//------------------------------// // Part Ten // Story: The Princess and the Kaiser // by UnknownError //------------------------------// Flurry Heart flew through downtown Weter after sundown, gently flapping her wings towards the High Hotel. It was named such due to its status as the second-tallest building in Weter, after the radio station. It was in the fancy area of downtown, far enough from the port to avoid the stench of the dockyards and far enough from the factories to avoid the smog. Unlike Ponyville, which was exactly in the right spot to have both. Flurry rarely traveled downtown; the Capitol Building was two blocks away, and she was only welcome for photo opportunities or community outreach events. She had better places to go to anyway. Flurry drifted below cloud level and above any night fliers. There was little traffic on the roads below, and few of the griffons that could own vehicles risked them after nightfall. Flurry glided around the tall building, squinting to check the room numbers on the balconies. Like most griffon architecture, the High Hotel was designed for a species that could fly up to their rooms from the outside. Unlike pegasi, griffons did not use clouds wholesale for design and texture. They preferred vertical architecture from the ground, built in solid materials with plenty of space in the interior. Flurry circled the third floor twice, passing in front of armed guards in Reich colors on several balconies. There were more guards on the roof several stories up. The alicorn debated attempting to land and enter through the lobby and up the elevators, but there would doubtless be staff inside, and Flurry wasn’t that confident on her spellcraft. The muffling spell was easy. The invisibility spell was harder. It took constant effort to maintain, and Flurry had forgone clothes on the cold winter night. The clothes would interfere with her spell; the folded letter in her mouth blinked in-and-out of sight on its own. As far as anypony knew, she was in her bed for the night. It had been five days since Celestia abandoned her ponies again, and Flurry acted appropriately subdued and melancholy, accepting the sympathies of her friends and guards, but taking care not to worry Thorax too much. If he believed she was too depressed, he would have her watched too closely to slip out. Flurry made sure to put on a brave face and go to the soup kitchen and makeshift clinic, exhausting herself as usual. Thorax knew she was hiding her true feelings, but he didn’t suspect her plan. He’d probably find out later, after it was too late, but that was a discussion for the future. Flurry finally spotted room 312, on the northwest corner of the building. It had a balcony guarded by a lone griffon on a smoke break. Flurry landed on the balcony above as softly as she could, then checked the surroundings. There weren’t any guards within eyesight, but a patrol drifted lazily above her and circled the building. Flurry debated announcing herself to the guard. Grover said to trust his friend, and no griffon else. Flurry made up her mind and clenched the letter between her teeth. She leaned over the balcony and dropped the invisibility spell and muffling spell. Her horn made a shimmering sound. The griffon on the balcony below her looked up just in time to take a bolt to the beak. His eyes drooped and he collapsed onto the balcony in a slump, asleep. The cigarette rolled off the balcony. Flurry hopped down and dragged the griffon to the balcony doors, out of sight. Hopefully it’s too dark and the patrol is too lazy. Flurry burnt out the lock on the double doors after checking for wards or security spells. Of course, there weren’t any; griffons didn’t have access to that kind of magic without a unicorn’s help. She peered through the glass on the doors to see into the darkened room. Her blue eyes lit up in a gold glow as she cast another spell for night vision. In a word, the room was fancy. The chairs were engraved wood with cloud cushions, plus a polished glass table and an ice chest humming with an enchantment. There was a small radio on a shelf, better than anything her ponies could get their hooves on. The bedroom and bathroom doors were closed. Flurry pushed open the balcony doors and entered, sweeping with her magic. She felt a cold pit in her stomach at the thought that Bronzetail was out for the evening. Then she sensed his pistol in the bedroom. Judging from its location, Bronzetail was currently braced next to his bedroom door and waiting for it to open. He must have retrieved it off the nightstand next to his bed and clutched it in his right claw. He's probably expecting a changeling from Thorax, Flurry decided. She could also sense the guard’s automatic rifle still slung under his wing on the balcony, a new model and barely used. Flurry Heart waved her horn towards the hotel door and locked it with her wards, then did the same for the balcony doors. She waved her horn across the whole room and the walls shimmered blue. She kept her eyes on the bedroom in case he tried to rush her. Flurry set the letter down on the table and summoned a shield in front of her. “Bronzetail?” she asked. “It’s Princess Flurry Heart.” There was no response from the bedroom. “I want to talk,” she said in Aquileian. “Guards!” Bronzetail yelled in Herzlander. He yelled something else that Flurry didn’t know. “The room is warded,” Flurry replied. “No griffon outside can hear you.” Bronzetail fired twice through the door. The bullets sparked off of Flurry’s shield and she gasped. “Fine,” Flurry snarled and flared her wings, pawing at the floor. Her horn lit up and she teleported. Flurry reappeared in the bedroom, about a hoof from Bronzetail. He swiveled from the wall to aim at her, but she seized his pistol in her magic and held the trigger in place. She seized his other claw when he tried to swing at her. Finally, she pinned him to the wall with her telekinesis after he tried to lunge at her with his beak. She began to pry the pistol from his claw. “Let go,” she commanded, “or I’ll break your whole arm.” He still struggled for a breath longer, but apparently realized he was actually dealing with magic and relented. Flurry pried the pistol from his claw and ejected the clip. She felt it in her magic. He had fired it before in battle, killing two griffons at different times. She pulled the slide back and removed the other round before tossing the pistol on the cloud bed. She released him and the griffon slumped down against the wall. Flurry suppressed a chuckle as she realized he slept in a white nightshirt and a nightcap with his officer rank on it. “Kill me changeling,” he rasped. “I expected it. What will you tell your Princess after you betray her like this?” Flurry blinked. “I’m not a changeling,” she protested. “Your eyes,” the griffon coughed, gesturing at her muzzle with a talon. Flurry groaned and dispelled the night vision that turned her eyes gold. The room became much darker, only lit by her horn light. She squinted at Bronzetail, who squinted back. “It’s a spell,” she explained. “Besides, most unicorns or changelings would struggle to seize an adult griffon in their telekinesis. I want to talk.” “How am I to trust this is the truth?” the griffon asked. “If Thorax wanted to kill you,” Flurry answered, “he wouldn’t give you a chance to talk.” Bronzetail clacked his beak after a pause. “You were foolish to come here Princess,” he concluded. “You could have been shot.” “You sound like Thorax,” Flurry chided with a smirk. She glanced at the holes in the door and took a breath to lower her heartbeat. Bronzetail stood up and gingerly flapped his wings, wincing. Flurry stepped aside and let him cross over to a lamp on the bedside table. His eyes lingered on the pistol tossed onto the bed, but he made no move to grab it. He tapped at buttons that turned the electric crystals on. The room lit up in dim light. Bronzetail turned around and squawked in surprise. He covered his eyes with his claws. “What?” Flurry asked, wary. “Please, Princess, you are naked!” Flurry groaned. “Get over it,” she dismissed, and turned to walk into the main room. “This is indecent,” he protested and made no move to follow her. “We can either talk in your bedroom or talk out here,” Flurry challenged. “Where would you prefer a naked, underage alicorn to be in the dead of night?” Bronzetail made a choking sound. “Boreas, give me strength,” he prayed and followed her. Flurry settled onto a cloud-cushioned chair with a sigh. It had been too long since she had enjoyed cloud furniture. Some of the pegasi in the mountains used it, but the clouds near Weter were too polluted. Bronzetail tossed his nightshirt at her. He left his little hat in the bedroom. “Now, you’re naked,” Flurry remarked, “and this will cover nothing.” She thought about it. “Actually, this would be worse if some griffon walked in while you were naked and I was wearing your shirt.” Bronzetail’s eye twitched as he turned on another lamp. “For my own sanity, Princess, what little you and the Kaiser let me keep.” Flurry shrugged and slipped it on. It was a tight fit to squeeze her wings through the holes, but did cover her flanks a bit. Bronzetail inspected the balcony and stared at the fallen guard. “Did you kill him?” he asked. “No!” Flurry replied, insulted. Her wings fluttered. “It’s a sleep spell! He’s fine!” “How long will he be asleep?” “A day,” Flurry answered. “Probably,” she amended. Bronzetail nodded and rubbed a claw on his beak. “Probably,” he muttered. The griffon slumped into the chair across from her, muttering in Herzlander. “Why have you come, Princess?” he sighed in Aquileian. Flurry chewed on her cheek. “Thorax will send you another letter, along with our codes from Chrysalis. You’ll have to take it with you to Grover and the Archon to arrange the shipments.” “What about the letter to the Sun Princess?” “She refused to pass it along. She knows about the secret message. She doesn’t want the Reich’s help.” Bronzetail studied her. “And you do?” “Yes,” Flurry stated, “she said the Grovers were always cruel, but she’s wrong about Grover. I know him better than her.” Bronzetail was silent and didn’t reply. Flurry lit her horn and slid the letter across the table to the griffon. “This is for Grover,” she said. “He asked for it.” Bronzetail opened the letter and unfolded it, revealing the lock of her mane. He looked up at her. He still said nothing. “There are many dangerous spells that could be used with that,” Flurry continued. “I am trusting Grover, and you, with this.” Bronzetail folded the letter back up and stared at her. Flurry stared back. “Your guards do not know you are here,” he guessed. “Yes,” Flurry confirmed. “You don’t trust them?” “I trust them with my life,” Flurry countered, “but not with my decisions.” Bronzetail nodded. “I will carry this letter on my person at all times until I reach the Kaiser. It will not be lost. I will not say anything about it to your changelings,” he swore. He clutched the paper in a claw. Flurry nodded and stood. She removed the nightshirt, teleporting it away. It appeared in the bedroom with a crack. “Wait, please,” Bronzetail asked. “Are your spells still in place?” Flurry lit her horn warningly but gave a slow nod. “We have time before the patrols circle around,” Bronzetail said. He clacked his beak and furrowed his brow. “Is there a hidden message here?” he asked, gesturing with the letter. “No,” Flurry answered. “Just the hair.” Bronzetail’s wings and tail twitched as he thought. Flurry scanned him to make sure he wasn’t a changeling, cursing that she didn’t check earlier. He didn’t notice the magic sweep over him. Flurry waited for him to speak, warily glancing over the room. “Your letters,” the griffon finally stammered, “make Grover very happy.” Flurry Heart didn’t know how to reply to that. “He does not smile often,” Bronzetail explained in a rush, “and some of the palace attendants speak of him laughing and smiling at blank pieces of paper. It has been a rumor for years that he is mad. The Archon punishes the rumors severely in the press, but they still come up occasionally. The only fight Eros and Grover have truly had was when the Archon tried to have the letters stopped.” “Only Thorax and Dusty know I send him hidden messages,” Flurry warned, "and they don't know what I tell him." “I will say nothing,” he swore with a raised claw. “Does he talk about me? What did he tell you?” Flurry asked, curious. Without Thorax, I guess I’ll have to trust he’s telling me the truth. “He has made public comments on your rudeness in your letters, but that is clearly a ruse. He said nothing to me beyond the letters of instruction. It was a private meeting, but I imagine he feared eavesdropping.” “He’s smart,” Flurry smiled. “I had to have help to break his code. The spell will make it easier to reply, if he’s found somepony to help him.” “Perhaps the Aquileian ponies that tutor him,” Bronzetail guessed. “He wishes to learn the customs and traditions of all his subjects. He will be a good Kaiser, not like his father.” “That was hardly his father’s fault,” Flurry protested. “The Republicans nearly kicked him off his throne.” “They did kick him off; the nobility restored him, but they couldn’t finish the job and caused the Reich to fall apart.” “Why are you telling me this?” Flurry asked, impatient. Her wings fluttered. Bronzetail swallowed, making the effort to look at her. “A Kaiser has few friends and fewer equals. You are both.” “Grover has friends,” Flurry said. “He has Eros.” “Eros is not his friend. The Archon sees a symbol to unite us again. He is one of the oldest griffons alive; he remembers the Reich at its height. Griffonstone, where the Gods made us, is a ruin of stone buildings and poverty. Without the Idol of Boreas to unite us, the Kaiser himself must drive us to fly. The Archon is a good griffon, but Grover the Symbol matters more than Grover the Griffon to him.” “Benito,” Flurry tried. “Benito is his guard, not his friend. He is a good dog, from a line of dogs that are willing to die to protect the Kaiser’s family at any time. Grover cannot befriend a dog that could throw his life away at a moment’s notice.” “He has to have friends other than Thranx,” Flurry said. She scraped a hoof on the floor. “Who? Noble scions that would use him to further their stations? Subjects like me? Thranx spoke to him honestly because he had nothing to gain. He only wanted his life and safety in the Reich,” he squawked. “You are right. I do not know him, nor does the Archon; that is clear from his letter to you.” Has he ever written about any friends? Flurry asked herself. She'd have to go back through the letters. “His family is gone,” the griffon stated. “His father died of poor health after a lifetime of failure. His mother died giving birth to him. He has millions of griffons that view him as a blessing from the Gods, but that leaves him with nothing for himself. Nothing except your letters. When I saw your spell last week, I understood. You are similar.” He narrowed his eyes. “We hear stories of your charity and tours in the Reich. I believed they were exaggerated. The griffons here,” Bronzetail gestured to the opulent room, “believe that it is an act, that you are still a bratty princess and tool.” The griffon’s light brown eyes softened. “You are not. I have seen where you live. You give everything, like the Kaiser, just in a different way.” “I have friends,” Flurry stated. “You have subjects,” Bronzetail corrected gently. “Subjects that wish you the best and love you, but still subjects all the same.” “I can have friends and subjects,” Flurry said stubbornly. “If they were your friends first, you would have told them your plans tonight.” Flurry said nothing. She did not move to leave. “I am not accusing you, Princess,” the griffon said. “You must do what you think is best for your ponies, even if it is contrary to their will.” “What I say to Grover is nopony’s business but my own.” “So, you sent him a lock of your mane.” The griffon blushed. Flurry blinked, piecing together what he meant. Then she laughed, seeing Bronzetail’s point. I’m not courting Grover. “It’s just for the spell. Griffons and pegasi share feathers for courtship. Unicorns use horn rings. Earth ponies bind their tails, and bat ponies share braids on their manes.” “You are quite knowledgeable,” Bronzetail commented. “I’m the daughter of the Princess of Love,” she boasted. “Grover and I are friends. We’ve never spoken of love.” “It doesn’t have to be about love,” Bronzetail shrugged. “Most of the nobility did not marry out of love. My parents did not; my father needed to get out of debt.” “I’m sorry,” Flurry said. “Why? The marriage worked out in the end. They are happy and have a small home. I have two siblings.” The griffon leaned forward. “You lived in Aquileia. Have you heard of Guinevere Discret?” he asked. “She’s in exile with my aunts,” Flurry answered. Bronzetail shook his head. “No, that is Vivienne, the current false Princess of Aquileia. I speak of history. When Grover the Great died, the King of Aquileia rebelled the day his son was coronated Kaiser of the Reich. He believed that Grover II could not live up to the legacy of his father.” “He was a great warrior and expanded the Reich,” Flurry summarized. “He died leading a crusade in the Riverlands. He gave shelter to the dogs that escaped from slavery.” “But his first war was against Aquileia,” Bronzetail continued. “He shattered them; he led the armies himself. King Discret was captured and beaten to death by Grover on the floor of his palace. There are two legends about his daughter: I grew up near the border and heard both.” Bronzetail stood and fetched a bottle of alcohol from the ice chest. He offered some to Flurry, but she wrinkled her nose and waved a wing. He shrugged and took a drink. “The Herzlanders say that Grover demanded Guinevere’s claw in marriage after she pleaded for mercy for her griffons.” Bronzetail sat back down, still clutching the letter and bottle. “The Aquileians say she challenged him, swearing to fight on unless he accepted to marry her and end the violence; he was so taken by her fire that he agreed. I do not know which one is true, but both versions agree that she was the only griffon that could calm his rages, and he was never unfaithful. They had cubs together and ruled well, but it was not a marriage born of love.” “I don’t think Grover has anger issues,” Flurry said. “You want me to marry him?” “I think you might fit Grover II better than Guinevere,” Bronzetail chuckled. “But no, I doubt there is anyone on this world that could make you do something you did not want to do.” “He promised to help me. I don’t need to marry him to save my ponies.” “I believe he will keep his word, but what about afterward? The Princesses have always sneered at us from across the sea, and what the Kaiser suggests has never been done before.” He took another drink. “The war will be costly. Millions died in the Great War.” “As long as I sit on the throne, Grover will have a friend on Equus,” Flurry promised. “We will need help to rebuild, and the Crystal Mountains are rich in gems and ore. All of Equestria is rich in resources, no matter how long the Changelings plunder it.” “You are proposing materials we will desperately need, but that was not my question. Do you want to marry Grover?” he asked. “You are one of the few that could. The Archon has refused to discuss any marital matches with what’s left of the nobility. The Kaiser can pick any he wants when he comes of age. You are a Princess of Ponies, and of the same age. He looks at your letters more than any girl. Perhaps Boreas brought you together years ago…” Bronzetail trailed off. Flurry glared at him and lashed her tail. At fourteen, Flurry was old enough to begin having urges in the spring. It had been awful, and the intensity was probably inherited from her mother. Flurry spoke with colts her age in every village and town during her birthday tours, but she thought about none of them in her room, constantly casting a spell to clear smell out. She reread Grover’s letters to pass the time. “I have a duty to my Ponies,” Flurry deflected. “Marriage can be more about duty than love for some griffons,” Bronzetail said. “A marriage between a Princess and a Kaiser could be a symbol of unity.” Flurry flinched. Bronzetail’s eyes widened and he lifted a claw with her letter. “I do not mean to insult your mother,” he apologized. “Love is obviously important in any connection. I only mean that the two of you seem to be a good match. A marriage between the races could finally mend our old rivalry.” Flurry ignored that he misunderstood her reaction. “I don’t know how many Ponies would accept it. Celestia, Luna, and Twilight spoke against the Reich.” “I could say the same about griffons,” Bronzetail agreed, “but you are not the Sun Princess, and he is not Grover the Great. You and Grover will have to fight Chrysalis together. War is terrible, but it can forge new friendships in fire, even between griffons and ponies. I became Thranx’s friend during the war.” “And now you hate changelings,” Flurry countered. “I am sorry for my distrust of your uncle,” Bronzetail sighed. “I understand his paranoia and caution, all too well.” “Speaking of which, I need to get back before they realize I’m gone,” Flurry said, relighting her horn. She paused. “Are you married, Colonel Bronzetail?” “My name is Elias, Princess,” Bronzetail said. “I would be honored if you would use it. Yes, I am married to the daughter of a carpenter from my village.” “Do you think we’ll win this time, Elias?” The griffon was silent, blinking his bronze eyes in the light. He set the beer down on the table and clutched the letter against his chest. Flurry reflexively reached a hoof up to touch her crown. She didn’t wear it tonight; it wasn’t worth the hassle for the invisibility spell. “No,” he answered. “Not without our help. I swear that I will see the first shipment of tanks through myself.” When you leave, Flurry Heart thought. Whenever that may be. “Thank you,” Flurry said. "I am sorry for frightening you." She dispelled the magic on the doors, then cast her invisibility and muffling spells. The alicorn opened the doors and stepped over the sleeping guard. The patrols were lazy and didn’t spot him. “Good luck, Princess Flurry Heart,” Bronzetail whispered in Aquileian. Flurry leapt off the balcony and slowly glided away into the night.