Tempest Shadow, Meter Maid of Doom!
So far, it wasn’t the worst first date.
One could never go wrong with dinner at Le Requin de Verre, and his company for the day seemed pleasant enough. Basiljet wasn’t the worst-looking pegasus mare he had ever encountered, and her family was on the rich side, so she probably wasn’t a gold digger.
“So, Blueblood,” she purred, “may I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” he whispered and smiled. And she knew what the name of the restaurant translates to, which means that she’s intelligent!
“How long does Princess Celestia plan to keep up the act about raising the sun every morning?”
His smile froze in place. And she knew what the name of the restaurant translates to, which means that she knows three Prench words, he silently corrected himself. Maybe not even that if she just looked up the name in advance. “Beg your pardon?” he finally asked.
Basiljet laughed lightly. “I know, I know.” She gave him the worst conspiratorial wink. “Princess Celestia of course raises the sun, as we all know, ha ha.”
He blinked. Then he blinked again for good measure. “She... does, yes...”
“Oh! Oh no!” Her smile faltered. “I’m so sorry! I thought you had realized!”
“...realized what?” he asked, his voice already half an octave higher than normal.
She leaned over the table and beckoned him to do the same. “Princess Celestia does not raise the sun,” she whispered, as if afraid that one of the two Royal Guards behind him might pounce her, and gave him a dead-serious look. “The sun does not, in fact, move around the planet.”
He could feel the ground falling away from under his hooves. She’s a heliocentrist, he realized with growing horror. I somehow managed to ask out a conspiracy nutcase. “B-b-but-...” No! Don’t humor her! Don’t start! There is nothing to discuss! This is a matter of science, and the science is extremely clear on this subject: it’s magic! “But what about the moon?” NO!
“Orbits around the planet,” Basiljet told him without even having to think about it, “but not because of Princess Luna. I mean, it moved just fine while she was gone, didn’t it?”
“That makes no sense,” he whispered, somehow sounding both terrified and exasperated. “Why would the sun... but not the moon... I mean...” Also, Celestia moved both the sun and the moon, obviously. Again: science.
“I know this is a lot to take in at once,” she allowed, “but once you-...” She looked past him. “Excuse me?”
He turned around and let out a sigh of relief - one of his guards had somehow sensed that he was needed. “Your Highness,” he said, keeping his voice low to make himself heard only to the prince, “there seems to be a disturbance outside at the chariot.”
Blueblood gave him a mildly confused frown. “Disturbance” was usually a euphemism for “attack,” and it was typically spoken while he was hurriedly being escorted elsewhere, not while he was calmly sitting in a restaurant. Then again, he may not know yet how urgent the situation is. This is bad - I cannot in good faith ditch her to investigate, even if a dagger in my chest sounds more appealing than listening to any more talk about how our planet orbits around the sun. “One of you goes to check,” he finally ordered. “The other one stays.”
The guard immediately gave his colleague a nod, and the second guard trotted towards the front door.
“Trouble?” Basiljet asked, looking equal parts nervous and excited.
Yes. You’re still here, talking nonsense. “Probably just some colts heckling the two guards who pulled our ride.” He gave her a fake smile. “Anyway. You were trying to elaborate on your misguided superstitions?”
It was a conscious dig - the date had unofficially ended the moment she had started spouting conspiracy theories - and her thin-lipped smile told him that she realized as much. “Fine,” she muttered, “be that way. But next time you manage to talk to her in private, try to ask the right questions.”
He narrowed his eyes. “If I thought it’d convince you, I’d invite you to the palace so you might witness the raising of the sun with your own eyes.” When she opened her mouth to answer, he leaned forward. “Or maybe ask aunt Luna to rearrange a few stars for you? But you’d probably just invent another layer of lies to justify what you see.”
She gave him the kind of pitying look any devout cultist would give a non-believer. Then she sighed. “I guess that’s it, then? Should I just leave now, or...?”
“You don’t have to. You can still enjoy some good food - I’ll make arrangements with management to send me the bill. However, I will-...” His voice trailed off when he saw the guard marching back into the restaurant. He was not running, but he was looking shocked. “Ah, good,” he tested the waters when the guard was close enough to hear his words without him having to shout, “I was just saying that we were leaving.”
“Chariot’s gone,” the guard whispered.
“...excuse me?”
The guard grimaced. “Chariot’s gone, Your Highness.”
“Not what I meant!” Blueblood hissed. “What do you mean, the chariot is gone!?”
The guard gave him a hesitant shrug. “We parked in front of the restaurant-”
“I know!?”
“-and now that spot is vacant.” The guard shrugged again for emphasis.
“Your Highness,” the other guard whispered, “the protocol strongly suggests an immediate evacuation from the premises.”
“Fine,” Blueblood muttered and started to move to the exit, “I was just about to leave, anyway.” He ignored the quiet yelps of the guards - something about the back door and danger - and waved over a waiter. “Send any bill up to five thousand bits to the palace. If she somehow racks up more than that, shoot the bill towards the sun and see if it orbits around it.” And with that, he left the restaurant.
“Well.” He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but the chariot was indeed not where they had left it. It wasn’t like there was any uncertainty about it, either - a golden carriage, pulled by two pegasus guards in full armor, would be pretty hard to miss. “What are the odds that this is a bold attempt to negotiate better salaries?” he asked nopony in particular.
“We’re unionized, Your Highness,” one of his guards informed him curtly. “Please follow us to a safe location while we call for an armored vehicle just in case that this is part of an attempt to get at you.”
That order-slash-recommendation didn’t sit well with him. They managed to lose track of my chariot! As if I’d let them call the shots after that! “You!” Blueblood snapped at the nearest pony, a middle-aged mare who was looking far too entertained. “Peasant!”
“Peasant?” the mare asked, looking genuinely offended.
“Ah, it’s more politically correct to refer to them as commoners, or even better, citizens,” the guard next to him whispered.
“Ponies who lose my chariot don’t get to correct me,” Blueblood hissed and gave him a glare before coughing. “Fine. Citizen! You surely must’ve seen something.”
She laughed lightly in a way that was walking the fine line between amusement and condescension. “Moi?”
Blueblood knew that laugh... maybe not from this particular mare, but in general - it was the laugh of mares he had broken up with, only to later need them in some capacity. It was the main reason why he had stopped dating business owners, castle staff, nurses, doctors, and golf ball divers. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember her name. Unicorn... perfect, white coat... purple mane... I feel that she should be easy to place - this combination is sort of a rarity in this part of town...
“Why, Your Excellency, whatever makes you think that a lowly peasant such as myself might have seen something?” She batted her eyelashes in the most mocking way possible.
“It’s ‘Your Highness,’” he hissed through gritted teeth before looking up and down the street. “Aha! I’ll just ask that city official over there!” He gave her a smug grin.
Surprisingly, the mare’s smile was widening at that. “That sounds like a delightful idea, darling. Surely, this will be a much more productive conversation.”
More productive than this one, at least, Blueblood thought and rolled his eyes. He of course knew that he had wasted his one opportunity to get useful information from her. As one of Equestria’s top diplomats, he had handled much more difficult interviews and negotiations, but between his date-turned-conspiracy-debate and his chariot vanishing into thin air, he was rapidly running out of patience. Whatever. I’ll take any stallion or mare in a uniform over a peas-... citizen. “Excuse me?” he shouted when he had crossed half the distance between them.
The official turned around, and Blueblood realized several things simultaneously. First of all, she was a meter maid, which was about as low on the totem pole of city officials as one could get. Secondly, said meter maid was indeed a meter maid and not a meter... butler...? Whatever. Female. Good. And thirdly, she was probably violating several dress code rules, even if the combination of her blue uniform and bright orange vest was, strictly speaking, in order. No, it was her manestyle that bothered him: her bright rose-colored mane, though it complemented her dark orchid coat nicely, was styled into the tallest mohawk Blueblood had ever seen. Great, a wannabe rebel. She probably has piercings in the most- His eyes fixated on her forehead. -forbidden- Or rather, on her unicorn horn. -places- Or rather, on the jagged stump where her horn had apparently been snapped off. -and what in the name of all that is holy HAPPENED? He immediately took a deep breath to avoid gagging right on the spot.
“Sir?” the meter maid asked and gave him a quizzical look. If she sensed his discomfort, she didn’t make a show out of it.
Focus, focus, FOCUS! he told himself, forcing himself to look into her eyes and not at her horrible deformity. Be positive! Compliment her! Somehow! She will probably appreciate it, given how no sane pony would ever do so! “Ah, ma’am, it’s... ah... good to know that Canterlot is making good progress with its diversity hires!” ...wow, that was weak. He smiled sheepishly.
She gave him an empty stare, reinforcing his assumption that she must have been happy to score this low-skill job. “What’s a diversity hire?” she finally asked.
Oh thank goodness, she’s too uncultured to be insulted by that.
One of his guards leaned closer. “This is Tempest Shadow,” he whispered. His tone suggested urgency, but his words did not communicate the reason for it.
“You know her?” Blueblood asked, not bothering to whisper.
“Um.” The guard gave him a wide-eyed look. Then his eyes briefly flicked over to the mare who was apparently called Tempest Shadow. “She’s the henchmare-”
“Former henchmare,” Tempest Shadow corrected him sharply, looking annoyed for the first time.
“-former henchmare of the Storm King.”
“...oh.” Blueblood had been briefed on this incident. He had been on vacation far away from Canterlot when the Storm King’s forces had seized control of the city and somehow incapacitated both of his distant aunts (and Cadance, who had also been there for... reasons...?). Right. So she was likely involved in the attack. And judging from the fact that the guards agreed with her on her status as a former henchmare, she somehow got away without jail time. Probably pretended to be an ambassador or something equally ludicrous. “Well, that explains a lot,” he heard himself say even as he was processing all of this. “I thought she looked like a criminal!”
For the first time today, the guards got physical with him: one of them forcefully dragged him a few steps back while the other drew his sword and struck a defensive pose as he covered their tactical retreat. When Blueblood managed to look past the two guards, he saw what had caused the commotion: Tempest Shadow had raised herself to her full (impressive) height, and magic literally sparked out of the remains of her horn. She also wasn’t screaming like a lunatic, which was a bad sign - amateurs screamed about how they would end him; professionals were quiet and focused.
She took a step forward, and the guards took two steps back. “Let it be known,” she hissed, “that I have been pardoned by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”
“...and then they offered you a job as a meter maid?”
The guard by his side gave him an openly baffled look. Clearly, he had not been adequately briefed on Blueblood’s tendency to speak his mind.
“No.” Tempest Shadow grimaced, and her hostile attitude deflated, which at least made his guards relax a tiny bit. “They gave out pardons for virtually everything I did, but guess what happened when I was about to walk out the door!?”
“Heh.” He smiled - years of experience had taught him a thing or two about Celestia and her... antics. “Let me guess.” He put on his best serene smile and raised his voice by half an octave. “Ah, just one more thing...”
“YES!” She gave him a wide-eyed look and nodded enthusiastically. “EXACTLY THAT! And do you know what she hit me with?”
“Well, if I had to-”
“Parking tickets!” She waved forcefully at nothing in particular. “PARKING TICKETS!”
That would’ve been my guess, yes. He gave her an understanding nod - his aunt loved ironic punishments, so it hadn’t been too hard to guess what the “crime” had been if the punishment was working as a meter maid. “So you have to work as a meter maid for a day to pay for-”
“A day? A DAY?” She laughed harshly at that. “You have NO idea what it apparently costs to park a fleet of warships in Canterlot for several days.”
Blueblood burnt through a considerable amount of willpower to not grin - the thought of ticketing an invading fleet for parking violations was creative even by his aunt’s high standards. “Well,” he finally said when he trusted himself to not burst out laughing, “I will see if I can put in a good word for you later.” ...anything to make you calm down and give me some information.
“You would?” She blinked. “You could?” Then she gave the two guards a look. “Oh! You’re some sort of city official? Of course! Why else would you be running around with token guards?”
“...token guards?” He laughed politely at that. “Pardon me, but these are Royal Guards. The best of the best of the best.”
“Uhuh. Sure.” She didn’t sound impressed. Judging by the nervous looks of his guards, she apparently had reason not to be.
“And I’m not just any city official, but a Prince of Equestria.”
“...ohhh,” she whispered, finally sounding a bit wowed. Then she frowned mildly. “...was that your royal chariot that we just towed, then?”
“Prince Blueblood, to be pre-...” He finally parsed her question. “...you what?”
“That’s great! You have no idea how much work that saves me!” She smiled widely, then turned her head left and right as if looking for something. “Grubber?” she asked, then waited for a moment. “GRUBBER!” she suddenly roared, making Blueblood, his guards, and likely every living being in a half-mile radius jump.
After several seconds, a short... bipedal... hedgehog-like creature... with dark grey fur and some sort of light grey mohawk - or maybe those were quills - waddled out of a nearby candy shop. “I was just browsing!”
Blueblood wasn’t sure what was more ridiculous - the fact that somepony had had to make a meter maid shirt for this creature or that a dangerous pony like Tempest kept him as an assistant. In the end, Blueblood wisely chose not to comment on either fact.
“Found the owner of the royal chariot we towed,” Tempest curtly informed him.
“Which one?”
“What do you mean, which one?”
“We towed three today.”
Tempest blinked, then frowned. “...those other two weren’t royal chariots, were they?”
“To be honest, they all look the same to me,” Grubber muttered. “If it’s a cart and pulled by stupid-looking ponies in armor, it’s a royal chariot to me.”
“But the others were silver,” Tempest said even as Blueblood’s eyes went wider and wider. Then she groaned. “Anyway. We’ll discuss this later. That’s the owner of the chariot that had been parked in front of the restaurant. So give him the ticket.”
“...the what?” Blueblood asked, feeling less in control of the situation with each passing second. He watched helplessly as Grubber pulled a notepad from under his shirt and tore off a slip of paper. When Blueblood accepted it, he squinted at the words that had been scrawled on it:
WE TOWT UR RIDE. PAY 50 BITZ.
Fifty bits, he thought and nearly laughed. This maniac towed a royal chariot because-... He frowned. “Wait, why in Celestia’s name did you tow my chariot in the first place?”
“It was parked in a no-parking zone,” Tempest replied immediately.
“It was not!”
“The entire shopping district is a no-parking zone.”
“It is not!” He gave his guards a quick look. “Tell her!”
“She is corr-”
“SEE?” Blueblood snapped loudly as if that would undo the guard’s reply.
“Heh.” Tempest gave him a grin, and he found himself returning it for a moment before composing himself.
“Anyway. Ignoring any boring questions of who may have done anything wrong, I believe towing a royal chariot is a bit over the top, considering that we are talking about a measly fifty bits.”
She tilted her head slightly to the side as she contemplated this. “Well, I suppose we could return it since you’re here and all that...”
“There we go!” He gave his guards a smile and a nod, encouraging them to join him. “See, I knew you were pragmatic the moment I laid my eyes upon you!”
She actually seemed a little bit flustered, making him wonder just how few compliments she had received during the last couple of years if even that got to her. “Right. Right. So just pay the fine, and I’ll go and get your chariot real fast.”
His smile froze. “Beg your pardon?”
“...the fifty bits,” she clarified and blinked, trying and failing to understand why he had asked.
He hesitated. “...I’m a Prince of Equestria,” he finally reiterated. “Do I look like a pony who carries cash?”
“...do I look like a pony who cares?” she asked back, somehow looking bored and irritated at the same time.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered before turning to his guards. “Does one of you have fifty bits?”
“Ah,” one of the guards tried, trying desperately not to smile, “our armor does not come with pockets for spare change, Your Highness.” Next to him, his coworker actually let out a short giggle at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
“Right.” Blueblood cleared his throat. He had not mastered the Royal Canterlot Voice, but he was a royal, and it was time to pull rank. “You can consider your fee paid, peas-...citizen.”
She and Grubber exchanged looks. “And you can consider your vehicle delivered, Your Arrogance.” And with that, she turned to leave. “C’mon, Grubber, let’s check the south side of the shopping district next.”
“It’s ’Your Highness,’” he corrected her automatically before realizing that she was not, in fact, about to deliver his ride. “AND YOU WILL RETURN MY CHARIOT!” The distance between them was growing. “NOW!” Tempest continued to walk, showing no sign of having heard him. She is ignoring me! A Prince of Equestria gave her a direct order, and she ignored it! It was a novel concept to him. Not exactly pleasant, but... different. A challenge! He found himself smiling widely - this situation was quite obviously insane, but it sure beat debating with a heliocentrist! “GUARDS! SEIZE HER!”
The guards turned their heads fast enough that Blueblood actually briefly worried that they might suffer from whiplash. “Y-Your Highness?” one of them asked and groaned when Blueblood merely shooed them towards Tempest.
He watched as they jogged to catch up with her, then followed them at a more leisurely pace. What he saw next was less “seizing her” and more “timidly begging her to maybe please slow down a little bit, if it’s not too much of a hassle.” Tch. They literally outnumber her two to one, and they’re armed! I will have to exchange words with the good Captain. And maybe threaten to ask Shining Armor to come back for a quick, ah, motivational speech. He rolled his eyes. Assuming that I can convince him to stop snuggling with Cadance for five minutes.
“We require that you-”
“And the City of Canterlot requires your boss to pay his ticket. He does that, and I’ll release his fancy ride from the impound ship.”
“...impound ship?” Blueblood asked when he finally caught up with them.
“Impound ship,” Tempest repeated and pointed straight up with one hoof.
Blueblood looked up. “...was that there the entire time?” he asked nopony in particular and also pointed at the GIGANTIC AIRSHIP OF DOOM that was easily taking up what seemed like a solid third of Canterlot’s tactical airspace. He ignored the confused noises his guards made and gave the airship another look. My goodness, this thing looks EVIL. It’s as if Tartarus had set up a contest for the most evil-looking airship, and they had to kick that thing to the surface since it was too horrifying even by their local standards! He squinted when he realized that somepony had attached red and blue flashing lights as well as some reflective orange tape onto it to make it pass as an official Canterlot meter maid vehicle. I would’ve loved to witness that inspection. “My chariot is... in there?”
“And from the looks of it, it’s going to stay there,” Tempest informed him. “Grubber, we’re leaving.”
Blueblood stomped his hoof. “No.”
Tempest gave him a surprised look. Then her expression slowly shifted into a smile - he had challenged her, and she was interested to learn more. “...no?” she asked slowly, even as his guards got ready to draw their swords again.
He rose to his full height. Tempest was still a bit taller than him, but this was about the general principle of the gesture. “I, Prince Blueblood of Equestria, demand to be reunited with my chariot right now.”
There was a pause. A long pause. Tempest seemed to contemplate his words carefully, but in the end, she nodded. “Okay.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Well, that was rather anticlimactic. I had hoped for... I don’t know... something more exciting? A battle of wits? “Ah. Well. Um. Good.”
“Excellent.” The broad smile was back, and it dawned on Blueblood that apparently, there had been a battle of wits - he just hadn’t even realized it. “Grubber, give the signal. Three plus one.”
Grubber fished a small whistle from under his shirt and blew it several times before Blueblood had a chance to ask for a rematch. Then, both he and Tempest looked up.
A section of the hull at the bottom of the ship had opened up, and three creatures were rapidly descending by means of extremely long ropes. At first, Blueblood thought they were creatures like this Grubber fellow and that they had jumped out of an access hatch, but then he realized that his sense of scale was way off. Because the ship was huge. Meaning that the “hatch” was, in fact, a bomb bay. Which in turn meant that the three creatures were massive.
One of the guards pulled his sword, and the other one started to drag him away. “Move, move, move!”
Blueblood, of course, understood why they were panicking - these creatures looked intimidating, and troops rappelling from a military vessel was always a reason for concern - but something told him that this was not the time for Code Red or whatever this scenario called for usually. “At ease!” he shouted and gave Tempest a look when the guard stopped trying to force him to move. “Let me guess - your towing team?”
“They’re Storm Creatures,” Tempest explained airily even as the three creatures hit the ground with a low thud. Two of them were holding on to one rope each, but the third one was holding on to two for some reason.
Blueblood looked up at them. They were easily twice as tall as even Tempest herself, and while they were not armed, they did wear armor. Not that they’d really need weapons - they look strong enough to tear a pony in half! “...charmed?” he tried, making the Storm Creatures grunt in approval. One of them even waved at him. “What are you up to?” he finally asked Tempest.
She bowed theatrically. “Why, I am merely following the orders of His Royal Highness, Prince-...” She paused briefly, then quickly looked up from her mocking pose. “-...Blueblood, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Blueblood confirmed, trying to ignore that she was so unimpressed by his title that she even seemed to make fun of it. A part of him was immensely amused and maybe even a little bit intrigued - most ponies aside from his relatives either treated him with almost slavish reverence or tried to use him to get a hoof or four into his family tree. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure if he had ever run into a pony who didn’t seem to care about his wealth and title.
“And Prince Blueblood demands to be reunited with his chariot!” she declared loudly. Then she gave her team a meaningful nod. “Guys?”
They started to move.
“HEY!” Before the first guard could even react, one of the creatures had easily picked him up and held him under one arm. The other hand grabbed the floating sword to make sure that no funny business could ensue. The second guard was similarly secured before he could make a move.
“I WAS THINKING MORE ALONG THE LINES OF YOU RETURNING MY VEHICLE!” Blueblood shouted to make himself heard over the protests of his guards.
Tempest casually strolled past the Storm Creatures, taking only a moment to shush the captured guards with a quick warning tap of her hoof on their lips. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” she told him.
Blueblood found himself nodding slowly - not because he agreed with her, but because he finally understood how Canterlot had fallen within minutes during the invasion. Tempest was obviously a highly competent villain, and the way she moved among creatures twice her size (and likely four times her weight) suggested that she was entirely in tune with them. And while I might be falling for a stereotype here, they look as if they settle leadership questions by force, so if she is in command of them, she is more dangerous than even these brutes. He tilted his head. But she doesn’t wish us harm, does she? I mean, if my assumptions are correct, she could have dropkicked my guards into next week before either of them would have had time to react. “...you are suggesting to take us up there?”
“Actually, it’s about time for my union break,” she said, making her team snort with laughter, “so I will go up there. You decide whether to follow.” And with that, she took the spare rope the third Storm Creature had been holding, wrapped it around herself in a complex pattern, and, once Grubber had also clumsily grabbed it, pulled hard on it.
Before he could ask any more questions, the rope was pulled up at a frightening pace, sending her up into the ship within seconds.
“Your Highness,” one of his two (still captured) guards said, “you will NOT agree to this.”
“...did you just give me an order?” Blueblood asked, then looked up at the Storm Creature who no doubt had been assigned to pick him up. “Did he just give me an order?”
“Rawr,” the Storm Creature replied, sounding properly indignant.
“Exactly, thank you!”
“We are your BODYGUARDS!” the guard snapped. There was little doubt that he would either quit at the end of his shift or at least need a lengthy vacation. “Our LITERAL JOB is to keep you SAFE! So yes, as your BODYGUARD, I am telling you that this is DANGEROUS.”
He’s right. Blueblood gave him a long look as he weighed his options. There is no way that a sane pony would ever consider this. I mean, there aren’t even any safety harnesses. We know next to nothing about the capabilities of Storm Creatures. And we’re not even entirely sure that this isn’t some sort of long-shot plan to abduct a royal. But... “You make an excellent point,” he conceded.
“Thank you.”
“After all, there could be an ambush waiting for us up there!”
“Sure, sure, possible, yeah. Now, would you kindly retreat to-”
“So I reason that one of you should go on ahead and, ah, secure the area!” Blueblood gave him a smile that was half encouraging, half cruel. I’m going to hear from the Captain about this.
“-...what do you mean, secure the-...” The guard blinked. “NO! I’m not going to-”
The Storm Creature who was carrying him pulled on his rope.
“-go up there and secure the areAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa-...”
“My, that is quite fast,” Blueblood mused as he watched the poor guard getting pulled into the airship. Then he gave the crowd a look. “Don’t worry! He is a trained professional!” he shouted. “Well, no way of backing out now unless I want to explain why I ditched one of my guards up there.” He gave the Storm Creature a look. “Is there any way you can carry me in a more dignified way?”
The gigantic creature thought about that for a second. Then he held up his arms as if cradling a newborn.
Blueblood imagined himself being held like that, then grimaced. “Never mind, just hold me in some secure way. I suppose the tabloid press is going to have a field day with this, anyway, so let’s go big or go home, right?” There was a long pause, and Blueblood suddenly realized that he had no idea if Storm Creatures actually understood any Equestrian language beyond general tone and helpful gestures. Oh no. This is like the one time aunt Celestia convinced me that a capybara was the new ambassador of Justacaviidae, isn’t it? He cringed at the memory of him trying to make polite small-talk with a feral (if amiable) animal for thirty minutes. How do I-... He blinked when the Storm Creature started to gesture.
“Rawr.” The Storm Creature pointed at himself, followed by stomping his feet. Then he held a hand at the top of his head. For a second, Blueblood thought he was saluting, but then he realized that he was indicating his height. Then he waved his rope around, careful not to pull on it. And finally, he pointed up at the airship, followed by holding his hands to form a roof-like sign.
Self... walk... height... rope... airship... roof? Blueblood blinked, but then he burst out laughing. “You go big AND go home?”
“Rawr!” The Storm Creature laughed along with him before picking him up with practiced ease. It was a tight grip, but Blueblood knew better than to protest in this case.
“Hey!” Blueblood waved at his guard, who was looking significantly less amused than him. “Did you hear that? We’re going home!”
“Ah yes. I truly witnessed a meeting of the minds just now.” The guard gave him an exasperated look.
“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the-” He only realized that the Storm Creature had pulled at his rope when the ground literally fell away from under him. “-muAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”
“-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
It had been a long and eventful climb.
Well.
It had only lasted seconds, and the only events had been “ascending” and “screaming,” but there had been a lot of both. In fact, there had been so much screaming that Blueblood had actually had to pause his screams several times to actually breathe. And now, he wasn’t sure if he was feeling lightheaded because of the thinner air at whatever altitude he was at right now or because he had had too much or too little oxygen. Or... whatever ponies breathe. Is it oxygen? I feel it’s oxygen. Yeah, that sounds right. Should we settle on oxygen? Can we get a consensus on that? I’m feeling good about oxygen. Then again, my special talent is not medicine, so what do I know? I know where the word consensus comes from! It comes from Pony Latin, and I know where that is! No, wait, I don’t. Is my cutie mark broken? Am I broken? Am I dead? Is this real?
Tempest leaned into his field of vision. “Hey, how’re you holding up?”
“I DON’T KNOW WHERE PONY LATIN IS ANYMORE!?”
She blinked. “...right. Riiight. Pretty sure that’s a language from Equestria’s old days and not an actual place?” She gave him a closer look. “Also, pretty sure you’re going through the biggest adrenaline spike of your life right now, so I shouldn’t expect coherent thoughts.”
“But I know what consensus means! That means Pony Latin is a place, right? And if it’s a place, I should be able to locate it! Because my cutie mark is a compass rose, and my special talent is-...” His voice trailed off when Tempest gently placed a hoof against his lips.
She sighed. “Look at me.”
“B-but I can’t locate it! You don’t understand! My special talent-...” He stopped again when she leaned in so closely that her face filled his entire field of vision.
“Listen to my voice,” she whispered, and he gave her the tiniest of nods, focusing entirely on her opal eyes. “Breathe in.”
He obeyed without thinking.
“Breathe out,” she told him after long seconds, and he exhaled.
There was a pause, and Blueblood realized that he was holding his breath, waiting for her next instruction.
“Breathe in.”
He again followed her order, more easily this time. His thoughts seemed to slow down from their breakneck pace as he was starting to get lost in her eyes.
“Breathe out.”
He tried to place what he was feeling right now. Love? Yes? Maybe? Not quite? He was used to being close enough to a mare to be able to take in her scent, but not like this. Trust? Maybe? Kinda? Yes?
“Breathe in.”
He did as he had been told. It was getting easier to do what she said with each passing moment. And then it clicked: Pony Latin isn’t a place, you imbecile. Why was that so clear now, but had not been before?
“Breathe out.”
Of course. Breathing exercises. She’s helping me calm down. And if it took me this long to realize it, I obviously needed the help. He let out a long sigh. “Thank you.”
She backed away and grinned. “No worries. First time’s always the worst.”
“First time?” He scoffed. “I very much doubt there will be a repeat performance.”
“Aw.” She was looking mildly disappointed by that, and he immediately wished he hadn’t said it.
“I mean,” he tried, “we’ll see. Later. Once I’m sitting down.”
“You are.”
“I’m what?” he asked, then looked down, only to realize that he was already sitting. “Oh!” On the dirty floor of the now-closed bomb bay. “Oh! Ew!” He quickly tried to get up again, only to hit the floor again when his legs gave out. Right. Adrenaline crash. Let’s give it another minute. “Can’t believe I’m doing something so ungraceful. Not even a pillow in sight.”
She chuckled at that. “I’m sorry; I’ll make sure to drag you to the VIP suite next time.”
“You have one?” Now we’re talking!
“Of course!” She hesitated. “Well... sort of. Not really.” A frown. “Used to have one, but it’s the Captain’s quarters now.”
“And the Captain is you, I presume?” He smiled when she gave him a proud nod. “So... you were suggesting that next time, you would immediately drag me to your private quarters?” His smile widened when she blushed visibly.
“I DIDN’T-...” She frantically looked around. Some of the Storm Creatures failed to hide their rather suggestive gestures in time. “I DID NOT!” she snapped at them. “I can’t believe you made me say that,” she hissed at Blueblood, but he had a hunch that she was not really as mad as she wanted to appear.
“And I can’t believe he actually went in for the kill this swiftly.”
Blueblood narrowed his eyes and clumsily turned around to face the guard who had spoken. He was pretty sure that it had been the one he had sent up here first. Which admittedly had been sort of a mean thing to do, but he still felt that this comment deserved a quick remark. “You-...” His voice trailed off when he realized several things. First of all, the now-closed bomb bay was large enough that it could probably deploy a smaller airship, which was a concept that intrigued him. Then there was the fact that the bomb bay was hardly empty. Aside from an alarming number of Storm Creatures, there was also a long line of cages. Some of them were empty; others weren’t. He looked at the closest non-empty cage. One of the two pegasus ponies who had pulled his chariot waved at him from behind its bars. “...let me guess, you also don’t have fifty bits?” The pegasus shook his head. “Shame.”
“Surely you can send somepony to fetch the money if you really want to get out of here so urgently,” Tempest groaned, and there was something about her demeanor that made him unsure if she was exasperated by his lack of money or his focus on getting his ride back so soon.
She wants me to stay? he asked himself without turning around to face her. The question is... would I like to stay? He reviewed what had happened and how he had felt so far. It had been a wild couple of minutes, and Tempest was not his usual “type” of mare, but... he... liked her? Maybe not love, maybe not yet love, but there was something about her he enjoyed immensely. Of course, with her, everything seems to be banter and aggression, even if it’s all just for show. So I need to act accordingly if I want to connect to her... “Yes, I suppose I could,” he replied airily and turned around. “But on second thought, I really shouldn’t.”
Tempest blinked at that and tilted her head. “Well, you haven’t exactly-”
“After all, Canterlot does not simply pay off foalnappers.”
She froze in place, mouth hanging open. Nopony dared to speak, and even the Storm Creatures seemed unsure how to react. “F-foalnappers?” she finally stammered and gave her crew a look over her shoulder as if to make sure that she had heard him correctly. “FOALNAPPERS?” she snapped at him once she was sure she had.
“A pony who abducts another pony and holds them as a prisoner,” he explained patiently, missing her point on purpose, “typically to obtain a ransom.”
“I KNOW WHAT THE-...” She closed her eyes and took a quick, deep breath. “I can’t believe you’re casting me as the bad-...” A frown. “I LITERALLY WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT, YOU DOLT!”
“Not the worst excuse,” he commented drily. “Not the best one, either.”
The bad news was that she was looking mad. As in, really mad. The good news was that she wasn’t barking out orders to open the bomb bay doors and throw him out. Yet.
He cleared his throat as if the mare in front of him wasn’t trembling with rage. “As one of Canterlot’s top diplomats, I formally acknowledge your demand of fifty bits. The royal family would, however, like to extend a counterproposal.”
“You’re-...” Tempest frowned deeply. “My demand of-...” She quickly shook her head. “...what do you suggest?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked. How about we start with your complete and total surrender?”
The bomb bay went utterly silent as Tempest gave him a glare that would have made any veteran guard cry.
“Heh,” Grubber suddenly said, “isn’t that exactly what you said back when-...” His voice trailed off when he saw the sparks flying out of Tempest’s broken horn. He gave Blueblood a look. “Oh wow, you are super dead.”
But then, a second before Blueblood would have lost faith and called for his guards, Tempest’s expression of anger shifted into a cruel grin. “I like you!” she proclaimed. “I will toss you overboard last!”
His sigh of relief was drowned out by the cheers and laughter of the assembled Storm Creatures. When things had quieted down, he gave her his best smile. “Why don’t we discuss this over lunch?”
Her grin turned into a sly, knowing smile. “Sure, why not? You earned that meal.” A slight pause. “Even if it might be your last.”
“Well, then it better be a good one,” he replied evenly.
“Heh.” And with that, she turned towards the closest door and led him out of the bomb bay.
“Just a quick question,” he said while they were walking through a tall steel corridor. “What are your thoughts on heliocentrism?”
She gave him a puzzled look over her shoulder. “Isn’t that the belief that our planet orbits around the sun?” When he gave her a nod, she huffed. “Short answer: nonsense.”
“Ah, very good. Even if this date ends with me being tossed out of your airship, it will have been better than my last one.” Then he considered her phrasing. “...what’s the long answer?”
“The long answer will cost you fifty bits.”
She flashed him a grin, and for the second time today, he found himself returning it.
So far, it wasn’t the worst first date.
Author's Note
Notes, inspiration, credits:
- Sparing you the lookup: Le Requin de Verre is French for "Glass Shark" or "Shark of Glass". It's also the same restaurant mentioned in "Betraying Tempest". Because I ~~suck at coming up with names~~ value consistency in my worldbuilding. Speaking of names coming from name generator sites, Basiljet says hi.
- Golf ball diver is apparently a very real, if slightly obscure, job!
- Also sparing you the lookup: Caviidae is a taxonomic family which includes the capybara. Also, that side joke was mildly inspired by SilFoe's The Royal Sketchbook.
- Pony Latin is apparently canon? While I haven't watched the episode, it's apparently mentioned in "A Flurry of Emotions".
- I love Blueblood accidentally throwing Tempest's iconic lines back at her. I also love failed spot checks.
