All Quiet on the Home Front

by Eltirions

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Crossover, Dark, Death, Sad, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Equestria at War, Other
Length: 2426

War doesn't end when the guns stop shooting.

War doesn't end when the guns stop shooting.

Written for the First #fanfiction-zone Writing Contest!

Important: this takes place in the Equestria At War universe. Equestria At War is a mod for the grand strategy game Hearts of Iron IV, be sure to check out their Discord and Reddit if you're not familiar with it. They also have a group on this site: https://www.fimfiction.net/group/212917/equestria-at-war

Cover art: https://derpibooru.org/images/1792276 (resized)

Published 2021-12-18 19:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-12-18 19:30:00 UTC

No glorious battle without unnumbered tears

All Quiet on the Home Front

By: Eltirions

For: First #fanfiction-zone Writing Contest!

-x-X-x-

12 March 1015

‘’The War has exacted a terrible cost on us all. Many families have lost parents, children, siblings, aunts and uncles. I do believe that no one has come out of this war without consequence.

But, now victory has come to us, brought on the wings of those who gave their lives for our country. We shall honour the fallen, as they have paid the ultimate price; our gratitude is but a paltry sum to repay this price.

Arduous tasks now lay before us, before all of us. There are many things that need to be rebuilt; cities, bridges, roads. This we must do together, just as we stood together in the war, that great struggle that is now won by the Feathisian people-’’

‘’Turn that off,’’ Anton Moldernik instructed his aide, who promptly did as requested.

The President of the Feathisian Social Republic, now no longer listening to the sound of his own voice on the radio, instead turned his attention to the grand window he sat next to. He’d installed the windows in his office despite protests and warnings from his security; Anton wanted natural sunlight in his office, no matter the risk it posed.

And, well, Feathisia might be a parliamentary democracy on paper, with the President’s powers limited by the Constitution, but what President Anton Moldernik wanted, he got.

No sunlight now came through the windows, only starlight. The Moon was obscured behind clouds tonight, but stars were visible through openings between the clouds.

It was these moments of quiet contemplation that allowed Anton to relax. The past four years- Tartarus, the past eight years - had been by and far the most stressful of his life. He had fought through the Feathisian Civil War - luckily not as devastating as some other civil wars that had happened since that time - and then the near-impossible task of rebuilding Feathisia to its former glories. Of course, then the Griffonian War had begun.

The 17th of June, 1011; that was the date Aquileia had declared war on Feathisia and Herzland both. What followed was a bloody, four-year long struggle that only ended in a victory for Feathisia because of the damned Wingbardian socialists and their allies declaring war on Aquileia by surprise.

Now victorious, Feathisia appeared to be a rising eagle: its rightful territories were fully under its control, and satellite states in Pomovarra, Avian and Flowerino ensured Aquileia could never form a threat again.

But at what cost? Almost 750,000 Feathisians laid dead, of which roughly 300,000 had been civilians. A terrible cost to pay for any victory.

Anton was tired. Very, very tired.

‘’Sir?’’

Anton turned his attention away from the window to his aide. The lilac mare bowed her head at his piercing gaze. ‘’Yes?’’

She cleared her throat. ‘’Sir, I was just wondering if you’d like anything to drink.’’

Anton glanced at his glass - empty, just like the bottle that had once held a nice cider imported from Equestria - and then at the clock, which soundlessly informed him it was currently almost twelve o’clock.

During the most critical points of the War, he’d stayed up for almost 48 hours. He could handle it.

‘’Another bottle of that cider wouldn’t go amiss, Orchidee,’’ he answered. ‘’Get a glass for yourself as well,’’ he added a moment later.

Orchidee, a lilac unicorn from Buckmour, had only recently become his aide, replacing a griffon who had resigned after his two sons were both killed by artillery fire on the last day of the War. Anton could not blame him in the slightest.

Orchidee had been recommended by Kees de Zwart, the Minister of Internal Affairs and a close personal friend of Anton. She’d been serving under him as his secretary, but Kees had taken one look at Anton’s office just twelve hours after his previous aide had resigned and promptly all-but-thrown Orchidee at him. Anton had, begrudgingly, accepted.

He didn’t know much about the mare, and he wanted to change that. She’d been serving him for a couple of days now, and this was the first opportunity he’d gotten.

Orchidee returned soon enough, carrying a new bottle of cider and another glass in her magic, which was aquamarine in colour, similar to her eyes. She put both items on the table, then sat down in the seat normally reserved for guests.

‘’Are we toasting to something, sir?’’ Even a friendly request like that sounded professional. With a bit of luck, cider would change that. If not, well that was just too bad.

‘’I’ve already done too many toasts to victory,’’ Anton quipped, ‘’so unless you’ve got ideas…’’

‘’Not really, sir,’’ Orchidee replied. ‘’Just a toast, then?’’

‘’Very well.’’ Anton poured himself a glass, waited for Orchidee to pour herself one too, then raised his glass in the air without saying anything. Orchidee followed his example, and they clinked their glasses, before downing the contents at almost the same time.

The cider tasted pleasant; by and far it wasn’t the most alcoholic drink Anton had ever imbibed, but he wasn’t looking to get piss-drunk anyway. The time for that had been during the victory celebrations.

He could remember the cheers from just days ago clearly in his mind - frankly, it would have been more concerning if he couldn’t. Thousands of griffons had poured out onto the streets of De Vleugels to celebrate and party.

A parade of the returning soldiers was planned for later in the week, but the soldiers that were stationed in De Vleugels happily joined in the partying. Anton had personally signed off on the decision to waive any penalties for desertion, drunkenness and any other acts those soldiers might commit which they would otherwise be penalised for.

From what’d he heard, nothing in the way of such activities had happened in the end.

‘’I,’’ Anton began the conversation, ‘’have never swum in the sea.’’

Orchidee looked at him, surprise and confusion clear in her eyes. ‘’Sir?’’

‘’I’ve only seen it a couple of times,’’ Anton continued, ‘’most recently when I was in Fezera. And I have never had the opportunity to go for a stroll on the beach, much less swim in the sea. I’d like to, someday.’’

Orchidee didn’t respond. That was fine; it allowed Anton to think of other topics he could address.

‘’When I was seven,’’ he spoke up, ‘’my parents and I went for a picnic.’’ Had he told this story to others before? Maybe, he couldn’t recall. It didn’t matter. ‘’Just out of town. I grew up in Aiwle, ever visited?’’

Orchidee shook her head. ‘’I’ve never been.’’

‘’I wouldn’t recommend a trip unless you have other business,’’ Anton told her bluntly. ‘’I only go there for the Blue Moon Festival.’’

He sighed, and poured some more cider for himself. ‘’Aiwle is full of industry. There’s no charm to the place, none at all. You’ll find more cheer in a graveyard.’’

Anton looked away from the table out the window again. ‘’Now, I do believe it is your turn, Miss.’’

‘’Sir?’’

‘’Tell me a little about yourself,’’ he requested as he looked back at her.

Orchidee had evidently not expected that; it took her a few seconds to formulate a reply. ‘’What do you want to know, sir?’’ she finally asked.

Anton shrugged. ‘’Anything you feel comfortable sharing, I suppose.’’

Orchidee was silent for a moment, before nodding. ‘’Very well, sir.’’

She cleared her throat. ‘’I grew up in Buckmour, sir. It sounds like it was the complete opposite of Aiwle, no disrespect meant of course.’’

‘’Of course.’’

‘’Anyway, I grew up on the edge of town, or it was the edge back then.’’ Orchidee smiled fondly; probably remembering happy memories. ‘’I had an older brother, Dust Bowl, and two loving parents. We weren’t rich, but we were happy.’’

Anton couldn’t help but smile as well. That did sound nice.

‘’I moved to De Vleugels in… March 1007,’’ Orchidee went on. ‘’Since then, I’ve worked for the government.’’

‘’And you ended up in Kees’ office.’’

‘’Kees, sir?’’

‘’Minister de Zwart.’’

‘’Ah.’’

Silence fell in the room for some time. Orchidee apparently wasn’t willing to talk further, and Anton had nothing to talk about himself.

Thus, when it began to rain, they noticed immediately.

‘’Great,’’ Anton muttered. ‘’I hate rain.’’

‘’Sir, we’re inside.’’

‘’I know that.’’ It didn’t make him hate the rain any less. Nogriff liked being cold and wet, after all.

He looked away from the window, which was rapidly being covered by a watery patina, back to his desk. Most of the documents on it were official government business; but there were a few that weren’t.

One caught his eye. A letter by a grieving widow, accusing him of her husband’s death in less than polite terms. Anton didn’t mind; he was not going to have a just-widowed griffoness arrested for harsh words.

Especially when they weren’t lies.

‘’How’s your family now?’’

Orchidee, who had been watching the portrait of Gerlach I, the griff who’d unified the nine provinces and formed Feathisia, froze for a moment, then turned to face him with a stilted smile. ‘’Why do you ask, sir?’’

All the signs were there; Anton knew he probably ought to back off. But he was curious, and more than a little tipsy at this point. ‘’I like to know those who work for me.’’ That was nothing more than the truth.

‘’Sir.’’ Orchidee frowned. ‘’Sir, you are drunk.’’

He was, and he didn’t really care. He’d reined himself during the various victory celebrations; the only time he’d indulged was the night they’d signed the peace conference, when he and his cabinet - his friends - had emptied half the cellar of the Palace d’Aquila.

‘’I am,’’ he acknowledged. ‘’If that makes you uncomfortable, Miss, you are free to leave. I will not hold it against you.’’

Orchidee seemed to war with herself for a few moments, then grabbed her glass and downed what remained in it in one go. ‘’Cheers,’’ Anton offered as she put the glass down.

‘’Thank you, sir-’’

‘’Anton,’’ he interrupted. ‘’In private, call me Anton.’’

‘’Sir, I- Very well.’’ Orchidee let out a sigh of long suffering. ‘’Then, please call me Orchidee.’’

‘’As you wish.’’

Orchidee took a deep breath. ‘’My parents, last I knew, are alive and well. They’re working up to their retirement.’’

Anton had a feeling he knew what was coming when she fell silent. ‘’And your brother?’’

‘’He…’’ Orchidee’s breath hitched. ‘’He died in the war.’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Anton said after a moment of berating himself for asking a question he already knew the answer to.

‘’It’s…’’ Orchidee looked away, back to the portrait again. ‘’I miss him.’’

Anton remained silent. He’d had too many conversations that went like this in the past years. In his experience, it was best to remain silent and wait for the other person to speak.

The silence continued, stretching on for seconds that ticked into minutes. Anton contented himself with looking over his desk again, even if he’d trust himself to get any work done properly right now. But he didn’t want to make Orchidee uncomfortable. At least, not more so than she already probably was.

‘’He- he was in the Army,’’ Orchidee finally said. A quick glance at the clock told him roughly ten minutes had passed since she’d spoken. ‘’He fought on the southern front. Operation Silence, he was on the right flank, with his unit and a bunch of Herzlanders.’’ She chuckled, weakly. ‘’His letters always complained about them, but they grew more fond towards… they, the Herzlanders I mean, they were from Katerin, somewhere deep in the woods, probably never been to a city in their lives before the war.’’

She kept on talking, and Anton had no wish to stop her. ‘’Dust, he… he liked fighting. Said it was his pegasus heritage, our martial traditions. I don’t know about that, but the only part of the war he ever complained about aside from the Herzlanders was the waiting. That, and latrine duty.’’ She giggled, once, but it was something at least.

Orchidee took a breath, then continued. ‘’His last letter, he wrote that he was being transported down to Flowena. He’d been chasing the remnants of the Aquileian Army, but his unit was reassigned to the Siege of Flowena. He never made it there.’’ She bowed her head.

Now was one of those moments to speak. ‘’What happened?’’ Anton asked quietly.

Orchidee didn’t raise her head. ‘’Aquileians sabotaged the tracks, then butchered the survivors. We never found out if he died from the sabotage or died fighting.’’

Anton remembered reading about that. It’d been a disastrous loss for their side, and a total victory for the enemy.

The unicorn all but collapsed back into her seat. ‘’Forgive me sir, I-’’

‘’There is nothing to forgive,’’ Anton said. ‘’Take all the time you need, Orchidee.’’

‘’T-thank you, sir.’’

Was there any cider left in the bottle? There was, Anton discovered, and so he poured it into the two glasses, first Orchidee’s and then his own. ‘’Is there anything I can do for you or your parents?’’

‘’Thank you, sir, but no,’’ Orchidee said. ‘’You already punished those typhus bastards who killed my brother with the treaty. And as we don’t know who ordered that attack…’’

‘’Actually, I do,’’ Anton cautiously offered. ‘’The Head of the Chouquette set it up; she was the one directing partisan efforts behind our lines. We had her arrested for war crimes. She’ll be tried along with the rest of the Aquileian top brass in Romau.’’

Orchidee’s eyes lit up. ‘’Then, sir, there is something you could do for me. I would like to attend the trial of this person, and I think my parents would as well.’’

‘’Done,’’ Anton said immediately. ‘’Tartarus, I’d have offered you that if I knew…’’

‘’It’s alright, sir,’’ Orchidee said with a tight smile. ‘’There was no way you could know.’’

Anton nodded, then raised his glass. ‘’To…’’

‘’To the fallen.’’

‘’To the fallen.’’

And on that rainy spring evening, in an office in De Vleugels, under the watchful eyes of Gerlach I, a great friendship was born.

Author's Note

And here's my entry for this delightful contest!

Orchidee translates to Orchid; I'm Dutch myself so I'd know :raritywink:

You can read the other entries here:

Scribbly's: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/508093/no-sudden-flame

Big Saij's: https://www.fimfiction.net/story/510398/when-shadows-rise