say, greater than the way the Apple Family serves Equestria? Which is more important to Equestria - a couple of cheap dresses, or feeding hundreds of ponies? Digging up a couple of gems or preventing starvation?

A pony's duty is to help other ponies. Just how does dress making and gem finding help other ponies? I'm sure Rarity has a very eloquent answer for us. Tell you what, she can tell her very eloquent answer to the ponies who just starved to death. I'm certain they want to hear all about it.

Oh, yes, Rarity certainly makes Equestria look very pretty, but a pretty coffin is still a coffin, no matter how many sequins and gems you put on it.

And now we come to Twilight Sparkle. To be honest, there's not a lot bad to be said about Twilight Sparkle. I mean, ponies rarely see her. She stays up in her library, studying away. All day long, that's what she does: study, study, study. I wish I had the time to read all day long. Trouble is, I'm too busy obeying the Princesses' orders.

Now, Pinkie Pie. I have just one question about Pinkie Pie. It'll take me a bit to get to it, so I'll beg your indulgence for just a moment.

I have never been anything but honest. I'm the Princesses' underhoof, doing what they cannot do so they do not dirty their hooves with our work. I protect them from things they and the Royal Guard cannot see, because they will not dirty their eyes with the knowledge required to see them. I study warfare as much as the Guards, and magic as much as Twilight Sparkle.

I have never been anything but what I am, and yet, still you shun me.

Pinkie Pie was cloned, hundreds of times, and you couldn't tell which was which.

You pick out one from the horde of clones who calls herself Pinkie Pie, and you take her in with open hooves.

You shun me, but embrace her.

Well, my question to you is simple.

She says she is Pinkie Pie.

Why do you believe her?

Here's a truth for you. Rainbow Dash will never see you as her equal. As far as she's concerned, there's no difference between you and a dung heap. That's a truth. You know it and I know it. She knows it, too. She's just too afraid to say it out loud, because vanity is a character flaw. Commander Hurricane said so.

And Rainbow Dash knows this better than anypony else. I mean, look at her flying over Equestria with her hair and her dress and her fluke - I mean highly skilled rainboom. Doesn't she look just amazing! It's a good thing she's not vain, because that's a character flaw, you know. Commander Hurricane said so.

She also said that a pegasus has no room in her heart for pride. After all, a pegasus only has room in her heart for her friends. Just ask her. Rainbow Dash would do anything for her friends.

Except lose.

And make sacrifices.

Maybe be humble.

Certainly not give up, oh no.

Those things would compromise her principles, and she can't do that.

She'd abandon them before she compromised her principles. Just ask her.

That's what Commander Hurricane told her to do.

So, Rainbow Dash will do anything for her friends, except... well, you know, in which case she'll abandon them.

That's why her friends have to be very careful about what they ask her to do. I mean, the last thing I would want to see is Rainbow Dash leaving her friends rather than do what her friends tell her to do.

But that's Rainbow Dash for you: loyal to the very end.