I awoke the next morning but I remained under the warm covers.

I was at a loss for what to do, compared to earth I had no job that forced me up in the morning and I was not hungry either. I had no excuse that could force my fussy mind to drag me up and away from the comfort.

I sighed and stared aimlessly out the window. The conversation I had with Celestia played in my mind, and it was putting a dampener on my mood now that it was confirmed I was imprisoned. Even if it was in a very loose term… not many people had a cell that was as large as a palace with a personal luxury suite. I could be worse off. I reasoned.

With a yawn I let my eyes slid close again and tried to find more rest for a few more hours.

There I laid, not really asleep though not truly awake either. I barely took note how the shadows in the room moved, but soon I had the sun glare in my eyes. time to get up, I heaved a sigh and sat up.

My cover slipped of my back and exposed me to the slight chill that persisted in the room. I could not help the shiver that ran through me. I felt all the small hairs on my body stand up and… fluff. I gave my slack wings a little look over, noting how ruffled and bent the feathers looked.

How the hell am I supposed to fix this? I asked myself and lifted one of my wings up for a better and closer look. I was no stranger to haircare but how was someone supposed to… unruffle feathers? Was there combs for it or did one do it with one’s mouth? I let another sigh pass through my nose and dropped the limb. It was a problem for another time.

Slowly and with as much grace I could manage I stumbled of my bed. I was happy to note how little my shoulder hurt compared to yesterday, I still felt twangs of pain spike through the joint but at least it felt like I could move it now. A good sign, it meant I was healing, and maybe it wasn’t as hurt as I thought.

Letting the tips of my wings scrape along the ground I made my way towards the small vanity. On my way I looked out the window. In the garden outside I saw ponies, clad scarfs and hats shuffling paths in the pony deep snow. A few Pegasi was dusting away snow from the statues. I stopped for a second to observe them work. It was so surreal to actually be here.

I brought a hoof up to my face. I studied it for a moment. Yeah… surreal. I discarded the feeling of nausea and walked the rest of the distance to the vanity.

I stared at my pony reflection; silver-grey eyes’ met what I could only assume to be my own silver-grey eyes. It was a wonder how one could look even more ruffled and dirty after a night of bed rest. My grey hair was in an even worse state of disarray and stuck out at odd angles. My… my fur looked even more in need of a thorough brushing. I did not comment on the state of my wings. I could still see the slight discolouration of bruises through the fur on my jaw and cheek, not to mention the bags under my eyes.

It was interesting how easy it was to tell the state of my body. Almost like on the cartoon, though less pronounced, I noted.

I turned my gaze away from my visage and down at the vanity’s drawers. time to have a look. I sat down and fumbled around with the drawers. It wasn’t a hard task to open them, instead of a knob or a handle they had small dug out in them that took advantage of the hooves natural shape… so a more or less a reverse handle of sorts. It took me a few seconds to get a grip with my digit.

There wasn’t much within the drawers, only a few sets of combs and brushes. I picked out three brushes that were… well horse brushes. Long, wide and rough, meant to cover as much surface area as possible. Then there were more normal brushes, if there is such a thing as a normal brush. They looked more or less like I had spied from the cartoon, a wide round hoof sized brush with fine and soft strands that felt heavenly against my snout. A fine-tuned instrument meant to care for well cared hair, a vanity item if I ever saw one. The others combs were… well combs, ranging from wide toothed to fine toothed ones. It was clear to me that they must have been used with magic as there were no good grip on those, it would simply be too awkward to use otherwise.

I sighed again. Seemed I had to live with my unruly hair for a little while longer. I settled to at least straighten my fur.

Carefully I extracted one of the more rough brushes out of its drawer and slipped it on my right hoof. I studied the brush a bit closer, or more precisely the hoof band that kept the brush somewhat attached to my hoof.

To my touch it felt loose, as if it would slip off if I so much as did anything with it… very much like an ill fitted slipper.

Okay… how do I do this? I wondered as I stared apprehensible at the tool. The idea to brush myself with the brush felt strange and weird, and where was I supposed to start? After a moment’s hesitation I reluctantly brought it to my left shoulder and started brushing. The straws dug through my fur and prickled my skin every time I awkwardly and clumsily brought the brush back for another go. The brush snagged a few times and slipped of my hoof with a booming clatter. At least it felt like it was booming in the quiet room and I felt myself blush in embarrassment as I was sure whoever stood outside my room could hear me. Even more embarrassing was discovering that I could see my own cheeks bloom red… or redder in this case, on my own reflection.

After a few tries I got the hang of it and as my furs straitened and unknotted itself the brush stopped snagging at every turn, making it easier and a lot smoother.

I was slowly starting to enjoy both the feeling and the action of the brushing. I briefly wondered if I truly was that bored. With each brush a small cloud of dust left my fur, making my fur look less matted and the colour more pronounced. The task was probably enjoyable because I could see what each take of the brush I did. I liked the result.

I gave up after a few minutes of doing this. My fur was straighter and cleaner than it was before, but I simply did not have the patience. I dropped the brush back into the drawer. Not finding anything else of immediate interest within it I pushed the box back in, closing it.

My stomach had developed a ripe hunger. Looking at the door I steeled myself.

Time to test the waters. I thought and went to open it.

Using my newly acquired hoof skills I conquered the insignificant hurdle of the wooden barricade. I slowly coaxed the door open a peered outside.

I spotted, as I had already come to expect, two unicorn guards flanking my door. Both swivelled their eyes to look at me. I recognized one of them as Green from the day before, the other one was entirely new to me.

“Where can I find breakfast?” I asked with a smidge of trepidation. My fears however went unanswered when Green gestured with his head down the hall.

“This way.” He simply said, too my relief, and started to trot down the hall the way he had pointed.

The new guard took up a leisurely pace behind me as I followed Green down the hall. Green was mindfully keeping pace with my own comparatively slow and clumsy walk. I still had problems judging the length of my forelegs as they were far longer than my human form had been.

It took me awhile to scale down the stairs, but again my guards helped me. But I think I saw the new one smirk in amusement at my ability... or lack thereof…

Surprisingly we did not walk into anyone on our little trip and soon I was led through a set of double door and into what I could only call a mess hall. A dozen or so eight seated and round tables were spread out through the room.

A mare was tending to a food counter on my right, she was holding a cleaning cloth which she was using to great effect on removing a stain set onto the wood. The counter itself was empty only an empty food rack was left; even the water that would have kept the food warm was drained.

The mare looked up from her work and towards us. Even at this distance I saw the curious look in her eyes as she arced an eyebrow. She did however quickly shake away her expression and settled into a smile.

“Hello!” she greeted with a wave of her hoof, “You guys are a bit too late for lunch, just packed it up.”

“Make an exception.” Green ordered flatly.

The mare’s smile wavered at the no nonsense tone of Green’s.

“I guess…” The mare gave me one more look before she pushed of the counter, “give me a moment and I will have something fixed.”

Green walked up to a table and in passing made and obvious and deliberately clear wave of his hoof pointing at a small pillow seat, all without seemingly breaking the rhythm of his gait.

“Sit.”

I did as I was told. The seat was nothing more than a plank with a bit of padding, far different seat than Celestia’s own personal collection.

Green took a seat on the opposite side, slightly to the right, and took of his helmet which he placed on the floor beside him. The new guy… Brown, I named him, sat down with less decorum. The helm almost bounced as it hit the floor.

“Finally!” Brown exclaimed, “Thought you’d never leave.”

Green lifted a disapproving lip towards his partner. “Lower your voice.”

“Come on, Big Coin, you are as hungry as I am,” Brown continued, his voice lowered into a more conversational tone. It was nice getting proper names for these ponies. When Coin did not deign him with an answer he turned his attention towards me instead, “You took your sweet time, I thought I was going to go crazy waiting for you to get your ass into gear!”

Feeling a bit out of the loop I responded the only way I thought appropriate, “What?”

I watched as Brown’s face fell at my words.

“Got told to babysit you with Coin here this morning, I skipped breakfast because I hoped I could grab something later,” he groaned and laid his head down flat on the table, “now I’m starving because you decided to add ten more extra hours to your beauty sleep.”

I could only stare baffled at the stallion. I was not sure if I should’ve sighed in exasperation over his stupidity or ignore the fool. Who was stupid enough to willingly skip breakfast… especially when one was employed as a guard in the royal palace? Either he was too stupid or too darn optimistic. Though I did feel a bit bad that my lazing around had been inconvenient, but I did not for one second regret it. It was going to teaching the youngster a valuable lesson: to not take anything for granted.

I took a page from Coin’s book and ignored Brown.

Brown blew a raspberry but wisely shut up.

Only a moment later the mare came back. Balancing a tray on her back she sidled up to the table and sent it skidding onto it.

“There yah go boys,” the beige coloured mare said with a nod, her face carrying a pleased expression, ”eat up!”

She eyes lingered on me a second before she quickly walked away in a trot and disappeared out of sight behind the counter.

Coin levitated the bowls and placed one down in front of me. Root mash? I wondered as I peered at the content of the bowl. I gave it a sniff and yes, I could smell the distinct odour of potatoes, carrots, and swede (rutabaga). I glanced up at my two companions. Both had already started to dig in, Coin using a spoon he held in his magic, while Brown in sheer contrast was foregoing spoon and dignity and was face first in the bowl.

Looking longingly at my own spoon I sighed and brought the bowl up to my face, the table was way too low to comfortably eat like Brown.

With the bowl clamped between my hooves I started to eat.

For Vladimir 'Prince' Blueblood the day started like any other. He woke, gave no more than one small yawn before he started the long arduous journey to the palace baths, however not before straightening his mane before the mirror. He had a reputation to uphold after all. His thoughts were however preoccupied with his current problem; he had to find somepony to replace the thrice damned Spin Talk, but who?

His bath was over and done before he even had the chance to enjoy it as his thoughts mulled over all the possibilities, drafting up all the names of ponies he knew, comparing them and ultimately denied them as they did not hold a candle to Spin Talk’s web of contacts and informants. She had her hooves in every mainstream media, from newspapers to fashion magazines, gossip tabloids to actual book prints. With a turn of a hoof she could spread any word throughout the realm in an instant.

He scowled all the way back to his wardrobe, he slipped on a modest cream-coloured tux and carefully tied a sky-blue scarf around his neck which he tucked into the front of the jacket. He left with rapt tact, pausing briefly to enjoy his well-groomed profile in his mirror.

No! No pony he knew personally would do. He needed somepony fresh but undisputedly Spin Talk’s better, somepony ponies listened to and trusted without a doubt, somepony who would and could weather the smear campaign Spin Talk would undoubtedly launch.

Again he lamented that he could not simply have made away with her like in the olden days. Days when the name Blueblood actually meant something.

Reaching his office he made a beeline for the third shelf, fourteenth row, file number five, labelled simply: Talents.

He dusted the old heirloom from his father’s mother’s father’s great-granddad. A collection of names and contacts for the express purpose to help the newest generation of Bluebloods in their time of need.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed. Finally I feel the story is picking up a bit of speed...