He sat and stared at the table, not daring to meet the gaze of the golden giant sitting across from him.
Arbermal could feel his wings and limbs tremble slightly, his grey feathers were disheveled and dirty, and piercing blue eyes looked lost, the feathers beneath them somewhat damp from nervous and frightened tears. Behind him, two of the few remaining Imperial Storm Guards stood, the elite of the once mighty Griffon military, the personal guards of the Imperial Family. Once, they might’ve cut an imposing figure, powerful muscles and wings adorned by thick armour plating. Now, the Guards were tired and weary. Their armour was chipped and worn from battle, their spears and blades blunted. Like the young Prince, their eyes were tired.
The mood in the room was sullen, and the tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Arbermal felt the ill-fitting and battle marked crown on his head slide to the side as he fidgeted in his plush seat. The crown he wore was once pristine and golden, and was once worn atop the helmet of his father who took it upon himself to lead the armies of the Empire into battle. Once. Now, the crown had lost its shine, and it was heavy and cumbersome to the diminutive Griffon who now wore it. There was no time to reforge the crown or have another made for him, his father’s would have to do on such short notice.
Outside the walls of the once proud and mighty city of Ironhold, the ancient capital of the Empire built high into the mountains, was legions upon legions of golden armoured ponies. Unicorns, Pegasus, Earth Ponies, all adorned with the golden armour of the Solar Guard who had so effortlessly dispatched the armies of the Empire. The city itself was intact, for now, the walls still stood high and proud, although poorly manned. The endless miles of streets and winding alleyways were not ravaged by fire and catapults, but were lined with starving refugees instead. Unlike so many of the other great cities of the Empire which were now ravaged husks of their former selves, Ironhold stood.
Instead of attacking immediately, using their magical powers to shatter the city walls and storm in and overwhelm the tired, ill equipped force of conscripts defending the city, the Ponies stopped. Like the dozens of other times they had before, they asked to talk. And for once, the Empire agreed.
Across the table, Arbermal heard the sound of ceramic clinking. Slowly, the young Prince looked up from the dark, polished wood of the table and over to the imposing, golden clad figure of the Princess of Equestria, the Ruler of the Sun and the pony who had led her army across the Empire, demolishing a dozen armies raised to combat her in a seemingly unstoppable advance towards the capital of the Empire. Princess Celestia, the Dawn Bringer. She had come alone, as she promised, she had no guards with her, although to any warrior who saw her fight they knew she needed no guards or escorts. Once he had raised his head enough, causing the crown to shift and fall over his eyes before he quickly moved it, he saw the same Princess raise a teapot in her golden magical aura and pour the contents into two gold and jewel encrusted cups. Blinking in surprise, Arbermal opened his beak to speak, but his mouth suddenly went dry.
One of the cups was floated over to him, settling neatly down on the table before him. He did not know where she had gotten the cups nor the teapot from. Looking up from the cup of tea, his piercing blue eyes met the surprisingly gentle magnets gaze of Celestia’s. He only now began to take in the details of both her and her armour, having realised in the walk to the room they resided he had kept his gaze averted from her. Before, he only really noted the size difference between the two. Arbermal was small for a Griffon, even at his young age, and Celestia was far taller than any other Pony. He was only a fraction of her size.
Her alabaster white fur was pristine despite the gruelling March her army would’ve had to have taken to reach the walls of the capital. Her multicoloured mane, which fluttered in a non-existent wind, was clean and well kept and hung freely from her head and neck through slots in the ornate armour she wore. The golden plates were thick and engraved with words he did not understand and pictures of events and symbols of things he had never seen of nor heard of before. The armour covered her entire form, from her hooves to her wings. Beneath the armour, thick fabric coloured black kept the armour from her flesh and provided another layer of protection. Her helmet remained on her head, although her visor was open revealing her pretty face. The armour made her look even more imposing than she already was.
Most surprisingly of all, was the small smile that barely graced her lips. It was faint, but it was still there.
For another few moments the two sat in silence, before the gentle thrum of Celestia’s magic picking up her cup and taking a sip from the steaming liquid broke it. With a small sigh, she set the cup back down as she opened her mouth to speak. Her tone was…soft, yet firm.
“Prince Arbermal, it has been some time since we have last met.” She started, keeping her gaze focused on the diminutive griffon opposite her who shrunk under her stare. “Although, you probably do not remember, you were maybe only three or four winters. I only wish we could have met again under better circumstances.” She finished, her voice changing to something more sullen.
Arbermal didn’t say anything, he couldn’t think of anything to say. As much as he wanted to. He heard Celestia sigh as she levitated a scroll from a satchel on her flanks and unrolled it before setting it down on the table.
“I understand that this is difficult for you, and that you do not understand everything that will happen, your majesty.” She spoke again. “But, you have made the right choice in agreeing to discuss surrender with me.” Celestia stated as she slid the scroll over to him, it came to a stop next to the cup of tea she had made for him. Arbermal could barely understand any of it. Words his tutor’s had yet to teach him, phrases, places and numbers he had yet to see in his books lined the scroll. His eyes scanned the terms of surrender again and again, yet he could make little sense of any of it. At the bottom of the scroll, however, he could see Celestia’s signature already written, a space beneath it reserved for his own.
“I- I apologise, P-Princess, but I do not know what many of these words mean…” Arbermal said in a quiet voice, he could feel his body begin to shake. “How can I- How can I sign something something I do not u-understand?” The Prince said, keeping his head lowered as he heard Celestia stand up from across the room. He hoped that was the right thing to say, his father and tutors had taught him little of the political matters needed to run a country, let alone signing the treaty to end a war.
Celestia, to his surprise, gave a gentle nod as she stood up. Towering above any other occupants in the room she walked over with surprisingly quiet steps only for both of his guards to suddenly lunge forward, spears at the ready. Celestia stopped in her tracks, looking down at the Guards with an unamused look on her face.
“Your majesty, would you kindly order your guards aside? I promise you, I mean you no harm.” She spoke, turning her head towards him and ignoring the two Storm Guards. Arbermal nodded after a moment, motioning for the guards to stand down which they did, although with looks of anger on their faces. Celestia smiled as she walked over and sat down beside Arbermal, who shrunk even further into his seat as Celestia sat. “Now, what is it you do not understand?” She asked, oddly kindly.
Arbermal stammered for a moment before he pointed to the treaty in general, motioning to it all. “I- I cannot understand any of this. I don’t- What-“ He stammered, hardly cutting the intimidating figure of his late father or his stoic older brothers. He felt some tears well up in his eyes as he stared down at the paper. It was all too much, the war, the stress, the struggle, the heartbreak of the news of the deaths of his family on battlefields across the Empire. Arbermal felt the tears begin to slowly slide down his cheeks.
The gentle touch of a soft handkerchief on his cheeks that wiped away the tears and sudden warmth of one of Celestia’s huge wings across his back made him freeze as the Princess gave him a small smile. “It is alright, young Prince.” She said, a sigh escaping her lips. “I did not expect you to. I had hoped it would be your father sitting at this table, not you. But, unlike you he did not see reason.” She said solemnly. “You are young, and have done nothing to deserve what has been thrusted unto you, and for that I apologise.” Arbermal felt her wing pull himself closer, he did not resist, finding an odd sense of comfort in the fluffy appendage. “Shall I read it to you?”
Arbermal nodded. A quiet “Ok…” escaping his throat as Celestia cleared her throat, levitating the scroll in the air with her magic so that Arbermal could also see it from his position.
For the next hour, Celestia explained the terms of the treaty, every clause and every article in it and what they meant to the young Prince. The Griffon Empire would lose territory, a lot of territory. The Empire’s boarders would be shrunk to the mountain range around the capital, along with some farmland at the bases of the mountains so they would not starve. Any Griffon territory beyond these new boarders and any Griffon living there would suddenly find themselves citizens of Equestria. The army, the once so proud and mighty griffon army, would be shrunk and reduced to a mere few thousand soldiers. The Empire would pay reparations, Celestia told him the amount owed each year would either increase or decrease depending on the Empire’s economic state. Although Arbermal did not truly know what any of that meant, other than that it was important.
However, Celestia also spoke of food and medical aid for his people. She spoke of peace and trade between the two kingdoms, prosperity yet to come in a new era of peace. The bodies of countless griffon soldiers would be returned for burial, including the bodies of his father and brothers who all died fighting. In the background, he could hear his guards grumble about the terms of the treaty. They called it shameful, disgraceful and urged him not to sign. Yet… Celestia’s voice and words drew him in.
Finally, Celestia turned her head and looked down at him. “Do you understand now, your majesty?” She questioned, Arbermal nodded.
“I believe so, P-Princess.” He stammered. “Do I sign the paper now?” He asked. Celestia simply nodded as she summoned a quill with her magic and handed it to him. Arbermal.
“Before you sign.” Celestia said. “I want you to know what you are doing is the best thing you could have done for your people.” She started before looking out the window to the city below. “You have the potential to be a great ruler, young Arbermal. I only wish this war could have been avoided in the first place…” She trailed off, her gaze saddening. “So many dead, because of greed. Your father’s greed, his ambition, that is what started this war. Had he surrendered after the first loss, or the losses of your brothers, or on the day of his death, this could’ve been avoided. I want you to understand I take no pleasure in what I have done in this war, no matter what the stories say. I can only thank you for seeing reason this day, Arbermal.” She said as she handed him the quill.
“And if I sign, there will be peace?” Arbermal said.
“There will be peace, young Emperor.” Celestia confirmed. “There will be peace.”
With that, Arbermal scribbled his name onto the page, and the boy Emperor signed over his kingdom.
