“When one is in power, it is better to be loved than reviled. But when one is in exile, it is better to be reviled than recognized.”
Blueblood leaned back in his plush red chair and sighed as the ink on the page began to fade, replaced once more with trite lines about fashion, wealth, and the various other distractions of the Canterlot nobility. The spell was a simple one: so long as he maintained it, one layer of ink would vanish and another would be revealed, and when he allowed the magic to cease, the book returned to the way it was before.
A simple spell, the sort a child would use--but under the proper circumstances, the simplest tricks were often the most effective. Few in Canterlot might think to spy in his private journal as it was, and if they did, then all they would see would be the writings of an obvious fool.
In truth, he very rarely indulged reading the true words himself, but after the events of the long evening he’d just left behind, he felt that a reminder of certain wisdoms was needed.
He sat up straight when he heard a knock at the door, and quickly shelved the book. Pushing himself away from his desk, he walked casually over to the door, giving his guest ample time to wait, pausing along the way to check his image in the mirror: tie undone, mane attractively messy. He whisked a goblet of sparkling cider from the nearby bar, and the image of princely dishevelment was complete.
“And to whom and what do we owe the pleasure of this interruption?” he inquired as he opened the door.
When he saw who was standing in the outside hall, flanked by royal guards on both sides, his exaggerated smile became a genuine one. “Ah, madame Octavia, what a delightful surprise! Gentlecolts, please, we do wish you would be a little less aggressive in keeping such lovely instruments away from us.”
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Quite.”
The guards parted, allowing her access to the door, which Blueblood opened wide with a smile. “By all means, do come in and have a nightcap--and gentlecolts, please, discretion,” he added with a wink towards the guards.
Octavia entered without a word, and Blueblood closed the door behind her, humming quietly as he passed his horn over the frame, sealing the room tight with a whisper of magic. As the spell settled into place, he breathed a sigh of relief, and his exaggerated posture relaxed.
“Lovely instruments?” Octavia asked after a moment, raising an eyebrow coolly.
“Technically a compliment, you know,” Blueblood answered, finishing off his glass in one gulp. “Were you followed?”
“After that debacle?” Octavia sat down in one of the chairs next to the fireplace. “It’ll be a week before the Canterlot upper crust can even make eye contact with one another.”
Blueblood couldn’t help but grin at that. “It was quite glorious, wasn’t it? Half the castle falling down and all of Canterlot chasing their tails. Amazing how much chaos a few fillies can sow.”
Octavia brushed a bit of dust from her shoulder. “Well, they are the Champions of Harmony. I hardly think the term fillies really applies--especially for that mare you had clinging to your side all evening.”
Blueblood scoffed. “Lady Rarity, you mean? If her eyes were any greener, she could use them in one of those dresses of hers. She’s the Element of Charity as much as I’m the son of Luna.”
Octavia worked the embers in the fireplace with a poker. “What was it you said to me, once? I believe it was ‘there are many kinds of camouflage, including unintentional.’ She and the others could be your peers eventually, if the Elements chose them; I wouldn’t dismiss any of them on a first impression alone.”
Blueblood looked pensive for a moment, then his mouth twisted into a self-effacing smirk and he raised his empty glass towards Octavia. “Touché.”
Octavia finished stoking the embers into a proper fire, and looked back up at Blueblood. “So, why did you call me here? I doubt you just wanted to banter.”
Blueblood set his glass down on the bar, and took the seat across from Octavia. “Well, as you said, the Gala’s thrown Canterlot into chaos, and it’s likely to stay there for a while yet. Seems like the perfect time to slip out of the city for a little vacation, don’t you think?”
Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘vacation.’”
Blueblood looked over her shoulder, scanning the bookshelf on the far wall. He located the volume he was looking for on the bottom shelf--ostensibly, the place reserved for books never touched--and levitated it over to flip through the pages.
“Myths of the Great and Powerful,” he explained as he turned to the proper chapter. “It’s a scholarly look at some of Starswirl the Bearded’s manuscripts. You wouldn’t believe the insults I had to drop about the man before young Miss Sparkle sent me this as an ‘educational gift.’”
“There is a line between caution and paranoia,” Octavia opined. “I doubt it would have killed your image to check out a book at the library.”
“It mostly concerns magical research and the taming of the Everfree Forest,” Blueblood continued, pointedly ignoring her remarks. “But there’s a brief section which I found particularly enlightening... ah, here we are. Have a look.”
He floated the book over to Octavia, and she scanned the page quickly, her brow furrowing. She looked back up at him with a questioning expression. “Tartarus? What exactly does an underworld full of monsters have to do with anything?”
“Not monsters,” Blueblood answered. “If you want monsters, take a trip to the Everfree Forest. I know that’s the word the author and most everyone else uses, but Starswirl’s original notes in Old Equestrian are included; I believe ‘horrors’ would be a better translation.”
Octavia set the book in her lap and rested her head on one of her hooves patiently. “The distinction being...?”
Blueblood leaned forward conspiratorially. “Monsters are simple. They’re dangerous, yes, but they’re basically animals, and they can be dealt with like any other animal. What Starswirl sealed away in Tartarus, on the other hand, they’re intelligent--intelligent, ancient and dangerous. It’s the place the dragons would have gone if it weren’t for the Accords.”
Octavia’s eyes narrowed as she worked out what he meant. “You can’t be seriously considering going there.”
“Think about it,” Blueblood answered. “These are people that Celestia and Luna locked away at the height of their power, when the Elements still listened to them. Locked away, not turned to stone or really defeated. If there’s anyone who has a chance of helping us, it will be one of them.”
“Setting aside how ridiculous a notion it is to open a door that Starswirl locked, is it really necessary for me to point out that they could just as easily turn their sights on Nails as Equestria?” Octavia asked. “Freedom without war. Your words, not mine.”
“And nothing’s changed,” Blueblood answered. “Honestly, Octavia, if you think I’d propose something like this without having a plan that I know will work, you give me too little credit.”
Octavia closed the book and set it aside, staring into the dancing embers of the fire. “All right, I’ll hear you out. No promises beyond that.”
Blueblood smiled eerily. “And promises are entirely the point.” He nodded towards the book. “If you’d read the rest of the chapter you’d know what I mean, but I’ll give you the salient details.”
He turned towards the fire, and used his magic to shape the flames and smoke into imagery that complemented his storytelling. “There are quite a lot of horrors locked away in Tartarus--more than you would believe--but one in particular very nearly brought Equestria to its knees. According to Starswirl’s telling, she could slip through any border, charm any heart into giving her what she wanted. She could become anypony she desired, and fed off of the love of others, turning that love into more creatures like herself. They called her Chrysalis, the Changeling Queen.”
The fire took the shape of an emaciated and terifying mare, and the room seemed suddenly colder, as if a draft had somehow blown through. Blueblood’s dramatic flair, no doubt, but it gave Octavia just a whisper of gooseflesh all the same.
“She was eventually cornered and driven into Tartarus when Starswirl discovered a critical weakness of hers,” Blueblood continued. “While she was disguised, she could mimic anypony’s voice and mannerisms, everything that made them who they were. She was a brilliant liar, a trickster beyond measure--but always and only while she was pretending to be somepony else. That’s the trick that Starswirl figured out; so long as she was in her true form, she could not tell a lie.”
The fires changed into a march of smaller but similar creatures, with Chrysalis and a bearded figure standing before them. “The armies of Equestria chased her people into Tartarus, and she promised to follow them there so long as they were not harmed. And she kept her promise; she had no choice.”
Blueblood looked up from the fire. “So, you see, it’ll all be fine. We simply need to go to Tartarus, find this Queen Chrysalis and make a bargain with her. We both get our freedom, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt anypony. She won’t be able to.”
“'Simply.'” Octavia shook her head slowly. “Every contract has a loophole; you should know that better than anyone. If you’ve started thinking otherwise, you’re even more of a fool than you pretend to be.”
“If you’re saying that you won’t help me, I respect that decision and don’t think any less of you for it.” Blueblood leaned forward. “But I stand a much better chance of succeeding with you than without you. I’m asking you to trust me. Please.”
Octavia stared him in the eye for a long moment, finally looking away, closing her eyes and sighing. “This is madness. But I suppose madness is what I agreed to.” She looked back up at him. “Very well, I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”
Blueblood smiled warmly, and leaned back in his chair. “Just ask for some time away from the orchestra to accompany Princess Celestia’s favorite ‘nephew’ on one of his infamous hunting trips. I’ll give you the rest of the details on the road.”
“I’m not fond of dodging questions, Prince,” Octavia answered. “It tends to mean you have more to hide than usual.”
“If you want more details, finish that chapter,” Blueblood answered, nodding towards the book she’d set aside. “Else we’ll be here all night while I give you the proper background to understand what I’m talking about. Trust me, I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the time comes.”
“I’m not fond of saying ‘trust me,’ either,” Octavia said as she tucked the book into her saddlebag. “Especially when you say it twice. So when should we be leaving?”
Blueblood stood up to walk her to the door. “Three days, barring any troubles. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“I’ll make the arrangements,” Octavia answered.
“Good. Watch your back, Octavia,” Blueblood said.
“And you as well, Prince,” Octavia answered with a nod, opening the door to leave.
“Oh, and one more thing!” Blueblood added in his Royal Twit voice once she was beyond the threshold.
She paused, and turned back around to face him. “Yes, your highness?”
He smiled winningly. “Don’t forget to bring your cello next time. We do so enjoy your music.”
Octavia raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Yes, your highness.”
“Magnificent. Now go on, then, we require our beauty sleep,” Blueblood answered, then closed the door behind her.
The guards, as ever, remained impassive, as Octavia walked off quietly down the hall, leaving the prince to his schemes...
“Just a little to the left, dears... ah, perfect.”
Madam Darjeeling smiled the pleased sort of smile that only a middle-aged governess could manage, as the great bronze statue of Princess Celestia was settled back into its proper place. It was the first and simplest of the repairs that the castle grounds needed, but it made all the difference in the world as far as she was concerned.
“Oh, I’d hardly say ‘perfect.’ Honestly, that old statue is so tacky I’d take the opportunity to replace it.”
The grey-haired mare pressed her eyes closed, braced herself, and forced her smile to return before turning to greet the owner of the unmistakable voice. “Prince Blueblood, how kind of you to grace us with your presence. And what might I do for you, sir?”
“Aside from taking our expert decorating advice, you mean?” Blueblood asked, puffing out his chest and smiling winningly. “You could answer a question. Where might Dear Auntie Celestia be hiding this morning? She isn’t in the solarium or the throne room.”
“She’s in conference with Princess Cadenza in the gardens, sir,” Madam Darjeeling answered politely.
“Princess Cadence?” Blueblood raised an eyebrow pointedly. “And what on earth could they be talking about at this dreadful hour?”
“Wouldn’t know, sir,” the governess answered, glancing disapprovingly at the clock on the wall which had the time at nearly eleven in the morning. “Could be royal business, of course, but I’d wager it’s a private matter, if I might be so bold. If you’d like, sir, I can inform the Princess that you wish to see her as soon as she’s--”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Blueblood interrupted, trotting past her towards the door which led to the gardens, still broken from last night’s outburst by Miss Fluttershy. “I can find her quite well on my own.”
“But sir, I--”
“Bronze is out of fashion, and self-sculptures are just garish. Try something in polished stone--perhaps a family member, if I might be so bold?” Blueblood added, glancing over his shoulder at the governess with a smug smile. “And no, no, there’s no need to thank me; it’s what I do.”
Madam Darjeeling waited until the Prince was out of view, and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Princess Celestia had taken him under her wing. After a suitably brief moment indulging her irritation, she looked back up at the ponies working to get the ballroom back in its proper state and sighed.
“All right, everypony, back to work, now. Those pillars aren’t going to replace themselves...”
~ ~ ~
The Gardens were much quieter than usual this morning--none too surprising, seeing as how half of the usual residents were still hiding around the castle grounds. The silence, Princess Cadence felt, leant a certain gravity to the talk she was having with her royal Aunt.
Of course, any talk with Princess Celestia carried weight. It was impossible not to feel small next to the great white alicorn whose broad shoulders and mighty wings carried the burden of the sun and moon. She was old and powerful, and even her gentlest words had the force of that power behind them.
Which, of course, made disagreeing with her all the more difficult.
“Forgive me, Princess, but I just don’t understand,” Princess Cadence said, pawing the ground dejectedly. “It’s not like I’m really needed here.”
“My dear little Cadence.” Princess Celestia looked down on the crestfallen alicorn. “You’re family, of course you’re needed.”
“I know that.” Princess Cadence looked up. “And you’ve been good to me, and I appreciate that, but... well, you’re not my only family. Besides, your sister’s been back for months now, and it seems like you hardly ever see her. Maybe you two could be closer if you didn’t have to worry so much about the rest of us.”
“Oh, Cadence.” Princess Celestia set one of her wings around Cadence’s shoulders and gently guided her along the path, the sun beaming warmly down on them from between the branches of the trees. “Your heart is in the right place, but you’re very young, and El Dressage is very far away. There’s still so much for you to learn while you’re here, and I just can’t bring myself to send you away until I’m sure you’re ready.”
Princess Cadence’s ears flattened against her head, and her wings visibly wilted. “If you say so...”
They continued along the path in somber, uncomfortable silence for several paces, until finally Princess Celestia spoke up. “Oh, very well. I was hoping to save this as a surprise, but seeing you so upset just breaks my heart.”
Princess Cadence looked up, her face puzzled, and saw that that Princess Celestia was indulging in one of her peculiar smiles that glowed with motherly mischief. It was the smile she reserved for times of generosity, when she was about to bless one of her loyal subjects with a gift. In Cadence’s experience, whether the recipient would share the Princess’s enthusiasm was rather hit or miss, but she’d never seen anyone truly regret being on the receiving end.
“Yes...?” she asked, with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
Princess Celestia’s smile deepened. “Well, two weeks from now--”
“Ah, there you are!”
The interruption stopped Princess Celestia mid-sentence, and she and Princess Cadence looked back towards the source of the unmistakable voice. In Princess Cadence’s experience, he was one of the very few who were actually capable of stopping Princess Celestia mid-sentence.
“My darling nephew,” Princess Celestia greeted, her smile never faltering.
“Auntie dearest,” Prince Blueblood answered with a deep bow. “And cousin Cadence as well, I see! Not interrupting anything important, I trust.”
“Well, actually...” Cadence looked imploringly up at Princess Celestia.
“Good, good; I won’t keep you long, then,” Blueblood cut in. “Auntie, I just stopped by to inform you that I’ve been feeling a bit of cabin fever as of late, particularly after all the excitement last evening, and I’d very much like to take a few of my friends here in the capital out for a hunt.”
“I see.” Princess Celestia turned to Cadence and leaned down to speak. “My dear Cadence, would you mind giving us a moment alone? I promise, you’ll have some very good news once we’re done.”
Princess Cadence looked rather disappointed at having to wait, but she bowed gracefully to the elder alicorn without objection. “Of course, Princess.”
Princess Celestia watched as she walked down the garden path, until finally she turned a corner and vanished from sight. “Now, then,” she said as she returned her attention to her nephew. “You were saying something about a hunt?”
“Just something to keep my hoof in,” Prince Blueblood answered, nonchalantly polishing his collar. “As I said, a bit of cabin fever from being cooped up in the capital for so long. Thought I’d take a few ponies out for an old Nelsh coursing in the Everfree. I'd wager the menagerie could use some refilling after last night, at any rate.”
Princess Celestia chuckled. “Funny how all my little ponies are trying to leave the capital today. Is cleaning up the castle really so scary that you’d rather spend your time in the Everfree Forest?”
“Auntie, dearest, you know I’m no good with manual labor,” Blueblood answered. “And I dare say my input is too avant garde for any redecorating that Madam Darjeeling might engage in.”
“Well, she does admire her Canterlot traditions,” Princess Celestia answered with a fond, tinkling laugh dancing at the edge of her voice. “As much as you admire your Nelsh traditions, I’d say. Speaking of which, did you have a day in mind?”
“The day after tomorrow,” Prince Blueblood answered. “Should give me enough time to get everypony together and ready. Call it a week before we’re back, give or take.”
Princess Celestia nodded regally, and considered. “Very well, my dear nephew; you can leave the day after tomorrow and take whoever you like.”
Prince Blueblood smiled and bowed. “Auntie dearest, you are too kind. I--”
“On two conditions,” Princess Celestia added with a mischievous grin.
Prince Blueblood looked up, the careful expression of a cornered rabbit spreading across his face. “Two conditions?”
Princess Celestia nodded. “Very grave conditions, nephew. I daresay the future may depend on them.”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, then stood up straight and puffed out his chest. “Well, then, I can hardly think of a better pony for the job.”
“Nor can I,” Princess Celestia answered. “And the first condition is this: I want you to give Princess Cadence some good news.”
Blueblood’s posture deflated slightly. “Is that right.”
“Indeed it is, nephew,” the Princess answered, reaching into her mane and floating a hidden scroll towards him. “I was just about to tell her myself, but I think it would be better if she hears it from you.”
Prince Blueblood took the scroll and quickly scanned its contents, his eyebrows raising in genuine surprise when he reached the salient points. “In two weeks? But I thought... well, after that business in Appaloosa...”
“It was resolved before they arrived,” Princess Celestia answered with a proud smile. “Thanks to my faithful student Twilight Sparkle and her friends.”
Blueblood’s face clouded with doubt at that statement, but he tucked the scroll into his pocket without further remark on the subject. “Very well, Auntie dearest, I’ll pass along the word to cousin Cadence. And what might the other condition be?”
“There’s somepony I’d like you to take along,” Princess Celestia answered.
Blueblood nodded, waiting expectantly for the end of the sentence. It never came. “And might I ask who that somepony might be?”
“You might. But I wouldn’t answer,” Princess Celestia answered with a lighthearted chuckle. “If I can’t surprise our dear Cadence, I can at least surprise you, my little nephew.”
Blueblood sighed exaggeratedly, his posture and expression beleaguered. “As you wish, Auntie. But don’t blame me if they can’t keep up with the rest of us. My hunts stop for nopony.”
“I doubt that will be a problem, my dear nephew,” Princess Celestia answered. “But consider them warned, all the same. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should attend to Madam Darjeeling’s efforts in the ballroom.”
“Best of fortune with that, Auntie dearest.” Blueblood bowed deeply as Princess Celestia took to the sky and departed.
Once she was gone, he cast a furtive spell to see if he was being watched, and found no prying eyes or ears in the garden save for the odd animal or three. He breathed a sigh of relief, allowed his posture to relax, and walked lightly down the path, loose bits of gravel crunching beneath his hooves.
‘The future may depend on them,’ indeed, he thought with a shake of his head. Did Twilight and the other Champions really buy into that act of hers?
...Of course, his chiding inner voice reminded him, it’s not really an act, is it?
And that was the most impressive and frightening thing, really. Princess Celestia walked a fine line; she sold her age and her practically alien wisdom in a brilliantly understated way, to the point that she was just strange enough that one was never sure whether she was telling the truth or not. She played just enough of the fool that one could be drawn in by it, only to find that what you’d discounted as strange or wrong turned out to be right all along. And of course, that only made you respect her more--and Blueblood was no exception. She’d had over a thousand years of practice at this game, and she was an expert. If nothing else, he admired that about her.
Of course, the real curve she’d thrown him was one that she didn’t even know would put a kink in his plans. Octavia was an ally, and he was confident that he could gather any number of ponies that they could slip away from easily enough--but this mysterious companion that Auntie Dearest was sending along, on the other hand... Without knowing who it was, he didn’t know how to prepare, and he had barely two days to fix that.
Before he could ruminate further, however, his watch-me-not spell informed him that he was approaching someone, and he adopted his formal, arrogant persona as easily and instinctively as taking a breath.
As he rounded the corner, naturally, he came upon Princess Cadence, kneeling by a pond and watching a colorful collection of fish swim in lazy circles. She heard him approach, and looked up with a half-smile.
“Hello, again.” She looked past him for a moment. “Is the Princess waiting on me?”
“No, she had to return to the castle.” Blueblood walked over to the edge of the pond and sat down beside her, his bearing more relaxed than that of moments before. “Sorry.”
Cadence sighed. “It’s not your fault, I know she’s busy.”
“True, true,” Blueblood answered. “But I meant, I’m sorry for interrupting your talk. I believe it was something important after all.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Cadence answered, crossing her hooves and resting her chin on them.
“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Blueblood said. “Since Auntie Dearest couldn’t tell you herself, she passed the news along to me: in two weeks, Shining Armor is coming back to Canterlot.”
The change in Princess Cadence was immediate and dramatic. She sat straight up, her eyes widened, and a cautious smile spread across her face. “Do you mean it?”
Blueblood took the scroll out of his pocket with a smile. “Dear cousin, I cannot tell a lie. Appaloosa’s already been taken care of, so the guard is coming home early. You can read for yourself, if you like.”
Cadence looked down at the scroll, then back up at him, and her cautious smile turned into a genuinely happy grin as she tackle-hugged him. “Oh, thank you so much, B.B.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger, cousin,” Blueblood answered, gently pushing her away.
“Very funny.” Cadence rubbed at her eyes and sniffed as she pulled away. “But really, thank you. I’ve been missing home so much lately, I just...”
“I know.” Blueblood stood up. “But who needs El Dressage when you have such a dashing stallion right here in Canterlot, is that what you’re thinking?” he added with a wry grin.
“Oh, hush,” Cadence answered as she leaped to her feet with a flap of her wings. “...But yes. If home’s waited this long already, I guess it can wait another two weeks. Two weeks, B.B.! Oh, it’s a month sooner than I was expecting, but now it seems so long! Funny how that works, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Blueblood answered with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“Well, maybe some day you will,” Princess Cadence answered. “Anyway, I won’t keep you, I know you have a trip to plan. Thanks again, B.B. Later!”
And with that abbreviated farewell, she took to the sky with a leap. Off to make plans for when her One True Love returned to Canterlot, no doubt, Blueblood thought.
He sighed once she was out of sight and he was alone again. ‘Who needs El Dressage,’ he’d said, and she’d agreed with him. But she did need the place, as much as he needed Nails.
He looked deep into the pond, watching the fish swim beneath his pale reflection; not a one of them, he knew, had been born there. Those who frequented the city had a saying: ‘Once you’ve been to Canterlot, nowhere else is really home.’ And by the sounds of it, Princess Cadence was starting to believe it.
Of course, that wasn’t purely Princess Celestia’s doing. Cadence loved her like she was family, but it was Shining Armor that made Canterlot feel like home. Which was yet another reminder that, in the game of freedom, affection was a weakness. If you didn’t keep your head, it could make you lose your way.
But still, he added, as he watched the fading trail of stardust that Cadence had left behind reflected on the surface of the pond. As far as weaknesses go, one could do much, much worse.
As these thoughts drew to a close, a lazy fly dipped just a little too close to the water, and a stark white fish leaped up, swallowing it in one gulp and turning the smooth mirror of the pond into a mess of ripples.
His reverie broken, Prince Blueblood of Nails left the garden behind to gather a few good ponies for a trip through the Everfree Forest...
