“What the buck?” Skychart said, the stallion’s voice ticking up slightly as he swore.
Gilda looked up from the counter she was working on, a nail held in her beak as she narrowed her eyes to glare at the pony. The pegasus was a good worker, but like all ponies he was easily distracted by the stupidest of things. At the moment he was standing just inside the open door, looking out into the town square, his orange wings drooping against his sides. She spat out the nail and set the hammer on the counter top. “Whatever it is, I doubt it’s worth not doing your job.”
Greta came out of the back of the shop and walked over to the stallion, reaching up to grab his yellow mane to pull him back inside, but froze with her talons above his head. She stared out of the door a few moments before her tail dropped to the floor with a thump. She looked back at Gilda, the white feathers of her face coated with a thin layer of soot, the green highlights tinted gray. “Gilda, you gotta’ see this.”
Rolling her eyes, Gilda leapt over the half-finished counter and made her way to her friend and employee. “It had better be good. We have no time to waste flapping around like… this…” she trailed off, her eyes growing wide as she reached the door.
The shop itself opened up onto the large square at the center of Griffonstone. With broken buildings on every side of the square and a large dead tree sitting at the center of it all, it was less than inspiring. The top of the tree had broken off during the storms of last winter, and the ground was still littered with the debris.
Princess Celestia was standing alone next to the dead tree, with no sign of any guards or armed ponies around her. Her hair was fluttering in the breeze as she looked from left to right across the square. She looked exactly like Gilda had imagined her: with pure white fur, an iridescent mane, and wearing enough gold to buy most of the town. She did nothing else, she just stood there with her brow furrowed, like a mother whose hatchling had just fallen from the nest.
Her arrival seemed to have attracted the attention of every griffon in town. They had started to collect into the square, but none of them risked getting close to Celestia, creating a buffer around her. She just watched the gathering crowd, her eyes sometimes flicking up to look at the damaged castle that sat high above the town in the old stone tree.
“What is she doing?” Gilda asked in a whisper, glancing down at Skychart to see that the pegasus was gone.
A moment later the princess answered that question as she cleared her throat loud enough to get the attention of every griffon in earshot. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I need an audience with your current leaders,” she said, her voice loud enough to echo throughout the town. It had a warmth and kindness to it that seemed out of place with the power that it carried.
Silence fell over the square as every eye turned to look at Celestia.
After a moment there was a clank of metal on stone, which repeated every few seconds as it grew louder. It was coming from the far side of the square, which made it hard for Gilda to see, but the crowd soon parted to reveal Grandpa Gruff.
The old griffon was walking straight for the princess, using a beaten up shovel as a cane. He moved slowly, taking far longer than was necessary to reach her, stopping only a wing span away. With a grunt, he threw the shovel down, sending it skidding across the broken stone pavers towards Celestia. She lifted one hoof and brought it down on the rusted spade, stopping its motion with a dull thump.
“If you want to talk to our king, then you can go dig him up. He’s buried over there,” he said, pointing off into the distance. Then with a snort, he adjusted his fez and headed back into the crowd.
Slowly, the princess lifted her hoof from the shovel and placed it back on the ground. “Then to whom can I speak? Is there a regent?” she asked, then paused as if she was waiting for an answer, but from the cant of her ears it was clear she wasn’t expecting one. “Is there a mayor?”
A cough was the only thing to break the silence.
“There must be someone in charge here, someone with some authority. Who would that be?”
The only sound was from the wind blowing through the branches of the dead tree.
Celestia frowned and slowly cast her gaze around the plaza. There was a moment when her eyes fell upon Gilda, and the griffoness wilted slightly under the weight of it. It lasted only for a moment before moving on.
Finally, the princess spoke again. “There have been a number of recent repairs to the plaza, and to those buildings,” she pointed at Gilda’s shop with her wing. “Someone must have coordinated those, who was it?”
A few moments passed before a number of griffons spoke as one. “Gilda,” they said, a few of them turning to point in her direction.
Celestia nodded and started walking across the square, the crowd parting around her.
Greta fluttered her wings and took a step back inside, looking like she was about to vanish to wherever the stallion had gotten too, but Gilda reached out and grabbed her by the base of her tail, holding her in place. “You’re not going to leave me here alone with a princess,” Gilda whispered.
“You’re the one who went to a pony school!” her friend snapped, a hint of panic in her blue eyes.
“It’s not like they teach us how to bow and scrape to her like an idiot pony!”
“I would much rather you act like a smart griffon than an idiot pony,” Princes Celestia said as she came upon them. “Miss Gilda, may I come in? There is much that we need to speak about.”
A feeling of dread crashed down upon Gilda as she turned back to look up at the princess. She was used to being taller than every pony she met, but Celestia loomed over her. The sun was shining behind her, reflecting off her regalia, causing her fur to glow and making her floating hair look ethereal. She looked down at Gilda with a small smile on her face, one that almost appeared genuine.
Gilda let go of Greta’s tail, allowing her friend to rush back into the shop. She wanted to hold her own against this pony who just decided to show up and create a scene in the center of town. She wanted to snap and yell at her, but she held her beak. Even griffons knew you didn’t screw around with a princess.
Instead she looked the princess in the eye, a little surprised to discover that they were a dark violet. She had always assumed they would have been some shade of gold to match the sun. Celestia returned the look, her eyes narrowing just slightly as her ears twitched. “Fine!” Gilda finally snapped, spinning around and walking back into the bakery, not even bothering to hold the door open for the mare.
There had been a number of things Gilda had expected from her life: going to flight school and being better than everypony there, then getting a job that was all about being awesome. In retrospect it wasn’t what one would call a plan, but it was more than most of the feather brains she grew up with ever had. Instead she had become a baker, and she enjoyed it.
It made other griffons happy, something that was extremely rare in Griffonstone (with one exceedingly annoying exception) and her scones were popular enough that she couldn’t keep up with just her little cart. She had spent the last few months, and all her bits, to convert an old husk of a building on the edge of the square into a proper bakery and home. Skychart had managed to scrounge up three stoves from somewhere in town, and Greta was getting them installed in the kitchen. Once they were installed she could finally open up the shop. It had been hard work to get so many griffons to repair the building and the paving stones outside, but she had managed to bring them together long just enough to do the job.
Now all that work had attracted the attention of the ruler of Equestria.
Celestia stepped into the shop, lowering her head so her horn could pass under the threshold. Once inside she shut the door with her magic, the latch closing with a heavy thud that sounded louder than it should have. The princess looked around the shop, glancing at the covered windows and then to the still unfinished display counter.
She turned to Gilda, giving her a warm smile that made her eyes glitter. “Hello Gilda, it’s a pleasure finally meet you. Both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash have spoken highly of you in their letters to me.”
“Thank you…” Gilda replied, not quite sure how she should respond to that.
The princess walked to one of the tables in the center of the bakery, pulling out a chair and settling herself down upon it. Gilda was actually surprised to see that Celestia was wearing saddle bags, each one made from white silk with her cutie mark emblazoned upon them. At a distance they blended into her ample flanks, but up close they were easy to see.
Celestia motioned for Gilda to take a seat across from her. “I had hoped that I would be able to speak with you on this visit, but not so soon. I had truly wished that there would be some remnants of your government left intact, but there isn’t even a dog catcher.”
That made Gilda snort as she sat down at the table. “Government? I would think you of all ponies would know better than that.”
A wary smile flickered over her face. “There is a difference between knowing, and hoping.”
Suddenly Greta was standing at the side of the table, setting down a tea kettle, steam curling up from the spout. “Some tea, Princess Celestia?” she asked as she put down a pair of empty tea cups. She had cleaned all the soot out of her feathers in an attempt to look presentable, but it only left her looking slightly damp.
“Thank you. That would be delightful,” the princess said, giving the hen a warm smile.
Greta nodded and carefully picked up the kettle in her talons to fill both cups. Without another word she set the kettle down and returned to the back of the shop, leaving Gilda alone with the princess. Celestia carefully picked up her cup in her golden magic, and took a sip at it.
Gilda didn’t care about the tea and pushed the cup away. Instead she sat there and tapped the tips of her talons on the table top as she waited for the princess to speak, but the mare just stayed focused on sipping her tea.
Finally, Gilda sighed and fanned her wings out slightly. “Well then princess, what do you want from me?”
Celestia set her cup down and gave Gilda a serious look. “I need your help to save the Griffon Kingdom.”
Ponies! They were all crazy, from the youngest filly all the way to the princesses themselves. “If you came here just to tell jokes, you can trot your thot plot right out of my shop.”
The princess let out a soft snicker. “While I do enjoy an occasional prank upon well meaning ponies, I assure that this is not the case. I wish to help the Griffon Kingdom, and at this moment you are in the best position to help me do that.”
“How? How could I possible help you!?”
“I wish to annex the Kingdom and make it a protectorate of Equestria. This is similar to the arrangement we made with the Crystal Empire after it returned. Your nation would remain semi-independent, keeping your own government and laws as long as they do not violate the third great charter. All citizens of the Kingdom will become citizens of Equestria and will be granted all the same rights and privileges as any pony,” Celestia said.
Gilda stared at the princess, now sure that the mare had completely lost her mind.
“In return we would be willing to help you rebuild your government and basic social services, as well as providing aid in the way of food, medicine and bits. After the initial work to rebuild and stabilize your government ponies will act mostly in an advisory role.”
Gilda ran her talons across the surface of the table, but not hard enough to dig into the wood. Most of the griffons in town were always hungry, pretty much every home was in disrepair, and the cold killed dozens of griffons every winter. There were no guards or fire patrol and if you were sick you had to go to a pony hospital or just prayed you got better. If a griffon wanted to do more than just sit on their tails, they had to go to Equestria. No griffon would admit it, but the whole country was in desperate need of help.
And now the princess was offering it.
“How can you do that? You can’t just show up and tell us that you’re taking over… can you?” Gilda asked.
The princess took another sip of tea before answering. “I cannot simply come in and take over your country, not if I wish it to have any meaning. I need more than that, I need some form of government to sign a treaty and accept the bits.”
Gilda let out a snort. “Which doesn’t exist.”
“That is why I need your help,” Celestia said, opening her saddle bag and floating out a number of papers. “While you do not have a government, your old laws still hold sway. In the Griffon Kingdom a King’s Regent can be appointed to rule in the King’s stead when he is unable to do so because of age or health. The Regent has all the powers of the King, and effectively is the King in all but name. There are two ways to appoint a griffon as the regent. One is by the King himself, the other is by a vote of the Council of Nobles.”
“The king is dead and all the nobles ran off to Equestria before Gruff was hatched. So, unless you want to bring them all back here, none of this matters,” Gilda replied.
Celestia shook her head and lifted a single sheet of paper with her magic to show it to Gilda. “There will be no need to involve the nobles. Not one of their families have paid any taxes or tributes in sixty years. By the old laws they have lost all claims to their lands and titles, and the only requirement to be on the Council of Nobles is to own land in the Kingdom.”
“So?”
The princess set the paper down. “There are no nobles to lay claim to the land, and while there are a number of roundabout laws, it effectively means that those who live on the land have taken ownership of it.”
Gilda shrugged her wings. “Yeah? But so what?”
The smallest of smiles appeared on the princess’s face as she sat a bit higher in her seat. “As I said, the only requirement to be on the council is to own land. You do not have to be a noble or even hold a title. The griffons of Griffonstone own the land they live on, and by owning the land they make up the Council of Nobles. That grants them the power to appoint a King’s Regent, who in turn will have the power to sign the treaty with Equestria. Once it’s signed, they will have to ratify it by the same process, but for Equestria only my signature is needed.”
Gilda let out a snort, crossed her forelegs and scratched her feathers with the tips of her talons. “Fine, fine. You’re going to pull off a bunch of political bullshit and create a government just so they can sign the country over to you. What do you even need my help for?”
“Because at the moment, you have the respect and attention of many of the griffons in town,” Celestia said, the smile vanishing from her face. “That’s more than I can claim. I need you to help rally those griffons to vote for a new regent, and they need to be fully aware of what is going to happen when they do. They need to know what they are going to gain… and lose.”
Gilda slumped down in her chair, lowering her head to rest her beak on her chest, trying hard not took back up at the princess. This was the most insane thing she had ever heard, it couldn’t possibly work. No griffon would vote to give their country to Equestria! She wasn’t even sure that she would vote for that.
It only took her a few moments to realize that she would. If it meant getting all the things that ponies had, she would vote to give them everything. But she went to a pony school, so of course she wouldn’t mind ponies in charge. What about the average griffon, what would they want?
She lifted her head and glanced towards the counter, where Greta was watching everything. Her friend had spent her whole life in Griffonstone, she would be much more likely to act like a normal griffon.
“What do you think?” Gilda asked.
Greta sighed and fluttered her wings a bit. “Anything is better than what we have now.”
“So, I must leave this in your claws and hope that you will be willing to make it happen,” Celestia said.
That got a sad chuckle from Gilda. “So I’m pretty much your last choice.”
“I wouldn’t go as far to say that,” the princess replied, using her magic to pick up the kettle and refill her tea cup. “What you are is exactly the sort of griffon that I need. One who other griffons trust and one who cares enough about where you live to try and improve it. While I would prefer to have some existing government to work with, you are the best choice I have.”
Celestia looked at her over the top of her cup, the smile back on her face even it was half hidden. There was also a look of excitement in her eyes, along with a touch of worry that she couldn’t quite hide. “And because as much as I wish to, I cannot do this alone.”
Gilda hesitated for a moment, looking around the shop in hope of some sort of distraction or even inspiration. All she saw was Greta looking back from the counter, and Skychart’s orange nose peeking in from the back room, but he dove back behind the door the moment he was spotted.
Finally she turned her attention back to the princess, who was just sitting there sipping her tea. “And you promise that this will make things better? Not just a griffon promise, but one of those unbreakable pony promises Dash tells me about.”
“I hope it will make it better,” Celestia responded.
Even a hatching could see exactly what the princess wasn’t saying. This wasn’t some storybook where a triumphant hero would show up and put everything to rights. Celestia’s plan could fail, or even make everything worse than before… but it could also work. It could help restore the Griffon Kingdom to what it once was. Though most griffons would just settle for having a warm nest and full bellies.
The princess was offering a lot, and she would need the help of every griffon to make it happen. And she was looking to Gilda to get that help.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” Gilda finally said. “I’ll get them to pick a regent, but you’re going to explain to them why.”
Celestia sagged slightly in her seat, her wings dropping as she closed her eyes, a long breath escaping from deep inside of her. “How long do you think it will take?”
With a chuckle, Gilda pushed back from the table. Ponies might like to take ages to deliberate and to debate about every little thing, but griffons were all about action. No griffon ever changed their minds by waiting around to make a decision. “Let’s find out,” she said, heading towards the door of the shop, the princess following a few moments later.