//------------------------------// // Summit // Story: Diplomacy // by 8686 //------------------------------// The fight was over, the terrible roaring subsided and the dust slowly cleared, but Ember didn’t return. That left Spike at a loose end. He didn’t fancy the risky-looking climb up the steep slope from the plateau to try and find Ember – and got the distinct impression he’d very much be getting in the way of whatever she was doing if he did. He sure didn’t want to make things worse. Ember wasn’t here out of hostility, but the whole situation definitely had a certain... precariousness to it. He didn’t want to risk rocking the boat. So for now he was sort of stuck where he was. The only proximate dragon was Scald, lying on his belly and curled with his back against the mountain slope adjacent to the cave entrance. For a moment he seemed disinterested in the entire world, until he caught Spike looking. He began to watch him, the faintest of curiosities behind slitted black irises. Play nice, Ember had said. Okay. Deep breath. “Um... hi!” he started. Good work so far, Spike. Hit ‘em with the old roguish charm. The ‘faintest of curiosities behind slitted black irises’ suddenly seemed to fade to utter disinterest. “I’m Spike.” That’s the ticket, Spike. Way to be. The dragon drew a long, heavy, nasal breath. Then, “Greetings,” it said in bored strains. The kind of slow, noncommittal reply that acknowledged he had been addressed, but invited absolutely no follow-up conversation whatsoever. “It’s, uh... Scald, right? Ember mentioned you, is all... uh...” Keep playing it cool, Spike. You got this. “Yet she never mentioned you. A kobold who appears to have come from nowhere to bend her ear,” he huffed. “I should be curious. Alas.” “Uh... a what? Kobold? What’s a... kobold?” That seemed to draw Scald’s attention. Spike gulped involuntarily. “You are,” Scald explained, as though pointing out the nose on his face. That touched a slight nerve actually, and Spike found his brow darkening, a little confident fire in his belly. “Hey! I’m not a kobold. I’m a dragon!” he boasted. Scald’s confusion only looked to increase. Finally he seemed to settle on further explanation. “A cub is not quite a bear. A pup is not truly a wolf. A kobold... is not yet a dragon.” He gave Spike a thin, toothy smile. “One day, little one. Patience and greed.” Oh. Okay then. Moving on. “So, what were they fighting about anyway?” he asked with a glance upwards. Yet more confusion. “I do not understand your question.” “Well... those two dragons up there... they were fighting,” Spike pointed out. “Yes?” “So? What about? I mean they can’t have been fighting for nothing. There’s gotta be a reason?” The large dragon gave Spike an odd look. As though Spike were speaking in an entirely foreign tongue. “Why must there?” After another silence, Spike returned the expression. “Seriously? You mean... there’s no reason? At all? They fight just because they’re dragons and dragons fight?” The look Scald gave him then. Thorough confusion and mild contempt. Like he was conversing with someone who had somehow never learned that water was wet. Spike blinked, and felt a little abashed under that gaze. “Never mind. The fight’s over, so what’s taking Ember so long?” Scald let out a mighty, short huff of a sigh. “Our new Dragon Lord... ‘disapproves’ of fighting. Since she has halted it, Pyre and Ash will want a winner judged. Lord Ember has a habit of... encouraging compromise,” he grumbled. “It is time consuming and inevitably neither gets what they want. Easier to let them finish.” Right. So could still be a while before she got back then. Still... it occured to him that this was an opportunity to gauge how Ember’s stewardship was being received by dragons at large. “So uh...” he hesitated a little before finding his resolve again. “What... what’s she like? As a ruler, I mean?” He paused. “Great?” Scald regarded him a moment, then lowered his head, resting it on his large forelimbs. “Divisive.” The large dragon drew a long, lazy breath. “She has rubbed several scales the wrong way. Her views are... progressive.” Not exactly the ringing endorsement he’d been hoping for. “But... isn’t that a good thing? Progress?” Scald regarded him again. “What need have dragons of ‘progress’? We are already supreme.” “So... you... don’t like her?” The question seemed to draw Scald’s ire. “Do not put words in my mouth unless you wish to join them, kobold,” he hissed. Though after a moment his glare cooled. “My judgment waits. I would be a fool to discount entirely the notion that there might come a day when some, random, ‘new’ idea breeds us new strength. And even the greatest Dragon Lords were not created as such. There is no harm in letting her experiment with her ‘ideals’ and her ‘compromises’, and once they come to nought she will learn from their failure. And at least by leading this raid she has shown she is not wholly divorced from traditional values. She will improve.” “Wait... R-raid?” “Returning triumphant with Equestria’s Greatest Treasure to add to her hoard will quell many of her doubters. If we are lucky, she may even apportion shares.” Uh oh. “So... that’s why you’re all here? To see Ember raid the ponies’ city and take home some Equestrian gold?” asked Spike. Boy were they in for a disappointment. “None but Ember knows the nature of the Treasure,” said Scald, cracking a wide, very thin, very toothy grin. “But even so, I know it is far more valuable than mere gold.” But... it isn’t real? “Okay, hold on. If you don’t know what it is, how do you even know a treasure exists, let alone how valuable it is?” pointed out Spike. Scald’s brow wrinkled into anger and his gaze burned at Spike, clearly becoming annoyed at the incessant questions flowing from this child. “I cannot see the wind nor do I know how it is created, but I know it exists for I see its effects on the world. I have seen what this treasure can do.” Then, after a moment his features relaxed again. “Have you ever heard of Griffonstone, the capital of the Griffon Kingdom? It is a ruin. Or it was,” he said, his lip curling into a little sneer. “Griffons and dragons are natural enemies. Their greed is respectable, though of course ours is superior. We have always battled over gold, jewels and other valuables. And yet, in recent times we encounter them less frequently when we hunt for treasure; when we do, they do not fight for gold with anything like the zeal they once did; and their long-forsaken city is suddenly transformed to glory where it was an abject assortment of collapsed shacks.” He fixed Spike with a new stare. “Such momentous change in so short a time has a cause. I chanced upon a pair of them on my travels and bested them in a pitifully short fight.” The sneer grew a little, “As my prize, I demanded they enlighten me, and I learned much. “It seems that recently two ponies visited Griffonstone, and brought with them a valuable gift that they bestowed upon the Griffon tribe. They would not tell me what, for they were cagey and coy as Griffons are, but no matter: the conclusion is inescapable. Something of such worth that Griffons now seldom see the need to pursue other treasure; so priceless that it was able to kick-start the regeneration of their entire city overnight. I will not bore you with economic conclusions that invites, but suffice it to say, that... is a vast level of wealth. That is how I know such treasure exists.” Oh boy, have you ever got the wrong idea, thought Spike, a little cold sweat trickling down his neck. Scald took a breath. “My revelation came as no surprise to Lord Ember, for it seems she has had her own experience, interrogating actual ponies. She calls their gift Equestria’s Greatest Treasure, and she decreed that if the ponies would share it with the Griffons, then she would ensure they would share it with the Dragons also. And so we are ordered here, to see her lay claim to it for her glory.” He gave a sharp-toothed smile. “Lord Ember has kept its nature close to her chest... but I have my theories. The secret of alchemy, perhaps. Creating gold! Or perhaps there is truth to the tales of ponies wielding a magic that can find gemstones hidden inside the very rock! Imagine...” he said, his thin tongue licking his lips. “Oh, to find one of those and take them as a prize! Though such specimens – if they exist – are rumoured to be something of a rarity.” Spike gulped. Froze. His blood chilled. Another trickle of sweat ran down the back of his neck and his mouth locked into an involuntary, horrified rictus. “Or y-you, could maybe just ask her? Them, I mean them! I mean after all, the ponies are pretty generous— I mean not generous, benevolent! Charitable. Hospitable. You... wouldn’t need to take anypony.” “As if anycreature would help a dragon without coercion,” he snorted. “But perhaps it is fantasy after all. Have you any notion? Loathe as I am to spoil the surprise, Lord Ember mentioned you were... some manner of scout?” “Uh n-no. Not exactly sure,” stammered Spike. And then hit upon an idea. “But you know what? I did hear all the ponies talking about how excited they are to meet the dragons, and how ready they are to share their treasure with us. Sounds good, right?” Big grin. A dreadful pause. “That bodes well for them.” “Uh... bodes?” Big nervous grin. Scald turned him a slight frown. “Lord Ember will return to the Dragon Lands with Equestria’s treasure. This is a certainty,” he rumbled, as though he were relaying simple fact. “The cooperation of the ponies is... optional?” Gulp. Suddenly, movement in the sky caught Spike’s eye and his eyes snapped toward it. Scald must have seen it to, and he lifted his head from his forelegs. “Oh,” he purred, causing Spike to look up to find he was looking out over the plateau, to the sky beyond where the low sun was just meeting the horizon, glinting off dozens of small, golden shapes flying in regimented formation. Toward them. “Finally.” * * * Celestia’s chariot, drawn by four of her most decorated pegasus Guards, circled with a deliberate grace as it approached the high mountain plateau beneath the summit. She was flanked by no fewer than four score of Royal Guardsponies, every one of them in full golden battle armour polished to a rich reflective gleam, near blinding to look at where their curves caught the sunlight. Braces of Pegasi drew twenty ostentatious chariots containing their unicorn and earth-pony brethren in perfect, synchronised formation. Brass trumpets blared the Royal Anthem and banners streamed and were raised high; the Equestrian flag prominently and proudly displayed as the Princess’ chariot finally made landfall and rolled to a stop. With inch-perfect precision each and every other chariot in her entourage followed her lead onto the plateau, with ponies disembarking and standing at rigid attention in perfect, military formation. This was not simply an arrival, it was a statement. This was pomp and circumstance, shock and awe on a miniature scale but promising so much more. We are Equestria, it said. And there is plenty more where this came from. But even as Celestia stepped from her chariot and raised her head high and confident she had to concede the force was tiny compared to the dragons. She strode forward, advancing from her escort toward the centre of the plateau, squinting against the wind, eyes alert for danger yet seeing only boredom and inaction from her reptilian opposites. She planted her hooves and raised her head high, and a little magical amplification ensured that when she spoke she was addressing as many ears as she could reach while her earlier words rang in her head. The weak are dominated. “I am Celestia, Princess of Equestria!” her voice boomed, echoing up the mountain peak to the surprise of most of the dragons who were not expecting such volume from something so tiny. “I will speak to the one who speaks for you!” The echo of her voice reverberated about the mountaintop for a long moment before finally fading to nothing, and in the silence that followed it was as though she had never spoken. Then, at length one dragon – the closest; a huge scarlet-scaled creature resting on the plateau itself – stirred, his attention falling fully upon her for a lengthy, malevolent moment. He spoke. “Keep making demands, pony...” the beast rumbled, a deep, bassy growl that cut right through the wind and which one felt as much as heard. “Make as many as you want.” Then resettled himself, broad wings ruffling slightly and his attention entirely elsewhere in an instant. “Where is Lord Ember?” demanded Celestia. His narrow, cruel gaze turned back to regard her. “If Lord Ember deigns to grant you an audience, I caution you to show more respect than you are. As much as you are capable of,” he warned with a hiss. “You will find that since we are in the heartland of my country, that I am the one granting her an audience,” said Celestia undaunted, with a low scowl. The huge dragon’s attention returned to her for a moment, and he turned her a scathing, condescending eye. “‘Your country,’” it scoffed, dripping with disdain. “You creatures... all the same. Marking your territory and guarding it jealously. Just because you have advanced from making musk on a tree to drawing lines on a map, you suddenly expect the world to take notice.” His sharp grin grew thin and wicked. “A deer can scent every tree and believe it owns the entire forest... do you really believe the bear pays any heed?” “Equestria has been constituted as a nation for well over a millenia. You will respect our rights and our wishes while you are guests within it,” countered Celestia, head high and confident. The dragon gave a derisive, dismissive snort. “You plant a flag in the wilderness and huddle around it like frightened children, pretending it grants you privileges you never earned; confers freedoms you cannot protect. Alas, a flag is not so magical. Every single ‘right’ you and your clockwork soldiers here claim to be entitled to I could take away, in just... one... breath,” he hissed, the final word punctuated with a lick of violet flame rising from the back of his throat. Celestia’s scowl deepened, and she lowered her horn a tad. Suddenly Spike spoke up, stepping a couple of paces forward to place himself between Celestia and the huge beast. A purely symbolic gesture, but it had the desired effect. “Whoa there! Let’s not get carried away. I’m certain Princess Ember doesn’t want anypony incinerated, just like I know that Princess Celestia doesn’t want anydragon disintegrated. Let’s all just... calm down?” he finished with a nervous grin. Celestia’s attention immediately snapped to him. Unwise perhaps to allow her gaze to leave the threat that was the larger beast but it was automatic, instinctive. “Spike?!” she said, her surprise obvious. “Hmm. I see you are acquainted with our scout,” murred Scald. Celestia spared a rude glare for the beast towering over her. “I see you are acquainted with my ambassador,” she fired back brusquely. She dropped her compassionate gaze once more to Spike. “Spike, are you alright?” “Your ambassador? Hah! A pony believes it holds sway over the actions of a dragon,” scoffed Scald. “Of course he is alright. Dragons are not frail, puny creatures.” Celestia spared him a furious, ice-cold glare. “I will hear that from him,” she intoned, and looked again to Spike, her face softening. “It’s okay, Princess,” said Spike. “It’s okay. I need to let Ember explain, but everything’s going to work out! The dragons aren’t here to fight or destroy or anything.” “That remains to be seen,” mused Scald. “Though I am certain that once Lord Ember’s demands are made clear, the ponies will hand over their treasure in very short order.” He grinned another thin smile, sharp as a knife-blade. “Our... ‘treasure’?” said Celestia. “Your attempts at ignorance will not avail you. Our Lord knows the ponies possess a key to vast wealth. If you are wise you will give it to her with great haste, but I will leave her to make the official demand.” “I... see. And if ‘The Ponies’ refuse?” The big dragon regarded her with a sneer. “You will learn that a flag makes for a poor shield, pony.” “Scald!” interrupted a new, angry voice from above. At that moment, from the mountaintop above them several loud, reptilian murmurs were heard as Princess Ember descended to alight before Princess Celestia. She crossed to the centre of the space and stopped just a few steps from her counterpart even as Scald stepped aside – to the extent that his giant body could and still leave room for Celestia and her entourage. Before Ember could do any more though, Scald dipped his head to her in a solemn bow, then raised it and spoke again, bellowing to Celestia and the assembled Guard. “Ponies! You all stand in the presence of Ember, Lord of the Dragons! Bow before her, and show respect!” Which seemed to catch Ember by surprise and she turned to glance up at him, giving him a quick but withering sideways glare. Princess Celestia pointedly stood straight and proud looking down her muzzle at the Dragon Lord, and in a twist of fate she hadn’t quite been expecting, found herself towering over a diminutive dragon only two-thirds her size. Sensing the tension, Spike hesitantly bent his knee and offered a respectful dip of the head to Ember, hoping that the fact he was a dragon himself wouldn’t cause Celestia to think he was picking sides. Scald was clearly irked by Celestia’s refusal to obey his command to show deference, but his wordless rebuke from Ember was unequivocal, and Ember seemed more inclined to admonish him than to press the issue he had raised. He bowed his head and thereafter stood still and mute. A long and unpleasant silence fell. Ember looked toward her counterpart, and her eyes immediately slid beyond her to the scores of armed guards at her back. At last she met Celestia’s gaze. “I was hoping the rulers of Equestria might greet me,” she admitted. “But instead you’ve come alone, with half an army behind you and Spike says you’re fortifying your city against us?” She folded her arms and turned half to the side. “This how you welcome everyone?” Celestia frowned and took a half-step forward, drawing herself up and extending her wings wide. The Dragon Lord referencing Luna so abruptly so immediately made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Was she trying to draw her? Trap her into showing some manner of dependency or weakness? Stay the course, the voice of caution said. Show only strength. “I alone speak for Equestria today, Dragon Lord Ember,” she intoned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “And no, it is not: it is not Equestria’s policy to extend a welcome those who might mean us ill. I will have an explanation for your uninvited presence here, and for your unprovoked acts of aggression. And I will have it now.” Presently, there was a low, rumbling cackle growing steadily louder. When Spike looked up, Scald was grinning a wicked, sharp grin. “Amusing. The pony believes a dragon must justify where it goes and what it does,” he murred. “We owe you no ‘explanation’, pony. Lord Ember—” “Lord Ember will address the Princess herself!” snapped Ember. She huffed and settled her gaze once more on the Princess. “Dragons have never needed permission to fly these lands. Nor to roost in the mountains here. Suddenly you’re calling these acts of aggression?” she said levelly. Celestia’s lips became a thin line. “You assemble a force powerful enough to devastate my nation and cross our borders without warning or request. You besiege my capital, casting a looming shadow over my city and fomenting fear and intimidation among my subjects. You start a landslide crashing down my mountain while my ponies run in terror, and now consider abandoning the former safety of their homes to flee your presence. And now your advisors pepper my guards and I with insults and threats of destruction if we do not bend to your will,” she seethed with a glance at Scald before returning her fiery gaze downward. Spike felt a cold chill run down his spine. Angry Celestia was truly a terrifying sight to behold. Her gaze rested on Ember, piercing as a needle of ice and wavered not in the slightest. “Yes, Lord Ember, from where I stand these are acts of aggression, and if you offer no explanation then Equestria will have no choice but to conclude that we are under immediate threat... and we will respond accordingly.” Ember was silent a moment, her gaze unflinching. With a cold, sinking feeling it dawned on her that she was going to have to provide an answer not just for Celestia, but for her contingent of dragons besides. But she couldn’t be seen to yield to demands from a porcelain pony! So... how to respond to that? She raised her head high and spoke loud enough for all to hear. “I’m here to ask... here to... deman— convince... Equestria to share its... greatest treasure... with the dragons. A ‘gift’ that will help unlock our potential, and make us stronger than ever before.” That sounded ok. Above and around them there were murmurs of approval from the other dragons crowding the peak, their attention now highly focused on the scene playing out. “So I have heard,” said Celestia with another glance at Scald. “And I hear also that you intend to take it by force if we will not hand it over willingly.” She returned her gaze to Ember. When she spoke next, her voice was ice-cold. “I honestly do not know what fable or myth you have chased to this land, Lord Ember, but I assure you it is just that. There is nothing Equestria possesses that can grant you more power than you already enjoy. What you seek is not here, and Equestria has nothing else to offer those who come in force armed with threats. I suggest you take your subjects and depart in peace, before you waste any more of your time on us.” “Hah! You expect us to be deceived? If you will not offer your treasure, pony, then we will—!” “Scald!” snapped Ember for the last time. “If I have to still your tongue once more, I’ll have Char tie it in a knot.” When she looked back to Celestia something seemed to change for the darker in her expression. “I see,” she said slowly, deliberately. Her eyes narrowed. “You know... maybe it is just a myth. A fantasy. Equestria clearly isn’t the place I thought it was. Why would it be? Why would you be any different?” she growled. Celestia’s eyes narrowed further and her stance widened a little, ready to defend herself, the next action of her counterpart far from certain. “Ember, wait... we can talk about this,” Spike tried but she had already spun around, her attention removed from Celestia, the cold-shoulder well and truly given. “Scald,” she huffed. “We’re leaving. Sunrise. Tell Pyre he has until then to stop crying about his hurt wing and make himself flightworthy.” “My Lord,” growled Scald, “I would not have you leave without that which you desire. And if the pony will not give it up willingly— ” “I said we’re leaving! I was wrong. What I wanted... we won’t find it here.” She gave a quick look back at Celestia, and met her cool eyes with an icy stare of her own. “As for you, Princess: you don’t want us in your country? Fine. Far as you’re concerned, you’ll never have to worry about dragons entering Equestria again. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you’ll never have to worry about ponies and dragons even speaking again,” she said curtly. Then she turned fully away and walked with heavy, frustrated steps and clenched fists over to the large cave in the mountain slope where it met the plateau, and went inside. Had a door existed, it would have been slammed, hard. The whole scene played out with an air of finality that Spike picked up on. Wait. Never? As in... he might never see Ember again? This... couldn’t be how it ended, could it? He wanted to speak up. To yell at the top of his lungs to Celestia that Ember wasn’t really here for treasure, only for peaceful collaboration! But he couldn’t. Not without undermining Ember in the eyes of the dragons, jeopardising everything she hoped to achieve. That wasn’t his place. Besides, the damage looked like it had already been done. But there had to be a way to save something here! For her part Celestia seemed surprised, though only for a moment. Her goals surprisingly met and caught without any other reaction she simply nodded a perfunctory ‘very well’ nod. She gave Spike a quick nod and turned, heading for her chariot. Spike automatically began to follow her, thoughts racing, but even as he started to move he was stopped in his tracks by a low, rumbling voice. “Where are you going?” Spike’s blood turned to ice. He turned, slowly, to see Scald’s confused face. Celestia turned cautiously, brow creasing in anger. “He is going home...” she said, her voice a snarl, her nose wrinkling. “He is,” agreed Scald. “He is a dragon. What makes you think that he would want to spend any more time surrounded by ponies?” “Experience,” growled Celestia, planting her hooves again. She lowered her horn and every Guard in the troop shifted their spears. Suddenly, leaving the mountain-top without a fight seemed far less likely. “If you think he is staying here...” “Do not pretend you have any concern in this, pony,” bit Scald. He looked to Spike. “You have only one Lord, young one,” he said. “She gave a command. We are to leave and never return. Never to speak to their kind again.” Spike’s blood froze and he looked from Scald to Celestia, who in turn looked to the dragon before her. Celestia, who spoke in a low voice. “Spike... you do not have to do anything she says.” Spike gulped. Somehow... though he wasn’t sure how... he had messed this up completely. He stood, rooted to the spot, fear beginning to grip him even as Princesses and giant beasts towered over him, apparently ready to delve headlong into a conflict that would surely never have arisen had he just... stayed home. But he was here now. And even as fear threatened to paralyse him, willing him to remain meek, silent and confined to the background where he could do no further harm, he heard the call of duty. Faint, but there. He needed to act. And there was only one way he thought he could do any good. “Princess?” said Spike. “I... I’m staying.” Which, practised composure or no, clearly threw Celestia completely. She blinked, her visage one of surprise, and she looked in shock at him. “Spike... please, no. Equestria is your home, and it will protect you.” “But it can’t. It’s... it’s really okay,” he said with resolve. “I want to stay.” He felt such guilt, as though he were committing a betrayal. And yet if he returned to Canterlot, there would be nothing more he could do. He doubted he’d be able to change Celestia’s mind about Ember, especially after this, and he couldn’t let this lie as it was now. Not when he knew there had to be a better way. “What more do you need to hear, pony?” asked Scald with a sneer. “Leave now... while Lord Ember allows it.” Celestia was dumbstruck for a moment, but finally dipped her head and spoke. “If you are certain that is your decision, Spike, then... so be it.” She straightened and nodded a brave, understanding nod through lingering disappointment. Then she turned, head-high and walked regally back to her chariot. Moments later her whole entourage broke into a run across the plateau and took to the air as the Princess of Equestria departed the mountaintop. Scald gave a soft ‘harrumph,’ turned and lay down, settling himself once more at the edge of the plateau, one long forelimb draped over the sheer drop and watching Celestia’s procession as it descended toward the city. “Such insolence,” he muttered. Spike stood in the centre of the plateau, stranded and alone. He shook his head, looking at the floor. Not the best first meeting, then. Still, can only get better, right? * * * When Celestia strode into the throne room it was with an outwardly triumphant air. A projection of buoyant confidence mirrored in the uplifted spirits of her sizeable entourage, and yet even as Luna met her gaze, she could see it was a false thing. Her sister’s amethyst eyes betrayed a sense of unease that only her sibling detected, and before there could be any celebrating or even explanation, she raised her head to address the assembly. “I will speak to my sister alone,” Luna directed. New looks of confusion adorned every pony in the room – including Celestia herself, who seemed surprised that her true mood had been so easily unveiled, even by her own flesh and blood. The room cleared quickly for the second time that day, and as the door finally shut behind the last Guard, Luna looked to Celestia, her sister’s features already less guarded than a moment ago. “Tell me,” she said. There was a slight but certain pause, then Celestia spoke. “There is little to tell,” she admitted. “I spoke to them and their leader. They say they came to Equestria seeking some manner of treasure. Our greatest, apparently. That they would have us ‘share’ it with them.” Luna’s eyes widened with incredulity. “What do they imagine we have? Enough gold and jewels to satisfy all of their appetites?” “No. Something more specific. Something they claim will make them more powerful. ‘Unlock their potential’ was the phrase she used. A talisman? An artifact? She never said. Toward the end I even began to wonder whether she might have meant something less... tangible...” she trailed off, and there was that subtle look of disquiet once more before she unsuccessfully tried to force it away. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter now. They have agreed to leave us alone. They say they will depart soon. And never return.” Luna’s eyes narrowed in thought, her sister’s discomfort still apparent. “You believe they have sold you a falsehood? That they intend to attack and take their imagined prize?” “No,” said Celestia, though her voice did not carry its usual full confidence, her head hanging a little. “The Dragon Lord appeared... sincere.” “Then... this is good news, is it not? The desired result? Our city and our friends are safe?” pressed Luna. There was a long, silent pause, drawn for an interminable moment. “What is wrong, sister?” Another pause. Then, “I should have listened to you,” said in a whisper. Celestia finally shook her head, and hung it. “I keep replaying it over and over in my head, Luna. In hindsight everything feels... wrong, somehow. That this is the wrong result, and it is because of me.” “How so?” Celestia managed to raise her head again, to meet her sister’s eyes before her head hung once more. “I thought a dialogue with the dragons would be like trying to hew a block of marble. I went in with hammer and chisel, intending to bludgeon it into the shape I wanted with brute force.” She lowered her head again and shook it. “What if I was wrong? What if it only looked like marble, but was actually clay? Something that with more care I could have taken and moulded gently into something beautiful. But no. I was blindly convinced by my own argument: the necessity to present a strong presence, deliver a firm response, and I hammered away. The clay became an ugly, deformed mess, set quickly, and with the final blow... I shattered it.” She sighed and shook her head. “The Dragon Lord was everything I expected. Forthright, commanding, combative, but... there were points when I felt a... ‘falseness.’ Once or twice, fleeting instances when I thought I could see beyond her performance and for an instant glimpsed... something behind.” “Something?” Again, she managed to meet her sister’s gaze, though her voice took on a plaintive, apologetic tone. “The olive branch,” she admitted. “I was tempted to reach for it, Luna. But it was too far away. I would have had to leap for it – grasp it with both hooves and trust it would take the weight of all Equestria and... I couldn’t do it. If it was a ruse? Tempting me to show weakness? One, thin olive branch, half-seen above a forest of thorns, ready to snap and send us plummeting into the sharp thicket waiting to tear us apart? It was an act of faith I could not muster. And now...?” A weak, wan smile came to her and a sickly chuckle rose from her throat. “And now I am mixing my metaphors. Clay and branches...” she sighed. “And all this after crowing about my diplomatic nous. I feel a fool.” Luna nodded thoughtfully. “It sounds as though you have simply taken the prudent course, sister. And with some success. After all, the city is not on fire, is it?” “But had I been more attentive, less rigid... what might have been torments me.” Celestia sighed again. Luna stepped closer to her sister, bending her neck and pressing her forehead to her sister’s, the bases of their horns resting side-by-side. A tender, conciliatory moment between two cherished siblings. Finally Luna straightened. “It might have been. It also might never have been. I know you will not listen but do not castigate yourself too severely, Tia. Our response had to be firm and you took the only course available based on the information we had at hoof. And if what you say is right, then because of you Canterlot and its ponies are safe and we have no more cause to fear the dragons now or in the future. By any measure we would have made this morning, this is a success.” “Yet it does not feel like a victory.” “It is what it is,” said Luna. “We should not dwell or wallow in ‘what might have been.’ Nor should we act with complacency. If it is fair to say that we have not left a wholly positive impression, then until the danger is past and the dragons have departed, I believe it would be premature to stand our defences down.” “There’s more.” Celestia’s head drooped even further. “Spike was there. I don’t know how, but he was. He chose to remain with the dragons.” “Spike? You believe he is being coerced by them? That he is there against his will?” “Coerced? By circumstance, perhaps, but I believe it was his choice to remain. I... I fear my behaviour – toward someone he believes is his friend – may have been a factor. I don’t know if he is coming home, Luna.” Luna thought on this for a long moment, then answered. “Let us place a little more faith in him. If he chose to remain, let us assume he had reason to. Perhaps there is yet a chance for a brighter outcome.” * * * “Ember?” called Spike, his voice echoing from the cold, dry walls of the cave. Inside, the cave was roughly twenty feet high, though the ceiling was festooned with long, thick and sturdy-looking stalactites, and so it appeared more cramped. Ember was standing near the back wall of the cave, back hunched, head low, fists still clenched hard enough to turn her knuckles white. Seething. She seemed not to have heard him, and so he approached carefully, and when he drew near, spoke more softly. “Ember?” She gave a slight jerk – a surprised little flinch – and stared back at him with one eye. “What are you still doing here? Go back home to your friends, why don’t you? You’re the only dragon who ever will.” “I’m staying,” said Spike, managing to fall into his usual affable smile and tone. “I said you weren’t on your own in this, and I meant it.” He almost risked reaching up to put a claw on her shoulder, then thought better of it. And not only because she was still that much taller than he was. “I’m here for you until we can get this figured out.” “Figured out?!” spat Ember, whirling around to face him. “There’s nothing to figure out, Spike! It’s pretty clear that ponies don’t want anything to do with dragons. They don’t want to help us and they sure as sulphur don’t want to be... friends!” “I’m not gonna pretend that didn’t go... badly,” admitted Spike. “But it’s a classic case of getting off on the wrong hoof, that’s all.” “The wrong hoof?!” She snapped. “The ponies were supposed to come and be all nicey-nice, cheerful and full of love and rainbows. This was supposed to be easy! But instead Pony Princess Weird Hair decides she wants to bite my head off for absolutely no reason? Dragons have never needed permission to cross Equestria, and all we’ve done is sit here quietly and wait until they were ready to talk to us... and for that she calls me aggressive? What hoof should I have tried instead, Spike?!” She took a steady, calming breath and relaxed her fists a little. “Well... I don’t think Scald helped,” said Spike carefully. “Scald’s a jerk, but he’s also a dragon. If dragons and ponies are going to get along, he’s part of that deal.” “But I don’t think he’s that interested in getting along with ponies. Or anyone for that matter...” “That’s because he doesn’t know any better. Neither does any dragon. Neither did I! That’s why we’re here, Spike!” She took a breath. “At least I thought that’s why we were here. I mean, I wanted my dragons to see Equestria’s most powerful ponies working together, and see the advantages that brings! That was half the point! And then she comes alone? How do I work with that?!” “You can’t just arrive here with no warning and expect all of the Princesses of Equestria to roll out the red carpet for you.” “Scald told me I could.” “Scald is wrong about a lot of things,” bit Spike. “Yeah? Maybe I was wrong. What if ponies are all jerks too? Is what I saw with you and your friends... a one-of-a-kind thing that doesn’t exist anywhere else?” “No, of course not. Ponies are friendly, and they want to be friends too!” “What happened outside just now says otherwise,” grouched Ember. “Because they’re terrified of you, Ember!” cried Spike, and there was a moment of instant, echoing silence before Spike continued in a more measured tone. “They don’t know you like I do. They’re afraid that at any moment you could snap your fingers and a hundred dragons will raze Equestria to the ground just because you feel like it. It’s scary for them and your introduction didn’t exactly scream, ‘hi, we’re here to make friends and definitely not destroy you.’ That’s... sort of what they needed to hear.” Ember huffed and folded her arms. “I’m not gonna beg friendship from a pony Princess, Spike.” “I get that. I know you can’t say it like that in front of all those big, respected dragons out there... but I told you how the ponies were feeling about you showing up out of nowhere. I’m just saying maybe you should have put a little more thought into how you were going to get your message across to the most powerful pony in Equestria before you met her face to face?” It seemed that touched a nerve and Ember’s temper flashed red. “You’re trying to tell me this is my fault?!” she seethed. In an instant her arms were raised, claws out, reaching for Spike, stopping only a few inches from his neck as her self-control kicked in. Her voice became a furious growl. “If you were any other dragon...!” “But I’m not any other dragon,” said Spike, outwardly unfazed. He slowly raised his own arms, placed his claws upon Ember’s and guided them gently back down to her sides. “I’m your friend. And sometimes... friends have to tell friends things they don’t want to hear. It’s not all your fault. But it’s not all the ponies’ fault either.” There was a long pause, Ember’s breathing coming deep and smooth as she reined her temper in. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said at last, bluntly. “Everything I wanted for us – earning respect, building cities, whatever... it all hinged on them showing us how that’s done. And they don’t want to. And... I don’t know how to do it on my own. Don’t even know where I’d start...” she seethed, teeth clenched in frustration. “Really? It sounds more like you’re making excuses to give up.” “I’m telling you, it’s over.” “No it’s not. Because if there’s something I’ve learned, it’s that you don’t give up on friendship just because you get knocked down once.” “There isn’t going to be friendship, Spike. Didn’t you hear? We’re not welcome here. Prissy Princess saw to that.” Spike looked at her seriously. “Ember... I know Princess Celestia. I’ve known her all my life. Believe me, if there’s a way that this ends with ponies and dragons becoming friends, she wants it. Your dream doesn’t have to end here. We can fix this, together. I promise. We just need to talk to her again, okay? Maybe without Scald and your other dragons around, at least at first. Just so we can all be honest with each other.” Ember stared at him for a moment. She was obviously reluctant to believe him, but at the same time it was clear she wanted to, and he had been so absolutely certain that there was something to be salvaged here. Then, at length, she sighed. “It’s not gonna happen though, is it? I mean I somehow doubt she’s going to come back up here for another cosy chat.” “Well, no, that’s probably true...” said Spike, deliberately leaving the sentence hanging. Which caught Ember’s attention and she quirked an unamused eyebrow. “Just what are you suggesting?”