//------------------------------// // If You Want Peace, Prepare for War // Story: Diplomacy // by 8686 //------------------------------// The highest levels of the West Tower, like many of the taller spires in the city of Canterlot, were reached by a winding, exterior staircase that hugged the alabaster walls. At various heights the stairs met balconies and doorways offering access to the interior before continuing its serpentine ascent, and at the very top the stairs terminated in a final flat balcony that ringed the summit with an iron guardrail. It was here that Luna alighted, and Spike dropped from her back onto the ground. Luna put on a small smile, then raised her muzzle and held one hoof to her chest. “Thank you for flying Luna Airways. We understand you have a choice in magical flying ponies and we are grateful for your custom.” Spike couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Heh! You know, thinking about it? I’m probably the first one now who can say they’ve flown on all four Princesses,” said Spike.* “Indeed?” said Luna. Then, after a certain pause, “And...?” “Definitely a smoother ride than Air Twilight,” offered Spike. “Though, I guess you’ve got more flight-time under your saddle than she has.” “Indeed. I believe that if I were to add together all the time I have been in flight over the course of my lifetime, it would likely amount to a greater number of hours than those which Twilight Sparkle has lived. Not that I am bragging.” She walked to the single wood-and-glass door that allowed entrance to the highest room of the West Tower. She didn’t knock, simply entered. And Spike followed. The room beyond was, at first glance, similar in size and shape to the main room in the old tree library in Ponyville – circular and with a large round, raised table at its core which seemed to be made of crystal. Around the room’s circumference were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crammed with volumes. Spike took it in. Princess Celestia stood at an open, arched window twice as tall as it was wide on the far side of the room, beside a tripod-mounted telescope trained at a sharp angle upward on the mountain peak. At their entrance she turned and regarded her sister, and finally Spike, whom she greeted with a simple, straight-faced nod before returning her attention to her sibling. “Sister? You have brought Spike here personally?” “Our citizens grow more frightened and restless by the hour,” replied Luna. “Perhaps seeing one of their Princesses walking in amiable company with a dragon who is demonstrably friend, not foe will ease their worries. And it is well I did: I fear the Guard company you sent accosted Spike at the station. They were prepared to drag him here by force before I intervened.” Celestia blinked in surprise. “They should not have been heavy-hooved,” she said, a level frown forming. “The Guard cannot go around strong-legging citizens, Luna. We cannot be seen to condone, or tolerate, such behaviour.” “And we do not. But the Guard are already at their limit trying to accomplish difficult tasks in total secrecy on a metropolitan scale. I am proud of the way they are holding up, all things considered. I have delivered appropriate chastisement to those involved and they will not repeat their error,” replied Luna. “And our friend Spike has been nothing but understanding.” Celestia seemed to consider this for a moment, before finally she turned to regard him with a subtle, small smile. “Thank you for coming, Spike,” she said. Then the smile was gone, replaced by that strange, emotionless intensity. Spike looked towards her. “So, uh... I’m here. Though, not quite sure where ‘here’ is. Did that guard call this the War Room?” Celestia shot a glance at her sister on the far side of the room, so brief as to go unnoticed except by her counterpart. Then her gaze fell once more to Spike, and she decided to offer an explanation. “Officially it is the Warfare and Offensive Preparation Room, but ‘War Room’ has become a natural shorthand.” She lit her horn and at once the surface of the crystal circular table bloomed to life, a magical, colourful representation of Equestria forming in three dimensions before his eyes. It would have been impressive, were it not a trick he had seen before. “Hey... that looks just like the Map in Twilight’s castle!” “The similar physical manifestation is simple coincidence,” said Celestia. “This table is nearly a thousand years old, and the magical enchantments that empower it are quite different than those in Twilight’s table. Twilight’s Map is connected to the Tree of Harmony. The Tree spreads its roots far and wide in the earth, connecting it by degrees to all of Equestria. As far as we can determine, when it senses disharmony in need of repair, it uses the map to summon aid. This...” she looked down at the table, “This is simple holography combined with magical representations of various mathematical equations designed to simulate a large number of variables. Very basic by comparison.” “Would that we could combine the two,” said Luna. “Imagine – actionable, real-time intelligence from every corner of Equestria...” “And an egregious invasion of privacy at every level,” admonished Celestia. Luna pouted. “There are days, sister, when you are no fun at all.” “Yes,” conceded Celestia with a veiled sigh. “And I fear today is one of them.” She turned her attention back to Spike. “This room, in one form or another, has existed for a very long while. After Princess Luna was banished a thousand years ago I feared that with Equestria in a state of perceived weakness, other powers – less friendly in those times – might seek to take advantage. I felt it necessary to prepare for any scenario that might threaten Equestria’s safety. In the event my fears proved unfounded and its use waned. Until relatively recently, in fact. In recent moons we have been forced to confront the fact that our way of life has rested upon the edge of a knife once too often.” Luna spoke up. “Equestria is no stranger to catastrophe. But the threats with which we have traditionally contended have all been of a kind. Nightmare Moon, Discord, Tirek, King Sombra... all wielding immense, devastating power, yes, but singular entities all the same. In the past my sister and I, or the Elements of Harmony, or their bearers, have been able to contend with and repel such foes. In terms of matching one-on-one power, Equestria is well catered-for.” She gave Spike a level look. “But powerful, individual villains are not the only kind of danger we may face. Large-scale conflict is ever a real possibility. The first Changeling invasion was a wake-up call in that respect, and your-and-Twilight’s experiences as a result of Starlight Glimmer’s temporal manipulation of Twilight’s map have made for... sobering reading.” “Indeed. The safety of Equestria is too important to be left solely to the whims of...” Celestia trailed off, and she met Luna’s eyes with a strange, bemused look, and one that was returned. “What?” asked Spike. Both Princesses broke their gaze and looked down at him. Celestia said, “We have never settled on a name for it. ‘Destiny’ implies a concrete future, and ‘Fate’ is too... fatalistic, for want of a better word,” she added. “But there is a... force... guiding our paths. Yours, mine, Equestria’s. My sister and I sense it; feel it. It is a shadow just beyond vision, the lightest touch on our shoulders to steer us, but it is there.” “This provident force shapes our world and our lives and protects us by some measure. We... we choose to believe it has an ‘affinity’ for Equestria, and possibly for ponies in particular, and so it acts to keep our world in good health. But it is unlikely to last forever, and if one day it were to depart and leave us deprived of its benevolent shroud, we cannot afford to be a turtle stripped of its shell. We must be prepared.” Celestia gave a long pause then, and finally lowered her head back to the table. “In darker ages, in distant lands, there were those who reigned by the sword. Bloodthirsty tyrants eager to seek glory in battle after battle; to validate their authority and widen their empires through violence and subjugation.” Her eyes softened, just a little. “But for as long as my sister and I have been in power, Equestria has been ruled as a land of peace and friendship. For a millennia and more we have expanded our influence and our borders not through conquest, but through care and understanding with our equals.” “Take Yakyakistan for example,” continued Luna, and the holographic map moved to expand the northern reaches, guided by her aura. “For many hundreds of moons a hard border existed between Equestria and the homeland of the yaks, and now, by mutual agreement... it is simply gone. Ponies and yaks are free to come and go, to trade and fraternise as they wish and all because we have taken the effort to build trust and mutual respect.” She met Spike’s gaze. “This is how we wish to rule our land: according to the principals of love and tolerance. But our methods come with a price, and that price is ignorance and inexperience in the art of warfare.” Celestia nodded. “I am proud to say that for as long as I have lived, Equestria has never fought a true war. Rare skirmishes perhaps, but a true military campaign with combatants numbering in the thousands, perhaps tens-of-thousands? That is a horror that has never visited us. A conflict of such sheer scale, were it upon us, could not be quelled by my sister and I alone. The Elements of Harmony could not hope to have effect on an entire army stretching across a vast battlefield. We possess no ‘magic arrow’ that could stifle true war at a stroke and so, if the time ever came when a hostile force committed to projecting its full military might against us... we would have no choice but to take up arms to defend ourselves. But my sister and I cannot risk making tactically inept decisions against a more experienced strategic mind. Not when the safety of all we hold dear might be at stake. And so we must practise and prepare for a day we hope never arrives, hence this room.” “We challenge each other and the Guard Captains regularly in Games of War,” said Luna. “I liken it to chess. Using this table we can simulate an incursion using our own knowledge to guess the likely strength of force and method of attack. We develop strategies to counter them and allow them to play out. Effective tactics are written down and stored in the books you see on the walls, to ensure we do not forget. Over time we refine, improve, and play again.” She turned her full attention to the tabletop now, still hovering over Yakyakistan. “There is a degree of randomness in every instance, but a basic scenario should demonstrate the point: let us use the Yaks as our antagonists, and I will show you how Equestria wages war,” said Luna, her aura intensifying slightly. The map changed slightly, the snowy region to the north of Equestria suddenly adorned with various symbols and colours. A large patch of yellow seemed to represent the Yak army, while a smaller blue splodge appeared to account for friendly troops. Spike tried to make sense of the rest of it, but he was largely mystified. Luna regarded it critically and began a running commentary. “It seems the Yaks have amassed a sizeable contingent comprising most of their military forces. Rather than attempt to invade via the stronghold of the Crystal Empire, they have wisely circumvented it and now stand within striking distance of Tall Tail Town. The Guard presence there is low, and all signs are that the Yaks are preparing to attack. Our reinforcements are ready to be dispatched, but even our fastest pegasi will not reach them soon enough to dissuade an offensive. Let us assume that all attempts at diplomacy have failed,” she said, and then looked to Spike. “What should we do?” Spike looked up, surprised, and almost managed to choke on something that wasn’t there. He didn’t know! Why ask him?! But Luna continued to stare, awaiting an answer. “Um... well, don’t we have to stop them from attacking somehow?” he said. That sounded good. Celestia shook her head, a little sadly. “The only way to prevent an attack would be to strike first. To try and disrupt and cripple their ability to mount an offensive. It is possible with the forces we have. But equally, it cannot be done.” “Why not?” Luna replied. “Because Equestria will never begin a conflict,” she said. “It is our guiding principle, and one we are committed to. We will never fire the first shot because in every single moment until the first arrow flies, there remains the chance that it may not be fired at all. We would not waste a single opportunity to try and halt a conflict before it can start, but the instant the first bow-string is released... it has started. And thereafter stopping it becomes immeasurably more difficult.” She gave him a quick glance. “You will note that even though the dragons above have technically invaded us, we have not begun bombarding the mountaintop with trebuchets.” “Okay,” said Spike. He looked back at the table. “But if we can’t attack the yaks and there aren’t enough Guards to defend the town, how do we stop them?” “We don’t. Not here, not yet,” said Luna. “The Guard will be instructed to evacuate the village and get its ponies to safety. When the enemy moves in they will meet token resistance before the Guard retreat also. The intent will be to keep casualties on either side as close to zero as possible.” Her voice had taken on a slightly cold edge, hard and calculating. “But... those ponies’ homes... that town?” “A sacrifice. We will take care of our ponies, but as of now, this is war.” “The enemy will have little interest in ravaging the village itself,” said Celestia. “They will believe they have taken us by surprise, and their goal will be to reach and conquer Canterlot as quickly as possible.” “To that end, I will dispatch our reinforcements... here,” Luna said, indicating a small valley about half-way between the enemy troops and Canterlot. “The enemy will be emboldened by their early, decisive victory and the weather conditions that – rather conveniently – favour them. They will move swiftly to cross the open country, moving further from their homeland and deeper into our wilderness. Should they stray too far from our preordained path, they will find their scouts harried by the Guard, or the weather will suddenly take a turn for the worse. We will make the land less than hospitable in any direction other than the one we intend. They will forge onwards with building confidence at the lack of resistance and all the while, subtly and carefully, we will contain and guide them to where we wish them to be.” The mass of yellow moved slowly but certainly closer to Canterlot. But now the blue shapes were moving too. Dividing to the left and right of the yellow mass and forming a horseshoe shape, they seemed to allow it to move between them as it entered the valley. “I will send a detachment to secure the village they have left behind and garrison it with enough might to prevent any reinforcement. The remainder of our forces will surround the enemy once they have reached the valley. Only when it is too late will they realise they have found themselves deep in enemy territory, trapped by geography and weather, magic and steel. They will find their supply-line cut and any hope of communication or aid gone. They will find their boldness vanishing very quickly indeed.” Spike looked on in quiet awe. It was an elegantly simple plan, just on a massive scale. The yellow blob concentrated in the valley, surrounded now on all sides by a thin ring of blue. “What... what happens now?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer. “Now? We unleash upon them the most devastating weapon we possess,” said Luna, looking down her muzzle at the table. “Kindness.” There was no change in her icy expression or her cold, piercing gaze. She might just as well have said ‘exploding arrows.’ ‘Kindness’ in this context was a tactic; a tool, nothing more. “We wait until the enemy has realised they are entirely at our mercy,” explained Luna without inflection. “And then we show them mercy. Rather than attack and destroy, we send ponies to talk and help. We send wagons to replenish their dwindling supplies of food and water. We offer to treat any sick and wounded, and give them warm blankets and hot cider for the cold nights. Day after day we flood their camp with friendly, smiling ponies that mingle and live among them, so that a day does not go by when one of their soldiers does not see a pony showing them compassion or sharing a kind word. Before long, friendships will form as a natural consequence of sustained, repeated interaction. Drop by drop, their will to wage war against Equestria will be sapped from them like poison drawn from a wound. Finally we encourage them to write home to their families, and we deliver their letters in good faith. We make it clear that, as far as we are concerned, they will all get to go home and see their loved ones again.” Luna looked up from the table while Celestia met Spike’s gaze, picking up the commentary. “The Yak leadership now has a problem; faced with a captured army that no longer has the ability or will to fight, and a populace that very much wants their families back safely. There are several outcomes now: the government realises its error and negotiates for peace, which is far easier to achieve if destruction and casualties have already been kept to a minimum; or they remain belligerent and are overthrown by their people unwilling to risk the safety of their families trapped on foreign soil; or, if we believe we have built enough trust, we can release their army and send them home, where the most likely outcome is a military coup against the regime that tried to invade what is, as far as the soldiers are concerned, now a nation of friends. The point is that in any event, the war is over.” “Over?” asked Spike. “But... did we win?” “There is no such thing as ‘winning’ a war, Spike. The only victory lies in ending it with as little lost as possible,” said Celestia. “This is but one strategy, cultivated from many years of refinement, trial and error,” said Luna. “This is an easy scenario, but our underlying ethos remains the same. We adopt this philosophy to warfare not because it is easy, but because our trials here show it gives the fewest losses combined with the best chance for lasting peace. Destroying their army might cripple their ability to harm us for a time, but it would foster hatred and grievance against us. Repelling them at the border does not motivate them to cease being hostile, it simply encourages them to make another attempt and probe our defenses. And a prolonged war of attrition on open ground would cause casualties to spiral to devastating levels.” Spike mulled for a moment before speaking again. “Okay. But if you have all these amazing strategies for, like, everything,” he said. “Then why all this worry from a few dragons?” Celestia answered, a solemn, thin-lipped look to her. “Look around, Spike. There is one bookshelf that is mostly empty of books.” Spike looked around himself and sure enough, on that side of the room there was a bookshelf on which very few books were arranged. And those present were decidedly thin. “Uh... that wouldn’t be the dragon section would it?” Luna nodded gravely. “Were dragons ever to turn actively hostile, we would be in grave peril. An individual or small group such as this we could repel, though at great cost. But you were witness to the most recent Dragon Migration, were you not? How many do you think crossed our skies? Hundreds? Thousands? Imagine if even one tenth of what you witnessed massed against us.” Celestia spoke. “A dragon army – if such a thing exists – would be unlike any conventional military force. One against which our preferred tactics would be useless. We cannot fight scores of such massive beasts in open combat, and we cannot cut a supply line to an army that can subsist on anything – even the rocks at their feet. The innate ability to breathe fire is a weapon we cannot confiscate or neutralise; they appear impervious to extremes of heat and cold, and their hides are naturally thick enough to protect them from most damage that we could inflict with spear or spell.” She shook her head. Luna’s aura glowed again, and suddenly the entire map changed. Equestria lay in ruins with representations of dragons circling in the skies above. Charred and scorched earth dotted with forests reduced to charcoal, and every town and city either ablaze or a smouldering ruin. Even Canterlot. Even Ponyville. “Whoa...” breathed Spike. Luna raised her head and once more fixed his gaze, this time with a sober, even plaintive expression. “We cannot afford conflict with the dragons, Spike. And if we cannot prevent it...” she looked back to the table. “... our experiments here imply the outcome is catastrophic four times out of every five. While that is by no means certainty, those are not odds on which I would wish to gamble with the fate of everything I love at stake.” Spike stared in silence at the map of light while an entire country burned. A moment later the scene disappeared, the magic empowering the illusion released. “Even factoring in our recent experiences, Dragons are still very much an unknown, unpredictable quantity. Much of our best knowledge on dragon biology and physiology comes only from my sister’s experiments on you when you were still a hatchli—” “Sister!” snapped Celestia suddenly, which drew a look of shock from Luna and Spike both at the angry interruption. “What is wrong?” asked Luna. “That was an unkind word to use,” said Celestia with a frown. Luna returned a frown of her own. “It is a word you have used before,” she retorted. Celestia lowered her head and met Spike’s gaze with a sympathetic expression. “Forgive me, Spike. You were never ‘experimented on’, but your hatching forced many questions that it became necessary to answer in short order if you were to survive. What does a dragon eat? I did not know, and neither did anyone. In the event it appeared to be, ‘anything.’ But in those early days, everything I tried to do to nurture you was an ‘experiment’ to some degree.” She gave Luna another stern look. “But my sister did not mean to imply that you were some sort of test subject.” “No, I did not,” asserted Luna. “But I see no reason to sugar-coat the fact that the lessons learned in caring for your upbringing are still the basis for our most reliable facts about the dragon species. Alas, the rest – their society, their values, their relationships with other cultures – are but extrapolation and guesswork.” Celestia nodded in grave agreement with her sister. “This is why I requested your counsel, Spike. I need help from someone who has been among them. What might they want from us? How should they be approached? Can they be reasoned with? And most importantly, how—” At that moment there was a curt, two-tap knock to the door of the room, coming from the balcony outside, drawing both Princesses’ attention. Spike, who for a moment could not draw his gaze from the table nor dismiss the memory of a burning homeland, finally had his focus wrenched away by Celestia’s short entreaty of, “Come.” The door opened and into the room strode a pegasus mare in a recognisable blue flight-suit with flight-goggles propped upon her brow. A windswept silver mane and tail followed her gracefully as she carried herself inside with short, well-timed steps that implied a militaristic air. She halted before the Princesses and gave a quick bow. She didn’t salute but had she, it wouldn’t have appeared out of place in the slightest. “Ma’am? I was to bring the latest recon report to you directl—?” she began before catching sight of Spike and cutting herself off, her mouth snapping shut and a confused frown forming around her goggles. “Uh... ma’am? Do you know there’s one of them in here, right now?” “Your report?” intervened Celestia before an awkward silence could descend. Drawing the Wonderbolt’s complete attention. “Y-yes ma’am,” she said quickly and offered a sealed scroll to the Princess. It was taken from her with a golden aura and unfurled while the pegasus withdrew two paces and stood at attention. Celestia unfurled the scroll and began to read. A moment later her eyes stopped moving, seemingly transfixed on one errant detail within the text. She looked up at the blue-suited flier with a hard, interrogative stare. “You are certain of this? You are positive?” “These eyes don’t lie, ma’am,” replied the pegasus, head high and formal. Celestia returned her gaze to the parchment and absently nodded in reluctant acceptance. “Thank you. Leave us please,” she said. With that – and no further ceremony – the Wonderbolt nodded, then turned and strode from the room, closing the door behind her. Celestia closed her eyes, and let a long, slow breath out through her nose, re-rolling the scroll with her magic. “Sister?” asked Luna. “Um... Princess?” She opened her eyes and regarded her peers. “It seems that there is a sixth dragon up on the summit. One who matches Twilight Sparkle’s description of the new Dragon Lord.” “Wait... Princess Ember is here?” said Spike in surprise. He felt a slow burn of heat rising in his cheeks which he tried to force away. “But hold on... that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Celestia regarded her sister, and Luna returned a solemn, understanding nod before turning to Spike. Luna took a breath. “Knowing that the Dragon Lord herself has led her subjects here complicates matters politically,” she explained. “It has upped the ante by a considerable amount. We can no longer subscribe to the more convenient notion that these dragons are rogues acting without the backing of their state, and should things deteriorate the option to petition their hierarchy to recall or rein them in is quite obviously lost to us. Worse, if we take the letter of the law, the head of a foreign power leading a force across our borders without our permission officially constitutes an Act of War. We cannot let this lie, or be seen to shrink away from dealing with it... and we cannot challenge it without – likely – aggravating the dragons.” She shook her head. “What a mess...” A long silence descended. Spike shuffled awkwardly while Princess Luna regarded the blank table with an air of contemplation. Celestia turned and gazed through the window at the mountain summit, hundreds of feet above. “And we still don’t know why they’ve come. What they want with us,” she said, and sighed; the first real indication of emotion she had yet shown. “We have always been beneath their gaze,” said Luna. “Lord Torch and many before him ever regarded ponies with... aggressive disinterest. This ‘Lord Ember’ is a new, young ruler who will undoubtedly seek to prove herself. Perhaps this is posturing? A show of force as a way for her to consolidate the power she has seized.” “If it is just a show...” said Celestia. There was another, introspective pause before finally she spoke again, her attention drawn back to the snow-capped peak. “Dragon Lord Ember,” she said, mulling the unfamiliar words. “I know almost nothing about her, and yet suddenly this entire crisis turns upon her. Her motivations for coming here; her predilections towards us.” Finally she turned back to the room, to Spike. “You met her in person, did you not, Spike? You shared some manner of adventure or trial together?” “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” said Spike. After another lengthy pause Celestia finally turned and regarded him, still with no hint of emotion. “In the time you spent together do you recall her offering any opinions on Equestria? Was there anything you noticed in her that might indicate fondness or distaste for ponies?” “Um... well sure, yeah.  Like there was this one part where... because Twilight and Rarity were there too, sort of hiding... and she knew, and she could have sold them out to this other dragon that was sniffing around who does hate ponies, but she didn’t: she protected them instead.” Celestia nodded sagely. “Indeed? And... why would she do such a thing? Was there any advantage for her in doing so?” “Not really, no. She didn’t have to, she was just doing the right thing.” Celestia gave a thoughtful hum and a considered, concentrated frown. “Spike, this trial you undertook, what was it designed to test?” “The Gauntlet? It was to see who became the next Dragon Lord.” “Yes, I know that much from Twilight’s essay. But specifically, what qualities was it designed to put to the test?” “Well... there was a lot of talk about it only being for ‘big and strong’ dragons and all that. So, strength I guess?” said Spike. Celestia nodded. “So... the Gauntlet puts a dragon’s strength to the test, and the Gauntlet is the method by which a dragon may prove themselves worthy of the title of Lord. So... it is true that dragons respect strength above all else? That if a dragon can prove their physical might is superior to that of their rivals... they have power over them?” suggested Celestia. “Um... I guess so. They do always like showing off how strong and tough they are to each other. And how crude. All that one-upmanship... it’s not really my thing.” “An Alpha-Omega societal hierarchy,” said Luna. “The strongest are respected while the weak are dominated.” She grimaced. “I find it distasteful.” Celestia nodded, slowly now, contemplating behind her china facade. “Yet, as I understand it, you and she were the first to reach the goal in this trial. Were you both really that much stronger than all of the other competitors?” “Huh? Oh, no. We got there first because we teamed up!” said Spike with a grin as memories came back. “With two of us looking out for each other, we got through the challenges twice as fast. We were working together!” He paused. Other, more bitter memories stirred. “Well... that is... until we weren’t.” “Go on.” “Well, we started working together and then... all of a sudden... she said we weren’t together any more. That we were finished. And then she... left me behind.” He still felt a sad pang at the memory. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, Celestia’s brow darkened and her jaw clenched. Only for a moment. A fleeting instant when her iron grip on her composure faltered. “She took advantage of your trust, used you to achieve what she could not alone, and then betrayed and abandoned you?” she said, her voice still very level. Beside her, Luna gave a rueful shake of her head. “I fear these are not the actions of a leader with whom we are likely to be able to form any kind of working relationship.” Spike’s head snapped up, surprised. “What? No, it wasn’t like that! I mean... okay it was like that, but she came back! She apologised and everything. Then there was a fight with that other dragon I mentioned and she had to hold him off. Otherwise he would have become Dragon Lord and that would have been really bad for Equestria. But I’d never have been able to fight him on my own, so she sacrificed her chance at getting the Sceptre so that one of us could. So... I did.” “You did. And so, for an instant, you became the Lord of the Dragons, before in an honourable and selfless act, you gave away the title to her.” Celestia stood unmoved, turning again to the window, her porcelain face void of emotion and nuance. “I hope that was not a mistake, Spike,” she said softly. Spike looked to her, Celestia’s sudden scrutiny of his actions putting him on the defensive. “I... I only did the Gauntlet because I wanted to keep Equestria... and my friends... safe. Some of the dragons... they really didn’t have nice things to say about ponies. But Ember’s different. She’s smart and she’s good and I know she doesn’t want to do any harm. That’s why I gave it to her. I couldn’t stay there and be Dragon Lord. That’s not my home. This is,” he finished, feeling a swell of pride. For a moment Celestia said nothing. Then she turned her head to the side, looking across the room at her sister, who closed her eyes and shook her own head sadly. With a final look to the mountain-top, Celestia took a long breath and spoke again. “I have absolutely no doubt that your intentions were pure, Spike. But a long time on the throne has taught me to be observant to the machinations behind the innocent faces of those seeking power. A more cynical reading of these events paints Princess Ember in a different light, and casts you as an innocent pawn, I fear.” She turned away from the window, and the sunlight streaming from outside caused her shadow to fall over him. “Consider: Ember, a Princess and daughter of a Dragon Lord with the expectations on her that naturally follow, has designs on the throne soon to be vacated by her father. She is more intelligent than most of her peers but the Gauntlet is a test of strength, and she knows she is not ‘strong’ enough to achieve victory without help – which of course no other competitor will offer. Then by a stroke of luck she meets you, Spike: a dragon with no true desire to be Dragon Lord forced to take part by a mere quirk of fate. She sees you in the company of ponies and learns your true motivation. By intervening to protect your friends she earns your trust, and the assistance she needs to gain a lead over her rivals. However, she makes a mistake and casts you aside too soon. When you arrive at the end before her she tries to recover your faith by appearing to sacrifice her own ambitions. But knowing what she does, she calculates that you are unlikely to want to retain the power you have seized for yourself, and with your confidence in her salvaged... what other dragon are you likely to pass on that responsibility to?” “But it wasn’t—!” began Spike, and then cut himself off. Starting again, he lowered and softened his voice. “It’s not like that, your highness. It just isn’t. We’re friends. She has a good heart, I know she does. I don’t know why she’s brought a bunch of dragons here, but I know it’s not because she wants to hurt us. At all.” Celestia’s stoic expressionless visage did not change. “Did you hear her say so? With your own ears? Did she ever actually tell you she would not make any attempt to harm or attack Equestria... or was it something you said that she simply did not refute? I need you to be clear, Spike. Twilight’s account is unclear on this precise point, and it may prove crucial.” “Um... uh...” said Spike, genuinely racking his brains. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t remember. It all just happened, you know? But... she’s good, Princess. Honest.” Celestia continued to regard him, betraying not an ounce of emotion through her perfect composure. Finally she raised her head and turned back to the window. “She may be. And I know you believe she is, but her actions – past and present – give me pause. I cannot take it as read that she does not come bearing us ill will, and I cannot take at face value any promise she may offer. Trust will be difficult.” Spike lowered his gaze to the ground, disappointed and even a little frustrated. He had to admit that he himself didn’t really know why Ember would appear out of the blue like this... but he knew that it wouldn’t be for any bad reason. Still, he could understand why the Princesses couldn’t just take his word based on no more information than they had themselves. The future of the whole realm might be at stake. But if only they could talk to Ember – find out what she and her dragons were after – this whole situation could die down. Of course, there was a solution wasn’t there? He raised his head and met Celestia’s gaze. “Why don’t I go find out?” he asked. Celestia blinked, betraying the merest hint of surprise, but remained silent. “I mean it,” added Spike. “Why don’t I go up there and talk to Ember? I’ll find out what she wants and why she’s here, and report back – like an ambassador! Then you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about!” he finished with a winning grin. Luna regarded him quietly for a moment, then raised her head and looked toward her sister. Celestia continued to hold his gaze. At length she let out a slow, calm breath and spoke with a firm note – though one not devoid of sympathy. “No, Spike.” Spike deflated. But why? It was such a simple solution! So logical! Why would the Princess say no? “But... I can help!” he tried, hoping that he wouldn’t sound like he was answering back. “You have helped, Spike,” Celestia assured. “When the time comes for me to confront the dragons, I can do so from a position of knowledge, where before I would have been hobbled by ignorance. I have you to thank, and I do so sincerely. But you should return to Ponyville. No doubt you are needed for—” Before she could say more, there was a curt knock at the door. “Enter,” called Celestia, and without hesitation the door was opened and in marched Guard Captain Speartip, metal armour gleaming, clanking softly in time with practised, formal steps. He strode to the table and positioned himself at it, opposite Celestia and Luna. “Captain? You have information for us?” began Celestia as he approached his position at the table. When his eye caught uncertainly on Spike, Celestia noticed immediately. “You may treat Spike here as a friend, Captain. I will vouch for his trustworthiness.” “Yes, highnesses,” he said with a quick bow, removing his helmet and placing it on the table before him. “We’ve had word from afield. It’s all come in at the same time, so I’ll be as brief as I can.” He spoke clearly and with confidence, and made direct eye-contact with each royal sister in turn, but it was clear he was carrying news that he would just as soon not have to relay. “Firstly, Maretonia has closed its borders,” he said, resolutely not allowing his gaze to slip from the princesses. “They are denying outward travel to their citizens, and they are reinforcing their crossings with troops and scouts. Word is that they are preparing to receive... refugees,” he finished, his voice stumbling a hair on the final word. “They are distancing themselves from us,” said Luna. “Such confidence they have in our diplomacy.” “It is the wisest course,” admitted Celestia, her head dipping. “Showing any allegiance to us would make them a target should hostilities between ourselves and the dragons prove unavoidable.” “Yes ma’am, it... would.” When she looked back to the Captain his expression contained obvious nervousness. As though Celestia had drawn a conclusion he was aware of, but that he would perhaps rather she had not reached until after he had said his remaining pieces. “Captain?” He had to clear his throat. “We received this from Saddle Arabia, your highnesses,” he said, withdrawing a small, very thin folded parchment from his armour and presenting it to Luna. Using magic, she unfurled it. KING AND QUEEN AWARE DRAGON INCURSION STOP. S-A FORCES MOBILISING STOP. ORDERS TO MARCH FOR CANTERLOT STOP. ARRIVAL IN TWO DAYS STOP. FOR EQUESTRIA. “They are sending us their army?” gasped Luna. “And... we’ve had word from Captain Armor in the North that the Crystal Empire is doing likewise,” said the Captain. “Every passenger train is being cancelled and requisitioned to move the vast bulk of their Guards here. They will begin arriving as soon as overnight tonight.” “Oh, Cadance,” said Celestia, unsure whether she should shed a tear in gratitude, or fear for the Empire’s safety. “So we have two armies bound for Canterlot, to join ours already here?” surmised Luna. She turned to her sister. “The gestures are appreciated, but this does little for us except treble the potential casualties if things go sour,” she pointed out. “They are acting not out of common sense, but perceived obligation. And love,” said Celestia with a pale expression. “And we cannot now refuse their help. To do so would be to risk slighting them.” “Cadance would understand. The dragons are not going to miss two entire armies converging on Canterlot beneath them, nor misinterpret the cause. Our allies mean well, but this will only serve to increase the instability in what is already a precarious position,” said Luna. “We will have to use the circumstances to our advantage where we can,” said Celestia. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath in through her nose.  When she opened them again, there was new determination in them. “Equestria must respond, and it seems a timescale has been dictated for us. And with two entire armies about to arrive there is little value in hiding our own preparations any longer.” She turned to her sister. “Bring the Guard out of the shadows, Luna. Let them play to their strengths and garrison this city with every spear and bow we have. Ensure our ponies know that our guards are there to keep them safe – the city is not under martial law.” She turned to the Captain. “Captain Speartip? Make the rail-station ready to receive incoming troops. Barrack and quarter them as they arrive and direct their commanders to Princess Luna for further instructions.” She took a breath. “The dragons respect strength: when I go to confront the Dragon Lord it will be as the figurehead of a mighty nation, and the mouthpiece of a powerful alliance. We will show them we are not without teeth and with luck, that will be enough to earn their respect and bring them to the table; to negotiate with us as equals. Dismissed.” “Yes, Highnesses!” The Captain snapped a salute, metallic armour clanking loudly once more, turned on his hooves and marched at a quick clip toward the door, his tasks duly assigned. Spike’s awkward gaze dropped to the floor. This whole situation with the dragons really didn’t have the air of a friendly visit. When he glanced up he saw Princess Luna still regarding her sister. Her expression had changed to a level scowl. When Celestia noticed, she returned the glare. It seemed they were exchanging words without speaking. “That will be all for now, Spike,” said Celestia, her voice clipped and cold. “Um... is... is something wrong?” There was a frosty pause and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. It was a long moment before Luna answered. “My sister and I are about to argue,” explained Luna, resolutely not taking her eyes from her counterpart. “Oh,” said Spike, confused. There was no reply nor acknowledgement. The time for him to make himself scarce was certainly upon him. He walked carefully over to the door, through it and closed it behind him. This was no place for him, but... what was going on? * * * When Spike stepped out onto the terrace, he was surprised to find the flight-suited Wonderbolt who had brought the scroll earlier was still waiting. She turned from the balcony overlooking the city, regarded him with a frown, and subtly stepped just a little further away as though nonchalantly sidestepping a cobra. Okay. Awkward. “Um... hi,” said Spike, embarrassed under her scrutiny, and using his best ‘pleased to meet you’ voice. “I don’t think we got introduced. I’m Spike, I’m sorta... an advisor to the Princesses? It’s... uh... Flatfoot, right?” he guessed. So long around Rainbow Dash and he still didn’t know all the different Wonderbolt’s names for sure. They all looked so similar in those blue suits! From her reaction it looked like he must have gotten her mixed up with someone else because in reply she gave him the most piercing death-glare. “Look... dragon... I don’t know if that’s what passes for espionage in Draconia – or wherever you’re from – but the only information you’re getting out of me is my rank and serial number,” she scoffed. Though, oddly, after another awkward moment her haughty demeanour and angered frown seemed to relax. “Wait a second... I know you, don’t I...?” she said slowly, and with narrowing eyes. “Yes! You see? I’m a friend to—” The eyes narrowed further. “You’re the one who ruined our medal ceremony at the Equestria Games. Making up words to the Cloudsdale Anthem.” Her frown deepened still further. “That was supposed to be one of the proudest moments of my life, and then you appeared and turned it into... something else entirely.” Then oddly the frown relaxed, though her stare was still standoffish. “Still... it could’ve been worse. And you took down that big ice-cloud during the finals, didn’t you? That... well that could’ve been much worse.” “Um... heh... does... does that mean you forgive me?” said Spike, shrinking a little, a hopelessly optimistic, nervous grin spread from ear to ear. The Wonderbolt drew herself up, looking down upon him, still frowning. “All it means is that you didn’t arrive here with them. So you’re probably not a spy...” she reasoned. Then glanced to the door to the tower and back to him. “And... I guess the Princesses must trust you. It’s Fleetfoot.” “Uh... nice to meet you. Again.” Her eyes narrowed once more. “So... what are you doing here?” he asked. Wow, the ice was ridiculously thick. She rolled her eyes and grumbled. “You saw. I came to give my report. Princess Celestia has the Wonderbolts doing covert reconnaissance on the summit. She needs to know if the dragons start looking like they’re gonna attack. The Royal Guard are too conspicuous for this sort of work, so she comes to us. The Wonderbolts haven’t technically been military for hundreds of years, but we’re not exactly civvies either. When the Princesses call, we answer.” Fleetfoot looked back to the tower door. “Princess Celestia didn’t actually say I was dismissed. I was waiting to see if she had further orders, but with the way that Captain just left, I’m getting the distinct impression she’s done with me too. No sense in sticking around if I’m just wasting my time here. She knows where to find us,” she added, extending her wings. Spike just couldn’t bring himself to fathom it. ‘Covert reconnaissance?’ It really was like everypony thought that dragons might actually be the enemy. And... well, maybe if things had gone differently during the gauntlet, they might have been. But it hadn’t and they weren’t. Ember was a friend. They had a real chance at friendship here if only they could... Oh... There really wasn’t anyone else who could do this. It was strange. Up until earlier today he had been Spike, general good-egg and helpful sorter-of-things. Suddenly, here he was: Equestria’s best – and possibly only – chance for friendship with the Dragons. No pressure. I’m so getting banished for this, lamented Spike. “Wait!” He put on his cheesiest grin and turned to the Wonderbolt. “Further orders! Uh... the Princesses. Y’know, they gave me a special mission. And they said that you’ve gotta help me with it...” * * * Within the tower, the two ruling sisters met each other with icy stares. “Sister, I would rather we not fight in the War Room,” said Celestia. “And yet I find I can no longer hold my tongue!” snapped Luna. “You have spent all morning fretting over that table and your mind is clearly addled! Unless you mis-spoke when you said you intended to ‘confront’ the dragons, and began talking like a warmonger? What madness has possessed you?!” “The political circumstances are forcing us onto a narrow path, Luna. Our range of options for responding to this incursion is... limited,” said Celestia with a firm, level stare. “There are options beyond baring our teeth and snarling like a cornered wolf! Why would we risk brandishing the spear when the olive-branch may yet bear fruit?! I cannot believe I am the one making this point to you of all ponies!” “Because the olives may be poison to us, Luna,” argued Celestia. “You said it yourself: ‘the weak are dominated.’ If we offer conciliation or approach showing any signs of acquiescence we may only invite an attack. If they believe us weak there will be pressure on the Dragon Lord to treat us as such. They might look upon Equestria as another thing to be acquired. I must come to them from a position of strength. As an Alpha, not an Omega. It will give Lord Ember latitude to view Equestria with respect; enough to allow me to open dialogue with her on an equal footing.” “‘Me’? ‘I?’ You intend to go alone!?” Her scowl deepened. “The task of formulating our Response falls to you, Celestia, but I assumed that in delivering it we would face this threat together!” “As did I,” said Celestia, almost defensively. “But now that our knowledge of the situation has improved, that is no longer possible.” “Why? You wish to flaunt our strength, correct? Are we not ‘stronger’ together?” spat Luna. “Yes, of course. But from what Spike has said here today, it seems clear that dragons regard co-operation and teamwork as only for those enfeebled enough to need it. If we are to repudiate their conceit that we are weak we cannot serve them with the notion that each of us is a crutch to support the other. That means one of us, facing the Dragons alone and without aid.” “But that is not how Equestria works!” urged Luna. Celestia fixed her sister with a firm but sympathetic stare. “It was... for a thousand years... and it is how we must present ourselves now. You are going to have to trust me, Luna. I have had a great deal of experience and this is not my first international incident. We will be strong, and I will be firm. But I have no intention of kicking a hornet’s nest.” The two Princesses stared each other down for an uncomfortable moment. Luna turned her head, flipped her mane and raised her muzzle to the ceiling. “I will not allow you to go into the manticore’s den blind and unaccompanied, big sister. But if you refuse to take the aid of another princess, or even another pony, then you will at least reconsider taking Spike up on his offer.” Celestia blinked, her reply delayed by an instant of surprise. “Out of the question.” “You dismiss the notion out of hoof. Why? Why not send him to speak to the Dragon Lord, as he suggests? That he may lay some groundwork, or at least gauge their mood?” said Luna. “Because I judge it dangerous,” Celestia retorted. “It was a noble offer, but I will not navigate this crisis by putting ponies at unnecessary risk—” “But he is not a pony,” Luna cut in. “And I submit that he would not be at risk. He is a dragon. He would be going to his own kind.” “With whom he has rarely got on well. Would you truly have me send him to those who might treat him ill?” Celestia pointed out, her voice taking on an angry edge, true emotion sparingly revealed. “I would have you listen to him. If he wishes to go, you have no right to prevent him,” argued Luna. “They are his people.” “We are his people!” snarled Celestia. “That is not your choice to make,” countered Luna. “And suppose what he says is true – and let us for once credit him with enough emotional intelligence to have assessed the situation correctly – and he does have a true rapport with the new Dragon Lord: you would be abandoning our best chance at resolving this crisis.” “I will not use him as a political pawn,” Celestia’s head had dipped low now, her scowl deep and for a moment she bared her clenched teeth. Beyond all that though, her eyes glistened wetly. “He is a child Luna...” she said, her voice picking up a tiny tremor. “And he will never be more than that if we keep treating him like one,” said Luna. “He is wise beyond his years, a trustworthy confidante and a loyal friend. It is clear he wishes to help us. Let him.” Celestia let out a long, ragged sigh. “If anything were to happen to him... Twilight would never forgive me,” she said quietly. “And if you denied him the chance to try and harm were to befall you, I, or anypony he loves, he would not forgive himself,” said Luna. “He has a role to play. Let him play it.” Celestia looked to the ground, another long breath released. “I... I can’t Luna. Don’t you see? Because of what he has seen here, he knows exactly how dire our situation is. Were I to send him to the Dragon Lord, he would think the weight of all of Equestria lay on his shoulders and he would not be far wrong. He should not have to bear that burden. My conscience will not allow me to ask it of him.” Luna regarded her sister for a moment longer, then finally gave a slow nod. “A shame, but I understand your reticence. There is indeed a fine line between exploiting the resources we have, and the ethics of allowing one so young to hold the fate of his entire world in his claws.” She looked up with a quick, assertive sniff. “But the crisis continues. So must we.” Celestia nodded. “I will approach the dragons with our response before the day is out. In the meantime, we must continue to prepare Canterlot. And... when the time comes... if the worst should happen to me—” “It will not,” assured Luna. “I do trust you. Even when you are being bull-headed.” Celestia nodded. There was even a tiny smile and a watery eye. “As for continuing to prepare Canterlot, sister... come with me. The greatest resource we have is our ponies, and some of our brightest minds have responded to my appeal. One of them might yet offer us a better solution than fretting over yet another iteration. Besides, it is high time you left this infernal room.”