Serving His Empress

~Or~

How Shining Armor Avoided a Crushed Pelvis by the Empress Daybreaker

Part the Sixth

Shining groaned, shaking his head and feeling his helmet rub against his skull. “Ow, that fucking hurt,” he complained, taking a moment to enjoy the lack of pain he was feeling. “Sweet Faust, you healers are doing a phenomenal job with the pain killers.” He paused for a reply, and yet, much to his surprise, he heard nothing. In fact, he wasn’t hearing any sound at all, save the slow hush of a breeze.

He opened his eyes, looking up at the dreary grey sky before shakily getting up on his hooves. “Okay, this isn’t fun...ny…” The unicorn stared at the view around him, bewildered. The world around him seemed blurry and faded, a wash of grey hanging over everything in sight. Ponies and griffons still fought, but it was at a glacial pace, if at all. “What the…?”

“Hello, young one.”

Shining turned in place, looking for whoever had spoken. Those three words would have been a relief to hear normally, but… the way they were said, the pacing of them was wrong. There were stresses on syllables that shouldn’t have been stressed, as if whoever had spoken had never spoken Common Ponish before, or had only read about it, and practiced only with themselves before speaking with others. And in a split second, Shining gasped in shock. Before him stood a pony. At least, he was pretty sure that it was a pony. Yet the tattered cloak around them didn’t hide the gaunt frame of the equine, nor the sickly pale, off-white fur of their coat, like freshly burnt ash. Shining’s eyes met with the strange pony’s, and his body shivered, as if suddenly splashed with ice water.

“Who… who are you?” Shining asked, taking a step back reflexively. The pony chuckled, taking a slow, deliberate step towards him. “Where am I?”

“You are in the world in between,” the pony responded. “Though I think you already know that, don’t you?” Shining gulped, looking around once more. In the moments since he had talked, the scenery hadn’t even changed, the world still washed out.

“So… I really am dead, aren’t I?” Shining asked, looking back at the pony who nodded. “Then… you’re…” Shining gulped, trying to settle his nerves. “...you’re the Pale Horse?”

“I am.”

Those two words shook Shining to the core as the Pale Horse continued, “The Pale Horse, Death, Mort… I have many names, across many ages. I am the shadow of creation, and yet, its guardian. Beyond the scope of eternity, one can say.” The Pale Horse approached Shining, giving him an uncanny simile of a smile. “You, young Armor, are an odd one.”

Shining looked the Pale Horse up and down, a disbelieving expression on his face. “...respectfully, I am talking with Death, and you’re saying I’m the odd one,” Shining pointed out. The Pale Horse looked at him, and for a moment, Shining was afraid for his soul before the spectral being chuckled, sending shivers up his spine.

“There is nothing ‘odd’ about death, young Armor,” the Pale Horse commented before helping Shining out of the crater. “It comes to all every day, upon all corners of every realm that knows of me. Now, come. I have not had company such as yours for… well, it would be rude to speak ill of those under my care, such as they are at times.” Shining nodded slowly, watching as the Pale Horse began to walk away to another pony close by.

“So… how… what exactly killed me?” Shining asked, following the Pale Horse. The Pale Horse looked at the pony, her chest pierced by a stray bowgun shell.

“You are about to die from blood loss, mostly. There was some shock, but on the whole, your death is currently painless.” The Pale Horse gave him a small smile as it looked over its shoulder. “Were you a child of Gryphus, they would have called it a good death. Slain in battle, facing a superior foe, slaying them before you yourself expire… poetic, in a sense.”

“It was stupid,” Shining retorted. “I acted like an idiot and got myself killed trying to save Tempest. Honestly, I should have just focused on the objective.” Shining huffed, and froze as the Pale Horse turned and gave him a disapproving look.

“You made the tactically irresponsible decision, yes,” the entity agreed. “But Creation as witness, you made the morally right choice. I shall not have the most interesting mortal I’ve met these last long eons become that which has… soured, this particular reality.” Shining blinked, confused.

“Soured? Reality? What are you… I am confused. Umm, Sir.” The stallion looked over the Pale Horse, the entity’s baleful glare melting into amusement as Shining asked his next question hesitantly. “Actually… what form of address do you prefer?”

“Oh little Shining Armor,” the Pale Horse told him, beckoning him to follow. Before Shining’s eyes, the Pale Horse waved a hoof, a rectangular doorway of light appearing before them. “As I have said. I have many titles, and many names. All of which are true.”

“Because you are… well, Death?”

“Quite,” the Pale Horse agreed. “Now, come. I have not had company these many eons, and while I know your tale and how it ends, it is rare that I can… hear it from the horse’s mouth, to borrow a phrase.” Shining looked at the entryway, and then back at the Pale Horse.

“I… I would be honored, I guess,” he said finally, stepping over to the portal. “Umm… I suppose asking about my death would be out of the question?” The Pale Horse gave Shining a genuine smile as it walked beside Shining.

“The answer is simple, young Armor. You shall have nothing to fear from me.” Shining felt a weight lift from his chest, one that he didn’t even know he had. “Now, to better topics. Please, step inside, and I shall listen to your most interesting tale.” Shining chuckled, stepping through the portal with the Pale Horse.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I always thought my life was pretty average in the grand scheme of things…”

“HEALER! I NEED A HEALER!”

Tempest was doing her best to stop the flow of blood from Shining’s chest, the stallion’s body already chilled to the touch. All around her, the battle continued to go on, though thankfully, with the griffon Jarl dead, the remaining griffons were quickly losing morale and breaking ranks. None of which was at the forefront of her mind as a harried looking healer slid into the crater with her, eyes going wide in horror. “Please! We need to stabilize the Centurion!” Tempest said, looking at the healer with a desperate expression. “He’s already getting cold!”

“How much blood has he lost?” the healer almost shouted, her horn lighting up and pulling out dozens of yards of gauze before shoving them all onto Shining. In moments, the fabric was stained crimson, the healer’s horn glowing brighter as she pulled out potions.

“I… I don’t know!” Tempest admitted, shaking her head. “A lot, that’s all I know!”

“Fuck!” The healer looked at Tempest, then grunted. “Since your horn is about as useful as a strainer in the ocean, get your hooves on this, keep applying pressure! I need to get the sanguinary potions! Anything to keep him from fully bleeding out!” Tempest nodded, putting her hooves on the gauze and putting pressure on Shining’s wounds.

Just keep it together, Tempest thought, the healer moving beside her to shove blood potions down Shining’s throat. It’s not the first time you’ve seen ponies die. Tartarus, it’s not even going to be the last. So why am I scared about this one dying?

A griffon landed nearby, flapping their wings to try and get away before a dirt and blood covered Blueberry Frost galloped by, stabbing the hen in the chest with her lance before stopping by Tempest and the healer. “Oh Empress!” Frost said, looking at the sight below her before looking back at the ruined outpost. “You there! Yes, you!” A pegasus dropped to the ground, her chest heaving in exertion. “Get back to the camp, tell the healers there that we need immediate treatment for Centurion Armor! Every healing potion under the Empress’ suns, now!”

“Yes Master Sergeant!” the pegasus exclaimed, jumping back into the air and flying off as fast as she could. Frost looked back at Tempest, her expression grave.

“What the fuck happened, Assassin?” Even with the din of the dying, the question cut through Tempest like ice, Frost’s eyes boring into her soul as Tempest reached over to the healer’s bag and grabbed another wad of gauze.

“He… He took… Empress, it’s all my…,” Tempest stammered, her breathing quickening as Shining’s blood flow began to lessen. “Healer! We need to put him in a stasis spell, or freeze him, just… just please, do anything you can think of to keep him alive just a bit longer!” she begged.

Frost dropped into the crater next to her, horn lighting up and pressing down on the gauze. “Assassin… Shadow, we need to at least stabilize him enough to move out of this crater!” the mare said. “We can’t walk him back, that’ll take too long, and I don’t think any unicorn here has the skill to pull off a stasis spell for long. Teleportation is possible, but those healers capable of it are back in camp, and need to know where they’re jumping to.”

Tempest grimaced at Frost’s words. She looked back at Shining’s body, could see that he was barely even breathing. “That… that isn’t entirely true,” Tempest said, calling upon her magic, her stub already throbbing in pain as the mana pooled up. Frost looked at her, or, more accurately, the electric green sparks coming from the other unicorn’s horn stub. “I can’t… I can’t cast magic. Not like you can, but the Empress made sure that I knew the basic theories of common spellcraft.”

Frost put a hoof on Tempest’s shoulder, suddenly alarmed. “Are you crazy?! That would kill you AND Shining both! You could go miles off course, meld with rock, pop up halfway through a wall, you just, I mean-!”

“I know where the camp is, and I know the cost,” Tempest cut in. By now, the pain in her horn was as if she had a white hot poker shoved into her brain, but still, she kept the spell in mind, reaching over and grabbing Shining. “We can’t wait. Empress would… do something much worse if her new favorite died because we didn’t save him.” Tempest grit her teeth in pain as she pictured the healer’s pavilion, bringing up the spell matrix in her mind. The mana strain was about to break, she was in agony, worse than the Ursa, and then…

Tempest howled, releasing the magic and with a flash of emerald light, she, Shining, Frost, and the other healer vanished, only to reappear in the pavilion, surprising dozens of healers. Tempest looked over her shoulder at them, her body swaying unsteadily until she caught sight of a horrified Mahiri. “Shining… help… him…,” she managed to get out before falling to her side, mana exhaustion hitting her hard as a platoon of healers rushed to their side, levitating Shining away and towards a proper emergency care tent. Mahiri rushed over to Tempest, the zebra pulling Tempest to her hooves as the former rapidly spoke in her native tongue in panic.

“Can’t… can’t underst… tired…” Tempest murmured, her vision swimming with black spots before the urge to close her eyes became too great. And then, with zero grace, the assassin passed out.

Shining suddenly clutched his chest, gasping as the tea in his hoof nearly fell to the floor. The Pale Horse watched, a serene expression on their face as Shining recomposed himself. “Surely, the tea is not entirely disagreeable,” the Pale Horse commented with an approximation of a wry smile. The pair were inside of a small cafe of sorts, the realm still greyed out in a timeless, misty limbo as Shining regaled Death with stories of his life.

“No, sorry, it’s just that I umm…” Shining grunted in pain as something coursed through him, his magic pulsating erratically. “Fuck! What in Tartarus is-?”

“Your healers,” the Pale Horse told him, rising from its seat and beckoning for Shining to follow. “They are trying to save you.” Shining groaned, getting up and following the spectre as it created yet another portal, the two going through it.

“But… I’m dead, aren’t I?”

The Pale Horse chuckled. “You are mostly dead,” it explained. “There is a difference between true death, and only mostly dead. When one is only mostly dead, there is still a chance to bring you back, however slim and scant. And at truly dead, the only thing left to do is look for pocket change, one supposes,” the Pale Horse said, cracking a smile. Shining looked at it, face scrunched up in thought before laughing.

“Okay, that’s actually kind of funny,” the stallion quipped, just as he looked around and saw himself at his company’s base camp. “Wait, this is the camp. Why… where?”

Another lance of pain shot through his chest, bringing Shining to the ground as the Pale Horse stood over him. “You will live, young Armor,” the entity said, Shining writhing on the ground before the Pale Horse reached for him and touched his shoulder. Instantly, the stallion was calmed, Shining looking into the Pale Horse’s eyes. “Live, and have no fear of me.”

Shining looked at the Pale Horse, and nodded. He felt heat bloom in his chest, blood stirring in his veins as the Pale Horse let go of him. “Will I remember any of this? When I wake up?”

“No. But in the twilight of dusk and dawn, between the bliss of sleep, and the cruelty of waking… perhaps.”

Shining nodded, closing his eyes as the heat within bloomed…

...and the tent his body was in nearly exploded, the healers covering their faces as from inside Shining’s sundered armor, the phoenix feather the Empress gave him ignited. The assembled healers watched, Mahiri and Frost in particular watching in awe as the most critical of Shining’s wounds closed up, tongues of fire racing along his body, repairing the damage before the stallion’s body fell back onto the bed, Shining gasping for breath with wide panicked eyes.

“Quick, restrain him!” the head nurse shouted as Shining’s limbs flailed, nurse ponies dog-piling onto him as a nurse rushed over, casting a calming spell as another held his mouth open long enough to shove a blue potion down his throat.

“What just… was that?” Frost asked, bewildered and in awe as Mahiri slumped against her.

“A feather from the huma,” Mahiri muttered. “You call it a phoenix, but…”

“Those birds haven’t been seen in the Empire for nearly six hundred years, the only things left are the feathers,” Frost confirmed, still in awe as the healers rushed to stabilize Shining. “Tartarus, I didn’t even know he had a feather on him! Empress keeps those things reserved for her generals and trusted advisors!” Mahiri scoffed, rolling her eyes as the two mares were soon forced out of the tent.

“Well, it is our dear Shining,” the zebra pointed out. “If anyone could fuck a feather out of the Empress, it would be him.” Frost chuckled, shaking her head until they came upon an occupied cot. There, laid out comatose, was Tempest Shadow. If not for the shallow rise and fall of her barrel, most passing ponies would have assumed her dead. “...and she teleported you here? With a broken horn?”

“Yeah.” Frost looked at the plum colored mare and gave her a respectful nod. “I’ve met mages in Canterlot with working horns who couldn’t pull what she did off. It’s a miracle she isn’t dead, but… Empress willing, she and the Centurion can both talk about this to the Empress in pony.” Mahiri went to Tempest’s side and patted her on the shoulder.

“Kaa na nguvu, dhoruba nzuri,” Mahiri told Tempest before looking back at Frost. “We should get the camp ready for the others. Wounded, prisoners… the dead.”

“Of course.” Frost headed out, catching sight of the first few squads of soldiers, griffin prisoners in tow. “Empress knows we’re going to have our hooves full…”

Tempest woke up, and immediately wished that she hadn’t as her stump throbbed furiously, her body drained of energy. Groaning, the mare looked around and saw that she was in the common healer’s tent, cot upon cot next to her with injured ponies and griffons laying on top of them in various stages of care. “Fuck,” Tempest hissed, sitting up and regretting it, feeling nauseous. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a healer trotting over to her, a quill and parchment held up by their magic as they came to her side.

“Lady Tempest! You’re awake! That’s good, you were touch and go yourself for quite some time,” the healer said, scribbling notes as Tempest groaned.

“‘Touch and go’? Touch and go how?” The healer looked at Tempest, bewildered.

“Lady Shadow… you almost died from burning out your magical core,” she explained. “Every unicorn knows this, how could-?” Tempest gave her a look that could chill a dragon’s blood, the healer soon shutting up and revising her statement. “...w-w-what I mean is… the teleportation spell you used brought not only you, but Healer Stout Heart, Sergeant Frost, and the Centurion here to camp. It is ordinarily a spell only used by master mages from the College, and often only after a lifetime of training. You umm…”

“So, I should be dead then, is that what you’re trying to get at?” Tempest asked dryly, coughing into the crook of her foreleg. The healer nodded, procuring a glass of water and giving it to Tempest. The assassin looked at the glass, then at the healer, and sighed, taking a drink from it and leaving the healer to cower in silence. “...the Centurion?”

“Alive, thankfully.”

Tempest let out a sigh of relief. That’s one disaster averted, she thought, right as the healer continued. “Of course, the Centurion lost a lot of blood, and many of his vital organs had been damaged when you brought him in. We don’t know how he acquired a phoenix feather, but it did repair the worst of the damage enough so that we could take over and-”

“He had a Faust-damned phoenix feather?!” Tempest hissed, reaching over and grabbing the healer, dragging her in close. “How in the seven rings of Tartarus did he get a damned phoenix feather?! That daft, selfless dumbass couldn’t have earned a feather this early in his career unless…” And just as suddenly, the flames of Tempest’s ire faded as she realized just how he got the feather in question.

...she never told me… I never knew he…

Taking a deep breath as she let the healer go, Tempest let out her frustrations with a slow exhale. “Is the Centurion safe?” she asked. “And may I see him?”

“Well…” The healer looked at Tempest, the mare giving the healer a flat glare of disapproval. “I… the zebra moved him to his personal tent, it’s umm… it’s uh…”

“I’ll find it.” Tempest slowly got up off the cot, trotting to the exit as the healer continued.

“He hasn’t woken up, not since we sedated him after he umm… set fire to the ward with his feather.”

“Not a problem. He’s far more bearable when he’s shut up,” Tempest deadpanned as she finally exited the tent and stepped outside. She then groaned as the healer exited, standing next to her.

“Ma’am, you really should be resting,” the healer said. “You burnt out your core, and you’ve been injured, and-”

“If you do not stop talking, I will see you in my cot, with your head up your ass,” Tempest cut in coldly. “Now, leave me be.” The healer cowered from Tempest as the latter started to walk through the camp, a slight limp in her step. Damn, I do need rest… but not until I see the Centurion alive myself. Navigating through the maze of tents, she soon found Shining’s tent, its entrance guarded by Sergeant Frost and another pony. Frost caught sight of her as she approached, the earth pony giving her a once over.

“...ye look like shit.”

For once, Tempest laughed, grimacing as she felt something constrict in her chest. “You should see the other guy,” she retorted, Frost giving her a grim smirk. Tempest’s expression fell as she stood up straight. “The Centurion… has he woken up?” Frost shook her head.

“Nope. He’s been out cold since the feather healed him. That, and the docs shoved enough calmin’ droughts down his throat to knock out a minotaur I reckon ‘bout five, six times over.” Tempest blinked, stunned.

“That… that would kill even the hardiest earth pony out there,” Tempest noted. Frost nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, but whatever it was, if the Pale Horse was comin’ for him, then the Centurion put up a damn good whoopin’,” Frost remarked. Tempest nodded, then glanced at the tent flaps. Frost nodded, stepping aside and letting her through. The assassin stepped inside, noting that the inside of the tent seemed… bare. Not that she had any reason to complain about it herself, but from what she knew of the stallion, and of the zebra, it was… unsettling.

In the back, Shining’s cot was set up, the stallion tucked under a few sheets and asleep, his chest rising and falling. Looking around, Tempest didn’t see Mahiri anywhere nearby him, and slowly made her way closer to the officer. With each step she took, Tempest saw just how bad his situation really was. His body was thin, sunken in a bit, his fur lacking its usual luster. Stepping up to the bed, Tempest hesitantly reached out for the covers, stopping at the last moment.

“Oh come on Tempest, it’s just a body,” she said to herself. “You’ve seen worse.” With that brief inspirational pep talk, Tempest drew the sheets back and hissed, flinching at the sight below her. All across his chest, wicked, angry slashes of red scar tissue went across his barrel, a stab wound just above where his heart would have been. Tempest leaned over, grimacing as she saw a new scar just behind his left shoulder.

“Oh merciful Harmony… you dumb bastard, you should have just… you should have let me die,” she told him quietly, pulling the sheets back over him. “The mission couldn’t possibly be worth saving me. Oh Empress, if you don’t wake up, it’s my ass the Empress is going to incinerate, so please, wake the fuck up.”

No response from the still unconscious unicorn.

Tempest sighed, pulling up a seat next to the bed and settling down next to him. “You, Shining Armor, are the single most frustrating fucking bastard I’ve ever met,” she told him. “You fuck your way into the Empress’ good graces, you act like a complete political moron, and… and for Faust’s sake, you’re too fucking nice! Guard reform, slave and servant protections? All because you have a zebra mare who is…” Tempest paused, groaning as she hid her face in her hooves. “...admittedly a far more competent pony than I assumed. Don’t ever tell her that. Actually, forget I ever said that.”

“And that’s the other thing. Ever since I met you, I’ve… I’ve felt different.” Tempest huffed, shaking her head. “The first time I saw you, it was after you laid with the Empress the first time. You were confused, just… going with what she demanded of you. No bargains, no pleas. Just… duty. Then you come back from the Savannah, and… you manage to get the Empress to listen to you. All by being a… a nice pony. No one is just a nice person, it’s just… it just doesn’t happen and yet, you… yet you…” Tempest groaned, letting her head rest on top of her forelimbs as she laid them up on the bed. “It just doesn’t make sense that some stallion from a minor nobility would be so fucking nice to people. Nice, respectful, and… Faust, willing to save me.”

Tempest huffed, glancing at his face. “Just… look, I’m an assassin. Faust, I’m the fucking ‘Empress’ Shadow’. That’s not a name folks just throw around, and it’s certainly not a pony that people go after to save. And you, you dumb, handsome, and well hung dumbass, had to go and nearly die saving me. For Tartarus sake, there are better ways to die you know! Like, I don’t know, getting your pelvis crushed by the Empress as she rides you! Which you SOMEHOW fucking survived! You dumb fuck, I was partially sent out here to make sure that you DIDN’T do something stupid, like dying, and yet you did it anyway, by saving me! Me, the fucking assassin!” By this point, tears were running down Tempest’s face as she shook, holding back the urge to hit something, anything at all.

“So please, just… just wake up. Wake up, go back to Canterlot and retire, be the Empress’ consort for a few years,” Tempest pleaded. “Just… I… I don’t want you to die. Please?”

There was silence in the tent as Tempest stewed, her head resting on top of Shining for who knew how long. Her eyes had only just gotten closed when a rustle of cloth got her attention, as well as some pony’s hoof on her shoulder.

“You know…” Tempest jerked up, looking at Shining as he looked at her with a half-lidded eye, his voice hoarse, “There are easier ways to say ‘Hey, would you like to go on a date after work sometime,’ you know that, right?”

Tempest felt her gut sink in abject horror. “Fuck, umm… how much of that did you hear?” she asked. Shining chuckled, grimacing in pain.

“Not much. I was kinda still half asleep when you started talking, but… I almost did laugh when you got to how I avoided a crushed pelvis by the Empress,” he answered. “Definitely heard everything after that.” Tempest made to leave, only for Shining to hold onto her. “Hey, I’m not mad. Please, stay?”

“Why? Because of me, you almost died.”

“Tempest, I’m a soldier. It’s an occupational hazard,” he pointed out. “And… look, everyone dies. Empress excepting, of course, but still.” Tempest saw him smile, eyes closed as he nodded. “If I had to go through that battle again, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

“But… but why? I’m just an assassin that the-,” Tempest tried to say before Shining huffed.

“I saved you because I care about you,” he told her. “Same way I care about anypony else. Maybe even a bit more, because I know that the Empress cares about you.” She blinked as he continued, “Because yeah, I do remember the first time I saw you. I saw a stunningly beautiful mare, who didn’t give a damn about her lack of a horn, and if that mare could just walk into the Empress’ bedchambers without getting blasted, then that meant she was special. So stop thinking that I will only ever think of you as ‘Tempest the Assassin’ when I first met, and want to know, Tempest the Pony, who is an incredibly badass bitch that can fuck up a griffin Jarl. Okay?”

Tempest was struck silent by his words, gaping at him in disbelief as Shining watched her reaction. She just… this had never happened to her before. Sure, she’d had her fair share of… affairs, but nothing meaningful! All she had needed since foalhood was the Empress, and yet, this stallion was… was…

Without warning, Tempest lunged forward, wrapping her limbs around Shining in a great big hug. “Oh gods dammit all, don’t you ever change then you stupid, naive, noble bastard!” Tempest begged with a whisper.

“...empes… oo iiight!”

“Hmm?” Tempest asked with a grunt.

Shining hissed, grimacing in pain. “Too… tight! Air! Paaaiiiiiin!” Tempest blinked, then realized just what he was saying as she let go of him. Shining gasped for air, coughing weakly as Tempest stood by his side, a tide of embarrassment rising inside of her.

“Oh no, Centurion, I’m so, I didn’t mean to-!” Tempest struggled to apologize as Shining waved it off weakly.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he sputtered. “I’m glad to be alive, and I’m glad you’re okay! Empress, I need a breather…” The mare nodded, letting him rest for a bit before clearing her throat.

“Well, still, I shouldn’t have… it wasn’t…” Tempest cleared her throat, sitting up straight with as much dignity as she could muster. “My behavior wasn’t proper, Centurion Armor. Forgive me the breach in protocol.” Shining scoffed, rolling his eyes at her.

“You can call me Shining, you know,” he said. “You’ve earned it, saving my flank from death and all that.” Tempest quirked a scarred eyebrow at him.

“Are… are you certain?” Shining nodded. Tempest nodded, a soft, timid smile on her own face. “Then… I offer the same courtesy. You can call me Tempest.” Shining nodded once more, sighing and leaning back in his bed. “I would… I suppose under normal circumstances, I would leave you to rest under care of your sergeant and her fellow guard. However, I am paranoid, and thus will stay here to ensure you do not get assassinated while you sleep.”

“Spare cot in the corner,” Shining pointed out, waving a hoof to what would be his field desk. “Mahiri insisted after I fell asleep sitting at the desk too many times.” Tempest grunted, walking over and pulling the cot out. Quietly, she set it up close to Shining’s bed, making sure to keep one eye on the entrance as she got comfortable. “Rest easy Tempest. Empress knows you’ve earned it,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I’ll rest easy when I’m dead,” she grumbled. Shining snorted in amusement.

“Been there, done that. Was kind of boring.”

Tempest chuckled at the grim joke, her eyelids suddenly heavy as exhaustion set in. “Well… rest well yourself Shining,” she said before yawning. In moments, both stallion and mare were asleep, while by the tent flap, Blueberry Frost and the other mare peeked in.

Pulling away, the other mare took her helmet off to reveal Mahiri, the zebra muttering in her native tongue as Frost chuckled. “I mean… I’mma be honest, didn’t expect any o’ that,” the sergeant commented as she dug into her saddle bag and pulled out a few coins. “How did you?”

“I know my love well, and the kinds of mares he seems to attract,” Mahiri retorted, holding out her hoof for Frost to drop the coins on. “If he can manage to woo myself and the Empress, then the Shadow would be a pleasant walk in comparison.” Counting out the coins, Mahiri tucked them away before looking at Frost. “What about you? You knew him before I met you, did you not?”

“Only by a couple of days. Then that shit at the fort happened, and you know the rest,” Frost answered. “Why do you ask?”

Mahiri peeked back into the tent, and then glanced at her companion. “...and you’ve never been curious?” Frost blinked, taking a moment to process what Mahiri was implying before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Well, yes, I mean, he is a catch of a stallion, I’ll give ‘im that,” she said, much to the zebra’s pleased expression. “But he and I are… well, it’s easier for us both if we don’ go foolin’ ‘round none. I sure don’ want to make things odd between us while on duty.”

“So… you’re just looking for the right one then?”

Frost nodded, shrugging. “That, and I ain’ lookin’ to get between you, Miss Shadow there, or Harmony forbid, the Empress herself and him. He and I both deserve the best for each other, and I ain’ that for him.” She chuckled, looking over at Mahiri with a mischievous smirk. “Still won’t stop me from thinkin’ ‘bout it from time to time for my own pleasure of course, if you don’t object none?”

Mahiri gave her a look. “I share him with the Empress.”

“...fair point.” The pair looked back over the camp, watching as ponies moved about their business, standing guard in silent vigil.

Nearly a week had passed since the battle, and Shining was only just cleared for desk work by the healers, and the first time he’d been allowed to get out of bed at all. Granted, he was still in his tent, but now that he could finally get something done, he was all too eager to work. “Alright, Frost, how many did we lose?” he asked her, going over reports as Frost and Tempest stood in front of him.

“Thirty-five dead, ‘nother twenty or so still getting patched up,” Frost answered. “Support staff that Miss Shadow brought along lost half their number, but the toll could’ve been worse without your shields up.” Shining nodded as he looked at Tempest, who stepped forward.

“Per your orders, and from digging around more, we recovered another five pony hostages from within the keep itself,” Tempest said. “We found the bodies of seven more buried in the dungeons.”

“I see. And the griffons?”

“Lot of ‘em are scared bundles of fur and feathers, barely past foalhood really,” Frost explained. “Think this was the first time any of them ever saw battle. Jarl of theirs must’ve been pretty persuasive to get them to come here.” Tempest huffed.

“It was a Jarl. As far as the griffons are concerned, that’s just a step down from a direct order from a king, not that they have one. The entire royal line was presumed killed off about thirty years ago,” Tempest explained. “The old keep of Boreas in Griffonstone was set ablaze, killed Godric Boreas and his mate for sure. Of course, stories say they had a hatchling, but again, the whole place went up in smoke, and no one can say for sure.”

Shining scoffed. “Are you kidding? With our luck, the griffon is probably alive, well, planning our demise or quite possibly making a dynasty of bastards the size of our Empress’ considerable throne,” he commented, making Frost laugh and Tempest chortle in amusement. “Hard to say at the moment. Still, that is a problem for down the road. How capable are we of being able to restore the outpost?”

“Well, we-”

Before Frost could continue, the trio heard yelling from outside the tent before a pony barged in, followed by a pair of harried guardsmares. “I’m sorry, who are you?” Shining asked, eyes narrowed as Tempest and Frost immediately squared off against the intruder. Said intruder was a bit on the heavy side, a financial cutie mark on his flank as he stood up, trying to seem imposing to Shining… and utterly failing to do so.

“I am Governor Fund, and I demand to know what you plan to do with the civil unrest here!” Fund demanded. There was a moment of quiet in the tent before Shining cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, but I wasn’t aware that I took orders from governors,” Shining said flatly. “My orders come from my superiors, and they, in turn, receive the Captain-General of the Guard. And they answer only to the Empress, or those select few who have earned the right to speak in her stead. From what I can see Governor Fund, you are neither the Captain-General nor the Empress, so why are you in my tent?”

Fund’s eyes twitched as he stomped his hoof against the ground, looking like a petulant foal. “Well I… I have… I have never!” he stammered. “I want you to take action against these flea bitten, craven savages! They took me prisoner, assaulted my staff, and they likely robbed me of all my-!”

“Robbed? Why would you care about bein’ robbed at a time like this?” Frost asked, shutting Fund up in a heartbeat. “You should be glad you even got out alive!”

Shining looked at Fund’s cutie mark, his brow furrowed as he looked at Fund carefully. “...what did you say your name was?” he asked, Fund suddenly growing pale under his fur.

“Well, I umm, I’m Governor Fund, I-I-I…,” the pony stammered stepping back hastily. Shining nodded, the two soldiers behind Fund holding their lances across the entrance to the tent.

“Name. In full. Now.” Shining’s tone brokered no argument.

“...Slush Fund,” the governor admitted finally. Tempest huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Oh of course it had to be you,” she commented dryly. “Let me guess, you thought you could raise the taxes of the griffons here to some absurd rate, send in only the required amount to the Empress, and then pocket the rest? In fact, I’m sure if we took a look at your finances, we’re going to see some very expensive things that you shouldn’t have out here.” By her side, Frost’s expression grew increasingly livid as realization set in.

“Wait a minute, you mean all this shit that happened was because of one lousy bloodsucking PARASITE?!?” Frost yelled. Fund yelped in panic as Frost lunged at him, only for Shining’s magic to hold her back.

“Sergeant Major, we do not attack prisoners in a blind rage, no matter how justified,” Shining told her. Frost simmered down, glaring daggers at Fund as he turned his attention to Tempest. “Miss Shadow… I believe embezzling from the Royal Treasury is a capital offense, is it not?”

“That it is,” Tempest confirmed, a dark smirk on her face. Fund’s face paled, fully realizing how much shit he was in. “And as one of those ponies that can speak with the Empress’ voice… I am not entitled to be all that lenient on you.”

“Indeed, she’s not,” Shining said. “Besides, you should see what she did to the Jarl who took you captive. Wasn’t pretty. Still…” He stood up, groaning from the pain. “...I’ll not have her execute you on the spot. In fact, you are not going to face reprisal from anyone under my command here.”

“...really?” Fund asked, Frost and Tempest looking back at Shining in confusion. Shining nodded grimly.

“Indeed. You wronged the people whom you were charged to represent. I can only find it fitting that you answer to their justice as well. Is that agreeable, Miss Shadow?”

Tempest blinked, stunned for a moment before a most blood chilling smirk grew on her face. “You know what Centurion? You’re right.” She looked back at Fund, the portly stallion quivering in fear as a puddle grew from under him. “I think the griffons should have a chance at justice with this one. Spare me having to write the paperwork.”

“What?! No, NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Fund shouted as the guards grabbed him, dragging him out of the tent. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, I AM THE GOVERNOR OF GRIFFONSTONE, I-I-I-I HAVE CONNECTIONS!!”

“Sir, I’m friends with the Empress’ Shadow, I wrote the slave reforms you no doubt ignored, and I share the Empress’ bed on her whim,” Shining deadpanned. “If your ‘connections’ can beat that, then you have nothing to fear.” Fund screamed, struggling to escape the guards as Shining added, “Put him in irons, we’ll let the griffons decide his fate once we get back to Griffonstone.”

The other stallion screamed in terror as Tempest and Frost looked back at him. “A bit excessive, don’t ya think?” Frost asked. “You know those griffons are probably gonna tear him limb from limb in the middle of town square, right?” Shining sighed, letting his face drop into his hooves.

“Blueberry,” Shining said, making the two mares flinch at the casual use of the sergeant’s name, “If we kill him now, then the standards which I set up for the Legions and the Guard are useless, and I’ll likely lose my command, if not my life. If we bring him with us back to Canterlot, who’s to say that the griffons won’t just rebel even worse than they did just now? I’m not happy with the decision, I’m really not, but really, what can I do?”

“Well, I suppose you could step up as provisional governor,” Tempest said. “We’ll contact the Empress, appaise her of the situation, and then see what she says.” Shining groaned, even as Frost whistled for a soldier to come inside the tent.

“Private, is the wireless set up?” Shining asked, glancing at Tempest.

“Yes sir. You needed a message sent sir?”

Shining nodded. “Yes. Priority message to the Empress, via Major Swift Sky. Outpost secured, recovered survivors. Uncovered abuse of power by governor, requesting immediate replacement of leadership. Placing myself in temporary command until replacement arrives. Will return in Griffonstone in three days.”

The soldier nodded, galloping away to send the message, Mahiri stepping inside to look at Shining, confused. “What is going on? There was a stallion kicking and screaming, soldiers shoving a bridle in his mouth.” The trio looked between themselves before Shining spoke up.

“My love… Governor Slush Fund has been found to have been embezzling funds,” Shining explained, Mahiri’s eyes going wide. “Overtaxing the griffons, lying to the treasury, it's bound to be a political shitstorm. And to top it all off… he will not be facing reprisal from myself, Miss Shadow, or any other remaining soldier in my command.”

There was a moment of silence in the tent before the zebra mare took a deep breath, a hoof scraping the ground forcefully. Moments passed until finally Mahiri spoke. “Shining Armor… if you are not punishing him, then I suppose that you are letting the griffons do so?” Shining nodded. The zebra sighed, walking over to him and pulling him away from the table. “Shining, my mpenzi… I will say this once,” she whispered. “This stallion deserves punishment if his actions led to many dying needlessly. But promise me, please, promise me, that you will not let this happen again. For our sake.”

Shining looked into her eyes, the two of them standing in silence before they slowly hugged each other. To the side, Tempest edged herself away, giving the pair space as Frost did the same.

“Sir, I’ll go and get the troops ready to move back onto the ships,” Frost said. “I’m sure the Empress’ reply’ll be fast.” Tempest nodded in agreement as she started to walk out.

“I’ll tell the engineers to start repairing the fort, place should be up and running in no time,” Tempest added, letting Frost pass her as she left, leaving Shining and Mahiri alone in the tent for a bit longer. The two held each other for a moment longer before the zebra pulled away.

“Mahiri… thank you,” Shining told her, kissing her on the cheek. “I… the past week has been, well… I just-”

“Shh,” Mahiri held a hoof up to his lips, silencing him. “I understand that. All I ask, and pray, is that you don’t compromise who you are anymore. Your soldiers, the Empire… the Empress, need you to be strong enough to say no.” Shining nodded, smiling as he leaned over and nuzzled her, putting a hoof around her midsection and caressing her belly.

“Okay. I will… for both of you. I promise.” Mahiri smiled, content to hold onto Shining for just a moment longer before duty called.

They arrived in Griffonstone three days later, and already, Shining was getting a major headache. Just outside the airship docks, a mob of infuriated griffons were gathered, cawing and braying for blood as Shining and Tempest took the lead, Slush Fund behind them and surrounded by soldiers. “Well, if nothing else, it’s going to be a show worthy of Tartarus!” Tempest shouted over the noise, Shining grunting in annoyance.

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” he answered, making his way through the crowds until he and his ‘escort’ reached the center of town. Shining looked up and saw the cracked and moss covered statue of a resplendent griffon king, and silently wondered if that king had ever had to deal with a mob of angry griffons before. Tempest by his side, the guards quickly shoved Slush Fund next to Shining as they worked to give them space, Shining looking over the crowd and swallowing his dread.

Oh Harmony, this is going to go so well, Shining thought sarcastically to himself before clearing his throat and speaking. “Citizens of Griffonstone, please, remain calm!”

“CALM?!” one of the griffons shouted, waving a clawed fist into the air. “YOU BASTARDS WENT AND KILLED OUR OWN BECAUSE OF THAT BIT HOARDING FUCK NEXT TO YOU! WHY SHOULD WE STAY CALM?! GROVER’S BALLS, WE SHOULD JUST-!”

“We should just what?”

The voice cut through the angered shouts of the crowd like a knife, silencing the griffons as Shining and Tempest spotted the speaker. Making their way to the front, a bulky griffon stepped forward, a brown and grey male wearing a simple chainmail shirt. Jaded green eyes locked onto Shining’s own blue for a moment before the griffon looked at one of the others. “Swarm the legionnaires here, be done with it?” the griffon continued. “Do that, and the only thing you’ll be bringing here is a full legion, ready for blood at the least. Do us all a favor, fly away and fuck off.”

“And you are?” Shining asked, nodding to the griffon.

“A concerned citizen,” the grif said mockingly. “You?”

“Centurion Shining Armor. You the leader here?”

The grif scoffed. “I don’t lead shit here, no grif does. Not unless you pay.” Shining chuffed.

“Or you’re a Jarl.” Shining saw, if only for a moment, something resembling a flash of panic in the griffon’s eyes before they continued staring Shining down.

“Let me guess, you managed to defeat Jarl Gorm?” they asked.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have time to exchange names, given that we were trying to kill each other, but I can assume so,” Shining replied, a murmur going through the crowd. “Look, I don’t even want to be here, but,” Shining nudged Slush Fund forward with a hoof, the latter looking completely terrified, “I know now that this… bastard here, robbed all of you blind. By Imperial law, his life is mine to decide.”

“Your point?”

Shining took a deep breath. “Simple. I’m letting you, and the citizens of Griffonstone, decide his fate. After all, he stole from you. Seems fitting to let you all take back.” The crowd went quiet, the griffon in charge looking between the mob and Fund. Finally, the grif looked back at Shining warily.

“...and what in Grover’s crown makes you think I can trust you? That if we take him, that you won’t just kill us all anyway?” Shining let out a grim laugh as he pointed at Fund.

“Honestly? You don’t. But the only way to know for sure is to extend it,” Shining answered. The griffon closed their eyes, deep in thought before exhaling, nodding.

“Alright then. ALL YOU FEATHERY FUCKS, LISTEN UP!” the griffon shouted, the crowd going still. “HERE’S WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN! ALL OF YOU GET ONE, YES, ONE HIT ON THIS FUCKLESS WEASEL! NO KILLING HIM, OR MAIMING HIM TO THE POINT OF DEATH! YOU GET ONE HIT ONLY! AFTER THAT, GO TO HIS MANSION, AND GET ONLY ONE ITEM FROM INSIDE! GOT IT?” When no one in the crowd complained, the griffon nodded. “Good.” In a flash, the griffon had crossed the distance between them and Slush Fund, and rammed their elbow into his face, knocking the pony flat on their side. “Have at it then.”

The mob rushed forward, the soldiers getting out of the way as griffon after griffon delivered blows to Slush Fund, Tempest narrowing her eyes as she tracked the lightly armored griffon, Shining overseeing the beating. The griffon was about to take off, pausing only to look back at them when Tempest noticed the unusual facial markings of the griffon, up until they took off. “I don’t trust that griffon,” she muttered to Shining, leaning in close so that the other griffons couldn’t hear.

“Is that you, or your training talking?” Shining asked.

“Shining, the griffon doesn’t give us a name, implies he’s not a jarl, and then somehow gets a mob of griffons out for blood to listen to them,” Tempest explained. “I’ve seen what a mob of angry griffons can do, it’s not pretty. But them being commanded by one griffon? It’s suspicious.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, so long as this city isn’t erupting in a literal bloodbath, I can live with one oddly charismatic griffon,” Shining shot back. Tempest shook her head, letting out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Well, he’s not the only oddly charismatic being I know,” she told him, nudging his flank with her own. “And had others underestimate him for it.” Shining glanced at her, just as a pegasus messenger flew in, nodding to Shining.

“Centurion Armor sir, we have visitors from the capitol waiting at the embassy!” she reported.

Shining nodded, sighing in relief. “Oh thank Harmony… who is it?”

The messenger gulped hesitantly. “Sir… it’s the Empress herself.”

“...oh shit.”

Author's Note

Sweet merciful Fausticorn this took too long to write... freaking COVID.