Sovereign

by Imperaxum

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Other
Length: 4062

Tirek met his end in the Griffon Empire, cut down by gunpowder and steel; in an Equestria robbed of its Princesses, ponies with ambition try to rise above the rest of the herd.

Tirek met his end in the Griffon Empire, cut down by gunpowder and steel; in an Equestria robbed of its Princesses, ponies with ambition try to rise above the rest of the herd.

I conquered a country, raised an Empire. Without cutie mark, purposeless. Without magic, weak. I had ambition, and I won. I won, a self-deprecating and appallingly flawed pony. History shall judge me, for my days are few indeed.

Reliving memories of more exciting times with an assistant, pondering my legacy. Thus is the end of the Emperor of Equestria.

Third place entry for the Rage Reviews group contest, F*** THIS PROMPT #2

The prompt: Your self-insert takes over Equestrian.

Must be completed and submitted to the contest by April 13th.

Published 2015-04-12 03:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-13 00:17:29 UTC

Passing

I often thought about the Princesses in these days. I knew many of my advisers gave their advice solely in the Princesses' memory, of what they would do, but I thought of the simpler things. Of happier lives and lovely weather, of laughter freely given and smiles unwon. Of times I could walk.

This bed was too soft. I wasn't ready to slip into the embrace of death, and certainly not my sheets. Ancestors know I'd probably suffocate. With a yawn, I placed the maps I had been poring over back on the bedside table.

"Fritter?" I called, heard steps outside the heavy, ornate door. I coughed harshly, and the door was practically bucked open in haste. Lady Lavender Fritter, Chancellor of the Equestrian Empire, bounded through the door with a look of distinct worry.

"What do you need?" she asked, breathless.

"A new bed. I know, third this week. It just isn't doing it for me." I said, trying to anticipate her reaction.

Raised eyebrows were more restrained then I'd imagined. "Of course, Emperor." she said, then coughed herself. She relaxed, running a hoof through her mane, fussing with her bun as she continued, "you know, this is you most arbitrary use of power in a very long time."

The past. Memories clawed at my vision, fighting for attention. "And a stupid one, I know," I said, "you've rubbed off on me. Ever practical. Anyway, I'm only unreasonable on the stupid things."

"Your bed choice is hardly stupid, Emperor. Ponies fret over their comfort more than you do." Fritter said, giving me a disapproving tilt of her head.

"Still stupid. My comfort will only really matter to myself, and anything that benefits none other than oneself is the most pure kind of waste. Of life, no less."

I frowned. "At least that's I've screamed to a thousand crowds, and said in a few thousand words of chaff to a hundred leaders. Ancestors know at least I've managed to practice that little spiel to mediocrity."

It was Fritter's turn to frown. "Come now, Emperor."

I cracked a tiny smile. "I guess this is the part where I tell you to refer to me by my real name, just to prove how good a ruler I am."

"But I never do," Fritter smiled back, "by mutual consent."

"One must keep up decorum. It is one of the pillars of authority."

"Another thing you've said to me many, many times. It's good to see you working."

I followed her gaze to the map on my desk. "No, just going over dispositions for crushing that Harthaer rebellion. I know," I raised a cautioning hoof, "that other ponies can do that. But it helps me take my mind off the future. And the past. Nothing grounds in the here and now like ordering troops around."

"Even from your deathbed," Fritter said bluntly, earning a flinch from me. "Emperor, you can't busy yourself with such . . . pointless things as this. There's been dozens of rebellions put down over the years. You could be spending your time in much worse ways, I suppose, but you've got to face the future."

"I know, I know," I mumbled, turning away from the map, staring at nothing. "Tactless as always, Fritter."

"I think that was a pretty nicely roundabout way of saying you need to keep preparing for your death."

Her words worsened the ache in my chest. "Ech, you're right, of course. Thinking of the common pony instead of the dying pony."

"Equestria can't have another instance of its leader disappearing without a whit of guidance," Fritter said, a familiar sentiment.

"Equestria has you, though. Half my 'guidance' is telling ponies to listen to you, or telling you how to run x or deal with y. It's quite blessed."

"And then I get to rule for a few years without you, and then die. Hopefully in such a way that the country doesn't fall into utter chaos."

I sighed. "I don't envy you, Fritter. I'm trying to fight the urge to just say 'it won't be my problem in a week!' and give up."

"But there's still a noble streak in you. Even with all your self-deprecation behind these doors, you do want to help ponies."

"Of course. Give them organization. We're aimless, without cutie marks. Weak, without magic. I think that's changing, though. Pity I'll never see it."

"I don't envy you," Fritter said, jabbing a hoof towards me, "not being able to see the end of your life's work."

"Was it ever to help, though? Was it all rhetoric?" I sighed, voicing the dark thoughts I'd been having for many weeks. "Or was it all just for the thrill of taking over a country, piece by piece, playing the grand chess game of alliance and conquest? Chess is a game of annihilation. Terrible practice for real diplomacy, apt comparison for a divided country. Tirek took everything, and I managed, I guess."

Flitter looked concerned, actually concerned. Fresh concern at these unwelcome thoughts.

"But look at me now. My dealings with rebels and upstart nations around Equestria. The Empire has many enemies, and all are suspicious of us at the most benign."

Flitter and I were quiet for a minute, staring at each other in complete weariness. Finally, she broke the silence, speaking softly. "If that was thrill, then I don't think such self-destructive thrill could exist. Nor would I have served with you. We're both idealists. Me, a baker. You, a simple townspony whose profession you always sidestep when it's brought up. Heh." We shared a chuckle.

"Anyway," she continued, smile falling, "we really are idealists. You might be more self deprecating, but you had vision. You saw past the hope of the Princesses returning and faced the reality of it. That's why I joined you. That's why I dedicated my life to you."

I shook my head. This was new, too. "Not to me. I'd couldn't forgive myself if you wasted away your life helping my sate my ambition. Ponies served me for order. For a better Equestria. Something approaching the memory of the Princesses' rule, the Elements. Not me."

Fritter leaned over and lay a hoof on me, warm on my wrinkled skin. "I served you, and I would have it no other way. You made many mistakes, and you were all the more real for it. I wanted a part of history at first. I got the Emperor of Equestria. You're a friend, and my life is one of little regret alongside you. For what, thirty-nine years?" The ache in my chest disappeared.

I smiled. "Forty-five. You're getting old, too."

"That I am."

And that's why of all the things I would miss with death, Fritter was the most painful. Forty-five years. A whole country, taken by an all too flawed pony, with a priceless assistant.

"This was a good conversation," I said, "first time in a long while it hasn't been reports. Or worse, the same things over and over. Sometimes I feel like we've exhausted every whit of conversation on ruling a country."

"Yeah," Fritter said, then, perking up, "hey, can I stay here a little while?"

"Of course."

"I want . . ." she trailed off, pursing her lips, "to talk about the past. One last time. You always sat the last few years have been a nadir, let's live out the good times, and bad. When we really lived, and weren't just planning for others after our deaths. Together."

I grinned, flat-out grinned, relishing in the purity of the joy. "Of course, Fritter. A thousand times over. Remember the beginning?"

Of course she did. The farm, Horstshire, the start of the journey. When I felt like myself.

We lost ourselves in the past.

Author's Note

1/3, I think. Let's see if I can get this done.

Upstarts

"There is a visitor, sir."

I turned, vaguely annoyed at the intrusion, putting down the book I had been scribbling into. "Let them in. Guard the door."

The guard bowed, shouldering his crossbow as he walked out. A town leader, perhaps. If I was lucky, maybe they'd join my cause without a fuss.

I had been joking at the time. Quite bitterly.

A mare strode through the entryway to my tent, pale yellow coat and purplish mane dull and grimy with obvious travel. The guard followed her in, and clicked to attention, getting an odd glance from the mare.

One must keep up decorum. "Greetings, m'am. What brings you here?" I asked curtly.

"I didn't actually think they'd let me in," she said, then blinked. "Shucks, sorry. I wanna see what this is all about."

"Are you the leader of a town?"

"Uh, kinda. Hortshire sent me over here, wanted to see what's happening. We heard about stability here. The elders are obsessed with it."

That brough a glow to my chest, and finally focused my attention on the mare. "Well, then you've come to the right place. The guards just let you right in?" The guard at the door shifted uncomfortably at my question. "It's no matter. Soon, ponies will know all about what I stand for without having to waltz into my encampment to find out. Unless your here to assassinate me or something, which I rather doubt."

Fritter shook her head, awkwardly glanced around my tent. She must have been disappointed at its dully practical aesthetics. Nothing a blue banner in the far wall, my cot, table, lantern, and papers.

"I like this tent," she said quietly. Huh.

"Thank you," I replied, turning back to my book, wearing my best gracious smile. "I hope I've made a good impression for your elders."

"What's that your working on?" she asked, then coughed. "Uh, I mean, if you're getting back to your work-"

"It's fine." I waved a hoof, slid it across the table to face her. "It's a guide to tactics. Drills and the sort. i'm hoping to start training my forces, such as they are, with it."

Fritter nodded slowly, without much in the way of comprehension. "Why not just borrow a book on the Royal Guard or something? Hortshire Library had some of those. Never read them..."

The chance to explain myself was duly relished. "You see," I lowered my voice, "I don't want to copy the Royal Guard. The Guard had pegasi. Magic. Half their tactics was probably some variation on making a shield. We're ponies now, all of us, magic-less and weak. I'm making formations that are built around things us ponies are now capable of."

"The Princesses . . . ?" Fritter began, clearly thinking over my words.

"Are gone. Call me a fool who gives up too easily, but I managed to get reports from the Griffon lands. You know what they said?"

"That Tirek died. How we're stuck here without cutie marks, the Elements, anyone." Fritter sighed.

"How Tirek died. The griffons massed cannons, moved with superb discipline. They died in droves but brought Tirek down in a valley. That is how we must act from now on. Formations. Organization."

"You're rebuilding a tradition."

"I'm making a tradition. I must have a plan for the future. This country, Equestria, we need to move on. There are no Princesses. There is no magic. Hoping for their return is not enough. Expending what little we have trying to find mages to return the past is insane. I've given up, and I've moved on. I want this whole country to." I finished with severity, slightly taken aback with the passion in my words.

Fritter just stared at me. Surely I couldn't be imagining the respect with which she now regarded me. Wretch as I was, had I managed to convince somepony?

"Yes, you did." Fritter smiled at me, and I returned it. "You never admit it, but you can speak with authority, and you had vision."

"Had. A fond memory."

"It's hard to imagine the Equestrian military back then. A bunch of ragged ponies with pikes and exhaustion."

I closed my eyes, sunk into my bed. "Not for long, though. I certainly did build a tradition, didn't I? That's how I won, such as Equestria today can be called victory."

"Trust me," Fritter said, "it is."

I stepped out my tent and onto the marshaling field of Hortshire, nerves tingling. Three neat blocks of ponies stood ramrod straight in a light drizzle, trickles of water running down their uniforms; blue and black, simple helmets and rugged cloaks. Pikes were clutched steadily in the hands of two of the formations, crossbows and pavises raised in the other. The mass of ponies stared unblinkingly ahead, and I gave an approving nod.

The commander stepped out, a single length of gold braid down her side distinguishing her. "Sir." she said, stopping in front of me with a curt nod.

"Commander, you do Equestria great service with the conduct of your troops." I said, as solemnly as possible. "A vast improvement in a mere eight weeks." I briefly turned my head, giving my tent a glance. Waiting inside was Lavender Fritter, who met my gaze and walked out, a hoof wrapped around a cloth-covered pole. She joined me and Commander, passing off the pole to me.

"I hereby christen you the First Battalion of the New Model Equestrian Army. May you serve the nation and its ponies well in the coming years," I intoned. "You are the beginning, let yourselves be the example to all who follow. This Army shall be great, and it must be! We have no one but our own strength, courage and discipline now. Let this banner fly high wherever you go, and do it honor." I unwrapped the cloth, raised the pole, shook out the brilliantly blue banner inlaid with gold.

1st Equestria it read, and directly below that, By our own strength we will find peace. I passed it on to the Commander, and she thrust it into the air, followed by a hearty cheer from the 700-something ponies. 700 ponies, a number that still surprised me. Wretches and desperate folk, some seeking purpose, others wanting order; some just wanted to get fed and clothed. Ponies all, however, mortals to the last. The formations broke up to the supply wagons on the other side of the field, kitting up for the march. I wasn't about to mope about with a force like this.

I left the Commander with a quiet thanks and headed back to my tent with Fritter. "That was a good speech, sir," she remarked.

I scoffed. "Hardly counts when you spent the better part of the previous day thinking it over. Still," I said, brightening up, "barring the speech, that was great. Things are coming to head faster than I thought they ever would."

"Indeed," Fritter smiled, holding the flap of the tent open. "Ponies have proven awfully receptive."

"I just tell farmers to send their crops to farming towns, and give the farmers security from the thieves. Half of my followers with weapons aren't even out on that field; they're out in the countryside, guarding and relaying messages. But you know that."

Fritter said nothing, shaking off some of the rain from her coat.

"Anyway," I said, feeling a twinge of excitement, "on to Baltimare."

Fritter yawned, running a hoof through a graying hair. "And everything went better than expected."

"It did. The pains of ruling came after."

"It went by so quickly."

"The Army expanded quickly."

"How did you do all this?" the Mayor of Vanhoover asked me, pacing his office. "In a year. So much of Equestria!"

"Indeed," I replied, carefully restraining my voice. I didn't want a repeat of Dodge Junction.

"How? You're a tyrant! You might as well proclaim yourself Emperor!"

"Not a bad idea," I said, and the Mayor flinched. "You want to know why? Most are hardly eager to join the new Equestria, but they do it anyway. Stability does that."

"Tyranny."

"Perhaps. Impressive, how you've achieved self-sufficiency here." Perhaps flattery would help.

"Even you admit that Vanhoover doesn't need you lording yourself over us." the Mayor spat, shaking his head, turning away from me. Apparently not.

"You'll see," I promised, "no matter how self-centered this seems, you will see. Equestria is split into three parties. Those who still look to the Princesses, to false hope, who waste their lives and often forfeit them for something that will never return. There are those who merely survive, like you - can't make sense of it, but damned if you'll let it kill you. Bandits, towns, doesn't matter. You do nothing to try and alter the status quo. And finally - pay attention here - there's those like myself, who have let go of the past. A thousand years of benevolent rule is hard to replace, especially when replaced by me, but ponies can see the future. Step back, and you'll know we must do more than survive and hope. Friendship conquering all is gone. We have nopony but ourselves, no magic, nothing. No cutie marks to tell us what to do. Society itself must change."

The Mayor shook his head again. "I cannot," he said, "Vanhoover will never knuckle to a foreign invader. You're a conquerer flying the banners that you call Equestrian. I'll tell my militia to fly the real Equestrian standard, with the Princesses as they should be, celebrating our harmony."

He would not be swayed. Too bad. "We already have harmony. There are no three tribes anymore. Everything has to change. See you around."

I stalked out the door, where Fritter and a Vanhoover Guard waited. "How'd it go?" Fritter asked, the Guard making no attempt to disguise his interest.

"I'm getting better at coming up with a decent speech right on the spot. Not well enough, though." The Guard tensed at my words. I turned to him. "I wouldn't answer the call to the outer wall if I were you."

Fritter and I started down the hallway. I glanced through the doorway and into the Mayor's office before we left; he was in his chair, head buried in his hooves, shaking slightly. Poor fellow. "Fritter, tell the soldiers prepare. We need only kill that Mayor. Let the First Equestria lead the way."

And so my army was bloodied.

"That Mayor died on the end of a pike, didn't he? Poor fellow. One more death hardly matters." Fritter commented.

"Sometimes I think we're the only two ponies with any kind of memory of him. Poor fellow indeed," I said, and I mostly meant it. "And now we're here."

"Now, now," she tittered, "we're skipping an awful lot. The coronation, for starters. Years of maneuvering."

"Hubris and luck, the lot of it. The coronation was hardly anything." I scoffed.

"And that's why I cherish it."

"I'm serious about this, I think the Equestrian Empire is an excellent rallying cry." I said.

"Eh, sure, I suppose. Emperor." Fritter deadpanned.

"Excellent!" I flashed a cheery smile. "Now, for the coronation . . . I doubt my enemies will take kindly to this."

"How about you just start signing off on things with 'Emperor'? Let's see who notices," she proposed, quite tiredly. We both were exhausted in the months after the storming of Vanhoover. It was gratifying to see Fritter display this kind of levity.

"That's sounds wonderfully immature. Let's do it." I said, grinning.

"In hindsight, a terrible decision." I lamented.

"Ponies weren't exactly appreciative, no. Hubris indeed. That's behind us, though."

"It is. So much, Fritter. We can't possibly relive it all. Years of politics and maneuvers, a lifetime of expanding Equestria's borders and shaping it's ponies."

"Yes, sir."

"Fritter, can you help me to the window?" I asked suddenly, propping myself up. She nodded her assent, and in some pain, I stumbled over to the wall, hoof draped over her neck. Pain shot through my limbs, but it didn't matter. Joint aches weren't killing me. A lifetime of miserable living habits and undiluted stress was.

Lavender Fritter opened up the blinds, and I stared out at Canterlot, down at Canterlot. The days of ornate white marble and tasteful, soaring architecture were vague memories in the older ponies by now. Urban clutter, a dirty city spread out in all directions on the ground. Factories belched smoke, more stains on a besotted air. Trains trundled about on overhead tracks. Airships, messaging towers, throngs of ponies bustling about in the twisting streets below.

I sighed. "This is my life's work."

"A bit of a sore sight," Fritter said.

"It's so . . . perfect, Fritter. Industry and technology, steam engines, everything. Society is changed." I looked to the floor. "I can hardly remember my old life. I don't even remember my cutie mark." A sigh. "This is it, I guess. Conqueror of Equestria."

I turned away from the window, coughed again, kept talking. "I can see a hundred ways for Equestria to continue. Either way, I'm sure I'd hardly be able to recognize it a hundred, two hundred years from now. Either ponykind will advance to incredible heights, or . . . I'd rather not think of the depths we could sink to. See you around, Fritter."

"Give the Princesses my regards." she said simply, choking back on her emotions, failing.

"They're still in Tartarus, remember?" I said, then stopped. Cracked a wry grin, let out a short laugh. "Very funny. Even I do go straight to Tartarus, which is impossible since I'll be dead and Tartarus doesn't work that way, you'd follow me straight into it."

That made Fritter laugh. "I would. Rest up, Emperor. Equestria will persevere."

"That makes me happier than I could have imagined in my youth," I said, stumbling back to my bed. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

She left me in the bed, and I settled in, thoughts of a new bed gone. I hadn't told her about my recent dreams; of half-remembered ponies, birthdays, cozy security. My family.

Tonight, though, I dreamed of them again. The dream seemed more lifelike than ever before, until I realized why.

End

Hello. If you are reading this, doubtless you have followed the instructions engraved upon it and have successfully undone the clasp without it exploding. Congratulations. Perhaps the sudden appearance of this urn requires context, then. You have earned that much. And if you've opened it by some arcane work of technology, then I am in no position to dispute your actions.

In the later years of my life, I siphoned off a small but steady percentage of the national income to a personal project. Dozens of agents making queries across the world; soon, I had a pony with special instructions on every exploration fleet. Fueled some intricate conspiracies, and while foreigners have never needed much evidence to immediately suspect the worst of the Empire, I swear on my life that this urn was the extent of my ambitions.

With that particular project, at least.

Success came in the last years of my life. I traveled to the mountains, talked with the mage. Talked of the old times. Almost as good company as Fritter. He was relived my task for him was so relatively benign.

In this urn are all my personal effects. Study them, burn them, use them as toiletries. I suppose it depends on the state of society right now. I hope Fritter was all right. I'll admit there's nothing particularly significant in here, just things of historical note. My final gesture to be remembered, and if there is no life beyond death, a memento of somepony who once lived, but no more.

I will not busy you with my ramblings any longer. If Equestria still exists, blessings upon it, and its ponies, two hundred years from me.

First Emperor of the Equestrian Empire

Not much to go by, but the other documents are fascinating. I'm sending it to the Archives in I-7. Of more practical note is the residual magic we're detecting; powerful, more complicated than I've ever seen. Ponies are regarding the readings with a bit of fear over here. Hopefully your ponies can make better sense of it. They're fading, so act quick. My regards.

~ Head Researcher Silicon of the Canterlot Institute of Technology

+sent along secure telecomms wire 429-3-21-theta-20+
+priority IV+
+equestria over all+