//------------------------------// // A Feathisian Engagement // Story: EaW: From Front to Front - The Great War // by Warpony72 //------------------------------// January 2nd, 1009 ALB The Imperial Palace Griffenheim, Herzland One feature the city of Griffenheim had was that it had been designed for capacity. With the immense size of the Empire at its height, the capital of course had to be built to match it.  The city was easily the largest on the continent, only rivaled by Romau itself, and the center of this was the truly enormous Imperial Palace at its heart. This had been shown during the sendoff the Empire held for the Changeling mission a few months ago, or the Imperial Banquet last year in which those traitors hadn’t attended. But she dropped such negative thoughts, pulling her fine cloak closer as she looked out over Griffenheim at night.  The smokestacks of Industrie were visible in the far distance, and she could still see the Griffking River bisecting the city, dividing the upper district from the lower ones. Quite a glorious sight, and she felt her breast fill with a sense of pride knowing that it was her hard work that had wrangled the Regency into actually making the changes necessary to bringing the Empire back to glory. Duchess Gabriela Eagleclaw heard a knocking at the heavy wooden door behind her, the one leading out onto the landing she currently occupied.  Her bodyguard, not one of her knights from Readewetter but a pair of soldiers from the Imperial Guard (it was thought to show less favoritism to use Guardsgriffs instead of Strawberry's knights), glanced at each other before readying their MP14 ‘Specht’ submachine guns.  One cracked the door open, speaking quietly to whoever had knocked before he looked over at the Duchess. “Your Grace,” the soldier said, holding the door in a way that his body would have to be moved if he was to abruptly be shot, allowing her a second to respond.  “The Grand Duke is here, ma’am.” “Admit him,” the pink griffon replied, turning to look back out at the city.  “I’ve been expecting him.” The Guardsgriff stood aside, allowing Grand Duke Gerlach IV Weijermars to step through, his black and yellow enchanted plate glinting in the flickering light from the electric lantern on either side of the door.  Behind him, his own bodyguards awaited, a pair of Ducal Guards in similar knight’s plating, swords at their sides and pistols on hips. The Grand Duke shivered lightly as he stepped out into the brisque winter night air, breath billowing in clouds from his beak. “I swear, I only just arrived and I seem to have forgotten how cold it was out here,” he stated, tugging his own cloak closer.  He glanced up at the lamps, an eyebrow raised. “Last time I was here, those were still oil lanterns. Somegriff sprung for an upgrade.” “It was time,” Gabriela said from the rail, drawing Gerlach’s eye.  She saw his grey feathers fluff slightly under his collar and around his plumage before he quickly managed to flatten them out, and smiled to herself while he couldn’t see.  “There’s been a lot of change in the Empire as of late.” “Yes.  And not all of it good unfortunately,” Gerlach replied.  Normally known as ‘the Silent’ for his calm demeanor, Gerlach also had a way of being blunt and polite at the same time that few monarchs or nobles could do or cared to do.  He approached, halting just out of wings’ reach from her.   “You look beautiful tonight,” he commented idly, all trace of his tension gone as he smiled towards her once more.  Schooling her features, she turned towards him, her cloak held closed tightly as she appeared to inspect him with cold indifference.   “Are you here to talk business, or simply to play the game of flattery?  I assumed from your telegram it was the former.” “Actually, its funny you mention those together,” Gerlach said, his smirk having yet to fade.  “Since they are one and the same.” Gabriela scrutinized the Grand Duke closely, noting that, while his demeanor appeared quite calm and collected, he twitched slightly under her gaze, his own eyes flickering over her shoulder occasionally.  She nodded to her Guards. “Leave us.” The soldiers looked to each other uneasily, SMGs still held at the ready over their chests before they moved slowly to the door, glancing back at her.  She understood, of course. The Imperial Guard’s duties were to defend Griffenheim and the Herzland, handpicked from the best the Landwehr and Reichsarmee had to offer.  They were utterly devoted to her safety. Willingly stepping away was something that sat ill at ease with them. The Ducal Guards looked to their sovereign, who nodded as well, grateful for the momentary distraction.  The knights took their leave as well, their features more schooled but clearly just as awkward about leaving the Grand Duke here without protection, going to stand in the hallway to stare at the Guardsgriffs.  The heavy wooden door scraped shut with a thud, dislodging a bit of snow from the stones over it. As soon as they were alone, Gabriela relaxed slightly, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding before smiling over at the Grand Duke warmly. “Gerlach,” she said, beckoning him over.  “It’s been a while since we’ve been alone like this.” “It has,” he replied, stepping to join her at the stone railing.  “Gods know we can’t exactly rendezvous with the Council everywhere.” They watched Griffenheim for some time, listening to the thrum of automobiles and late night industry.  On the river, a barge blew its horn, and the clatter of late-night tavern goers echoed out of every district, almost discernible even here.  The spirit of Mondstille was still strong in the air, and would carry on likely until the end of the month. It was difficult to not find excuses to get together, drink and make merry, and this was one of the few holidays where nobles and commoners shared an equal level of celebration.  Upstate manors were just as festively lit and active as riverside tenements, uniting Imperial society on a level scarce enough in the Herzland. “You’ve been busy,” Gerlach commented, glancing her way before he looked back at the skyline.  In the distance, a cluster of griffons flew by, likely rebellious youths enjoying the winter air before the polizei chased them down.  Flying over the imperial city at night was dangerous, and therefore illegal. The shadows flitted over modern electric streetlights, past cable cars and automobiles in the streets.  Higher overhead, a handful of Imperial Guard airplanes soared by, fighters running patrol screens.  Though a small patrol, that small handful represented a good portion of his own air force back in Feathisia, and he felt a small stab of jealousy. “It was time to bring the Empire into the modern age,” she said.  “My cousin was a compassionate griff...but he was no visionary.” Likely due to the fact that his illness occupied a large portion of his attention, but the obvious went unsaid. “Oh, is that what you are?” Gerlach asked instead.  “A visionary, come to save the Empire from itself?” “I’ve done a damn good job so far,” Gabriela defended, only half serious in her offense.  This was an old topic between them, though when it was out on the Council floor he often pointed to the seeming double standard of allowing merchant princes and clergy into the Council, but refusing to grant written rights to common griffons in the Empire.  She had argued back that the balance of power needed to be maintained, and so on and so forth. But the heat and venom were saved for the chamber, in front of the rest of the Regency. Here, by themselves, such topics were often handled much more airily. “Oh yes, damn good job losing half the Empire,” Gerlach teased, though he was cautious with his tone.  The Holy League was the reason the Guard were flying night patrols over the city. The reason for the massive buildup in the Reichsarmee.  Troops had been called down from Bronzkreuz, the fantical dog regiments helping to reinforce the Herzland. The Barkginian Guard were busy guarding their five year old charge as he slept, and Imperial generals had wanted more of the ecstatically loyal shock troops standing by for what they saw as the inevitable. “Why are you here, Gerlach?” Gabriela asked, her tone still polite, but bearing the faint edge of ice in her voice.  He realized he had indeed crossed a line, and quickly moved to secure her affection and attention once more. “Can I not simply steal away to spend time with the love of my life?” he questioned, reaching up and taking her claw in his, squeezing lightly.  She looked back at him, smiling briefly to show she wasn’t quite so irate with him before she looked back over the city once again. “You could, though I am a fool for accepting.  I have a train to catch tomorrow to Oldwingburg.  The Statthalter wanted to speak with me about the Pythagorean Academy.” “Which is why I wanted to ask you out here under the midnight sky, my love,” Gerlach stated, sweeping his other claw across the sky.  Gabriela fixed him with an exasperated smile. “It is two in the morning, Gerlach.” “Bah, details!” the Grand Duke shot back, waving a claw in front of his beak dismissively.  “My train was late. The point is, I am here because I heard a small rumor that you are planning to expand the Empire’s power.” “The rumor should not have been passed, I said it in confidence to my nephew.  Besides which, whether or not it is true, it is not an expansion if the Empire is merely taking back what already belongs to us.” “So it is true, then?  You seek to end the autonomy of the vassals?” Gabriela fixed him with an actual glare of exasperation now, sighing and rubbing her beak tiredly.  “The Heartlands need to be united, now more than ever. With this rebel alliance in the south and the revolutionaries building themselves up in Cloudbury, our enemies will not wait for us to recover naturally.  How long until Aquileia tries their luck? Or Wingbardy?” At the mention of the southern kingdom, both she and Gerlach grimaced.  Prime Minister in name only, Giulio Beakolini was a loudbeaked braggart who made fiery speeches from the podium, having effectively sidelined his king and annihilated the communists in his nation.  But nogriff could deny that in the short time since he’d seized parliament, he’d effectively reversed Wingbardy’s economic ruin, and was building the kingdom into an industrial giant off their newly found bounty of oil.  It was only a matter of time until his armies matched his amibition. But after that, Gerlach began nodding. “I know.  And on a level, I agree.” She blinked in shock, studying her lover carefully.  In the Council chamber, he had publicly accused her of using Imperial unity as an excuse to cushion her own power by stripping it from the vassals at gunpoint, citing the fact that Feathisia was a constitutional monarchy, and the Empire and absolute one.  Fights had broken out, and political deadlock was looming. But now, it was more than mere suggestion. Now, it was starting to look like unity at the end of a bayonet was the only way. So to hear him suddenly agree with her, even in private, was a little startling to the Duchess Regent. Gerlach continued. “There are reforms you are making that are working.  And there are reforms I am making that are equally working.  But the truth is on the wall. Alone, we are but a pack of sheep ready for slaughter.  There are far graver things in the world than loss of face.” He sighed, studying her closely.  “I have heard from the north.” “The Order?” Gabriela asked quietly, to which the Grand Duke nodded.  “What news?” “Headmaster Torygg’s death goes much further than we had expected,” he said.  “At first we had suspected Greneclyfian interference. But William Steel Beak disagreed.  Now he thinks the Dread League had something to do with it.” “The dead?” Another nod. “So in the face of rebels, traitors, revolutionaries, breakaways and warlords, we have a looming apocalypse to contain.  Wonderful.” she huffed, all her contentment and holiday spirit gone, replaced by a grim fatalism. There was no way the Empire was ready for the Dread League if they rose again. “The Empire needs unity.  We must put aside all of our previous conflicts and focus on what matters.”  Here, Gerlach took the claw he clutched, raising it and her other claw up to grasp them both, much to her surprise.  “Which is why I must ask, Gabriela Eagleclaw, love of my life and possibly the most amazing woman I have ever met,” to this, her feathers ruffled unintentionally, both embarrassed, flattered and now anticipating his next words. Gerlach went onto one knee, holding her claws up in his own mailed gauntlets to her utter amazement. “Marry me, Gabriela?” he asked, smiling as his own feathers ruffled, his apprehension written all over his beak and the rest of his body.  “Be my wife and complete me. We unite the Empire together and save Griffonia.” “Is that all?” she quipped off the cuff before she clamped her beak shut, feathers now practically sticking out from her skin.  For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, and he watched her with hope in his eyes, claws still tightly clutching hers. “What about the Regency?” she asked quietly.  “The Council will never accept you over me. Not after everything we’ve been through to this point.” “I looked it up in the Imperial archives,” he shot back confidently.  “The Regent has the ability to name a co-Regent. Split authority down the middle.  The two share power, and responsibility. I can stand across from you in the chamber as I always have and speak for the moderates, while you can remain as the traditionalist and speak for the nobles.  By Tartarus, they may even come to see you as their defender against me.” Gerlach chuckled at the thought. “So all that talk about the Empire stampeding over your reforms?  All your hard work?” “There is no reason we cannot work it out together.  I have every confidence that the reforms the Ducal Party have proposed can be integrated to what the Regency Council is planning.  We can compare, and plan what is best for the Empire’s future.” He grinned up at her. “And you get a navy.” “I get the Ducal Fleet?” she asked, a little more excited than she’d meant to be.  When Skyfall had rebelled, they had taken most of the Kasierliche Marine with them.  The ships remaining had formed under Feathisian command. Certainly no true match for the battleship armada Skyfall commanded, but something was better than nothing, and she’d dreamed of eventually taking over those ships and expanding them into a true navy again. “Better,” he countered.  “I have a new battleship under construction in Rottendedam.  The most modern one in Griffonia. Cutting edge technology, the biggest guns in the fleet.  She’ll be finished in July, I’ve been told, and named on her commission.” “And what, pray tell, were you planning to name her?” she asked teasingly, not letting him win her over quite yet. His smile, so wide before, tightened as he looked up at her, taking a breath before replying “I was hoping she might earn the name KMS Gabriela.  Perhaps we could even have the wedding on her deck.” They were both silent for a few moments, her gawking at him in awe and delight, and him clutching her claws even tighter, awaiting her answer with bated breath. Finally, she gently pulled her claws back, taking his face and lifting him up, confused as he stood.  She gently preened against him, her cheek against his, still smiling as she stood back to look up at him. “Give me some time?” she asked quietly.  His expression was visibly crestfallen. He looked almost crushed, to which she hurriedly put his fears to rest.  “Just the night! I can give you an answer in the morn. I just need to consider...everything.” “Ah,” Gerlach managed, frowning in concern.  Not so much crushed now as much as very, very confused.  “Then...before you leave?” “Yes!” she replied hurriedly, then her eyes widened.  “To answer! I mean,” she laughed nervously, clearing her throat as she smoothed her feathers down.  He cleared his own throat as well, trying to straighten his features. “Well, yes, of course.” “Do you have guest chambers already?” “No, I came straight here,” he replied, straightening his armor as he tried to look everywhere but at her. “Take the ones you had last time.  I’ll see to it that everything's arranged.  And...and I’ll see you at breakfast.” He looked up at her now, taking a deep breath as he tried to contain himself, nodding sharply in reply. “Yes...of course.  Thank you, Gabri-...Your Grace.” He bowed his head, moving towards the door before he paused, turning back to her again, all knightly demeanor and discipline. “Apologies.  May I be dismissed to my chambers?” “Yes,” she replied quietly, pulling her cloak tighter, suddenly missing his claws in hers.  He nodded back, taking the handle on the door and pulling it open. Just as he was about to step back into the warmth of the tower, she suddenly called out “Gerlach!” He paused, the door wide open, his knights looking over to him as the Guardsgriffs did as well.  Two servants were moving down the hallway, a pony and a dog attending to the tapestries and a flower vase, and despite knowing better they also looked over towards the noise. She steeled herself, staring him dead in the eye as she declared “I love you.” He was stunned.  She knew exactly what saying those words in front of everygriff else meant.  Slowly, a small smile stretched across his beak. “Then you know what answer I want to hear,” he replied.  Now, slower and without taking his eyes off of her on the snowy landing, he pulled the door shut. In the morning, in that same hallway, she gave him exactly the answer he wanted.