Start of Negotiations (Twilight) - Revised V2 Part 1

Changing Times’s Notes: First and foremost, this story is not mine to tell. That is why it is kept as a number of self-reports given directly from the Prince and Princess. They are the ones telling you, not me. I shall, however, be leaving notes at the beginnings of each chapter if necessary. I was somewhat wary of the concept when the Princess suggested it, but there are important things that need to be said that the reports themselves may not be able to express.

Second, and just as important, I feel the need to emphasize that my largest priority with these essays is not to make a historical account. There are already several historians in various universities evaluating the events that led to our peace with changelings far more objectively and concisely than I ever could.

I am aware the public is still somewhat wary of changelings. I was at the final trials of the changeling hunts in Stablem, and I was there when the Manehatten Riots broke out. Both occasions cost me friends – pony and changeling alike – but that’s why I need to share these reports. It’s so easy to focus on the bad that we all tend to lose track of the good, and I have met a lot of good changelings.

So where should I begin? Princess Twilight suggested I add my own personal notes, but I have no idea how I can possibly express my thoughts on what has been years gathering these ‘friendship reports’ without writing another book. Honestly, the concept of a friendship report still sounds a little sappy to me, but I have grown as a pony as I’ve come to know Twilight and Morpheus. I have come to be their friends – odd as it may seem – so I suppose the term is as fitting as any.

I have come to relish the many tangents of Twilight Sparkle and enjoy the many quirks of young Morpheus. They have led me on a personal journey through their lives so that I could share that journey with you, and I am humbled they think me worthy to do so.

Start of Negotiations: A Report by Twilight Sparkle

I suppose I should begin with the day the negotiations started. Most ponies would assume that diplomatic visits normally have a large amount of pomp and ceremony that go into setting them up. This is true in most cases. Some nations do it for the sake of pride in their traditions with parades and feasts and all manner of events. They put so much into their hospitality that they fail to actually get anything done at the meetings.

Some nations are more practical in their set up and host nothing but conferences. Such meetings end up as nothing but chains of stress-fuelled arguments in the long run – again, bogging down any progress as relations decay.

Equestria fell somewhere in the middle of this spectrum, but not for the reasons most other nations chose to do so. One of the perks of having an essentially immortal ruler is the wealth of wisdom said ruler gains over time. Other nations would choose to be in the middle of this spectrum of diplomatic hospitality versus diplomatic meetings in an attempt to appease nations who took to the extremes of each end of the spectrum.

The royal sisters – and through their lessons on ruling, myself – use the balance as a calculated attempt to keep negotiations in our favor. We meticulously schedule events and meetings, knowing when and where tensions will start to erupt and how long particular envoys need to cool down to approach a topic again. Social events are planned so that they are not overly demanding of our attentional resources, allowing us to mentally plan our next move in negotiations while the other envoys relax.

Sometimes we even extend the opening gala that inevitably occurs at each visit and use that time to casually bring up a topic that would have otherwise have an envoy foaming at the mouth. It’s quite astounding what the change in context from official proposition to casual comment will do to get them to at least consider some ideas, and the longer the gala runs on, the more an idea will worm its way into their head.

There’s more to it, but I believe I’ve made my point. I was used to a significant amount of warning on visiting diplomats. Granted, back then I was only given easy negotiations since I was still learning, but that only made it more important for me to have some warning.

Morpheus did not give me the slightest warning that he was coming for peace negotiations. It is somewhat understandable in hindsight, and I’ve had a lot of time over the years to think about just why he approached me as he did, but that doesn’t excuse the complete lack of warning.

That said, it was a calculated risk on his part. Without protocol to protect him, I could have easily just stomped him into the dirt under any number of pretenses. The fact that it was Morpheus and Morpheus alone who came to parley only compounded the fact that he was desperate, and that’s what he needed. I didn’t trust him at the time; I couldn’t trust him at the time. His only hope was to play into Equestria’s compassion and hope I would give him a chance.

Necessity or not, that did not change the fact that his unannounced visit was the cause of a very tiring day for me, nor that such an unexpected visit would irk me to no end as my schedule slowly unraveled. The fact that I was rudely awoken at dawn was only the tip of the iceberg.

The first and only warning I needed that today was going to be a bad day was blearily opening my eyes to find myself staring into a different pair of red and gold ones. I could do nothing but sigh internally and pretend to go back to sleep. I was not in the mood to deal with any kind of draconequi that day. Granted, there was only one draconequus left on Equis, but from what I’d heard the rest of his kind were as infuriating, if not more so, than the individual looming over me.

“Oh, Princess, time to get up…” Discord’s voice was, as ever, somewhere between charming and grating.

From a technical standpoint, it was very nice to the ears. I really shouldn’t have labeled it annoying. That being said, all it takes is less than five minutes of exposure to his personality to realize just why his voice tends to spike a pony’s blood pressure.

“Twilight…” I could hear the hint of annoyance in his voice this time. “Please get up. I don’t have time for your games right now, and Celestia’s given me a load of work heavier than that flaming ball of cake-fuelled indigestion she has floating around the planet. I’m stuck coming to you in my limited off time – trying to do something nice for somepony on my own for once – so please just get up.”

It was a trick. It had to be. Everything was tricks and pranks with Discord – even his work – and I was not in the mood to get up from bed to be instantly pranked. If he was going to mess with me, I was at least going to enjoy a little bit of satisfaction in denying him for as long as I could. Thus, I did the only logical thing to do and buried my head under my pillow on the off chance it would make him magically disappear.

I heard him sigh dramatically. “Alright, little Miss Know-it-all, just remember that you could have avoided this.”

There was the insidious thunderclap of cracking knuckles, and hiding beneath the pillows suddenly seemed like a much less logical decision. There may have also been lightning to go with it, knowing Discord, but I couldn’t be sure. It could have been the brilliant flash of maroon flavored alfalfa for all I knew.

“Shoo.”

I heard his fingers snap and felt a distinct lack of my wings or horn. Whereas before I had been annoyed, now I was livid. I started to round on Discord to give him a piece of my mind when I heard the second snap.

“Bee.”

I pulled in a breath, but – instead of gathering fuel for a long and arduous tirade – I found myself choking on the air as if it were thin soup. My lungs felt strangely empty. As I spied my new seahorse-like tail and felt something suspiciously like gills on my neck, I understood. I glared at Discord, and he grinned like a madman with fine taste in tea and hats.

“Doo.”

It was at this point a veritable ocean decided to deluge itself upon me. Hard and fast, the water essentially pinned me to the bed. I couldn’t move to intercept Discord, so I decided with a mental sigh to simply wait things out. I should have known provoking Discord would make him do something like this. It’s always easier to just go along with what he wants. After all, he’s mostly harmless nowadays.

Laying beneath the deluge, I began to plan for potential consequences. Later that day, Celestia would no doubt send me a report detailing how a giant spigot and drain suddenly appeared off the edges of Bostang – or some other port city – and began cycling water from the harbor. I would, in turn, report that it was just Discord being Discord and we had nothing to worry about. It was almost routine by now.

Not that Celestia was really worried. The reports were simply one of the ways the Princess was getting me to practice handling whatever complaints the various nobles, pressponies, or just plain whack jobs were going to start sending my way eventually. They were also an excellent excuse for us to catch up.

Eventually, the deluge stopped, and I was able to take stock of my surroundings again.

The draconequus had at least been considerate enough to leave my belongings dry, although my bed was damp from the water I was shedding on it. My dresser and vanity were fine, although the mirror appeared to have a light coating of mist. The pillows and rugs in front of the fireplace appeared just as cozy as ever. And the books – must not forget those – were all in perfectly pristine condition, ordered first by subject and then by author alphabetically with a special shelf specifically reserved for my favorites.

Discord just floated there with that smug smile of his. His serpentine body coiled about the air above me, idling back as if resting in one of Rarity’s many fainting couches. “Ready, Your Highness?”

“You do know most ponies would have used a bucket of water, right?” I glowered at him – mimicking what the nobles fearfully called Celestia’s ‘To the Moon’ voice. Celestia actually referred to it as her ‘To the Sun’ voice in my lessons, because sending Luna to the moon was painful for Celestia – it was something she never wanted to do. Sending the recipients of this voice to the sun, should the princess decide to do so for once, would only be painful for them.

Not that she ever did so. The tone alone had always sufficed for the princess’ purposes. On the few occasions I’d seen it used, the room would rumble as if the earth was about to crumble beneath me, and my bones would ache from the strength of the vibrations.

Thus, it was somewhat surprising to me when Discord merely chuckled at my comment. “Oh, that’s so sweet. Maybe one day you’ll even sound as grim as your oh-so-sunny teacher.” He winked, slinking through the air around me like a serpent constricting its prey. “Until then, try to keep in mind who she perfected that little trick on. Now, are you coming? If not, I have several more arguments that I’m sure you’ll find very persuasive.”

It was tempting – it really was – but, in the end, logic won, and I relented with an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but this had better be good. Can you fill me in on the way, or are you going to be nothing but an enigmatic plothole?”

Discord laughed and flew to the door, opening it for me. “I thought Celestia was the enigmatic one.”

I shook my head trotting down the hall. “No, she’s the cryptic one.”

It was a quiet snicker, but it was a snicker, and, if there’s one thing you learn with Discord, it’s that it’s the quiet laughter you need to worry about.

The draconequus’ next statement only added another piece of evidence to this hypothesis. “So you’re saying Celestia is a cryptic plothole?”

My glare was cold enough that I could have functioned as the Matterhorn again, and he promptly let it drop.

“Got it. Celestia’s just cryptic,” he grumbled.

At least that’s what I thought at first.

“Luna must be the plothole.” His grumble turned into a grin.

I sighed, letting him get it out of his system.

“And only together are they a pair of cryptic plotholes.” A snap of his talons summoned a list of all my friends and family. “What does that make Cadence, though? Is she—”

I was not going to let him finish that statement. My mind was already filled with all sorts of horridly gross images of what he could say about the alicorn of love, and I was sure he would say something at least ten times worse than anything I could come up with.

“If you continue that much further, you might find yourself unable to talk. I may not be able to completely petrify you, but I’m sure I could convince Fluttershy to at least let me turn your vocal chords to stone.” My voice was quite guttural. It was almost a low growl really.

“Alright… Alright…” Discord whined as he filled the list with some chicken scratches from an actual chicken. “Geez… It’s no wonder you’re the anal retentive one, Twilight. Your ancestors certainly ended up retaining Luna’s temper down the family tree, and as we’ve already established she is a plothole.”

Words could not express the depth of my frustration at this. Even if they could, I’m fairly certain I’d need to redact them. I think the draconequus finally realized, however, how close he was to crossing the line, though, because he actually started to tell me why I was so rudely woken up.

“Enough chit-chat though, my dear. There’s business to attend to!” Discord clapped his paw and talon together, grinning. “You see, I was recently approached by a foreign dignitary who wanted a meeting with one of the princesses. Now, normally I just ignore politics, but he was very insistent that the normal means wouldn’t work for him and that only I could provide the meeting he sought. And you know how much I love bending, if not breaking, the rules, so I thought, ‘No harm in helping a foreign nation peacefully negotiate with Equestria,’ and brought him here.”

I fought the urge to face hoof. Of course, all it would take is a little preening of the draconequus’ enormous ego to get him to do something like this.

He continued on, either blithely unaware of my irritation at his flagrant shattering of protocol or hiding his amusement much more skilfully than usual. “I left him waiting in the study to go get you.”

I massaged my temple with my hoof as we continued along. Walking with three legs was a little awkward, but the relief from the slowly building headache a pony can only get from Discord was well worth it.

“And did you think to run a background check and see if this ‘dignitary’, happened to be who he claimed to be? Did you check that he wasn’t an assassin, or that he wasn’t going to run off and pilfer the castle when you brought him here? Did you do anything to make sure this won’t blow up in our faces? Because that’s why all those protocols you hate are in place.”

He gave a nonchalant wave of his paw, brushing my worries off like they were nothing. “Relax, Princess; I got things handled. I magically locked every cabinet, door, chest, and orifice that could even remotely hold some precious state secret. I replaced all the documents in the room with a random collection of foals’ drawings Tia keeps stored in the castle attic, and – by our guest’s request I might add – I placed a giant anti-magic bubble in the room to make sure no foul play could happen.”

I arched an eyebrow at the slippery serpent beside me. “He was the one that suggested an anti-magic bubble? I mean, it’s a nice gesture of good faith, but it seems a little extreme.”

We had arrived at the door to the study, or rather the door to my official study. Friendship Castle had, ironically enough, decided to give me a vast and lonely place to call home. There were multiples of almost every room, enough sleeping quarters to rival Canterlot Castle’s bustling community, and even training barracks for the guard. Despite all this, it was currently only inhabited by Spike and I. There was simply no need for a castle this size in a small town like Ponyville.

Discord chuckled softly as he opened the door. That immediately set off even more warning bells in my head, but he was already pushing me through the door. I tried to squirm my way out of his grasp, but it was too late. I felt the anti-magic field clamping down, and that made me next to powerless to escape.

“Oh, it’s for him as much as it is for you,” the draconequus said, “He said something about not wanting to be attacked on sight. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be here the whole time. If he’s actually a threat, he’ll find himself dumped right in the middle of the guards’ training barracks in Canterlot faster than Tia orders cake for dessert every night. Isn’t that right, little princeling?”

His last statement was not addressed to me, but to the room we had entered.