Humility Counseling

Prince Blueblood sat in a very dull waiting room, staring firmly at the opposite wall as he tried to avoid looking at the filthy peasants who shared the room with him. Inwardly, he was seething.

"I cannot believe that she would stoop so low. To threaten my very good name? This is a crime of incomparable magnitude! I swear, I will make that savage of a Caliph pay dearly for crossing me..."

A light nudge against his leg tore him from his internal monologue. Looking down, he saw a small filly with a bright mane and equally bright eyes. She looked at up at him with curiosity.

"Hey there! Why are you staring at the wall like that? Is everything okay?"

Blueblood, irritated at the interruption, snarled at the poor child.

"I did not come here to have my time wasted by foolish peasants. Get out of my face."

The filly's eyes openly displayed her shock and sadness.

"Y-you... you're mean! I hate you!"

Before the Prince could react, he felt the unpleasant sensation of the filly's hind leg smacking into his side. Despite her young age and seeming lack of strength, it still hurt enough to make him visibly wince. He glared down at the filly with fearsome rage, causing her to begin backing away slowly.

"I should have you drawn and quartered for this! Begone!"

Suitably scared out of her wits, the filly ran for the safety of her mother on the other side of the room. Blueblood was briefly worried that the filly would tell her mother about the incident and he'd have to endure yet another unwanted interaction with the working class, but fortunately the older mare seemed to completely ignore her crying daughter in favor of playing on her mobile device.

Allowing a self-satisfied smile to slither across his face like an obese tapeworm, Blueblood leaned back in his chair. He spoke aloud to himself, too quiet for anyone around him to hear.

"Ahh, a filly with a mother too engrossed in the trappings of modernity to care for her child's woes. Fortune smiles upon me this day."

Not long afterwards, Blueblood heard his name being called. Leaping off his chair as if he had been waiting his whole life for the moment he'd no longer have to be in this awful waiting room, he rushed over to the reception desk. The mare behind the desk looked at the Prince, her scrutinizing eyes darting between his breathtakingly handsome features and a clipboard she held aloft with magic. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a high-pitched and somewhat nasally tone.

"Ah, Blueblood, is it? Says here the Princess herself scheduled some meetings with the big boss."

Blueblood snorted and held his head high in the air, offended.

"I beg your pardon! That is Prince Blueblood to you! Why, if I was the head of this kingdom, such lese majeste would be a capital offense!"

The receptionist looked confused more than anything.

"Less what now?"

Prince Blueblood rolled his eyes melodramatically.

"Oh, nevermind."

Shrugging, the mare looked back at her clipboard for a few moments before murmuring to herself.

"Well, the boss is ready to see you now. Go down the left hall until you get to the end. You should see a door that is painted bright pink. That's his room. Do have a fun time, dear."

Blueblood harrumphed in response before marching snottily out of the waiting room, following her directions until he reached a door at the the end of the hall that was, indeed, painted a garishly hideous pink. He entered the room without so much as a knock, quickly slamming the door behind him.

He was greeted by the sight of a mostly unremarkable office, the only notable feature of which was a rather comprehensive collection of novelty plushies that sat on a shelf near the door. Leaning back in a luxurious lounge chair, the stallion who was to be his counselor appraised him with interest, holding a notepad casually in his lap.

"Vladimir Blueblood. Prince of Equestria, Duke of Manechester, scion of the great line of Bucephalus, and the majority shareholder in the Equestrian sticky tape industry. It is an honor to make your acquaintance. Forgive me if I don't stand to greet you, though. My old bones are far too weak for that."

Prince Blueblood stared at him in shock, then anger.

"Never call me Vladimir again, old nag!"

The counselor seemed to take the insult in stride, shrugging.

"If you insist. I know we all have certain things we're ashamed of. We don't get to choose our names, now, do we? They are chosen for us, in an arbitrary process of childish nonsense that spits out ridiculous names like Sunshine Berrysparkle!"

The Prince cocked his head, taken aback by the strange old fellow.

"Come again?"

The counselor shook his head hurriedly.

"Oh, sorry, my mind wanders sometimes. Just a product of age, is all. Please, sit down and we'll get the rest of the formalities out of the way."

Blueblood slowly sat down in one of the chairs that were clearly reserved for the counselor's patients. Now, sitting directly across from him, he could see that the other stallion had not been exaggerating when he had referred to his bones. An earth pony, he looked to be about ninety years old. His saggy skin was largely devoid of fur, and what little remained of his tail and mane were bleached totally white with age. His cutie mark was rather underwhelming as well, being nothing more than a counselor's chair.

Despite all of this, however, there was something in his eyes that prevented the Prince from merely writing him off as an old coot; a hard, determined fire in them that gave Blueblood the very uneasy sensation that he might actually have to try and change his ways.

Clearing his throat, the counselor offered the Prince a friendly, if mostly toothless, smile.

"I believe an introduction is overdue here. My name is Bertram Shrink. I have been a counselor for sixty-eight years, and in Celestia's personal service for the last thirty. And yes, I'm really ninety years old. Ninety-five, actually."

Blueblood looked at him with the kind of half-pitying, half-morbidly curious expression normally reserved for watching animals at the zoo.

"Celestia's beard, you're bucking old!"

Bertram Shrink nodded sagely.

"That's what they all say. Minus the part about your aunt's facial hair, at least."

Shuffling a little in his chair, Shrink rubbed a sore on his cheek before continuing, preparing to scribble on his little notepad.

"Right, then, I'm sure you have lots of important things to pretend to do, so let's not waste any time. You're here because Princess Celestia was dissatisfied with your conduct during an important meeting with the Caliph of Mareocco. If I remember correctly, it involved a priceless Mareoccan relic that you were using in your... bathroom, was it?"

Blueblood nodded shamelessly.

"That is correct. The little ruffian almost turned me into a spit roast when I had the nerve to invoke Prince Kalita's timeless Law of Finder's Keepers! It's like those sand-nags know nothing of proper Equestrian jurisprudence!"

Shrink looked at his patient deliberately.

"Please, I would ask that you refrain from using such foul language in this room. This is a place of peace and meditation, and the use of slurs like that is highly inappropriate."

Blueblood waved a hoof dismissively at him.

"Bah. They are beneath my consideration. Not even worth being considered ponies, if you ask me."

Shrink shrugged his shoulders, scribbling some sentences on his sheet.

"Very well. Anyway, as I understand it, Her Highness has given you an ultimatum. Make a genuine effort towards improving as a pony, or be stripped of your rank and prestige. Certainly, a difficult situation for any member of the peerage."

Blueblood was briefly pleased by the seeming show of sympathy, raising his head in pride and smiling.

"Yes, it is a very difficult situation. Why, I have already suffered tremendously just-"

He stopped as he saw the teasing look in the counselor's eyes, and his smile flipped upside down instantly.

"Wait a minute. Are you mocking me?"

Shrink shrugged and smiled innocently, in much the same way as Blueblood had often seen Celestia do after pranking someone.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, my noble Prince. Please, you mustn't be so paranoid."

Blueblood half-heartedly opened his mouth to try and defend himself, before letting out a frustrated grumble.

"Oh, buck it, let's just move on."

Some time later, Shrink remained in his office, scribbling on his notepad. However, the Prince had long since departed, and now the figure standing before him was of Blueblood's not-particularly-close relative, Princess Celestia. She looked down at him, her eyes inquisitive.

"So, my friend, were you able to learn anything useful about the Prince and his... condition?"

Shrink chuckled quietly at that.

"Ah, yes, his condition. What the great physician Haylen once called affluenza. A mentality affecting those born into wealth and privilege, and who never had to work an honest day in their lives to earn any of it. Yes, indeed, he is a prime case of that. Quite sad, really. I'm sure he could have been a nice fellow if he hadn't been spoiled rotten."

Celestia shook her head, not entirely convinced.

"Possibly, but I don't think you should discount just how much he simply enjoys being cruel to other ponies. I've seen him threaten to throw little fillies in the dungeon just for bumping into him, you know. Empty threats, maybe, but he still seems to get a disturbing amount of enjoyment from bullying others. I suppose some ponies just never grow out of that mindset, do they?"

Shrink flicked his ear.

"You'd know that better than I, Tia. I may be old, but I've got nothing on you."

Celestia blushed sheepishly.

"You didn't have to remind me."

The counselor snorted a bit, leaning back in his chair.

"Why not? Every pony I talk to these days can't help but tell me how old I am. It's nice to have someone around who's even older than me, so I don't feel quite so bucking ancient."

Celestia smiled a little, but it was an expression that held extreme sadness behind it.

"Indeed. I wish I had the same luxury."

Shrink quickly frowned, realizing what he had accidentally just done.

"Oh, blast it all. I didn't mean to... you know..."

Celestia took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes.

"I know. Let's just get back on track."

Shrink nodded, not wishing to further aggravate her existential woes.

"Of course. As I said, Blueblood is spoiled so bad that he probably defecates loose change. The thing is, he's not stupid. I know stupid. No, as far as I can tell, he seems to be quite intelligent, but he's stuck in some pretty poor ways of thinking."

Celestia raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Do go on."

Shrink took a quick breath.

"For one, he is an unrepentant racist. I don't know why, but he has some serious issues with the Mareoccans. I wasn't able to get much else out of him about that, at least nothing that would be acceptable for fillies and colts to hear. Additionally, he seems to genuinely believe that the world revolves solely around him. In his present state of mind, I'd be surprised if he's even capable of considering what effects his actions will have on other ponies, much less caring about that."

Celestia rubbed her chin with a hoof, murmuring thoughtfully.

"I figured the second part out myself. But the first... are you sure? I thought he was just using those slurs to demean the Caliph out of spite."

Shrink sighed.

"Well, I'm sure spite did play a role. But... well, call it what you want. Intuition, Shrinky Sense, whatever. I think I've been in this profession long enough to know when there's something else at play. I don't believe that Blueblood developed those sentiments on his own, at least not entirely. Of course, he's not the type of stallion who is going to be opening up anytime soon, so I have to ask you a favor."

Celestia looked at him oddly.

"A favor? What exactly are you thinking, here?"

Shrink scratched his snout.

"Nothing too big. I just need you to get someone to delve into Blueblood's personal life and gather some details for me. Not just about what might be behind his hatred of the Mareoccans, but also anything that might help to explain why he is this much of a brat."

Celestia's ears flopped a little as she looked at him with an unamused expression.

"You have an interesting definition of 'nothing too big', Shrink. How exactly do you suppose we do this without him catching on?"

A thoughtful grin slowly stretched across the counselor's saggy lips.

"Well, if I know spoiled nobles, they usually have a soft spot for the mares. And I know spoiled nobles."

Celestia rolled her eyes.

"Oh, no, you're not suggesting we..."

Shrink nodded eagerly.

"Yes, I'm suggesting we honeypot him. Now who's the prettiest mare of them all, in your estimation? I don't get out much, myself."

Celestia closed her eyes, giving the question some thought.

"Well, I... I'm not quite sure. I can think of a few prominent beauty icons, but none that I would trust to keep this a secret. Except perhaps... Rarity?"

Shrink looked intrigued by the suggestion.

"Rarity, you say? The Element of Generosity? She is certainly easy on the eyes, I'll say that much. She's become quite successful in fashion circles, too, if I recall. Perhaps that will be enough to get Blueblood to acknowledge her existence."

Celestia nodded slowly.

"Yes, she would be an ideal candidate for this mission. The problem is that she and the Prince already met during the Grand Galloping Gala a few years ago. And... well, let's just say using your date as an unwilling pastry shield isn't the best way to leave a good impression."

Shrink winced.

"Oh, yuck. That's low, even for Blueblood."

Celestia turned around and walked up to the door, primarily in order to silently admire Shrink's truly quite excellent plushie collection. Sighing in contemplation as she stared into the expressive eyes of a plushie made in an almost frighteningly exact likeness of herself, she replied.

"It's all too normal in his relationships with mares, I'm afraid. And I believe that will be the hardest thing to do here. Rarity is rather stubborn, and it would likely be very difficult - perhaps even impossible - to convince her to spend time with the Prince, even if it was to spy on him."

Shrink shrugged his shoulders.

"I've never met her, so I can't offer any advice on that. But considering she's an Element of Harmony, and you're the Princess, I think you might have better luck than most with convincing her to help."

Celestia murmured in response, changing her focus from the plushie of herself to one of her protege, Twilight Sparkle. She guessed that it had been made before her ascension to alicornhood, as the plushie lacked any noticeable wings. Then again, it was also possible that the maker of the plushie had simply refused to include the wings out of spite. Some ponies were just stubborn like that.

"Yes, you may be right about that. I'll travel to Ponyville tomorrow and speak with her. In the meantime, continue these sessions. Everyday if possible, every three at the very least. Hopefully, the threat of losing his royal privileges will spur some change in him, even if it is purely out of self-interest."

Shrink dipped his head in the most significant form of bow his frail body could accomplish.

"As you say, Princess. I wish you the best of luck."

Celestia turned to face him briefly, her expression completely serious.

"No, keep it. You're going to need it a lot more than I will."