Royal Blood is Still Red

by Abryssle

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Comedy
Length: 5226

Prince Ravage, an alicorn prince harboring a bitterness born during a successful career as Captain of the Guard many years ago, decides to take over Equestria in response to the many mistakes of its present rulers.

Ravage, the 328-year-old son of Celestia, hates himself with a passion, and he can't understand why anypony wouldn't do the same. He's attractive, fit, near immortal, gifted with the powers of flight and magic together, and, more importantly than any of that; he's a selfish, hypocritical jerk. And one of the most efficient killers to ever blight the fields of battle. And yet, he still finds himself often exposed to ponies who consider him a genius, or a hero, or even charming… or at least, who consider him worth buttering up with those labels.

Hating this, Ravage (Fortune be with you if you call him Prince) retreated from society and hid on the edge of a small town in the north, specifically on the edge closest to the town pub, to be far removed from prominence, undeserved praise, and his fellow nobles. But his self-isolation is destroyed when he's called to meet a new Princess—a young mare he's never heard of named, "Twilight Sparkle."

This visit to Canterlot, and learning about all the events that have transpired since he took absence from power, makes him just annoyed enough with the present rulers of Equestria that he starts to think even a bitter jerk like him could rule better.

Then he decides he should do just that.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-21 23:42:52 UTC

Come to the Meet the Princess

Prince Ravage felt tired as he awoke. He always felt tired, really, but in the morning, the sharp mental pains of his fatigue had yet to recede to dull aches, and so he felt more miserable for being tired all the same. His senses took stock of his location, and he could tell immediately by the warmth of a pony by his side that he'd gotten drunk again the past night. He was likely hungover as well, which explained the pounding headache he had much better than fatigue alone. He must have drunk a lot, if his magic couldn't remove it from his system completely overnight. He opened his tired eyes, blinking several times to try and clear the odd haziness masking his vision, and looked down over to the other pony.

A stallion, he noted. I was in that mood last night, then.

The stallion had a sandy coloration, with a short, well-styled mane of dull scarlet. His body was thin, lacking much in way of either musculature or fat, and even with only the awkward glance his view afforded him, Ravage could see that the other pony's coat was soft and clean, with a sort of shiny quality that suggested it was well-treated. All marks of a decent living and an intellectual or at minimum easy life. Ravage hated him immediately, hated how clean he was, and, more than that, how easily he must have given in to the stupid, drunken demands Ravage himself had likely made last night for probably no other reason than the fact Ravage was royalty and good looking.

With a sharp prod to the stallion's side, Ravage started speaking. "Get up. I want you gone." The stallion stirred only slightly, mumbling something under his breath. Ravage jabbed him again, even sharper. The stallion winced. "Get up."

"I'm up! I'm up! Jeese," the stallion muttered. He had a fairly high, effeminate voice, Ravage noted. Vaguely pleasant to his ear. Not that that was significant. The prince bemoaned once again that he was tired and hungover, and consequentially possessed of a wandering mind. "What's the hurry, prince?"

Prince, Ravage's thoughts growled. Not Ravage. 'Prince.'

"I want you out of my sight," Ravage snarled, his voice taking the same tone his thoughts had taken for the moment. "Leave, immediately."

Ravage's mind filled with buzzing as the stallion started to whine about that. In all probability, he was saying something about how he deserved more, or that Ravage's behavior was rude, or some other such trivial thing that Ravage really didn't care about. If complaints and petty insults made by shallow, arrogant, well-off assholes were something that could have gotten to him, they would have done so in the first 100 years of his life.

Without so much as a sideways glance, Ravage strode past the stallion, who was still talking, voice getting higher in pitch as he grew frustrated and more flustered still. Perhaps he'd realized he was being ignored. Ravage strode out of the bedroom's door, glad it was at least his own house and that he knew the way. He'd found himself in more foreign places when he opened his eyes from a rest. Light, coming in from the tall, slender windows of his abode, burned his eyes, but Ravage resisted the impulse to let his eyelids shut. This was merely a punishment for his own stupidity. He still heard the buzzing as he traveled to his restroom and inspected his appearance in the mirror; The stallion was following him, the brat. Ravage continued ignoring the other pony, instead looking at his reflection. His coat still looked pristine, a dark, rich purple color. His mane, white and kept long with a smooth, wavy quality to it, was also fine, and had even retained most of it's simple elegance, despite the activities of last night. A single black stripe hung down with it along its center. His horn had a rather strange look to it, roughened and pocked by many tiny indents, as though the outer layers of bone had been eaten away. His eyes were as they always looked to him, piercing, bitter ice-blue irises glaring out of tired eyes.

Ravage held his eyes on his own visage awhile, until the irritating buzzing of the sandy colored stallion became intolerable, upon which Ravage turned sharply, located the other pony's mouth, and kissed the young stallion. It silenced him effectively, and it also seemed to conveniently befuddle the poor lad.

"Leave, for now," Ravage said, his tone now carrying its menace and loathing with the softness of velvet. "If I desire you again, I'll find you." The stallion glanced away, but with a telekinetic force, Ravage forced their gazes to meet. "Leave, or I will contact the royal guard." A moment later, the tall alicorn added, voice again having swung from hard to gentle, "Or perhaps keep your punishments my own affair..."

The stallion muttered several apologies and backed away. He had left the building within a minute's time.

"Not in a sociable mood, Ravage?" Ravage turned towards the source of the familiar voice. It had come from the air, seemingly.

"Is that mocking, Seravatio? You know I have no tolerance for sycophantic fools."

"And you think every pony you bed is such a creature, I suppose?" Ravage felt fatigue roll over him again as his eyes found his aide. He had a strong tolerance for speaking with Seravatio, a rare thing to have toward a pony when it came to his relationships. The pale pearlescent stallion had approached from one of the house's side wings, as he'd no doubt been politely waiting to do for some time. Ever polite, respectful to a tee, and always willing to lend an ear—such were the royal servants. Ravage profoundly hated them, as a general rule. The universal principles that bound them together as a group, blind devotion to their master being a prominent one, pissed him off. Of course, they were paid to be devoted, and their kindness and respect toward their masters could easily be considered part of their services, but Ravage's judgement could care less. Seravatio had been the first of such servants to last longer than a month with Ravage. He was also the first who hadn't been trained for the purpose. He came for the job after the servant before him had just been ejected, in perhaps as informal a manner as one could come for a job. He had knocked on Ravage's door, with a dirty coat and a crudely styled mane, and then said casually that he could cook, that he liked housework, and that he wanted the job. Ravage had hired him. Ravage had kept him. Under the cool sense of respect and concern he'd rapidly grown adapt at keeping up, Servatio had maintained a simple and honest core. The servant would even occasionally insult or scold him, which Ravage liked. And he had been willing to start addressing him as Ravage without a word of complaint or confusion. Ravage liked that too.

"Anypony who would get into bed with me drunk couldn't be anything other," Ravage replied with a characteristic boredom, strolling out towards the kitchen. Seravatio followed.

"I prepared some hot chocolate for ya. Also, an urgent letter arrived while you were passed out, which I would advise you read sooner rather than later." Ravage could smell the beverage now that he knew it was there, and the scent aroused in him a sense of hunger.

"Who sent the letter?"

"Princess Celestia." Ravage paused in mid-stride. His head turned slowly to look back to his faithful servant.

"An urgent letter from mother?"

"Yes, indeed," Seravatio confirmed. "The message is marked with the royal seal." Ravage closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I'm so tired, and there's no rest in sight... Seravatio cut him out of the thought, and from the rather similar thoughts that would have inevitably followed, after only a moment. "Would you like to read it now?"

"A piece of mail can wait until I've had my breakfast," Ravage said, finishing his entrance into the kitchen. Seravatio nodded, with a subtle grin playing about his face. A cupboard moved open as the alicorn willed it, and a mug flew out. The cupboard closed itself. In a series of deft magical manipulations, Ravage grabbed the small kettle of drink, moved it to hover over a place in the table as his mug slid underneath it, and poured himself a cup of the stuff.

Hot chocolate had been his specific drink of choice for a while, by then. How long exactly wasn't something his memory had deemed significant, but he knew it was a good while, even by the standards of his long lifespan. Ravage sipped the drink appreciatively. The fact that he'd been asleep while it had been made had given it time to fall to a comfortable degree of heat, and he could take large drinks without scorching his mouth.

"How long has it been since the last time you saw the Princess?" Seravatio asked casually, as he levitated out a mug for himself. He'd learned years ago that unless under direct orders, he could do whatever he liked, whenever he liked.

"My mother and I haven't interacted for..." His memory tried to bring up the value from the mental fog around the fact, but it failed to give him a precise number. His headache, still driving bolts of agony into his head, wasn't helping. "...For a rather long time," Ravage said after a moment of thought, during which his face had set into a grim mask. Seravatio nodded slowly in appreciation of the fact. Ravage tried to calm the subtle rage seeping into the edges of his mind at the thought of his mother—he felt it resist, and, indeed, start creeping deeper into his thoughts. He gave a quiet grunt of frustration and sipped again at his beverage, focusing his gaze downward onto one spot on the wooden table before him. The grains of the wood had collided and mixed to form a dark knot, not highly visible against the already dark color of the table, but noticeable nonetheless. His mind was detached from the focus—it was more just something to give his body to do.

Princess Celestia, all-important master of the sun, benevolent ruler, strong protector. The image of a noble paragon of light and justice. I fail to comprehend how the masses can be so blatantly inaccurate in their perception.

"Do you have any specific preference as to breakfast today?" Seravatio asked casually.

"I had assumed that this was breakfast," Ravage said seriously as he took another small sip. He always took small sips. It was rare for him to finish a cup in less than an hour.

"Ah," his servant responded. And for a short time, there was no sound but that of the occasional sip and the breathes of two ponies.

"I wanna know what the letter says," Seravatio said suddenly. Ravage lifted his eyes from the spot on the table.

"What?" Ravage said icily.

"I want to read the urgent message. I have to say, the wait for you to get up was rather difficult already, but I know how much you value sleep." As the servant spoke, his magic lifted a scroll from a small pouch mounted on the side of his body. Ravage observed silently. It wasn't the disdain of his servant that bit into him. That sense of casual comfort was largely the reason could tolerate Seravatio as a servant. But the idea of hearing the demands of his mother any sooner than expected was frustrating. The scroll's edge was just starting to peel up and away from the roll, but had stopped just short of breaking the royal wax seal placed prominently on the outside. "You don't have to hear it yet if you don't want to, but can I see what it says?" Seravatio asked, calmly, waiting for a response. Ravage closed his eyes.

...So damn tired...

"Read it. Do so aloud." Seravatio smiled, and with a slight force, opened the scroll and flattened it magically out before him. He started to read.

"Dear Ravage, I know that you do not appreciate contact from the royal circle, myself included. As such, I hesitated to send this message to you, and I would admit, found even the task of writing it rather difficult, knowing that it would greatly discomfort you." Ravage gave a snort of ill-tempered amusement at that. "I must ask you to meet my personal student, Twilight Sparkle, who has undergone the ascension from unicorn to alicorn, and been granted the title of princess. As she is entering the nobility, I believe she should be aware of and get to know the other members of her new hierarchical rank, even those who would rather remain in isolation. Many other members of the royal family have already met her, and delaying your meeting any longer seems pointless. I would appreciate it if you would depart immediately to Canterlot to-"

Ravage's eyes opened, and his horn lit up for but a moment. Seravatio flinched backwards as the scroll seemingly released a small burst of magical energy, a deep, dark blue that was almost black. In less than a second, the burst had vanished, and with it, the scroll entirely. Nothing remained of the message—no ash, no corner of a page, no casing, nothing. Ravage gave only heavy breath, and then a long exhalation, and then closed his eyes again. Seravatio was silent. Ravage's breath became afterward what could have been called unnaturally calm and still.

"How irritating," Ravage muttered fiercely, more to himself than his servant. He seemed to be in his own, distant world, face intense yet somehow calm and undisturbed. "She's going to bring me out of isolation just to meet a pony I don't know."

Seravatio held his silence for several moments before speaking, trying to be jovial about the message. "Sorry you heard that so early in the morning, Prince-"

"Don't call me Prince!" Ravage said, leaping up partially onto the table, wings flared and voice edged with anger. Seravatio fell silent again, and waited patiently as Ravage reined back his fury to normal levels. "And pack my most critical possessions," Ravage added, much more quietly. "Be quick about it. We have a meeting in Canterlot to get to, and I will be done with it as soon as possible."

"Aye aye, Ravage," Seravatio said, barely managing to keep much fear from showing. He didn't even question why Ravage was complying to the letter. The alicorn's reasoning regarding what was to be dismissed and what was an absolute duty had always been hard to comprehend. Ravage sat down slowly, and took another drink from his mug. The hot chocolate still tasted good, he knew, but for some reason all that goodness seemed unable to reach his tongue, and the drink was bitter in his mouth. Seravatio left to go gather what few possessions Ravage had that could be called "critical," while Ravage sat alone and motionless at the table for a while longer. He found images flashing through his mind that had been long dormant, images of beaks and talons, outstretched before vanishing in flashes of dark blue, and images of feathered bodies falling from the sky.

...my personal student, Twilight Sparkle, who has undergone the ascension from unicorn to alicorn, and been granted the title of princess...

"How irritating," Ravage muttered again as he got up and walked to the kitchen sink. He poured the rest of his drink into the drain.

He was there again. Canterlot, the great pony capital. Where snobs, the wealthy, and royalty all come together to make a lovely stagnant stew of arrogance and stupidity. "How pleasant to be home," he muttered under his breath.

Seravatio hopped off the golden chariot that had taken them to the city, carrying several bags of stuff in his magic. He turned around and gave a quick nod and a few pleasantries to the pair of pegasus royal guards that had carried them there. Ravage could have flown alone, it was true, but he loathed flying, and he loathed even more not having a servant and a friend with him, if not both in one. So chariot it had been. The pair of guards started a slow trot, flapping their wings at increasing speed, until the ornate chariot had taken off again and was flying back to the north. Seravatio approached from behind.

"I've never been to Canterlot before," the white stallion said as he drew to his master's side.

"It's just another city," Ravage said dryly. His eyes surveyed the area. He caught several ponies looking his way, expressions showing wonderment at the tall, dark alicorn suddenly arrived into their midst. Ignoring them with a certain determination, Ravage spoke softly. "Let's get to the castle. She'll want to speak to me as soon as possible... And I have to establish in my mind the degree of competency the court has managed to keep over the time passed since my last visit." Seravatio nodded, though Ravage did not see it, his attention completely on the castle looming over the other structures of Canterlot.

"Let's," the servant said, and so the pair started through Canterlot.

The whispers and gossiping started shortly after they started walking. Seravatio knew, though Ravage was hiding it rather well, how enraged the prince was. Ravage had no tolerance for being seen as especially important in any way, an unfortunate trait for an alicorn, and especially an alicorn like Ravage. Ravage was even more notable than some of the other alicorns of the royal family, at least physically; few other alicorns aside from Celestia and her returned sister were of unusual size, or of such dark, obtrusive coloration. Ravage, on the other hoof, was gifted (though he would term it cursed) with height; He was almost as tall as his mother. It was no wonder that other ponies were whispering.

"What are you thinking about?" Ravage asked, out of the blue. Seravatio pondered a moment. It was only a brief one. Being absolutely honest with Ravage was the best course.

"How likely it is you're repressing the impulse to murder your onlookers." Ravage gave a small, wicked grin at that.

"You do truly know me, you know that, Seravatio? Mood swings and loathings and all."

"Long enough," Seravatio replied cheerfully. His fear, and the discomfort between them, that Ravage's earlier outburst created had faded away completely. Servatio's dark green eyes glanced over to the side as he saw two figures approaching in his peripheral. He took them in for a half second. "Oh, my. Some of them are approaching." Ravage glanced back to his right, a move which put both Seravatio and the approaching pair into his line of sight. His expression did not change, but Seravatio could feel a preparatory tension building up inside the alicorn.

"Excuse me, but... Are you a member of the royal family?" One of the approaching two, a stallion with a golden coat and dark green mane spoke. The other, a smaller mare with a camera slung loosely over her neck and a red saddlebag that well-matched her light brown coat, was smiling kindly at the prince. Ravage was silent for a moment, which the stallion must have taken as a sign to continue, for he did just that. "You see, my name is Chestnut, and I work for a local newspape-"

"I am," Ravage said suddenly, with the sharpness of a knife. Chestnut's words died away. The air was still for a moment.

"You are?" Chestnut said, voice laced with surprise from having been so rudely cut off.

"I would have thought that my horn and wings made that apparent," the alicorn said disdainfully, speaking slowly, as though to a child. Ravage stared a moment, then twisted away sharply and started waking. Seravatio gave a curt nod to the pony, and a look of mixed apology and amusement, and then followed his master. Chestnut stared, unsure of how to react. Then he turned to the pony next to him, and said in a hushed, serious tone of voice, "Get your camera set and start snapping photos."

The two made steady progress down the roads, drawing eyes the whole way. Several other times, ponies approached Ravage, only to be sent away with sharp comments of contempt or ignored. In consequence, gossip about the new alicorn presence spread even faster, for now it was a rude new alicorn the ponies of Canterlot had to talk about. Ravage knew this. He continued dismissing anypony who approached him, with equal scorn for all. Several of the rich and famous elite of Canterlot were among the dismissed. Ravage had recognized none of them, nor cared to become acquainted. Seravatio was grinning by the time they approached the castle.

"Why are you grinning?" Ravage asked him.

"Because I love watching you work," he'd answered. Ravage stared tiredly at him for a second, and then given him a small nod. They went into the castle. The guards at the door gave no signs of recognition, but they let him pass between them and through the massive doorway that served as the entrance to the royal castle without comment. Ravage and Seravatio walked silently down the entry hallway. Several servants, moving through the side passages that lined the main hallways, paused in their routes to look at Ravage, though they held their silence, or spoke only to each other. The two went basically unopposed in their motion as they traveled through the massive building. Seravatio looked around himself and appreciated the architecture. Ravage kept his eyes straight ahead, ignorant to anything but the path before him.

Where would she be...

"Any idea where we're going?"

"No," Ravage answered.

"I see."

The two kept walking through the passages in silence.

After a time, Ravage irritably snapped at a passing servant to inform the Princess that her son was here. The young mare had looked startled, and then promptly scurried away with almost a sort of terror driving her speed.

"You'd think that I'd receive a better welcome," Ravage said bitterly as they waited--Ravage wasn't going to move any further for "mother's convenience"--"Considering that we had to fly for several hours just to get here through the cold."

"You didn't reply to her letter. Perhaps she thought you might refuse, or that you might not come immediately." Ravage was silent. "...Or, perhaps, the Princess is merely trying to avoid treating you like you matter. Since you do so hate that," Seravatio continued helpfully. Ravage snorted.

"A prince would receive a public reception. She didn't bother to greet me at the door after requesting I fly straight here through miles of ice and cold." He drew a breath and gave a tired sigh. "Perhaps she believes I hate the idea of pony contact."

"Hmm," Seravatio offered. "I don't blame her." Ravage looked at him. Seravatio glanced over after a moment and shrugged. Ravage looked away again.

"You keep up with events moderately better than me; who is this mare that's been lifted into royalty and power?" Ravage asked after a moment.

"Twilight Sparkle?" Seravatio asked.

"Yes."

"She's Celestia's pupil, one of the elements of harmony, and at this point the several-time savior of Equestria," Seravatio answered.

"Has she handled any diplomatic situations of any sort?" Ravage asked, completely unphased by these previously unknown qualities and accomplishments.

"Not to my knowledge."

"Well, then. Giving her legal power doesn't seem particularly well thought out," Ravage said.

"No, no it doesn't," Seravatio said after a brief moment of thought. Neither pony spoke for a little while. Ravage tapped a hoof on the ground, the metal of the horseshoes giving off harsh, clear sounds as they hit against the metal. Seravatio made no comment. Ravage closed his eyes in thought. He barely moved for the next ten minutes, until Seravatio prodded his body. "Celestia," he said quietly to Ravage, who gave a small nod and then looked down the hall. There she was. Celestia, the princess of Equestria.

Mother, Ravage thought.

"Ravage," Celestia said pleasantly. "I'm glad you came."

"I'm not," Ravage said bitterly. Celestia ignored him, smiling still.

"It has been some time. I apologize for not coming to greet you, but I was occupied making some of the preparations for a party this evening, and I didn't think you'd like other ponies greeting you at the door," Celestia said.

"I see," Ravage said, clearly illustrating through his tone that the explanation was far from satisfactory in his eyes.

"I'm glad," she said. She looked to Seravatio. "And who are you?"

Seravatio gave an exaggerated bow. "Seravatio, Ravage's faithful aid and servant, if it so pleases you." Celestia gave a small chuckle at the sight. Ravage gave a dismissive snort.

"So, where is this new alicorn?" Ravage asked, after a natural pause.

"I'll show you, if you follow me. She's still a bit shaken up by my request she come to Canterlot to meet some of the other royals. She's being fitted for a dress, currently," Celestia said. Ravage took this information in in silence, and followed Celestia as she turned around and started back the way she had come from. Seravatio followed him. They walked through a number of halls, all in utter silence. The long gap in time between their last interaction and now hadn't given them much to talk about, evidently. The trio heard Twilight before they reached the room she was in. She was speaking anxiously—and thus, loudly—with a white unicorn, as tape measures flew about her.

"Why do we need new measurements, Rarity?" Twilight asked, almost in a whine. Rarity gave a dismissive coo, as though she believed Twilight's apparent concern naive.

"Because, Twilight, you've grown a few inches," Rarity said. "All of your measurements have changed subtly." Twilight didn't respond. "Twilight?" Rarity asked. Receiving no response, she followed.her friend's gaze.

"This is her?" Ravage said from the doorway, contempt apparent. Celestia nodded. Twilight's eyes looked over the newcomer, and she grew increasingly excited as she noted the defining physical traits. The dark coat, the wings alongside the eaten-away horn, the unusual height... Twilight's anxiety slipped under a layer of geeky excitement, and her mouth broke into an excited smile.

"Prince Ravage?" she said, with a sort of disbelief. Ravage's jaw clenched.

"Yes?" Ravage answered, leaking barely-concealed venom through his teeth.

"Creator of the true destruction spell?" Twilight said with growing excitement. "One of the few ponies to ever master conscious non-horn bodily magic release?" Ravage stared at her a moment, eyes full of a sort of tired hatred. The dark alicorn turned to Celestia, ignoring Twilight completely.

"You think this foal is suited to participate in the ruling of a nation?" he said with subdued anger.

"With a bit of time and training, yes. She has my absolute faith," Celestia answered.

"Well, that sells me. Faith." Ravage shot a cold look in Twilight's direction. "Knowing spells and having the ability to solve a few problems by force are hardly qualities that qualify one for leading a nation. You're going to give this easily-impressed kid a position in royalty?"

"Um-" Twilight said quietly, both excitement and confidence destroyed completely. Celestia looked over to her with an apologetic expression. Nopony spoke for a moment.

"Who is this, if I may ask?" Rarity asked, sounding somewhat insulted by the lack of concern for her or her knowledge of who was who currently present in the room.

"This is my son, Prince Ravage," Celestia said.

"...Former captain of the equestrian guard during the griffin wars..." Twilight said, almost uncertainly. Ravage glanced at her again, a bit less intensely, and then looked to Rarity.

"And who are you?" he said.

"A friend of the mare you seem to be in the process of insulting," Rarity said defensively.

"In name, not social relations," Ravage said bluntly, ignoring the implications of the last sentence.

"Rarity," the white unicorn said.

"Hmm." Ravage stared at her for a moment, intrigued, and then resumed looking bitter and apathetic. "Well, I've sated my curiosity. Miss Sparkle, enjoy your new title. I won't bother to ruin it for you personally." He turned to Seravatio. "Do as you will, but secure a place to stay by nightfall. I intend to stay a while and get..." he paused a moment. "...reacquainted, with some aspects of Canterlot."

"You may stay in the castle," Celestia said, cutting off the response Seravatio was about to launch into. Both stallions looked to her. She gave a small tilt of the head. "You are my son. You'll have chambers made available."

"...Fine," Ravage said after a moment of internal consideration. He turned to his servant. "See about assisting the castle staff in that process, then."

"I'll see to it," Seravatio said, smiling softly. Ravage looked around the room one final time, and then left the room. Celestia let him pass, smiling sadly as he went. Again, nopony spoke for a moment.

"Apologies for his behavior. He does dreadfully hate admiration," Seravatio said after a moment. He looked over to Celestia. "You did warn her, correct, Princess?"

"No," Celestia said.

"Hmm, well, that would explain things," he commented simply. He turned toward Rarity and Twilight. "Neither of you are too shaken, I hope?"

"No," Rarity answered. Twilight shook her head. Rarity pondered a moment, then turned sharply to Celestia. "You said he was your son?"

"Yes, I did," Celestia said. Rarity stared at the goddess a moment.

"I wasn't aware you had a son," she said, in a sort of dull surprise.

"He went to live a life of seclusion after his participation in the griffin wars," Celestia said. She gave a sigh. "And he's stubbornly maintained that position, to a fair degree. So he's not particularly known by the public. And neither he or I want him to be."

"Does he have some kind of... well, talent? Like you with the sun, or Cadence with love, or is he more like... say, Blueblood?" Rarity asked, her tone suggesting a less-than-pleased reaction to meeting the prince.

"Destruction," Twilight said, recovering somewhat now that the disparaging prince had left the room. "Ravage is a master in destruction magics."

"Destruction," Rarity repeated.

"That he is," Seravatio said. "If you ever get the chance to see him in action, I assure you, it is something worth seeing." He paused a moment, and then added quietly, "....From a distance." The ponies in the room were silent. Seravatio flashed them all a grin and gave a small bow. "Well, I'm going to go handle Ravage and I's accommodations. Don't judge him too harshly, if you could, ladies." As he left, he bowed to the princess. "A pleasure to meet his mother, and the princess, and a convenience to be able to do both at once." Celestia smiled back at him, and he left, grinning.

Rarity gave a moment of rest for her friend to recover from the strange and sudden interruption in having her measurements taken before moving the tape measures once again from where they'd been left awkwardly hanging in the air around her friend and saying softly, "Now, Darling, if you could hold very still a moment..."