The End of A Dynasty
...At the sight of an army that outnumbered of all of theirs together a hundred to one, the nobles on the whole despaired and surrendered, swearing to plead fealty to the Grand Archduke. True a few tried to field battle against him, but all were slain by the sword and the horn. And thus Grand Archduke Æthelric the Stern was able to cow the nobility.
But, being of Nobility himself, Æthelric knew of the fickleness and treachery his fellow nobles and how it would cause all he had worked for to be for naught at the slightest hint of trouble. Thus the King in all but title actually delayed his own coronation and the proclamation of the Unicorn State, so that the bureaucracy needed to run a truly national government flawlessly could be established, and any kinks and trouble could be ironed out first, less the nobles deem the Kingdom 'unnatural by the spirits' due to hiccups in tax returns. One year, one month, one week and three days after the Great Standoff, on the twenty-third day in the second month of summer, Æthelric's birthday, the unicorn was crowned King of his race, and the Kingdom of Unicorns, born of treachery and bullying and threat of war, was forged.
--The House of Æthelric, A Burning House of Schemes and Treachery, Vol. One of Ten, Chapter Two by Musty Tomes, 1st edition published 397 AW
39 AW
Count Pyrite had always been a nostalgic colt, absorbing stories of the Kingdom of Unicorns of old like a desert hermit would water. At the time of the warming he was but a young noble, unwed with no heir and desperate to see his coffers grow. Thus he kept a low profile and kept his mouth closed when the Princess said that Unicornia would be no more, and as the Royal Army without warning stormed the estates of nobles known for their willfulness to be cut down, Pyrite hunkered down and stayed out of sight.
The knowledge that the Kingdom Blessed by the Spirits was no more horrified the Count. The Kingdom had ruled for thousands of years without a sight of weakness that the Count could see, and the mere thought that they were to, of all things, merge and, indeed live alongside the brutal barbarians the Pegasi and the filthy, mud stained anarchists the Earth Ponies was too much to bear. Even before he made his announcement at the Convention, Grand-Duke Benzatine had Pyrite's loyalty, for as the Kingdom was forged by a visionary of good standing, excellent breeding, and a deep pocketbook, the Kingdom would be reborn by the same. Platinum was a silly girl to be wooed by that presumptuous peasant Clover the Clueless, but that would easily be rectified with a good husband to rule in her name, which Benzatine, the fortuitously widowed, would be the perfect stallion for the job.
Then he died. Quite suddenly at that. And to Pyrite's horror, not one of the other nobles thought to carry on the plan to reforge the Kingdom of Unicorns in Benzatine's memory. Instead they bickered about meaningless things and actually siding with the Muddies to have total anarchy rule the land! It was enough to drive one to drink hemlock. But alas and alack, such completely understandable measures would not restore glory to those that deserved it but had lost their way. And what was worse was the fact that Platinum was well past her foal-bearing years and had never been so much as pregnant once, leaving no heir to groom into claiming the throne when he was of age.
But all was not lost. While that Mad Stallion Star-Swill had thoroughly corrupted her easily misled mare head, Clover still had three foals, one of them, the stallion, was even a Unicorn! And furthermore an officer in the military. Indeed, he would make a fine King indeed. However, there was a slight problem. Yes Platinum acknowledged Clover as family, but for the lawyers of the world that would not stand. Nay, there must be documentation of a formal adoption. As though the word of royalty, a mare yes, but royal nonetheless, wasn't formal enough.
Nearly forty years had passed since the Kingdom went into hibernation (not dissolved as the ignorant, unwashed masses claimed), and in that time Pyrite had wed the daughter of a social equal, a politically and economically sound marriage that a truly civil society was built upon (not the unnatural female-dominated sex dens of the Pegasi or the simply mad concept of 'love' dictating a sham of 'marriage' amongst the Muddies), and had two children survive to adulthood. Sadly the eldest was a mare, and actually had the nerve to run off and elope with a filthy muddy, tossing aside a perfectly economically favorable marriage. To hell with his wife's tears, Pyrite had actual pride in his station. He would not soil his hooves, nor his eyes, to visit the Muddy whore and her mixed-race abominations that she had the audacious gall to dare call children. Blech, the sentimentality was enough to make one gag.
At least the Count was blessed enough with a son to balance out the good-for-nothing daughter. Though true he kept eyeing the pegasus scullery maid he had hired to his retinue (hey, cheep help was hard to come by) despite the favorable engagement his father happily arrange, at the same time Pyrite couldn't be too harsh. Colts will be colts, and so long as he was discrete a little side-dish here and there never did any harm, and it wasn't like a mare from the lower races was good for much else. But that was irrelevant. The restoration of the Kingdom was at stake, and Pyrite needed his son's help. The idea was to write up a formal adoption certificate and have the Princess (well, King, but everypony of significance knew that Star-Swil was the true power behind the throne, and thus the abominable violation of the King's Law was his way of securing it) sign it. Simple enough as the mare was simple enough to do it without thinking. Pyrite and a handful of old friends of like mind had already drafted it up, ensuring all the while that it was as close to the real thing as possible. But just in case the Princess, for whatever reason, was unable to be convinced to sign, Pyrite needed the lad to forge her signature (a simple task, considering his talent). Then it was a simple matter of waiting for Platinum to die and presenting this 'discovered' document, and then convincing dear Star Burst to claim his rightful place on the throne.
At least, that was the plan... Then that damnable courier arrived with the dreadful, damnable news, straight from the capitol.
And everything had been going according to plan...
------
Deep within Friendship Cavern, under the Canterhorn...
'Everything has gone according to plan...'
Clink-chsss dribble
'All that is left is... Me.'
Clink-chsss dribble
"I must once more protest this reckless action your majesty."
Clink-chsss dribble
"And once more I say that it has been duly noted and cast off."
With grunt and pull, Princess Platinum, blue and green mane now faded grey, face lined from the years, eyes not quite as bright, the glass of her spectacles a bit thicker, worked her way up a few more feet. The years in some respects had not been kind. Her middle was thicker, and she tiered more easily. But in other ways Time was most generous. As anyone who knew her, truly knew her, her mind was just as sharp and tongue just as quick as they were when she was little more than a filly. More so, arguably. After all, nearly forty years of experience made the beautiful mare that guided the formation of Equestria with a hidden hoof seem like a stumbling foal just learning to walk compared to an expert runner.
The fact that it was clear she hadn't gone the way of Puddinghead over the years was all that had stopped Velvet Hooves, her ever loyal spy and agent, from subtly ousting her from the organization she had founded. Not that anypony in the know would notice. After nearly fifty years of hoof-picking her agents and training them herself in the art of subterfuge, the scores of mares and stallions working for her could continue her work decades, perhaps even centuries, without her input. Of course, nopony wanted her gone just yet. Velvet Hooves had often mused on that datum, now more than he had in his youth. Had Platinum been able to work more freely as a filly, she would have been the most popular Queen the Kingdom ever had. The Shouting Congress may have even been successful, the Unification would have been flawlessly smooth. She could even have unified the tribes into a monarchy and nopony would have minded, if her successors were anything like her.
But no. Fate would not be so kind to one so perfect for her station in life. Instead, Platinum had doomed herself to the life as the fool, her own beloved sister Clover not knowing the true depths of her drive to see Equestria thrive, and to have the nobility of her tribe smothered and broken of power. Most ponies of status, Velvet mused, would try to cling to what little power they had, and try to regain what their forebears had lost, and use that as a stepping stone to completing their goals. And struggle all their lives fighting their enemies, and die bitter, having lost even more ground. No, Platinum sought to not only cast off her titles, but do so in a way that would take the nobility with her.
It was like the old Griffin Proverb: "You don't need to win, just ensure the enemy loses."
No, Platinum most certainly had her wits about her, even at her old age. ...Though that didn't explain why she wanted to personally inspect this cavern, especially when much of it involved repelling up and down a six-hundred foot deep pit.
As though reading his mind, Platinum spoke.
"It's like what my father and Star-Swirl always said Velvet: 'Trust that those you send to do your work did it right, then do it again yourself to be sure.'"
Clink-chsss dribble
"Yes your Majesty... But spelunking at the age of sixty?"
"Exercise is good for the body. Besides, I don't want whomever I send down here staking a claim I already own."
In the dim light, all Velvet could make out the sound of her smile in her voice. But had he been able to see her face as she drove another stake into the cliff face, he would have known in an instant that she was bluffing. It was her planning face, the one she used when her masks were unneeded, or when she needed to play the strings of one of her friends and family, or her agents. Velvet didn't know, but Platinum's Grand Strategy was in its endgame. One last act, one last play, and her Ultimum Magnum Opus would be complete.
After centuries of wearing down her family, generation by generation, the nobility of the Kingdom of Unicorns would at last be cowed, deprived of their arrogance and over-inflated senses of self-worth, all of which had been connected to their lands, mines, and vast stores of riches. Furthermore, the Royal Family, the House of Aethelric the Stern of Two Dozen Sons would be extinct, with nopony ever to be able to realistically claim the throne, no heirs left behind. And with both the Kingdom and Unicornia gone, there would be no need for a nobility. They would simply be a living relic of a quaint but bygone, barbaric time. Already the sons and daughters born since the Warming and the Convention see worth in their fellow pony, be they Earth Pony or pegasus. Yes there was some lingering self-segregation, but with time and generations that too would fade away.
Of course, as time went on a few extra sub-plots were added to her Great Drama. Aside from Clover and Hurricane's courtship and marriage (torture of the sleepless nights before and after their wedding aside, it was truly one of Platinum's finest works), there was also the matter of Velvet Hooves. Platnum had known for years that he loved her. Known it almost since they first met. Most ponies could not see the hidden secrets of the heart. But Platinum could. The better to manipulate them to her will. That was her special talent after all: Manipulation. The mare could have easily made him her slave in all but name. But she would know it to be a lie. Other than Star-Swirl, who had a mind as keen as her own as she could tell, and her father, Platinum was never able to tell if a pony's feelings regarding her were true... Or if it was because she made them think they felt that way for her. That kind of control... How could she ever willingly seek out a relationship, political complications aside, when she was always wondering how much of that love was his... and how much was a fabrication of her own unconcious design?
Thus Platinum simply discouraged it as best she could without turning that affection into disgust and betrayal. And part of that was in finding the stallion a pretty little thing of his own for when she was... Finished. It was a stroke of luck really, that Benzatine's late son would be so careless with his seed amongst the staff, and that said staff would be so willing to pretend the father was unknown, and that the filly would be such a clever thing. Really, it was almost like watching a tiny-her trotting around sometimes. True there was an age difference, what with Velvet Hooves being old enough to be the filly's father (...quite literally now that Platinum thought on it), but that wasn't unusual for the nobility. Furthermore, it was quite clear that the two had been... Well it wasn't her place to know really, but it was so bloody obvious with the way she sported that smirk some mornings as she mussed with her mane and Velvet Hooves sulked around the place like a wanted criminal with an expression that was guilty as sin.
Really, the way he agonized over his Courtly Love to her while also being in Lust/Love with a girl half his age was positively adorable to watch.
"Your Majesty? What is it that you need the gems here for anyway?"
Platinum didn't answer right away, examining the rope in her hoof. It had been cut part-way, there was no way it could possibly hold her weight. To anypony else it would have looked like nothing more than a bad rope that had worn out. But Platinum knew better. After all, she held the knife to it herself not three hours ago. With a simple flash of her telekinesis, the former princess floated another stake, loop and hammer in a slightly loose portion of the cliff. It too would have a hard time bearing her weight, hence having Velvet Hooves as the anchor. At least, so long as the rope held. In which case no anchor in the world could save her from a long, long, fall. Nothing to recover, nothing to sanctify. Nothing to be turned into a reactionary martyr.
But Velvet Hooves still awaited an answer.
"You know how it is Velvet. Some noble comes across a new vein of gems or precious metals and claims it, then you get other nobles that say it's on their land, then the lawyers get involved and it just becomes a big mess. You know?"
She could easily imagine his nod in comprehension, but not understanding. He was very intelligent that way.
"So really, it's simply a matter of..."
Clink-chsss...
"Getting it out of their grasp."
rumble-POW!
Platinum gave a scream, but it was really just for show. She knew it was coming, had even practiced on cliffs near her palace to get the feel right, just for this moment. A second after the snap, she saw Velvet Hooves hoof reaching out for her, a look of uncomprehending horror on his face, exaggerated by the shadows brought on by the lantern he had hooked to his back. Platinum felt guilty at leaving him like this, but it would be the only way this could happen without him elevating her to sainthood and swear off mares. He deserved to be married, have foals, and while she could live a Virgin life, it would be ludicrous to ask her successor(s) to do the same.
Platinum knew that she would fade out of his sight long before he did hears, so she kept quiet after her one short scream. Don't make it to traumatic. Ten seconds in and it was done. She was out of sight, and no matter what she did now Velvet Hooves wouldn't hear it. Judging by the height of this pit, Platinum had calculated that she would have about a minute of free-fall after she disappeared. Sixty seconds to ponder her life before it came to an end.
Platinum didn't know what to expect, and to be honest she was afraid of what her mind would drift to...
And it turned out she was right to be afraid. Star-Swirl was the first pony to come to mind. What would he think of how she used the skills he taught her? Would he be proud of her accomplishments with Equestria and the fall of the nobility? Or would he be disgusted with the murders, theft, and framing she and her cronies did to bring it all about? Platinum did not have illusions of being a good pony. Quite the opposite in fact. She knew what her final reward would be, and she had accepted that fact long ago. To do otherwise was to delude the mind, and that was the last thing her mind needed to be with what she had been planning.
No, she could take becoming a denizen of Hell, burning for all eternity for what she had done... But the thought that her beloved mentor would damn her along with the Spirits... Odd... She never shed tears, true tears, a day before in her life...
Oddly enough, her mother was next. Platinum barely remembered Queen Argentum, having lost her so young. Oh certainly she recalled things like the shine of her grey mane, her blue eyes and... That was it. Not the sound of her laugh, her lullaby as she put her foal to bed. Did she put her to bed? Or was that just the wet nurse? Why only now, after everything, did these questions come to her? Why didn't she ask Star-Swirl or her father when they were still alive?
Her father... Oh how the nobility broke him, that great stallion. He would have made a Great King, had the nobles let him become one. Would he be proud of his little filly avenging him? Or would he be disappointed in her brutality?
Clover... Only now did Platinum truly understand how this would hurt her. Oh she knew she would grieve... But Clover was so much more willing to experience her emotions than Platinum was, was allowed to be. What a horrible sister Platinum was... To cause her little sister so much pain to soon...
Hurricane. That rascal. That gentlestallion. True at first she considered a single evening with him (an idle fancy, nothing more), but one look at the look in his eyes when he saw Clover, beyond the lust... Well. Out of all the stallions Platinum knew in her life... He was the only one she'd trust with Clover.
Smart Cookie... Out of the other five, she was the only one to figure her out all on her own, the only one to even suspect her hoof in Hurricane and Clover's courtship without being clued in out of necessity. Had she been born with a horn, she would have made a terrifying adversary... Or a vital friend and ally...
Puddinghead... Pansy... Good friends, gone to soon. Would they welcome her? See her off with a few comforting words and warm embraces before she was sent to burn?
Would they even care to tr-?
The hard, cold stone came without warning.
------
The Hideaway
"Ma'am? I think you should take this. And I dare say the Commander ought to as well."
Clover, her dark brown mane now sporting a few locks of grey, looked up from her notes, a look of confusion on her face. Fresh Clippings and her had, surprisingly enough, forged a close friendship, despite the clearly obvious fact as to just who Collard Green's father was (not that either brought it up of course), and thus she knew how Clover preferred not to be disturbed when going over formulas or drafting a speech, even more so when said speech was to be a lecture given at the new university. So what could it be that would get the shy Earth Pony to dig her up from her books? It was still bright out so it was clearly not yet dinner time, and if something was wrong with Hurricane's health she would be much more agitated.
"Yes Fresh, I am coming. I shall be out in but a moment." A gentle breath upon the wet ink, an eagle feather to mark the page of her research book, and a puff of extinguish the candle (a careless keeper loses her work to the flame after all), and Clover joined Fresh Clippings in the hallway. The older mare spoke not a word, simply guiding the unicorn down the halls and down the stairs to the entry hall... Where her Husband and Star Burst (she didn't know he was visiting! Such a sweet colt) waited for her. Among them, Velvet Hooves, Platinum's personal stallion-servant stood, face crestfallen, eyes moist with unshed tears.
"My lady... I bear tragic news..."
Clover couldn't believe it. No. She could believe it. After all, accidents happen every day. It was simply that she didn't want to believe it. The Princess, the mare she trusted above all others to be the god-mother of her children... Dead. How could she be dead? Why must she be dead? There had to be some sort of mistake. There had to be! How could she have been here for breakfast just this morning and be gone scant six hours later? Why? How! How could Velvet be sure? Did he check? Why was he here wounding a poor old mare's heart when he could be looking for her sister to make sure she was all right?
The next thing Clover was aware of, she was being held. A thick forelimb around her shoulders, a strong wing wrapping around her middle. A strong, musky scent filling her nose. A soft, soothing baritone humming in her ear. Hurricane. Ironic, that a stallion named after a raging storm, and known for his loud and boisterous personality... Could be so soothing and calming...
"Shhh lovey. It's going to be all right. You're going to be just fine."
But then, was that same storm not also known for the calm eye in the middle?
Next she could feel herself being rocked. Soon a second body was pressed on her other side. Star Burst. Always a good colt, so sweet, so considerate of his poor mother's feelings.
For some time, the family huddled like that, sharing their grief in silence. And by the time they had all calmed down, Velvet Hooves had already taken his leave. No doubt to both give them their privacy, and to get a little of his own. Clover wiped at her eyes one last time, taking in a deep, soothing breath to steady herself.
"If you will excuse me... I must... I must write to Twinkle. The Press Secretary of the Republic ought to hear about this as soon as can be managed."
The two stallions nodded, watching their wife and mother (respectively) ascend the stairs again. The elder of the two looked to his son. His tone was light, but his face was dead serious.
"So son... Wanna be king of the unicorns?"
Star Burst clearly thought the same thing as his father, of how the old nobility still alive would most likely try to strong-hoof him onto the dead throne of Unicornia. While Aunt Platinum never had any foals of her own, with some clever lawyering one could make the argument that Clover, and thus her children, would be next in line. All his life, Corporal Star Burst had heard the horror stories from his dearly beloved and now departed Aunt Platy. As such, his choice was obvious.
"No way in Hell dad."
The old War Horse smiled.
"That's my colt."
------
Palace of Friendship, Bedchambers of Princess Platinum
Velvet Hooves sat on the bed. Her bed. A bed that now would never again hold her body as she slept. Before him was the Black Room, folded up to look like nothing more than innocent furniture. Never again would she look through the correspondence of the nobility, never again would she uncover and circumvent their plots before they could begin... Never again would he see her lovely features set as she plotted a set-up, a scheme, a blackmail...
At the soft rustle of fabric to his left and behind, Velvet Hooves turned to see the filly. ...The filly, that was what he called her in his mind, though she was already four and thirty years of age, so she was hardly a foal. Especially with those curves, he guiltily admitted himself noticing. Whereas his face was like a dead pony's with grief, with hollowed eyes and slack mouth, her expression was even, her gaze piercing.
"So," she whispered after a moment's silence, "it's true then? The rumors? Our lady is dead?"
Velvet locked eyes with her, held them for what felt like forever. Eventually he broke eye-contact, looking down to his hooves.
"Yes. ... I had her right here and... And she was gone..."
The old stallion gave a soft but heart-wrenching sob, burying his face in his hooves.
"Oh spirits... What are we going to do? What are we going to do? What are... What are we...?"
The knock to his head wasn't enough to do damage, but the pain was enough to jar him from his breakdown. Turning around, the young mare's face was set in resolute determination, as though irritated that he would dare behave so in her presence.
"'What are we going to do?' 'What are we going to DO?' What do you think we will do Velvet Hooves? The nobility are powerless now, and without a dynasty to focus around they are adrift. But don't tell me you are a big enough fool to even entertain the notion that they will fade away willingly Velvet Hooves. That they won't regain their power someday around a charismatic and power-hungry individual. What are we going to do? What we've always done: Observe the nobility, and those they have in their households. See what they are planning. Help it along if it is to the betterment of Equestria. End it if it isn't. Kill them if that is what is needed. Now quit your sniveling. I won't have a colt sharing my bed."
Velvet Hooves sat agog at the reprimand, looking the younger mare in the eye before she broke contact, trotting back into the hidden corridors of the palace. Somehow, her words and actions cut through the fog that had addled his mind all day, and he smiled. Yes. Her Majesty's work was still afoot, much was still needed to be done. He didn't have the skills to run their enterprise, but this youthful mare... She just might be a worthy successor to their secret society...
------
Alicorn Farms
Smart Cookie was enjoying the warm weather on her rocker, sipping a glass of lemonade as she watched her great-grandbabies playing in the sunshine. Most were still Earth Ponies... But a few had wings, and now and again she could make out the burst of light hinting at magic.
"Ahh Star-Swirl," she thought aloud, "if only you could see this in person. It ain't perfect... But it's mighty close."
"Premier Cookie?"
Smart Cookie raised a hoof to her brow to block out the glaring light of the setting sun, mouth drawn up in a half-grimace as she considered the colt before her.
"Dumpling, I haven't been Premier in nearly thirty years, now get off your poor hooves and sit a spell. You look like you've been walking all day."
The colt (well, stallion, but when one got as old as Smart Cookie was now, everypony was a foal) seemed surprised at the invitation, looking one way and the other before squatting down on the steps.
"Go on dumpling, the world's not going anywhere." she poured him a glass of the tart drink from the pitcher. "Here, have some lemonade."
"Thank you ma'am. That's very kind of you."
As the government stallion sipped on his lemonade (the style had changed some, but a government uniform couldn't be assumed to be anything else), Smart Cookie mulled over why Canterlot would send someone to her farm without prior warning. True she was one of the Founders, and the first Head of State of Equestria at that, but she and Clover and Platinum had agreed that the subsequent generations would need to learn not to rely on them; so her, in her old age, being asked to serve once again was a long shot. So what could be so important that an agent would be sent to her in person, with no prior warning? ...Unless something had happened to one of the others.
"Tell me son... Which of us was hurt, and how bad is it?"
The government pony sputtered his lemonade, coughing the tart fluid through his nose as he looked at her with wide eyes. Smart Cookie could only give a tiny smile at his bewilderment.
"Smart Cookie's the name dumpling, don't wear it out. Just answer the question."
And so the agent told her, in the fullest detail he could give. He mentioned that there would be a vigil the evening after tomorrow, and asked if she would be so kind as to speak if she thought she could manage. Cookie agreed. Of course she would speak a few words in remembrance. It was the least she could do for a friend. Of course... It seemed like it was just yesterday when sweet Pansy was taken from them too. And now Platinum, gone so sudden-like. Smart Cookie continued to sit in her rocker long after the government pony left, soaking it all in.
And then, like sunlight from behind a cloud, an old conversation, way back to just before the Constitution Convention, came back to her mind. Platinum had put her support behind the Democratic model of government for Equestria, and Cookie had pulled her aside to ask her why she, a ruling princess, would give it all up without a fight.
'Make no mistake Cookie, in the end the government Equestria has is irrelevant to me. My one, singular goal is this: The total uproot and destruction of the powerbase of the Unicorn Nobility; and doing so in such a way as to keep them from regaining their power for a thousand generations. Everything I do, every action, plot, motion, and thought, has that in mind. Everything else is secondary to that, even my life. Should it come to that, I would slit my own throat, if it meant that the nobles were to end up powerless.'
How odd... That a sixty-year old mare would go spelunking to investigate a gem claim her estate had staked. It all came together. Most of the lines of the Pre-Warming Unicorn nobility were extinct, Platinum's included now, the rest being nobles she herself instated for their loyalty to the throne and her principals. All of the Pre-Warming Noblility's titles, lands, and wealth had defaulted to the throne in lieu of a successor. Had she wanted to, Platinum could have easily restored the days of the Unicorn Absolute Monarchy. But, as Smart Cookie's idle reading of the former Kingdom's history showed, such resurgences of power only lasted three or so generations before the 'status quo' had been restored, and expanded upon. For Platinum, a relatively short-term back-breaking of the nobles wasn't good enough. For her, it had been all or nothing. With no successor for the throne, the Kingdom was truly dead, and the riches in property and wealth would be deposited to the treasury of the Kingdom of Unicorns and Unicornia's Successor State: The Equestrian Republic. Smart Cookie couldn't help it. She laughed. Long and, while not loudly or heartily, then certainly mirthfully.
It wasn't until her youngest daughter, Fine Wine, came out that the old mare realized it was dark.
"Ma? Are you all right? You've been out here for hours it seems."
The old mare looked to the younger one with a start, looking about the now dark porch.
"Oh! Yes. I'm sorry dumpling if I scared you. I just... An old friend has died today." Fine Wine gave a slight gasp. Mother had many friends, and each one felt like family, in some cases almost literally. Already a list of potential names came to mind. No doubt she would be plotting out the list of condolence letters for their kin and half-way to planning the wake come morning. Smart Cookie couldn't help but smile at the mental picture, long given up on the mare's tendency to plot out any sort of gathering. Instead, she stood up on her shaky legs, one part of her mind musing on how, before too long, it would be her turn to be mourned.
"If you don't mind, I'd like a little extra time alone before bed."
"Oh! Yes, of course ma. Do you need hel-?"
"I'm an eighty-four year-old mare Wine, not an invalid. I can go down to the basement just fine dumpling. Just see to the foals please."
And go up and down the stairs she most certainly could do. It was just slower going that it had once been. But eventually she made that last step, and trotted over to the wine rack. It was empty, her family having little taste for the stuff. Except for one bottle, of a three-hundred year-old vintage. A gift from a friend now past. Smart Cookie couldn't think of a better private send off than a quiet libation with a glass of the departed's own stash.
While her eyes were going, her heart wasn't ticking like it once had, and her ears made everything fuzzy, Smart Cookie was pleased that her teeth were just as good as the day they came in, enough so that she pulled the cork out without the need for fancy gadgets. That done, she held out the single wine glass she brought with her and poured a single serving of the red liquid. Recorking the bottle, Smart Cooke placed it back on the rack before holding up the glass, a small smile on her lips, and a hint of a tear in her eye.
"Well played maestro. Your orchestra was well tuned, well trained, and the composition of the symphony was nothing short of masterful. Truly a Magnum Opus for the ages. A pity only we of extreme politics can appreciate your masterpiece."
Smart Cookie tapped the glass to a loose nail to simulate a clink, and downed the wine in one go before placing it upside down on the rack with the bottle.
"Bravo. If only I could request an encore."
------
"Daft foolish mare. Who of proper breeding would go wiggling around in a filthy cave like a common muddy? Especially at HER age!"
Count Pyrite paced before the fireplace of his study, his anger fully on display. It being summer there was no fire lit, but it was the most suitable spot in the room for pacing dramatically. Sadly, the lack of bonfire in its head-high maw took away from the histrionics.
"Oh this is simply a travesty, an utter disaster of untold proportions! The likes of which unseen by the Kingdom since that eternally Damned Warming forty years ago!"
His son Musco, however, lounged on the sofa, reading a book, utterly and magnificently indifferent to his father's ranting. Not noticing the apathy, or simply ignoring it, Pyrite continued.
"Oh, and we cannot simply sneak in the Certificate of Adoption into her records either! Not now! All of her estates have already been collected, her Last Will to be read upon the morrow!"
It was true. Before the official announcement of death was even released, the Royal Lawyer, now out of a job from the looks of affairs, and the Chief Justice of the Court of Justice went about pulling the late King's records. As the Sovereign of the Kingdom of Unicorns and Unicornia, the lands and property of any Noble who died without heirs went to the Throne, and with the House of Æthelric now extinct, no doubt those lands and assets, certainly worth well into the trillions, would default to the state. With so much money and property at stake, no doubt the lawyers would look at every single legal document with a fine-toothed comb, trawling for even the slightest hint of an adoption or an inheritance. With Æthelric's last heir dead, the only true link to restoring the Kingdom, Unicornia, and most importantly the Nobility's position and status of power, was well and truly dead, the legacy of the Lords, Counts, Barons, Dukes and Marquees past tossed to the collective pockets of the unwashed masses.
"Damn her. Damn that daft, stupid, insipid, silly mare to whatever fine eternal torment the Spirits deign to curse her with for ending our glory like this. You see son! This is why it is an unnatural sin against Nature itself for a mare to be granted even a little education! She starts to get it into her silly head that she is a thinking being, one that can conceive a-an-and deal with the harsh realities of this world!"
"Whatever you say father."
"Indeed you should!"
A gentle knock came from the open door. Entering with a tray with a bottle of brandy and a tumbler on one wing, a young pegasus mare in the uniform of the maid-staff walked over to the table near the window.
"I apologize my lord, but I thought after the distressing news of the day that you would desire a drink before bed."
Pyrite glared at the mare for interrupting his rant. However, by all accounts she was in the right. And judging by the label on the bottle the butler who was her supervisor clearly knew his master. After all, no one could reasonably expect a mare to know her way around a liquor cabinet. No sense reprimanding the mare for what her boss told her to do. He would simply direct his reprimand to the butler. Though he wouldn't drink at the moment, he still had a lecture to give to his son. He could ignore his learned father all he wanted, but so long as he was in earshot, the colt would learn something.
"Indeed. Pour one for Musco as well. Then be off. Now Musco, as I was sa-GURGSHK!!"
The knife piercing his neck and poking out the other side came without warning, blood from his jugular and carotid spurting everywhere. Within seconds the count's eyes rolled into his head and he thumped to the floor. Musco, now Count Musco, looked over the now lightly blood-spattered book at the body lying on the floor, and the maid yanking the dagger out, hilt in mouth, with clearly practiced ease.
"You took your sweet time Whirlwind. A few minutes more and I would've tried my hoof at doing the deed myself. A few months of reprieve at university and already I cherish quiet more than his life."
Whirlwind wiped the blood off the dagger with the ex-count's robe before sheathing it in the hidden slit of her uniform. She laughed at the young count's comment.
"Give me a break Musco. Sure my parents were of the Thunder Strike Legion, but this was my first mark. I needed to get psyched up for it." She looked down on the corpse, something resembling pity on her lovely features. "Three years of service... And the only time I remember his face looking even remotely at peace is when he's dead. It's a pity really."
"Yes, a pity that so much was wasted on the likes of him." Up till then Count Musco's face and voice was deadpan and without emotion. As he trotted up to the mare and tenderly removed the headpiece that covered her shortly cropped mane, turning the motion into a caress upon her cheek, his tone turned soft. "And you? And the foal?"
Whirlwind blushed before she could stop herself, smiling at this rare moment of affection. "I'm only two months or so in. I highly doubt we'll be having issues for a while yet."
Musco and Whirlwind locked eyes for a moment, sharing a small smile. And like that the moment was gone, and Musco was back in business.
"Now come on, the gardener will be by with the day's addition to the compost pile any minute now."
Together, the unicorn noble and the pegasus maid picked up the still-warm body to the open window. Eight stories below, scent secured by distance and a standing breeze, a mound nearly five feet high and twice that in diameter sat, consisting of everything from grass-clippings to kitchen scraps to the morning offerings by the servants from the chamber pots of the estates and the dung of the animals of the farm. Nopony other than the elderly and half-blind gardener ever bothered to interfere with the developing compost for nearly three years, and by then little would be left of Pyrite but the bones, and by then they would be indistinguishable from the bones of the occasional pig and fowl carcass tossed in as well.
With grunts of exertion, the two youths heaved at moving the body of the overweight fifty-something onto the window sill when another sound came to their ears.
"What in the world?"
Turning to the still open door with horror (Whirlwind cursed allowed at noticing her mistake), the two saw the Countess standing there, her own tray of brandy held aloft by her magenta magic. Musco looked between his mother and the body of his father and back again before making the attempt to address the situation.
"Mother... Hello. Umm.... Father had a sudden bout of... Uh..."
"The dead?" Whirlwind offered.
"The Dead! Yes! Ghastly stuff that! Uhh, and... We were.... What were we doing Whirlwind?"
"Huh? OH! Well, I was simply doing what you were doing m'lord!" At the oh-so-innocent grin, it was clear that Musco was on his own, and judging by the glare he gave his lover it was obvious he was insufficiently impressed.
Pyrite, meanwhile, continued to drip coagulating blood on the floor. It was really all he was good for, being dead and all.
The Countess, while the comedy-routine in progress went on, walked up to Pyrite's body, examining the stab wound. A moment of silence and she looked between the two younger ponies, a deadpan expression on her face.
"While using the compost pile to dispose of the meat sack is a good one, death by stabbing was a poor choice son. It leaves too much of a mess to clean up, and as you can tell, leaves a noticeable trail that any idiot can use to find out where the body is hidden," she turned her slightly disapproving gaze to Whirlwind, "regardless of whatever 'help' you may have on hoof. Did you think about what would be needed to clean up nearly half a gallon of blood and voided death-fluids?"
It would have been charitable to say that the blank stares the two gave the countess was due to nothing more than being surprised at the wife of the not-at-all-dearly departed giving them advice on post-murder logistics. But that would be a lie. The two clearly were that ignorant. After a moment's silence the countess rolled her eyes with a sigh and floated the bottle of brandy to the bloody smear on the flagstones and pouring the contents. After a few moments, the blood began to bubble, and a thin white smoke began to rise. Acid. And a strong one from the looks of it.
"Poison is the cleanest of murder weapons. And if you manage to lay low and remain inconspicuous, no one would think to investigate the sudden death."
Whirlwind and Musco looked from the frothing blood puddle to the Countess as she made the last steps to the body of her late husband, now perched on the window sill. Without a word, she pushed the dead body, sending it tumbling down to the pile below, the soft landing spot dampening any sound, and half-swallowing Pyrite.
"There, that's that. Musco? I trust you plan on making Whirlwind an honest mare."
Musco couldn't help by cough slightly at that. As a matter of fact he was planning on wedding the maid. And given his response to his sister's choice of a husband, Musco didn't expect his father to react any better to his taking a pegasus wife. At best he'd demand he take her as nothing more than a mistress, but no more than that. It had been the catalyst to this evening's events. He had expected the announcement to be a surprise to his mother, though clearly they had not been as discrete as he had thought.
As though reading his mind, Whirlwind bore what was probably the smuggest grin she ever had in anypony's presence but his.
"Told ya somepony would hear."
The countess looked at the pegasus with something resembling approval.
"In any event, be a dear and fetch me some paper, ink and sealing wax Whirlwind. I must send a letter to Feldspar asking her to move back in if she and her husband are still renting living accommodations. Oh! And to bring the children as well of course. I want to see my grandbabies!"
...And on the twenty-third day in the second month of summer, Princess Platinum died, thus ending the reign of the House of Æthelric after 3332 years to the very day of rule, not with a grand last stand, or a dignified abdication... But with a quiet, undignified and ignominious accident. The brilliance of the architect of the Great Standoff at one end, and the foolishness of a silly mare-child, too caught up in her idle fancies to care about the world outside her window, at the other. Had Platinum even the tiniest fraction of Æthelric's genius and political savvy, how different history could have been. The Nobility no doubt would have been broken once again, the Winter War would most likely have been averted entirely, and Hearth's Warming circumvented, leading to a wildly different Equestria.
Would the Equestria helmed by an intelligent Platinum have been a Monarchy? With Empress Platinum and her marriage to King-General Hurricane sealing the alliance, and Grand Vizier Smart Cookie guiding the bureaucracy of government? Sadly, that different world, possibly even better world, will never be known. For thirteen centuries, with the occasional hiccup, the House of Æthelric stood unrivaled in Unicorn society in their rule. But with the rise of King Mercury to the throne and the Magna Carta, the death warrant for the Dynasty was signed. All that was left was the dying, a slow, tortuous death of increasingly incompetent, decadent, or ineffective kings, culminating in a Princess illegally ascending the throne under the manipulation of Star-Swirl in his scheme of forcing the tribes together against their will. Had Mercury remained strong and refused to sign the Magna Carta, we can only imagine what the Dynasty could have been, and we are now bereft of knowing what the only Pony Dynasty could have been in our time.
--The House of Æthelric, A Burning House of Schemes and Treachery, Vol. Ten of Ten, Chapter Sixty-Seven by Musty Tomes, 1st edition published 399 AW