7) Nulpar Tour : Day 4, Eyrie
Max’s eyes snapped open and his gaze darted around the tent. It was dimly illuminated by the early morning light, and apart from him and his equipment it was empty. Definitely a dream, then. He tried to relax. His unconscious had definitely been busy last night; it had conjured up a vision of Fragrant who, apparently feeling the cold, begged to enter his tent. Once inside, she had asked to cuddle with him to warm herself, and then one thing had led to another and soon things had gotten very hot indeed.
After a few minutes it was clear he wasn’t going to get any more sleep, so he decided to get up and maybe get a start on breakfast. He’d planned to make it to the Eyrie before nightfall, which shouldn’t be too much of a trek, but still they didn’t have too much time to waste. Pushing his blanket aside, he struggled over to the door and pushed his head through. Outside, the sun was starting its climb up the sky. The weather looked good, there was hardly a cloud in the sky... He blinked. Where was Fragrant’s cloud? A surge of panic flashed through him. Could something have happened to her? Had she left for some reason? Did he talk in his sleep?! Energized, he jumped out of the tent and almost tripped on a guy rope, and began to search the sky. To his relief, he found what he was looking for almost straight away. Fragrant’s bed had drifted a short distance during the night, but he could see her long pink tail hanging down from the cloud only a hundred or so feet away. He gave a sigh of relief, feeling his heart rate slow. Panic averted, he turned back to the tent to see what supplies he had left. There was some of the fruit from last night left, some oats; it was a shame there was no milk but keeping it fresh would have been next to impossible. Dry muesli it was then, not exactly the breakfast of the Princess, but it would keep body and soul together. He quickly mixed together two bowls and trotted over to Fragrant’s cloud.
“Fragrant,” he called gently. He waited a moment then tried again a little louder, “Fragrant!”
“Huh,” came the reply. Fragrant’s bleary-looking face popped over the side of the cloud. “What?” she asked, not sounding or looking very much like a duchess right now; her mane was dishevelled and her coat matted. Max thought she looked adorable.
“It’s time to get up.”
She blinked a bit and then looked up at the sun and back at Max. “Oh, morning.”
“I made breakfast.” He held up one of the bowls.
“Oh, um, thank you. Give me a minute, I’ll just make myself presentable.” She ducked back onto the cloud and there was the sound of some frantic activity. Max waited for rather longer than a minute, noting that the cloud itself seemed to be shrinking a bit. What could she be doing up there? Eventually, Fragrant strode off the cloud and hovered in the air next to it, looking, if not her normal immaculate self, then much better than she had when she first woke up. She had even changed her dress. She shot out a leg and struck the cloud, which instantly became a downpour, causing Max to jump aside to avoid getting wet.
“Oh, sorry,” she said as she floated down to the ground and took the bowl from him. “Thank you.”
The two of them returned to his camp and sat down, eating their breakfast in silence. Max considered apologizing for last night, but Fragrant didn’t seem interested in bringing the matter up, so he decided to likewise keep quiet. After they had finished eating, Max visited a nearby stream to quickly wash himself and the breakfast things before packing up his gear and loading it back onto himself. “Our next stop is the Eyrie,” he announced, pointing at a mountain range rising in the distance.
“That’s an unusual name,” said Fragrant.
“It’s a mostly griffon township. A group of exiles from the Kingdoms founded it almost a century ago now. They used to keep to themselves, but the latest mayor, Southern Breeze, has been trying to set up more trade links with the other settlements. I think you’ll like her.”
“I see,” muttered Fragrant, looking up at the mountains. “Are there many other settlement in the area?”
“No, there might be the odd hamlet about, but I don’t think there’s anything of any size for a day’s trot, maybe more.” He pointed up at the peaks. “We call those the Broken Backs. They stretch through most of Nulpar. It’s pretty hard going around here, not much good growing land or much in the way of resources. It’s a wonder the Eyrie survives, really, but I guess they’re all too stubborn to move.”
Fragrant nodded. Cloudsdale had an expatriate griffon community and she’d had to deal with the griffon Kingdoms of occasion as well; she knew how obstinate the large predators could be. “I guess we should be on our way then. It looks like it will be a long journey.”
“Yes,” agreed Max. “Although if we make good speed we should get there before sun down. Getting up there might be a bit of a problem, it’s quite a climb to the town itself. It’s on top of a mountain.”
“I might be able to help,” said Fragrant, a little unsurely. Max was quite heavy and that was without his luggage, and she wasn’t that strong a flyer. Still, that was something to worry about when they got there. Maybe the locals could help.
“We’ll see,” said Max, folding up his map.
As Max had predicted, the path he and Fragrant took towards the Broken Backs was desolate. The only ponies they met on the way was a small family of tinkers coming the other way. The mother and father were quite friendly, and their older daughter seemed very taken with Fragrant’s dress; the younger filly seemed ecstatic to have somepony to talk to. While the two groups stopped to take cover for midday and share their food, the filly insisted she get to explain every one of the family’s goods to the strangers, from the most ordinary horseshoe to the most exquisite jewellery. While she was showing Fragrant her wares, her parents explained to Max that they had just been trading with the Eyrie and were now heading towards Neighagra.
Eventually the two parties said their goodbyes and set off in opposite directions. Fragrant had gained a rather attractive, if overpriced, shawl which she wrapped around her head, and Max had made a rather good deal on some maps of the northern parts of the province which he hoped might be more up to date that his own.
The two nobles chatted quietly as they slowly approached the distant mountains. Fragrant could sense that Max was troubled by something that he wasn’t talking about, and made several attempts to draw out whatever was bothering him without success. Likewise, although she had come to Nulpar to talk to Max about Notebook and Wallflower’s behaviour, she found it impossible to broach the subject. Now that she was here, it seemed wrong to drag Max into her own problems when he apparently had his own.
“Here we are,” exclaimed Max, looking at the almost sheer wall of rock a short distance away.
Fragrant glanced up at it. It certainly was intimidating; not as tall as the Canterhorn, but still a mountain. Both her wings and hooves ached after a full day’s travel; she did what she could to keep fit, but today had been rather more exercise than she was used to. She wasn’t entirely sure she could make her own way to the top, much less try to carry Max there as well. “How are we going to get there?” she asked.
“Climb, of course!” exclaimed Max with a gleam in his eye as he trotted closer to the mountain.
Fragrant didn’t feel convinced, although she was sure Max was a strong climber – it was his talent, after all. But it was already late in the afternoon and she was sure even the best mountaineer in Equestria wouldn’t be keen on making the ascent in the dark. “Max, maybe we should...” she began before she was interrupted by a cry.
“Hey! They finished it!”
Frowning, Fragrant joined Max at the rock face and found to her surprise a large wooden cage, maybe large enough for a dozen ponies or a mid-sized cart, with thick ropes stretched up into the sky. “What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a lift! Southern said she was going to build it, but I didn’t believe her,” he shook the side of the cage with a hoof. “Seems strong enough.”
Fragrant wasn’t so sure and examined the device critically. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked, but Max had already entered the cage and was examining it.
“Come on, get in!” he cried, gripping a rope with his teeth.
Fragrant wanted to suggest she follow on the outside of the cage, but Max seemed keen on trying the death-trap. She gingerly entered the cage and swallowed hard as Max shut the door and tied it shut. Now there was no way out if the thing came crashing down. He yanked a rope hard a few times, then let it go. “Now we just have to wait for them to start to pull it up. Could take a while.”
A few minutes crawled past, and Max tried the rope again. “Maybe we should...” started Fragrant, only to be interrupted as with a jolt the cage started to jerkily ascend into the air. She gave a rather unladylike yell and tried to stay on her hooves. Max leaned heavily against the wall of the cage, which started to sway slightly. Feeling rather sick, Fragrant tried to keep her eyes on her companion rather than watch the jagged rocks of the spire as they slowly moved past.
“You see, it’s not easy to get goods up to the Eyrie,” explained Max calmly. “The griffons can lift a fair bit, but not a whole wagon, and it’s not really possible for most ponies to get to the top, apart from pegasi of course. So Southern said she was going to build a lift to allow caravans to get up there. It’s not quite as big as she planned, but still, it’s very impressive.”
Yes, impressive, thought Fragrant, as she heard the cage produce a groaning sound and thought she felt the floor drop slightly.
All too soon, in Max’s opinion, the lift approached the Eyrie itself. Perched on top of the mountain as it was, it was amazing how quickly the lift could ascend; he guessed it would be slower if it held a whole wagon rather than just two ponies. “I think you’ll like the Eyrie,” he said to Fragrant, who had a hoof wrapped around one of the supports and looked even paler than her normal light yellow. “Southern and her ancestors have done a lot with it since they arrived. It was just a barren rock when they first arrived, but it’s a thriving settlement now.” Suddenly the cage gave a shudder, which caused Fragrant to instinctively throw a wing around Max. At the same time, the top of the mountain came into sight. There was a wide plank with railings along it, linking the cage to the mountain itself, and beyond that a pair of windlasses, each powered by two griffon or ponies. As she watched, they halted as the cage stopped moving and slumped against their equipment, panting slightly. Feeling embarrassed, Fragrant blushed as she unlocked herself from Max. The earth pony opened the cage and was about to step out when Fragrant – a little rudely, he thought – rushed past him. Upon exiting the cage, she spread her wings and stretched for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief before realising where she was and taking up a more modest stance. With a grin, Max followed her out.
“Max!” came a cry from behind the windlasses, and suddenly he found himself buried in a mass of fur and feathers. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
“Nice to see you too, Southern,” he replied, sounding rather muffled from the over-enthusiastic griffoness wrapped around him. She wasn’t actually that large for a griffon, but she still towered over Max, the white feathers of her head and wings in sharp contrast the dark brown, almost black coat of her leonine half.
“How are you!” she replied, partially releasing her grip. “I haven't seen you in months, since you headed off to Canterlot! Have they kicked you out already?”
“Court’s closed for the summer, so I thought I’d try to visit the important settlements.”
“And you thought of us first?” said Southern, giving Max another hug. “That’s sweet of you.”
“Well not exactly first, but you were near the top of the list.”
“Baron Max,” said Fragrant with a cough. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” She sounded a little stiff.
“Oh, right. Duchess Fragrant Posey, this is Talon Master Bloodstrike, or Southern Breeze as she prefers to go by. Southern, this is Duchess Fragrant Posey, minister of weather, she’s here to look into Nulpar’s weather provision.”
“A duchess? You certainly shoot high, don’t you, Max? Nice to meet you,” said Southern, turning to Fragrant and giving a short bow.
“The pleasure is mine,” replied Fragrant, copying the gesture. “You know my colleague Baron Max well?”
“Colleague, right?” She gave a wink. “I visit Sadlzburg when I can. We used to bounce ideas about modernization off each other. So, now that you’re a big wig, can you...”
“Mutter!” came a pair high pitched cries, as a large griffon swooped in to land. On his back clung two small griffon chicks, who let out the cry again.
“Hey kids!” cried Southern, opening her beak in a smile. “You remember your uncle Max, right?”
One of the chicks hopped off the larger griffon and quickly approached, while the other nervously burrowed its way into its father’s plumage. “I’d be surprised if they did,” said Max, kneeling to look at the bolder child. “What are they now, one and a half?”
“Almost two, and a talon full,” said Southern with pride.
“They’ve really grown,” said Max, rummaging in his bags for a moment before removing a pair of brightly coloured wooden figures – one a yellow pegasus, the other a light green earth pony. “I got them these from Canterlot.” He held the earth pony out to the approaching filly. She examined it for a moment before snatching it with a tiny talon and pecked at it with her beak. “There you go, Gentle.” He held out the other towards the more cautious chick, who was carefully approaching under the gaze of his father, “And for you, Gusty.” The colt reached out for the toy, only for it to be snatched away by his sister who gave an angry hiss, causing her brother to back away head lowered.
“Now, play nicely with your brother,” cautioned Gunter, the twins’ father. Gentle held up a talon rebelliously for a moment, before giving up and pushing the pegasus toy back towards her brother. He carefully picked it up and turned it around a few times in his grasp, as if trying to figure out what it was. He glanced between it and Fragrant for a moment before giving an excited squeak.
“Thanks, Max,” said Southern.
“That’s alright. I’m afraid I can’t stay more than the night, but I’m sure we can get some time to talk and maybe chat with some of your people. Is there any way you can get them together?”
“You’re joking right?” she paused for a moment. “You really don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?” asked Max, frowning.
“The wedding? Western’s finally tying the knot with Glide Path.”
“They finally got round to it? What brought that on?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Southern. “If she’s gotten knocked up, she hasn’t told me.”
Fragrant was standing politely to one side, looking a little lost. “Western is Southern’s younger sister,” he explained. “She’s been dating Glide Path for, well, as long as I can remember. I guess he finally decided to make an honest griffon of her.”
“Ah, herzlichen glückwunsch,” said Fragrant.
“Sie sprechen Griffish?” asked Southern in surprise.
“Some, my city has a substantial griffon minority. I hope your sister’s special day goes well.”
“You can both come you, know,” said Southern, turning to Max. “I sent you an invitation, I thought that was why you were here.”
“Sorry, I didn’t get it, but I’d be honoured to take part.”
“Good.” She put a wing around each of the two ponies. “The ceremony’s not until midnight, so I can show the Duchess around and then you can both get ready.”
Fragrant was rather impressed by the tour of the town; it was of rather unique construction. The Eyrie was built onto a plateau at the top of the mountain, and in the centre stood the block-like shape of a griffon fort, although it appeared to be in rather poor repair. Few ponies or griffons still lived within it, but it was used as a public building and storehouse for the community. Although it was also a potential shelter if the town were ever to be attacked.
Southern sounded a little embarrassed as she explained that this was the oldest part of the town, built when the city was first founded by griffon exiles. Driven from their own homes, they had fled south until they were well outside of the Kingdoms and had built their home for protection. There they had remained for almost a generation, interacting only rarely with their new neighbours who were themselves rather fearful of the new arrivals. The new settlement, cut off from support and in unfamiliar environments, had fared poorly, and it had looked likely the exiles would die out in the strange land they had found themselves.
It had not been until twenty years after its foundation before the population led by Southern’s grandfather had finally reached out for aid. It had come in the form of a small nomadic tribe of pegasi living in the nearby mountains. The two groups, after some teething troubles, had managed to work together surprisingly well, and the population had begun to boom, resulting in a rather chaotic mix of buildings in both Equestrian and griffon styles which filled most of the available area now. There were even a small number of cloud houses floating above the town, although these were of a blockier, more primitive style than those Fragrant was familiar with in Cloudsdale.
The town’s culture seemed to be an odd mix of equestrian and griffon as well. Fragrant noticed that several ponies were armed with knives or hoofguards that ended in blades like a griffon’s talons. As they passed, a griffon and pegasus broke into a brief wrestling match. Max looked a little perturbed, but Southern seemed blasé, so Fragrant tried to ignore it. As quickly as it had started, the scuffle ended and the two combatants wandered off, slapping each other on the back.
The settlement was mostly fed from an expanse of fields on the opposite side of the mountain, although it still needed to import supplies from other towns such as Salzberg. In exchange, the Eyrie bartered some metal implements created from iron mined in the mountains and forged by the local blacksmiths, the griffons’ dexterous claws allowing them to create small objects better than most ponies. Southern explained that if the population continued to grow at its current rate, then they’d run out of space on the mountain itself and would either need to try and build out in the manner of Canterlot, or, more realistically, have to start building at the bottom of the mountain. The newly constructed lift was the first step on such a move.
By the time the tour and Southern’s lecture was finished, Fragrant found herself rather in awe of the griffon’s vision for her people and settlement. Even more than Max, she seemed to have a dream of the future of her piece of Nulpar, which stretched far from the present. It did seem a little grandiose for the current situation, but at least it was there. She couldn’t help compare her own situation. What had she really tried to achieve in the last decade? Cloud exports had taken up much of her last year alone and that was a comparatively small relaxation of current rules. Should she be thinking larger? A significant change to Cloudsdale? She would need to put her mind to it when she had the time.
“Jangle for your thoughts?” said Max.
“Oh, sorry?” said Fragrant as she was dragged from her musings.
“Sorry if my little town isn’t very interesting to you, duchess!” said Southern huffily.
“No, sorry, it is very interesting. I was just thinking about your plans. They are most impressive.”
“Thanks. I didn’t think we’d ever get the lift working, but Gilbert turned out to be very handy with a block and tackle.”
“Gilbert?” asked Max.
“He’s a distant relative of mine from the Kingdoms, turned up about three months ago. He was looking into his family tree and found out that our ancestors had made their way down here, so he decided to look us up. Very handy really, we don’t get many visitors.”
“Yes, very,” said Fragrant, something about the timing of the arrival struck her as odd, she was sure she’d been told something about this place about three months ago. She had an inkling that there might be more to this Gilbert than Southern knew. “I think I’d like to talk to him.”
“Well, he should be at the wedding,” said Southern, looking up at the sky where the moon was quickly rising. “Huh, later than I thought. It’s not long till the ceremony. I better head home and tuck in Gentle and Gusty and make sure my sister hasn’t got cold wings and tried to fly back to the Kingdoms.” She grinned. “I’ll ask around, I’m sure I can find someone with a little space for you two to freshen up in, and give you a bed for tonight.”
“Thank you, Talon Master,” said Fragrant. “Your courtesy is appreciated.”
“You really don’t need to,” said Max. “We’ll be fine.”
“You say that, but I don’t want you stinking up the place, Max,” said Southern. “You could do with a wash.”
Max scowled a little and then surreptitiously sniffed himself, causing Fragrant to try to hide a little giggle.
Max had to admit, he did feel better after getting cleaned up. Southern had managed to arrange for him to stay with one of the griffon families living near the edge of the town. It had been a little awkward getting ready for the ceremony alongside the larger creatures, but he’d settled in quickly enough. His host was a watchmaker, one of the few in Nulpar, and had given him a lecture on his craft; it went almost entirely over Max’s head, but he was sure it would have been very informative if he had understood it. Once he had washed and packed away his gear, he had bid his host farewell and gone to look for Fragrant. She had been housed in one of the cloud buildings that slowly orbited above the town. He waited patiently below the one she was staying in. Well, he hoped it was the right one. They all looked the same to him. He expected he might be here for a while; in his somewhat limited experience mares normally took quite a while to get ready, and Fragrant certainly seemed fastidious about her appearance. He was right, and waited for almost half an hour before she left the floating building, but she made it worthwhile. She stepped from the cloud building clad in a glittering green dress and had somehow found the time to style her mane so that it was platted on top of her head. As she swooped down towards him, wings spread wide, she was illuminated by the moon, causing Max’s mouth to drop.
“Ah, baron,” she said as she gracefully landed next to him and folded her wings away. “I hope you were not waiting long?”
“Um, errr,” mumbled Max, still struck dumb. Fragrant smiled.
“Good. We should set off, we would not want to be late.”
“Well, yes, of course. You... you look really good.”
“Thank you, baron. You have cleaned up well yourself.”
Max self-consciously smoothed his mane down. He hadn’t actually packed any clothes for the trip – it hadn’t occurred to him that any would be needed – but luckily Southern had found a pony who had been willing to lend him his wedding suit. It was a little large, but more or less fit. “Thank you, but I don’t know if they’ll let you into the wedding.”
“Why ever not?” asked Fragrant with a frown.
“Well, I don’t think you’re allowed to look better than the bride.”
Fragrant blushed a little. “I am sure all eyes will be on her for her special day,” she said, starting off towards the fort where the wedding was being held.
I don’t think mine will be, thought Max.
The wedding was being held on the roof of the fort at the centre of Eyrie; it seemed to be the largest open area in the rather ramshackle town. Several long benches had been set up in a number of concentric semicircles with an empty walkway leading to the front, apparently positioned to face the moon as it made its way across the sky. By the time Max and Fragrant had made their way there, the place was almost full. Fragrant found herself a little nervous given the number of griffons around; it seemed like most of the community were present. She was surprised by the number of ponies present as well. Pegasi filled up maybe a quarter of the seats, intermingled with the larger griffons and chatting in a mix of Equestrian and Griffon that Fragrant found hard to follow. There were also a number of hippogriffs and even a smattering of earth-bound ponies amongst the crowd. Max and Fragrant herself had found a space free near the back of the gathering.
“I went to Southern’s wedding, you know,” said Max as they sat down. “Griffon weddings can be a little different from pony ones.”
“I was part of the Equestria delegation to King Gruber Kraus’s wedding, actually. Although I suspect this wedding might be a little different,” said Fragrant. “Smaller, anyway.”
“Really, what was it like?”
“It was a suitably grand event, but it seemed somewhat soulless. The union was for political reasons. This one seems more lively.”
“There you are,” said Southern, pushing through the crowds. “Why don’t you sit up front with me? I’m sure we can make room.” She gestured to the front bench, which already seemed packed.
“That’s alright,” said Max. “This is your sister’s day, she hardly knows me, better her friends and family be closer.”
“Well, if you’re sure...”
“I agree, it would not be proper for us to be at the front of the ceremony. We are perfectly happy to be back here,” said Fragrant.
“I’m sure you are,” said Southern, giving a wink. “Ok then, but would you like to be part of the ceremony?”
“Oh, well, I suppose so. It would be an honour,” said Max. He hadn’t been asked to do anything at Southern’s wedding. “What do we have to do?”
“When the couple walk back up the aisle, Max, you stand on the right, and duchess, you on the left. As they pass, say ‘Wie Sie, so das wir sein wollen.’ Got that?”
Max looked bemused. “Um, Wie see, so ras vir sein vollen?”
“Close enough. Just make sure you’re looking at each other when you say it. Very important, that.”
“What does it mean?”
“It’s sort of a blessing, bonds the couple together, good luck, that sort of thing,” said Southern vaguely. At the front of the gathering, an ancient griffon was making her way to the centre of the throng, helped by two younger griffonesses. “Whoops, I better get in place. It was hard enough to get the old bird to agree to officiate, given her burning hatred of me and all I stand for – I don’t want to annoy her any more. Talk to you later.” She leapt into the air and swooped down to the front, taking a place next to her husband.
“What did she mean about burning hatred?” asked Fragrant, frowning.
“I don’t think it’s that bad, but there are some griffons who aren't so happy about Southern’s modernisation plan.” He guessed every town had its own Honey Bun. “A few aren't even happy they accepted the pegasi in, even though that was ages ago.”
Fragrant nodded. “I can certainly see that her plans would not be universally accepted. Wie Sie, so dass wir sein wollen,” she mumbled. “It’s something about them wanting to be like us, or us like them, I think.”
“Did they do anything like that at the king’s wedding?” asked Max.
“I think so. Various nobles were lined up after the wedding. I don’t recall what was said.”
Before Max could reply, a band – making up for its small numbers with volume – started playing off to one side. At the back of the area, a short brown-coated pegasus stallion with a long bright yellow mane and wearing a rather poorly fitting suit trotted up the stairs from the fort itself, a large paper-wrapped package resting over his back. Sweating profusely and looking a little sick, he quickly made his way to the front of the gathering and bowed deeply to the old griffon. Fragrant was a little shocked to find the groom was a pony; she supposed it made sense and explained the hippogriffs present, but such mixed marriages weren't that common in her city.
“Ich Glide Path Weg hier gekämpft haben, um die Kralle Western Breeze nehmen, um meine Frau und meine Küken tragen.” He proclaimed in perfect Griffish.
The old griffon looked at him a little dubiously. “Können Sie beweisen, können Sie für sich und Ihre Küken stellen?” she said.
“Yes,” he replied, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a large smoked fish almost the size of a foal, which he presented to his inquisitor.
The old bird bent forwards and tore off a large chunk of the fish, chewing it thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and nodding. “Acceptable.”
So far it was much the same as the previous griffon wedding she had been to, thought Fragrant. Rather smaller, though; the fish at King Kraus’s wedding had been bigger than he was.
“Talon Master,” intoned the old griffon. “Do you accept Glide Path’s petition to marry?”
Southern stood tall at the front of the congregation. “Well, he is a bit scrawny, but Western seems to like him for some reason, so why not?” she said with a shrug. The old griffon glared at Southern, who sighed. “The Bloodstrike accepts Glide Path’s petition to marry. Let any who disagree challenge me now!”
Fragrant held her breath for a moment. At Kraus’ wedding, the challenge had been accepted, and the king had duelled with the challenger. The Equestrian ambassador had explained that the fight had been scripted to show the king at his best, but to Fragrant’s eyes, it had seemed very real.
There was a moment’s silence, then the sound of hooves and talons on stone was heard from the back of the gathering. Looking back, Fragrant saw a griffoness clad in a loose sky blue dress and crowned by a garland of flowers enter up the stairs. Before her walked a pegasus mare, and surrounding her were a quartet of ladies; two griffons, a hippogriff and a pegasus, each wearing similar, if less flattering dresses. She recognised the tradition, although in a more traditional griffon wedding the groomsmen were present to prevent the bride from being kidnapped – or, in very traditional weddings, from escaping – however, having female attendants was unknown in griffon society. Were they some adaption of the pony tradition of best mare or mares of honour? The procession made its way down the aisle and stopped at the front, opening up to allow the bride past. The bride and groom looked at each other for a moment; the groom looked quite shocked with his mouth hanging open, while the bride looked aside bashfully. The ancient griffon loudly cleared her throat to get their attention before speaking again.
“We are gathered here at this time of change, as one day becomes the next.” She gestured up at the moon shining full in the sky above. “To join these two in matrimony so that their previous lives apart can end and their life together can start. This is no decision to make lightly...” She paused for a moment to allow the words to sink in. “Do both of you, pony and griffon, agree in the light of the moon to your union?”
The bride held out a wing, and the groom held out his own so their feathers overlapped. “We do,” they chorused, smiling at each other. Fragrant frowned. This was more like a pony wedding now, but it was still different to most.
“Do you, Western Breeze, sister of the Talon Master, daughter of Bloodstrike, agree to wed Glide Path? To love, protect and cherish him until the end?”
“I... I do,” she replied, her voice wavering a little.
“Do you, Glide Path, son of Landing Strip, agree to wed Western Breeze? To love, protect and cherish her until the end?”
“I do,” he replied loudly.
“The strength of their commitment is clear, the power of their love undeniable. By the light of the moon and by these tokens...” She paused as a best mare passed the couple two rather bland copper bracelets, which they clipped onto their forelegs. “I now pronounce you griffoness and colt. You may kiss,” she said with a touch of disdain then stood back as Western knelt down to allow her husband to embrace and kiss her. Next to them, Southern was wiping tears from her eyes. Fragrance heard Max make a quiet ‘dawww’ sound. She turned to him and he stood up straight, trying to seem every bit the strong emotionless stallion. She grinned and gently leaned her head against him.
“It’s almost our bit,” she whispered. Indeed, various couples were starting to slide out of the benches and take their places at each side of the aisle. Those nearest the front tended to be older, although Southern and Gunter were at the very front; nearer the back, younger couples took their place. In fact, a pair of barely adult griffons stood nearby until they were yanked out of the line by their parents. Fragrant stood where she had been instructed, looking at Max opposite her and trying to remember her line. The newlyweds started to slowly walk down the line, stopping at each couple for a moment.
“Da wir so sind Sie jetzt!” chorused Southern and Gunter as the couple passed, and for a moment Fragrant worried that she had misremembered her line, but although the next couple, and even the one after, repeated the same thing, the couples further down the line switched to the script she had been given. Finally the mismatched pair arrived in front of Max and Fragrant.
“Wie Sie, so das wir sein wollen,” said Fragrant, staring Max in the eye and fighting against her instinct to look shyly away.
“Wie Sie, so das wir sein wollen,” he replied with a smile as the bride and groom passed and made their way down into the fort. To his surprise, many of the couples ahead of them embraced, one or two kissing quite passionately. He blinked and Fragrant looked equally puzzled. He shrugged. They must have just been overwhelmed by the romance of the moment.
“Good!” cried Southern from the front, “Now that that’s over, we can eat!”
To Fragrant’s surprise, the reception took place in the same place as the wedding. The whole crowd worked together, and in only a few minutes had converted the area into a dining room; tables were set up in front of the benches and food was brought in and laid out. This time Southern wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she and Max found themselves on the main table next to the mayor and not far from the bride and groom themselves. This had the unfortunate side effect of putting them near the large fish the groom had provided. Fragrant had been in a similar position at the royal wedding, although she thought that was more likely to have been a calculated insult rather than happenstance. Max was trying to hide his revulsion, but as always he wore his heart on his sleeve. She was not fond of a meat diet herself, but she recognised that it was a necessity for griffons and hid her dislike better than he did. She was a little surprised that almost all the ponies present were tucking into the meal alongside their predator neighbours, although with somewhat smaller portions. She even saw what she thought were roasted rabbits in the buffet and decided to distract Max from them.
“It’s considered good luck to eat from the wedding fish, you know,” she said.
“I don’t think I can stomach it,” admitted Max.
“He couldn’t at my wedding,” said Southern. “He ended up blowing chunks and he didn’t even eat any of it first.”
“I think the hay might have been damp,” said Max weakly.
“Well, I certainly wish your sister good fortune,” said Fragrant, taking a small portion of the fish and nibbling at it. Max looked away. “You know, you should try at least some. As a noble, you should make sacrifices for your people, and get used to their culture.” She took a fork in her mouth and held out a piece of fish on the end. “Please, for me?”
Not looking convinced, Max slowly moved forwards with his eyes closed and bit into the flesh on the fork. He grimaced and chewed quickly before swallowing. He gave a heave but seemed to be able to keep the morsel down.
“Good!” said Southern with a grin. “Now, for being a good colt, you can have cake!” She revealed a plate piled high with a gooey chocolate sponge. Max’s eyes shone.
“Did Gunter make that himself?” he asked, reaching for the plate.
“Of course.” She turned to Fragrant as Max started on the cake with a groan of pleasure. “It’s really good. You know what they say, the way to a griffoness’ heart is through her stomach. And he certainly found my heart.” She smiled fondly over towards her husband, who was talking with some other guests. “You should try some, duchess.”
Fragrant leaned over and took a small bite of Max’s cake. Her eyes widened and she took a larger bite. “This is wonderful!” she said, forgetting herself and spitting crumbs towards her host. “This chocolate!” Max grinned at her reaction and, although he looked a little forlorn, he pushed the remaining cake over to Fragrant, who continued to devour it.
“It’s not easy to get out here, although it was harder for Glide to get the fish,” said Southern. “There aren't any good fishing spots near here, well, not for anything that big. You need to go to Neighagra and you know what Barrel thinks of griffons!”
Fragrant looked up from the cake long enough to frown.
“He’s not a fan,” said Max.
“He’s a bigot. I don’t know why, you’d think we ate his mother or something. Anyway, either he overcharges or he down right refuses to trade. We had to sneak this one out via a third party. Hey, now that you’re in charge, can’t you tell him to knock it off, Max?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try to speak to him, at least.”
“Good.” She lowered her voice a little, suddenly serious. “There are a few hotheads here willing to take the issue seriously. I’ve got a handle on it for the moment, but you never know.”
Max nodded. He didn’t know it was that big an issue. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good,” said Western, smiling again. “Hey, Gilbert,” she cried over to a rather handsome griffon chatting with some ponies at another table. “Get over here and meet Max and Duchess Posey. This is Gilbert, the guy from the Kingdoms I told you about, my cousin or something.”
“We are rather more distantly related than that,” the newcomer admitted.
“Yeah, well, you’ve been a big help around here. I hope you can stick around.”
“For a while, although I will have to return home eventually.”
Fragrant looked up from her now empty plate and frowned. She had suspicions about where Gilbert would be returning to. “How are things in the Kingdoms currently, Mr Gilbert?” she asked.
“Well, there’s some tension between the outer and inner Kingdoms, but I hope it will blow over. I’ve heard a troop of border guard have more or less mutinied – they’re hunting down bandits rather than doing their real job. It’s got their leader, Gwendolyn, quite a bit of support from the outer Kingdoms.”
“Really? I would love to hear more,” said Fragrant.
“Hey, Max, while these two chat, would you like to talk to Dusty and his people? They’ve got some things to ask you about trying to apply for farming subsidies,” interrupted Southern.
“Sure,” said Max, glancing at Fragrant for a moment.
“I should be fine talking to Mr. Gilbert,” she confirmed. Max nodded and headed off with Southern. “Now, Mr. Gilbert...” she continued, her tone becoming more aggressive. She hoped she was right about who he was; of course, if he was good at his job, she would probably not know. “It was very fortunate that you turned up at the right time for this little town. Three months ago, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, well, I’d been planning the trip for quite a while, but I kept putting it off. I wasn’t sure they’d accept me here, but they’ve been very friendly.” If he was nervous, he didn’t show it.
“You know, it was about that long ago that a colleague of mine, Archduke Bobbing Fisher, learned of this place. He was worried it might be full of spies for the Kingdoms.”
“You can’t think I’m a spy for the griffons? I’m just an engineer at home, I don’t even have anything to do with any of the royalty!”
“No, I don’t think you are a spy for the griffons.” She looked down for a moment, then back up again. “I think you are a spy for the ponies! You see, I know that one of my frien...” She paused. “...my colleagues, Vicereine Wallflower, stopped Fisher from sending anypony to investigate, and she herself sent her own agents instead. She is, as I have recently found out, not very trusting. I am sure she had Equestria’s best interests in heart, but it is very unpleasant to find out that a friend, even someone who claimed to be a member of your family, is not who they seem to be!”
“I’m sorry, duchess, but that sounds very paranoid to me.” He glanced around nervously.
“Yes it does, but unfortunately for ponies in my line of work, paranoia is often the best policy.” Except for Max, she thought. Maybe she had to be paranoid so he didn’t. The thought made her eyes mist a little. “I think it would be best if you cut your meeting short and reported back to your superiors that there is nothing untoward going on here, don’t you?”
The griffon blinked at her for a moment, then opened his beak to speak. “Everything going on alright?” asked Max as he returned, interrupting whatever Gilbert was going to say.
“Oh, yes, everything’s fine,” said the griffon, glancing back to Fragrant.
“Yes, we have just finished our chat. It was most informative,” she said.
“Yes, I think I should take my leave now. I think I need to talk to Bloodstrike about something.” He gave both ponies a quick bow and hurried off.
It was odd, thought Fragrant. She had been to weddings of dozens of traditions and maybe half a dozen species, but almost all of them involved the newlywed couple dancing together in front of the guests. The style varied from the formal in Zaldia to the more wild dances of lower class Equestrians, but dancing together was almost always part of the ceremony. She supposed it was the best way to show the new couple acting as one. She felt a warmth against her flank and realised she and Max were leaning into each other heavily, and she couldn’t really blame the wine – she had only had one glass. She really should sit up, ponies might talk, but it did seem like an awful lot of effort.
Southern and Gunter were sitting next to them, beaks gently duelling. The Talon Master turned away from her husband to talk. “I’m glad the two of you were such good sports about the ceremony.”
“I was honoured to be invited,” said Fragrant, sitting upright. She felt as if something was pulling her back towards Max, but she fought against it.
“I meant the joining at the end.”
“The joining?” asked Max.
“You know ‘Wie Sie, so dass wir sein wollen’ and all that.”
“What was that, you said it was something to do with good luck.”
“Well, sort of. It means ‘as you are, so we want to be.’ It’s sort of an engagement thingy. The more important the griffon getting married, the more lucky it considered for the new couple.”
“Engagement!” cried Fragrant, struggling to keep her voice down.
“Huh!” exclaimed Max, apparently stunned.
“It doesn’t really mean anything, it’s not like its legally binding or anything,” said Southern, grinning. “I saw the two of you and just thought, what the heck.”
“That is... why... we are just colleagues!” protested Fragrant.
“Sure you are,” said Southern, pointing down at Max and Fragrant’s tails, which had somehow become intertwined. Fragrant gave a tug, and her luxurious appendage detached itself from Max’s much shorter one. His style, although apparently normal for Nulpar, was actually bordering on the obscene by Canterlot standards. She had meant to mention it to him once or twice, but she had always gotten distracted.
“Well... we...”
“Fragrant, no one cares,” said Max, gesturing at the crowd around them who were starting to take their own places on the dance floor. “No one knows you here, and they only know me as a pony who visits once in a blue moon. There are no press; gossip mongers maybe, but no press here.” He rested a leg over her. “We’re together,” he confirmed to Southern, “but not for long so far. Engagement might be a bit early.”
“Ok, sorry, but you two just look so cute, I couldn’t resist. It was just a bit of fun.”
Fragrant found she could bring herself to speak again she shrugged off Max’s leg. “I think that ‘jest’ was in rather poor taste,” she said icily.
“Look, I said I was sorry...” began Southern.
“It is late and Baron Max and myself have a long journey tomorrow. I think I will retire for the night,” said Fragrant, cutting her off. She stood up, pulling away from Max. “Good night, Talon Master.” She leapt into the air and was off.
“Fragrant!” called Max as she left.
“I’m sorry, Max,” apologised Southern. “It was just a joke, I didn’t think...”
“I know, but Fragrant, there’s something up with her. Look, I better go talk to her.” He rushed off after the fleeing pegasus.
“Sorry!” called Southern again.
Galloping through the town, Max finally caught up with Fragrant as she was about to enter the cloud building she had been billeted in. “Fragrant!” he called loudly. She turned and looked down at him. “Don’t you think you overreacted a bit there?”
She looked like she was going to argue for a moment, then deflated somewhat. “Maybe, I... I do not like others prying into my business, or knowing about my private life. It is private.”
“I know,” said Max, sitting down and looking up at the pegasus above him. “But Southern didn’t mean anything by it. She saw two ponies in love and just wanted to help.”
Fragrant seemed a little shocked by his words. “I... well...” She sighed. “I may well have overreacted. I should apologize.”
“No, she was in the wrong, but don’t hold it against her. She’s always been a prankster. Is being engaged to me really that bad?”
“No,” she said, then blinked. “I mean, we hardly know each other, it is far too early for betrothal. I do like you, Max, but that is rather quick.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s nice to think about, right?”
“Yes,” She paused. “Should we go back to the party?” she asked.
“I think you were right, we do have a long day ahead of us and sun will be up in a few hours. We’ll probably be late heading out anyway. Best to try and get some sleep. Goodnight, Fragrant.” He turned away to find his own dwelling.
Fragrant paused and fidgeted for a moment, then called out as she swooped down to the ground. “Max.” He turned back and she kissed him on his cheek. “Goodnight. I did have a lovely time.” With that, she was gone again, back up to the cloud house and leaving him stunned, holding a hoof to his face for several minutes.
Thanks to Thatguyvex for his suggestions about Griffin culture and as always to Rainbowdoubledash, Moonchild and Grass and Clouds 2 for their help.
Comments are greatly appreciated.
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I rely like the visit to the Griffin settlement. the descriptions of the community and the rituals was great. I was wandering how such a place would look like and how ponies who live in it would behave in such a place.
I'm glad that we're finally seeing the Eyrie, I've been curious about the gryphons of Nulpar since we first heard about them.
Man, this visit isn't going quite as smoothly as Fragrant planned. Come on guys, share your problems with each other. It'll probably help.
That just sounds dangerous. I hope they have spotters on hand in case anything goes wrong. To, I dunno, find the corpses or something.
Hah!
A gryphon wedding, I'm sure that'll be exciting.
Now that's just suspicious.
All things considered, that's a safe way to react. Plus, if you've been struck dumb there's less chance of saying something actually dumb.
Google gives an interesting translation for ‘Wie Sie, so das wir sein wollen.’, makes me wonder what Southern is up to and what she knows.
So it's a gryphon/pony marriage? Interesting.
That sounds like some mighty good cake.
Yeah, figures that the new guy is a spy for someone. I bet Fragrant is right on the money.
Hahaha, yup that was the exact translation I found for it. I suppose it isn't a surprise that Fragrant wasn't precisely happy about it.
Talon Master Bloodstrike should be Talon Mistress Bloodstrike.
5881751
I'm working on the idea that the Griffin term is a sexless one and it was translated into the masculine but no one bothered to change to based on the current owner.
Talon Master Bloodstrike is such a... Liefeldian name I think I spontaneously sprouted a bandoleer of tiny pouches along my calves. :D
Anyway... what is up with Fragrant? Curious, here. Also, I love the wedding.
I imagine it gets a lot of use as a weather-shelter, too; though then again with so many griffins and pegasi the Eyrie probably doesn't have to worry too much about that.
"Stay away from quantum physics, you'll end up naked and blue."
"I'm naked a lot anyway."
"Well, you'll end up blue."