In the Bleak Midwinter

by Brasta Septim

Rating: teen
Tags: Prince Blueblood, Fancypants, Fleur de Lis, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad
Length: 2071

Prince Blueblood thinks he's going to spend Hearth's Warming Eve alone. He has never been more grateful to be proven wrong.

Prince Blueblood has everything he could ever want- wealth, power, food, wine. But on Hearth's Warming Eve, he realises he lacks what he truly wants- somepony who genuinely wants him around. Or so he thinks, until a late visitor helps him see that happiness does not have to be so hard to find. In fact, it's right in front of his face.

Part of the Shadows of Canterlot universe. Title inspired by the poem of the same name, by Christina Rosetti.

Published 2016-12-28 12:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-12-28 12:50:01 UTC

Long Ago

It was Hearth’s Warming Eve, and in the city of Canterlot, the frosty wind blew fiercely. The earth and the streets stood hard as iron to any hooves that dared to tread outside, water like a stone. From the cloudy sky fell constant flurries, snow upon snow upon snow, blanketing every last inch of the city beneath a few generous inches of white like icing on a gingerbread house.

In the midst of this gloomy atmosphere, there was yet warmth to be found. Within their houses, the families of the city stayed indoors, only occasionally glancing outside the frosted windowpanes. Outside was a darkness like no other, a chillness colder than any winter before. But inside, there was a light brighter than the blazing noon, a glow warmer than the heat of June. Families broken and estranged were joined together for a night, friends who hadn’t spoken to each other in ages laughing together as if they hadn’t been gone a day, lovers joined together as they melted into the embrace of the other.

It was not so for everypony, however.

Across the city, a pair of dim blue eyes stared down at the street, wishing, for once he was outside. Anywhere but here was preferable, Blueblood thought dismally as he turned away. He looked at himself in the mirror above his dresser, unsurprised by seeing in his reflection a bleary-eyed mess. His blonde mane was askew, his dark burgundy dressing gown well-worn, and there was a stain across his front which he vaguely remembered was brandy. In other words, he looked frightfully dishevelled.

It didn’t matter, of course, since he was trapped here, in his house. The opulence surrounding him was little comfort- a gilded prison of one’s own devising was still a prison nonetheless. He could have had company, of course- but who would want to keep him company tonight, when they had their own families, their own lives to attend to? He’d asked a few of his friends if they would visit, but they had their own prior obligations and declined. Even his relatives were away; Aunt Luna on a diplomatic mission, Aunt Celestia busy hosting the Hearth's Warming Pageant, and his sister in the Crystal Empire. He knew it wasn’t personal, he knew that. But that still didn’t change the fact that he was lonely.

It had been like this for over a month now, and he had no idea why- nothing had changed. He still went outside during the day to visit his friends, still sat and talked with them, still went about his normal business. But he couldn’t help but, whenever he got home, feel like the passion that had once driven him had dulled to a barely-lit ember. Elegant painted walls were no comfort, drink and food that he normally enjoyed were bitter to the taste. Even his interactions with his friends didn’t have the warmth it once did. It wasn’t their fault, of course. It wasn’t anypony’s fault. It was just the way it was.

That didn’t help him feel any better, of course.

With a snort, he sank into the deep velvet covers of his bed, staring up at the ceiling at a bright fresco of pegasi in flight. They looked all so very happy, he thought with a little bit of bitterness, flying about here and there. No worries, no petty concerns, just enjoying themselves with pure, unrestrained, innocent delight.

It had been a long time since he’d felt like that. Oh, he’d tried to approximate it; parties, drinking, sex, but it still often left him feeling as if he was just trying to dam up a void that stubbornly refused to be filled. He... he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, really.

He knew what he wanted, of course; he wanted to not be lonely anymore. No, wait, that wasn’t quite accurate. He wanted... he wanted to feel wanted. As if somepony, anypony wanted him around. Not because he threw extravagant parties, not because of his name or status or title. But because they wanted to be around him because he enjoyed his company.

That was a rare enough thing, though. After all, why would anypony want to be around him, besides for what he could offer them? He wasn’t the most pleasant of ponies. He was, to be frank, an oversensitive, shallow pony who pretended he was a lot better than he was. He acted as if he was above the common masses, free of troubles and carries, wasting money like it was water. And for what? So the nobleponies who expected him to act like that would condescend to pay attention to him, while repulsing any sensible pony of lesser eminence? To keep up his image of being the perfect royalty, in hopes he might not disgrace his family any more than he already had.

Had he done something wrong? He’d done everything he thought was necessary to be liked. He had offered his guests and acquaintances anything they might desire. He’d tried to keep his personal issues behind a mask so it wouldn’t bother them. He would gladly give anypony who wanted it his utmost attention if they so desired- he wasn’t very good at talking, so it was much easier to listen, anyways.

He knew what he wanted, how he wanted others to see him, but he had no idea how to do it. If his more personal methods had been ineffective, his larger-scale ones had failed miserably. He had tried being a flamboyant hedonist, only to get ridicule from most and fleeting attention from others that rarely lasted beyond a night or two. He had tried to make himself appear respectable by involving himself in religion, in the Mysteries and its priesthood. This earned him only accusations of hypocrisy and further judgement. He had tried politics, only to be regarded as a lazy incompetent who was hungry for yet more power. As if he wanted it- power didn’t make him happy. In fact, it just made him more hated.

What was a pony like him to do, then? He... he didn’t know! All he really could do at the moment was lie there, pull the covers over his head, and pray for tomorrow to come quickly. That’s what usually worked for him, anyways.

After pondering for a while what to do, he finally decided rest was the best option. Blueblood sighed, reaching for the lamp at his bedside to turn it off. He lay there in the darkness, his eyes closed as he did his best to drift off to sleep.

He was not, however, expecting to hear a knock at the door. “Hello? Are you in there?”

The prince jolted awake, staring around the darkened room as if expecting invisible windigoes to come out of the shadows. “Wh-what? Who is it?”

There was a chuckle from the other side of the door, followed by another, softer knock. “Come to the door, and you’ll find out.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Blueblood climbed out of bed, turning on the light so he could see where he was going. He was no fit state to entertain, so whoever it was would have to just deal with his appearance as it was. He unlatched the door, cracking it open as he began to speak. “Look, I’m sure you have much better things to do tonight than spending it-”

His eyes went wide as the door swung all the way open, as he looked into another pair of blue eyes. “Evening, Blue,” said the older white stallion standing in the doorway, looking down at him with a warm smile.

“Fa- Fancy,” he breathed. “What are you doing here? It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve.”

“Which is exactly why I’m here,” Fancy Pants replied jovially. “You don’t think I’d just leave you here, on tonight of all nights, to sit around and brood, did you?”

Blueblood swallowed. He had thought that, actually. Not that Fancy would’ve been wrong for doing so, of course. “Well, no, I just thought you’d be... you know, at home, celebrating with Fleur and the others-”

“I was. Then they asked me why you weren’t there. I had no reasonable explanation, so I came here to get you and bring you home, to celebrate with us. Unless you have some objection-”

“No!” the prince practically shouted, his ears drooping in embarrassment before he lowered his volume. “...I mean, no, I don’t.”

Fancy nodded approvingly, reaching a hoof towards Blueblood. “Good. Because even if you did, you’d be coming with me anyway. My carriage is right outside.”

Blueblood glanced around, fidgeting nervously. “Are... are you sure? I mean, I know I must look quite a fright at the moment.”

Fancy shot him an incredulous look. “...Blue, it’s Hearth’s Warming. What does it matter if you look a little worse-for-wear?”

“But I... it’s a party and I’m not... er, it’s cold outside...” He could feel his worries fading under Fancy’s amused gaze. He sighed, finally cracking a smile as he reached his hoof towards Fancy’s. “... I’ll get my coat.”

The carriage ride to Fancy’s villa was uneventful, as expected. As he sat, leaning back against the seat, he mulled over exactly how he thought this night was going to go. He would just show up at the party, socialise for a few hours, watch others exchange presents, and be back at home before dawn. Yes, that sounded like a reasonable plan.

As the carriage slowed down to a halt in front of the house, he took a deep breath. He could do this. Just a few hours, and he’d be out of their manes without any trouble. With that in mind, he marched up to the door behind Fancy, and stepped over the threshold... before suddenly finding himself being tackled by a light purple mare. “Blueblood, you actually came!”

“Pe-petunia... you’re choking me...”

“Oh, whoops, sorry!” He fell to the floor, not sure whether to be happy about her enthusiastic greeting or bemused about getting tackled to the floor. After a second’s thought he decided on the latter.

Blueblood quickly stood up again, brushing himself off and shooting the mare a smile, “Yes, I did. It’s good to see you, Petunia.”

“You too! We all thought you weren’t going to come tonight, so we finally sent Fancy to come and get you. And here you are!”

The prince blinked. “We? Who all is here?”

Petunia beamed. “Everypony, really. Fleur, Poppy, North, Tayriyis, Scoop, Marsh- even Padre, which is strange because you’d think he’d be with his own family.”

“And... all of them wanted me here?”

“Yes. Marsh was the one who suggested it, of course, being your client and all, but the rest of us soon agreed. I mean, it’s not a Hearth’s Warming party without you around!”

Blueblood’s ears drooped, though he tried to keep a straight face. Right. I was invited because it’s a party, and not because it’s Hearth’s Warming...

Fancy seemed to sense his distress, moving quickly to his side. “What she means is, it wouldn’t feel like Hearth’s Warming without you here. And I agree with her. This is a time for friends and family, isn’t it? And you’re our friend. Don’t think you’re invited here out of obligation or the like. You belong here tonight, with us.”

The prince’s eyes prickled a little with tears, and he turned towards Fancy with a grateful smile. “You have... no idea how much of a relief it is to hear that.”

Fancy chuckled, gently nudging Blueblood forward. “I know. Now, I think now would be the best time to make your grand entrance, hmm?”

Blueblood visibly straightened, confidence with only a small hint of trepidation flickering across his face. “Lead the way, you two.”

Petunia and Fancy glanced at each other before taking their place on either side of him. When they saw he hadn’t moved yet, staring at the far wall, Fancy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “They’re in the dining room. Now come on.”

Taking a breath, Blueblood strode forward, reluctantly at first, then with purpose until he passed through the doors of the dining room.

“Everypony, I... I have finally arrived.”

There was a moment of silence, before a chorus of voices rang out loud enough to be heard from the street outside.

“HAPPY HEARTH’S WARMING, BLUEBLOOD!”

And for the rest of the night, he wasn’t so lonely anymore.