Author's Note

Alrighty, I think this chapter will wrap up a set for another twelve hours or so in hopes that I can get some sleep. Prepare for feels on all fronts.

Enjoy!

Wake

For the first time in many years, Blueblood dreamed.

Sleep for him was typically an inky black void of nothingness. He did not have wild adventures in his sleep, or see colors even. Sleep was just a blacking out between night and morning. Nothing more. But today, he did dream. More specifically, he remembered. He saw his mother’s face clearly for the first time in so many years. He could hear the sound of her voice like she was right by him. He saw her dazzling smile. He hadn’t wanted to stay asleep at any point in his life he could remember, but that day, he could have slept forever. When the dream inevitably faded from his consciousness, and he woke, his eyes twitched open, and he took in his surroundings. In that twilight state of not being awake but neither being asleep, he thought for a fleeting moment he was still a child waiting for his Mother to come and get him after a nap.

And then, it all flooded back. Where he was, what he was doing here, and what he was wearing. Shame bubbled up inside of him, and anger too. He was angry that for one moment he could have possibly forgotten that Mommy was-

His eyes popped open completely as he realized the term in which he had just thought his mother, and another memory came. He had called her Mommy until he was around six years old. At that point, his father had told him to refer to her as his Mother. At the time, he hadn’t understood why. He did now. It was unbecoming of a prince to be so attached to anypony. It was around that time he had stopped calling Celestia “Auntie” as well, and was made to refer to her as “Princess” or “Your Majesty”, “Your Highness” or “My Liege”. All of it had been for the sake of appearances.

There was no point to clinging to appearances now. His diaper was proof of that.

Mesma came over to the crib and let down the side. “Good nap?” She asked.

Blueblood nodded, but was clearly deep in thought.

Mesma sat down by the open crib, sensing that he wasn’t going to move yet. “Anything on your mind you want to talk about?” She asked him.

He looked at her for a moment, confused. “I thought that this…” He trailed off.

She seemed to understand where he was going with that. “Blueblood, this place is supposed to be a safe space. You can talk about whatever you want here, and be anypony you want here as long as you’re kind. You’re supposed to be treated like a foal here, and foals learn to communicate their feelings. Talking is just as important as the actual treatment itself.”

He considered her words, weighed them for a long time. Then, he spoke. “I dreamed of her.”

Mesma needed no clarification of who “her” was. “I see. How did it make you feel?”

“I’m… not sure.” He said. His feelings were a jumbled up mess and he was confused about why he was thinking about her so much in the first place. He didn’t like feeling like he was caught in his emotions. All his life he had been taught that emotions were weakness, and that were he to show them, he would be vulnerable, something a prince should never be. He was angry and confused and sad and worried and uncertain and stressed, so many things all at once, and it was making his head spin.

Mesma nodded. “It can be hard to figure out. I’m sure you have a lot of emotions attached to that.”

“Yes.” Blueblood said distractedly. He was straining to keep his emotions at bay. Not audibly, but internally.

Now a mother herself, Mesma saw his internal conflict and put a hoof on his shoulder, to which he looked up at her.

“It’s okay, you know. To cry for her. It’s okay to miss somepony.”

“It’s not. It’s not what Prince’s are supposed to do. We are supposed to be the stronghold on which Everypony relies. We are supposed to be unshakable. How in Equestria can I be that if I break down over somepony I can barely remember anymore?” He asked.

“You’re not a prince in here, Bluey Bear. And she wasn’t just anypony, she was your Mommy. Children come into this world programmed to love their parents. Just because you do not remember much of her does not mean that you don’t love her. It’s as much a part of you as your name. She wouldn’t want you to hold this in. She would want you to feel better. That’s what Mommies do.” Her voice was so gentle and tender as she rubbed his shoulder.

They were the words he needed to hear. The walls he’d built between him and his pent up and repressed emotions fell, and he decided he was finally free to feel.

Suddenly, some invisible dam began to break. He sensed it but wasn't quick enough to stop it. Dozens of emotions were rushing past him at a hundred miles per hour, so quickly that he couldn't stop them or even glimpse their name. His head was spinning at all of these feelings filled him, and he quickly felt like he was going to drown. This was perhaps confirmed in what may have been a moment of insanity for him when he swore he felt water on his hoof. And when he reached out to touch it, it was real. Inadvertently he looked up at the ceiling, thinking that maybe there was a leak in the room, before he realized that was impossible, because they had checks done monthly at every wing of the castle for such problems. It took him a moment, longer than he would have liked to admit, to realize that he, the great and mighty Prince Blueblood, was crying. This was confirmed when he felt wetness sliding down his cheek.

Then, without warning, he burst into tears. Finally, he could cry.