The Perilous Quest to Save Vinyl From Certain Demise

When you awaken, your mind is hazy, your senses glazed over and foggy as they gradually return to you, and your mind becomes aware of your new predicament.

You try to move your legs, but find yourself unable to. Though you are not very strong for an earth pony, whomever is imprisoning you here does not trust that, and has bound your legs apart, your hind legs chained firmly to the wall behind you to prevent any attempt at escape.

When you look up, you can see little except the stone walls around you, and the iron bars fencing you into a dungeon cell. It doesn't take you long to figure who had decided to throw you here, or why, as you recall your misadventures in Blueblood's mansion.

You don't know if Vinyl is here, or what her state is, but you find your own predicament a bit more concerning for now.

Letting out a groan of frustration, it doesn't take you long to realize you have no way out now, and since you've told nopony that you've come here, in your hurry to locate Vinyl, it is unlikely anypony is coming to rescue you.

Hearing your vocalisation, you see a guard poke his head into view, confirming your status, before shouting to another guard that you have awakened, and to fetch the prince.

The prince...

You are humiliated, knowing that you were caught by such an incompetent noble. You feel a deep hatred for him form in your mind, though you hadn't felt much love for him in the past anyway.Knowing that he had caught you in such a delicate situation is embarrassing and shameful. You cannot help but dread the coming audience with the royal brat.

However, you can already hear the clip-clop of hooves against the stone floor, making their way to your cell. The guard standing at the entrance calmly produces a key, turns it in some kind of locking mechanism, and opens the door to your cell, then bows as the hoofsteps grow louder, announcing the prince's arrival.

"Thank you," you hear a pompous voice say, addressing your captor. "You are temporarily dismissed. I'd like to talk with our prisoner in private."

Taking another bow, the guard then passes out of your view, trotting off to another part of this prison as you hear his hoofsteps dissipate into silence.

Then, Prince Blueblood walks into your cell, a confident smile on his pretentious and what some might call "handsome" face.

"So, you are finally awake, Octavia Melody."

You grimace, glaring back at his calm expression with unbridled animosity.

"What have you done with Vinyl?" you say, trying to sound determined.

"She is no longer your concern!" Blueblood shouts, his expression immediately darkening upon the mention of your marefriend.

Keeping up your angry expression, you eyes don't leave his for a second.

Slowly, his frown relaxes once more into the smirk her had first worn.

"Though you are merely an earth pony, I still respect you, Octavia." Blueblood continued, as he began casually pacing in the small cell.

"Of all the professions for a pony of your class, you chose the refined art of classical music. A very respectable art, especially for one without the magical abilities to play certain instruments. Despite that, you chose the cello, a very difficult instrument for one like yourself."

Pausing, Blueblood looks off into open space as he paced, speaking casually as you wait for him to reach his point.

"Focusing exclusively on your craft, you've become a strong figure in your field, surpassing all your peers to become the very face of classical music in Equestria."

Stopping to chuckle for a moment, Blueblood looks at you once more, his expression one of calm amusement.

"I must admit, even I, royal nephew to Celestia herself, have heard plenty of your playing. In recordings, the glorious sound of your cello has resonated with many hearts, including my own. I even have a complete collection of your works. Then, on the night of the gala, I heard you play in the flesh, and without the barrier of the studio, your glorious music shone amongst the chaos caused by those six impudent mares who thought they could defile the name of Canterlot's elite."

You aren't sure where the prince is going with this, but despite the prince's flattery and praise, you hardly feel flattered. In fact, his compliments only anger you more as you let him recite your accomplishments.

"Despite the great insult you have made to my home with your trespassing, attacking my guards and corrupting my home with your low-class, earth pony presence," he says, wincing as he speaks of your heritage, "You are far beyond the status of other peasants. I respect you, Octavia, for what you have done, and for your efforts in making Canterlot more beautiful with the sound of your cello. This is why I give you the honor of my presence, despite your race."

He raises a hoof up to your face, running it down your cheek as he examines your features. His breath makes your mane move behind you, the flowing hair still elegantly styled, despite your current situation.

Smiling and looking into your eyes, Blueblood sighs.

"It truly is a great shame for Equestia that you were not born as a unicorn. You could have won the hearts of everypony with music even greater than that you make today, should you have been granted a horn, and the magical prowess to move your bow with true precision, and elevate the culture of classical music with angelic performances..."

"But yet, it was never to be. Here you are now, at my mercy, only awaiting your punishment for your rash, unwise actions."

You look back at Blueblood furiously, though silently, the fire in your glare speaking all you needed. You can't believe this arrogant stallion ever ascended to his current status by any merit of his own, if he had such disgusting standards. As if you needed magic to make your music, anyway!

"Yes, it is a great shame you aren't a unicorn," he says, finally reaching his conclusion. "However, as you are not one, there is only one thing I can do, and only one way I can make you repent for your crimes as royal justice dictates..."

"I must change you into one."

"Since I can't simply punish you myself, due to your racial status, I must leave it to my underlings."

"For meddling in affairs unfit for your kind, I regretfully sentence you to death."