"Please, ponies of the council, LISTEN TO ME!" The young mare stamped her hoof and turned so that her blank gaze fell across the assembly, onto murmuring dissenters to shame them into silence, so she could make her point clearly; "The Republic does NOT have our BEST interests at heart!"
Silver Tongue watched from the shadows by the Councillor's seat, his crimson eyes narrowed into slits at his new prime opponent; all those others out-spoken about this civilisation falling into line with the Republic had fallen silent, but this upstart was seeming to turn the veritable tide against them.
He examined her, and saw a lavender unicorn a touch scrawny, telling perhaps that she gone hungry unlike the privileged champions; he could not see what cutie mark her flanks bore if any, for she wore a cloth of blue draped like a toga crossing her shoulders and wrapping loosely around her middle, ending just above her tail. Her mane was pale, faded match to her coat, was cut 'chic' short so that her fringe was at an angle that rose front to back, flat as it fell over one side of her face. Her tail was also short but not styled. But perhaps the clincher (as he came to see as she turned to face his position) was that her perhaps blue eyes were strange, pupil-less like that of a blind pony. A shiver of revulsion claimed him as he attracted that greyed-out gaze, an absent frown gently wrinkling her brow. She shook too, but seemingly to clear her head, and she turned back again, pointing her hoof and crying.
"And yet their messenger had made his way to the ear of our venerable Chancellor, I see!?"
"Forgive me for my ignorance, but it surprises me that a pony manages to see anything with those eyes. Truly a feat of miraculous engineering, perhaps?" Silver Tongue sneered, feeling a spike of panic at his words potentially alienating audacity. Was he slipping after the incredible strain of this assignment?
"Lavender's Sight has proven itself quite a formidable assets in the past, Silver Tongue." The Councillor said in a sighing voice that contained rustling like paper. "We have benefited from heeding her in past matters."
"Then forgive me, as I thought I had been told of all the great members of council upon my arrival."
"Alas, but Lavender remains merely an important contributor to our discussions." The Councillor conceded, looking pained. "She has yet to earn her seat, due to her youth limiting her consideration as sufficiently mature."
"I see."
The Lavender pony looked chastised, her ears flicking down. She cleared her throat, gathering herself.
"I ask this council again to let Valliant Steel's army reconcile-"
"Valiant Steel overstepped his bounds and led his army in a most dishonourable attack against our allies! I do not wish to hear this-" The old stallions voice had risen to an unexpected volume, and the rest of the pony rose as he shook with terrifying ire and he gazed at the now cringing mare with hard, hurtful eyes. "As it has been said -if Steel truly values the lives of his stallions, he will submit himself to the council to be tried for his crimes!"
Lavender closed her eyes to catch the tears in her eyelashes, though Silver Tongue doubted any pony but himself had noticed. Then he heard the Councillor sigh.
"Lavender, I know that you feel responsible for his betrayal, but you cannot save his now, only his surrender can redeem him from his path."
"Valiant Steel would never surrender!" Lavender protested, her voice strained. "He would give his own life for his people!"
"And perhaps that is what he now must do. Give himself up so that the stallions of this city might return."
Lavender's eyes shot open, and she gave the Chancellor a startled loo
"....I...that is…" Lavender was lost for words.
"You are dismissed, Lavender."
Without another word, Lavender bowed her head and turned to trot from the room. Silver Tongue watched her go with a thoughtful smirk…
Silver Tongue considered himself in the pool of water in the courtyard.
He held himself in esteem, his tall and fit physique that gave him a small advantage over the other ponies, but not so much as to be imposing. His well-groomed silver fur that shone in the moonlight that came from the sky and reflected from the pool. His mane and tail, slightly darker, that metallic wonder that grew in thick rich locks that tumbled in bouffant bouquets, the red-no crimson tips that seemed like he had dipped them in the blood flowing from a deep wound inflicted on an enemy. His crimsons eyes seemed to glow like rubies in the mirror of the water, matching the magic glow of his horn as he refastened the golden clasp of his red clock, admiring the fine material and real-gold hem.
Content that he was indeed as charming as possible, the stallion stepped back from the pool and set off at a dignified canter to his rooms, passing two of his own attachment of guard who nodded fervently to him. He stopped with them to discuss a discreet request regarding a delicate security concern. They stepped into a shadowy alcove framed by one of the many great marble pillars that lined the formed the council building.
Being chosen for intelligent loyalty, the guard understood the need for delicacy and swept off to attend to his bidding. Feeling pleased, he continued to hurry to his rooms, relishing the buzzing feeling in anticipation of his guest. He nodded sharply to the guard standing to attention at his door.
Entering at a mere trot, Silver used his magic to straighten himself up, before considering the logistics of standing versus sitting casually while waiting for his guest. He wished to make the best impression in order to set good expectation for the future relationship he hoped to foster tonight. If he were to sit, it would be a bother stirring himself for a greeting, and an improper greeting would be churlish and set a bad example.
Better standing then, but where? Silver Tongue’s eyes swept back and forth as he considered the room before catching on the doorway to his sleeping quarters. With a nod, he began setting out the table, a simple affair carved modestly from a nice expensive piece of well grained cedar wood, setting down a silver platter and arranging on it tastefully some ripe fruits, along with two silver goblets. When he was pleased with it, he went into the other room where he located his silver comb and started on his hair, feeling it was mussed from his short run. In time, he heard the arrival of his guard, and the one he’d asked them to escort.
“Ah, you’re here.” He crooned, setting down the comb and turning to walk through the door. “Please, do take a seat.”
