When Prim entered Griffinstone at Princess luna’s side, the fighting was over. The dark parade of thestral guards and equestrian soldiers marched up the winding main road while the locals looked on.
The griffins of Griffinstone had been forced to suffer for the sake of their king. Their treasures plundered by the crown, their food stores shipped out to feed armies of their drafted children, fighting a war they had no wish to fight. After all, the griffins had no hatred for ponies. Even the king had been driven by greed, not some ideology.
So they watched from their once elegant homes, battered by neglect, with fear and cold acceptance.
The ponies of Equestria’s army tried not to dwell on the cost upon their own citizens, and the appearance of their own shining armor, sharp weapons, and full bellies.
Amongst them all, Princess Luna strode without any of the uncertainty and shame that her ponies felt. A leader could not waver, especially when on the path to victory.
Prim had been by her side across the sea, across battlefields as the war accelerated, and watched Princess Luna’s anger grow. Every step along the way, Luna had found more and more evidence of King Grover’s cowardice. His willingness to sacrifice lives to get a slight advantage, his willingness to let his troops starve, and fight with rusting weapons. She had been a military leader for longer than he had been alive, and she knew honor better than politics. Finally, she was able to come to the source of her anger, the king himself. City besieged, soldiers paid off and bribed with food, the gates had swung open for the Equestrian army without a single drop of blood spilled.
“King Grover!” Princess Luna roared as they all stopped at the steps of the castle.
There was nothing but silence from the castle, and with a sigh, Princess Luna raised a hoof, and waved it forward.
First, a team of ten unicorns stepped forward, and seized the outer portcullis with their magic, heaving the metal grate up just slightly, so a second team could slip a winch below it. Using the winch, and progressively larger bars of iron reinforced wood, they forced the portcullis back into the ceiling of the passageway.
Once the portcullis was secure, six trumpeters stepped out of the ranks and raised their trumpets high, blowing a long simple tune of one low note followed by a higher note, paused and then repeated. Groups of soldiers broke off from the rest, all earth ponies carrying between them massive logs capped with metal ram’s heads. Though the griffins along the roadside could not see it well enough to be sure, griffin feathers ringed the metal cap like a collar, as decoration.
The two groups with the battering rams arranged themselves in front of the great wooden doors, just next to the hinges, and a drumbeat began, sounded out by the hooves of the remaining soldiers surrounding Princess Luna.
In time with the drumbeat, the battering ram teams began to swing and then step back and forth to swing the rams further and further on their ropes, until they finally made contact with a twin report of splintering wood and screeching metal.
But the doors held.
So the teams went through the ritual again, and again. When one pony grew too tired they were replaced, and bit by bit the hinges of the doors were broken free from their moorings, and they had to dive out of the way as the hoof-thick wooden slabs came crashing down, revealing the inner portcullis, and the four bedraggled and terrified royal guards behind it.
They were armed with spears, but with all the confidence of a mare entering a ball to a dance in her own honor, Luna strode up to the gate and smiled.
“Greetings, good sirs. We do believe that thy king has forsaken thee. Left thee upon a gate that shall fall, no matter thy efforts. Stand aside, and thou shalt be spared.”
The guards, so dull in the eyes and weary that Luna could easily mistake them for being magically controlled, looked between themselves. It was a key sign of weakness and uncertainty, one which no royal guard or soldier who was still devoutly loyal to their ruler would show. Two of them stepped away into the doorways into the guardhouse, and one slowly backed away, suspicious of Princess Luna’s sincerity. But the fourth let loose a reedy and weak battle cry and lunged forward to try and pierce Princess Luna’s heart through the bars.
The spear was seized by Prim’s magic and turned aside before it could reach her princess, and then Luna’s horn lit. The griffin’s throat was caught in the light blue glow, and with a single magical shove, it was tossed nearly twenty pony lengths to crash into a stone wall, and come to rest as a crumpled heap at its base.
Luna then lit her horn again, and formed a blade of pure magic, humming with power and glittering like stardust. She used it to melt through the iron bars and form herself a door before striding through to stand over the fallen guard.
Her own guards, Prim, and a few soldiers filed in after her to fill the hall.
“Where is thy king?” Luna asked simply, leaning in close to the broken creature. “Thou shalt not stop us, so speak.”
His eyes closed, and his head turned away slightly, but he was too weak to do anything but ignore her.
Luna just sighed and pointed to the hallways, as her soldiers rushed past her to fill the castle with the sound of their hooves, and their weapons tapping walls in the tight spaces.
The search of the castle was quick. Injured and weary guards did not put up much of a fight. The Equestrian army soon had searched the whole castle and found no sign of King Grover.
Luna sat upon his throne, and had chairs brought up, as well as a bottle of wine she had brought from home, and they were served in the throne room to mark the ending of the war.
“Thirteen years,” Princess Luna said, sighing as she raised a glass and examined it, the wine inside swirling gently from the motion. “Thirteen years of bloodshed and strife, all for the sake of some greed and desperation for supremacy. Tell us that we are not delusional for thinking that the griffins should not be let free from this horror so easily.”
Prim raised her own glass and gently tapped it against Princess Luna's. She smiled wryly and made a toast.
“To a cessation of hostilities, and a large portion of the worth of Griffonia.”
Luna frowned, but toasted and sipped her own wine before continuing.
“What a farce. ‘Tis not the fault of the citizens. ‘Tis the fault of the king, and the nobility who supported him. We wish for their blood and shame, not gold. Politics… We are more suited for the battlefield than this.”
“It may not be so simple, your Majesty,” Prim said as she picked up a sheaf of papers from the table and spread them wide in her magic.
“Ah. The plot,” Luna muttered angrily. “Truly this is worth our consideration?”
“More than a theory, we hath now proof of the Sol faithful’s influence. The Midnight blade’s make was of a gemstone grown by a small rock farm within Lady Shimmer’s domain. She also has had contact with some of the known conspirators and recently visited the lands of the dragons, returning with many rare metals. It is thought she may have obtained Lamentine at that time.”
Luna’s annoyance faded as she pondered it, her gaze distant.
“So this glaring remnant of our sister’s legacy… they hath become suspect as instigators of the war itself?” she asked, looking out of the window at the sky, just starting to tint with the earliest rays of the sun.
“At the very least, suppliers of the weapons which had emboldened King Grover into believing a war would be anything but a rout,” Prim nodded. “But there are signs they encouraged it as well. It seems there were hopes of thy death allowing the Sol Faithful to then take charge of Equestria in thy place and forge a nation of the sun alone.”
“So we destroy them, these Sol Faithful,” Luna said as she turned back towards the table and looked around at the throne room and the first rays of morning light that cast long shadows across the tile floor. “We destroy their cause, in every way. First by showing Equestria what they hath wrought, and then by executing every one of them that we find.”
Prim paled, looking down at her papers with sudden uncertainty.
“Is execution necessary? Imprisonment, or even exile may serve…”
“Not exile,” Luna scoffed. “we refuse to allow these traitors to form a greater threat in a sympathetic country. No, imprisonment would be the least of it. For those who have blood upon their hooves, death. But by thy generous heart we shall spare the bulk of them.”
“My thanks to thee…” Prim said quietly as she gathered her papers back up and sipped her wine, wondering if she would regret not agreeing with Luna to take a more aggressive approach.
“Now, with this bitter affair finished, on to the mundane matters of state. Do we have any military positions unfilled?”
“No, your Majesty,” Prim said as she checked another batch of papers. “Military posts have been filled, the last of these being the captain of the guard, which General Fury has filled, appointing a young commander, Swift Spear.”
“Swift? A stallion?” Luna asked curiously.
“Indeed, your Majesty.”
“We shall see if the post is too much for him then,” Luna chuckled, while she tried to become more comfortable on a throne that was not designed for her.
Prim had in the past thought of stallions similarly, as being incapable of negotiating the complexities of court and politics, more suited for the mindless military squabbles and to be directed by a mare. But after seeing other mares like her being suppressed by similar judgements, Prim found herself bristling at the attitude.
“Perhaps he shall surprise us,” Prim said bravely, smiling.
Then, she made a snap decision.
“In fact, I believe that some of the non military positions may be soon filled with stallions as well. Many of the smithing work and such that supported the war are now left without it. They need jobs to do and I see a long list of jobs within the castle they may be able to fill.”
Luna looked at Prim dumbly, blinking several times before she processed what Prim had said.
“I… Art thou requesting our approval?” she asked Prim.
“No, ‘tis a simple thing, just informing thee of my intent, your majesty.”
“Well! We suppose it is thy prerogative to make such decisions,” Luna conceded. “Then next… we are to review the…”
“The Lunar royalty’s land debates,” Prim said happily.
“Ah yes, a summary, please,” Luna said.
“Well, the elder royals such as Mint Mortar, Steel Shield, Joint, and the others have formed a sort of agreement among themselves that they shall settle primarily on the borders of the younger royals’ lands, as the youngers are less likely to gather serfs or employ many ponies and thus encroachment shall be permitted. Already some of the children who are more business minded--”
“Nova,” Luna said with a grin, getting a smile and a nod from Prim.
“--Have raised the issue to my attention. As they see it, their auntie Rose may be more capable of dissuading the encroachment than openly hostile tactics such as walls.”
“Well, what solution dost their dear Auntie Rose seek to implement?” Luna asked curiously.
“Well, many displaced citizens are in need of places to live and work to do, I propose that we begin resettling the displaced to those borders on the children’s land, and push to foster friendship between the serfs and these resettled ponies. Thus, natural encroachment shall cease and these resettled ponies may serve as a non serf population of benefit on the land of the children.”
“Certainly an elegant solution, but an expensive one. Resettlement already shall deplete our treasury significantly. How shall the cost be offset?”
“Well, for one I had thought we may split the cost with Prince Spring.”
Luna’s expression darkened as she shook her head.
“Thou art well aware of our feelings regarding taking from our sister’s coffers,” she said as Prim sighed.
“While the Spring family hath not a qualm over it. His newlywed wife gains riches from it, unchecked, while we must balance our own budget oh so gently!”
“A Princess has a right to her wealth,” Luna reminded her. “Forget not thy place, Prim. We have no sway upon the court of day.”
“Then a request. Please, your majesty, allow me to ask them to share in the cost of resettlement.”
“But then what shall be our policy on this?” Luna asked angrily. “To go begging on every cost, ‘Oh dear Prince, wouldst thou be so kind as to spare a pittance for the bereft Lunar court? We are so very poor at caring for our finances.’ No, Prim. We have pride yet, and some methods. We shall make the resettlement an optional affair, and we shall employ an additional tax upon the residents. A tax of five percent to the Lunar treasury atop any taxes implemented by the children upon their land.”
“A heavy burden upon already poor ponies,” Prim cautioned.
“Relocation includes a homestead, seed, a pair of bovine to perform labor and provide milk, and much more. ‘Tis a burden yes, but an investment as well. They shall most certainly benefit from it. Atop it all, ‘tis an optional thing!”
“Very well,” Prim nodded. “I see the reason of it, we shall write up the papers and have it all deployed with haste. The solar court shall not hear from me.”
“Then it is done. Now… For what we shall do with Griffinstone…”
Princess Luna waved to one of the royal guards. Once she was next to her, Luna began to list off orders.
“Bring me the highest ranking griffin still in the city, for… Negotiations. Begin distributing food to the citizens here. Strip their guards of all weap--”
There was a clattering in the halls, and shortly a well dressed but dirty griffin was dragged into the throne room by a trio of soldiers.
“The first has already been taken care of, your Majesty,” the guard said proudly.
Luna used her magic to take the legs of the griffin, stilling him so the soldiers did not have to fight to keep him still.
“Thy name.”
The griffin spat on the floor.
“Give us thy name or we shall raze the castle,” Luna growled, stepping down to get closer.
“Gratin! But I shall not tell thee of our king! Not upon my own life!”
Princess Luna laughed, shaking her head and releasing the magic grip on him.
“We care not for thy king. No, we care for the terms of thy surrender and as thy king is gone, thou shalt act as the representative for Griffinstone.”
“We do not surrender!” He shouted in reply, despite his wavering voice.
“Then we shall raze the castle,” Luna whispered as she stepped even closer, nose to beak. “Burn thy history and pride to rubble. Then, if thou art unwilling to bow before us, thou shalt be executed and the next in line located. The streets of Griffinstone shall run red with the blood of nobleman, and then all of Griffonia shall be annexed. A minor outlying principality of Equestria, ruled over by Prince Spring's firstborn, whenever he has one. We shall ruin thy legacy and laugh the whole way, or a bargain may be struck. Speak, which shall it be?”
The noble griffin stepped back in shock, looking around at the ponies, who betrayed not a hint of surprise or objection at the plan.
“Terms of sur-r-render?” He whimpered.
“Indeed. Here, a point at which to begin. All of thy metal reserves, a portion of thy crops for ten years, twelve buildings in thy land of our choosing, the land they stand upon, the unlimited right to enter and cross thy land, and the right to appoint or remove the monarch as we see fit.”
He spluttered and nervously clawed at the tile before finally coming up with an objection.
“Our metal reserves are relied upon for… construction, tools, plows… perhaps a half of it could be spared?”
“Three quarters, and only iron, copper, and tin shall be left behind,” Luna said quickly, still not backing down from her imposing stance.
“V-v-very well… the castles and forts shall be excluded from the buildings of choice,” he pressed, gaining some boldness.
“Then we shall take twice as many buildings, but none shall be royal or noble built,” Luna nodded. “So that we shall avoid coming to blows over what a Fort truly is.”
At last, Luna returned to her seat, as the griffin felt brave enough to raise another point.
“We would keep our autonomy… thou shalt appoint only griffins, from a pool of candidates proposed by the griffonian nobility, and shall only remove them if the nobility agrees.”
Luna sipped her nearly forgotten wine as she looked him over, then she looked to Prim.
“What dost thou think, Lady Rose? A pool? Agreements to depose? It seems flimsy…”
“Then why have a king?” Prim asked. “They could rule by noble council, and thy domain could be as head of the council, your Majesty.”
Luna smiled wide and nodded as she looked back to the griffin and chuckled.
“Then so shall it be… dost thou agree, Chancellor Gratin?”
“Chancellor?” He asked breathlessly, his eyes wide and gleaming with greed and visions of even more power.
“Indeed. We shall require at least one member of the council to punish if the terms are not held,” Luna smirked. “Is an agreement made, Gratin?” she asked more forcefully, leaning forward. She did not want to delay the process even further.
“Yes, your Highness,” he finally bowed, and the war was officially over.