Luna stood outside the gilded, golden doors of the private office of Lord-Duke Pale Scepter. Two heavily armoured guards flanked either side of the door with their halberds leaning towards one another, forming an X over the door and symbolically barring access to the office. The former princess rolled her eyes at the lacklustre attempt at an intimidating powerplay.

She was almost tempted to make a threatening motion towards the guards, just so that she could witness the hilarity of them trying to swing such utterly unwieldy and impractical polearms within the narrow confines of the hallway. However, she suspected the point of the weapons wasn't to present a credible deterrent to intruders, but rather a gaudy display of power projection.

The entrance to her and Celestia's shared throne room had two guards not dissimilar to these. Although, the difference was that the wide open atrium of the Everfree Castle allowed for more practicality from such weapons. Not to mention that the standoff-distance and intimation factor afforded by polearms made them invaluable for potentially preventing stampedes and crowd rushes from storming the throne room. Not quite the same set of requirements as guarding a private office.

Luna wondered if it made him feel like a big stallion. To be able to stride through these halls like a peacock and have those halberds part for him as he approached while tending to the “important” business of governing his personal fiefdom; pretending to be a monarch.

Her already dismal opinion of Pale Scepter lowered even further. Not even her sister was so prone to uselessly ostentatious vanity and she was actual royalty.

The two guards were not the only gratuitous display of misplaced vanity; she could have spent hours mulling over every instance that she observed on her journey through the Red Estate. However, it was probably the one that irritated her the most.

Luna wished for nothing more than to leave this place and she knew that Windy felt the same. After the two of them had reached the Red Estate earlier, the filly's awe and wonderment of Fillydelphia had worn off and her already tumultuous emotions from the past few days, not only returned but seemed to grow even more stormy the closer they came to the Lord-Duke.

Eventually, Luna decided to leave Windy in the guestroom that they had been provided with while she negotiated with Pale Scepter. The former princess did not wish to part with her apprentice, but she needed to be able to dictate and control this meeting. She wouldn't be able to do that if had to worry about an emotionally unstable filly erupting at the noble who had so callously threatened her home.

Windy was furious at being sidelined from the talks with Pale Scepter. But as Starswirl had taught her, a mentor must sometimes make executive decisions, even if the apprentice dislikes them.

Luna’s thoughts were interrupted when, at some unseen signal, the door guards lifted the tips of their polearms into a vertical position, unblocking the door.

“You may enter.” One of the soldiers said in an emotionless, yet authoritative voice.

He glared at her in a manner that he probably thought was intimidating, warning her to not cause trouble for their Lord. The disguised alicorn restrained herself from visibility bristling. She gave serious consideration to picking up the soldier with her telekinesis and tossing him out a nearby window, just to prove who held the real power in this situation.

'The guard is a pegasus, he'd be fine.' A seductive voice in her subconscious whispered.

However, having to explain to Pale Scepter why she defenestrated one of his soldiers would probably at least double the length of their meeting. As tempting as the alluring thought was, her desire to keep this meeting as short and uncomplicated as possible won out over her indignant spite…

…barely.

So she shelved the cathartic fantasy and stepped through the door into the room.

The Lord’s office was obviously designed to impress. Tall marble columns framed the chamber, their surfaces carved with scenes of past rulers—figures immortalized in acts of triumph, judgment, and diplomacy. They must surely have been the magnum opus of some skilled stonemason in an age past. The ceiling arched high above, its lacquered beams inlaid with delicate gold filigree, catching the light from an elaborate crystal chandelier that cast a warm, deliberate glow.

At the heart of the room stood a vast ebony desk, its polished surface reflecting the flicker of candlelight. Gilded scrollwork traced its edges, forming intricate patterns around the house sigil at its centre. Behind it loomed a high-backed chair, its frame carved with stylized wings and a coronet—perhaps a little too grandiose for a mere regional governor, but Luna supposed humility was not in fashion here.

The floor was a work of art in itself, laid with marble in a sweeping mosaic of Fillydelphia’s emblem. Rich fabrics draped the windows, their deep reds and golds lending the space an almost theatrical quality, though whether that was intentional or a byproduct of excessive self-regard was debatable.

Luna took in the grandeur with a practised glance, neither awed nor particularly interested. She had walked through true palaces—this was simply a well-furnished stage.

And at the centre of the stage, the lead actor took his mark—draped in finery, but no closer to being a king.

Seated behind his grand desk, Lord-Duke Pale Scepter carried himself with the poised arrogance of a stallion who had spent his life expecting deference. His coat was a pristine shade of ivory, so meticulously groomed that it all but gleamed beneath the chandelier’s light. His mane, a pale silver streaked with near-white, was styled with precise, deliberate care—though not so much as a strand dared to fall out of place; there was something almost rigid about it, as if more effort had gone into maintaining the appearance of effortless elegance than he’d ever admit.

His robes, embroidered with gold thread in intricate, swirling patterns, draped over his shoulders with the weight of tradition and status. The sigil of his house, prominently displayed on a clasp at his throat, served as a silent reminder of lineage, power, and, no doubt, expectations. He had the look of a pony who wished to appear untouchable, an unshakable pillar of nobility and governance.

And yet, beneath the carefully measured poise, there were cracks. The slight tension at the corners of his mouth, the way his hooves rested just a fraction too stiffly atop his desk, the flicker of irritation in his cold blue eyes—it was subtle, but it was there.

He did not want to be in this position.

He did not want to need her.

But he did and Luna was going to fleece him for all that he is worth for having the audacity to threaten that which she cares about.

She couldn't deny her curiosity. What desperate need could drive a powerful noble like him to such measures?

The Lord-Duke opened his mouth to speak. Presumably to preen about how much of an honour it was for him to fit her into his schedule or some other nonsense.

She didn't let him finish. “I trust that Lieutenant Guile has made you aware of my demands. I'd hate to have to repeat them twice.” She interrupted with a disinterested and matter-of-fact tone.

During her reign as princess, she had endured enough self-important babble from trumped-up nobility to last a hundred lifetimes. The rules were different now, though. She held the leverage and she wasn't going to let him dictate the flow of the negotiations.

The noble’s eyes lit up with indignant fury at the blatant disrespect but seemed to restrain himself from snapping at her. Although, the sneer never left his face.

“Yes, I was informed about your demands.” He spat out. “You must be delusional if you think that I'm going to not only grant total independence to one of my vassals but then still finance and protect them. Pick a different boon.”

‘Playing hardball, are we?’

Luna was unfazed by the refusal. “I don't particularly care if you like my conditions or not. That's the price of my aid.” She rebutted, not shifting from her position.

“You have a grossly inflated sense of ego if you think that a mere mercenary like yourself is worth the permanent loss of a region of my domain,” He insulted. “You are not so important to my plans.”

Instead of answering immediately, Luna slowly walked forward from her position near the door towards his desk. Two lavish high-backed chairs stood several metres in front of the ebony desk. Evidently for the comfort of guests but far enough away to create an aura of unapproachability around the lord.

Luna grabbed the top of one of the guest chairs with her telekinesis, before flipping it around and dragging it alongside her as she approached the large desk. The metal feet of the heavy antique chair created an awful screeching sound as it scraped along the marble floor, leaving deep scratch marks on the polished stone.

The noble practically shook with rage as he watched on. Speechless as his vocabulary failed to adequately describe his fury.

The former princess paid no attention though as she flipped the chair back around when she reached his desk, before taking a seat in it. She made sure that her posture and etiquette when sitting down were done with the utmost grace and sophistication that could only have been borne from a century of experience as royalty.

She knew all the proper etiquette of meeting with a noble, but she chose to be disrespectful. Pale Scepter certainly interpreted it as the mockery it was intended as, his expression darkened even further if such a thing was possible.

“I know that I'm vital to any plans you may have. We wouldn't be having this conversation if I wasn't. You would have found somepony else to do it for less after you heard my demands.” She stated matter-of-factly as she settled into her seat, abandoning her stiff posture to adopt a more comfortable lounging position.

Luna was honestly a little impressed that the Lord-Duke had not lost his temper yet. However, that was hardly surprising. There was no greater signal of weak character among the noble class than somepony who threw a tantrum at a provocation. If you couldn't bite your tongue in a game of verbal jousting, then you had no place in the ranks of nobility. So even the most foul-tempered, thin-skinned members of the Equestrian nobility were taught from young how to keep a lid on their emotions, at least in public.

He did not erupt at the casual disrespect but that didn't stop his expression from turning murderous. He leaned forward and responded with a hiss. “If you don't appreciate the carrot that I offer you, perhaps you will respect the stick. My lieutenant has already told you of some of the potential consequences for Valley Dale. However, I assure you that I can go so much further.”

Luna knew that his threats weren't idle. The sheer amount of venom in his voice caused her resolve to waiver for a moment. Perhaps she had gone too far in wrestling control of the meeting away from him in the pursuit of her maximalist terms and would bring even more problems to the troubled town. However, she quickly discarded that flicker of doubt. If Valley Dale was to prosper, then it could only do so without the suffocating yoke of vassalage to Fillydelphia.

That would never happen if she didn't roll the dice in this meeting. She will have to remind Pale Scepter that she is not somepony to be trifled with and that trying to enact retribution upon the town that had sheltered her was a very bad idea.

The former princess fixed the noble with a withering glare that the unicorn couldn't help but flinch at slightly. She dispelled a small portion of the illusion spell that kept ponies from noticing her remarkable height, allowing her to loom over the Lord-Duke even from a seated position.

“I would remind you Lord Scepter that I faced down the total might of Las Pegasus, alone, and annihilated them.” She replied, her voice as firm and uncompromising as granite. “I want you to think very carefully about whether you want to become an adversary to me.”

The two of them maintained an intense contest of glares for a speechless minute, each looking a hint of weakness in the other. However, Luna was a seasoned politician with a century's experience and had dealt with nobles far more formidable than him. It was a contest that she was never going to lose.

Eventually, Lord Scepter was the one to concede. He sank into his chair with a disdainful, almost pained expression, as though he swallowed a mouthful of broken glass.

“You would make an enemy out of one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria for a town that you've known for two weeks,” The Lord-Duke remarked in a hostile, yet defeated tone. It was one that she had heard numerous times during her military career when she had forced a bitter enemy to the negotiation table.

“Why?” He asked. The frustration in his voice was clear, yet the underlying curiosity felt genuine. “You could have asked for anything; wealth, land, titles… anything. Why throw away such an opportunity for the benefit of a pathetic backwater town?”

Luna wasn't surprised that he didn't understand, especially without knowing who she really was. Most ponies were motivated to some extent by a desire to improve their lot in life. However, she was once a diarch and had enjoyed every luxury that existed until the novelty of such creature comforts had long since worn off.

Still, there was a lot she could have asked for that would make the upcoming mission easier; money supplies, food, and a new set of armour wouldn't go amiss either. She was sure that there would be more than a few enchanted artefacts and heirlooms within his deep vaults that would be worth her time. However, she was trying to prove a point. There was nothing so damaging to the ego of a self-important lord like Pale Scepter than the idea that somepony would look at all his amassed treasures and be unimpressed with what they saw.

“There is nothing you have that I want. Anything you could offer me, I could easily acquire myself.” Luna reaffirmed sternly.

The Lord-Duke's eye twitched at the reply as he sneered at her.

“I expect nothing less than the absolute and total success of your mission.” He demanded coldly.

Luna smirked. He wouldn't lower himself to verbally state his submission to her terms but it was clear that he had conceded.

"Naturally," Luna reassured briskly. "Now, let us not waste any more breath on what is already decided. Tell me of this mission.”

The former princess couldn't deny that she was curious why he would go to such great lengths to secure her aid. It was a risk to discuss terms before she even knew what he would ask of her, but it was important to use her leverage to get him to submit to her terms right out of the gate so that she could control the negotiations from the start.

As an alicorn, she wasn't particularly concerned that the task would be beyond her abilities. She was also confident that he wouldn't ask of anything that would be particularly heinous to her sensibilities. If the Lord-Duke wanted somepony to assassinate a political rival or brutalise a group of civilians in his name, then he wouldn't have chosen an unknown Mage with unreliable loyalties and whose silence could not be guaranteed after the fact. There were plenty of other ponies in Equestria that would gladly trade blood for money and charge a fraction of what she was demanding.

Pale Scepter leaned back in his chair and looked the Mage over with a critical eye. He looked somewhat calmer, like a bird that was settling down its ruffled feathers. The supremely bitter expression never left his face though.

“You will be escorting a group of ponies across the Eastern Wastes and to the coast of the Churning Sea, there you will help them recover an artefact from the centre of the Great Malevolence.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Ha, the Great Malevolence?” Luna couldn't help but exclaim with a bark of disbelieving laughter. “That's a plot of madness, a suicide mission even.”

The ivory-coated unicorn looked almost pleased at eliciting a reaction from the normally unflappable Mage. “Perhaps it was once impossible but that's no longer the case, a new method has been discovered. Your travelling companions will tell you more about it when you leave tomorrow.”

Luna wasn't convinced. “If it's become such a trivial task, then why seek out my aid?”

Pale Scepter had the gall to look smug at that. “I didn't say that it would be easy, just that it was possible.” He explained with his usual haughty voice. “As for your part… Well, the Eastern Wastes are hostile at the best of times. Not a place that I can easily move a detachment of troops through. I need a pony that knows the region and is powerful enough to get the job done when you reach the Churning Sea.”

Luna thought back to the false backstory that she had given the gate guards of Valley Dale, about being a nomad and freelance Mage that had hailed from the Eastern Wastes. She cursed her misfortune. Her made-up history was supposed to divert attention away from her, not make her a candidate for participation in the schemes of the upper nobility.

“And I fit all the criteria, do I?” Luna asked rhetorically, trying to play the situation coolly. She had already committed to her part in this dance and there was no backing out now. She just had to hope that her thirty-years-out-of-date knowledge of the region was enough to brave a trek across its expanse and that Pale Scepter's promised method into the heart of the Great Malevolence was as good as advertised.

“You are as good as could be found on short notice. The specialist team that I assembled have recently found themselves… unavailable.” He responded in a cold, collected voice. However, the tremor in his hoof revealed the true rage that he held for the situation that he found himself in. Pointing towards a catastrophic setback to his plans regarding the team that he initially planned to use.

Luna was curious about the fate of the first-choice team but not curious enough to derail the flow of the conversation.

The two parties talked well into the evening over the specifics of the plan. It was a much more laid-back and amicable affair compared to the start of the meeting as the negotiations slipped into a more comfortable rhythm as the two parties haggled over the details of the mission and exact terms of the contract. Having gotten most of what she wanted out of the noble, she ceased to further antagonise him.

Eventually, a scribe was called in to pen an official contract between them. Luna had insisted on it. She did not doubt that Pale Scepter had enough power to void the agreement in the magistrate courts, it was good to have it in writing regardless.

A detachment of Fillydelphian soldiers would garrison Valley Dale without delay, protecting it until its own guard corps could be reconstituted. A significant quantity of financial aid for the town's reconstruction would also be released with immediate effect. However, an official charter for Valley Dale was contingent on the successful completion of the mission.

Luna had fleeced Pale Scepter for all that he was worth during the negotiations but he categorically refused to cede independence to his vassal upfront. The former princess didn't press the issue, not willing to potentially implode an already highly productive discussion.

The mission was outlandish enough that she worried that it could not be done. Tying Valley Dale's freedom to its successful completion was a big risk. Even if she did somehow manage it, there was still a chance that Pale Scepter would walk back his charter promise or find another way to keep the town under his hoof.

Luna forcibly quelled those voices of doubt. She had done as best she could in the circumstances that had been presented to her. The short-term survival of Valley Dale had been guaranteed, she’d just have to navigate everything else as it came.

Author's Note

Done. This chapter was initially supposed to be longer but I eventually decided that another 1000 words of hammering out the finer details of the contract was unnecessary, so I trimmed it down to the short conclusion at the end.

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