//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10: The Messenger 
// Story: For the Good of Equestria 
// by brokenimage321 
//------------------------------//

	It was only mid-morning, but Celestia was already tired. 
She rubbed her temples as she watched the debate. She and Luna, on the advice of their  various advisors, had decided to turn their ruling council into a full-blown parliament, composed of representatives from their various allies and client kingdoms. She knew an assembly like this would make things easier on the two of them, and make the kingdoms themselves happy—but she hadn’t expected it to be so damn boring. 
She tried to focus for another fifteen minutes, listening to the representatives bicker about  taxes on a hundredweight of blueberries (Proposal §392.1.552) before checking out entirely. She didn’t know why she was even there, to be honest—the Parliment basically ran itself, and she never had much to say, anyways. Her main job was to sign or veto the various proposals as they came across her desk, and, more often than not, she signed the laws without looking at them; if smarter ponies than her decided that’s what would be good for the country, then so be it. 
But still: especially while this “democracy” thing was still in its infancy, it would be good to show that the Princess was behind it. And—as much as she hated the politics of it all—she wanted the people to know she was there for them. That she wasn’t some ivory-tower queen, like so many others—that she was real. Actual. Involved. 
Even if, in the day-to-day, she felt more like a figurehead.
At this moment, the door behind her opened, and in stepped Inkwell, her secretary—white coat, black mane, eyeglasses. Impeccably dressed as always.
“Your Highness,” he said with a bow.
Celestia sighed. “I’m… in the middle of something,” she said, half-heartedly. 
Inkwell nodded. “I know. But I thought you might want to know that a messenger’s here to see you.”
She turned. “A messenger? From one of the border kingdoms?”
He shook his head. “No. From the Crystal Empire.”
Celestia’s mouth fell open. The Crystal Empire.
The Equestrian Alliance had spread far and wide; east to the coast, north to the snowy lands of the griffons and the yaks, south to the thick jungles, and west to—well, they were still headed west. Luna was out there now, in fact, wrapping up negotiations with the Desert Confederation. Beyond that, their efforts had failed—not even the most fervent negotiations would convince the yaks to let Celestia or her sister in their gates, or the griffon king to deign to consult with mere grass-munchers. 
But they had heard rumors: an enclave of ponies in the far north, a kingdom of living rock and crystal, oozing with precious stones, a land of eternal summer. The Crystal Empire. Everyone, Celestia included, thought it a legend—even in a land of magic such as theirs, how could such a thing be possible?—but she had sent a scouting party into that snowy waste anyways, bearing an official letter from her. 
She had not expected them to find anything—much less come back with a messenger.
Celestia glanced down again at the debate. It had been more than an hour since she’d been addressed directly, and at least twenty minutes since anyone had glanced her way. They’d be fine without her.
She stood and followed Inkwell out of her little box overlooking the debate floor. As soon as the door closed behind her, Inkwell nodded. “He’s in the Grand Salon, Your Highness,” he said.
“Good.” She started to walk in that direction. “Walk with me, please.”
He hurried after her. As soon as he caught up, she turned to look at him. “Where’s the scouting party now?” she asked. 
“Being debriefed,” he said. “One of them is in the infirmary; seems he had a nasty fall of some kind, twisted an ankle or somesuch.”
Celestia nodded. “Good. I’d like to hear their report after I’ve met this messenger.”
“Very good, Your Highness,” Inkwell said with a nod. 
Another few moments, and they were at the doors to the Grand Salon. Inkwell bowed and stepped away. Celestia took a deep breath, pulled the door open, and stepped inside. 
Celestia almost wished she could still be impressed by the sight; the mid-morning sun shot shafts of light through the great, stained-glass windows, carefully chosen to show the Alliance’s greatest accomplishments—architects, soldiers, and diplomats, each in their own domain, each helping to build something greater than themselves. Around the exterior walls were deep, plush sofas, and sitting cushions lay tastefully scattered on the thick carpet. 
After all, it never hurt to make a good first impression.
For a moment, the room appeared empty. Celestia almost turned to go—but then she saw him. A short, stocky pony, with a dark silver mane and a matching goatee, standing  in the center of the room, examining the windows carefully. And his coat—
Celestia drew in a breath. His coat—a deep magenta, and partially translucent—seemed to reflect and magnify the light from the windows. 
She had thought nothing could surprise her anymore. But this… messenger, was he? … he was a literal crystal pony. A being out of legend.
A being not entirely unlike herself.
Celestia took a step forward, cleared her throat, and bowed. “Welcome to our kingdom,” she said gently, spreading her wings. “I am Princess Celestia. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
The crystal pony turned to face her, and she saw, for the first time, the scowl graven on his face—which only deepened as he examined her. “My name is Andradite,” he said, rather abruptly. “I serve my Lord and Master, His Brilliance King Sombra IV.” He let the name hang there, as if that completed the whole of his message.
Celestia hesitated, then folded her wings and straightened up. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Andradite. You must have had a long journey; please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to eat, or drink, or—?”
“His Brilliance,” Andradite cut in, “finds your proposal of economic partnership and military support most intriguing. He wishes to discuss terms as soon as possible. Are you prepared to come and pay obeisance to him?”
Celestia hesitated. “Pardon my frankness,” she asked, a note of confusion in her voice, “but I feel I don’t understand the question. Please, what are you asking?”
“I am asking,” he replied testily, “if you are ready to accompany me back to the Empire.” 
Her eyes grew wide. “You mean, now?” she asked.
“As soon as possible,” Andradite repeated. 
Celestia froze. He wants me to...? The nerve—!
For a moment, both were silent. Suddenly, Celestia smiled, then bowed again. “I apologize, but such is not possible.” She continued over his slight gasp of alarm. “I am not the sole ruler of my domain, and my sister is away. It will take at least a week to recall her. A meeting of this importance requires the presence of both rulers of our realm, and, as such, I cannot leave until she returns.” She paused, feigning thoughtfulness. “Of course, we will be happy to make you a guest of our hospitality until such time as we can depart.”
She looked up, and saw, to her surprise, frank astonishment on Andradite’s face. “Is… everything alright?” she asked uncertainly.
He stuttered, then spoke. “Y-you, the mythic Alicorn, are not the sole ruler of your domain?”
She shook her head. “No. I share the rule with my sister—also an Alicorn.”
Andradite swallowed. “Then—how do you control of the populace?”
Celestia’s smile froze. “We… we don’t,” she said. “We allow our citizens to do as they please—within reason, at any rate.”
Andradite snorted, and his gruff, impenetrable nature returned. “In any case,” he continued, “His Brilliance requested your immediate presence. He shall not be pleased with this delay.”
Celestia noticed a knot forming in her stomach. “Nor am I. But law and tradition dictate that both of us must be present for dealings of such magnitude,” she lied.
Andradite sniffed. “Very well,” he rumbled. 
Celestia nodded. “I will arrange for a room for you here in the palace,” she said. “Please, make yourself at home.”
Without waiting for a response, Celestia stepped outside—and released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Inkwell,” she called softly, and, immediately, he was at her side. “Arrange for Andradite to stay in the most luxurious suite we have. And make sure his needs—whatever they are—are met. Spare no expense, please.”
Inkwell looked at her over his glasses. “Spare no expense,” he repeated. “Your Highness, if I may—”
“No, you may not.” she replied. “Any other time, yes—but, if even half the stories are true, we can’t risk agitating this messenger any more than we already have. Give him what he wants—and as much of it as he cares for—and, hopefully, this will all work out.” She sighed. “I’ll be in my chambers.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “Your highness, what about the scouts?” 
“Later,” she said. And with that, she stepped away.
The walk to her rooms was not long, but, for the duration, she replayed their conversation over and over in her head. Military aid. Economic assistance. Immediately.
Something was fishy—but, with a kingdom supposedly so large and rich as the Empire was, this was something that the Alliance could not turn its nose up at.
Celestia marched into her room. She grabbed a piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot, then laid down by the fireplace. A few sparks from her horn, and a fire sprung up in the grate—but Celestia was already hard at work on a note. 




Lu,

Sorry to be abrupt, but something’s come up, and I need you back here as soon as you can make it. How are negotiations coming?

Love,
C.



Celestia folded the letter in thirds, then folded down the short edges. Ordinarily, she would seal it, but this was urgent. Without another thought, she pitched it into the fireplace. She sighed, then stood. Now, all there was to do was wait…
Suddenly, the fireplace roared, and a folded piece of parchment shot back out. Celestia caught it with her magic and unfolded it. It was the same parchment she had just sent, with her message at the top. And, underneath it, the ink still drying:



Cece,
Just finished! I’m packing now, and I can head out in the morning.  
Things went well! Signing the final draft tonight, and they’ll be flying the flag within two weeks. 
Everything OK at home?
♡, L



Celestia smiled. She grabbed her quill and scribbled a quick response. 



That’s my little diplomat. Good job!
About today: messenger from the Crystal Empire showed up (seriously). King wants to talk about joining, but is less than patient. I told him we need both of us there, and that you’d be a week.



She hesitated. Should she tell her about her suspicions?
After a moment, she shook her head, then pitched the letter into the fire, not even bothering to fold it. 
The reply came quick. Perhaps Luna was sitting at her fireside, too?



Cece, are you intimidated? ☺ -L

	



Maybe a little. 
He’s
There’s something 
I 
You’ll see when you get here. -C






OK. I’ll hurry. -L

	



	Thanks. -C