Blueblood's Just Zis Guy, You Know?

Chapters

... with Special Guest Star, Ringer as Blueblood!
Rank: Prince - Codename: Blueblood
Chaotic Cop-out
Ziox: now with Lapatithamine
Blueblood's Just This Shy, You Know?
I'm Not Saying It Was Changelings... But It Was Changelings

... with Special Guest Star, Ringer as Blueblood!

Rut.

Rut rut rut.

Blueblood was at a sidewalk cafe, watching the ponies of Canterlot go by and trying not to think about the night ahead. He was poised to fall into a rut, and it was the same one every year.

It was the day of the Grand Galloping Gala, and Blueblood shuddered just to think of it. It was the same tedious affair every year, with the same slow music, same tiny appetizers, and the exact same sea of gossiping dilettantes. He'd actually given up all pretense and had asked Auntie if he could skip it this year, but she smiled that inscrutable smile of hers and had mentioned how disappointed she'd be if she didn't see him around during the evening. Practically an imperial decree to attend, then.

Blueblood blew a strand of mane out of his face with a sigh. He honestly did not know how Auntie put up with it... he'd only been attending the the Gala for about eight years, and it was already bad enough for him to consider running away to Appleloosa to avoid it. Last year it had only been joining the circus.

Shaking his head, Blueblood knew he'd do what he always did. Show up late, stick close to Auntie, then sneak out early and spend the rest of the evening at Pony Joe's. It wasn't perfect, but he couldn't let Auntie down, could he?

A flash of green caught his eye, and Blueblood perked up. Skipping Stone! They were always good for a laugh! If they went together, the Gala might be bearable, at least. Blueblood started waving to the green pony and almost called out before realizing that it wasn't his dear friend Skippy, but a complete stranger. Mane and cutie mark aside, the resemblance was amazing!

Chuckling at himself, Blueblood sat back down and made a note to hunt up Skippy after tea. Going to the Gala together still had merit and if nothing else, they'd be amused at how Blueblood had almost made a fool of himself waving at a stranger who happened to look... just... like...

Blueblood could barely contain his glee as the idea struck him. It might work... if he could pull it off... why, this just might be the best night ever!

•§•§•§•§•

"Your Highness, you want me to... what?" Ringer stared up at the prince.

"Please, please, call me Blueblood! I mean, I'm not THAT much taller than you," Blueblood said with a chuckle. It was true that the earth stallion was a few inches shorter than the prince, but he already knew he could work around that. "I saw you in the off-Bridleway performance of The Prancing Prince, so I know you can do this."

Ringer winced. "You... uh, saw that? Sir?"

Blueblood slapped Ringer on the back and laughed louder. "Saw it? I saw it nearly every night it ran! It was hilarious!" Noticing Ringer's pained look, the prince just smiled. "Oh, relax. Seriously! I know satire when I see it, and if a pony can't laugh at his own foibles, he deserves to be taken down a notch. And really, Blueblood is fine. No titles, no honorifics."

Ringer took a deep breath and tried to let go of the stress. The tension of standing next to and talking with the prince. The very important and very influential unicorn that he'd spent three months lampooning on stage, mocking and whining and wheedling and portraying him as the most self-absorbed, stuck up, VAINGLORIOUS oh NO he's going to have Celestia send me to the MOON and I'll never see an audience again and I'll DIE and-!!!

Blueblood grew increasingly worried as Ringer just stared at him and started to hyperventilate.

"Ringer? Ringer? Do you need a bag or someth-"

"Oh, PLEASE don't banish me to the moon! I swear I'll never act again! I'll work for the Diamond Dogs and work in a mine and I'll be underground where no one can see me and I'm SORRY!"

"GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" Blueblood shook the panicky actor and stared him in the eyes. "It's OKAY. I thought it was FUNNY. I want you to do me a FAVOR. No one's going to the moon!"

"... really?"

"Really." Blueblood patted Ringer gently and gave him a few moments to settle down. He still kept an eye on him for any warning signs that he'd have another fit, though. When no attack seemed forthcoming, Blueblood cleared his throat. "As you know, the Grand Galloping Gala is tonight and as a member of the royalty and nephew to the Princess, I'm expected to make a showing. What you may not know is that it's soul-crushingly boring and if given a choice between a thousand years on the moon or going to the Gala twice in a row, I'd pick the moon."

"And you want me to go? I thought you said you liked The Prancing Prince!" Ringer huffed.

Good, Blueblood thought, he's finally relaxing. Took him long enough... "Not just go... go as me. I want you to take my place and pretend to be me for the whole evening! Think of it as research... you can see all the nobs of Equestria hobnobbing and being all nobby. Plenty of material for the next satire! And you can impress everyone when we reveal that you fooled everyone! Agents will be breaking down the door to get the actor who fooled the entire upper crust for a whole evening with no intermissions. Also... well, I'd appreciate it. I know I'm asking a lot of you at the last minute, but I would be incredibly grateful if you'd do this for me."

Ringer looked over the prince... no, the pony before him, and considered. Blueblood was right, of course. Most of his material was gleaned from the tabloids and scandal sheets... seeing firsthoof all the passions and eccentricities of the elite of Equestria could give him enough to work with for half a dozen new plays... but there was no way he could do it.

But... a chance to show off his skill at impersonation not just to those who went to the Gala, but everyone who heard about it afterwards? He couldn't get better publicity if Luna herself put his cutie mark on the moon! Maybe he could do it...

It was the hopeful look on Blueblood's face that decided Ringer. For all that he'd made a joke of the stallion for three months, with all the rehearsals and pratfalls and sly winks about his foppishness... after talking with him for half an hour, Ringer was just struck by how nice he was. He wasn't perfect, and had a sense of entitlement that could only come from being royalty, but... he was friendly. Outgoing. He tried his best to do right by other ponies. He was a genuinely warm and caring soul. Probably gets it from his Aunt...

"I'll do it."

For all that he was an earth pony and only slightly shorter than the prince, Ringer was still tackled off his hooves by the flying hug Blueblood gave him.

•§•§•§•§•

"I wondered how you passed for me on stage..." Blueblood looked over the closet of make-up and dyes as Ringer put the finishing touches on his costume.

Coat and mane, powdered and dyed? Check.
Fake horn? Check.
Lifts in his shoes? Check.
Cutie mark copied? Hm. The left one was a bit crooked...

Ringer grumbled as he cleaned his flank off and started over on the fake cutie mark.

Blueblood peered down at a bucket of... cadmium #37? That didn't sound healthy... "Honestly, I'd been thinking it was some form of illusion and sat through a few shows trying to spot who was casting it for you."

Still focused on trying to paint a straight line on his own side with out smudging, Ringer said distractedly, "That's what everyone says. No one appreciates just what you can get done with real, practical effects." Ringer switched to a mocking sing-song. "Ooh, you can do anything with magic, why would you ever want to go to the fuss and trouble of doing anything for real? Pfah. Do you know what happens when you're in the presence of an on-going spell for, oh, say two or more hours?"

Blueblood looked up and shook his head.

"Your horn starts tingling. For a pegasus, their wings get itchy. For us earth ponies, our bones get warm. Something about the constant pressure of the magic just... it's impossible not to notice, for any pony. It's bad enough just by itself, but for the audience, it just takes them out of the story. I've seen a bunch of plays, really good plays, flop at the box office because they relied too heavily on magical effects."

"Huh. So, rather than have a unicorn offstage, you do... this?" Blueblood waved a hoof at the room they were in, crammed with all manner of paints, brushes, sponges, masks, prosthetic horns and wings, wigs and a couple of fake noses.

Ringer stuck his tongue out and put the finishing touch on his new compass rose. Gone was the average sized, grey and tan earth pony with two not quite identical bells for his mark... now there was a tall, white and blonde unicorn with perfectly straight compasses. "Yup! I mean, magic has it's place in the theater, don't get me wrong. Quick changes, momentary special effects, scene changes... but for costumes and props, it's gotta be real. The audience can tell if something doesn't hang right, or seem to have any weight or... ha! Listen to me, lecturing like a teacher."

"Any downsides?"

"Well, yeah, but they're manageable. If I get wet, the cutie mark will run. I have to be careful about what I touch, or I'll get make-up on it. And these lifts... ugh." Ringer showed Blueblood the shoe he was wearing that brought him up to eye level with the prince. "They RUIN my grip. I can barely hold anything, and can't even open a door with them on. You said the Gala is going to be mostly in open halls, right?"

"Yes, you should be fine. Ooh, I can hardly wait!"

Ringer kept watching and listening to Blueblood, observing how he stood and spoke and making adjustments to his mental image of the stallion. The night would essentially be one long improv exercise, but he'd still have to stay in character. "So, what are you going to be doing while the Gala's going on?"

"Get out of town. Everything shuts down for the Gala, and I'm in the mood for a REAL party! I've heard good things about... oh what is it called. It's right outside Canterlot, Auntie sent her student there... it's by the Everfree... Auntie Luna went there when she came back from the moon..."

"Ponyville? I've performed there a few times."

"Yes! Thank you! I've heard there's a mare there who throws simply the BEST parties around. Fun and games and friends... she even makes all the snacks herself, out of the bakery she works at. Ooh, I am looking forward to it!"

Ringer couldn't keep from laughing at how the normally dignified unicorn was practically bouncing with excitement.

•§•§•§•§•

You can do this you can do this you can do this...

Ringer took another lungful of cool garden air and tried to calm down. It was just opening night jitters. The Gala was going to start in just a few minutes, he would start mingling, and everything would be fine. He didn't have any lines to forget or marks to miss, he just had to smile and watch and try to make everyone think he was just the most handsome, eligible unicorn stallion in Canterlot and he'll never fool anyone they'll all laugh and then the Princesses will fight over sending him to the MOON or the SUN and... and... hair pulling... wings flared... mmm...

Ringer shook his head as his panic attack managed to derail itself in something that was at least ungentle-coltly, and probably sacrilegious.

He looked back at the main hall, and noticed a stunning vision of beauty enter the garden. Her dress, her tiara, her mane..! Ringer felt certain that if she talked to him, he'd gabble some nonsense and promptly pass out in shame. She was divine! Perfection! A mare fit for a king!

... or a prince, he realized. Ringer might not have a chance with her, but Blueblood might!

He approached the angelic unicorn as she was sniffing a rose, and delivered the suavest, most elegant opening line ever to be uttered in the pursuit of romance.

"Well, hello. I am Prince Blueblood." Aaaaah no no no of course I'm Blueblood everyone knows Blueblood he's the PRINCE for Celestia's sake I am the dumbest stallion ever I should banish MYSELF to the moon!

His face locked in a rictus grin, Ringer could barely believe it as the goddess before him simply introduced herself in return, before commenting on the flower she'd been looking at.

"Oh my, what a lovely rose!"

"You mean... this rose?" What do I do what would Blueblood do NO... no, stop, breathe, think. Think fast! Should I give it to her? Am I MAD? A bright red rose with that dress? I might as well throw wine on her! But she must know that so... aha! Deftly using his mouth since his hooves would only have crushed the flower in the lifts he was wearing, Ringer bit the stem off the rose and slipped it into the buttonhole of the formal collar he was wearing. "Thank you! It goes with my eyes."

That's what she meant for it, right? I mean, she's perfect! A rose for her would be like... like... gilding a lily! No, she must have meant it for me. An accent, to brighten me up! Dear Celestia, I feel so plain next to her. I must be the ugliest stallion in the Gala for her to take pity on me like this...

•§•§•§•§•

The evening wore on, far better than Blueblood had made it sound. Then again, Ringer was looking around him and could see satires and comedies of manners writing themselves for him, and not a bunch of passing acquaintances he'd have to remember at the next garden party. Simply a matter of perspective, he supposed.

The angel at his side didn't hurt, either.

The lifts, however, were wearing on him far worse than he'd expected. He'd worn them for plays before, but he'd been able to slip them off between scenes and stretch his legs a bit. It had only been about an hour since the Gala started, and already his hooves were killing him.

How mares do it, I'll never know... she's been walking with me the entire time in those pointy glass things, and acts like she's wearing nothing at all.

As they made their way into the corner of the gardens set aside for conversation and star gazing, Ringer couldn't believe it. Not only had she noticed that he was getting tired, but she'd been guiding him to one of the last available cushions? She must be the living definition of generosity!

With a barely suppressed sigh of relief, he settled down on the cushion to get some feeling back in his hooves.

•§•§•§•§•

As the evening grew more chill, Ringer and his... date? Do I dare claim one so... so amazing as MY date?.. returned to the main hall.

And immediately almost got himself killed.

With a cry of her name and a hoof to save her, Ringer cried out, "Stop!"

"Oh! Prince Blueblood! How chivalrous..." It didn't matter that it wasn't his name, the way she said it to him made his heart race. He glared down at the puddle before them. Water? On marble? A pony could break their neck! Especially me, in these stupid lifts...

"One would hate to slip." I can repay her for finding me that cushion in the garden! And giving me this wonderful rose!

"Yes! One certainly would." That laugh! Like a sweet bell, it seemed to cut through an invisible cloud that had been building out in the garden.

"One's cloak should take care of the problem..." Even as he said it, Ringer heard what he was saying and screamed at himself to stop.

I don't HAVE a cloak! I don't have ANY clothes! No no no, this sounds like I expect HER to mop it up with her dress! No one's that crass! What is WRONG with me?! What have I done?! The moon's too good for me! I should see if I can find the gates to Tartarus and- who am I kidding, they wouldn't let someone as horrible as me in there!

His mind totally locked up, Ringer could only blink a few times, not hearing what the mare said. He didn't snap out of it until it was too late, and that wonderful, amazing mare had already thrown her cloak down and nudged him forward.

What have I done? What have I done? I can't even look at her now! What is WRONG with me?

•§•§•§•§•

A DOOR?! Why is there a closed door here?! Why do we have to go through it?! Stupid, stupid lifts! Stupid me! Stupid, STUPID DOOR!!! AAAAAAARGH!!!

•§•§•§•§•

Okay. Okay. Okay. You can do this, Ringer. You've completely ruined everything up till now, so you can at least try to go out with some dignity. Chin up. Eyes closed. Face forward. If you don't touch anything, you can't break anything. If you don't say anything, you can't insult her. If you make it through the rest of the night, in the morning you can petition the Princesses to send you to the moon AND the sun. At the same time. Somehow. They can do that, they're the Princesses.

By this point in the evening, Ringer was nearing a fugue state. He was locked in a mental loop of berating himself for not thinking, and unable to think of anything else. His actions were becoming more and more automatic, as he fell back on all the habits he'd formed during the run of The Prancing Prince.

Which worked fine, until they got to the food cart.

... strapped to a meteor and flung out to the deepest reaches of space! But no, there might be some beauty in that, and that's more than I deserve. Maybe they can- oh, hey, apples! Man, if I only had some pockets, I'd-

Wait.

Was that... was that MY throat? DID I JUST CLEAR MY THROAT BACK AT HER?! NO NO NO NO!

... AGAIN?! I! But! She! No! This isn't-! This isn't... right...

And with a sad little ping!, Ringer curled up inside his own head and started sobbing, as the satire of Blueblood he'd perfected over months of rehearsals and performances took over, in the worst possible way.

"Bleh! Ugh! Fritters! Dumplings! Caramel apples?! My royal lips have touched common carnival fare! I'm going to the buffet for some... hors d'oeuvres."

If Ringer could see himself right then, he would have bucked himself hard enough to knock his cutie mark off. The nose in the air, the way he enunciated carnival and hors d'oeuvres... it was a perfect Prancing Prince... and a gross betrayal of the Blueblood he'd met that afternoon.

... isn't... right...

•§•§•§•§•

Ringer had a couple of minutes to come back to himself as he stared at the door to the hall with the buffet. He had nothing else to do while he waited for someone to open the door for him, after all.

It was only after thinking about how much he'd started to hate the lifts that he realized he could form a coherent thought again. A few thoughts about sneaking off to find the highest balcony in the castle later, and he was almost ready to beg for forgiveness. From anyone, really. He had no right to be picky at this point.

For some reason he couldn't possibly fathom, some expression of infinite mercy and patience beyond mortal pony, his not a date, never could've been a date, why did I ever hope companion for the evening arrived and opened the door for him. Again. Like he should've been doing.

Still unwilling to break character though, he marched forward into the hall and was given one last chance to prove himself worthy.

For some reason he couldn't possibly fathom, some expression of unbounded enthusiasm and excitement beyond mortal pony, a lunatic had launched themselves off the stage and slammed their chin into a cart and catapulted a ridiculously large cake directly... at...

He could see it. He could see exactly how it would play out. The cake coming down, spattering all over that magnificent dress, ruining her mane... no! NO! If nothing else, Ringer could stop this! She could slap him afterwards for grabbing her like that, but he would save her from that cake! It was the absolute least he could do, after mistreating her the whole evening.

Ringer leapt into action, swiftly pulling the mare out of the way, and... finding out he had completely misjudged the trajectory.

He had just pulled her into the path of the cake.

INTO.

With a much louder sproing! Ringer lost what little grip on sanity he'd recovered waiting at the door and began babbling.

"Ew! Uh, uh, stay back! I just had myself groomed!"

After that things became a bit of a blur for the poor actor. There was... shouting? And... and things falling. There was definitely things falling. And animals. Wait, that couldn't have been right, where would animals have come from?

When the dust had settled and he stopped babbling, all Ringer knew was that he'd somehow managed to make it back to his dressing room without being trampled by anyone.

•§•§•§•§•

Ringer nursed his head. After carefully removing the fake horn, he'd spent the next two hours alternating between getting the dye out of his coat and banging his head on the wall.

Now, he just wanted to drown his sorrows at the local donut shop and wake up tomorrow with a massive sugar-hangover.

The bell over the door rang, but was drowned out by the laughter of... of... oh dear Celestia- wait, no she's here too.

Ringer slowly backed out of Pony Joe's, and didn't start whimpering until he has a block away.

•§•§•§•§•

"... and once I got there, no one could tell me where she WAS! A few ponies thought she'd gone to the Gala but that doesn't make ANY sense. Why would anyone who likes parties want to go to the Gala? It'd be like loving the sea and living on a mountain, or loving apples and growing pears. It's just crazy. Still, I met some nice ponies and made some new penpals. Really, Ponyville is just so incredibly friendly! I really must visit it again sometime. Oh, but enough about my night! How was yours, Ringer?"

Ringer just stared up at the prince with hollow eyes, and let out a single, choked sob.

"... Ringer?"

Author's Note

His full name is Dead Ringer, but he's terribly embarrassed by it.

Wouldn't you be, with a first name like Dead?

Rank: Prince - Codename: Blueblood

He was called Prince Blueblood, and he was brushing his mane. It was the evening of the Grand Galloping Gala, after all.

"Prince" indicated that he was the highest ranking unicorn stallion in service, answerable only to the Princesses themselves.

Technically, he outranked the Duchesses and Barons, but the nature of field work and espionage had shifted where the actual power lay in the last few centuries. Information assessment and correlation was far more vital than anything a lone pony could do. He'd already petitioned the Princesses to have the titles updated, but tradition still said that "a Prince of the Realm must go among the ponies"... and so it was that only an active field agent could be Prince.

"Blueblood" signified his specialization; maneuvering through high society and blending in with the upper crust. He'd done his share of wetwork, but he excelled at the soft touch: remembering names, faces, wines.

For the longest time, it had been a post exclusive to unicorns. It was sad but undeniable fact that only recently were the race barriers being cracked; 'oh, earth ponies and pegasi are to be respected, certainly! But they have their place, you know.' A flicker of distaste crossed his face at the thought, but he calmed himself by remembering that society moves ever forward, and there were fewer idiots with opinions on "inherently stronger bloodlines" or other drivel every year.

He couldn't bring himself to hope that he could manage to get a zebra approved as his successor, but he had high hopes for an earth pony cadet he'd been grooming... Blueblood the 53rd might be hornless, and what a day that would be!

Prince Blueblood the 52nd... it was ridiculous. Only unicorns could fall for such a thing! With their obsession with ancestors and lineage, no one batted an eye at more than fifty stallions, many of whom barely looked alike, all sharing the exact same name.

The earth pony division was far more sensible about it. Ponies got to keep their names, for one. Ranks were reflected by familial titles, in a way that made sense. The Granny organized everything, contacts were Cousins, and you could always, ALWAYS rely on a Brother or Sister to watch your flank. With their widespread networks of Clans and Families, they could expect a safehouse in every city and a friendly face at every trainstop, with no one questioning that a pony just happened to "have a relative from around there". The Granny in charge made sure of it, in fact.

Seeing one of their "reunions" in action, and the sheer amount of intel being shared, sifted and all of it in code as family gossip... it made Blueblood proud to be an Equestrian.

The pegasi were the public face of Equestria's forces, even more so than the Royal Guards. Who hadn't heard of the Wonderbolts? There had been a time when Blueblood had envied their straightforward hierarchy and actual names... but that had been a long time ago, and Blueblood wasn't the colt he was then.

Blueblood ran the brush through his mane one last time and steeled himself.

He was Prince Blueblood.
He had his mission.
Tonight was the Grand Galloping Gala.
He would make the Princesses proud.

•§•§•§•§•

"Archduchess!"

"Prince!"

The two unicorns were meeting in the trendiest cafe in Canterlot. Lots of exposure, ponies peering at them from every side, the occasional pop of a flashbulb from the less discrete tabloid photographers...

It put his teeth on edge, but he was a professional and had a role to play.

Prince Blueblood and Archduchess Whistle Wishes placed their orders and got down to gossiping.

"Will we be seeing you at the Gala tonight?" Something's come up. We have a mission for you at the Gala.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Understood. Orders?

"Splendid... are you seeing anyone these days?" You're to meet a mare at the party. Stay close and use your best judgement.

"Oh? Trying to set me up on another blind date?" How dangerous is this expected to be, and what's the description of the contact?

"You know me, just a romantic at heart! But you'll like her, I swear." We don't expect much trouble, but it could get bad. Intel was only able to report that she's a white unicorn.

"Hm! Anyone I know?" Do we know anything more?

"Now now, I don't want to ruin the surprise!" No.

Blueblood smirked and shook his head, not saying anything. Despite a long and glorious history of rough ponies and military forthrightness, there weren't actually any code phrases for the swearing he wanted to do.

"I'll give you a hint, though... she calls herself Rarity and she likes flowers." She'll identify herself as one of the Elements of Harmony and will meet you in the gardens.

Blueblood winked at his handler and sipped his tea. Picking Rarity for the codename was quite clever; no pony in their right mind would dare pretend to be one of the national heroes, and from personal experience he couldn't imagine anyone outside of Canterlot wanting to come to the Gala. The thing was incredibly tedious even for the most dedicated socialites.

"I look forward to meeting her." Acknowledged.

The two ponies nodded to each other and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon amidst ponies none the wiser of what had taken place.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood scanned the garden. He'd spotted a few ponies who might be his contact as he passed through the main hall, but he knew better than to approach any of them outside of the arranged rendezvous spot. That way lay panic, screaming, international incidents and animal stampedes.

So he waited and watched. There! By the roses, mare, unicorn, white coat... normally he'd consider the tiara too much of an attention grabber for this sort of assignment, but then again it was the Gala. One year, he'd seen no less than three mares balancing their dates on their backs for the entire evening; it had been both fashionably baffling and physically impressive. A pony could get away with anything this night.

He made his approach and said the first half of the code. "Well, hello. I am Prince Blueblood."

Without missing a beat, she gave the proper response. "I am... Rarity. Oh my, what a lovely rose."

"You mean... this rose?" With the paranoia and consideration born of years of service in Equestrian espionage, he picked the rose with his mouth rather than his magic. A bit of energy saved now could mean the difference between nine seconds of a force beam or ten. Huh. Odd taste on the stem...

As he started to offer "Rarity" the rose, something clicked and he realized just how badly the evening was going to get. Spicy. Undertones of orange, with a bitter aftertaste. I know this poison.

Jerking the tainted flower away from the mare, he chewed off the rest of the stem. First thing's first; don't put anyone else at risk. Not like I’m going to get any more poisoned at this point. Still, might keep it for evidence... He thought and slipped the evidence into his collar.

A quick look at the mare convinced him that she wasn't an assassin. She hadn't flinched away when he'd started to offer her the rose, and actually seemed hurt when he'd pulled it back. Looking at the bushes, he was sure that only the one rose had been poisoned. Honestly, how was I NOT suspicious of a single rose growing out of a forget-me-not bush... ugh! He realized he hadn't said anything yet, and the mare had to be told if she was going to be of any help.

"Thank you! It goes with my eyes." Since she'd known the sign and countersign phrases, Blueblood hoped she was familiar with the standard SOS phrase for poisoning as well.

•§•§•§•§•

His horn was throbbing. That wasn't a good sign, but it at least confirmed that he was right about what had been coated on the rose. After a quick word to a "waiter" who he'd served with a few years ago in the Griffon Kingdom, Blueblood was sure no other ponies would be getting close to those particular bushes for the rest of the Gala.

Speaking of other ponies... Blueblood was starting to have second thoughts about the mare. "Rarity" didn’t seem to have recognized the SOS phrase, but that wasn’t conclusive. He'd made some small chat with her and slipped in a few code phrases, but her replies could've been pure coincidence or the smooth work of a professional.

They had drifted off the path to a clearing set aside for couples. The lanterns had been purposefully left unlit for now, to encourage a mood of intimacy. It was still more exposed than he liked, but here at least, no one would question the two of them not wishing to be overheard.

As Blueblood grabbed the last cushion and started to offer it to "Rarity," he heard a quiet click. His heart nearly stopped, and before she could move he'd planted himself on the cushion and closed his eyes in concentration. If she said something, he didn't hear it, focused as he was on trying to disarm the bomb he was now sitting on.

Stupid! Sloppy! he berated himself. If I hadn't been positioning it with my mouth, I never would've heard the trigger arming itself. It must be the poison... it's affecting me more than I realized. Why would there only be ONE cushion left in the couple's section? I even thought it seemed heavy as I brought it over!

Blueblood, skilled as he was at multitasking, still had limits. So he continued to criticize himself, do some extremely delicate telekinesis without using his eyes while toxins continued to burn in his blood and completely failed to pay any attention to the mare next to him.

•§•§•§•§•

It hadn't been easy, and using his magic had only made the throbbing in his horn worse, but he'd done it. I haven't had to disarm a bomb I was sitting on since that mission with the author and... and the weird blue... dog... thing...

Eyes closed, breathing through his nose, Blueblood tried to get his thoughts back in order. They'd started to drift after he'd plucked the rose, and it had only gotten worse from using magic. He knew what the poison was, he was sure of it (even if he couldn't remember the name of it just at the moment...) and it would take a few days before it would be fatal, which gave him plenty of time to finish tonight's mission and get the cure. Well, unless... unless... there was something. Something that reacted with the poison, made it much worse. What, though, eluded him at the moment, much like the name of the poison.

I need to figure out this mare. Who is she? If she's not not my contact, I... what? Abandon her? I have to protect her. I have my duty. If she IS my contact... can I trust her? Or is she the threat?

Spying a puddle, Blueblood decided to hit her with a string of code "Rarity" couldn't possibly luck her way through.

"Miss Rarity! Stop!" Standard code for I challenge your identity.

"Oh! Prince Blueblood! How chivalrous..." ... hm. Given the situational context, that was the standard reply for I am your contact and think we're being watched.

"One would hate to slip." I think the mission is getting too dangerous and wish to abort.

"Yes! One certainly would." We are aware of the risks, but believe it's a lone operator. The mission can be salvaged.

"One's cloak should take care of the problem..." Challenge: how committed are you to the mission?

"Oh, of course it will," and with that, she covered the spill. Absolutely.

Blueblood was convinced. It wasn't just the words; the actions were just as important. The act of actually mopping up a puddle in the middle of the floor with a part of her dress... it was the textbook answer to the contextual code. No casual party-goer would ruin their clothes for someone they just met, or even stay with them after being asked to do such a thing. She must be his contact.

He had to trust her.

•§•§•§•§•

The symptoms were definitely getting worse. The throbbing in his horn was seriously disrupting his ability to focus his magic now, he'd lost feeling in his hooves, and his throat was starting to tighten up. Not enough to kill him, that was still days away, but enough to make speaking painful. At least his memory was less muddled. The name of the poison was on the tip of his tongue now...

They'd stopped at a door. Blueblood was following the mare's lead now, but noticed that she was hesitating. He caught her eye and nodded his head at the door. Is this where we need to go?

She nodded back. Affirmative

Blueblood nodded twice, a grim look on his face. Do you expect trouble? Should we rush them?

She scowled and nodded four times, rapidly. Negative. Keep following me lead and stay alert, but do NOT engage.

Blueblood drew back a bit at that. It had been... a long time since he'd not been the lead in the field. I know relationships within the department are frowned upon, but I like this mare!

Lifting his chin in acknowledgement, Blueblood smiled inside as she put on her game face and opened the door. He took point, ready to intercept any attacks for her.

•§•§•§•§•

There had been no attacks, and so they'd moved on and had wandered through the gardens again. Blueblood kept an eye out for any ponies that were sticking a little too close. He knew the faces of most of the ponies attending, from this soirée or that fête, so he was able to focus on newcomers.

They'd finally made their way to a food cart run by one such newcomer, and- oh! An Apple... of course! Of course! Brilliant! Selling food won't raise suspicions about who approaches, she'll talk with everyone... it's a perfect way to gather and distribute intel in the field! Whoever came up with this should be the next Prince!

Blueblood was so impressed by the idea that he missed what the mares had said to each other. Some sign and countersign, with an inquiry on the last known whereabouts of their target, no doubt. As the Apple placed a couple of fritters in front of them, "Rarity" coughed to get his attention. Throat still sore from the poison, he coughed back in acknowledgement.

Apparently not loud enough, as she coughed at him and gave him a pointed look. Not sure what else to do, he coughed louder as well. I heard you already! What do you want from me? Seeing the mares talk again, Blueblood realized that the poison was further along than he’d thought... he couldn't hear what was being said from two feet away. When the Apple held up the fritters though, Blueblood figured it out. I was supposed to take the food! It would look suspicious if we left empty-hooved. Argh, I'm off my game tonight...

Seriously wondering if he'd misidentified the poison after all and considering making a run for the infirmary, Blueblood took a bite of the pastry and felt like he'd gotten a mouthful of wasps and fire. The pain was intense and instantly cleared his mind.

"Bleh! Ugh!" Spitting out the flaky crust, the sugary apples, Blueblood's mind raced.

"Fritters! Dumplings! Caramel apples?!" That was it. That was the connection. He needed to get inside, he had to act quickly. "My royal lips have touched common carnival fare! I'm going to the buffet for some... hors d'oeuvres."

•§•§•§•§•

Hors D'oeuvres.

That was her code name, in the reports. They'd never been able to establish what her name really was, and someone had been feeling puckish when they'd assigned it to her.

She was an extremist, who believed in total pastry disarmament. She'd written multiple manifestos, starting with a demand for bans on cakes, pies, and every other baked good being used in any and all Equestrian conflicts. As the years had passed and the pies continued to fly, Hors D'oeuvres had gotten more radical in her demands. Universal ban on fried foods. Enforced dietary regimens for all citizens. Violent punishment for confectioners and chocolatiers.

The first time she'd blown up a candy store had been when she was 14.

It had only gotten worse from there.

One of her trademarks was a poison that would simulate the symptoms of a bad cold. Headache. Numbness. Sore throat. Stuffy head. The poor pony would either receive a "Get Well Soon" cake from their friends, or when the symptoms went away a day later, would go out and celebrate. And then explode. Twice.

When the poison interacted with pastry, it become violently explosive.

And Blueblood had nearly swallowed a fritter.

She was here, at the Gala. She had to be, to set up the rose, the cushion. She must have been following him all night!

She had to be stopped.

•§•§•§•§•

He'd gotten separated from the mare as he'd searched the halls nearest the gardens, but spotted her again near the atrium set aside for the dance floor. Like a well-oiled machine, like partners who'd been working together for years rather than just the evening, she held the door open so he didn't even have to slow down.

She followed him in, his eyes scanned the crowd and-

•§•§•§•§•

She was yelling at him. What had happened?

His hooves were shaking. He felt weak. He could barely breathe. He only felt like that when... ah. Right.

Reflexes had taken over. Adrenaline fatigue. He'd reacted to the threat without fully processing it. If he'd been hit by that cake, it might have destroyed the entire room, along with everyone in it.

She was still yelling at him. No, she was... coming closer?! Blueblood danced backwards, desperate to not let any of the highly reactive cake touch him.

Mind reeling from an evening of poison, the near-miss with death, the adrenaline rush and the currently swiftly-advancing death, Blueblood finally got flummoxed, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Ew! Uh, uh, stay back! I just had myself groomed!"

It wasn't code; he just had to say something to buy himself some time.

"Afraid to get dirty?!" was the last thing he heard before frosting hit him and felt like fire.

•§•§•§•§•

"Do you have anything else to report?" The Princess looked over the file before her and at the stallion in the hospital bed.

"No, Your Highness." Blueblood hurt all over, but had been told that he'd make a full recovery. He shifted, more uncomfortable about what he was going to ask than any mere physical pain. "Er, may I ask something though, Your Highness?"

"Of course." She smiled at him as if they actually were aunt and nephew, and it felt better than all the painkillers the hospital could offer.

"What happened next? I know I failed the mission, but... was anything salvaged? No one got hurt, did they?"

Celestia closed her eye and let out a small laugh. "Actually, the mission was a success. A few ponies got hurt, but not from anything you failed to do. Aside from missing your contact at the very beginning, everything went about as well as could've been hoped for."

"I- what? If I wasn't supposed to have met the other agent, who was I supposed to meet?"

"A little unicorn by the name of... "Hors D'oeuvres."

"WHAT?!"

"Apparently, she'd gotten in touch with the Agency a day ago and declared that she was going to turn herself in. She’d had an epiphany, wished to see justice done, and would hand herself over to our custody that very evening. However, she'd only do it at the Gala though and refused to negotiate on that point. It was arranged that she'd meet with an agent there, that would be you, and they would assess whether she needed to be escorted or... subdued.

"She had plans of her own, though. She intended to slip you the poisoned rose, then give you some cake in the middle of the biggest, most public event in Canterlot of the year."

"What happened after I got a face full of frosting, then? She didn't escape, did she?"

"No, we managed to capture her in the end... with a bit of luck. Immediately after you were hit, a series of small but harmless catastrophes occurred. There was some property damage, some panic... all sounding much worse than it was. I arrived at that point, and saw you, dazed and covered in cake. Having been informed of the mission earlier, I was able to make some deductions and took over the operation. I teleported you to the infirmary, secured the area, and scried the nearby grounds. I found a white unicorn sitting on top of a nearby hill, cackling about how she'd shown them, finally shown them all. I had a few words with her, at that point." The Princess paused to sip her tea.

Blueblood rested on the pillows and shook his head. Just like that, everything had been resolved better than he could've hoped for. A thought still bothered him, though. "If Hors D'oeuvres was the "Rarity" I was supposed to meet... who did I spend the evening with?"

Celestia's smile shifted slightly, but Blueblood wasn't sure what the new one meant. "Rarity."

"I know! Whoever's in charge of assigning code names needs a vacation. They're getting a bit over the top with some of them, if you ask me. Next thing we know, it’ll be nothing but “Operation: Shadow Explosion” this and “Codename: Diamondhead” that..."

"Oh, that wasn't a question. It was an answer. You spent the night with Rarity."

"... THE Rarity?" His eye twitched.

"As far as I know, there's only one, yes."

"The Element of Generosity? One of the national heroes of Equestria? That Rarity?!" He could hear the heart monitor beeping much faster now.

"Indeed."

"... maybe it would’ve been better if I had exploded after all."

The Princess laughed at that and nuzzled her "nephew". "It's not nearly so bad as you fear. With how much excitement the Elements have been facing, and how she handled herself at the Gala, I was thinking of inviting Rarity to join our little circle of friends. Once she hears about your work… your real work... I'm sure she'll be much more understanding of how the Gala went."

Blueblood could only massage his aching head and hope the Princess was right. She usually was, after all.

They talked for a while more, before some nebulous "matters of state" demanded the Princess return to court. At the last moment, she paused at the door and turned.

"Oh, by the way! It turns out that Hors D'oeuvres' name is actually Garden Wishes."

Blueblood blinked at that bit of news. "Wishes? Like, Archduchess Whistle..?"

"No relation, but yes. An interesting coincidence, don't you agree?"

Blueblood mulled it over. After all the plots and coincidences of last night, what was in a name?

Author's Note

"Whistle Wishes" is another legacy name in unicorn espionage. Like Blueblood, it indicates an area of specialty; in this case, communication and mission assignment. It's all well and good to have skills, but it's better to know where to apply them.

Word choice is very important to the codes Blueblood was using. For instance, if he'd said "It brings out my eyes" instead of "It goes with my eyes" it would've meant "YOU have been poisoned" instead of "I have been poisoned." If he'd mentioned his mane instead of his eyes, it would've meant there was a bomb instead of poison.

Spy-lingo is a very tricky language!

Chaotic Cop-out

Prince Blueblood carefully adjusted his bowtie, making sure it was juuuust right.

“Getting ready for the Gala tonight, hmm?”

“Absolutely! I love going, every year! Meeting new ponies, mingling, sharing stories, the music, the food… ooh! I can’t wait to see all my old friends.” Blueblood stamped his hooves in excitement. Only a little though, since he had to maintain a certain level of royal dignity.

“Hm, hm, yes. So… everyone will be there? Everyone you like, everyone you know, everyone you want to impress and make friends with?”

“Indeed! Why, I’ve even heard from Auntie that the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony will be making an appearance! I can’t wait to thank them for everything they’ve done for Equestria!” Blueblood squinted and carefully smoothed down a stray hair in his mane.

“Reeeeally? Oh, that’ll make this even better!”

“I know! Actual, honest-to-goodness national heroes! Oh, I hope they’ll let me… hang… out… hang on. Who are you?” Blueblood finally turned from his mirror as it dawned on him that there shouldn’t be anyone else in his room. He didn’t normally make a habit of inviting ponies to watch him get ready for a party, after all. “And what are you doing in my AUGH!!”

Towering over the poor prince was an impossibility. Impossible for what it was, and impossible for what it meant. A mish-mash of body parts, mammal, avian, reptile… no. No! The statue! The kingdom!

“Y-y-you! You’re Discord! How did you get free?!”

“Oh, don’t get your cravat in a curl, Princelington. I’m not getting out of my little stone away from stone for another 4 months. Fun fact though: with my Official Chaos Membership Card™, and if I keep one foot back where I’ve been set free, I can poke my nose in any time I want. It’s a little hard to balance, though…” The currently three-legged draconequus hopped towards the cowering unicorn and grinned. “Like I said, don’t worry! I’m not going to be here for long, and I’m going to do you a favor! I’m going to make you, and this Gala, remembered for the rest of history!”

Blueblood stared up at Discord in terror. He’d studied history. He knew the sorts of things that got remembered the longest. “Please… please, no. I don’t want to be a monster! I don’t want to be responsible for the Bloodiest Night Ever! Nooo!”

Discord rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry. Then he blew a bubble. Then he blew a fuse. Once the lights came back on, he reached down and twirled the Prince’s bowtie. “I’m not going to turn you into a monster! No no no no.” A brief look of hope flashed across Blueblood’s face. “I’m going to do MUCH worse than that!” Blueblood cringed as Discord’s smile stretched even wider.

“I am going… to turn you into… a jerk.”

“... wait, what?”

“A jerk! A snob! A boor! A rude, priggish, stuck-up meany-head! Ooh, they’ll be cursing your name until the cows come home!” For a split second, unworldly voices could be heard chanting Iä! Iä! Moothulhu fhtagn.

Blueblood could hardly believe his luck. The old stories had mentioned that Discord was by definition unpredictable, and so sometimes his rewards were worse than his punishments and vice versa, but… really? “I’m not going to grow fangs or claws or hurt anyone? I’m just going to be… impolite?”

Discord nodded his head so quickly it flew off and ricocheted around the room, before landing back on his neck. “Yep! And for that, you’ll be remembered as the greatest monster to ever blight the face Equestria. And don’t think you can make excuses by claiming ‘oh, no, Discord made me do it’ either! After all, I’m still a statue out there, you know. No one would believe you.”

Blueblood exhaled in relief and wiped some sweat from his brow, and Discord noticed.

“Wait, do you think I’m letting you off easy? That I’m exaggerating? I’m completely serious. I’ve had a chance to look around, and you know what I’ve seen? Sympathy, compassion, and endless understanding. Everyone is forgiven, and everyone is befriended.” Discord started counting off on his fingers. “Insane goddesses who tried to take over the kingdom. Insane love-eating bugs who tried to take over the kingdom. Insane mares who find evil artifacts and tried to take over a town. Insane con-artists who tried to take over a farm. Insane diamond dogs who tried to kidnap a pony. Insane dragons who hit puberty and tried to kidnap a pony. Insane dragons who’d want to live near you little squirts. Insane little squirts who were bullying other little squirts. Fun-loving and wacky draconequi who were just stretching their legs.”

Discord paused, counted his fingers again, and shook his paw to get rid of the extras.

“I probably shouldn’t know about a few of those… eh, whatever!” Discord shrugged and poked Blueblood in the head, causing the unicorn to go cross-eyed. “The point is, no matter what nasty thing any of us does, no matter the scale, there’s some pony out there willing to give us the benefit of the doubt. To sympathize and love us, who can see things from our point of view. To give us the chance to explain and say we’re sorry.”

A wicked grin flitted across Discord’s face and out the window. “But not you. You’ll never get that chance. You’re going to do something far, far worse than hurt anyone, or take over the kingdom, or betray your loved ones or abuse and manipulate those around you for your own amusement…

“You will be despised and shunned for the unforgivable crime… of not living up to someone else’s expectations. After all, you never get a second chance to make a first impression!”

Although it wasn’t his usual style, Discord used a light touch and… ugh… restraint. Not a full personality overhaul, just a low-power tweaking. Not even enough to wash out the colors of his mane!

Discord stuck out his tongue and squinted in concentration, making sure all the mental furniture was where he wanted it. “Maybe a little more entitled… a little less empathetic… ooh, alliterative! I like it! A dash of cowardice to round out the evening… and oh, why not? Irrational fear of cakes. Flying cakes! Ideal!”

With a quick ruffle of his mane, Discord shooed the dazed Prince out of his room. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” Discord wiped a tear from his eye. “Ah, the grow up so fast...”

Discord looked around the small room, whistled a few bars of some pretty old song and checked his watch. “Well, I suppose I should get back to the maze, see how Sparkle and her friends are doing. Can’t expect a leg to do the work of an entire draconequus, after all!”

A snap of his claws, a flash of light, a whiff of cinnamon, and the spirit of chaos was gone.

Author's Note

Short, and thin as broth. Not the chapter I was hoping for, but I was having trouble getting back into the flow of writing and needed to do SOMETHING to bust the block. Hopefully I can get back to slapstick and hallucinations now.

Ziox: now with Lapatithamine

The doctor stepped to the side as the stream of green hit the wall with a heavy, wet smack.

Slowly, with growing horror, the doctor traced the sagging streamer from where it stuck to the wall, across the room, and to the nose of the poor stallion it had come from.

“... gesundheit.”

“Dank yew.”

“Well, there’s no denying it; your allergies are MUCH worse this year, Blueblood.” The patient gave his doctor a miserable look, a raised eyebrow, and said nothing.

“Ahem. Yes. Well. We’ve actually been seeing a lot of this, this year. Not nearly as bad as yourself, but many ponies have been coming in with highly aggravated allergies. You have nothing to worry about, this year the earth ponies and the pegasi have been working on some project together and the pollen count has been abnormally high. Next year should be back to normal, and your allergies along with it.”

Blueblood stopped trying to cut through the tether of mucus with a tissue and gave Dr. Booster Shot a pleading look. “Is dere anyding you can do for tonight, dough? It’s da Grand Galloping Gala! I can’t miss dat and leave Auntie to face it all alone! And I can’t go now and spend the whole night sneezing on everyone! I mean, it would be funny, yes, but also terribly rude!”

Booster Shot rubbed her chin. “Well… normally, there’d be nothing we could do for you. As luck would have it though, a new antihistamine just came out that I think might work. The side effects would normally keep me from prescribing it except for the most extreme cases, but... for one evening, I think it’ll be fine.”

Blueblood gave his physician a deeply grateful look. Before he could say the words though, another sneeze seized him and only the reflexes born from years of medical practice saved her from a faceful of phlegm.

“... let’s get you that prescription. Right now.”

“Sniffff. Yes, please.”

•§•§•§•§•

Back in his room, Blueblood hunched over a steaming mug of tea and read the bottle of his new medicine.

“Let’s see… Ziox: now with Lapatithamine? Huh. Odd name. Okay, so… ‘Do not operate heavy machinery after taking. Do not perform complex magic after taking. Do not mix with alcohol or other medications. Do not exceed physician prescribed dosage. Side effects may include, but are not limited to, the following: dizziness, drowsiness, dry mouth, nausea, confusion, clumsiness, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, headache, loss of appetite, swelling of the abdomen, ringing in the ears, hives, hot flashes, cold flashes, restlessness, nervousness, excitement, trouble sleeping, nightmares, blurred vision, tunnel vision, muscle spasms, tingling in the extremities…”

Blueblood read on for another few minutes.

“… visual hallucinations, auditory hallucinations, temporary partial hearing loss, temporary complete hearing loss, temporary inability to use magic, temporary inability to sing, temporary inability to dance, spontaneous changes in mane color, spontaneous discordification, compulsive gambling, restless leg syndrome, roving eye syndrome and wandering heart syndrome but hey, at least you’ll be able to breathe again’? In dear sweet Auntie’s name, why would anyone ever take-”

At that moment, something in the Prince’s nasal cavity decided to come loose and make a break for it down his throat. Several minutes of gagging and hacking later, the Prince was ready to risk it.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood cantered through the entry halls of the palace, breathing clearer than he’d ever breathed before! His nose, his throat… they’d never felt so clean! It was like he could smell everything now! In fact… yes! He had to head out to garden and smell all the flowers now. All of them!

A gentle breeze picked up, and Blueblood found himself lost in his newfound nasal insight; the scents of the flowers, the aromas of the food, the faint tickle of perfumes and colognes. Before this night, had he ever truly known his own nose?

I could stand out here and just sniff things for the whole evening! But... no, no. I’m here for Auntie. I’ll do a little mingling, then join her on reception duty. Between the two of us, we should be able to say hello to everyone and give her some time to enjoy the Gala. A flash of white in the dark of the garden caught his eye.

There, delicately sniffing one of the roses, was a radiant vision. Her alabaster coat and violet mane caught the eye and held it; her carriage cried of refinement and her coiffure was simply magnifique... this was a mare to know.

Trying not to appear too eager, Blueblood approached the mare and introduced himself. “Well, hello. I am Prince Blueblood.” Despite himself, he couldn’t stop smiling like a foal and his head was practically swimming just from being this close to her.

With a voice that seemed almost a song, she introduced herself before one particular flower caught her eye. “Oh my, what a lovely rose!”

“You mean… this rose?” Blueblood bent down and picked the blossom with his mouth, a brazenly forward gesture for a unicorn, and for a mare he’d just met. With her dress and coat, this would look striking next to her-

Blueblood blinked.

The mare he’d been talking to had left without a word before he’d had a chance to offer her the rose. Smiling at him now was a new mare, one with a fabulous dress, a teal coat and lime-green mane in a coiffure that was simply magnifique. Blueblood froze halfway into giving her the rose, shocked at how close he’d come to offending her with such a clashing addition to her ensemble.

Thinking quickly, the Prince jerked the rose back and fumbled for a reason he’d been holding the flower. ’I was going to give this to someone else’ would just be crass, after all…

“Thank you! It goes with my eyes.” Blueblood smiled and nodded. Good save!

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood was starting to get worried. Every mare he’d spent the evening with so far had run off after ten minutes without even so much as a goodbye! He considered himself lucky that there always seemed to be a new mare ready to be seen with him, so at least he wasn’t lonely… he just wished they’d stick around for a while and let him get to know them! Or at least let him know what he was doing wrong. He discretely huffed into his hoof again and sniffed, but it still smelled minty fresh to him.

Sighing inside and trying to keep a polite smile on outside, Blueblood plopped down on the cushion. Just now, as he’d been about to suggest they share a seat in the garden and stargaze for a bit, his latest companion had vanished like all the rest. There was a new mare as well, with a subdued neon pink coat and an electric gray mane, but as brash as he was, the Prince couldn’t very well invite a mare he hadn’t even said a word to to cuddle up next to him. He had to admit through, her coiffure was magnifique.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood blinked.

When did Auntie have a swimming pool installed in the main hall? And why aren’t there any lifeguards? At least the mare from the start of the evening had rejoined him, looking sweeter than ever. While all the other mares had worn dresses clearly inspired by hers, she pulled it off with much greater elan. Plus, her coiffure was still magnifique!

Blueblood gasped when he realized that she wasn’t looking where she was going, and was headed straight for the pool! With a cry of her name and a hoof to block her path, Blueblood exclaimed “Stop!”

Suddenly realizing where she was and what had nearly happened, she looked up at him. “Oh! Prince Blueblood! How chivalrous…”

“One would hate to slip.” That was close… she could’ve fallen in and hurt herself… ruined her mane… or even dissolved! Blueblood smiled down at the marshmallow pony at his side.

“Yes! One certainly would…” She snuggled up to him, clearly grateful for having been saved from what would surely have been a sticky end.

Blueblood looked around, but the pool stretched on as far as he could see. There was no way they could walk around it before the Gala ended, and although he was enjoying her company, Blueblood had a duty to at least say hello to Auntie Celestia sometime tonight. If only we had a boat, or a raft or something… he thought, before noticing the suspension bridge his date was wearing as a cloak. Perfect! “One’s cloak should take care of the problem…”

“Oh, of course it will.” It was the work of only a moment before the permits were signed, the plans approved, the heavy machinery rented and the bridge erected over the enormous expanse of water.

Blueblood trotted along, eager to introduce Auntie to the mare who was swiftly proving to be the filly of his dreams.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood blinked. Was that… singing?

He looked around, trying to find the source of the music or least see if anyone else was hearing it. No luck on either count, and he noticed that he’d lost his date again. The new mare with the sunset-colored coat and the nebula-colored coiffure (so magnifique!) looked at him just as they reached the door.

The Pony Pokey, huh? Catchy! Blueblood couldn’t help himself and started bobbing his head in time with the song… and his companion started bobbing as well! Giddy with a new song and someone to dance with, he followed the singer’s instructions.

You tilt your head in~
You tilt your head out~
You tilt your head in~
Then you shake it all about!
You do the Pony Pokey even though you date’s a- hey!

Blueblood stopped bopping along and snorted. What a rude song! If that’s how it’s going to be, I think we ARE better off without… hmph!

•§•§•§•§•

It had been a long and grueling journey. He’d met many allies and grown to love them all, even though to a one they had all left him far, far too soon. One in particular, the first, filled his thoughts and sent his heart aflutter, and he harbored the private hope that when his quest was complete he might find her again.

For now, he was following his most recent guide through these strange lands… a mare with an A♭ coat and a cosine mane, who said she knew of a place to eat in this surprisingly lush wasteland. He knew she could be trusted, since her dress was like that of all his allies, and an omen such as that could not be ignored. That her coiffure was magnifique only further cemented his faith in her.

As she made arrangements with the Lady of the Oasis, Blueblood closed his eyes and focused. Attack could come at any time, and if he was not perfectly balanced, it would mean doom for them all. The very worst kind of doom! An off-kilter, unbalanced doom!

After several long hours - nay, days - nay, weeks! - nay, moments of negotiation, his guide returned and spoke to him in her peculiar low and throaty dialect.

“A-hem.” I have secured our provisions, but we should not tarry. It is not safe here.

“He-hem.” I cannot thank you enough for this. Yea, I would be a bleached skeleton, covered with ivy without you to save me.

“Ah-HEM.” Are you sure you cannot give up your quest and stay with me? I could teach you the ways of the garden, and we could be happy here.

“He-hrm!” If I were to give up here, I would be unworthy of you. No, I must see this through to the end, and pay homage to the Aunt of Light and Fire. I will never forget you, though. The wanderer returned to his meditations, until the food was presented to him.

Mmm… fritters… heh, fritters sounds like critters. I’m a critter. Wait… you are what you eat. I’m eating fritters. I’M GOING TO TURN INTO A FRITTER!! Is that like a clown? I’ll be a carnival clown fritter pony! Are they even ponies? I don’t want to live in a tent! In a panic, Blueblood spat out the deadly trap.

"Bleh! Ugh! Fritters! Dumplings! Caramel apples?! My royal lips have touched common carnival fare! I'm going to the buffet for some…” Think think think, what can save you, you can’t eat a critter now, that could turn you into anything, what would- ah! Pony, horse, hors… “...hors d'oeuvres."

Legs still weak from the near brush with disaster, Blueblood managed to control his shaking and strike out for the direction of the main hall.

•§•§•§•§•

He KNEW it! They were out to get him! He’d just dodged one pastry bullet to walk into a pastry artillery strike!

With reflexes honed by years on the front lines of the Baked Bad Battles of Buckingham, Blueblood grabbed the marshmallow pony next to him and intercepted the incoming ICing-BM.

His relief was short-lived though, as his boon companion promptly turned on him and started growling. Oh no! There must have been evil (or possibly apples) in that cake! The combination of frosting and evil (or possibly apples) is well known to turn marshmallow ponies into unstoppable berserkers!

As she started stalking towards him, Blueblood looked around frantically, searching for anything that might possibly save him.

Nothing.

No allies. No conveniently discarded nets or smoke bombs. No hastily scribbled words of wisdom from past adventurers. In fact, the world had shrunk down to just him and the marshmallow mare with the fabulous dress and the coiffure that was… magnifique...

As she reared back to deliver a killing blow, Blueblood said the words that he hoped would reach her, and touch the pure and shining spirit that was still in there, covered though it was by frosting and evil (or possibly apples).

“Ew! Uh, uh, stay back! I just had myself groomed!”

She paused. Blueblood held his breath. Had it worked? Was she fighting from within, touched by their mutual appreciation for personal upkeep and appearance?

“Afraid to get dirty? Blblblblblb!!!” were the last words Blueblood heard before being blinded by flying cake and going into a catatonic shock as he believed his limbs were turning into dough.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood was woken up by the sound of moaning.

It was a couple of minutes before he realized he was the one moaning.

Forcing himself to sit up, he looked around and smacked his lips, trying to get the wretched taste out of his mouth.

I’m… in my room? What day is it? What happened? I… I remember going to the doctor… and I can breathe now, so something must’ve worked… Blueblood started to tense up. That’s all. That’s all I can remember. Oh, no, no no NO! What happened?! What did I do?! Why can’t I remember anything?! I… I need to talk to someone! I need help! I need “AUNTIE!!”

Celestia poked her head in through the bedroom door and peered at her hyperventilating nephew with a mixture of concern and a soupçon of disappointment. “Yes, Blueblood? What is it?”

Blueblood pulled the covers up to his chin and let out a small whimper. “I’m confused and I’m scared and I think I really really need a hug right now, please…”

Clearly not what she expected, Celestia hesitated only a second before swiftly going to Blueblood’s side and embracing the shivering unicorn. Nuzzling him and whispering reassurances that he was safe now, Celestia eventually managed to calm him down. “Blueblood, at some point we’re going to have to discuss your behavior during the Gala last night. Not now, of course, but when you’re feeling better and-”

Blueblood let out a moan and buried his face in her neck. “Mphts mhht my mps aphmph uph~!”

“Er, Blueblood? Would you mind repeating that? And please, remember to enunciate.” Celestia brushed his mane out of his eyes and smiled down at him.

Taking a deep breath, Blueblood said slowly and clearly, “That’s what I was afraid of.” He looked up at his aunt, lip trembling. “I don’t remember anything about last night! I didn’t hurt anyone, did I? Ohhh, I must have ruined the Gala for everyone! I’m sorry, Auntie! I never meant to! I just, I just, I- I..!” The prince burst into tears and buried his face in Celestia’s neck again.

Celestia raised an eyebrow at that. “You mean to say that you have no recollection of… any of it? Nephew, what happened to you?”

“Sniff… I… I wanted to go the Gala like always, and, you know, keep you company, but my allergies were really bad this year, so, so, so I went to the doctor and got some medicine and I swear, I did NOT mix it with anything or drink anything or… or… or anything! I swear!”

Celestia had spotted the medicine bottle in question and was just starting to read the list of side effects when Blueblood stopped talking. “Oh, Blueblood… you know I enjoy our time together, but… this? You should’ve stayed in bed and rested, not risked all this, just for me.” She leaned down and nuzzled Blueblood again. “Now, you stay here and rest up. I’ll have some breakfast sent up, and you can stop worrying. Things went badly, it’s true, but no one got hurt and that’s the important thing. We can talk about it when you feel up to it.”

Blueblood sniffled one last time and gave a timid smile. “Thank you, Auntie. I’ll make it up, I swear.”

•§•§•§•§•

“... and THEN, you said ‘I just had myself groomed!’”

“Oh, NO.” Blueblood buried his face in his hooves, mortified beyond measure (but also holding back a snicker or two). “I must’ve been unbearable! Ugh… now I know why they were leaving every ten minutes. I’m going to have to write sooo many apologies…”

Celestia stopped giggling and tilted her head. “What do you mean by ‘they,’ nephew?”

“All the mares I offended, Auntie. I still don’t remember much about the Gala, but I have the strongest recollection of driving off just a parade of mares. After about ten minutes, I’d look away and they’d vanish without a word. There was always another to take their place, but it was about as regular as clockwork.” Blueblood furrowed his brow in concentration. “They all had similar dresses and manecuts… maybe they were related? Or from the same school?”

“Nephew, you may want to brace yourself…”

“Auntie?”

“There was only one mare, nephew.”

Blueblood stared up at her, his eyes slowing shrinking to pinpricks. “... no. NO. I did all that to… to ONE mare? But that’s just… and I..!” Blueblood closed his eyes and groaned. “Well, at least I only have to write one apology then… was it someone I know? It must’ve been, if they put up with me for the whole affair...”

“Actually, nephew, she was new to Canterlot. A dressmaker by the name of Rarity…”

“Rarity? Like the- no. No, you can’t mean… Oh, come ON! THE Element of Generosity?! I did all that to… to…” Blueblood buried his head in his hooves once more. After a few minutes he peeked out at the Princess. “Well, on the bright side, maybe all this will convince Auntie Luna to get out more. She can’t possibly think she’s still the worst member of the royal family, now.”

Celestia nuzzled her nephew and smiled. “Yes, yes, you’ve reclaimed your title of ‘Most Dastardly Royal,’ nephew.”

Blueblood harrumphed and stuck his nose in the air at that. “I worked hard to earn that title!”

•§•§•§•§•

Standing in front of the window, watching the storm, a young colt rubbed his hooves together.

”Soon… all will know the name… of BLUEBLOOD! Mwa ha ha ha ha!!!”

He continued to cackle as lightning flashed and thunder boomed, a carefully orchestrated counterpoint to a totally serious and dramatic scene.

The pegasus he’d paid to ensure the thunder and lightning stuck her head in after ten minutes to see if he was done laughing yet, and if she could go home.

•§•§•§•§•

“I don’t know if changing the name of every Main Street in every city to Blueblood Avenue was really that dastardly, nephew. I mean, you even filled out all the forms and had all the petitions signed. Impressive work for a twelve year-old, but…”

Celestia paused as Blueblood looked up at her, lip trembling in a most adorable pout. She rolled her eyes and smiled, saying “I mean, it was terribly wicked of you, and a most clever conspiracy, nephew. None of us saw it coming.”

Blueblood beamed, reassured that he was, in fact, still the Worst Royal Pony. He sighed as his thoughts turned back to Luna, though. “I do hope we can convince Auntie Luna to come out of her shell…” A thought struck him, and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “After all, all she did was try to bring about eternal night. I may have turned one of the Elements of Harmony off of stallions forever!”

Celestia shared a small laugh at that, and ruffled his mane. “All stallions, forever, nephew? Are you sure you’re not overestimating your impact?”

Blueblood puffed up his chest and thrust out his chin. “Auntie, please. This is me we’re talking about.”

He managed to actually keep a straight face for 20 seconds before breaking down in laughter.

“Aaah… seriously though, Auntie. After I write a very thorough, and very sincere apology to Rarity, I might ask you to banish me to the moon for a month or so. Depending on how forgiving Rarity is, you know.”

“We’ll see, nephew.”

Author's Note

For some reason, I now really like the idea that it's a actually a Royal Family tradition to go mad with power at least once (for varying levels of madness and power).

For instance, there wasn't a Hearts & Hooves Day until Cadence went mad one year and tried to hook everyone up.
Eventually, Twilight's going to institute National Reading Month, and yea, it shall be glorious.

Blueblood's Just This Shy, You Know?

There was a knock on the door, and Blueblood’s head jerked up, startled, nearly snapping the quill he’d been using.

Who would be knocking on his door? No one ever knocked on his door! That was one of the things he liked about his office - it was too far from the main halls to ever be accidentally approached, and just far enough away that any pony who had business with him found it easier to send a message by courier instead. Even the couriers didn’t knock. If it was between 2 and 5, they’d just come in, and if it wasn’t, then they’d drop the message through the slot.

Not that Blueblood wasn’t in his office outside of those hours, of course, he just... found it soothing to only have to talk to other ponies at specifically scheduled times.

There was another knock on the door, and Blueblood bit his lip. In the steadiest voice he could manage, he called out, “W-who is it?”

“It’s me, nephew. I was hoping we could discuss something.”

Blueblood’s eyes brightened, and felt the tension that had been building in his throat drain away. “Auntie! Of course, of course, come in!”

Blueblood bustled about, tidying the stacks of maps and notes on his desk, discretely throwing away the remains of the lunch from hours ago that he hadn’t finished and otherwise trying to make his office presentable as Celestia settled into the cushion in front of his desk. Pausing long enough to give her a quick nuzzle, Blueblood hurried back to his seat and beamed at her and waited to hear what was on her mind.

“Nephew, I have heard that you had declined your invitation to the Grand Galloping Gala. I was hoping I could convince you to reconsider.”

As soon as he’d heard the words “Grand Galloping Gala” Blueblood had started fussing with the ink pots and quills before him. “Oh, er… I don’t know, Auntie. I mean, there’s just so much work to do, after all. I need to check all the maps for consistency, make sure the royal surveyors all received the memo about the latest revision to section 17 of the zoning regulations, and there’s a proposal for this new type of paper that doesn’t fade as quickly in the sun, which, you know, would be saving us money in the long run but it has to be tested and then there’s the feasibility studies of bits saved versus cost of reprinting everything or opting to phase it in slowly, and-” A hoof over his mouth stopped him from continuing.

“Nephew. Blueblood. You know I’m proud of the work you do, and admire your dedication to your post… but I’m starting to worry about you! Ever since Twilight left, you hardly speak to anyone. You rarely leave your office, you have your meals brought in, you conduct almost all of your business through correspondence…”

Blueblood looked down and chewed his lip. “I haven’t… I haven’t been avoiding everyone.” He perked up and said brightly, “In fact, I’ve actually been sharing meals with Auntie Luna as of late!”

•§•

It was a little after midnight.

Aside from the guards and a few ponies in the kitchen, there were only two ponies awake in the castle, and they were sharing a table in the dining room.

Princess Luna, Steward of the Night Sky, was taking a short break from her duties to have what would be lunch for a pony with a more usual schedule.

Prince Blueblood, Royal Cartographer for the Equestrian Throne, was having a midnight snack after having finished his work for the day and before retiring for the night.

As usual, they had exchanged greetings upon meeting.

“Auntie.”

“Nephew.”

With no need for formality, they sat wherever they wished at the enormous banquet table. This was usually on the same side, and a few seats apart from each other.

When their meals arrived, they ate in silence.

Having only a small snack, Blueblood would normally finish first and would then politely excuse himself.

“Auntie.”

“Nephew.”

•§•

Blueblood smiled up at Celestia, clearly proud of how social he’d been. Celestia, for her part, tilted her head slightly and said nothing for a few moments.

“I know you’re a grown stallion, Blueblood, and can make your own decisions. I will not order you to come to the Gala, but I would consider it a favor if you’d think it over again. You’ve grown into a fine young stallion; you shouldn’t hide yourself away.”

Blueblood tapped his hooves together and couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “I… I’ll think about it, Auntie. I promise.”

Celestia gave a small smile at that, and to Blueblood it felt like a ray of sunshine, just for him.

“Thank you, nephew. That’s all I ask.” Her smile grew a fraction larger and a twinkle came into her eye. “Actually, if you do end up going, I also ask that you remember to groom yourself. I’ve never seen a pony who forgets to brush their mane as much as you.”

With a tinkling laugh, the Princess of the Sun left the room, and a lightly blushing prince.

•§•§•§•§•

It wasn’t that Blueblood didn’t like other ponies. Not at all! If it were up to him, he’d have liked nothing better than to get to know more ponies and do… things with them. Hang out? Go to parties? Play… hoofball? That was what friends did, right?

And that, in a nutshell, was the problem. Blueblood liked other ponies; he just had no idea what to do around them.

Blueblood liked maps. You knew where you were with a map! You could find landmarks, determine which way was North, plot a route to wherever you wanted to go… maps were easy, if you knew how to read them.

Ponies were... confusing.

Still, if growing up under Celestia’s tutelage and alongside Twilight Sparkle had taught him nothing else, it was that if you were confused about something… research!

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood hadn’t had to visit the Royal Library for quite some time, ever since he’d finally collected copies of his own of all the texts necessary for his duties as Royal Cartographer. Being able to look up everything from the comfort of his office, without having to talk to a single other pony, it was just so… convenient!

Yes. Convenient.

Unfortunately, while all of his books were about fun and exciting things like maps, geography and how to draw to scale accurately, he’d completely neglected to get his hooves on any about social interaction. Social dynamics, and several treatises on what the best mix of residential and business zoning were, yes, but nothing about social interaction. Still, Blueblood wasn’t worried. He had a plan, this time!

Quietly, he placed the note he’d spent all afternoon drafting on the librarian’s desk and waited to be noticed.

•§•

It was twenty minutes later, when she’d finished cataloguing the pile of returned books, that the librarian looked up and noticed the white unicorn standing by the desk. “Oh! Hello there. How can I help you?”

The unicorn seemed startled by being addressed and actually took a step back. With a clear effort of will, he kept from bolting and without saying anything or getting any closer, used his magic to lift up a slip of paper that was on the desk.

Card Catalogue looked from the note to the nervously smiling stallion, shrugged, and adjusted her glasses.

“Hello I am looking for the very best book you have on manners the kind very fancy ponies like Princess Ce the Princesses would use can you tell me where to find it or if you could please write it down that would be even better thank you”

Catalogue peered over her glasses at the poor colt, who had the same strained smile on but was now sweating and eyeing the exit as if afraid a portcullis would slam down at any second and trap him inside with a fierce and pony-eating librarian.

Raising an eyebrow but not saying a word, she quickly wrote down a title, location, and some directions on the back of the note and slid it across the desk.

Looking the tiniest bit more relaxed and far more grateful than seemed appropriate, the unicorn snapped up the note and bobbed his head in thanks.

Card Catalogue almost wished him luck, but caught herself at the last minute and just waved goodbye instead.

•§•

Perfect! Flawless! That wasn’t hard at all. With enough preparation, maybe he could handle the Gala after all.

•§•§•§•§•

Actually checking out the book had been an ordeal, but since the alternative would’ve been to try and read it in the library when a pony could wander in at any moment and just start talking to him, well..!

Far better to suffer the line for check out and then dash for his office than try to focus with that worry gnawing at the back of his mind. No choice at all, even.

Once safely back in his office, with the door securely closed behind him, Blueblood slipped the book out of his saddlebag.

“Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette for Inexperienced Up-&-Comers...” Blueblood puffed on the cover to blow the rest of the dust off. “Ooh, it’s even got a picture of Auntie Celestia on the cover! This must be the best book on manners! Chapter 1: Deportment, Carriage and Posture - which is right for you?”

Blueblood read quietly for a few minutes until he couldn’t resist any more. From habit too old to break, he peered around and made sure no one was watching, and then quickly flipped ahead several pages, scanning as he went.

“... aww. I was hoping it would have little cartoons, like ‘Goofus & Gallop’... ah, well.” Blueblood sighed and went back to the page he had flipped away from.

•§•§•§•§•

He was ready; he could do this. He WAS ready. He could DO this!

In the days leading up to the Gala, he had read the book over and over, testing himself until he knew what to do in every situation and every scenario. He knew how to walk, how to hold himself, what food to eat, what words to say. Blueblood knew every footnote of Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette by heart and tonight, at the Grand Galloping Gala, he would prove himself as the best behaved Prince ever!

Just… in a minute or two. After he got some fresh air from the gardens. It was stuffy in the entry hall, and he didn’t want to be in the way of all of the ponies arriving, and it certainly wasn’t because he was trying to avoid them or anything!

After half a minute of staring at a hedge with his back to the other guests and breathing into a paper bag, Blueblood felt collected enough to start socializing. Well, mingling. Well… making eye contact.

He didn’t want to come off as too forward, after all.

•§•§•§•§•

After just five minutes of not bolting every time a pony looked like they were going to take a step in his direction, Blueblood felt he was ready for the next step.

It was time… to talk to someone.

Looking around, Blueblood spied a unicorn mare with a striking purple mane not too far away. She looked to be appreciating the roses, and more importantly, seemed to be by herself.

Steeling his nerves, Blueblood went over the appropriate sections of Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette as he approached.

Chapter 5: Greetings and Introductions… Introductions are the cornerstone of good manners. When meeting a pony for the first time, one should be pleasant, calm, and not overly familiar. If one is not being presented by another, it is appropriate to state one’s own name; it should be said clearly though, without murmuring or mumbling. Such affectations are to be frowned upon.

Blueblood had spent an hour before bed, every night for the last week, saying the words in front of a mirror, and so it was with practiced ease and not even the hint of a quaver in his voice, that he was able to say, “Well, hello. I am Prince Blueblood.”

He couldn’t stop grinning! That had been even easier than he’d thought it would be!

The mare demurely introduced herself, before drawing his attention to the flower she’d been sniffing. “Oh my, what a lovely rose!”

“You mean… this rose?” Blueblood was certain he knew how to handle this situation. It had been covered quite clearly in chapter 5 of Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette.

Sometimes, especially if one is associated with the Host of the party, guests may present a pony with a token or small gift. In such an event, the proper response is to thank the giver, and mention some aspect of it specifically to demonstrate one’s appreciation. However, a pony should not be over-enthusiastic with their gratitude, lest they seem materialistic or greedy. Displaying the token in a position of prominence is an acceptable demonstration of especially deep-felt gratitude.

As he deftly placed the rose where it would be seen by every pony he met for the rest of the evening, Blueblood hoped she’d appreciate that. “Thank you! It goes with my eyes.”

•§•§•§•§•

They’d been strolling through the grounds for about an hour, calmly chatting and watching the other guests, even joining a few discussions briefly before moving on. Blueblood was amazed! He had never felt this comfortable around another pony before; even Twilight still made him skittish at times, and Auntie just didn’t count. She was Auntie after all!

In the course of their wandering they’d arrived at a side-garden, filled with couples chatting and cushions to rest on. Blueblood hesitated for a moment, before remembering the appropriate section of the book.

Chapter 12: Seating, Sitting and Circumstances… Seating arrangements can be difficult waters to navigate for the inexperienced up-&-comer; age, status, connections to the Host and connections to the Crown… all can affect where and when a pony is seated.

In all cases, however, it is considered rude to take a seat before the pony ahead of you has. To do so is to disregard and disrepect the choices of the Host. No one likes a presumptuous pony, after all!

Likewise, not taking your seat in a timely fashion is another faux pas to avoid. The longer you remain standing, the longer you are forcing those behind you to stay on their hooves.

So remember: once the proper order of seating has been determined, set yourself down at the appropriate moment in a timely manner. Don’t leave your fellow guests standing around, waiting on you!

Blueblood nodded to himself and grabbed a pillow. He was older, he had a royally appointed office, he was close to the Hostess of the Gala and just as close to the Princess (that they were the both Auntie helped). According the the tables he’d drawn up after reading chapter 12 for the first time, unless she was a hero of the realm and had personally saved the life of the Princess, he should be seated first.

Not wanting to keep the mare on her hooves for a moment longer, Blueblood sat down as quickly as his blossoming grasp of decorum would allow.

He did wonder for a moment whether he should have gotten a cushion for her as well, but the book hadn’t covered that and he was… hesitant (not afraid, hesitant) to deviate too far from what it specifically laid out as proper or not.

•§•§•§•§•

Walking back into the main hall, Blueblood felt his heart racing. This was hardly new for the Prince, especially as he approached a large group of ponies, but something about this time felt different.

He’d begun to notice it back in the garden, after the mare had found a seat for herself. She’d gotten quiet, and Blueblood never knew what to say, so they’d just sat there for a while, not saying a word, surrounded by the sounds of other ponies’ conversations. Eventually, she’d started smiling again, so he’d smiled back and… that was all. They sat under the stars and smiled and just looked at each other.

Strangely, after all the time he’d already spent around her, for some reason that made his heart pound.

Even stranger was how he didn’t mind.

Normally, when he was around other ponies, it felt like there was a bird in his ribcage, desperate to get out, to escape... but this felt like the bird was singing.

Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette hadn’t had anything to say about birds singing in your chest, so Blueblood just smiled and said nothing and desperately hoped that he wasn’t doing something wrong just by sitting there.

When she’d mentioned how it was getting a little chilly and suggested they go back inside, Blueblood agreed in an instant. The idea of the crowds and being seen and talking and all the rest of it sent his heart racing in the old familiar beat of anxiety, but he’d welcomed it. He had known that pulse ever since he was a little colt, knew it like a life-long neighbor. He knew what it meant, and what to do about it.

He didn’t understand this new beat, and it scared him. It made his hooves tingle as they walked next to each other, it made him want to run away, it made him want to follow in her hoofsteps all night… it made him want to smile.

Blueblood was so wrapped up in thinking about hearts and hooves that they’d nearly stepped in the spilled drink before he noticed it. With a cry and without a thought, he blocked her from setting one dainty hoof in the puddle.

For a moment they were frozen in that tableau and it wasn’t until she’d said, “Oh! Prince Blueblood!” that he realized he still had his hoof pressed against her chest. With a faint blush that he hoped no one could see, he quickly lowered his leg. As his mind raced, going through Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette for what to do in this situation, he failed to hear her last two words…

Chapter 17: Emergencies and Opportunites… While no pony, Guest or Host, would ever wish for trouble to arise, nearly any emergency can be transformed into an opportunity to demonstrate one’s refinement and grace. At the most extreme, a fire breaking out can be a chance to demonstrate the bravery and courage of all in fighting the fire and not panicking.

More typically, if one has left home without a hoofkerchief (normally a tragic faux pas, as covered in Chapter 3), a pony may offer the use of theirs, demonstrating their generosity, and opening the door for one to express their gratitude in return.

To simply draw attention to a problem is rude; to have a solution on hoof is considerate. With practice and a deft touch, one may even allow another the honor of offering the solution. Giving a pony an opportunity to shine and be helpful is never a bad thing!

*The author wishes to stress that they do not suggest or recommend trying to arrange such thingsdeliberately. In small cases, they will make you seem forgetful or ill-mannered; in large cases, mentally-ill or felonious.

Blueblood smiled at the mare and knew exactly how to handle this. Smoothly, he said, “One would hate to slip.”

With a titter, she replied, “Yes! One certainly would.”

Not sure if she needed more prompting, he decided to err on the side of caution. “One’s cloak should take care of the problem…”

“Oh, of course it will.”

There was a moment when he was afraid he’d have to be more overt, but then he saw something click in her eyes.

As he merrily trotted across the covered puddle, Blueblood felt almost entirely pleased with himself. Surely, every pony in the room had seen her cover the puddle with her cloak, and that was one of the classic gestures of good manners, wasn’t it? He’d given her a chance to let everyone see how refined she was, right? That was a good thing, right?

In the back of his mind however, a small part of him quietly wondered why it felt like the book was wrong this time.

•§•§•§•§•

It felt like he’d swallowed something alive, and it was bouncing around in his stomach. Something alive, and with sharp little teeth. Blueblood felt guilty.

He was doing what the book said, and the book knew what was good manners. That meant he had good manners, right?

… so why didn’t it feel like it was right?

He stole a glance at the mare beside him, and almost sighed (Chapter 9: Sighs, Snorts and Breathing - just don’t.) That was why.

She was smiling less; almost exclusively when she saw him looking at her. Her conversation had become more clipped, more formal. Her head wasn’t held quite as high, and while not gone, her sparkle was dimmed. She was unhappy, and it was his fault, and Blueblood had no idea what he’d done or how to fix it.

They’d only been in the main hall for a few more minutes after the puddle incident before she’d suggested they go back outside. Something about the light hurting her eyes. Blueblood nodded and said nothing, following her lead and feeling painfully hollow.

The door to the gardens had been closed by this point, since the sun had set some time ago and the night had brought more than a little chill with it. Unable to bring himself to talk, Blueblood nodded his head towards the door, offering to let her go through first. Even he didn’t need a book to tell him ‘Fillies First,’ after all.

She seemed to appreciate that, and a smile flashed across her face. She nodded back, and Blueblood recognized it for the gesture it was, from Chapter 20: Rituals and Standard Practices.

No pony of good breeding accepts an offering the first time. Food, gifts, invitations… a pony declines once to show humility and not appear greedy, and allow the giver to rescind the offer gracefully or emphasize their generosity.

Blueblood, stomach knotted and a nerves frayed for reasons he didn’t understand, frowned and jerked his head to the door again, just wanting her to accept and go through first and then maybe they could both get some fresh air and calm down!

Instead, she just stabbed her horn towards the door, clearly refusing to go. She was angry. Why was she angry? Was she angry with him? What had he done now? Unable to control himself, Blueblood stuck his nose in the air and huffed, in clear defiance of chapter 9.

“Whatever,” he thought to himself. “If she doesn’t want to go first, I’ll go first. If only so we can stop standing in front of a door bobbing our heads like we’re doing the Pokey Pony or something. Ugh.”

And he felt fine with that until the first moment he felt the evening breeze on his face, at which point the thing in his stomach started jumping even harder, and it’s teeth got a little bigger.

•§•§•§•§•

What had he done? What was he doing? This wasn’t what the book said. This wasn’t him. He may’ve not always known how to act, but he’d always at least known how to behave.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her anymore. Every time he did, the thing in his stomach would reach up and give his heart a squeeze.

So, he just closed his eyes, kept his head forward, and followed along wherever she led.

Maybe he could excuse himself and go find Celestia; stay by her for the rest of the night. No one ever wanted to talk to him when Auntie was there. No one ever noticed him. Never. It was better that way. Safer.

“Two apple fritters, please.” Peeking with one eye, Blueblood saw a flash of her smile at the orange earth pony running the snack stand and snapped his eye shut again.

… or maybe he could excuse himself entirely and go back to his office and curl up under his desk. It had been a while since he’d done that, but he was starting to feel just that bad.

He was brought out of his thoughts when she cleared her throat. What, did she expect him to pay for it? It was her idea to get food, not his. She could pay for her own pastries. He cleared his throat back at her.

She coughed again, more insistently. He couldn’t believe it; even Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette agreed with him on this point! The pony who picks where to go picks up the tab. He coughed right back.

As she started to grumble, the mare behind the counter waved her off and said it was on the house. Thanking her, the mare by his side said pointedly, “At least somepony here has good manners.” just as Blueblood bit into the fritter.

He actually chewed for a couple of seconds before her words registered and his mind started screaming at him Chapter 14! CHAPTER 14!!!

He immediately spat out the fritter and tried to redeem himself. "Bleh! Ugh! Fritters! Dumplings! Caramel apples?! My royal lips have touched common carnival fare! I'm going to the buffet for some... hors d'oeuvres."

Nose stuck as high up as it could go, Blueblood trotted off with every iota of dignity he could muster, trying not to show how much he was panicking inside.

It was a trap, it was a trap, it was obvious, she’d tried to humiliate him, no, no, not her, please no, she’d been so nice before, but she’d done it, she must suspect something, must know, know everything, know he’s a fraud, a freak, not her, please… please, not her...

•§•§•§•§•

He’d made up his mind; he couldn’t take it anymore. He was going to find Auntie, excuse himself, and just go to bed. He’d tried his best, and it just wasn’t good enough. He was better off, alone with his maps, just like he’d always known.

He’d barely walked through the door when he saw the cake hurtling down at him. Time slowed to a crawl; he could see every curl of icing, the shadow of every crumb as it barreled towards him. The only thing he could hear were those words from a week ago, echoing in his ears.

... I also ask that you remember to groom yourself.
… remember to groom yourself.
… groom yourself.

With a shriek and acting on pure reflex, Blueblood grabbed the nearest thing he could and blocked the cake. Even after it landed, he was too terrified, too flooded with adrenaline to realize what he’d done; it was only when she spun on him and started growling that it registered that he’d just blocked an incoming projectile with another pony. Although it wasn’t explicitly covered by Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette, he was sure that that was a serious breach of etiquette.

He could see her mouth moving, but the only thing he could hear were Auntie’s words, over and over again, telling him to groom himself. She stormed up to him, still dripping cake, clearly furious, and all that Blueblood could think of was how he had to stay clean, if nothing else, absolutely NOTHING else, he HAD to stay clean.

When he bumped up against the door and realized he couldn’t retreat anymore, the words just spilled out of his mouth. “Ew! Uh, uh, stay back! I just had myself groomed!”

For one brief second, he thought she might actually take pity on him and let him finally escape this endless nightmare… and then the first gob of cake hit him, right between the eyes.

He stumbled back, unable to keep his balance, unable to breathe. His back hit something; he didn’t feel it. There were noises and screams; he didn’t hear any of it. There were ponies running and things falling; he didn’t see any of it. There was smoke and dust and animals and none of it mattered because he couldn’t TALK to ponies or even keep his coat CLEAN and Auntie would-

Blueblood blacked out.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood woke up.

“Blueblood? Nephew?”

“Yes, Auntie?” Blueblood kept staring up at the ceiling.

“What were you thinking?”

Blueblood said nothing, and listlessly waved a hoof towards his nightstand. This was new… he’d never been too exhausted to have a panic attack before. And really, after last night, he felt as if he should never stop panicking.

“Royal Manners & Proper Etiquette for Inexperienced Up-&-Comers”? Where did you even-? Oh, nephew… this was written a long, long time ago, when… well… there were a lot of princes, and no princesses.”

Blueblood frowned and looked up at her. “Auntie?”

Celestia sighed. “It was a different era, then. It was assumed that the colts of that day and age would have been brought up being taught manners, but that a mare would need them spelled out to her. This… this book was written for fillies, Blueblood.”

“That… that means… oh, dear.”

“Oh, my poor nephew. Well, that explains most of it, anyway. What’s this I heard about spitting out food someone got for you, though? That couldn’t possibly-”

Blueblood sat up and said with a sniffle, “Chapter 14.”

“Really? But that- well, let’s see… Chapter 14: Etiquette and Principles of Dining... and remember, it’s not just how you eat, it’s WHAT you eat. One does not have pancakes for dinner nor ice cream for breakfast; to drink hot cocoa in midsummer is an invitation for gossip and scandal. In fact, among certain crass and cruel hosts, it is a common prank to set out one or two inappropriate foodstuffs and see who has some. The author cannot stress this enough: eat what’s appropriate for the event!” Celestia lowered the book and stroked his mane. “And since it was the Grand Galloping Gala…”

“… I thought I could only eat the fanciest, most refined things.” He shook his head. “I love fritters, you know that Auntie, but… it was in the book.”

“And the cake?”

Blueblood flinched at that. “That… had nothing to do with the book. I just… didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?”

He chewed his lip and flattened his ears. “The only two things you asked of me were that I attend the Gala, and remember to clean myself up. I showed up and made a mess of everything, but I hoped that if I could at least stay clean, you wouldn’t be completely disappointed in me.” Blueblood collapsed back onto his pillow. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t even do that right.”

“Oh, nephew, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes popped open and he stared at her. “You’re sorry? But… but… I was the one who messed up! Who couldn’t even spend one evening around another pony! Who ruined… everything! The whole Gala! You can’t be sorry; I’m sorry!”

“But you did it for me, nephew. You did so much, that I know you find uncomfortable, just for my sake. I only wanted to see you get out more and have some fun, meet some new ponies… I never meant to test you.” Celestia nuzzled him softly. “I just worry about you, you know. Luna gets out more than you do, these days.”

Blueblood nodded and leaned into his Auntie. For the first time in a week, a tension he hadn’t even been aware of finally released. With it came a yawn, and a sudden weight to his eyelids.

Celestia tucked him back in and kissed his forehead. “Sleep now, nephew. You may want to write a letter explaining yourself to a certain mare, but that can wait until you’ve recovered. For now… rest.”

Blueblood could only yawn again, and was soon fast asleep. As he slept, his dreams were filled with white birds that sang together, and knew which way was North.

Author's Note

Right after he tells Celestia about his midnight snacks with Luna, I just picture Blueblood making this face:

I may need to do some sort of epilogue/prologue thing for this, just so I can have Blueblood as a foal being even MORE SHY and awkward and meeting Twilight for the first time.

I'm Not Saying It Was Changelings... But It Was Changelings

The sound of hooves on stone echoed in the large cavern. In a pool of light, a white unicorn fidgeted nervously. He wasn’t used to being so alone or scrutinized so intensely.

“Well? What do you think?” A voice finally drifted out of the darkness.

“Hm… I dare say, it’s perfect.” A second voice finally replied from another direction. “Perfect… but not right.”

The stallion flinched at that, not knowing what he’d done wrong; terrified of the consequences for disappointing his examiners.

“What? But… but I-!”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s nothing that can’t be… heh, ‘fixed’.” The voices continued to circle, and the unicorn tried to regain his composure. If he broke now, then there was no hope for any of them.

“You see, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about these dear little ponies, it’s that while they can be very, very good… they are never perfect.”

“... ah. I see, of course.” A black, chitinous hoof reached into the spotlight, and with almost artistic deliberation, ruffled the unicorn’s mane. A curl of hair came loose and settled along his face, clearly astray from the rest of his locks. “Yes… yes, I see it now, what you meant. Not perfect…”

“... but right.”

The unicorn perked up, unable to hide the burst of hope he felt.

One of the voices chuckled. “I think we’re ready, then.” A pulse of magic washed through the cave and activated the other illumination crystals, banishing the shadows and gloom. There, directly before him, towered Chrysalis, Leader of the Hive. Tall, elegant, radiating power like any alicorn princess… the unicorn reacted with pure instinct and bowed before her.

“What is your name?”

“Prince Blueblood.” The words were uttered without any hesitation, any thought.

“Where are you going tonight?”

“To the Grand Galloping Gala; the most prestigious social event of the year. Between gossips and the press, also one of the most closely watched and analyzed.”

“And what were you hoping to achieve there?”

Blueblood raised his head and looked her squarely in the eye and said with utter conviction. “To meet new ponies, and make friends.”

Chrysalis threw back her head and laughed. “Yes! Yes! Go then, Blueblood, go the Gala and mingle and make friends!”

Not sure if that was an official dismissal or not, he looked over his shoulder at the other figure in the room for confirmation. She nodded, smiling in her mysterious way, and gestured towards the tunnel that would take him into a hidden corner of Canterlot castle, where no pony would see him enter. Not wasting another moment, the unicorn trotted swiftly away; throwing only a couple of glances back over his shoulder before the tunnel twisted out of sight.

Chrysalis watched the retreating figure, only speaking again when she was certain he was too far away to hear. She shouldn’t… couldn’t show any doubt, not so close to success. “This is the one, isn’t it? It has to be.”

The other figure stepped next to her and laid a wing across her back. “Of course it is. I am certain that this year… this Gala… this will be the one that makes it all worthwhile. All the years, all the work… trust me, Chrysalis.”

The Lady of the Swarm smiled nervously and turned to look at her co-conspirator. “Do you really mean that, Celestia?”

“Absolutely,” the Solar Diarch of Equestria smiled back.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood awoke slowly. He wasn’t in his bed, and he could hear the sound of another- no, several others in the room with him.

Cracking an eye open slowly, he was met by the sight of three undisguised changelings standing in the door of the small room he must’ve been carried to. Their posture shifted as they sensed that he was awake.

Shaking off the last dregs of sleep, Blueblood sat up and looked at them with narrowed eyes. “So… back for a rematch, eh? Think that just because the three of you work together, you can take me again? I’m on to your tricks!”

The changelings all laughed at his blustering, and slowly started to close in on him, grins growing wider with every step.

Keeping an eye on them every moment, Blueblood edged around the room until there was a table between himself and them. “Oh, you think I’m funny? Let’s see how much you’re laughing after a few rounds of THIS!” With a flash of magic from his horn, Blueblood slammed a deck of cards on the table. Without breaking eye contact, he began to demonstrate some very deft telekinesis; riffling, bridging and shuffling over and over, all without looking at the cards.

“Start off with a five-bit ante, queens are wild, and see where the evening takes us... sound good to you fellows?” The changelings nodded eagerly, rubbing their hooves in anticipation.

Blueblood was just about to start dealing when he froze. Peering closely at the changeling on his left, he asked in a low, slow voice, “... did you remember to bring the snacks this time?”

The changeling’s eyes started darting back and forth, and it made some clicks and buzzes that sounded almost, but not quite, like excuses.

“Oh, come on! You know the rules. I bring the cards; you bring the snacks. That’s the deal.”

Blueblood kept staring at the increasingly quiet changeling until it shot to it’s hooves and pointed over his shoulder with a loud, scared-sounding buzz. Blueblood quickly looked over his shoulder to see..!

… a completely blank wall.

By the time he looked back, the changeling was gone from the table, and a trail of dust leading out the door was still settling.

He rolled his eyes and went back to shuffling. Turning to the other changelings, he said “We’ll just wait for him to get back with the snacks, yeah?”

His two remaining poker buddies nodded in agreement.

•§•§•§•§•

“Eeeee! I know it, I know it, I can just FEEL it, this is going to be the one!” Chrysalis continued to pronk as Celestia hid a grin behind her hoof.

“I can hardly wait for tomorrow, Chryssie. Once we tell everyone, and- well. If it’s going to happen at all, I should head up as well. The Gala can hardly start without me, after all.”

Chrysalis stopped hopping with a loud gasp before rushing in front of Celestia. “Tia… what if… you know, just this once…” There was a flash of green magic, and Celestia found herself looking up at herself with big, pleading, puppy-dog eyes. “... maaaaybe I could go in your place? I mean, you always say how bored you are!”

Celestia couldn’t help but laugh, and gave herself a quick nuzzle. “Oh, Chryssie, how I wish we could switch… but you know the rules. We both agreed to them, when we started all this.”

Chryslestia pouted, but nodded in agreement. “I knooow… I’m to stay down here, so that the changeling can prove itself, by itself, without a guiding hoof from me. It’s just… I have a really good feeling about this one, Tia. This’ll be the year!”

Celestia beamed at Chrysalis. “I agree completely. Something about this Gala feels… different. After this year, everything will be changed. Oh, just imagine! First Luna, now you… we’ll finally all be together again!” She fluffed and settled her wings, clearly happy just thinking about the coming reunion. “Now I really must go. I’ll have practically no time to myself once the Gala starts, and I’d really like to catch up with Twilight-”

“Wait, your student will be there? The one who finally saved Luna? Now I really wish I could go! Aww!”

“Not just her, but all of the bearers of the Elements. After everything they’d done for Twilight… for us… inviting them was the least I could do.”

“Sure, sure! Rub it in how I won’t be getting to meet any of them tonight.” Chrysalis flared back into herself and stuck her tongue out at Celestia, causing her to giggle again.

“I promise, when we have the ceremony tomorrow, you can meet them all. Look on the bright side; you won’t have to pretend to be me the entire time. You can meet them as you.”

Chrysalis perked up a little at that, and waved goodbye as Celestia left for the party.

•§•§•§•§•

“By the way, thanks for dragging me to my room last night.” The changelings didn’t look up from their cards, but nodded in acknowledgement.

“No, no, I mean it. Thanks. I don’t normally get that deep into my cups, but, well…” Blueblood sighed and picked two cards to discard. “It’s just that I heard that the Elements of Harmony were going to be at the Gala this year! And I’m going to miss them! Don’t get me wrong, you guys are great, but…” That got a clicky sort of chuckle out of them, except for the one on the left who still hadn’t made up his mind about what cards to keep. “Really, come on. Meeting the mares who saved Equestria? Stopped eternal night? Saved Auntie Luna from Nightmare Moon? Also, it’s been what, more than a year since I’ve seen Twilight? There’s so much to catch up on and-”

Blueblood was cut off by some good-natured snickering and pokes in the ribs from the changelings next to him.

“Hey, hey, it’s not like that!” The unicorn blushed a little and picked up his new cards. “I mean, yes, I know I can be a bit romantic at times, and I’ve told you about how I’d just love to meet my very special somepony in the garden under a full moon, and how it would be love at first sight and we’d dance and dazzle all the other guests, and I could just swoon into her hooves, knowing she could protect me… but really! I just want to meet them because they saved the kingdom. Really. That’s all.”

The changelings just looked at each other and smiled. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

Blueblood puffed out his cheeks and glared at them. “Are you guys gonna ante up or not?”

•§•§•§•§•

Prince Changeling. Changeblue. Blueling. Fauxblood. Bluebug. Changeblood. Princeling. Blue Beetle. Bloodling. Ooh, Bloodling! That was a good one; no pony would dare start something with… Bloodling.

Bloodling (better known to his friends back in the Hive as Nymph and to Chrysalis as Nimmy) looked around the gardens in his best, super-sneaky way. The Gala was underway, and there were already quite a few ponies wandering the grounds.

He grinned and rubbed his hooves together. So many ponies, and not a single one suspected that the dashing and mysterious Bloodling was in their midst. If all went according to plan, they never would, either.

Aside from Princess Celestia, of course. She knew all about it. Probably Princess Luna too, now that she was back. And the real Blueblood, obviously, but he wasn’t here so he didn’t count. And a few of the older guests, who’d had their turn at being replaced. And really, if everything went to plan, tomorrow every pony would know when it was announced that changelings were going to start integrating into society.

But for now, practically no one had any idea that Bloodling was on the prowl! Calm, cool, collected, he was the epitome of a changeling at work, ready to-

Bloodling was nearly knocked off his borrowed hooves by a sudden wave of hope/desire/infatuation/trepidation. It hit with the power of seeing a long-lost love return, or possibly even love at first sight; to the eager young changeling, it felt like he’d been bucked in the back of the head by chocolate and sparkles.

‘... whoa.’ was all he could think for a few seconds. ‘I don’t know who that was, but I know who I want to spend the rest of the evening with.’

Bloodling resumed mingling, but now also keeping an eye out (well, emotionally-receptive neural cluster) for a pony who could feel so strongly about the prince.

•§•§•§•§•

Chrysalis poked her head into the room just in time to see Blueblood lose the latest hoof of poker.

“The Whole Hive Hootenanny is about to start… are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

“Thanks, but no, Auntie. I still need to win back all the bits I lost last year.” Blueblood looked around the table with a goodnatured glare. “And the year before. I haven’t forgotten, you crooks. ‘Never even heard of poker’, my flank...”

Chrysalis laughed and wished him luck, grinning as she went to join the rest of the Hive. Talking to Blueblood, even just being around him, always made her feel better.

•§•

When meeting her for the first time, even when introduced by Celestia herself, other ponies had tended to react… poorly.

In the old days, when the Windigoes were still fresh in their minds and survival was everypony’s job, they had usually tackled her and told Celestia to save herself while they held Chrysalis at bay. That had never stopped being awkward.

As Equestia was tamed and the ponies became more settled though, battle cries gave way to just crying. Even with Celestia at their side, they’d be skittish through the initial meeting. Many guests would then stay in their room, barricade the door, and wait for Celestia to come for them in the morning. A few even got so upset that Celestia and Chrysalis were forced to convince them that it had all been a dream; that they’d gone to the Gala, overindulged on champagne and canapes, and then some bad cheese had brought on nightmares of things that were not ponies but wished to be, and who had taken their place at the Gala.

Those times had hurt more than any physical assault. Why were they so afraid? Why couldn’t they… why couldn’t any pony see the changelings the way she did? All their potential, their close connection to one another… they were beautiful. Why was she the only one who didn’t shy away in fear and disgust?

Except Blueblood. He hadn’t lashed out, or cried, or cowered. He had only stood there, listening, as Celestia and Chrysalis had explained everything to him. At the end of it, he’d only asked one thing. “So… you’re Princess Celestia’s sister?”

When they said yes, he nodded. “Well, she’s my auntie, and if you’re her sister, that means you’re also my auntie.” Then he’d trotted over and hugged her. He said something about family, but Chrysalis hadn’t been able to hear it over her own shock and the waves of honest acceptance and blossoming familial love that were rolling off of him.

He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t hate her. Celestia had vouched for her, and that had been enough for him to call her family.

He’d been just as accepting of the changelings. Where all other ponies had been frightened to see their doppelganger, Blueblood had only clapped his hooves and laughed; something about seeing the back of his own head just made him giddy as a schoolfilly. He went to the Whole Hive Hootenanny, and declared it superior to the Grand Galloping Gala. He somehow convinced a few changelings to start a game of poker, a game of bluffing and reading others and had laughed with every loss.

At the end of the night he asked one more question, and with it, secured his place in Chrysalis’ opinion as the best pony in all of Canterlot.

He asked if he could come back next year.

•§•

Chrysalis came out of her reminiscing as she entered the main cavern, where nearly all of the Hive had gathered. The chamber buzzed with music and life; like silent fireworks, the flashes of changelings in disguise competitions came from all sides. Upon seeing her enter, a Chrysalis in the middle of the dance floor froze before quickly turning into a normal changeling and grinning sheepishly.

Here, surrounded by the Hive, Chrysalis felt like she’d stepped into a warm, soft sea; the laughter, the joy, wave after wave of unadulterated enjoyment… it washed away all of her worries and fears.

‘Everything will be fine… this year will be different,’ she thought with a smile.

•§•§•§•§•

In yet another stunning display of cunning and cleverness, Bloodling had managed to track down the source of the emotional outburst he’d felt earlier. So what if there were only about seventeen ponies in the garden, and all he’d done was talk to each of them to see if they’d flare up again? That was still cunning. It was totally cunning.

He’d only had to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions; the burst of fear/excitement/desire/surprise was too intense, too raw... this mare had never met Blueblood before.

If they’d been lovers forced apart for whatever reason, there would be a familiarity to the feeling; it’d be complex and full-bodied, like a vintage wine. If she’d been crushing on him around the castle, there would be a hint of an ache to it; a tangy undercurrent, from a dream within reach but unpursued. This was crisp, like fresh snowfall; this meeting would be the very first thing to leave a mark on it.

If he were a lesser changeling, he wouldn’t even hesitate to take advantage of that and wring every iota of love out of the mare.

However, Bloodling was made of sterner stuff. He would not give in to his impulses; he would make his Lady proud and not get the real Blueblood tangled up in scandal or obligations.

That being said, he still wanted to spend the Gala in her company; just being next to her was like knocking back an entire bottle of wine. Her emotions were so earnest, so powerful… he was actually feeling a little lightheaded from it.

Clearly, the best course of action would be to stick with her, but try and temper her feelings for him. After all, he had been told to mingle and make friends, just not lovers.

When she mentioned the rose, Bloodling saw his chance. Rather than present it to her, he kept it for himself. The burst of disappointment/sadness/dismay was like an iced coffee; it cleared his head and bolstered his confidence in his plan. Another flawless scheme by Bloodling!

•§•§•§•§•

“Wait, no! Argh...” Blueblood groaned as his discarded cards were swept away. He’d let his mind wander, and had accidentally put down the wrong cards. It only ruined a pair of nines, but it was still… huh.

His new cards completed a flush. That was… lucky.

As he collected the pot, Blueblood’s ear twitched. He tried to ignore it.

•§•§•§•§•

It was getting harder to ignore the urge to feed off this mare. Her shock at the trick with the flower had faded, and her hope and desire for Blueblood had rallied faster than Bloodling had expected. Stealing her seat in the garden helped for a while, but she refused to let it dampen her mood. It was so pure, so focused… if he allowed himself, Bloodling figured he could become the second most powerful changeling in the Hive from the strength of her emotions. He still wouldn’t be able to compare to Chrysalis, but one can’t hold a candle to the sun in any case.

Not that he would feed, of course; there were far more important things at stake tonight than his personal growth. He would make his Lady proud, he wouldn’t embarrass Blueblood, and he would keep disappointing this lovesick mare.

Bloodling smiled as he spotted a spilled drink. It must be a sign!

•§•§•§•§•

‘It must be a sign,’ Blueblood thought, his stomach knotting as he won. Again.

He’d been getting better cards, the changelings’ tells were more obvious, they were falling for his bluffs more often… there was no denying it; he was on a winning streak. A Princess-forsaken, unnatural, portentous winning streak.

His ears flicked, his skin crawled, his hooves tingled… with every bet and every card, his cutie mark was screaming at him that it all meant something.

Although it looked like only a compass rose, Blueblood’s talent wasn’t limited to maps or navigation; he knew how to read signs. From the color of clouds at dawn, he could forecast the weather for a week. From the scratches and dents on a pocket watch, he could tell you everything about the owner except their name. From a game of poker, he could tell how a noble would act in court and what could sway their minds (that was why he enjoyed playing with the changelings; it’d been years since he’d found a pony he couldn’t bluff and read after five minutes).

Sometimes, if he really focused, he could pick up more esoteric signs. The flight of birds would tell him who would be picked next for promotion. From a scattered hoofful of rice, he could say if it would be faster to go by train or airship. The stars that Auntie Luna had chosen to twinkle on a given night were like a book, letting him know how all his friends were faring no matter where they were (he’d asked Luna about that, but she claimed it was whim and artistry that guided her hoof and nothing more).

From a game of cards and a complete reversal of fortune, he could only think one thing. ‘Lucky in cards; unlucky in love.’

He was dealt a full house for the next hoof.

•§•§•§•§•

Okay. Okay. So. So Bloodling maaay have indulged himself a little. Just a little! The mare was overflowing with emotion; probably prone to mood swings and dramatics. Heartfelt dramatics, though! She’d overreact, but they’d be sincere overreactions.

Hic.

Anyway! He’d only had a little. Skimmed some off the top of that thick, creamy love, with a spicy nibble of frustration and outrage after another couple of gaffes. He was still good for the mission. He could do the mission in his sleep! Pfft. ‘Blend in, don’t cause a scene, prove that changelings weren’t malicious troublemakers or whatever.’ Easy! Easy-peasy one-two-threesy.

Okay, he’d come reeeeally close to causing a scene with the fritters, but he hadn’t. And come on, those things had clearly been made with love. Maybe with a dollop of pride, too. If he’d actually eaten one, he’d probably have curled up in a corner, dropped his disguise, and passed out. But he hadn’t. Done either of those things. Cause a scene or pass out. See? All good!

Now he just had to make it through the next half hour, and then he could excuse himself politely, and curl up in a corner, drop his disguise and pass out.

•§•§•§•§•

“All in.”

The changelings looked at Blueblood. He’d been playing erratically for the last hour, his emotions in turmoil, but this took the cake. It was the last hoof of the evening, and he hadn’t even looked at his cards; just picked which to discard while they were still face down. Now he was pushing all of his winnings into the center of the table, more than enough to make up for all his losses over the last couple of years.

The changeling who was dealing hesitated, and Blueblood fixed him with a steely glare. “All. In.”

The changelings shared a concerned look, but let it ride. If this was how the prince wanted to play it, that was his choice. Everyone pushed all their bits into the pot, and showed their cards.

Full house. Straight flush. Four of a kind. Blueblood felt a stirring of hope, and reached for his own cards…

•§•§•§•§•

Blooding backed up, panicking. It looked like pulling her into the path of the cake had been a step too far after all. As the icing dribbled down her face, he could feel all the hope/love/disappointment crystalize into unbounded rage. He couldn’t even siphon some of it off to try and calm her down; it would burn him up first!

In a moment of clarity, he realized that he’d botched the mission and caused a scene. It didn’t matter if this mare killed him; Chrysalis would probably do it when he got back.

‘Well, swat me,’ was the last thing to pass through his mind as the statue crashed and the pillars started to collapse.

•§•§•§•§•

Blueblood stared at his cards, and sniffled.

A royal flush. A blind, totally random, royal flush. He had no idea what had happened up there, but he knew one thing; his love life was bucked. He took a deep breath and managed to keep himself from crying. It was probably just his one shot at true love, after all.

Voice only a little bit thick, he said to the the confused changelings, “Guys, I… I think the Gala didn’t go so well this year. You, uh… you may need to be there for Auntie Chrysalis when she hears.” He looked up and bit his lip. “Also, uh… ahem. Can… can I stay here tonight? I think… I think I’m going to want to be around friends, too.”

The changelings looked at each other, then back to Blueblood. As one, they moved and gave him a group hug. After a few moments, one said, “Of course, buddy. We’re here for ya.”

“Thanks. I- yeah. Thanks.”

•§•§•§•§•

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“No! No, it’s… we agreed to this. This is… we agreed to this.”

Celestia hugged Chrysalis again, but she remained tense and distant. “You were very close! And it wasn’t just Nymph’s fault, there was a lot going on. I’m sure, next year will be-”

Chrysalis twitched at that, and cut Celestia off. “Yes! Of course. Next year. Always have to keep hoping... for next year.” Chrysalis extracted herself from her sister’s embrace and took a deep breath before continuing. “Tia, I… I’m going to have to let the Hive know about this, and… I’d prefer to do it alone. I’m sure Twilight and her friends could use a kind word about now; would you mind..?”

“If you’re sure…” Celestia hesitated.

“Yes. Please.”

Celestia silently gave one last hug before going, and kept glancing back over her shoulder until the tunnel twisted out of sight.

Chrysalis remained silent, eyes closed, until she’d finished counting to one hundred. Only then did she allow herself to break down in bitter, frustrated tears.

•§•§•§•§•

“Are you sure you wish to do this, sister?”

Eyes shining, she looked up at Celestia. “Absolutely! Can’t you feel it, Tia? That… that pressure of so much untapped potential!” She looked down at the enormous insects that wandered about the valley. “It’s like how you’ve always described the ponies… you look at them and know, just know, that they could do great things with only a little guidance. I feel that when I look at the changelings. I can… no, I have to do this.”

Celestia smiled and nuzzled her eager young sister. “Well, since you’ve already changed for the occasion, there’s probably nothing I could say to dissuade you anyway.”

“I could hardly offer to lead them looking like you, now could I? What sort of message would that send?”

“True, true,” Celestia nodded. “Black and green looks good on you, I must say. Have you picked a name to go with it?”

She bounced a little at the compliment before answering. “Since I hope to change them into something truly splendid… Chrysalis seems appropriate.”

“Ooh, I like it. Very apropos.”

“I wish Luna could be here for this…”

“Last night was a full moon; you know how tired she gets after having to move it.”

Chrysalis pouted, but her smile returned as soon as she looked back to the changelings. “I know this won’t be easy, Tia… and I want to make sure that when the time comes, they’ll be accepted; no history of fear or persecution.”

“What did you have in mind… Chryssie?”

“For now, they… we will stay hidden. I’ll help them and guide them, and when the time comes and I think they’ll be able to interact with ponies as equals… as peers... we’ll have a test. A lone changeling, to go among the ponies and demonstrate to them and to us, that they are ponies too; thinking, feeling beings and not mindless beasts.”

“Hmm… well, I can certainly arrange some event when the time comes. I can even make it an annual event, if…” Celestia trailed off and glanced at her sister.

Chrysalis shook her head. “No, I understand. To succeed on the very first try would be… well, a miracle.”

Celestia fixed Chrysalis with a steady gaze. “You know, of course, that you won’t be able to be there with them, right? They must prove themselves on their own merit, with no hoof-holding.”

“It’ll be hard, but if… when they do, it’ll make it all worth it.”

“I do not know that I’ve ever been so proud of you, sister... I wish you all the luck in the world. Go; if you wait any longer, I may start to cry.”

Chrysalis nuzzled Celestia one last time before descending into the valley of the changelings, to help guide them to greatness.

•§•§•§•§•

Chrysalis stood alone in the central chamber of the hive. After drying her tears, she had come down and told the changelings how the Gala had gone. The Whole Hive Hootenanny had started to break up shortly afterwards; not that she’d told them to stop, it was just… the mood had changed.

Chrysalis had lingered; smiling and nodding as changelings passed by on the way to their nests.

For some reason, she just couldn’t bring herself to follow. She didn’t want to stay in the dark, echoing hall… but what was the point? Where would she go?

She sighed, and tried to shake it off. ‘Maybe next-’

NO.

She couldn’t bring herself to even think the words; how many times, how many years had she said them? Said them to the changelings, said them to herself, heard them from Celestia?

Maybe next year.

It was always next year. Next year never came! Every single Gala, it was always ‘so close’ or ‘just one small incident’ and always, always, ALWAYS ‘maybe next year.’

No. Not this time. Not this year. This year, everything would be different. No more following the rules; what had that gotten her? She’d nurtured and stewarded the changelings into a race to rival anything, ANYTHING Celestia had had a hoof in. Who were the more harmonious creatures? Petty, scared, squabbling ponies, or her changelings, with their perfect empathy, their ideal equality?

It was obvious. It was obvious to anyone who could see, who wasn’t blinded by their own priggish pride. The Gala was a sham; a way for Celestia to tease her with hope and inevitable failure. If she was to show them just how well-behaved, how dedicated to fitting in and getting along changelings could be, well… it was obvious.

She’d have to invade Canterlot, replace hundreds of ponies for months, and reveal herself at the biggest, most important event of the decade. THAT would show them that changelings were nothing to be afraid of!

No more mucking about with the Gala, where Celestia would be watching every little mistake her poor, scared, lonely little changeling would make. No. It was time for her to take things into her own hooves and finally… finally show them all!

Chrysalis threw back her head and laughed, amazed at the clarity of her plan, of how simple it seemed now that she’d thought of it. This would be a turning point for her that would be remembered forever, she could feel it.

For a split second she considered changing her name again, as she had when she’d first gone among the changelings. The only thing that came to mind though, was ‘Nightmare Cocoon’ which she dismissed as being patently ridiculous. Still, something was needed to mark the occasion…

Her eyes lit up and she cackled again. Of course! If she was going to prove that she and her changelings were better than Princess Celestia and her ponies… what better way to start than by declaring herself Queen Chrysalis?

Queen Chrysalis swept out of the cavern. She had plans to make and changelings to train.

She was done waiting.

Author's Note

Because who says Luna is the only one who gets to go nuts from frustration and attempt to take over Equestria, just so she'll be appreciated?

At least Chrysalis isn't having to spend 1000 years on the moon after her attempt.