Deferential Peace

For six weeks, an unrelenting gray haze had blanketed the skies above Canterlot like a thick layer of concrete. The grace of both sun and moon had been blotted out almost entirely, leaving dreary days and nights so black, only the eyes of subterranean diamond dogs could bring anything into focus. The miasma was beyond the power of any but the most well-organized party of Cloudsdale weatherponies to clear up, though Princess Celestia knew no help would be coming from above.

The crown princess of Equestria, staring at the sky from her private balcony, wrapped a hoof around her shoulder and let a shiver run through her worn frame. It wasn’t cold out - if anything the air was sticky and heavy with cloying humidity. The only reason she knew the sun and moon still rose and fell at all was due to her own role in their respective journeys, but it was a comfort to know that light still shined somewhere. She wished only that each of the citizens in her charge were as empowered as she, and could rest peacefully with the same knowledge in their hearts.

As she gazed at the blighted afternoon sky, she thought again upon the denizens of Cloudsdale. It had been nearly two weeks since she’d received any communication at all from the city above the clouds, but this was not unexpected. The wall of cottony-steel that persistently blocked out each rainbow and every silver lining was proof enough that they had suffered the same fate as the rest of the nation to which they bore allegiance.

There was no more help coming. Not from any corner of Princess Celestia’s multi-millennial empire.

The sheer magical power possessed by Canterlot royalty was second only to that contained within the Elements of Harmony themselves, but all of it had one important Achilles’ Heel - using Griffonstone and the labyrinthine mines under the land as bases of operation, a united front of griffins, minotaurs, and diamond dogs had found that weakness, and they had exploited it.

From land, air, and beneath the ground, the invaders struck as a single front. Individually they had never before posed a threat to Equestria. However, united under a strong leader, their sheer numbers and stubborn relentlessness begat two new waves of soldiers to replace every one that magic drove out with bloody dispatch. Fully underestimating their opponents, the princesses of sun and moon stood beside the elemental keepers and expended their reserves of strength repelling what they felt represented a commitment of the enemy’s entire force to the field. To their horror, the ground and sky together vomited forth myriad additional regiments that the enemy had wisely kept in reserve, to encircle and overwhelm a foe that lacked both in strength of numbers and arcane power.

Princess Celestia shuddered at how it had all played out. The enemy’s victory had been orchestrated by a commander that felt nothing of purposefully sacrificing hundreds of his own people, simply to wear his opponent down. It was the worst kind of military barbarism - flesh shields composed of doomed grunts that had likely been filled with patriotic words and sent on their impossible errand with the promise that reinforcements would sweep in to back them. Instead, their commander waited for them to die - waited for his enemy to assume the battle had been won.

The real attack was filthy, disgusting, and thoroughly successful.

Princess Celestia ran her hoof along the length of her horn, feeling there the rubberized, secured sheath that had locked away her powers. It was a crude prison, lacking the elegance of the repression rings that her own citizens sometimes made use of in playful pursuits. At first, she had simply been too shocked to remove it. Now, she kept it in place merely because walking around in public without it could possibly cost some of her citizens their lives.

In the sky, she spied a small chink in the crack of the gray armor above. She stood silently at her balcony window, tracing the crack with her eyes to confirm that it had indeed grown larger since the day before. Beyond the crack glowed the sun, and therein she found hope. She could not see the face of her heavenly body, but she knew it wore an expression as grim as her own.

Drowning in a sea of gray, The Sun Princess knew there was only one choice left. One way to save her citizens. For her, it would be a small price to pay. Like the sun, she would endure, come what may.

A creaking noise from a chamber door she had long neglected to have repaired caused Celestia’s ears to swivel. A familiar, expected voice quickly followed it.

“Your Highness...” The voice breathed. “...it’s time. A-are you ready?”

Celestia allowed herself the luxury of a wry smile. She bowed her head, letting out a breath without turning around. “I wonder when you started calling me that again. I once told you not to stand on ceremony for me anymore-” Celestia finally turned towards her companion, “-Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight looked tired. Thick bags of deep purple had collected under her eyes, and though it had been days, Celestia thought the young sovereign still looked drained from lack of power. Nopony had expended more of herself trying to save her country, but Twilight seemed reserved now. The fire of righteousness was gone from her eyes, and she was watching her hooves on the posh carpeting with her head slightly bowed. The position showed off her own rubberized sheath, identical to Celestia’s, that surrounded her horn and rendered her power inert.

“I’m not...” Twilight stammered, refusing to meet her mentor’s gaze, “...I’m not a princess anymore.”

Princess Celestia tilted her head slightly, the constant wave of her pastel mane inclining like poured water to follow the movement. “Is that what you think?”

Twilight scrunched her muzzle in confusion, curiosity alone finally bringing her eyes up to meet Celestia’s. “Y-yes?” She hesitated, “We...we’ve been conquered. I tried, I...I just couldn’t...”

Celestia knew that look. She’d seen it in her pupil’s eyes ever since she took her as a student, every time Twilight was at her wits end. Unwilling to allow it to persist, Celestia walked slowly over to Twilight, reached out a hoof, and caressed her cheek, bringing her muzzle up to bear. She only smiled, allowing her student to speak first.

“Oh, oh Princess Celestia,” Twilight sniffed, “I tried so hard, b-but it must not have been enough, because--”

Celestia’s hoof came to rest upon Twilight’s lips, silencing her. “You did everything you could. I have told you this before, my student, but nopony can do everything by themselves. You must not attempt to shoulder the weight of this burden alone. Your friends will be there for you, in good times and in bad.”

“B-but what if they aren’t!?” Twilight blurted. “What if they end up in a dirty gem mine, or worse?”

Celestia shook her head. “That won’t happen. You were present at the negotiation table. You took part in the peace talks.”

Twilight pulled away. A moment later their original positions were reversed - Twilight was now near the balcony, staring at the war-streaked sky whose smog had yet to dissipate. “I...I know. The griffins don’t like living in Griffinstone any more than the dogs like always being underground, or the minotaurs spread out all over the place with no land to call their own.”

“They don’t want to destroy us,” Celestia continued the thought patiently, “They don’t hate our society. They envy it. Their leaders are wise - they know better than to simply enslave us all and burn our resources. If they did that, they would not only have to go back to the lands they don’t want to live in, but they’d have nothing to show for their conquest. And they would have to deal with a caste of slave ponies who, at any time, could plot to overthrow them. They respect us enough to know that we could yet be a threat in that capacity.”

Twilight nodded through the explanation to show her understanding. “They agreed not to disrupt out society, so long as we met their demands.”

Twilight could hear the tufting bump of hooves on carpet as her mentor covered the distance to stand behind her. Celestia spoke-

“They could have destroyed us, Twilight. Instead they have chosen to commute that sentence. In return, we are to disband our military, strike our banners, and remove any sense of patriotism from our society. They will live among us, under a new royal bloodline of their choosing, and we shall become a nation as much of their races as our own.”

There was silence for a time, interrupted only by the persistent ticking of an ornate grandfather clock down the hall. Celestia waited for the words to sink in before adding to them.

“My student, after such a bloody battle, animosity alone could have caused them to slaughter us wholesale, right down to our most vulnerable and innocent citizens. Instead, they have chosen to insert themselves at the top of our society and reap its benefits, but not otherwise alter it. I have lived for thousands of years. I have seen empires rise and fall-” She placed her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder, “-and I can tell you from experience that this is perhaps the most generous unconditional surrender I have ever borne witness to. If we were destined to lose, we could not have asked for a better outcome.”

Twilight held her tongue and made a point of turning her scowl away from her mentor. They were noble words, and perhaps Celestia was better than she for being able to acquiesce to them so easily, but Twilight could not so easily forget those who did not survive the battle.

Celestia seemed to detect her student’s feelings, despite Twilight’s attempt to conceal them. The hoof upon the smaller pony’s shoulder began to stroke affectionately.

“I am not happy about all this, if that’s what you believe,” Celestia explained, “But if anypony is to shoulder the blame for failing this nation, it is I. Thus...” She looked away, pausing to gather her next words, “...what is soon to happen is a small burden to bear.”

Twilight turned from the endless gray. She drew in a deep breath, let it out, puffed out her chest, and managed to put on a reassuring smile.

“I know. That’s why I agreed to it too.” Twilight smirked, “You need to rely on help from your friends, as much as you taught me to.”

Celestia sighed wanly, appreciating her student's candor. She wanted to endure alone what was to come on behalf of all those she cared for, but the new emperor had insisted all royalty share in it. The rulers of Equestria, as much as any standard or banner, were living embodiments of now-anachronistic Equestrian patriotism. Thus, an example had to be made.

Celestia’s expression clouded over. “...what news of my sister?”

Twilight shook her head apologetically. “No change. Nopony’s seen her since she fought off the group that tried to put her suppressor on and took off out a window.”

“Nobody,” Celestia corrected her student. “Say nobody now. Do not forget what we agreed to.”

“...nobody,” Twilight repeated mirthlessly. “Do we really have to consider Princess Luna an outlaw now?”

Celestia closed her eyes and managed a stiff nod. “I’m afraid so. While it pains me to say it, my sister’s...temper can not be allowed to undo the fragile peace we have given birth to in the wake of so much destruction.”

A light, ghostly rapping on the already open door sent the conversation into remission. Therein, at the threshold, stood a young earth pony mare who was still clad in the gilded, satin finery of a hoofmaiden to royalty. She had soft eyeglasses on the tip of her muzzle, and her sage green coat was dusted at the cheeks with dark freckles that matched her lagoon-emerald mane.

“Y-your High-”

Celestia cut the hoofmaiden off with a simple shake of her head. The youngster looked between her former rulers, took a breath, and put a firm edge into her words, attempting them again as she matched Celestia’s gaze-

“It is time. You will come with me.” She said to Celestia, and then nodded at Twilight, “You have been summoned to your place. Go there now.”

Twilight gave no reproach to the common pony who had so rudely addressed her. She only nodded with resignation and did as she was told, moving towards the door. She turned and opened her mouth to speak, found no words there, and simply trotted out, her retreating hooves clacking down the hall in obedience.

Celestia had already cast aside her crown, her golden slippers, and the gleaming badge of office that had adorned her neck for so long. The hoofmaiden hesitated, looking upon the princess as though seeing her for the first time. Though only scant items had been removed, the undisturbed cotton softness of Celestia’s coat seemed almost embarrassing to look upon as she bore it to the room.

The hoofmaiden spied Celestia’s free flowing, proud mane, and simply shook her head. With a clucking of her tongue she stepped over to the princess, and, without asking, made use of hoof and brush to tame Celestia’s locks. Ultimately the maiden braided them into submission and draped the resultant long queue along Celestia’s withers, arranging it to fall neatly between her wing spurs and down her back. Celestia’s tail came next, the maiden binding it tightest at its base.

The process took time. While she waited, Celestia stared blankly at herself in the mirror. She expected the sullen paleness of her pallor, for she had slept little in the past several weeks. What she did not expect was the natural rose hue that had taken subtle hold of her cheeks, bringing a natural, feminine glow to them without the application of falsehoods like rouge.

Celestia tilted her head thoughtfully and considered the tall and willowy, yet otherwise rather plain pony that stood where her reflection had always been. As a ruler, she had never seen herself as anything but the primary servant of her country. She wondered if it was wrong of her, after all that had happened, to find some measure of contentment in knowing that she would serve her country yet again, albeit in a more obvious capacity.

“Eyes forward,” The young mare, who appeared out of the corner of Celestia’s eye, said flatly. Celestia appreciated the hoofmaiden’s ability to adapt to the ebb and flow of her job. Sucking in a deep breath, Celestia stood up straight, puffed out her snow-white chest, and brought her attention to bear solely upon her own reflection, until the depth of her exquisite eyes was broken up by the freckled visage of the hoofmaiden.

“Be still,” The hoofmaiden ordered in a voice that only slightly betrayed her own uncertainty. Celestia knew what was coming. She raised her chin, closed her eyes, and waited for a metallic clicking noise to ring out behind her neck. When she fluttered her lids back open, she chanced upon her new neck gear; an exquisite, magically-latching collar. The ornament was a testament to the new regime - set with garish gems produced from diamond dog mines, it was constructed of a deep black leather, tanned by the finest minotaur trappers, and accented by a color pattern that resembled griffin feathers. A single ring of solid gold hung from a riveted bracket where the collar touched her throat. To this the hoofmaiden quickly attached a long cord of similar black leather, the other end of which she looped over her foreleg.

The young hoofmaiden tugged on her former sovereign’s leash and nodded to the hallway. “Your master is waiting for you, Celestia,” The maiden said tersely, defaulting to the princess’s given name.

Celestia assumed it was the first time her former retainer had ever uttered her name without a respectful title attached. With her head appropriately bowed, the tall alicorn with the collar, leash, repression-sleeve, and tightly-bound mane stepped high, allowing her handler to keep the pace until she was led down the hall and through double doors to a great antechamber.

The large, round room was not as grandiose as the palace throne room or any of the receiving halls intended for visiting dignitaries, nor was it on the same elevation. This hall stood partway up a tall tower, and emptied out into a large balcony upon which Celestia had spent generations making public decrees to the populace, in good times and in bad. She had not been out there since the rousing, confident address she had given in anticipation of a final battle that nopony could ever have predicted.

She could hear their voices, even several yards away from the balcony. Outside she envisioned a veritable sea of uncertain ponies, mixed with dogs, griffons, and minotaurs - all well-armed by virtue of their physical characteristics alone. She saw only griffins in the sky outside, and knew it was due to the pegasus no-fly zone that had been set up temporarily around the city. The ‘enemy’ would keep a tight grip on the citizens of Equestria until they were lulled into capitulation by the words of their princess - the pony they trusted the most.

The weather was far too warm for a fire, and the hearth stood empty. Standing beside it, his back turned to the door, was the hulking presence of a broad-shouldered biped with war-scarred horns protruding from either side of his head. He wore a cape of crushed red velvet, lined with the stereotypical white fur of a ruler and complete with thick epaulets of gold mesh.

“L-Lord Kessen,” The small hoofmaiden squeaked, “I have brought your pet, as you commanded.”

The minotaur called Kessen said nothing. His arm came out, and in his meaty grip was a delicate glass filled with a plum-colored liquid. The glass was an appropriate size for most creatures of even Celestia’s height, but in his hand, it seemed comically small.

“Leave us,” The minotaur said in an even baritone.

The hoofmaiden’s eyes went between the two taller creatures. She curtsied, murmured words of appreciation to her ‘emperor’, and beat a quick retreat, shutting the doors and leaving Celestia alone in a situation that her personal guards would have once thought untenable. She stood alone, without her regalia, in a locked chamber with a behemoth of a being that could snap even her neck like a twig, were magical defenses not a factor.

And they weren’t.

Kessen’s fist moved; the plum liquid in it swirled, creating a sanguine film along the inner edges of the glass.

“This vintage is over a thousand years old,” Kessen rumbled. “It predates the lives of every pony, griffin, minotaur, and dog in the world, save for you and your sister.” He brought the glass to his lips and savored another drag of the wine within, “I suspect you will taste no less sweet.”

Celestia kept her attention upon the crimson receiving rug under her hooves. “Y-yes...my emperor.”

Kessen turned, revealing a disapproving frown beneath his blunt snout. He was bare of chest in the manner of his people, save for the cord of gold around his gunmetal-blue throat that connected to his epaulets. The only allegiance to a military order he wore was a pair of black slacks, that dusted his cloven hooves and ran red with a single stripe down each leg. Upon his head, encircling the wizened hint of gray in otherwise jet black locks, stood a tiara that was once Celestia’s, but had since been altered into a jagged, heavy crown.

“Your ponies will call me that,” He warned. “It is not for you.”

Celestia felt one of her knees bend. She inclined her body, kept her eyes averted, and sought to fill the new, unfamiliar role she had been assigned.

“...yes, Master.”

Kessen polished off his drink and set the glass farther up on the hearth than any pony could hope to reach without magic or a stool. “My men finished off the rest of it,” He explained without being asked. “Do you understand?”

Celestia nodded. “Fine wine vintages are a sign of national pride, Master.”

Kessen nodded. His hooves moved, and soon he loomed before his pet, glaring over her head and down at her wings. “Correct. But you are also a sign of national pride-” He placed a finger under Celestia’s chin and pushed, forcing her to raise her face to his, “-you, your sister, and the third princess that lives within your borders. I will have your standards, your traditions, and your ancient vintages destroyed. Do you understand why I do not do the same to you?”

Celestia, despite her millennia of wisdom from a position of power, felt her throat inadvertently close as she locked with Kessen’s eyes. “Y-you would be creating a martyr then, Master. It is better to live among those you have conquered, and reap the benefits of their society. It is...” Celestia had to admit, “...a wise way to conquest.”

Kessen let go of Celestia’s chin and raised a brow thoughtfully. “Then I shall expect your fealty and obedience, as you encourage your people to accept the new way of things. You may not believe it because of my methods of waging war, but I do not condone violence without purpose.” He took a breath, turned to pace about the room, and went on, “Uniting our peoples to share in the wealth of culture yours have kept greedily to yourselves, thus promoting universal prosperity, is reason enough to send brave warriors to their deaths.” He fixed her with his withering gaze, “Serve me. Obey me, and encourage those you once ruled to follow your example. In return, there will be no more killing.”

Celestia appreciated her new master’s unique sense of eloquence. The way he put it, the entire affair seemed as though it had been truly beneficial to all involved. She gave her regards without looking him directly in the eye.

“Yes, Master.”

Kessen paused to glance at the balcony. He snapped his fingers, waited for his charge to trot to his side, and placed a hand roughly atop her head, scratching her between the ears like a cat.

“Your sister is an enemy of the people. She took wing during her escape, and thus the griffin command was dispatched after her. She will be theirs, while your former student will be the property of the diamond dog king. The leaders of both nations have sworn themselves as my vassals. In this way shall our new nation take shape. You will adhere to your role in it, as the personal property of myself and my descendants.”

Kessen’s hand slipped down to caress Celestia’s rear. The princess was momentarily startled - she had little experience with how to respond to such a touch from a stranger. Fortunately her tail had been bound tightly in the manner of whores, allowing him to easily slip his fingers beneath it.

“My descendants,” He repeated, “Some of which, you will whelp. Think of it as maintaining your own dynasty, even after it has been deposed.” His fingers began to stroke a place under Celestia’s tail that no common pony had ever seen. “You will produce progeny, and they will all be touched by my seed and influence.”

Celestia looked down at her leash, which was still dangling free. Kessen patted her rump, urging her forward like cattle until she stepped out upon the balcony to make her address.

The scene was as she expected. As voices quieted en masse, Celestia took note that two-thirds of the faces that turned to her were not those of ponies at all. Kessen had thought to soften the blow by not placing armed guards among the crowd - instead, they stood at the gates, battlements, and other key positions throughout as much of Canterlot as Celestia could see. They were a reminder; one that the princess hoped would not be necessary in due time.

The equine faces that turned to meet Celestia’s ran the gamut of expressions. Some looked angry. Others were hurt or frightened, while many others simply looked confused and in need of her support. As she scanned them, she thought to hasten her words. Integration was their best hope for survival now, and she feared what the result might be if the crowd had a chance to become unruly. She felt the patient shadow of Kessen looming behind her like a gathering storm as she spoke-

“Citizens of Equestria,” Celestia began, her voice amplified by the magic of a unicorn retainer who stood under guard on a nearby outcropping, “I address you this day to allay the concerns you no doubt have for your spouses, your homes, your fillies, and your colts. Some of you may be confused. Some of you may be frightened, or encouraged to show animosity towards our new fellow citizens,” She spoke, “But you need not be. We, the princesses of Equestria, have reached an accord with our counterparts, and I am pleased to share with you the dawning of a new, enriching day for us all.”

She paused, watching as confused faces turn towards a dog or griffin, lips mouthing the phrase ‘fellow citizens’ questioningly. Eyes turned back to Celestia, and she continued-

“On the morrow, there shall be a celebration. A celebration of welcoming, in which myself and several key members of our society shall trot among you in the streets, in positions of deference and appreciation to those who have brought our many peoples together.”

Right on cue, Emperor Kessen stepped onto the balcony. A muted gasp rose and fell like a rolling wave through the audience. Celestia ignored the reaction and went on-

“Under the emperor of our new united nations, we shall usher in a new era of peace for minotaur, griffin, dog, and pony alike. I realize that it is difficult to take such a great leap of faith in the wake of so much loss, but I encourage you to accept the new order of society. To allow our friends into your businesses, homes, thoughts, and to share with them all the fellowship that I know exists within you, having been your ruler for so long. With Emperor Kessen to guide us, we will look not to the transgressions of the past, but boldly forward, to a new day. Allow me to take the first step-”

With that, Celestia yielded the center of the balcony to Kessen. Standing beside and beneath him, she took her dangling leash in her mouth, sat on her haunches, and looked up at him in a begging posture, offering the leash up until he threaded his fist through the loop for the very first time. He yanked upon it firmly, returning her to her hooves.

“With this act of falling and rising again,” Kessen bellowed, the amplification spell moving to his voice now, “My pet, Celestia, shows you her place, and provides to you an example of proper peace through deference. As your new ruler, each of you have my word that obedience will be rewarded. You may retain your property and go about your lives, save for political and military positions, which will be held solely by your new neighbors until out societies are properly integrated. Those of you who hold an unbalanced amount of wealth will be dealt with on an individual, fair basis.”

Kessen yanked on Celestia’s leash again. She jerked towards him, but as he caressed her cheek and drew her into a public kiss, she accepted it, and placed a hoof on his chest to further show her deference. When the kiss broke, he kept her near, scratching her again as he might a non-sentient creature.

“Go,” He commanded. “Return to your homes and look forward to tomorrow’s celebration of unity. I expect you all to be in attendance.”

Celestia knew it was the last time she would ever feel the tickle of a voice-amplification spell. Her voice was no longer worthy of being heard, and with his hand on her leash, she would sit quietly, speaking only when prompted to, as she focused on being a spectacle of beautiful property for her emperor.

Celestia, once a princess, retreated into the stone chamber, the sensation of the carpet foreign upon her bare hooves. Tomorrow, she would show them all how to make peace.