Chapter Seven: Loss Of Balance
~BlackRoseRaven
Blueblood refused to come down and drink that night: instead, he curled up in his room, trembling beneath his blankets, protective runes etched all over the walls and ceiling. He'd told Sleipnir they wouldn't work, a thousand times over, but the earth pony had insisted all the same on putting them up... but no, both his aunts had tried that too, among other things. None of it was going to help. Not a single bit of it.
He whimpered a little, clenching his eyes shut: oh, he was going to find out the name of that solider and have him executed for this! Why, Auntie Celestia had already promised to talk to her Generals first thing in the morning about what had happened. But as much as he'd pleaded and begged... apparently she was far too busy in Canterlot to come out for five minutes to give him goodnighties when he needed it most...
The stallion trembled, fighting back tears. Sleipnir had said he would stay with him but... that was the last thing Blueblood needed, that... that big failure crammed in the bed with him! As if it wasn't bad enough he had failed to take care of him when he'd promised – he'd promised! – but now he wanted to humiliate him? Imagine the rumors! Prince Blueblood the colt cuddler; Prince Blueblood and his 'daddy;' Prince Blueblood, Equestria's next queen!
Blueblood swore and clenched his eyes shut, shivering violently as he hugged himself. This was all Sleipnir's fault... if he hadn't broken the damned door, if he hadn't gotten everyone drunk, if he hadn't taken him on this stupid quest in the first place, everything would be okay right now! And he wouldn't be here, trying his damnedest to stay awake all night, terrified every moment that-
“Blueblood, darling... are you awake?”
Blueblood's eyes widened, and then he flung off the blanket to stare with surprise at Princess Celestia, his aunt smiling faintly as she slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. He trembled violently, then leapt out of bed and almost flung himself into her, his aunt catching him tightly and safely in her embrace as she said softly: “I decided that work could wait. You're much more important to me.”
“A-A-Auntie...” Blueblood whimpered, burying his face against the side of her neck, but Celestia only smiled softly, holding Blueblood tightly against her breast.
He felt like crying. He felt so happy, happier than he'd been in years: Auntie Celestia was here, here for him, and it was all going to be okay now. He clung to her tightly, keeping his eyes tightly shut even as one of her hooves gently stroked along his face, even as he felt a soft kiss to his forehead as she murmured: “It's all going to be okay.”
He pressed against her thin body, trembling a bit, almost afraid he was going to break her with how hard he was squeezing her, so hard that he could feel her bones pressing into him. But she squeezed him back with such great strength in her own forelegs... it was... it was like being in a vise, almost, caught between narrow but unbreakable steel bars...
Blueblood trembled as he tried to bury his face in the familiarity of her mane... but it felt... wet, and cold. Not at all like the flowing ephemera he was used to. His eyes slid open... and then widened slowly as he found himself staring not into a rainbow sea, but filthy blackness...
His hooves pushed into her, and they felt bare, yellowed bones as he rose his head... and stared with horror up at this monstrosity's face. It was literally wearing the face of his aunt like a mask, blood dripping from the crude edges, spilling down the features of the rotted skeleton beneath as hellish white light glowed out of its sockets. The black mop of mane writhed like worms, growing out of the bones themselves, thick with grease and blood.
Not-Celestia looked down at him, then whispered lovingly: “Yes, my darling. Everything is going to be alright.”
She leaned down, trying to kiss him, and Blueblood screamed and shoved himself backwards as hard as he could. He tore free from the monster's grip, landing with a thud on his back as the world around him went black, but Blueblood didn't care: he was panicking and terrified, spinning around through the inky nothingness-
And instead, he found himself standing in front of the place where all his nightmares always began. The gates of Horsehead Cemetery, in Canterlot.
Blueblood's heart thudded in his chest, whimpering as he stared over the wrought iron fencing, the broken latticework patterns, the ivy that twined and twisted here and there over the rusting metal bars. There was no place in Equestria that terrified him more than this: the place where... where he'd last seen his real parents.
The gates creaked open, and Blueblood trembled before he tried to spin around, tried to run away... and impossibly, he found himself facing the gates again, his stumbling steps only carrying him closer before he fell in a sprawl in the dirt.
He clenched his eyes shut, breathing hard in and out, doing everything he could to try and will this nightmare away... but no. When he opened his eyes, it had only gotten worse. The gates seemed to twist, like they were reaching towards him, trying to pull him into their embrace; the fencing loomed ever higher, ever more terrible. Red light shone down from the blood-red sun as it hovered on the horizon, bathing the world in endless twilight.
Blueblood curled up, whimpering, refusing to take a step further as he clenched his eyes shut... but then there the creak of gates and the clash of metal, and when the unicorn's eyes snapped open, the gates were sealed behind him, and he was trapped inside this awful, terrible place. This hell he had tried so hard, so many times, to leave behind...
The unicorn trembled violently as he sat slowly up, and then he swallowed thickly as he looked back and forth, shivering. He didn't want to go ahead... but oh, the longer he stayed here, the worse it got. The red light became more intense, making everything look like it was washed in blood; the iron fencing curled inwards, like claws ready to rend and shove him onwards; all the tombstones seemed to shiver with anticipation, and the stone angels turned their heads to gaze at him, mocking him, deriding him, daring him to defy them...
He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to walk into the grips of his nightmare. But what choice did he have? He knew from experience that if he refused to, it would just get worse and worse: the cemetery would go from being a deluge of terrible memories to his every fear combined into one hideous menagerie...
Blueblood slowly staggered up to his hooves, staring down the path as he breathed harshly in and out, his whole body quaking with fear. He knew what had to be done, and he knew what was waiting for him ahead... but no matter how many times he faced this, the terror and the pain never became any less. No, it never got easier; this infected wound in his mind was never going to heal, and these nightmares were never, ever going to come to an end.
He trudged slowly forwards, breathing hard, trembling as he forced himself to move ahead step by slow, arduous step. Every nerve sizzled as he felt sweat running down his form, felt his stomach shriveling, his throat dry, his eyes watering...
And oh, every little detail was so... so crystalline in his mind. The smell of the freshly-mowed grasses, mixed with the dry scent of lavender. The feel of the pebbles and dirt beneath his bare hooves. The dried flowers in front of some graves, the talismans and gifts that rested in front of others...
Blueblood trembled as he passed a large, ancient fountain full of brackish water, which was topped with stone angels that pointed in the direction of his deepest, darkest abyss of memory...
The stallion shivered weakly, forcing himself not to stare at these... these awful, almost-alive sentinels of rock, to instead walk onwards even as the red light seemed to intensify around him, the path both stretching on endlessly and yet racing itself under his hooves, like all he had to do was stand still and it would carry him onwards.
The black pit waited ahead, and Blueblood moaned low in his throat as tremors ran through his body, looking back and forth desperately for some means of escape... but oh, no, looking around was only making it worse, brought back even more memories. There were the mausoleums, a corpse-feeder's pantry; over here, the crumbling tombstones and the rotted, one-eyed angel statue that signified he was entering the old cemetery.
Blueblood whimpered as he found himself stepping off the path and into a weedy, grassy trench: this part of the cemetery was rarely frequented, so it was much less well kept than the others... the gravekeepers couldn't be bothered to tend to this part of the massive, sprawling cemetery. Few ponies ever came back here, after all...
The unicorn trembled violently as he looked back and forth, passing strange, needle-like markers that had always terrified him: not just because they looked like jagged teeth or claws lining the path, but because these obelisks meant these graves had more than one occupant. Two, three... entire families, sometimes, were buried in these shallow pits, most of them ponies who had been too poor to afford their own graves or who had all died of the plague that had ravaged Equestria hundreds of years ago, so their bodies had been burned up and the remains shoveled rudely into these... these...
Blueblood trembled: he had vowed he would never, ever let that happen to him. When he died, he wouldn't go to a pauper's grave or some reeking death-pit. He wanted his body sealed in cement and buried beneath Canterlot Castle, in rock and stone and shale: his corpse would remain in stasis forever, safe from the bugs, the vultures, mortician's knives and the clammy lips of the gravedigger...
The young prince swallowed thickly, then looked up, his breath catching in his throat as he stumbled to a halt and realized... he was here. He was at the end of the weedy path, in front of the ramshackle ruins of what had once been a shrine, and was now nothing but a mossy, broken-down heap of stone and burnt glass, the victim of drunkenness and stovefire.
In front of it was a single grave: a pit, a gaping black eye in the earth. The red twilight made its darkness seem darker, made the edges look raw and bloody, like torn flesh; made the dirty shovel that had been cast to the side look as if it had been polished with blood.
But even the hellish light didn't dare touch the tall, thin unicorn standing on the other side of the grave. Blueblood trembled as he looked at him, feeling himself shrinking as the figure loomed, grew ever taller, his crooked body leaning and twisting its way towards the foal. An old, tattered raincoat fluttered around his body, and his face was kept in shadow by the wide-brimmed hat he wore... and yet his cold blue eyes all-but-glowed out of the darkness that masked his face.
The stallion pointed at the grave, and Blueblood whimpered, only a foal again, helpless to do anything but follow what the memories commanded. He strode slowly forwards, then looked down into the grave as tears spilled down his cheeks, staring down at the corpse of his mother... oh, his lovely mother, with her gorgeous golden curls, her face so pale and frozen in death, her eyes closed and the stains of blood on her dress like red flowers...
He heard the sound, and he looked up, as he always did, a moment before the shovel hit him across the face: his head twisted to the side as he stumbled forwards and fell, but his landing was soft... oh, but that was no comfort, as he stared down with terror at his mother's body before he screamed and ran for the edge of the pit...
But it was as useless as always: he scrabbled and clawed at the edge of the abyss, but he was such a little foal and this grave was so deep and there was nothing, nothing he could do as a mass of dirt hailed down over him, drowning him, sharp pieces of rock pelting him as he was knocked down against his mother's dead body.
He began to get up... and then he felt it, as he always did. The subtle twitch, before the grasp like iron locked around his foreleg, and Blueblood looked over his shoulder in terror at the sight of his mother staring up at him with blank, helpless, terrified eyes. She clutched to him desperately, and the foal screamed, unable to move before another hail of dirt fell over them both.
He tried to yank free, but his mother didn't understand... or didn't want to die alone, miserable here, trapped in the callous earth. The foal couldn't pull free as another thick hail of dirt fell, coating him up to the neck, burying his mother... but oh, oh, he could still feel her grip, and the colt shook his head in denial, covered in dirt and filth, looking up one last desperate time before he screamed: “Daddy, no! Daddy, s-stop!”
But his father didn't stop, didn't listen, didn't care: the dirt piled on, rained down, covered him as Blueblood felt it suffocating him, smothering him, completely drowning him beneath the avalanche even as he tried to scream-
A hoof seized him by the shoulder and yanked him suddenly upwards, and Blueblood gasped before he snapped awake, covered in cold sweat and reeking of fear and urine, trembling violently as he looked to the side and saw Sleipnir leaning worriedly in.
The young prince shook wildly, then burst into tears before he flung himself towards the earth pony, and Sleipnir caught him as Blueblood simply buried his head into the larger pony's chest, sobbing. The earth pony looked down silently at the young prince, and then he gave a faint smile, shaking his head slowly as he reached up and stroked back his mane like a foal, murmuring quietly: “Aye, let it out, 'tis no shame in it. I am here for thee, my friend.”
Blueblood cried until he could cry no more, and then he simply shivered, resting against Sleipnir as his breath hitched every so often, shivering and hating... no. No, he was too tired to hate. Too tired, and too weak: after all these years, he couldn't even bring himself to hate his father... he was pathetic, still hoping that maybe...
“I... I'm okay. Let me go.” Blueblood whispered, and Sleipnir chuckled quietly before half complying as he sat beside the unicorn and left a companionable foreleg around him. And Blueblood hated how... comforting that was.
The unicorn lowered his head, rubbing silently at his face before he bit his lip, then suddenly whispered: “I don't want to be seen like this.”
“Aye, I know.” Sleipnir smiled a little, shaking his head slowly. “'Tis natural to feel... strange, young prince. Uncomfortable, even. But I am thy friend and thou art my partner in this quest, and therefore I shall not abandon thee, even if thou desires abandonment. I fear 'tis simply not within my blood to do so.”
Blueblood closed his eyes, but he didn't have the strength to argue. So instead, he only shrugged listlessly, and there was silence for a little while between them.
The young prince felt himself calming little-by-little, however, until he was finally able to look up and ask quietly: “What time is it?”
“I would say that now it nears seven in the morning.” Sleipnir said softly, and Blueblood shifted a little as he half-looked over his shoulder towards the window: it still seemed so dark outside... “The clouds are heavy today, aye. I do not believe 'tis going to rain, though: this storm does not speak of ill weather, but it is rather an ill omen...”
Blueblood frowned uneasily over at Sleipnir: he was too tired and too anxious and too... drained to really do anything but listen to the stallion. And besides, Sleipnir was strange, but... right now, Blueblood didn't have the energy to come up with his usual denials and refusals to believe how nature talked to the earth pony. “What do you mean?”
Sleipnir was quiet, and then he shook his head briefly before murmuring: “I am not entirely sure myself, Blue. But an ill wind blows, of that much I am certain. Something wretched and wicked awakens... I only hope that it has not awoken because of my arrival.”
Blueblood frowned at this, and then he shook his head a little, and they were silent again for a while. Sleipnir didn't press the subject, and Blueblood was grateful for it, shifting a little before he finally murmured quietly: “My nightmares...”
The earth pony looked over at him, and the young prince licked his lips slowly before finally mumbling: “I... don't want to talk about them. It doesn't help, it never does. I... I just...”
Blueblood looked away for a moment, then he reached up and silently scrubbed at his face with one hoof before he closed his eyes and whispered: “Why do some things never get easier? Why... why do we have to remember things that we don't want to? I'm... I'm a prince now, Sleipnir, why is it that I cannot leave my past behind...”
“Because thy past is what formed who thou art now.” Sleipnir said gently, and Blueblood frowned at this, looking uneasily at the earth pony even as Sleipnir smiled kindly at him. “My friend... 'tis no great riddle, difficult as 'tis to understand. We are who we are because of what we have experienced, and... how we have chosen to take those experiences.”
Blueblood frowned, then looked down for a few moments before he shook his head and laughed weakly. “Maybe I would be... a better prince if I had actually been born noble, not... not a peasant. A lowly gravedigger's son...”
Sleipnir only shrugged at this, then replied gently: “Or perhaps thou would have been the worser for it, young prince. I do not pretend to know what thy memories are of, what these nightmares are that plague thee... but 'tis not too late to make something good come of this evil, young prince. It never is. Thou may still choose to face thy nightmares: instead of bottling thyself up, thou could take these evils and transform them into a gift of empathy. Into fuel, to feed a desire to stop others from suffering the same fate.”
Blueblood laughed shortly at this, then he turned away and hugged himself, shivering as he whispered: “You don't understand. You don't understand at all.”
Sleipnir didn't reply, simply rubbing the stallion's back gently, and the unicorn looked away... but felt what was almost a sliver of guilt. He hated that his mind was actually trying to grasp the concept Sleipnir had brought up instead of just discarding it out of hoof like he wanted to, as some bitter, angry part of himself tried to tell him how there was no way that Sleipnir could understand what he had gone through, that there was no way any good could ever come of those darkling dreams...
They just sat in quiet for ten minutes, before Blueblood finally rose his head and said almost hesitantly: “I... would like breakfast, Sleipnir. And... and then I will write a letter to Auntie Celestia and... I suppose...”
Blueblood bit his lip: he just wanted to keep busy today, but he had no idea what to do out here, which meant he really didn't have any choice but to... trust in Sleipnir, as much as he loathed to admit that. The young prince looked awkwardly over at the enormous earth pony, but Sleipnir only chuckled and smiled at him kindly, saying easily: “Well, we have much to work on, do we not? Breakfast sounds like a fine start, though, and after thou hast written thy letter, I shall train thee. Fair?”
Well... it was better than nothing, Blueblood supposed. But at this point, he'd take anything to keep his mind off the nightmares: he knew that if he spent the whole day thinking about them, it would just make the night even worse. So finally, he nodded and gave a hesitant smile, and Sleipnir smiled warmly back, nodding firmly in return.
At least it was something, right?
Prince Blueblood wheezed loudly as he dragged a large cart behind him, filled with rocks. His legs were wobbling, and even his brain hurt from all the work he'd been doing, and he couldn't help but wonder how the hell that tremendous jerk Sleipnir had talked him into this as he slowly dragged the cart up the hilly path while the earth pony simply trotted behind him, happily babbling away like the idiot he was.
Blueblood ground his teeth together slowly, but he refused to give in. He wasn't going to give the earth pony the pleasure... and besides. He was naked as a newborn, and he'd been conned into leaving his regal vestments at the top of the hill, and Sleipnir had already said he wouldn't undo the harness until Blueblood carted this load of rocks to the little lookout.
“Will you just shut up?” Blueblood finally snapped, and Sleipnir blinked and cocked his head in surprise, looking curiously over at the stallion. The unicorn tried to say something else, but all that came out was a weak wheeze as he nearly fell forwards on the steep road. Oh, this wasn't a prince's work, this... this was for peasants and idiots!
Then the earth pony slapped him on the shoulder, and Blueblood flinched and nearly fell over as his legs wobbled painfully beneath him. “Come now, look! Thou art nearly there! Push just a little further, young Blue!”
Blueblood growled under his breath, but then he swore to himself before forcing himself to continue onwards, wheezing loudly. Oh, everything hurt, and his heart throbbed in his chest, and he felt like he was going to vomit, but... Sleipnir was right, too. There was that big, dead tree that marked the top of the hill, and there were his clothes, hanging from the branches. All he had to do was get there...
The white stallion panted and trembled, but forced himself forwards. Every step ached... but when he finally reached the tree, he laughed weakly before flopping forwards on his face with a groan over the roots of the old oak.
He breathed slowly in and out, shivering a little, and then gave a sigh of relief: Sleipnir was congratulating him, but that didn't matter half as much as the fact he could feel the earth pony removing the straps from his body. And oh, the moment he was free of the harness, he felt so... so free. So light on his hooves, and the ache in his form was almost pleasant as he shifted a little, for once not even caring that he was out here laying in the dirt, sweaty and messy...
After a few minutes of rest, he picked himself slowly up... then frowned over his shoulder as he saw that Sleipnir had already emptied the cart and was starting to place the stones in a circle, the unicorn raising his head and wondering what the hell the stallion was doing.
He didn't have the energy to voice the question, though, so he simply watched until Sleipnir finally turned around and smiled down at him, saying cheerfully: “Thou hast done quite well, my friend! Aye, we shall only need to gather a few more loads of stones... I think tomorrow we shall work more on this project. 'Twill be good training.”
Blueblood scowled at this, and then he slowly picked himself up, shaking himself briskly and asking moodily: “And what precisely are we building, Sleipnir?”
“Oh, I am not quite certain yet.” Sleipnir said benevolently, and Blueblood blinked slowly at this before Sleipnir smiled cheerfully, gesturing easily around. “It depends upon how many stones we find, and how freely flows water in this region, among other things. But I am sure this will eventually become something rather nice. Or so I hope.”
Blueblood gave a short laugh at this, and then he shook his head in disbelief before scowling and asking moodily: “So this is only a game to you?”
“Life is but a merry game, young Blue! But do not fear.” Sleipnir smiled again, winking at the stallion before he reached down and easily hauled the unicorn to his hooves, Blueblood stumbling a little with a wheeze of surprise. “That is not so bad a thing, as thou seems to assume. And it does not mean thou art not learning much. Why, would thou ever have suspected before now thou wert capable of such a feat as this?”
“Yes, dragging rocks up a hill. I'm truly impressed by what you've taught me.” Blueblood mumbled, and then he sighed and began to reach for his girdle and traveling clothes before he shivered a little as he realized just how dirty he was. And his clothing was starting to get dirty itself... “Sleipnir, what about laundry? What about me? I haven't had a chance to bathe in days!”
Sleipnir looked thoughtful at this, and then he nodded a few times before he suddenly smiled and said kindly: “Then come, if 'tis so important to thee, let us head back to the inn and we shall find thee thy bath.”
Blueblood grumbled under his breath, feeling somehow like Sleipnir's idea of what constituted a proper bath was going to be very different from his own... and he certainly wasn't proven wrong, an hour later, as he sat out in the back yard of the inn in what was little more than a large wooden barrel. The water was lukewarm at best and he loathed the fact he was out in public, even if Sleipnir had already promised to keep all the guards away.
He splashed disconsolately at the water... then flinched and shrank down into the water as Invidia poked her head up over the edge of the barrel, licking her lips and smiling at him coyly. She leaned up, but at least made no move to slip into the tub with him as she greeted tenderly: “Hello, Prince Blueblood... I heard you had a rather nasty nightmare. Would you like me to take the pain away for you? I'd be more than happy to, my lord...”
Blueblood gave a weak laugh, and then he shivered a little and shook his head quickly, shifting uneasily. For one thing, he didn't think that Invidia could numb his nightmares like she had his hangover... and for another, he had the sense that if he let the demon try, she would see his nightmares. And as terrible and awful as they were, Blueblood also protected the secret of his darkest dream, held it tight and close in his heart, in spite of how much it scared him... but he could never afford to let anypony know the truth behind his nightmares.
Invidia studied him almost hungrily, and the prince shifted, trying to draw his gaze away. But finally, his eyes were uncomfortably drawn back to her, as the demon asked in almost a purr: “Is there anything else I can do for you then, Lord Blueblood? Maybe distract you in other ways, with other pleasures... you must be so tired after doing the titanic tasks that Sleipnir forced on you...”
The unicorn shifted a little, a faint grimace passing over his features: maybe it was because he was still in a bad mood, maybe it was because his ego was feeling frail, or maybe it was because he just wasn't as stupid as the demon seemed to think he was, but... her flattery just wasn't working right now. Titanic task, right: like he really needed compliments on how much effort he'd had to put into dragging a stupid cart up a stupid hill.
Still, he couldn't even bring himself to snap at her: she scared him too much, with her horrible golden eyes and how snake-like she seemed. She was beautiful, certainly, but for some reason, that just made him even more afraid of her. And he didn't even know why.
Invidia refused to take the hint or settle for silence, however, prodding after a moment: “You look uncomfortable... could I perhaps heat up the water for you? Or I can create music for you, my darling, would you like that?”
Blueblood hesitated... then he simply shook his head wildly, silent and scared as a foal. Invidia's face puckered at the reaction, but then she forced herself to smile after a moment, saying finally: “Very well, your lordship. Then I'll... simply stay here with you. You don't have to be afraid of me, you know... I won't let anything happen to your handsome head, no, no, no. I'm not like Sleipnir, my darling: he's a liar, a manipulator. He's just using you, so he can get back home and abandon you... but I'm going to stay by your side, forever now. Because I'm your friend, my darling. I'm your best friend, the best friend you will ever have, in this entire world...”
Prince Blueblood trembled violently, opening his mouth... before closing it in surprise as he realized he'd been about to actually defend Sleipnir. But... but all Invidia was saying was what he had come to believe himself... right?
He looked away... then sighed in something like relief when the earth pony himself came tromping out of the back door of the inn. Immediately, Invidia scowled horribly at him, but Sleipnir only gave that big, oafish smile of his as he walked up beside the tub and said cheerfully: “'Tis so good to see thee both here, trying to get along... although I would be wary, Blueblood, methinks that Invidia is but waiting for thee to look away so she can slip into the tub with thee! I find it strange, though, that thou hast not invited her into the waters thyself; rejecting the gift of a pretty mare seems the decision of a fool or masochist to me.”
The unicorn glowered over at Sleipnir, then snapped with only the faintest blush: “I... I already told you, the last thing I need are rumors about... relationships spreading! I have a certain duty to uphold that a mongrel like you could never understand!”
Invidia sighed almost dreamily, and Sleipnir smiled before he said cheerfully: “'Tis very nice to see thee back to normal, Blue. Although 'twill be even nicer once we manage to actually put thee in a good mood. Now that will be a fine day indeed.”
Prince Blueblood scowled, then he grimaced and rubbed at his stomach, complaining: “I'll be in a better mood when you get me some food, Sleipnir. Breakfast was barely anything and I have not eaten lunch.”
“I'll fetch you something!” Invidia volunteered immediately, but just as she started to dash away, Sleipnir shook his head and held up a hoof with a smile.
“Nay, breakfast was hearty, thou simply refused to partake of it in full! And dinner will be served in but an hour's time. Hold out until then, and then thou shall eat well and be full for the night. At least of food: I hope thou has a stomach for ale tonight!” Sleipnir winked. “For thou owes me two nights' worth of drinking!”
Blueblood rolled his eyes, then he sank into the lukewarm water, muttering: “I refuse to play your idiotic game, Sleipnir-”
“That is fine.” Sleipnir smiled cheerfully, winking at the unicorn. “I and the twenty fine warriors who have come with us shall merely continue to enjoy the hospitality of this inn and the fine drinkery thou art providing us with.”
Blueblood flinched at this, then he reached up and rubbed slowly at his forehead, shivering a little: Auntie Celestia was not entirely pleased with the fact that he had already spent so much money on ale alone, and he was well aware that if it continued for too long, she'd eventually cut him off... and he couldn't stand the idea of her being mad at him. Any more than he could stand the idea of being a penniless prince... “I'll... I'll tell Auntie it was all your idea!”
“Oh, thou hast not already?” Sleipnir sounded honestly surprised, and Blueblood looked up at him, dumbfounded. “Well, that is most generous of thee. I was wondering why I had not yet been scolded by Celestia, 'twas rather a surprise. Nay, thou should tell her, do not take all the blame upon thy own silly head! I will explain the purpose of the exercise to her and I am sure she will understand.”
Sleipnir spoke with such kindness that... it almost made the unicorn feel guilty. He looked awkwardly away, tapping a hoof against the side of the tub before wincing when Invidia said nastily: “He doesn't need you ordering him around like a foal, Sleipnir. Any more than he should have to speak up for you to his aunt. If you were even half the stallion you claim to be, you would have done it yourself by now.”
The stallion only smiled and shrugged easily, then replied cheerfully: “Well, 'twould be rather awkward, as I cannot write in the language of the ponies of today. I do not believe the Celestia of this world will be so familiar with runes, as the Celestia of mine own is.”
Invidia snorted, and Blueblood carefully let himself sink down into the suds and water, doing his best to hide from the two as they had their one-sided argument. Sleipnir certainly didn't seem intent on bickering with the demon, after all, even though Invidia was doing her best to make him angry... and really, Blueblood couldn't see how Sleipnir could still be smiling so honestly and cheerfully, how he could easily reply to every mockery and interruption with such... warmth and ease, never getting angry, never being more than playful and teasing.
Eventually, Invidia grew frustrated and stormed off, and Sleipnir watched her go almost curiously before he simply shrugged and turned a smile towards Blueblood, saying cheerfully: “Come, 'tis time for thou to get out of that wretched water. Thou art going to become a Kelpie at this rate, and then what shall I do? I cannot carry thee around in a great bucket upon mine back. Believe me, I have tried. Such things do not work.”
Blueblood looked moodily up at Sleipnir, then he rolled his eyes before grumbling under his breath and complaining: “Well, I need a towel!”
“Oh, a towel, thy lordship? Oh, fie and fiddlesticks, very well, I shall fetch for thee a towel.” Sleipnir sounded more amused than anything else as he strode away... as always, Blueblood reflected. Did Sleipnir even know what anger was?
Five minutes later, he did return with a real towel, at least, and Blueblood carefully climbed out of the tub – scowling as he stepped out onto the grass and immediately felt dirty again – then simply rose one of his forelegs and tossed his mane back, sniffing disdainfully. Sleipnir studied him curiously, and then Blueblood said waspishly: “Well? Dry me off, peasant.”
Sleipnir studied him thoughtfully, then suddenly grinned, and Blueblood realized far, far too late he should have just put up with drying himself before the earth pony tackled him backwards into the grasses. And Blueblood yelled and swore furiously, flailing angrily but helpless to do anything else as Sleipnir scrubbed wildly at him with the towel while rolling him back and forth in the grasses, saying cheerfully: “'Tis my honor to do as thou commands, oh mighty princeship!”
Ten minutes later, a frizzy, furious, grass-stained Blueblood finally sat up, his mane a rumpled mess and the towel hanging around his shoulders. Sleipnir only smiled benevolently at him, sitting across from the unicorn and studying him before he said suddenly: “I enjoy our time together.”
“I do not.” Blueblood said grumpily, and then he sighed tiredly before looking down at himself and muttering: “And I'm already as filthy as you are, again. Have my clothes at least been washed?”
“Aye, and I am quite certain that Earl Grey has done a fine job on them, too.” Sleipnir said cheerfully, and then he smiled and reached out to poke Blueblood's chubby gut, making him flush a bit before the earth pony said warmly: “And look at thou! Very soon, that silly corset will be a thing of the past, because there will be nothing for it to gird!”
“I... what?” Blueblood looked awkwardly down at himself, rubbing at his bulging stomach in embarrassment before he grumbled: “No, you're lying.”
“I am not!” Sleipnir said in an offended voice, and then he reached out and poked the unicorn's belly again, saying kindly: “Perhaps thou has yet to be completely aware of it, but thou art most certainly on a good road, and thy body is still young and able. I am glad to see it... and more important than thy tummy, look at this!”
Sleipnir grasped one of Blueblood's forelegs, winking as he teasingly squeezed the stallion's bicep. “There, the seeds of strength have taken root! Aye, mark my words, Blueblood, thou art already a handsome colt but we shall make a rugged and strong stallion of thee yet, and then I fear that I shall lose all my precious mares to thee!”
Blueblood couldn't help but laugh as a smile bridged his lips, blushing and shifting awkwardly before he looked down at himself, hesitating... then forcing himself to simply nod, clearing his throat before he muttered: “But, well... all this ale, I'm sure, isn't helping-”
“Oh, nay, there are few things better than ale to help with making a better stallion of thee.” Sleipnir said blandly, and Blueblood frowned before the earth pony reasoned: “Well, for one thing, 'tis not like it stays in thee for long. Thou drinks it, and through thy system it flushes, all to come out in only a few hours' time! What could be better than this?”
The unicorn looked at Sleipnir for a few moments, and then he sighed tiredly before asking irritably: “And what about all the liver damage and the lost brain cells?”
“Oh, pah, ale does not damage thy liver! What a silly thought. And I am most certain that if any brain is shaved off from drinking ale, 'tis only the parts that insist upon thinking all the worser thoughts.” Sleipnir declared cheerfully, shaking his head with a smile at Blueblood. “But 'twould be strange, to think that ale must go up into thy mind, flush out the wretched and the despairing parts of one's brain, and then bring it back down to be peed out. How funny, peeing out thy brain!”
Blueblood groaned loudly at this, rolling his eyes, but what he hated most was how hard it was not to smile at the sheer... foalishness of Sleipnir. And the fact that he couldn't even be completely angry at the stallion anymore, in spite of... well. Everything.
Blueblood absently wrapped his towel around his head, then he sighed when Sleipnir turned, following after the earth pony. He didn't really know what else to do, after all... although the moment he was inside, he felt Invidia's eyes on him, the mare gesturing to him with a warm smile where she was seated at a table with a tasty little assortment of snacks...
But the unicorn instead followed Sleipnir, before blushing as he realized too late the earth pony had led him to a table where several Royal Guards were playing cards. And before he could say anything, Sleipnir slapped him on the back and knocked him into the bench seat, the stallion wincing before the earth pony declared jovially: “Deal us in to the next hoof, friends! I am not very good at these games, but later I shall teach thee how to play runes, and then we shall see who wears the bridle tonight!”
The soldiers laughed, and Blueblood gave an awkward little smile: he didn't know how to excuse himself... and he was a little afraid of what would happen if he did slip away. He could just about feel the demon's eyes glaring holes in him, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to be cornered by Invidia or left alone with her...
It was awkward at first, but as they dealt out cards, Sleipnir just kept talking, dragging everypony into conversation with him whether they liked it or not... and soon, Blueblood was smiling a little, maybe even enjoying himself. He lost track of time... and when dinner was served, he was almost disappointed to break up the game. Maybe he hadn't been doing the best, but it felt... nice to be a part of something. And more importantly, Sleipnir really was absolutely awful at the game.
Invidia had vanished, so Blueblood retired to his room for a few hours after dinner: he mourned his sleeping charm and feared the coming night, but soon enough Sleipnir came up and dragged him down to the common room, for his stupid drinking game.
Invidia was here, too, sipping leisurely at a glass of wine, while everyone else had ale. And this time, almost all of the soldiers had waited for them to arrive as Sleipnir smiled warmly, saying cheerfully: “Now, once more, I shall remind all of thee of the wager. 'Tis thee against me, and we shall match each other drink for drink, until the loser can drink no more! Blueblood, thou art commander of thy team, and thou shall lead them against me as thou would if I were an enemy, does thou hear? Now put thy army to use and show me what thou can do!”
Blueblood grimaced a bit as Sleipnir sat down at the table across from him, and the unicorn hesitantly looked back and forth... but all the soldiers were looking at him, waiting for his order, his go-ahead. And after a moment, the unicorn gave a brief nod before he cleared his throat and said finally: “Then... well... I... how can we possibly win, Sleipnir, when you apparently can drink this ale like water, and every night we all end up... well...”
The other soldiers looked awkwardly at each other, but Sleipnir only smiled benevolently, saying cheerfully: “Why, by using every resource at thy disposal, that is all. 'Tis not an impossible puzzle, fear not. Difficult, perhaps, but... I expect a unicorn of thy noble stature should be able to lead these mighty soldiers against me and find victory, if thou only... thinks a little.”
Blueblood scowled darkly at this, and then Sleipnir winked and rose his glass before he said cheerfully: “Here, a toast to thee, and I shall give thee a head start!”
With that, he tipped back the glass and guzzled it down, then sighed in relief and slammed the empty flagon down against the table. And the young prince ground his teeth together in frustration at this, glowering over at the stallion and feeling like this was some kind of personal challenge before he growled: “Fine, Sleipnir.”
He picked up his own glass, then hesitated: there was some trick here, he was sure of it. He racked his mind for possibilities... then finally looked up and shouted: “And along with drinks, tonight... tonight, I'll pay for all the food you can eat!”
Sleipnir chuckled at this as the soldiers all cheered, and the earth pony winked at Blueblood before he said positively: “Well, thy mood has certainly improved at least, and that is certainly nice to see. But thou shall have to do better than that, I fear!”
Blueblood glowered, but he felt a strange determination taking root in his heart: whether or not this was an idiotic game to Sleipnir, he wanted nothing more than to win at it, whatever the cost...
And then the morning came around, and Blueblood woke up reeking of ale and... salsa, he thought, as he rubbed lethargically at his face. And he groaned weakly as he wrapped a foreleg around his stomach, feeling miserable and aching horribly before he crawled out of his seat and made his way slowly to the stairs.
Food had to have helped at least a little, right? Well... he didn't feel like vomiting, anyway. Which meant he'd either eaten less or... well...
He had blearily dragged himself to the bathroom... and it was only after he'd emerged that he realized that last night had been... dreamless. But he could still remember patches of the drunken war game, how he'd been dragged into singing with Sleipnir, how he'd eventually decided to put his head down just to rest for a minute and had ended up falling asleep from there...
But no nightmares. Blueblood gave a little laugh, then rubbed thoughtfully at his face... before almost jumping out of his skin when hooves grasped his shoulder and a silky voice asked: “How are you feeling this morning, my lord prince?”
Blueblood paled as he looked over his shoulder at Invidia, who smiled at him encouragingly before she almost purred: “Oh, you must have such a strong constitution to be up so early after such a long night trying to play Sleipnir's ridiculous game... and to think, he left you all alone, just wandered off into the wilderness... now, why does he go out there every night, all alone? Why does he avoid you and the soldiers he pretends to care for so deeply?”
The unicorn had no answer, but it was less because of any suspicions of Sleipnir, and more because the demon was invading his personal space, pinning him with her glowing eyes and her awful, sharp hooves, the stallion trembling before Invidia leaned in close and whispered: “Let me help you, Prince Blueblood... let me take away your pain and help you remove that nasty earth pony from your life... you don't need him, after all. You are better, superior...”
Blueblood gave a weak laugh, and then he finally managed to rasp out: “P-Please... step back. I... I don't like being touched.”
Invidia scowled a little at this, but then she nodded moodily and finally slipped away from him, taking a step back. Blueblood did his best to withhold his sigh of relief, before he flinched a little as the mare said softly: “There's no need to be so cruel, young prince. I may be your lesser, but all the same you should understand that I am worthy of respect... that I am the most worthy of your attentions, and that I would never, ever lift a hoof against you, my darling...”
She looked at him intently, and he swallowed thickly, looking back and forth before he was hit by a sudden inspiration, asking hurriedly: “Does... does that mean you could out-drink Sleipnir?”
The demon laughed at this, making a dismissive gesture with one hoof as she replied easily: “If that is what you desire, Prince Blueblood, I will be more than happy to... but in return, you have to do something for me. You have to give me the pleasure of your company for the night... and for the day afterwards, as well. Let me show you what I can do for you, if you'll only accept me as your dearest, most cherished friend...”
Blueblood smiled uneasily, shifting nervously back and forth... but he had made the deal. He had made the deal, and felt bad about it all day for some strange reason, complaining little as he hauled rocks for Sleipnir up the hillside to work on the stallion's idiotic... whatever it was. And when the night came, he felt almost guilty when Invidia had sat down at their table, Sleipnir looking surprised before the demon calmly picked up a glass and said nonchalantly: “Tonight, I will drink for Blueblood, my dear. As long as you have no problem with it, that is... and with losing, of course.”
Sleipnir smiled slightly at this, then he picked up his own flagon before surprising the young prince by saying cheerfully: “'Tis a step in the right direction, at least. But do not get too cocky yet, demon. Only a fool counts their basilisks before the eggs have hatched.”
Invidia clearly took this as a challenge, narrowing her eyes... and Blueblood drank little that night as he watched the contest between the two. The Royal Guard couldn't hope to keep up even as soldiers downed glass after glass of ale, while Sleipnir and Invidia knocked back cups of brew like they were nothing but water.
And Bluelood never did more than sip at his own ale, building up a bit of a buzz but little more, only staring in awe as Invidia and Sleipnir emptied keg after keg between them. And after hours of constant drinking, Invidia suddenly hiccuped, then scowled disbelievingly as she swayed on the bench seat, her golden eyes crossing before the demon said lethargically: “Im... impossible. 'Snot... possible.”
And with that, Invidia keeled backwards and crashed to the floor, giving one tremendous belch before her eyes rolled closed and she began to snore loudly. Blueblood had gaped, and Sleipnir – tipsy, giggly, but far from defeated – swayed a little before he called warmly to Blueblood: “The... the game is still on, Blue! Aye, let... let us drink, another round! Another round!”
Blueblood looked down at his empty cup, then he gave a lame smile before turning it over and putting it carefully down, knowing there was no way he could hope to beat Sleipnir. And it felt so strange to actually admit defeat instead of stupidly, brashly trying to prove his superiority in a losing battle, as the unicorn licked his lips slowly before saying finally: “I... I am going to bed.”
“Oh? Shall I accompany thee? It sounds like an invitation to mine ears!” Sleipnir waggled his eyebrows, and Blueblood gave the stallion a look of distaste as he winced backwards before the earth pony suddenly became serious for a moment, saying softly: “Thou art learning, aye, although it saddens me to see thee surrender... and yet makes me proud, too. For thou should never, ever fight with thy hooves alone. Instead, fight with thy mind.”
Blueblood looked silently at the earth pony, who looked back silently... then suddenly smiled before he hiccuped loudly, raising his flagon and declaring: “Thou art pretty!”
Then Sleipnir laughed loudly and stumbled up to his hooves, swaying only a little and singing happily to himself as he strode towards the doors leading out of the inn. Blueblood watched the earth pony as he made his way out, and then the unicorn sighed before rubbing at his head slowly, looking around the devastated common room and beginning to wonder just how much Sleipnir's oafish smile hid.