//------------------------------// // The Assembly // Story: Being Royalty // by Coronet the lesser //------------------------------// Storm Mount sat with a smug smile sitting quite comfortably on his dry lips. He took a quick drink from the glass that had placed on his makeshift podium in front of him. Occasionally his ear flicked out as another shout resonated in his ear drums. It was the roar of five hundred very ticked off nobles. It was like sweet music to his ears. Was there any greater pleasure then seeing his upstart, pig-headed ‘brethren’ raging like foals who just lost their favourite toy? Their snarling faces contorted in outrage of matters they neither possessed the intellect nor the capacity to understand beyond face value. There was always two sides. One consisting of the ultra-conservatives, whom Storm Mount thought on occasion, vied for the days when there were still serfs around. The other group were what the prime minister liked to call the ‘educated’ class. Young nobles who believed that there should be greater self-determination for the ponies they governed. Which was a complete lie, if one to merely look deeper than that. All they truly wanted was to decentralise the state in order to having more acting powers impressed on themselves. Both were as bad as each other. Logic was not a word that sat well with these ponies. Storm Mount was like a teacher among children here. Of course, it was rather irritating being pulled from his rather cosy bed, early in the morning, for problems that should have been left in more capable hooves. But his annoyance quickly subsided to surprise upon learning that several of ‘noble’ houses had called a surprise meeting of the Assembly, to be held within Canterlot’s council chambers. The Assembly was an oddity in itself. Rarely called upon due to its usual incompetence and the logistical issues with gathering five hundred extremely wealthy and very selfish ponies. Most of the time though, it just acted as a forum for the nobility to bully the government under the idea that it was the will of the ponies, to which the houses were reportedly, meant to represent. The pristine surroundings certainly did not emulate the filth spilling from each refined voice, within the hallowed halls. Sometimes he wondered whether he was in a government building or a tavern after midnight, such was the state of politics in Equestria. ‘Well, it could be worse,’ he mused to himself. 'At least nopony has started murdering each other like some of the Minotaur clans.' He paused for a moment as something was thrown from across the room. ‘Yet anyway.’ The hall was built much like any ordinary parliamentarian building within the known civilised world, similar in design to the utterly irrelevant House of Commons. Seating was arranged in a circular design that went fully around the room, which was only broken by an entrance door. There was enough seats to hold around six hundred members of the nobility. In truth, it reminded Storm Mount of the old university halls from his youth except slightly more overwhelming in its stature. There was of course primary seating for the more ‘important’ houses, which were opposite to the large exit doors and the centre of the room, which Storm Mount and several members of his cabinet were now standing on. The whole thing was presented like some farcical court. Eventually the hammering of a hoof against an oak table begged for quiet from all sides, though the action only became relevant as some of the more ‘vocal’ members of the Assembly required a moment, to quench their parched throats. Storm Mount briefly regarded the Representative of the Houses. The old stallion who went by the name of Lord Shell stood to attention before the assembled mass. Behind him sat the heads of the most important houses, all dressed in the finest clothing bits could buy. “The houses call for quiet,” he bellowed, his frame shook violently as he did so. “We wish to speak to the Prime Ministers in regards to our questions.” “This incompetent fool has done us enough already, questions are no longer warranted,” replied a shrill voice from the upper rafters. The countess of house Evergreen stood to attention. “Need there be more evidence, then his suicidal support of a commoner in relation to the throne.” “That commoner, is your princess and should be treated with the respect she deserves,” roared a relative of the defence minister. Cheers broke around him, the countess sneered ans sat down with a scowl on her face. “She is no princess of mine,” countered Sir Quartz. A great mix of boos and cheers rang out at his remark. Though several ponies around him try to drown it out. “My fore fathers did not spill precious blood centuries ago, so the very leaders of our state could become tainted. I tell you this only the beginning of a very slippery slope that our fair country is headed. If this…girl is to gain even a fraction of power.” He quickly retook his seat with a huff. Several ponies around him shook him in celebration. “Tainted,” sneered Storm Mount, finally gaining his voice among the nobles. “Says the house with so much inbreeding that your very children are incapable of counting to five. Perhaps it’d be more befitting for your ilk to prefer the company of dogs in the muck rather then amongst nobles.” “How dare you! I’ll kill you!” Quartz appeared to attempt to run down from his seat only to be held back by several of his friends from pursuing his malcontent any further. Another bang brought attention back to Lord Shell. “My fellow nobles can we stop this madness,” he sighed, sounding defeated and very tired. “We are meant to be above such barbarous accusations.” He shot a withering look at Storm Mount, who shrugged off the glance. After a tense moment the chamber seemed to calm slightly. It was all a game anyway. Nothing said was personal. Most of the time. “The Prime Minister is correct,” called out Equis, the duke of Trottingham, from behind the representative. “This meeting was not called to act as forum to spew bile between rivalling families. Our sole concern is to discuss the competency of the government in the backing of Princess Celestia’s student as an heir to the throne.” “House Blueblood objects,” spoke a soft and silky voice to his right. The voice wasn’t powerful but everypony knew the person behind it was. The matriarch of house Blueblood. The widow of former Duke of Canterlot and the mother of the current Prince. “This is not a court. There are no objections. Besides nothing ill was said, if I heard correctly.” “Correction. The ‘Princess’ is not the technical heir to the throne. That position alone resides with my house. Until a said time in which Princess Celestia says otherwise I would like the Assembly to refrain from the use of such a title. While this may not be a court it is in the interest of the Assembly that we do not implant any false ideas in the minds of some of the nobility.” “You cannot instruct us as you wish matriarch but in future the Assembly will be sure to take more care in such honorifics. Please sit down,” wheezed Lord Shell. The mare seemed content and retook her seat pulling out a fan with her magic and began waving it at herself. “Vote?” questioned Storm Mount as he scrunched up his nuzzle in confusion. He looked back towards Inkwell. The mare shrugged and gave him a blank stare. “The nobility has displayed a desire to vote on the constitutional status of Princess Twilight’s role within government,” said Shell. “The matter has not been defined well enough to the assembly’s satisfaction.” “Out of the question!” shouted Storm Mount, his voice at full stretch. “She has been selected by Princess Celestia herself. The Assembly has no authority to decide who sits on the throne or not.” He scanned each row of seated ponies, daring any to say otherwise. “No it does not but we are the will of the ponies,” said Hooftone. A few of the more liberal ponies laughed at such a ridiculous statement, he ignored them. “While she is our princess, the Assembly is less willing to give supreme authority to one barely out of adolescence.” “What ponies? When was the last time any of you sat among the so called ponies you represent?” retorted Storm Mount, his very being incensed by such blatant lies. “Besides that so called child has shown more responsibility and personal strength then any member of the Assembly.” “Irrelevant, we are getting off topic,” harrumphed Lady Silver Line. “While the Assembly does not wish to go against the princess's wishes. Many of us feel that it would be ill advised to give power to one so young and inexperienced.” “Then what of young Cadenza, the Assembly seemed far more willing to accommodate her then our new leader. Despite her sharing similar disadvantages upon her ascension? ” “You know full well Prime Minister that Princess Cadence comes from an illustrious and well respected house. The matter with Princess Twilight is more complex regarding the purity of her blood,” spoke the Duchess of Baltimare. “Purity of blood, a weak excuse as any. You are making a mistake.” Storm Mount shook his head. This was headache he really did not need. “I have utter faith in the princess’s ability.” “Ah, but does your cabinet.” The suggestion stung, as it was intended to. Storm Mount knew that many within his cabinet had voiced displeasure over Princess Twilight’s ascension. When he looked back his gaze seemed to be drawn right towards Swift Charm. He decided to answer the noble as he turned. “That sir is truly irrelevant. My cabinet follows my example, there is no room for personal opinion.” “This still does not stem the possibility of a vote,” said the Lord of Manehatten. “We must decide how we feel on this.” Storm Mount for a brief moment panicked. It was a very unnatural feeling for him. If the council voted it would not only disgrace his government but also incur the wrath of Princess Celestia. He had to come up with something on the spot. Something that would delay any suggestion of a vote. “I hardly believe this is the time for such actions. It would be highly inappropriate considering the Princess’s current position.” “Why would that be?” asked Equis. “The Princess is on a vital diplomatic meeting to Saddle Arabia,” huffed Storm Mount. “It would only be common courtesy to let her hear why she is being accused of unsuitableness for her job considering that only a few months ago you were paying fealty to her at her coronation.” Some of the nobles had the decency to look away in shame. At least some recognised their hypocrisy. “Blasphemy! I have paid no fealty!” screamed one rather boorish looking noble from the rafters. A chorus of shouts blocked him from saying any more as the situation seemed to worsen once again. It looked like a brawl was going to break out but were it for the boom of a gavel on hard wood. “Quiet!” roared Shell as he shout a venomous look at the noble. The young noble sat down looking rather flushed. “Very well the Assembly will take a recess until a more convenient date. At which we will come to a vote. Until then Prime Minister.” Shell rose from his seat. The remaining nobility followed suit and began to shuffle from their seats. “You’re all making a grave error,” barked Storm Mount as the old stallion began to turn. “That is not your place to decide. This council is dismissed.” Slowly the chamber emptied of the nobility. Per custom, Storm Mount and his group were the last to leave the now quite hot room. “What I wouldn’t do for a drink right about now,” groaned Strom Mount. The old stallion moved slightly behind the rest of his ministers, deciding to spend his time with Inkwell as they left towards his office. It'd be a long walk. “Unfortunately for you, this country needs a sober Prime Minister,” she chirped “Especially when said Prime Minister will have to relay this news to the Princess and the House of Commons.” “Gods forbid that one of those civil service clowns tell her,” he chuckled. “It’d be another stick they’d get to beat me with.” “Exactly.” The two them shared a short laugh before the white mare poked him a bit. “One question though what’s with the old hag standing in for Blueblood?” “It’s trouble I tell you. Big trouble. That old mare is the instigator behind every stupid thing Blueblood does. It was a sad day when that harlot married the old Duke. She’s brought nothing but disgrace to the finest house in Equestria. Now here attitudes have worn off the prince. The boy will never grow up under her shadow. I bet she’s even the one pushing for this damn vote.” “So, what are we going to do about it?” “We’re going stop this vote.” “How?” Storm Mount stopped. Before reaching into his coat pocket. It was a change purse, Inkwell presumed. The Prime minister jingled it for a moment before unsheathing it to reveal a dazzlingly beautiful stone. He inspected it and smiled before shooting a mischievous grin to Inkwell. "When you’re in this business as long as I am you learn a few tricks, kid." He tossed the stone up into air before catching it again. “One of the first being, that everpony, no matter how wealthy, has their price.”