Chapters Chapter 1: The Coronation
“You look dashing, your majesty.”
Grover whirled about on the spot, nearly tripping and barely righting himself as his old friend continued into the room. Benito wasn’t wrong, he never was in truth, but the emperor had found it a little difficult to accept that compliment.
“Thank you. That means more from you than it does from the tailors,” The golden-feathered griff responded, smiling as he stepped forward past the table that he had almost fallen over.
The dog laughed haughtily and snorted as diamond dogs are prone to doing from time to time. He himself looked quite the gentleman, dressed up in his full military regalia for the day’s main event. As the Captain of the Royal Guard he had plenty of brass added on top of his already prestigious green-gold uniform. Grover remembered how he had looked in it for his father’s funeral all those years ago; age hadn’t really dulled the hound’s looks, even though he was now eighty-six. Unsurprisingly, he was planning to retire from his position not long after the coronation. Nocreature could fault him for that.
Turning to look at himself again in the mirror, the emperor finally admitted to himself that he did look the part. Besides the old artefacts that he would have to both wear and carry, the newly designed royal robes were quite something. They incorporated colours and elements of older regal wear such as the robe, but placed them upon a much more modern quasi-military uniform which looked really rather fetching. Between the golden trim, the golden buttons and everything else that was gold or gold-tinted; there was black, or in smaller areas purple. It really was quite the look, even without the crown and various other bits and pieces it was undeniably impressive; to the point where he actually felt a little small wearing it.
But his appearance wasn’t why he was nervous.
His mind was occupied with something far more pressing. Das Griffonische Reich was the world’s leading superpower, a status which likely wouldn’t change even if the nation was chronically mismanaged for several decades. Whilst the responsibility itself was terrifying, far more concerning was what such a title meant internationally.
Right this second it meant that the Nightmare and her husband King Sombra were invited to and present at his coronation, as was River Swirl. Nobody wanted the former pair here, nobody even wanted them close to the heart of the empire; but it was a necessary evil in order to make it out as though the empire favoured no side and could thusly maintain amicable relations with Equestria-Cyrstalia and the River Federation’s respective leadership. They had taken measures to secure the safety of the emperor and the rest of the attendees, but there is only so much one can do when in the presence of a demigod and her partner. He just had to hope and pray to Boreas that they wouldn’t cause a fuss.
“I’m sure they won’t do anything dangerous Grover.” Benito said reassuringly, recognising the look on his friend’s face almost instantly; snapping the griffon out of his contemplation.
He turned to face the hound again and titled his head with a slight frown. He was always right, but his majesty never knew how he could be so certain in his claims.
“After all, if they jeopardise their relations with the empire at such a critical moment then they risk a crisis which they are sure to back down from. For all their power, the moon and her lapdog can do naught but cower when threatened with the talons of Boreas’ chosen.” The old warrior explained with a warm smile and surprising vigour.
“As usual, you’re right. That doesn’t make their presence any less unnerving, unfortunately.” Grover agreed, sighing slightly and plodding over to his long-time friend.
“No, but it does mean you can be nervous whilst wearing a smile rather than a frown. You hold sway over the moon itself your highness!” Benito retorted with a toothy grin.
“That I do. That I do,” He conceded, finally cracking a smile of his own and letting out a slight chuckle.
But for how long could they rely on such sway?
~*~
A booth in the cathedral just for them? How pleasant, if entirely unsurprising. They’d even gone out of their way to enlarge the seats slightly in order to properly accommodate an alicorn. That was very polite of these feather-brains. Sombra could tell that his wife was pleased, as much as she could be, with the arrangement.
“Come, love. Sit and enjoy the festivities,” Nightmare called softly with her usually devious smile, already sat comfortably on the provided furniture.
The king smirked just a little and trotted slowly over to his partner before sitting beside the alicorn who, naturally, was little taller than he was; even when seated.
“You’re in a very good mood aren’t you… Not planning something, I hope?” He asked, nuzzling his snout into her deep blue coat.
“Well, not at this precise moment.” She returned, half playfully and half in earnest, “Since we are here by necessity and little else, I think it would be best if we enjoyed this time; don’t you think? I would rather reduce them all to quivering heaps of feathers, but that would be… Problematic.”
After the ceremony would be the celebrations; there they could terrify some of the guests, ‘inadvertently’ disrespect griffon customs, perform some less-than-appropriate-party tricks involving mind control... She could have meant so many things by that, which was part of the reason why he adored her.
“I quite agree. There’s nothing quite like making the most of your time,” The king concurred with a smile as the alicorn leaned over, resting her head on top of his for a moment.
For now however, they would simply have to wait out the ceremony. A necessary and dull evil for the both of them.
Within the cathedral there was possibly the greatest collection of important figures in recorded history. Many ministers from the empire along with goodness knows how many generals and nobles made up the greatest portion of the griffons on the pews below, alongside the emperor’s regents who were foolishly handing over their power to this child. Delegates from the Federation and River Swirl herself sat directly across from them; these weaklings had tried to sustain their sprawling and diverse republic with democracy, only to lose a war to the empire. Pathetic creatures.
“There he is, the traitor.” Sombra suddenly exclaimed with a snarl, looking towards the back of the building which she hadn’t yet inspected.
Jet Set, the puppet governor of New Mareland, had been reinstated by the empire once they had wrangled the colony from its separatist socialist overlords. He was a disgrace, both for letting such a revolution take place to begin with and for cooperating with their single greatest rival. Nightmare would have had him executed on the spot, if the opportunity had presented itself.
“I wouldn’t worry about him dearest… See his expression every time he glances up at us? The anxiety? The fear in his eyes? This is a greater revenge than we could every impart upon him through simple death or torture,” She noted with a cackle which drew one or two looks from the congregation.
Sombra grunted and relaxed, calmed by his wife’s words. He didn’t like it when ponies rebelled and lived to tell the tale, there was a reason why he had become so obsessed with mind control after all, but Jet certainly did look terrified. That was enough for him, at least for now.
Yes, it was quite the mass. They even had a seating area for the dogs, despite the fact that they were now an incredibly small minority within the empire. Neither of them understood why they were as loyal to the emperor as they were.
At least if they enjoyed themselves this wouldn’t be a complete waste of time.
~*~
Grover’s uniform wasn’t the only thing that was new about the ceremony. In fact, the vast majority of it was a new spin on an old idea. Instead of a carriage, the emperor now made use of an open-topped car; provided in a special order by one of the Herzland manufacturers, he forgot which one. It was a beautiful thing, black and trimmed with gold much like his attire; a machine fit for the boy, as the designer had said almost a year ago now. The royal guard wore their ancient enchanted armour, but held fully automatic magic rifles instead of halberds as they had done for his father.
The streets that the procession travelled through, once sprawling cobblestone and ancient paving were now tarmacked roads; roads that were lined with both old townhouses and new blocks of flats which themselves were beginning to get almost as tall as the cathedral that he was about to be crowned in. Everything was a combination of the new and the old, which would have made Griffenheim a marvel in its own right even if it wasn’t the largest and most prosperous city in all of Griffonia. Needless to say, the streets and buildings were chock-full of griffons, dogs and even ponies as far as the eye could see. Some waved, most cheered and all of them looked ecstatic.
The noise was deafening, with hundreds or thousands of citizens cheering on the kronprinz depending on which part of the journey they were on. It was almost enough to make Grover forget that he would only get this kind of reception here in the Herzland. The Wingbardians and Aquileians would more likely take the opportunity to attempt an assassination and the less thought about what might happen in the frontier the better. The empire was unified and functional, but the emperor represented everything that its diverse citizens might even think of hating. The wars of unification and the devastation they left in their wake, the return to monarchy from republicanism, a strong central government or even just the fact that their country was soon to be led by an eighteen-year-old; all were things that many despised outside of the nation’s heartland.
He couldn’t help but think that he was unprepared for this role, even if he’d spent his life so far preparing for it. The responsibility was just… Immense.
~*~
The rest of the journey flew by as the soon-to-be emperor occupied himself with thinking, waving and not falling over in the back of the car whenever it turned. Before he knew it, they had pulled to a stop just outside the massive building that his ancestors had been coronated in; as Grover himself was about to be.
As was tradition, the head of the royal guard led the emperor from his ‘carriage’ whilst flanked by his subordinates, until they reached the cathedral doors. As the spectacled griffon’s entourage peeled off, Benito threw him a wink; which caused a spontaneous smile. It wasn’t something he was supposed to do, but it was something that the young griff was immensely thankful for. This was when the tension was highest, when the cheering became a bearable volume and eventually stalled for the ceremony itself, when the world put him on a stage.
This was the first time a coronation would be filmed for the world to see too; there were plenty of cameras, already rolling as he set claw to red carpet inside the building. They wouldn’t just be recording video either, but capturing audio also; his vows to the country before he was crowned and the ensuing applause would be heard as well as watched. Well, the smile would look better on camera; the griffons that they’d hired for the broadcast had said as much.
The sound around him fell away slowly as he paced down the walkway, looking slowly from left to right between the various native dignitaries; then up at the balcony areas where most of the foreign guests were. He caught a glimpse of Nightmare and Sombra, both of whom seemed to have been making mischievous grins even before he’d spotted them. Just the thought of their scheming almost made him stop and start, but Grover continued plodding up to the throne.
Now for what was the planners had been calling the most grandiose part of the event. In front of the gold-feathered griffon the steps to the imperial throne lay; atop them the seat itself. He stopped and bowed before the throne and other emperors long past by proxy, as was tradition, before ascending the steps himself.
He wanted to stare at the throne for a moment, just to get any time more to contemplate this monumental decision that would define the rest of his life. But it was too late for that. He couldn’t marvel at the beautifully restored seat, the paintings that had been made in his honour or the fantastically decorated building which had been refurbished for this exact moment.
He was already on the seat, foreclaws on the armrests and head rigidly forward. From his left Karsten Grundgriff, Archon of Boreas, approached him holding the imperial crown followed by Hephaestus the Third, Archon of Eyr, with the imperial sceptre in one claw and a replica of the Idol of Boreas in the other. They stopped just beside him, the former taking his left and the other standing strong on his right.
“Will you swear upon your honour, life and devotion to Boreas to govern the multitudinous creatures of the Griffonisches Reich, in addition to the autonomous territories of Neustutenland, the Kingdom of Asterion and the Far North?” Karsten started, beginning the ceremony proper with the oaths.
“I solemnly swear that I shall,” The kronprinz returned, his voice echoing off of the cathedral walls.
“Will you, with all the powers granted to you, rule for law and justice; with mercy for all your subjects?” The archon continued, words booming out.
“I will,”
“Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the will of Boreas and the true profession of his most holy gospel? Will you in all of your granted strengths maintain the oaths of your forefathers before you? Will you with these gifts from our gods that raise the sun and the moon, do all in your power to work in service of your people before all else?”
“All this I promise to do. The things which I have before promised, I will perform and keep; so help me Boreas.” The young griffon finished, wondering for a moment what Nightmare’s feelings about their griffon gods encroaching on her moon were.
Some more ceremony followed, the anointing and the providing; all without issue, as expected for an event so rehearsed as this. Grover didn’t need to think much for those, only sit in his chair stoically until it was time to receive the crown jewels.
With the other ancient parts of this millennia old ritual now over, the golden-feathered griffon turned over his talons to take the artefacts in his grasp. First the replica idol was presented and placed in his left claw, then the sceptre in his right and finally the crown upon his head. They stepped away, allowing silence to fill the hall for a few moments and giving the crowd full view of the griffon that was moments away from becoming their emperor.
Grover looked for just a second at his smiling aunt and uncle, sitting in the front row of pews. They looked so happy, Gabriela in particular was beaming with pride. Then they stood, along with all the other attendees in almost perfect unison.
“Boreas save the emperor! Eyr grant him prosperity! Arcturius smite his enemies! All hail Emperor Grover!” Cried out the seated congregation first, then again along with the foreign guests and a third time with complete conviction.
The nation cheered with them then, outside the cathedral, in their homes across the Herzland and even in some places further afield. Grover stood and stepped down from the throne for his outward procession as the congregation took to their hooves, claws and paws to bow and applaud.
Finally the kaiser could look freely upon his subjects, gazing from the upper booths in the left of the hall to the central pews and then back up again to the right-hand-side. He couldn’t help but smile, for all his fears. This experience was something truly spectacular. The Emperor of Griffonkind could even make out River Swirl bowing out of respect, though Nightmare and Sombra simply stood and watched silently. They had at least been courteous enough to rise, which was more than he had earnestly expected.
For now, it was good to be emperor.
Author's Note
Well hey, this is planned to be my first longfic; hopefully that plan comes to fruition.
This is going to be based broadly off of my Feathers, Flaws and Family fic; starting instead at Grover VI's coronation and moving along until (and hopefully beyond) the events of that short story. With any luck I can create a decent character story and an engaging political scene, so here's to that.
Chapter 2: The Afterparty
The night of the coronation was as much a time for celebration as was the day, though as a general rule far more alcohol was involved as soon as the clock passed seven in the evening. This was a universal law of such happy times as this; even the remaining nobility, current politicians and foreign dignitaries were invited to the halls of the palace to enjoy a night of revelry. All accepted of course, denying the emperor was no death wish in the empire these days; but few wanted to squander their opportunity to gain favour with their new ruler and even fewer would say no to spending time at such a delightful party under a royal roof.
Unfortunately, Nightmare and Sombra were also included in the guest list.
Grover would much rather have spent time talking to River Swirl, the Jaks or even the notoriously icy polar bears and penguins; but he had prepared himself for this. Really everycreature present had been quietly preparing themselves for what were broadly seen as demons and incredibly bad omens for the empire. However, those that attended this party were also very aware of why they were here and, like their emperor, had no choice but to put up with them; much as they had to put up with these revolting griffons.
All attendees at the event, even the most important of individuals, knew that it was best not to provoke the wrath of the moon or invoke the lust for revenge of her husband. Partially because they feared for their lives, and rightfully so, but also because they were all representatives of their respective homelands in such a context as this. The whole affair was not merely a party, but a charade in which each participant must perform their part for fear of ruining the delicate game that they chose to play. It was a game that Grover was, for obvious reasons, very inexperienced at; but he was astute and determined to learn, even if it meant making mistakes.
“Champagne your highness? Wine, perhaps?” One of the butlers whom Grover had sadly not yet gotten to know offered.
“Not tonight, thank you.” He returned with a slight smile.
If he had known him then he would have been aware that the emperor was effectively teetotal and had no intention of changing that. His majesty couldn’t help but smile slightly for the unawareness, but he wouldn’t be so unkind as to inform the very polite griff of his error.
Instead he needed to busy himself with socialising for the night, just as his aunt Gabriela used to do in his father’s court. She was taking time off with Gerlach at the moment, both of them seemingly tired of this part of the job and tired from organising a lot of the coronation themselves. Grover had actually encouraged them to relax tonight too since it would motivate him to do this sort of thing proactively in the future; to take responsibility into his own claws. Even though he didn’t particularly enjoy this schmoozing it was a skill he would need to hone for the purposes of realpolitik.
Nocreature here was going to get thoroughly drunk, such was inappropriate for parties of this calibre, which made it a good time and place to get to know his future allies and rivals. Any head of state would be a good place to start but they all seemed like reasonable options. Well, all except the obvious pair and their current quarry. He could see poor Prince Bradford effectively being bullied by the tyrant monarchs of the east across the enormous room and decided that it would be best to avoid those three for now. In spite of typical Jaki temperament that was bold and headstrong, the prince had to be incredibly careful with those two constantly eyeing his territory. Joining in that conversation at the wrong moment could be catastrophic, so for now he had to allow the poor creature to effectively kowtow at their hooves.
Instead the emperor’s calm eyes were drawn to Aleksander Eskildsen and Anne Kjellberg, the male penguin and female bear diarchs of the Arctic Commonwealth respectively who appeared to be finishing up a conversation. He had, as of yet, never met these two members of royalty which made them of particular interest; though he was admittedly apprehensive when it came to pronouncing their names. He’d try to avoid using their names at all, if possible.
“Your highness!” The small group exclaimed in a staggered fashion once Grover was close enough.
“Your majesties, good evening to you both and to you all.” He replied in a relatively suave manner, bowing moments after they did, though not quite as deeply.
So far so good.
“And to you, most esteemed Emperor of Griffonkind. We had just been discussing nuclear power of all things; news travels fast about such innovations.” Aleksander returned, eager to continue conversation.
This was less optimal. For all his education Grover had never specialised in or been especially fond of nuclear physics; but he did know enough to hold a conversation on the reactors that they were currently building around the empire. Hopefully that would be enough. Or perhaps… No, there was a better choice here. He would let them explain the technology to him. Whether he understood that explanation or not, it would make him seem more humble in the eyes of his guests and allow them to gush over a subject they were clearly passionate about, at least from an economic perspective. He was already beginning see why court culture could be so intricate and stressful, now that he was engaging with it in person.
“Ah, yes. I must admit I’m no expert on the subject, even if I have approved the construction of reactors that utilise the technology. I understand that they use nuclear fission to generate power, but that is the limit of my knowledge.” He replied with a slightly quizzical but genuinely interested look on his face, practically begging any of the group for a more detailed description.
What followed was a legitimately engrossing conversation about nuclear fission and its applications in both the generation of power and the creation of nuclear weapons. They spoke of the basics which he was already somewhat aware of, but also the exact elements involved, the process by which control rods were used to mitigate excess energy and even the basic layout of potential reactors that they might wish to construct in their own country. It was admittedly difficult to keep up, something that he knew would be a running theme throughout this evening and really his reign as a whole. He just had to match the rest of the world as it sped by; that was his duty after all.
“…which… is why we are so interested. Our vast supply of… Arctic crystal would allow us to innovate in the nuclear industry and… Get ahead of the competition.” Queen Anne explained, having detailed the potential benefits of magic and crystals in nuclear programs.
“Truly fascinating. Perhaps we too shall explore such possibilities with the use of griffon enchantments; a race to create the most efficient nuclear power source.” The emperor returned, struggling to make out the Herzlander through her incredibly thick bearish accent and slow speech.
“Or the most powerful nuclear deterrent,” Aleksander added, clearly set on developing a true method for stopping Nightmare and Sombra.
That made Grover stop and start for a moment. A nuclear race would mean a nuclear arms race too by default, if other nations acquired such technology. This was a new era of weaponry and diplomacy for which none of his predecessors’ knowledge could help him. That was terrifying. For how long would griffons hold a monopoly on such weapons?
“Indeed,” the golden-feathered griff said simply, suddenly wondering whether they had made a mistake in pursuing this technology.
~*~
Sombra watched from across the way as the emperor excused himself from the group he had just been in; now heading over to one of the food tables. It seemed as though he’d left a good impression on the party, though it was rather difficult to tell from a distance. Well, he could always go up and ask; nocreature was going to stop him. He turned to his partner and tilted his head with a smirk, indicating the currently lone boy filling a warm plate.
“Feel free darling, I have some business to attend to with the riverponies; do try not to permanently traumatise him, or… Perhaps do. I’ll leave that one up to you, hmm?” The alicorn replied, nodding in response and smirking slightly.
“Likewise to you,” He retorted with a playful grin, receiving a kiss on the snout and trotting off.
Grover had barely picked out a well-balanced meal when he felt the presence of something just behind him. He was about to turn and greet whoever it was, but only got so far as the former as the Crystal King immediately introduced himself.
“Am I interrupting, your majesty?” He asked, rather more politely and properly than the emperor had honestly expected.
“Not at all, your highness; in fact I meant to thank you for going to such efforts to come out here for my sake, I was under the assumption that things were rather busy on Equus.” The golden-feathered griff returned, courteously returning his plate to the table to make conversation.
What he struggled to hide, as Sombra very easily noticed, was the very thinly veiled lie in that statement. It was seemingly true that the Emperor of Griffonkind was surprised by his presence even if they had been prepared for his arrival, but he was unconvinced that he had any desire to give thanks. For a moment the king thought about playing along with this little game that these birds seemed to covet so, but he was little interested in toying with someone as inexperienced and dull to the world of court culture. Why not test the waters instead, see the child's true colours? Perhaps make him feel a little conflicted in the process? That sounded far more interesting.
“Now, let’s not play coy. We both know why I’m here and how little my presence is desired, the same goes for my partner; does it not?” He immediately responded, already knowing the answer to that question and continuing, “I would rather be at home, maintaining my spells; but I imagine you know that just as well, at least if the last KG operative we found was any basis for assumption.”
To say that Grover was unprepared for this conversation, informality and outward discussion of state secrets aside, was an understatement. It seemed like this was a test of sorts from the unicorn, one that he thought he was about to fail, given the fact that he had absolutely no idea to respond.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m not assessing you; not just yet anyway. You are only a child entrusted with the lives, safety and prosperity of millions of griffons. To be frank, I am surprised that your carers aren’t here looking out for you. It’s quite the party to miss, isn’t it?” The crystal king continued, casually assessing his insecurities on the spot and driving a hoof into them.
“Well, I… yes; they’re taking the night off. I thought it would be a good opportunity to get better at this part of the job.” The emperor managed in response, not checking to see if others were looking or listening to his façade shatter.
Even though Grover was noticably larger than Sombra even at eighteen, a combination of griff genetics and Boreas’ blessing giving him the slight size advantage, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly small at this moment. He’d come over to this table already needing to mull things over before proceeding to the next lot of guests, this was exactly what he didn’t need right now.
“Mmm. Admirable,” The unicorn noted, seemingly studying the griffon’s features.
“Excuse me?” His royal highness gave out, once again taken aback by the shift in his tone of voice.
“Your willingness to improve yourself is admirable. A good monarch should seek to do his utmost to achieve the utmost when faced with adversity. Not only that, but clearly you have looked for an opportunity where you encountered difficulty. That too is something I can respect.” The diarch explained, having instantly lost his previous malice but making Grover no less uncomfortable for it.
He had a grey claw lifted off of the ground, having originally intended to move slightly, but now found himself utterly still and bewildered with his beak ajar. Sombra was a unicorn that enslaved over forty million ponies at any one time using magic and he was complementing him, which was somehow worse than the initial dread and yet oddly reassuring at the same time. What, by Boreas, was he doing? Was this all some sort of game to him? Some sick joke?
“I’m… just making the effort to be the best that I can be for my subjects. A monarch is a representative of the people, for the people; they must strive to epitomise the best aspects of the society over which they rule.” The emperor replied, managing to recover by quoting his uncle Gerlach to provide adequate reasoning.
“Oh you don’t need to explain yourself to me, monarch to monarch I quite understand. You choose to mould yourself around your griffons, whilst I mould my ponies around me instead. A test of systems, to see which one emerges victorious; if political romanticism is to your liking.”
“I apologise, but I must ask; what of Eyr’s many treasures are you trying to gain from this conversation?” The griffon asked, barely managing to maintain his composure.
“Must there be an answer to that question? I simply mean to enjoy my evening, your highness. You would do well not to overwork yourself. It is only your first day as emperor after all,” The Crystal King answered, raising an eyebrow and generating a look of genuine concern.
It was like being repeatedly drenched with water, another bucket every single time he did something unexpected. Sombra was the king of manipulation and dark magic, not just of the Crystal Empire; yet Grover couldn’t help but be more confused than concerned at this point. He replaced his talons on the floor and blinked once or twice before, of all reactions, smiling and laughing. This was not how he had expected this conversation to go, was he really just… Sympathetic? Surely not.
“Well, thank you for… Expressing your concern. This… This isn’t where I saw this conversation going, to be honest.” Grover admitted, leaning into the lack of formality.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” The ancient unicorn returned before smiling with his fanged teeth, “I quite understand your difficulties, really I should apologise for bringing up your regents; they surely must mean a lot to you, as any parental figures would. I imagine not having them here is quite difficult, even if you’re using the time well.” He offered, returning the honesty with an apology.
At that the emperor realised that he had to take a reality check. There was absolutely no chance that Sombra would be this likable without wanting something from him. He was a tyrant and a thoroughly evil individual with no regard for the lives of his subjects; the great war had proven as much to any that dared observe the conflict. This interaction was absolutely surreal. Even though his general opinion of Nightmare’s consort had been cemented long prior, he couldn’t help but wonder if any of this was real. But it couldn’t be, not from the Crystal King.
Grover had been about to thank him a second time, if only superficially, but the unicorn turned his head to look behind him for a moment; only for both of them to notice that his wife was slowly sauntering their way.
“I’ll handle her, don’t worry. Go on and make the most of your night,” Sombra gave out, turning and giving the boy a pat on the shoulder using one of his hooves.
It certainly wasn’t a comfortable conversation, nor was the good-natured gesture particularly endearing; but if anything he was thankful that he didn’t have to talk to her. Had he really gotten even a little used to Equestria’s slave driver just like that? Wasn’t Sombra worse than Nightmare for what he did? The griff shuddered, grimaced and had to flex his wings a little as Sombra trotted over to the dark alicorn, suddenly having found just a tinge of grey in the black next to the white that he was used to. The euphoria of the coronation had worn off very quickly.
Oh, and his food was cold. Great.
"How was your little chat, darling?" Nightmare asked in a chilling tone as the unicorn approached.
"Interesting my love; very interesting indeed." Sombra answered in earnest, maintaining a contemplative expression.
~*~
“Don’t you think we should at least check in on him?” Gabriela wondered aloud, making her husband roll his eyes and laugh.
“You really don’t stop worrying about him, do you?” Gerlach replied sarcastically.
“Well he’s trying to take on the weight of an empire all by himself! I know he’s talented and that we both want to work less, but there’s a limit.”
“I… I’m worried too. But he’s a strong griffon, a little naïve and idealistic maybe; but so were we way back when. We still are, really. You know as well as I do that if he’s anything like his father then he’ll seek help only when he desperately needs it; if we try to pre-empt that then he’ll just turn away what we offer him. Benito would tell you the same,” The Duke said calmly, turning to look at his partner with a weak smile.
“It’s just… difficult. I don’t like leaving him to deal with that sort of thing alone. He doesn’t deserve to struggle with it,”
“I know. But he’s never more than a half-day’s train ride away; he’ll be alright in the end, no matter what happens.” The grey-feathered griffon gently added, putting a talon atop his partner’s; both resting on the second-story balcony they stood behind.
For a moment they both sat there, bathed in a weak half-moon light; gently squeezing each other’s claws and taking some slow breaths. They’d just had dinner in a small but well renowned restaurant some miles away from Griffenheim city limits, but neither felt very satisfied. It was a damned if they did, damned if they didn’t sort of situation; trying to think about how they could best look after their son.
“Gabby… Do you think Grover knows how much I care?” He asked all of a sudden.
“Oh Boreas… I… Yes, I think so. Just because I’m more emotive doesn’t necessarily mean-“
“No, I mean… Well, you know what I mean. You’ve always spent more time with him, always wanted us to get along better. I’m just… Mmm.” Gerlach began, looking at the strawberry-feathered duchess and then back up at the night sky.
“I think that… You both need to reach out. Whenever that happens you’ll both… Feel a lot better.” She managed in response, looking into his scarred eyes for a moment.
“You think?”
“Yeah,”
He nodded slowly and smiled, before shuffling over a little and wrapping a wing around her as she leaned into his soft neck plumage. Everything was going to be okay.
Author's Note
SoMbRa Is A fLaT cHaRaCtEr
Anyway here you go, an introduction to the era we're living in as well as Grover's aunt and uncle who have brought him up; plus a little hint at the politics of the world at the moment and some historical events. Not to mention the beginnings of his majesty's insecurities on the emperorship's greyscale issues. Hopefully this one didn't feel too bloated, idk; let me know if so.
Hope you all enjoy, as always
Chapter 3: The Wakeup Call
“Arc, you need to take my place as president.”
For most figures of import such a sentence would be incredibly exciting, perhaps even life-defining or at the very least intriguing. For Arclight it brought back horrible nightmares.
“River, for the last time… I don’t want to relitigate what happened when I headed the coup back then, nor do you. I’m the reason the federation is in the state it currently is and you know that,” He responded, making an unseen grimace that was nevertheless audible.
A tense silence filled River Swirl’s phone booth and his office. He ground his hoof into the mahogany desk and frowned whilst his long-time friend sighed over the phone, presumably somewhere private in Griffenheim. Her flight home was only a few hours away from departing, another few from arriving back in Rijekograd. He knew what she was talking about, and she knew that he wasn’t interested.
“But it would be different this time Arc, wouldn’t it? You wouldn’t have to do anything against the democratic institutions of the federation to place yourself in charge. Tartarus, I could hand it all over to you right now; most of the government would rather work for somepony that will keep them safe rather than me or any other elected president anyway. The River Federation needs you more than the republic did back then. You dealt with the communists before and you can deal with the nationalists now, you don’t even have to stay in control for long! You’re already running the show when I’m not there anyway!” She begged, trying desperately to convince him even now.
“River, please. Just because congress trusts me again after all these years doesn’t mean that the citizens do. Remember the outrage when I was reinstated as head of the OHS? Or even further back when I was given a minor job there after everything I did? Everypony wanted me dead when it reached the tabloids and that sentiment hasn’t gone anywhere. Me taking over now would only result in more chaos, even if I could deal with the dissent in the short term. The answer is no. In fact, if anything, I should resign. Regardless you shouldn’t be using a public phone to discuss this sort of thing, even if the griffons claim that they don’t tap the lines.” He volleyed back, careful not to shout at his incredibly stressed president.
They both sighed and took a moment to breathe. What concerned Arclight most was that she was starting to raise more and more valid reasons to oust the government, the list of which he could only see getting longer as time went on.
“You know just as well as I do that the only thing keeping the federation alive right now is that our citizens at least think they have a voice. I and I alone am responsible for how rushed and unstable the political system is, but it’s also the only thing keeping this place from falling apart right now.” He went on, reminded of how his war with the empire had likely tainted the river’s future forever.
River stayed quiet this time. She knew he was right, but it didn’t mean she was anywhere near as calm as he was. The death threats, the heart-wrenching letters and the many many petitions she had read over the last year alone would have driven her insane if it wasn’t for him. She couldn't put up with being jeered at and nearly attacked in the streets whenever she went outside, nor could anypony else brought into power by another election.
“I won’t make the same mistake twice. The circumstances may be different, but that doesn’t mean the outcome will be. I will not pre-empt a revolution by usurping the government, even if it would give you peace of mind. I will do all in my power to keep you and the country safe, but I will not overstep my jurisdiction unless it is absolutely necessary.” He finished, brow furrowed and bottle of whiskey now uncorked.
“What if it gets worse?” River asked weakly.
That question caught him off guard. Technically it was his duty in extreme cases to do what she was asking of him, but he’d been trying his best not to think about that. It certainly could get worse, in fact it almost certainly would.
“If it gets worse then… I’ll do what is necessary to keep the federation intact, whether that means a handover of power, enforcing marshal law or just suppressing riots; but I will not take the power I need to do those things.” Arclight answered, half admitting that he was at least considering the idea.
“That’s… That’s good. Thank you. I’ll see you soon wont I?” She asked quietly, seemingly calmed.
“As soon as you land, madam president.” He reassured her, before the line cut on her end.
The brown-coated pony leaned back in his chair and took a swig of the whiskey which he’d just poured, fortunately having completed his work for the day already. He would have quite liked to meet Emperor Grover, River did say that he seemed like a nice kid back when she was making arrangements with his aunt and uncle. Gabriela and Gerlach were truly lovely when he’d met them in passing too, so it wasn’t a surprise that they’d made good parents and raised a talented son. Well, nephew technically speaking. Didn’t really matter.
Instead he was stuck here. For whatever reason River had saddled him with her paperwork whilst she ‘enjoyed’ the trip to the city of the world’s desire. Really it had been a lose-lose arrangement where neither of them got what they wanted. She would have been much happier quietly trawling through her work and he knew it, but she was the president and he couldn’t be seen taking her place in times like these.
Arclight opened a drawer in his desk and brought out two items, memoirs that he liked to keep around for times like these when whiskey was in hoof; a framed picture and a written copy of the declaration of war that had brought them all here. The picture was of he and River, about fourteen or fifteen years ago when everypony and their mothers were saying that they’d get together. They’d both had much fewer lines under their eyes back then; and he’d been one arrogant bastard. That was probably why nothing had ever happened between them in retrospect, it used to be a more ‘I tolerate you and we share interests so we might as well get along’ type friendship. These days he was much more bearable; he couldn’t help but grin a little, knowing how far he'd come.
The Not-So-Great War the griffons liked to call it. It certainly hadn’t been eventful for them, but it very much had been for him. It had been for everypony in the riverlands. Just after that picture had been taken was when he had forced her out of office in an anti-communist security coup. After that he’d tried to create a series of client states to act as a buffer zone between the griffons and the federation. But no; his younger self didn’t feel secure with just that. He just had to declare war on the resurgent empire.
The declaration was cleverly written, playing off the invasion as a necessary security measure for not just the Riverlands; but the entirety of Griffonia too. There had been some truth in that, though he had been wrong to be worried. Arclight kept the transcript to remind himself of his mistakes and all the ill that they had caused. He remembered having such high hopes for the conflict, which were then dashed within just a few weeks; his forces crushed and his allies in the coalition trampled beneath the Reichswehr for which their own disorganised and overconfident troops were no match. They lost their right to a significant army, lost territory and lost their buffer zone. All they gained were economic woes from lost military investments and mass unrest which didn’t disappear until the rushed federalisation. Even that only really existed for economic reasons to try and prevent a complete financial collapse as coalition states borrowed to try and recover their dwindling economies. Now it came back to bite them as that same rushed system could not provide them political stability, nor could it enact sweeping change across the constituent states when necessary.
He sighed again and drank the rest of his glass in one go, pouring out another in quick succession. He really had deserved to get fired, imprisoned; even court-marshalled and shot for the suffering he had caused. But no. He’d been demoted to an agent, then promoted steadily until he’d reached the top again. Once they’d seen what destruction and death the empire had wrought, which his media had greatly exaggerated for recruitment purposes, ponies started to see things his way. He wasn’t the boisterous anti-empire pony that had gotten hundreds of thousands killed in wars which led to their own economic collapse anymore, but now everypony else was. Nationalists cropped up left right and centre. Not separatists, but anti-griffon racialists; irridentists and Chevalists clamoured for reprisals against the griffons that had so wronged them when he was the one that caused all of this suffering and hatred.
He closed his eyes and gripped the glass tightly, not wanting to look at the alcohol shaking inside his prized crystalware. Deep breaths, deep breaths… Fuck, what was he supposed to do now? Wait till things got worse and be forced to oust the government again? Would he really have to do that?
“Fucking dammit!” He yelled suddenly with a tortured tone, throwing his glass at the wall and watching it shatter into pieces against a bookcase.
Arclight stood and stared at the broken glass, teeth clamped together and eyes wide. Fifteen years of his life spent trying to be better than he used to be, just to be forced into making the same mistake a second time. It would have been comical in its irony if it wasn’t so agonising. He slumped back down at the desk and sighed, hitting a button on the pager to his right.
“My apologies for the noise, can you send up a janitor? Yes, Thank you.”
~*~
Grover lay in his four-poster bed, staring into the ceiling. No bad dreams; that was good. He had half expected Nightmare to torture him in his sleep, though thinking about it she was probably out of the country by now. Teleportation magic performed by an alicorn would be more than capable of bringing her and her husband home before dawn. What a relief.
His alarm sounded a minute-or-so later which he promptly slapped and turned off so that he could lie in peace for a little while longer. Today he would be performing some royal duties officially for the first time, but he needn’t get up for a few more minutes. Besides, he wouldn’t need any introductions to most of the tasks; he had been doing administrative work for his aunt and uncle for years already now, partly in practice and partly to earn some pocket money. He used to not understand why they got him to do little jobs in return for idols; but now that he was older, he realised that they were teaching him the value of idols to the commongriff. He would not be an extravagant emperor, nor a greedy one. He had Gabby and Gerry to thank for that. Mum and d… Uncle. Mum and uncle.
If his second alarm hadn’t gone off just then he would’ve cursed Sombra out loud for reminding him of that little nagging insecurity last night. Grover rolled his eyes to himself and got out of bed, taking off three sheets before he could lay a claw on the lovely carpet that furnished the royal chambers. It was a wonderful room, used by every emperor before him; but it often prompted his mind to think about the clawprints he followed. Maybe he’d ask for a smaller room. That sounded nice.
He’d barely wrangled a morning shirt and a pair of trousers over his plumage when somecreature knocked.
“Breakfast is served Grover, come grab it whenever you’re ready!” Benito’s familiar voice barked out through the heavy wooden chamber doors.
“Just coming!” He nigh-on shouted back.
The golden-feathered griffon barged through the entrance to his room moments later, having to adjust his glasses upon colliding with Benito and hugging him. Standing on his hindclaws was not exactly something the young emperor was an expert at, but it was something he had gotten used to from being around Benito and his compatriots. He still remembered learning to do it, actually.
“Oh! Good morning! Sleep well?” The aged hound managed, almost being winded by the boy’s enthusiasm.
“Very. Went to bed tired, so I slept like a log.” He happily admitted as they started to walk down to the dining room, falling back on all fours to go into stride.
“Hah! Yes, I can imagine; your aunt always came back from parties exhausted. I take it you had fun, trying to keep up with the more experienced partygoers?”
“As much as I could’ve, it’s exhausting.”
“You’ll get used to it, I’m sure. I did sneak a peak into the hall a few times, you seemed to be doing just fine to me.” The old dog gave out, smiling and giving his young friend a pat on the shoulder.
“I… Yeah, thank you.” He returned, hoping that Benito hadn’t seen his brief talk with the Crystal King; he knew that some guests had been looking.
“Congratulations on your first dinner party of many.” His aging friend said simply with a grin.
Hopefully no more with Sombra in attendance.
~*~
Last task of the day, unless anything else reared its ugly head. Benito had mentioned at lunch that the KG, Kaiserlicher Geheimdienst was a mouthful, might have come across something interesting; but he hadn’t looked worried. Hopefully it wasn’t anything bad.
Grover rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock one last time before his guests entered. The economic council were very experienced griffons and some of the oldest members of the Empire’s key institutions at this point. Quite the crowd to please and one that made him particularly nervous as some individuals harkened back to Eros’ brief stint in power. Still, he was prepared. In fact he’d spent a good few weeks getting ready for this particular meeting. What happened here today would define the empire’s economic policy for the immediate future; and he wanted to get it right first try.
Right on cue, the door opposite his chair opened; first revealing Hephaestus III, the archon of Eyr. Whilst he had no influence over government policy, his aunt and uncle had almost entirely secularised the empire by his ascension, the archons were still well-respected figureheads. With Eyr as the god of bounty, prosperity, good harvests and many other such things, his archon had found himself as what was essentially a spokesgriff on economic policy. It wasn’t an intentional result of church reforms, but nocreature had any complaints.
“Your majesty,” He made out, calmly and clearly.
Though they had spoken in the past on several occasions, they weren’t exactly close friends. Unlike those that knew him well, every member of this council bowed deeply before they took their seats at the table. Some he had met, others he had heard of and a good number were entirely new ministers altogether.
Grover sat back in his surprisingly comfy chair as they took their places down the length of the conference table. Let’s see… Hermann Eisenkopf of Reichswaffen and Ceron Greytalon from Krähe-stahl he knew as soon as he saw them; a few others he recognised by name besides. The gold-feathered griff at the table’s head was glad to see so many other regional delegates and even some ponies besides the normal Herzlander griffons. This was the audience he wanted.
They all had an air of nervousness about them, wondering why their emperor had arranged to meet them immediately after his coronation. On top of that, what plans could this child have? They knew he was left-leaning as monarchs went, much like his carers, but a lot of them had never spoken to Grover before, let along held an economic discussion with him. Grover was likewise concerned, partly because he was going to have to speak to them all when he was less than half their mean ages and partly because he wasn’t sure how they would take his proposal.
“Right then. Shall we begin?”
A collective round of ‘ayes’ followed as his majesty stood up and presented a large number of papers. Last inside was an assistant that he has requested, mostly for distributing the files that he was just showing off. It was documentation of current economic statistics as well as a detailed report and plan for the future. About thirty pages long including his own comments.
He could already see some wide eyes as the envelopes were passed around to every member of the council. Some picked up the papers immediately, but he held up a claw until everycreature had their own copy of the proposal.
“Forgive me my liege, but was your coronation not just yesterday? Surely you cannot have compiled a proposal in such a short amount of time.” One griffon gave out in a heavy Wingbardian accent.
“Oh, no. Of course not. These papers are something that I’ve been working on for quite some time, they had been long finished before my birthday. Part of my studies involved writing a critical evaluation on the economy of the empire which is what these papers are largely based on. Of course I would not be so naïve as to only write such myself and so I consulted several renowned economists about both my findings and my writings. One of which, as you might assume, is here with us today. Before you read these, I would like to extend my gratitude to Equity Snowfall for her help in my paper which should be going out to publishers for review in about… Ten minutes.” He gestured to an appropriately white-coated pony that sat some way down the table, who received some applause.
Almost the entire table was surprised at this point. No emperor before him had been quite so independent at this age, which was hardly a surprise considering his upbringing. Gabriela had suggested this kind of power play to assert himself, but he had come up with the routine. Not only had he revealed his competence, but also demonstrated that he wasn’t afraid to challenge the status quo if necessary by relying primarily on a pony instead of a griffon to help him.
“Now, please; take a look.” He added, with the entire table now eagerly ripping into the documents.
Of course, Equity had already most of it; so instead she looked down the table and smile at the emperor, who grinned right back. She looked as pleased with herself as he did.
As they went through the files, he could see a few nods; some muttering and a lot of consulting the numbers that he had provided. Some spoke between each other and some even raised questions to the emperor, who answered them without issue. A little while longer and he calmly stood up again to speak.
“As you can well see from the statistics, perhaps the greatest economic issue that the empire faces today is that of internal integration. Our industry may be innovative, but it is not efficient unless we provide a good supply chain with which to support the appropriate amount of growth for such industries and the underdeveloped markets of certain areas. Those of you who have tried to do business in the north, our clawhold in Equus and the frontier in particular will know just how difficult it is to move goods from one place to another; or indeed that in some places it is outright impossible. Speaking Herzlander is one thing, but being able to reach the Herzland is another altogether. I do not seek to radically change the policies of Gabriela and Gerlach, I merely seek to refine it and properly reintegrate the empire’s old holdings in the process.” He explained with the undivided attention of evercreature present.
“And your proposals for such are detailed here?” Greytalon managed, eager to expand his steelworks to other parts of the country.
“Correct. I’ve split the document by mode of transport. Rail, road, airline as well sea routes and ports. Plans for state rail lines to be used by the public across the nation have been segmented into contracts which can be distributed amongst smaller rail companies are detailed within. Besides those can be found plans for railways for the transport and distribution of goods. The other transport modes are split similarly, with public transport kept broadly separate. Bare in mind that both sides of each transport mode will be connected in case of network faults, however they should be kept mostly apart for the sake of easy administration. Any questions?” The young griff asked, clasping his claws together.
“Do you have a name for this project?” Came the deep voice of Hephaestus, he had to put this in the papers after all.
“Actually, I do: Netzwerkunternehmen. All in favour, raise your appendages as appropriate.” He finished with a warm smile.
As he had hoped, about two thirds of the room raised their claws and hooves. He breathed a very large sigh of relief, seeing no need to hide his relief from those that had just agreed with him.
“Fantastic! My estimates for this project, assuming that we do not utilise any form of mass mobilisation to complete it, are about five to seven years. We will prioritise the areas of the network with secondary military applications in the hopes that, should war come, we will be ready and waiting. I am trusting this council to work in their utmost to achieve that goal, if not exceed it; but I will still require a meeting with you all present at least once every month, preferably once every fortnight. You may use the rest of this time to discuss amongst yourselves your concerns; or anything else you deem relevant.” He finished, letting the discussion go on and taking a few more questions.
Some griffons asked him about economic ramifications of investing in the railway should the project not yield results, others wanted to know about potential ticket prices and one of the ponies even asked whether there would be tariffs on subject states using the rail line. All questions were dealt with quickly and Grover finally relaxed back in his chair once more as talks continued before him.
He felt as though he had a semblance of control again, after last night.
Author's Note
Kaiserlicher Geheimdienst -> Imperial secret service
Got help from a German friend for these so blame him if they're not quite right.
Oh boy, the federation is exploding and Grover is balling. I felt as though it was neccessary (if not something I will look to repeat) to demonstrate Grover's competence in some aspects of governance for the future so that his decisions and ability seem grounded when he has to make potentially tough political choices. Probably not the most interesting chapter, but things are moving along.
As always, hope you all enjoyed.
Chapter 4: The Interrupted Thoughts
The Crystal King grunted and stepped down to stretch. Hours of experimenting with new and innovative methods of mind control and corruption could easily take a toll on him, not least because he was also trying to focus on maintaining his constantly-active casts.
Much as he didn’t like to admit it, Sombra’s magical potential was not limitless. Taking over the Crystal Empire with only a few hundred-thousand soldiers under his direct command was one thing, but trying to be in control of the minds of seventy million ponies was realistically impossible. That was why, after his marriage and several months of less-than-careful research, he had developed an effective substitute.
He loathed the concept that individuals without the ability to take power for themselves should be able to participate in affairs of national importance. Those who had the strength to lead would take their place at the top, as he had. However, those without the ability to govern still had free will. That was where his first innovation had taken him, the complete removal of choice and self-awareness by subsuming the minds of his subjects with his own directly. This was effective, but tiring and unrealistic for a state as large and populous as Equestria-Crystalia.
Instead they now relied on a slightly different solution. He had invented a new kind of mass-magic, one with the power to keep a nation stable without completely draining him of strength. It was a kind of suggestive power. Those affected by the spell described it as though they had developed a second conscience or a form of latent schizophrenia which slowly and quietly encouraged them to assist their overlords, something that screamed whenever they did anything illegal. In essence, it was watered-down mind control.
He never would have had the idea for it if Nightmare hadn’t convinced him that ponies could simply be manipulated instead of entirely under control en masse to quell the threat of individuality. He had certainly married well, hadn’t he?
This new spell, one that he was still refining even after it had been used for many years by now, affected about fifty million of the seventy-five million ponies under his rule. With more adjustments he estimated that the number would increase to about sixty million within the next year or so. It was limited by distance and by magical capacity by extension, but there were always more efficient ways to craft magic such as this. He’d even addended an aftereffect of sorts, allowing the control to persist for a day or two if he needed to sleep or be outside of Canterlot for small stretches of time. That was how he had been able to visit Grover for his Coronation and, presumably, caused their intelligence department even more headaches than his immense abilities already did.
“Dear me, you look exhausted. Any luck with your little project here?” A familiar voice asked from just behind him.
Preoccupied with thoughts on his work, he hadn’t noticed Nightmare sauntering up from behind him. Or had she teleported? Really, he didn’t know. She must have been watching him for a minute or so at least, given her expression.
“No, not just yet I’m afraid. I was finishing up for the night.” The black-grey unicorn admitted with a tired look on his face.
Having to renew a spell so powerful and broad after a day and a half of its disuse was as demanding as the scale implied, it was no surprise that Sombra was exhausted after such a feat. He’d recover his energy slowly over the next few days, hopefully without incident.
“I could feel you falling asleep from Manehatten. Time for bed?” The alicorn asked with a slight tilt of the head and a chuckle.
“That sounds marvellous,” He responded with a weak smile of his own, rubbing his head and his horn for a moment now been reminded of how much both ached.
Nightmare calmly plodded over to her partner and wrapped one of her wings around him. He must have a splitting headache, a thought that was confirmed by a piece of paper with ‘HEADACHE’ written in red pinned up just by his desk. Clearly that was something he was trying to solve.
She rolled her eyes and laughed, “Here, allow me.”
Rather than the usual solitary teleportation that Sombra was used to for travelling around the palace, the pair of them blinked up to the bedroom standing next to one another. He was quite clearly not in any way to be using his magic unless he absolutely had to. At least renewing the spell tomorrow would be far less detrimental.
“Much obliged my dear,” He returned, gently parting from her wing with a little chuckle of his own.
The night’s consort leapt up onto the bed and plodded over to his side, before nearly collapsing onto the sheets. He hadn’t realised just how exhausted he was until his wife came and tore him away from his musings. She always knew when he was tired, thought that wasn’t much of a surprise.
The alicorn followed suit, though sitting up on the bed and removing her armour with telekinesis in preparation for sleep. It was still early, but they could both use the rest today.
The Crystal King turned his head, grunting as his horn caught on one of the pillows. “Sweetheart, may I be brutally honest with you for a moment?”
“Of course, go on.” She came back calmly, rolling over and looking at her partner with a raised eyebrow.
This was unusual. Sombra wasn’t much for thinking past his own snout most of the time. The means justified the ends, the ends were a conquest of the world much like hers and that was that. Surely, he wasn’t having doubts now. Maybe he was only conflicted because he was so worn out, or perhaps that state of mind had spawned the thought.
“I can’t rule the world.”
Nightmare just stared for a good while, wide-eyed and astounded. “W-What?”
He hadn’t heard his wife stutter in a very long time.
“Nightmare, I can barely maintain my magic with things as they are. I hate to disappoint you, as would anypony hate to disappoint their partner but… Well, you know it’s true. Even at its maximum possible extent this spell won’t be able to affect the entire country and it already takes an extreme toll on my body; you can see as much. I-“ Sombra began, trying to explain before burying his head in his pillows for a moment.
Saying that he couldn’t rule the world was potentially a little misleading, but it was really was true in the way that he meant it. Whilst his ability to fight wars, know the tolerance of his thralls’ bodies and the like would never disappear, he was limited. They might conquer the world, but how would they keep it without the control that he was so familiar with? Their iron grip over the empire relied mostly on Sombra whilst his wife ran the administration itself and the more specialised parts of the army. He could continue to control Equestria-Crystalia, but he was right to say that the world was beyond his magical grasp; at least from a practical standpoint.
His head emerged from the fabric again, now very much awake and seemingly terrified. “What will we have when all is said and done? A planetwide empire that has no ears for our commands, twenty million conscripts, another twenty million dead ex-conscripts and a celebration whilst everything burns? I’ll only live for another sixty years at most and-“
Before he could say any more he found that a hoof was pressed firmly but gently over his mouth. Nightmare was looking at him with as comforting a smile as she could manage. Immediately he sighed, took some deep breaths and began to take off his royal attire by hoof.
Some comfort, any at all would have been appreciated, but neither could really make an effort to do anything of substance. It was a hard truth that they had both been avoiding. So much of what they had planned to do was just… Impossible, at least by traditional means; meanwhile the griffons held a monopoly on all the innovative methods of exerting supranational influence.
Sombra’s crown hit the metal chest plate that he had taken off moments before and he rolled back over on the bed. All they could do was stare at each other, neither knew what to say to the other ancient creature.
“Do you still want to try?” the Crystal King asked, visibly disgruntled.
Nightmare blinked and looked over, “I do. It is our duty and our privilege to protect and convince the ignorant masses of their blind folly. Whether they accept it or not, we must try.”
He didn’t want spend his latter years watching all he had built crumble into dust.
~*~
Nightmare lay there, completely awake. In her hooves Sombra had snuggled up and into her chest, his horn laying on her neck and pressing down on it slightly.
She ran a careful hoof down through his dark mane every once in a while, knowing that he wouldn’t wake up and needing something to occupy her mind. Of course she had made well sure that he couldn’t rise from his slumber just yet, not until he had gotten a full nine hours of rest; it was the least that she could do to try and keep her dearest unicorn in one piece.
And yet, she couldn’t fall asleep. It didn’t matter that there was a handsome and wonderful stallion resting ever-so-peacefully between her legs, that the world was silent from up here in the towers of Canterlot palace or that she was really quite tired herself.
All she could think about was whether her husband was right.
That in and of itself wasn’t the issue of course, he was right a lot of the time; but the subject of this particular analysis made his potential correctness immensely distressing. They had ruled this empire for a decade and a half now, but if the moves made by resistance groups during the great war were any indication the desire to be ‘free’ hadn’t gone anywhere.
They couldn’t win as things were. Perhaps they could mind control Grover and those he cared about with some work, but the KG undoubtedly had plans for that and they might be worse for the world than he was. What were they to do when all odds were stacked against them? The griffons were too nationalistic to really engage with any kind of propaganda or to work with her in starting a revolution like the one that had nearly crippled their weak monarchy prior. Even established groups in Aquileia that were known to contain many thousands of members outright refused to shake hooves with her. She could understand the sentiment, even if it frustrated her; Nightmare was never blinded by the rage she felt.
Her musings were interrupted when she felt Sombra shifting about slightly, face seemingly pained as his head turned. It wasn’t a nightmare but it wasn’t a nice dream either, one she’d seen before and not interrupted; maybe fixing it for him would take her mind off of things.
The Empress’ horn glowed and she closed her eyes.
Sweet moon above it was grey. Everything was that same colour, or at least shades of it. Just looking around was uncomfortable for how washed out and decrepit the world seemed without the presence of any colour whatsoever. She looked down at her hooves for a moment whilst adjusting; at least she still had a hue.
Canterlot, it was supposed to be at least. Aside from the lack of colour there was a colossal stone wall that stood between where they stood, one of the main roads, and where the palace would normally be. Her husband was standing before the wall; his horn, eyes and red cape emanating the only colour she could see besides her own.
Sauntering his way, she could understand why he had looked so suddenly unnerved in bed. “I should have come to help you through these sooner.”
“Mmm. Hello darling.”
A lucid dreamer. Well, he was arguably the most powerful unicorn to ever exist; it was hardly surprising even if this wasn’t his area of expertise.
“Is this a memory?” She asked, already knowing the answer as she slid a wing over him again.
“A manifestation of my conscious state of mind in my subconscious, I think. I’ve had this one before, a couple of times. You would know.”
That she would.
“And your conscious state of mind is…”
“Blocked? Stopped? Trapped? I don’t know, I’m not a therapist.” He answered with a slight snarl, catching Nightmare briefly off guard.
Something to do with their earlier dilemma, probably. She was no more qualified to analyse this sort of thing than he was, even if she’d spent a lot of time in the minds of other ponies at night.
“I used to have this dream sometimes, whilst wallowing in my banishment. I would run headfirst at the wall, try to dig under it or climb over it. When I returned, I didn’t dream for a long time. Years, maybe more.” He went on, realising that he needed some kind of catharsis.
Nightmare stayed silent, looking to the side in order to meet his eyes; but they were locked forward, staring at the grey mass of apparently impregnable rock. He looked like he wanted to gaze back at her, but couldn’t.
“I never felt the need to look behind me then, look away from achieving victory over the crystal ponies and their weak friends. Then it was repelling Chrysalis, then those socialists… Always something else to do. Now it’s the griffons, but I feel it’s different this time. The wall is… It’s still here, thicker than ever.” He continued, blinking repeatedly and gritting his fangs.
“So, what now?” The alicorn asked softly.
His anger changed from anger to confusion and then to terror. “I don’t know.”
In an instant the scene changed. She didn’t want her partner to be thinking about this; no sane mare would want her husband to be dreaming about their waking fears. Now they were on a grassy turn of a river, beneath a willow tree and the stars. Everything was coloured, flourishing under the night.
Sombra sighed and finally looked up at his partner before kissing her, an offer of sorts that she didn’t hesitate to take. He dreaded that dream now. He knew she could feel that fear.
“We’ll find a way past your wall dearest; I promise.” She gave out after a minute, stroking his mane once more.
“Thank you. I love you Nightmare.” He managed in response.
She licked his snout affectionately and smiled, “I love you too.”
Was he really relying on hope, like his old foes did? It hadn’t gone very well for them.
~*~
Rarity carefully put hoof to stone as she exited the train carriage.
Dodge City wasn’t beautiful or well looked after in these times, but it was far enough south of Canterlot that Sombra’s velvet glove didn’t reach it. She could see as much from the way everypony trotted around; not joyously like they used to, but lacking any semblance of uniformity. Cities like these were the last refuge of ponies free to think without his influence, even if such didn’t make them any happier.
She didn’t know how she had managed to order train tickets specifically to get away from Ponyville, to go somewhere where their will wasn’t quietly encouraged. His magic was supposed to prevent that sort of thing.
Maybe she’d just been lucky.
“Ticket please m… ma’am.” One of the stallions working the gates asked, stuttering and staring a little when he looked at her.
“One moment, darling.”
She fumbled with the zipper on her handbag before reaching in and bringing out her ticket, hoof shaking a little. He took it, looked at it, nodded and handed it back again after she had plodded slowly through the gate.
“Have a good day ma’am.” He added weakly, probably in an attempt to apologise for his reaction.
Deep breaths. She couldn’t expect ponies not to react like that, it was natural. She sighed, swallowed and kept going.
Some lunch would take her mind off of things, even if it wouldn’t stop ponies from staring when they saw her. Was it really that bad? What in Celestia’s name was she doing here? Why hadn’t she just stayed back home where she could live quietly and-
“R-Rarity?” A deep voice asked from just on her right, somecreature at a high street stall that she’d been too preoccupied to pay attention to.
In an instant she stopped and started, almost scared to look. Who would recognise her all the way out here? Why was the voice strangely familiar? It took what felt like an age for her to turn and see where the polite question had originated from.
Her voice quivered as she finally spoke, “Spike?”
If it hadn’t been for the way he spoke and the distinctive purple-green colouration of his scales, Rarity might not have even known who it was. The last time she had spoken to Twilight’s little helper had been what… A decade ago? More actually, if she remembered rightly.
“Uh… Hi? Sorry I just… Do I shake your hoof? Hug you? I don’t really…” The twenty-six-year-old dragon stammered out, gingerly putting a stack of food on the floor.
Sweet Celestia how he’d grown, in muscle mass as well as height. He’d only been a young teenager back then, tall-ish and lanky, before everything fell apart for the Mane Six and their dragon friend by extension. What should she say to him? What could she say?
Rarity shook her head a little and forced something out, “I… I’m sorry. Oh sun above I’m sorry Spike, I’m so sorry…”
The mare plodded solemnly towards him, she could hardly even look at her old friend after all these years. She hadn’t written, hadn’t ever tried to get in contact, hadn’t made the slightest effort to see him or anypony else after her conscription term was up. She'd been too scared to even try.
Spike, for his part, reacted with confusion first; before realising and feeling what she felt himself. After that he took a few steps forward and wrapped his massive arms around the poor pony, who was almost too weak to reciprocate. Almost.
“It’s okay, it’s okay… I… Celestia, I’m sorry too… It’s not your fault Rarity, none of us are to blame; though I imagine that… That probably doesn’t count for much. I should have tried to send a telegram or… I don’t know, something…” He managed in response, having equally mixed feelings.
She was on the verge of sobbing, but managed to stay in one piece; if only barely. They’d both missed so much of each other’s lives and neither knew exactly how to express the elation at finding one another again whilst enduring that reality being pushed in their faces.
He hadn’t the slightest idea how to comfort Rarity anymore, or at least he assumed that his old antics wouldn’t do much to help. He just stared past her mane into the brickwork of the marketplace they were in for a little while, ignoring the strange looks that the pair of them were getting.
As it sounded like she was about to cry again he closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and began to slowly stroke her coast with his massive claws; careful to avoid her shattered horn and the silver part-mask that covered the eye which wasn’t buried in his scales.
He would have recognised her no matter what, he hadn’t spent his early years infatuated with this unicorn for nothing, but the dragon wondered just what had happened. Had she been tortured? Conscripted? Probably conscripted. He’d barely even registered the injuries at first, seeing only her hair and her cutie mark until she was right up close to him. That was mostly thanks to what must have been a deliberate hairstyle choice to cover the unhealed wounds as best she could. It would have been inappropriate to ask about them now anyway, that could wait. It wasn’t as though they made her any less identifiable, or pretty. He cursed himself for thinking about that right of all things now, he shouldn’t even-
“Th-thank you Spike… Oh goodness… I’m so sorry, for being absent…” She gave out, managing to stave off the intense emotions again with his help.
He sighed, relieved that this wasn’t weird for her; after all what was he supposed to do in a situation like this? “So am I, it’s okay… It’s alright, I’m just… I’m happy to see you.”
He could feel her slowly nodding and smiled a little, comforted slightly because whatever he was doing clearly helped in some way.
Now that Spike could think a little more clearly, he noticed that there were several bits of her white coat that were less uniform. The patches were very small in most places, but became more concentrated up to her neck and assumedly peaked in severity behind that stylish mask. Was it burn damage? Scar tissue, certainly; but from what? He silently prayed to Celestia again that she wouldn’t hate him for asking later.
They had to stay stuck together like that for a few minutes longer. He realised that trying to cheer both of them up was less important than just sharing that intense and admittedly confusing feeling. Was hugging for this long weird? Probably. Was it necessary for the both of them? Most likely. They could wait a little while, everypony else was capable of putting up with them.
“Would you… Should we catch up over lunch or something? I’m not sure-“ He offered timidly, not really certain of what to say now.
Rarity let out a slightly pained chuckle as spike leased his surprisingly gentle grip, “I’d… I’d like that Spike, darling. Do you… Ahem, sorry; do you know anywhere nice?” She managed, clearing her throat and smiling.
He might sound imposing, but even after all this time his speech was infirm as it always used to be; back when things were simpler. The Spike she once knew was still in there. Even if she didn’t know what remained of him and what didn’t, it was comforting. He was probably thinking about her scars now, but she appreciated the fact that he’d looked more nervous than taken aback. Probably hadn’t even noticed the damage at first. Maybe less had changed than she thought.
Author's Note
This chapter took a couple of go-overs. Originally I was going to include Grover here, but I needed more time to properly establish Sombra's internal conflict whilst also introducing another (probably the last, four is a lot) plot thread.
Speaking of, I've never written established MLP characters before. Yes it's a little terrifying, yes I'm going to keep going.
What happened to rarity I wonder?
Chapter 5: The Passing of the Torch
“Your Imperial Majesty,” a familiar voice called out, just after a rap on his study door.
“Come in, Benito. Sorry, I’m still sorting out admin work here; I hope it’s not a bother.”
The hound smiled and walked into the room, though not alone. This was an all-important meeting for the future of two different institutions within the empire, but Grover wasted no time between this and other visits of equal import. By the sounds of it he could certainly be a little more prepared for this moment in particular. The hound heard him hurriedly arranging his papers and searching his desk for some potentially relevant documents upon their arrival.
“Your Highness,”
“My liege,”
Two almost-new voices exclaimed through their bows as they entered the study in front of their superior; then sitting opposite their emperor. In truth Grover had known of both of them for some time, but had only observed them briefly and for professional purposes. He’d never spoken to either of them face-to-face, even if he had intended to.
To his left was Gnawer, a diamond dog without a surname that had escaped slavery in Diamond Mountain during the Not-So-Great War along with many others; but had also joined the army almost immediately after the fact. She had rapidly risen through the ranks of the armed forces, catching the eye of many specialised units including the royal marines and several paratrooper regiments. According to her papers, she had consistently turned down offers of promotion until she was picked up by the royal guard, which she joined as soon as the offer was proposed. Far from just a dedicated dog, she apparently stated that she owed a life debt to the royal family that had set her free; wishing to serve them as directly as possible.
One look at her piercing green eyes and another at the scars that peaked onto her neck through her armour told Grover all he needed to know. Gnawer wasn’t just skilled as her file told him, but utterly devoted; she lacked some social skills, but she would learn to lead in time. Not the perfect candidate to take Benito’s place as the captain of the royal guard, but he had assured the boy that she had the potential to be a greater officer than he was. Benito was always right in the end.
To his right was, of all things, a changeling. Thranx had briefly spent time in the empire assisting the Archon as part of the Changeling-Griffonian Attache before the Duke and Duchess had reclaimed Griffenheim. He had assumed that he would either be sent home or executed on learning that his efforts had been for naught, but Gerlach had other ideas. The Silent Duke had correctly assessed his unwillingness to return to the hives, partly out of fondness for the locals but also because the ling assumed Chrysalis would punish him and his commander for their failure to protect the archon.
Instead he had offered Thranx and Synovial, the ling’s commanding officer in the capital, full protection in their care if they chose to join their ranks. Synovial opted to return home, but was courteous enough to claim that his subordinate had died defending the capital. Amazingly Chrysalis believed this lie and condemned the Duke and Duchess for their takeover as a result whilst the officer remained alive and well in hiding for several years. He stayed in the army for a few years more, before Gabriela persuaded him to join the KG as an operative. Ever since he had been and still was widely regarded as reliable and dedicated to the empire that had given him a second chance, much like his dogged companion. He was now to be promoted to the head of the KG, an office which Benito was also forfeiting in his resignation that was would happen about… Well, about now.
“Please, call me Grover. You’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on, there’s no need to be formal; I’m not sure I could take it for too long if you were.” The gold-feathered griffon requested immediately, waving a dismissive claw.
The older diamond dog laughed a little and smiled, “Now, whilst I won’t be leaving the palace for some time yet; these two will be taking over the vast majority of my official duties, as I know you’re already aware. There will be a public inauguration ceremony of sorts for Gnawer and an internal agency celebration for Thranx here.”
“Sir, an event really isn’t necessary.” The soon-to-be head of the imperial guard exclaimed quickly, glancing at the emperor for a moment after speaking.
“Benito has served the empire longer than my father did, Gnawer. It’s as much a celebration of your promotion as it is one of his long and much appreciated term in the guard; that I’m sure you can understand.” The emperor explained with a slight smile.
“Mmm. I see,” she gave out with a light sigh.
“Oh come on, snout up a little! I know you’re not the most talkative of creatures, but you can surely make it through one evening. Grover will be there as will the rest of the guard. It’ll be more than bearable, trust me. Besides, if you’re going to be captain then you’ll need to practice your charisma a little, won’t you?” Thranx offered, giving his friend of several years a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
The Emperor of Griffonkind certainly knew what it felt like to be out of one’s depth in such circumstances. It was honestly quite strange, seeing a situation similar to his own in many ways with the dog in front of him who was quite some years older than he was. Hopefully they could both grow out of their inhibitions.
“You’re quite right. I should see this as an opportunity rather than an annoyance, though it will be somewhat challenging for me.”
The changeling smiled and cocked his head slightly, “That’s what I like to hear. Always grab life by the horn, eh?”
Very strange friends, those two were. It was a little like watching a brick and a window get along.
“Right then. I should give you this, Grover. My official letter of resignation, two weeks’ notice; everything should be in order.” Benito finally gave out with a slight chuckle.
The emperor took the letter, a little slower than he had been intending to. He looked at the envelope, opened it with a talon, skimmed the notice and nodded. The boy rubbed his eyes and sat silently for a moment, wondering to himself if he was really ready for Benito to give him yet more autonomy. He felt so tired all of a sudden, how much sleep had he lost these last few days?
“I’ll always be nearby, don’t worry.” The hound added in an effort to calm the young griffon.
Grover nodded and smiled after a few seconds longer, “Congratulations on your retirement,”
“Thank you,”
“And congratulations to both of you on your promotions, Captain Gnawed and KG Director Thranx. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” The gold-feathered griffon added with a touch of optimism on his beak in spite of his worries.
“As you wish Grover,” she growled back in assent.
“I assume I’m not allowed to talk to tell my partner about my work?” The changeling asked, half in jest and half with complete sincerity.
The emperor raised an eyebrow at him, which made Benito laugh and created a smirk on Gnawer’s usually stony maw. Thranx grimaced, thinking he had overestimated his liege’s patience for fun and games and expecting some sort of reprimand.
Instead the surprise shifted into a smile as Grover placed his talons firmly on the table, “You are well aware of agency policy, I’ll leave it up to you as to whether you want to put yourself, your significant other and your job at risk. You’re the director, after all; I hardly need tell you how to conduct yourself.” His majesty retorted with a slight smirk.
“Point taken,” He returned, sighing and visibly relaxing. “I meant no offence,” Thranx added quickly whilst his friend barely contained a chuckle.
“And none was taken,”
They both laughed a little then. Benito couldn’t help but feel proud that he was shaping up to be such a well-respected ruler already, but one that could still handle a joke. Maybe he wouldn’t need to be around the palace much longer.
“Gnawer, I trust you can handle visiting the royal tailor for a new uniform?” The old dog motioned to the younger hound.
His prior subordinate stood up slowly and answered plainly, “Of course.”
“Then you are dismissed,”
“Sir,”
She left the room with a sense of purpose in her off-duty walk; her vacant seat filled moments later by the dog she was succeeding. Grover looked now at some documents that Thranx had brought with him from the agency offices which were now half-strewn across his desk.
The look on Benito’s face had slowly transitioned from quiet pride to concern, which itself was worrying for the young emperor. “There is one last item we need to discuss with you Grover. Do you remember a week or so ago when I mentioned that the KG had found something interesting?”
~*~
“Now, the rail lines that your uncle and aunt built for the short-lived Greifkönig Handelsvertrag are mostly disused these days; however there has been a noticeable uptake in their operation in the south. Part of the peace treaty signed with the river coalition, re-ratified upon the federalisation of the Riverlands, stipulates the free movement of creatures between our borders. We suspect that the frontiergriffs, instead of simply forking over their weapons to our amnesty programs, are selling their previously legal firearms to still-legal private dealers to get a few idols. These dealers, now with a massive influx of weaponry, need somewhere to sell their massive stockpiles. That’s not nearly as doable in the empire anymore, but the River Federation has no qualms with the import, distribution and sale of personal firearms. See where I’m going with this?” Thranx went on, the emperor enthralled in what was essentially a presentation.
No royal briefing was complete without the appropriate pictures of course, and the newly promoted changeling enjoyed a good map; even though it really wasn't necessary for the young griffon.
“Would I be correct in guessing that these private companies are now moving the firearms into the Riverlands using these rail lines and selling the weapons there?” the griffon asked slowly whilst needlessly reviewing the carefully drawn up pieces.
“Exactly. The OHS has been keeping tabs on these shipments and have found that many of these ex-frontier guns have ended up in the hooves of nationalist groups and paramilitaries. No surprises there, cheap imported products are just as popular now as they were when they crashed the Federation’s economy.”
“But if we further clamp down on the frontier then we’ll be the ones dealing with riots,” Benito noted, interjecting to remind Grover that reprimanding this behaviour would have consequences.
Thranx nodded and looked again at the documents they had collated before continuing, “Correct. If we try to influence the economics of the frontier any more than your internal integration project already has, at least in their eyes, there will be incredible backlash. For regional stability, the KG advises that you allow the export to continue.”
“Makes sense. How many weapons will be sold over the next few months, roughly?”
“Depending on the statistics of griff gun ownership you choose to use, anywhere between two-hundred thousand and one-and-a-half million private firearms may find themselves in very angry hooves across the border. We’ll keep track of the sales and make more accurate estimates within the week,” The ling finished with a distinctive grimace.
Grover had to lean back in his chair at that and take a moment to think. The frontier had suffered immeasurably under the reign of King Kloseau, a griffon so devoid of emotion and remorse that he had gone as far as to publicly hang his own son for committing to democratic reform of his monarchy. It was no surprise that the area didn’t want to hand over any sort of power to the central government and only relinquished their weapons when offered with an economic incentive from local businesses. Many griffons there were as destitute as they were distrustful.
Nevertheless such an inordinate number of weapons, though they were not military grade, was immensely concerning. A direct buyback was not an option, since that would only encourage the frontier to create makeshift weapons for a quick idol and again would make the state seem overbearing. There was little way to deal with them on this side of the border. On this side of the border. That was when something clicked.
“If we funded a buyback project in the Federation, could they take responsibility for the weapon shipments instead? That would alleviate the stress on the frontier whilst achieving the same end goal,” The emperor asked tentatively.
“It could work, if the money doesn’t disappear into the pockets of their politicians who can’t see past their own snouts. Any ideas Thranx?”
Ah, of course. The River Federation was falling apart, not helped by the politicians and bureaucrats who used the existing institutions to enrich themselves rather than to govern.
The ling thought for a moment before raising a proposal, “We could liaise with the OHS and have them pose as buyers for the shipments whilst we provide the appropriate funding. That would probably be a more reliable method of keeping the weapons in check; Arclight and his organisation are likely one of the few institutions left with almost no corruption.”
“That’s a better plan,” Grover decided almost immediately.
Thranx smiled and bowed slightly, looking happy with himself. It was an obvious plan really once he had considered it, but then he had turned out to be an incredibly talented operative. His emperor meanwhile had to manage all aspects of the empire over which he ruled, which was a feat in and of itself even without considering how young he was. The changeling forgot sometimes that he was only eighteen with all this responsibility; but it was a great personal pride that such a busy griffon was happy to delegate important responsibilities to him.
“Have you ever met Arclight?” Benito asked all of a sudden.
“A good few years ago now; but yes. Back when he was first reinstated as head of the OHS I remember that he visited my uncle and aunt to formally apologise for his mistakes. I know now that they were also making some arrangements for agency cooperation, but I remember him mostly as… Quiet and respectful, which is rather strange in retrospect.” The gold-feathered griff answered, remembering some six years of his life it must have been now.
“What say the pair of you meet, along with Thranx? I think such a visit would be appropriate for him to meet with the new director alone, but also so that you two can finally have a proper chat with one another. I imagine he has a lot to say to you,” He offered after a moment, his tail slowly wagging back and forth.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” the changeling agreed.
Grover also nodded with a smile, “It would be my pleasure.”
~*~
“How’d you do?” She asked, not wanting to press to hard just in case.
He read over the paper slip again and sighed, “Not great. I didn’t get the grades I would have needed for Brumia; or even for Romau. Actually, I wasn’t even close.”
The two friends, sat on a park bench in the middle of one of Griffenheim’s limited number of protected parks, were comparing their first mock exam results for their last year before university. Greta made a face somewhere between surprise and sadness, before leaning over and hugging her now mopey companion.
“Hey, it’s okay. They’re not the real thing, don’t worry yourself about it. Even if they end up using the next lot of mocks for the grades we send off to university you can still take a year out and apply with your final grades instead. You’ve got plenty of time.” She gave out, muffled slightly by his feathers.
“Thanks. Fuck, my mum is going to kill me though.” He returned, managing to smile slightly as she drew away.
“Nah, you’ll be fine.”
“You do realise that she’s only as nice as she is when you’re around because she likes you right?”
“What, are you using me to skive off making dinner?”
That made them both laugh. Seb was always glad to have his friend around in times like this, pivotal moments in one’s life did tend to require at least a little council after all.
“Hey, there he is!” She called out suddenly, pointing across the park with an eager claw.
He stared over the grass, large pond and some trees to catch a glimpse. “Kept us waiting, huh?”
“Oh come off it, he literally runs the entire empire whilst we’re just getting our grades. I think he’s more than allowed to be fifteen minutes late.”
They chuckled and watched as one of assumedly many cars in the royal fleet pulled into a space in the car park. As usual it was also closely followed by what was essentially an armoured van in matte black, which contained the appropriate members of the royal guard. Grover often said that he would have preferred for them not to come along, but it was probably a good idea to keep them around. Better to lack a small amount of privacy than to be shot and all that.
At the very least he had demanded that dismounting from the car be much less of a process than it had originally been. Before he had to wait for the guards to come and get him and so on, but now they watched as he calmly got out him and began to stride over to them with two guards in front and the rest in tow. Eight in total, as was the norm. The met here every week usually, sometimes went shopping or out to get food; the kronprinz had always paid, obviously. Even if they wanted to he objected to the idea that they should be paying for things when they were students. Noble, if occasionally annoying. There were usually more of them but most were off visiting their relatives, working or scouting out university residences. Today it was just Greta and Sebastian.
“Hey, are we supposed to bow now? Y’know, now that he’s emperor and all.” He asked quietly, though for no particular reason.
“We were always supposed to bow before as well, feather-brain. Though, it would be pretty funny if we did it now.”
“He would hate it,”
“Exactly,”
They both grinned at each other and got up off of the bench as their childhood friend practically marched over to them. They could already see him rolling his eyes as they bowed deeply for their new emperor.
“Your Majesty,” they both exclaimed loudly, though not quite at the same time.
“Oh shut it,” He gave out, immediately plodding up to Greta and hugging her tightly.
All three of them laughed as the guards made a quasi-perimeter around them. Grover did say that they should let other griffons through, but they wouldn’t take any chances. Seb’s surprisingly tight hold came next, which he was grateful for; he did need some good hugging.
“How was the coronation?” He asked quickly, even though he had of course been watching the whole thing in person.
The emperor grinned and let him go, “Nerve-racking, but pretty cool actually. What about your exams?”
“Pretty disappointing, to be honest.”
“Oh, you did fine!” Greta insisted as they went back to sit on the bench.
He jokingly rolled his eyes and handed his grade slip gingerly over to Grover, “I didn’t get the grades I wanted.”
“Hey, you’re not that far off though.” He gave out whilst reading.
“That’s what I said,”
“No you didn’t!”
“I implied that with what I said.” The griffoness half-rescinded with a huff.
The golden-feathered griffon laughed and handed back the paper as they began to bicker. He’d had to miss the last week’s meetup for coronation prep, which was an unfortunate necessity. Given his schedule, he might have to miss next week’s as well. He tuned out their conversation for a moment as he thought about how much lonelier things were becoming. Not that he had nocreature to talk to of course, more the fact that he had to spend his time around mostly other adults who were a lot older than he was; meanwhile his close friends were all getting ready for the new lives they had chosen themselves. That was without mentioning the fact that he would probably be seeing Benito a lot less as time went on. Maybe he should-
“Hey, Grover, you okay?” Sebastian asked loudly.
He'd zoned out completely.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah; sorry. I’m just a little tired.” He managed with a believable smile.
“Ah okay, no worries. You want to get something to eat?
The emperor smiled and sat up, “Absolutely.”
Author's Note
Greifkönig Handelsvertrag - Griffking Trade Treaty
JUST GROVER. JUST GROVER. JUST GROVER.
I would just like to extend my thanks to Eltirions for kindly forking over the resources with which I constructed the image in this fic. His incredibly hard work also enabled the map that I'm currently using as my cover art. He's a great guy and makes fantastic fics himself, so go and check him out if you haven't already.
That'll be all for this week, we do a little national shenanigan. Hope y'all enjoy.
Chapter 6: The Beginning of an End
“‘… with Hippogriffia in chaos and its neighbours unwilling to help what they see as a bourgeois regime; time will only tell whether they keep alight their regional beacon of harmony and liberty. Experts are citing the activities of leftist Riverland and Equestrian expatriates as the primary cause of the rebellion, much like those that are thought to have been behind revolutions similarly sparked across northern Zebrica. Hundreds of confirmed casualties-‘“
“That’s quite enough, thank you.” Arclight managed with his head firmly planted in one of his hooves, he would rather not have been reminded of his many failures right now.
“Sorry boss, just keeping you up to date like you asked.” A very nervous agency worker responded.
“I’m caught up now, make yourself scarce. I’m going to go and get a coffee.”
Paper Crane nodded and practically sprinted out of his boss’ office. It had been a very bad idea to bring this to him so early in the day, even if he had asked to be informed as soon as possible. The earth pony groaned and stood up, tired in spite of his long sleep and substantial breakfast which he didn’t normally have time for. Just a wonderful start to his day.
Soon enough he was out of the agency wing and into one of the senatorial side rooms that contained a café. Why they had decided to attach the headquarters of the OHS the building that housed the federation’s upper house of representatives was anypony’s guess, but it made getting a decent coffee easier. That at least he was thankful for.
With brew in hoof and a copy of the day’s newspaper that Paper had been reading from just a few minutes prior, he could take in the news in peace. The article that he’d been rattling off from hadn’t much more to say. Government in tatters, leadership divided and military split whilst the masses marched through the streets, intent getting rid of all three of the former institutions. There were a few names listed as participating expatriates, but one in particular caught his eye: Caramel Haze. He’d been one of the original revolutionaries from a decade-and-a-half ago that had encouraged his coup. How in Tartarus had he ended up in Hippogriffia?
“Alright, sixteen-million bits; accounting for inflation.”
“Mmm. That’s more like it, you have a deal. Have your ponies call my ponies and we’ll slip this privatisation past River, she’ll be none the wiser.”
He didn’t have time to think about what some old revolutionary was doing, it seemed. If he hadn’t been holding up the paper and inadvertently obscuring his face from these two senators they might not have been speaking so liberally about their abuse of power. Arclight lowered the tabloid and stared intently at the pair of them, who noticed him quickly. One almost dropped his beverage, whatever it was, but the other seemed unphased and sauntered towards him. Goldhoof. The agency suspected that he had been doing shady business using his position for some time now, but as of yet they hadn’t been able to pin him for anything with sufficient evidence. This would be quite an interesting conversation.
“Director Arclight, a pleasure as always. I take it that you heard our conversation?” The unicorn asked with his usually present self-confidence.
The pony in question got up to shake his hoof with a scowl that could melt ice, “Goldhoof, I can’t say I feel the same way. I take it that you don’t think this conversation will land you and your friend here with a prison sentence for abuse of senatorial power and undermining the authority of both the executive and legislative bodies?”
The businesspony’s companion was practically cowering, but his smile only grew.
“I’m certain it won’t. Unfortunately for you, if you decide to take this conversation to court then the judiciary will be heavily biased in my favour; much like the jury and public opinion. I have provided tens of thousands of jobs, perhaps even hundreds of thousands single-hoofedly. You on the other hoof have gotten far more than that killed, ruined the economy for neigh-on a decade and most importantly undermined the authority of the very same courts which you disrespected by acting with absolute power during your time in office. I have no reason to fear a stallion with the reputation of a murderer who has no more evidence than his own tainted word against my well-respected defence. Your job is ensuring that outsiders do not interfere with my job; we both know what happened when you tried doing more than that. Stay down Arclight and thank whatever damnable deity you worship that you managed to get your old position back.”
And that was that. He trotted off with his business partner as leisurely as he had trotted in, leaving the director stunned and absolutely furious. He gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath about how he was going to wring that pony’s neck out some day as he went back to sit down and finish his coffee.
What annoyed him most wasn’t the disrespect, but the fact that he was right. He couldn’t punish these politicians for so brazenly flaunting the law and what should have been political convention. Goldhoof would never be held accountable for his actions, nor would any of the other senators for that matter; congress was mildly more reprehensible, but any political commentator knew that the real power in the federation rested in the hooves of the senate and their economic interests. River was just a figurehead who had to make things look nice for the rest of the world whilst congress tried to keep everypony else in the federation from grabbing a gun and revolting. Unsurpisingly, the senators also owned most of the media outlets which meant that those with anything to say about them were simply paid not to. Reliable sources of rivbits like that in an economic climate like this was more than enough to keep them quiet. Even if the agency tried to take him down quietly, there would inevitably be fabricated laundry aired by some paid whistle-blower that could derail the operation completely for months.
The federation was run by those with the money and there was nothing he could do about that, much as he hated it.
Well, unless he…
“Sir? Am I interrupting anything?” Paper Crane asked, seemingly terrified.
For a moment Arclight looked as though he was about to commit first degree murder, but his expression changed in an instant once he knew who was speaking. “No, not at all. What have you got for me kid?” The director asked, burying that idea for later.
“Communique from the KG, Benito specifically.” He managed, breathing heavily in relief.
Finally, something that wasn’t fucking awful to think about. The earth pony took a minute or so to read it and another minute to scan it for anything that he’d missed. He wasn’t surprised to learn that the faithful hound would be retiring, given his age; but he hadn’t expected to be called for a semi-secret state visit. The proposal about the buyback should obviously be put into effect immediately, that they could do without his presence here. He trusted his subordinates to do whatever they could to prevent the nationalists getting more of a hoofhold than they already had.
“Pass this buyback thing on to anypony on the board, Stainless or Softtrot would be best if you can find them. I’ll write back to Griffenheim.” He gave out after some silent deliberation.
The young stallion took notes and nodded before asking, “You’re going, sir?”
“Absolutely. The empire is the only ally that the agency really has these days Paper; they’re the only folks besides us that give half a rivbit about the common riverpony.”
Paper looked away from his boss with a confused frown, before huffing and nodding his head slowly after realising that he was probably right.
~*~
He didn’t want to tell her, but he had to. These days it felt as though they were all each other had. He’d lost everything almost a decade ago; his friends, his family and most of his co-workers too. Now the director had to watch as everypony in the Riverlands tore his best friend to pieces right before his eyes. She was headed the same way he's been those years ago. From what little time they’d had together to talk, he had gathered that things at home were looking about as terrible as things in the office. Sometimes even Pumpkin Swirl, her cousin, would sneak a scowl at her relative; probably convinced by her economist ‘friends’ that the president was running the country into the ground rather than doing her best to save it.
“Arc, please I… I’m barely holding things together as they are. Please don’t leave me right now, here with all these… Tartarus, what should I even call them…”
Politicians, demons… Same thing, really; at least in his experience.
River seemed close to crying. He’d seen it before, but not like this. Never anything like this. He twitched a little, knowing that even though he wanted to stay and keep her sane he had to leave; it was a necessary evil. He looked solemnly at his long-time friend, a mess in her chair, and wondered how many times he’d missed seeing her pale blue coat ruffled like this. He didn’t know how to deal with it, professionally or personally. No kids, no partner and few real friends… He'd had effectively zero experience with this kind of thing for years. But he had to do something, anything at all was better than this; he could hardly make it worse.
He blinked and steadied himself before trotting around the desk and gently putting a hoof on her shoulder. Now the poor mare was truly sobbing, but she looked up nonetheless with her defeated blue eyes.
In all his years he’d never expected needing to hug the president, but what else was he supposed to do? Arclight leaned forward and put about half of his weight on her and the office chair, awkwardly holding on to River Swirl; his milk-chocolate fur with its occasional grey hairs rubbing up against hers. He grimaced, expecting the unicorn to push him away; but she didn’t.
It took a moment or two to adjust, another few more for both of them to find a position that was slightly more comfortable. They just stayed there for a minute, maybe more; neither of them were checking the time. She had put her hooves over his shoulders and continued to cry into his fur, only just managing not to poke his eyes out with her horn.
“I’m only going to be gone for a few days, maybe less than that. I’ll be back before you even realise I’ve left; alright? You know how much we need to maintain relations with the empire and with Grover.” The earth pony said softly.
He could feel her nod slowly and her hold loosened, so he let his hooves fall slowly back to the floor. Arclight hadn’t seen before, but an incredible number of the papers stacked up on her desk were leaflets, pamphlets and other pieces of public outcry. He’d heard that the businessponies might have been making her life particularly difficult and given the headlines of the papers that they owned it was hard to argue that point. Something else he would have thrown to a judge if he could have.
“I… I understand… Just come back soon okay? Call me and… You know. Tartarus, I… I never thought I would have to rely on you like this. I’m so sorry Arc,” She managed, with a few more emphatic nods.
He smiled through his pitying look. “It’s alright. It’s the least I can do. We know each other well enough by now, I’d be a pretty shit friend if I couldn’t do anything to help.”
She forced a smile and chuckled slightly at that, he was still full of surprises after all these years.
“River… Do you think it would be different this time? You know, if I… Did what you asked me to? I could, we both know that I could; they’d leave kicking and screaming, but they would leave with threat of force. Would it be worth it?”
The unicorn sat, wide eyed. “I… I don’t know.”
“Do you want to try?”
“Yes. Goodness yes, I… I just want to stop; resigning takes months and I… I don’t know if I can take this for much longer Arc. I can't… I don't want to be here.”
Once again she was barely holding back the tears welling up in her eyes, outlining the bags under them as she sniffled. He gestured to the phone on her desk and she nodded, raising a hoof to her face to hide it and wipe away the growing tears. He hoofed in a couple of numbers and held the device to his ear.
“Paper? Yeah, it’s me. Sorry to bug you again kid, but this is important. More important than your meeting in two minutes yeah. I need you to pull some archive files for me. Phoenix Project, or Phoenix Programme; one of the two. Yes, that’s the one. I’m sure. Thanks, I’ll come and find you in thirty.” The earth pony gave out, setting the phone down again and sighing.
They both looked at each other, then the clock, then each other again before River finally spoke; her voice was shaky, partly out of relief and partly out of sadness.
“Thank you,” She managed, nigh-on silently.
Arclight nodded solemnly, “I’ll do whatever I can, for everypony.”
~*~
Nightmare trotted slowly through the halls of the palace in Vesapolis. It might have been quaint, even pretty if it wasn’t still adorned with Chrysalis’ green and black décor from before the war. If it was worth the bits, and it most certainly was not, the alicorn would’ve had the place renovated years ago; after all it was legally her palace now.
Four queens and one empress, the latter of which being her of course. For a while they had considered letting another of the Vesali bloodline take the throne so that the bugs out here could operate under a rule that they at least wouldn’t see as entirely foreign; but that idea had vanished after it became clear how little the average changeling cared about who ruled them, as long as it wasn’t Chrysalis. She could hardly blame them for that. Millions dead at the hoof of that madmare, all for them to be conquered by those she sought to conquer herself. Some thought that her views were substantiated by the loss in the war and the brutal casualties, but most were content to acknowledge Nightmare’s client state as legitimate so long as no more bugs had to die.
Empress of Equestria, the Crystal Empire and of the changelings. Quite the set of titles, really. That had been the idea of and the conclusion reached by the imperial advisory council; she had placed herself on the throne of Vesapolis after the war and thereby the rest of the hives by extension. The seat of Chrysalis’ power became hers and the other four queens bowed before her might and magic, whilst serving as regional governors for their client state. They bickered amongst themselves for her favour, which only served to make ruling the place easier and occasionally lined their pockets if they had gone to enough effort. A perfect system, really.
Helvia of Ditrysium, Aurantia of Lyctida, Argynnis of Vraks and Yaria of Soryth would serve her as well they did Chrysalis or else face a punishment similar to hers. That was, of course, a long and agonising death. A fate they all understandably wanted to avoid.
“Your majesty.”
Two guards, one changeling and one thestral stood beside the door to the royal banquet hall; as they did at any other time when Nightmare Moon was coming to visit. They lowered their heads before she threw open the doors with a powerful but controlled usage of telekinesis.
The chamber, assumedly filled with chatter and friendly competition before the empress had sauntered in, was now silent. The queens left their seats to bow, only returning to the table once Nightmare was close enough to be seen as in a cordial mood. They were well dressed, each bearing their regional outfits; for her part she had arrived in a unique piece of royal attire, forgoing her usual headpiece in favour of a more formal three-piece suit in her colours.
“Good day to you four, I trust that all the arrangements I requested have been made and that the economic plans we have instituted are baring fruits?” The empress began, placing her forehooves on the table and scanning each of their faces with a fanged smile.
Argynnis immediately responded, the most headstrong of the council. “Yes your highness. The output of the industrial centres in Vraks has trebled since your last visit; though my distant cousins here have not seen such growth, we have all seen successes.”
“But your stocks of grain have gradually dwindled, haven’t they? Ditrysium remains the most well balanced and stable of all provinces between us, notwithstanding Vesapolis of course.” Helvia volleyed back quickly, picking at her companion’s achievement.
Yaria butted in before Aurantia could so much as speak a word with fire in her eyes, “Which is why your growth is the slowest. Soryth has never seen its dockyards busier, nor its cities bustling to quite the extent that they are now; you have-“
Nightmare groaned emphatically stood up to walk slowly around the table. They weren’t idiots, their aptitude for governance proved as much, but without Chrysalis they were nothing more than siblings trying to get one up over each other to please their betters. Pathetic and irritating despite their usefulness.
“Have you all met the targets which I have provided for you?” She asked, circling behind the insect queens as she spoke.
“We have, your majesty. Hoofily.” Aurantia gave out as she was yet to speak.
“Good. I care little for your petty squabbles and family feuds, your duty is to serve me and so long as you can do that you may keep your heads. When you cannot, there will be no second chances; I will find willing replacements for all of you within days if need be. What happened to your last empress will likewise happen to you, which is to say nothing of what my husband may have in store for you should he find need of a changeling in his research.”
Silence. They had all been forced to watch Chrysalis meeting her end. Her wings had been endlessly punctured and ripped, chitin torn off in select places which made one wince, her horn had been snapped and filed down slowly whilst her hooves were stained and bloody from the forced labour and the torture. None of them could forget that image, nor the execution.
They all remembered being there, forced to watch.
Death by drowning in the cleanest water that could be purified, just so that they could all watch her suffer one last time. She had barely even struggled, assumedly unable to thanks to all the other injuries, only moving when she had been actively choking to death on the liquid flooding her lungs and writhing in the weighted seat for a few seconds. Then she was gone, dead and inert; a final influx of terror and agony before silence.
What Sombra might do was anyling’s guess, but none of them wanted to find out. They all remembered the carnage that his mindless minions had caused during the great war. Their most experienced and battle-hardened soldiers were terrified of his armies, because they felt no fear and knew no remorse. No prisoners were ever taken and every single pony that crossed their border would fight until every bone in their body was broken and their mind could no longer function. Torture and death might be worse than being his puppet and being a passenger to whatever acts he made them perform, but both were fates that the four queens wanted to avoid.
Nightmare waited a moment before getting their attention again, “Look at that flag.”
She pointed upward and their eyes followed. The flag of Equestria-Crystalia.
“That flag is more important than those of your pitiful houses. You serve my empire and you serve me before yourselves. Do that well and I shall reward you for your service, waste too much time trying to usurp one another and I shall see you receive a fate worse than you can possibly imagine. Failure is something I cannot tolerate and I will not allow your rivalries to stand in the way of progress for my empire. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”
“Yes, your majesty.” They replied in unison.
Author's Note
Hey hey hey, we do a little trolling.
Hope you all enjoyed as usual and that the flag tickled your fancy.
He hadn’t had a meal like this in years. It wasn’t a feast, far from the quantity of food and number of guests required with just the two of them, but the staff at the palace certainly knew how to cook for ponies. What was left on his main course plate would soon disappear whilst an assortment of rare flowers and sugary treats remained as desert to come after the remnants of a platter of fruit, vegetables and some sugary pastry. Grover meanwhile was calmly enjoying some kind of red meat along with an assortment of boiled vegetables and roast potatoes, all of which were smothered in a mass of gravy that had been made from the water that had been used to boil said vegetables.
They’d arranged themselves at a right angle from one another, sitting at a fairly small but nevertheless beautiful wooden table after a long day of strolling and talking. It had been almost entirely formalities, having to meet and greet Thranx and endure a meeting for two hours with Benito; as well as a tour of new places at every turn. Visiting was much more interesting than being visited it seemed, at least it certainly was for Grover. For his part, Arclight had been a very entertaining guest. He’d seen some of it before, just as he had, but it meant that they shared a few laughs along the way. The stallion had seemed rather preoccupied at first; but now he looked to be a very good mood. Now would be a good time to pose a question to start a genuine conversation.
“Forgive me for asking, I’m sure it’s a question you’ve heard enough at home, but I’m curious as to how you managed to keep any position in the OHS after… Well, the post-war catastrophe.” The emperor asked as politely as he could have.
The stallion smiled and finished his mouthful of food. It was forward, but actually more respectful that the way ponies at home usually broached the subject; he could appreciate that, knowing Grover was simply interested. This would make for quite a memorable dinner story, if not a particularly happy or pleasant one.
He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a careful hoof, “The war proved that I was right about griffons when everypony got letters that their husbands and sons were missing in action. Most of the prisoners of war returned after a year or two, but a significant minority never returned. The fear of griffons didn’t go anywhere, the fear of losing their loved ones in a war where griffons rolled over the Riverlands no matter who might start such a conflict still lingers. Congress kept me around because suddenly the nation and they too truly believed that I had been right, just as I was realising that I was so very wrong. A lot of the agency was happy to have me back for the same reason, which is partly why I rose back up to the top so quickly. Normally a string of promotions like that would take a two-decade career or more. It’s… A difficult irony to swallow.” He admitted, looking down at the table for a moment.
The griffon nodded slowly and set down his cutlery, regretting his choice of question. Clearly the topic still affected him, even after a reasonable number of years; he couldn’t blame him for that. Anycreature in his position would feel the same way.
Grover immediately looked to amend any offence he might have caused, “Apologies, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. I-“
“No, it’s alright. You’re an adult and there’s no harm in knowing each other personally if we plan on working together for… Well, however long until I retire; if I even get that chance. Better there be no secrets between us, not least for my line of work.”
Grover visibly relaxed in his seat. He hadn’t been expecting that, even though the earth pony had been otherwise lovely so far this evening. He’d talked to Benito a little about him before this meal, but wanted to form an opinion for himself. Clearly the stallion had changed a lot since the time he remembered in such bad light, this was proof enough.
“If I were an average citizen of the federation, I wouldn’t know whether to support the nationalists or the government; frankly. They’re both… Well, awful.”
“The nationalists aren’t just patriotic, are they?”
“You’ve a good eye. No, they’re not just nationalists. By and large they’re xenophobes before zealous defenders of the nation’s traditions, the movement wouldn’t be so unified if it weren’t for that tenet of their philosophy. I’m sure you can guess what species they want out of the federation.”
The emperor sighed, as he did indeed know. “Griffons,”
“Exactly. They blame ‘your race’ for the suffering they experienced and still endure to this day with the country in ruin. Of course they fail to mention the fact that it was a pony who was responsible for the suffering of millions and the death of tens of thousands; not to mention that it their politicians that ignored the warnings which should have prevented the market collapse with the Griffking Trade Treaty,”
“I remember my aunt and uncle talking about it a couple of years ago after the fact, how much they regretted proposing the idea to the federation publicly. They never intended the concept to be put into practice at all in the way they had spoken about it, let alone so quickly.”
“We were both opposed to the treaty, Benito and I, though I’m sure that won’t surprise you. I knew that as soon as the speech was broadcast the senators would be foaming at the mouth, thinking of monopolising the imports and getting rich. If they had cared less about themselves and more about the country they were supposed to be governing then they might have stopped to fucking think before everything fell apart for the second time that decade,”
That was supposedly the benefit of a monarchy, the emperor mused. If the government bodies beneath him were corrupt, it was the duty of the monarch to remove the rot and start over again; though if the monarch themselves was corrupt, then the institutions would follow in their footsteps. It was really more a fault of the sentient condition and the nature of the system in which the individuals worked. Failure to check power was a failure to fight corruption. A monarchy could be just as bloated and greedy, it simply relied on the heart of one creature rather than the will of many. A bad ruler would be far worse than an incompetent council of many; meaning that he must just be a good emperor. That train of thought was both reassuring and terrifying; not least because whoever followed in his talonsteps would be his own child, in all likelihood.
“Your highness?” Arclight gave out loudly.
“Hmm? Oh, Boreas... Sorry; this is the second time today that I’ve completely zoned out of a conversation for my own thoughts. I’ve… Lost a lot of sleep, it’s not you.” He returned, waving an apologetic claw over his now rather cold food.
The concerned expression from the earth pony softened instantly, he still recalled how difficult it had been to run things in the River Republic way back when. Now Grover had to deal with an empire that spanned a continent and seeped into a second, at half the age he had been then.
If there was anything the stallion appreciated, it was honesty. That was an irony considering what he was putting into motion at the moment; no griffon knew about that yet, but they should. Grover should, at least. If he was a religious pony, he would have prayed that the boy would understand.
Arclight managed a slightly pained but emphatic smile, “It’s alright, I can sympathise; though I imagine it’s probably more difficult for you than it was for me a decade ago. Why don’t we go outside? The cold air should keep you awake.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
~*~
“I haven’t seen my uncle and aunt for a few weeks either. That one’s my fault admittedly but… Well, I should really go and see them; they’re probably worried sick.” The young griffon expressed slowly, “I miss them a lot,” he added, claws firmly clasped together to stop him fidgeting.
Arclight nodded and lamented how he himself had lost touch with his family for a second time that evening. Listening to the emperor of the Griffonian Empire talk about his troubles wasn’t exactly how he saw this dinner going, but really it was quite an endearing experience. Even Grover was only mortal, no matter what some of his more devoted subjects might say. He could already feel that he was developing a soft spot for this griffon as a friend and a confidant of sorts despite the difference in age.
The earth pony agreed with a grave expression, “That’s a good idea. You never know how much you took your family and friends for granted until you lose them; try to keep them in your life, even if it’s a little inconvenient.”
Grover sighed and hung his head a little, thinking about all the work he would have to do in the morning and whether he could fit in a visit. Maybe he could, maybe not. He was honestly scared to look at his timetable right this second, mostly because it would remind him of how little time he had to himself. After a moment he looked up at Arclight again, wondering if he should even ask after divulging some of his troubles.
“What about you?”
The director looked taken aback for a moment as he answered, “Hmm? Oh, that’s… Things are difficult right now, personally and at work. I’ve a lot on my mind.”
It seemed like everycreature did these days.
“Besides what we’ve already talked about, River Swirl is on her last legs; bless her heart. I’ve been doing all that I can to keep her sane and safe, but she gets a lot of abuse these days for the jobs she has to do and she can’t handle it. She begged me not to come on this trip. It was… It was gut-wrenching to leave her alone, we’re more-or-less the only friends each other have. I don’t think she’ll last the presidency, or even the time it would take for her to resign at this point.” He explained slowly, starting from the top.
Grover looked down at his claws again before speaking, “I’m sorry, that’s… That must be hard for you. Both of you.”
“Not as hard as the choice I have to make as a result of it. Currently there are really no established parties or a united democratic tradition in the federation. I killed whatever was left of it in the republic during my coup a decade ago and most states that joined the federation afterward did so out of economic necessity rather than the desire to be part of a unified political system. Whatever happens to River, the elections will be chaos; if the government even survives that long.”
Grover was starting to grasp the gravity of the situation now, or at least knew that things were more challenging for the ponies in the east than he initially thought. He and most griffons that found interest in politics already knew that the Riverlands operated under essentially a sham democracy, but he’d not personally considered what an election would actually look like. River Swirl had been the captain of that ship for more years than any democratically elected leader should ever be and he hadn’t seen her show signs of leaving. He couldn’t name a single pony that would be willing to replace her, or any party that might put one forward. Arclight sighed heavily before continuing, taking a glance at the slightly nervous griffon next to him.
“So, I’m left with a difficult choice. I let things run their course, River will either go mad or manage to stay sane long enough to be forced into resigning and the senate installs a new president either way; somepony that probably will pose even less of an obstacle to their economic interests and the gradual corporatisation of the state.” He began, still feeling a little averse to telling Grover what he was thinking of doing.
But, perceptive even when exhausted, Grover knew what was coming. “Or you do something about it by removing her from office yourself and suspending both senate and congress, right?”
The fact that he was right, and he already knew that he was right from the weak stare directed at him, was what made the concept so mortifying. It wasn’t as though he was replacing a functioning democratic state, nor would he be so idiotic or emotionless as to engage in large scale acts of violence to secure his position. It was terrifying because of the fact that neither of them knew what would happen. Arclight had tried this before, but the circumstances were different now. Everything was different now. Would it work? If war had saved the empire, griffon pan-nationalism and harmony on the continent, then maybe a coup could save the Federation too. But could the federation survive the political upheaval caused by a hated pony and a despised institution of the state?
“What would you do, Grover?” The pony asked, snapping him out of his terrified contemplations.
They sat in silence for a little while then, drinking in the evening’s cold air in one of the palace’s few courtyards. The air was calm and the sky was a deep blue, stars dimmed and hidden by the lights from the city that surrounded them. Arclight grunted and shifted slightly in his wooden garden chair, looking upward and staring into the darkness above as the golden-feathered Griffon sat there, not knowing what he would do. Save a friend and leave his home a rotting corpse, or doom both by inaction? Would his good intentions then lead to worse even then?
Eventually he managed an answer, though it wasn’t much of one. “I… I don’t know.”
The director huffed, not out of indignance but from understanding. He had made up his mind on what he was going to do already, but he didn’t know if it was the right thing to do or even if it would work. He had seen the cogs in Grover’s head turning, going through the same questions that he had in the moments sitting with River Swirl where his choice was finalised.
“Neither do I.” He returned, turning to look at the emperor with tired eyes. “But what I do know is that I’m not losing anyone else and I’m not letting those Tartarus-damned senators take charge over the Riverlands,”
The emperor nodded after some time, knowing exactly what Arclight was going to do. He wondered whether he would be on the right side of history for doing nothing to stop him, or if he might just have to live with the guilt.
~*~
Lunch was a surprisingly formal affair. Rarity still remembered how Spike used to occasionally scarf down gems when he thought nopony was looking. That young dragon had come a long way, it seemed. He still ate gems of course, but he was polite enough to melt them into several pieces using his fiery breath before swallowing them now; even if he did need substantially more of them. He’d really grown up, even insisted on paying for her meal, which was greatly appreciated considering the limitations of her purse. Service in the army had done little for her accounts.
The restaurant didn’t serve gems, dragons had been an infrequent sight around these parts even before the civil war and they certainly hadn’t become more common since then. Instead he carried a number of them in a rucksack for snacks and meals, when it was necessary. Smart really, considering he didn’t have to worry about the weight of the things like most ponies would have to; one of the numerous perks of being a dragon.
“So, Spike… How did my darling little gentledrake end up so far from Canterlot?” The unicorn asked with a slight giggle.
It had been years since she’d spoken to anypony like that, let alone to Spike. His cheeks turned red in an instant and he almost choked on the gem that he’d been in the middle of swallowing. If it hadn’t been for his gag reflex he would’ve been reeling from surprise, embarrassment and a sudden rush of feelings that he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“I…” He managed, before needing to clear his throat again. “Mmm, sorry. Celestia… Well it’s not a heroic story, really. When Nightmare had first closed in around Canterlot Twi packed our bags and ran with me in tow. Took some trains, a few carriages and a few weeks of going on claw to make sure we couldn’t be followed and we ended up in the south. It… wasn’t a happy journey.” He explained calmly, the red on his cheeks having disappeared entirely.
Ah, of course. For all her struggle and strife, Rarity had hardly even had the chance to consider what a thirteen-year-old dragon being forced to abandon his friends and family might feel like. Rarity furrowed her brow and silently cursed Twilight for forcing him to run with him, even if it had likely saved his life. There were a lot of feelings they both had to process.
He pretended not to see her inclement expression and went on, “Since then I’ve been… just trying to get by. Got a formal education, not a degree but something good enough to pay the bills for the house. Trying my best to keep an eye on Pinkie who somehow managed to follow us south a few weeks after we got here has also been tricky. Started hanging out with Starlight every couple of weeks when she arrived here a few years ago, she’s much more relaxed now. The civil war put a lot of things into perspective for her, but she misses Trixie a lot.”
Rarity’s expression had turned from anger to a sombre happiness as Spike briefly explained how much of his life that she had missed, as though it hadn’t been the most formative years of his childhood and early adult life that they’d all been taken away from. Then, at the mention of Trixie, her eyes turned to pinpricks. Did she not know? Did he not know?
“Spike, darling… Before you go on I must tell you this; because if I don’t I doubt I will be able to stand the thought on my mind for very long. Trixie has been dead for years; I was in the same unicorn engineer battalion as her during the Great War, she… Oh, Tartarus… She died within the first month of fighting. Bled to death after a changeling sniper caught our column off guard.”
Spike sat, wide-eyed and far too tense to be comfortable. He’d tried so hard not to think about what could have happened to everypony that was conscripted, told himself the war would be over quickly and that they’d be fine. For a while, Rarity’s presence here in front of him had comforted that inkling in his heart; but now, in an instant, he was close to panicking. Rarity recognised the look immediately and shot a hoof forward to hold one of his large claws, but it didn’t help as much as she had hoped it would. At least he didn’t push the kind gesture away.
She’d never seen the distraught expression on his face when he spoke, “What should I tell her? Should I even tell her at all? Celestia, I…” He buried his face in his free claw then, his stable world shattered by somepony he should’ve been happy to see.
“I’m sorry Spike, I’m truly sorry dear. I thought letters had been sent and… Well, I gave Luna the benefit of the doubt that she might have some semblance of remorse left enough to notify her friends of such things.”
“You mean Nightmare.” Spike gave out spitefully.
She watched quietly has he bared his teeth and drew up his head, “Well, yes.”
He looked as though he would have walked outside of the shop and killed both of their tyrant monarchs right then and now. Rarity had never seen her little gentledrake so enraged, not like this. It was terrifying. He was terrifying.
It must have shown on her face, just how frightened she was, since moments later his eyes darted to hers; his flared nostrils, the awful scowl and the teeth that could have torn anypony to shreds became more cordial. She still tentatively held her hoof on that claw, but he could feel it shaking in fear. A few moments later, he pulled that same claw away and through some miracle had the self-control to gently take her pastern in his digits.
He breathed slowly before speaking, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… I don’t know what to do and I’m angry for a lot of things, not least for Trixie even though I hardly knew her. I just wish Equestria was different; and that I could do something.”
She was still taken aback, thankful and surprised that he’d managed to hold what seemed to have been unbridled rage. The old Spike was still in there, piecemeal. Everything else was new and alien, much like her scars and how she’d changed.
They were going to have to get to know each other all over again.
“It’s alright darling. Thank you for being honest with me, I understand how you feel.” She offered, slipping her leg slightly until he was holding her hoof.
“You guys taught me not to give into my feelings like that. It’s… been a useful lesson; for a very long time.” He answered, making a pained smile.
Had he been keeping his feelings bottled up all this time because of that? Rarity didn’t want to think about how they’d never had an opportunity to explain some of these things to him; again frowning and this time silently cursing herself instead. She had been partly responsible for him after all.
After almost half a minute of silence, Spike let go of her hoof and she slowly drew it back; partly because she was thinking of asking a difficult question and partly because she now felt even more guilty for not trying to find Spike sooner. Or anypony else for that matter.
The unicorn leaned over the table so that she could ask in a near-silent whisper, “Dear, where is Twilight?”
Author's Note
A small amount of trolling.
This chapter was particularly fun to write, even if it took longer than usual. That's because I'm simultaneously working on some title art for this fic at the same time as I write it. Not a bright idea, but it's mine and I like it.
Hope y'all enjoy.
