The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi

Your Hour Approaches

An irregular, rhythmless, stylishly chaotic knock sounded against a sterile door. "Go away," a despondent voice called from within. "I told them I'm not seeing visitors."

The door opened anyway, and High Prince Gazelle's face poked through, dropping into a pouty frown. "Aww. You mean I'm not even allowed to check on my best friend?"

In the room, in a bed slightly more plush than were usually allocated in hospitals, Geribaldi Stormhoof lay propped up on his back, neck in a braced bandage and eyes thin. "You're the last person I want to see right now," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Leave me alone, Gazelle."

"Are you sure about that?" Gazelle licked a paw and ran it through his mane, sauntering in anyway and closing the door behind him. "Because I can think of at least two you'd rather see less."

Geribaldi had no response.

"Not even a reaction, chum?" Gazelle raised an eyebrow. "Your old cat just tried to kill you. Don't tell me you think that conversation was supposed to go any other way. That really sits alright with you? Doesn't make you want to press charges, him trying to murder you and frame it as a suicide?"

"No," Geribaldi rasped. "What do you want, Gazelle? Leave me alone."

Gazelle stuck out his lip, then turned in a circle. "I'm trying to cheer you up. Get some of that fire lit back beneath you! Come on, so the bat stoked your ego a little. Just going to let it all go out now that you've been proven right about everyone being against you?"

Geribaldi's eyes flashed. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"That's your decision," Gazelle replied. "I'm just here to wish you well and say I'm in your court, however you choose to take this."

"Are you? That's rich." Geribaldi painfully snorted, blinking slowly from his bed. "After you waltzed into my private sanctum in what was supposed to be an intimate moment to laugh in my face and tell me you'd been playing me for a fool for the last month. You can't justify that. I know you don't have an altruistic bone in your body."

"Ahem. Rude?" Gazelle coughed, fanning himself with a wing. "I care very deeply for some things. Granted, that includes myself, but still." He scrutinized Geribaldi for a moment, then sighed. "Not buying it, eh?"

"You're wasting both of our time," Geribaldi rasped.

Gazelle's grin returned. "Actually, this is a very productive use of my time, and you weren't doing anything with yours anyway. Care for a more selfish reason I'm on your side, if being nice doesn't cut it?" He circled again. "It all started a while ago when your old cat came to me a while ago and said, 'Gazelle? You're like a son to me.' And I said, 'Aww, thanks!' Big softie."

"I gathered." Geribaldi made a point of looking away.

"And then," Gazelle continued, uninterrupted, "our relationship blossomed and flourished and exchanged a pawful of political favors, until it reached the point where he told me he wished I were his heir. Funny, that. How as the High Prince, I can technically take over whatever province should happen to have its dynasty kick the bucket first? Old Izvaldi's been up at the top of the queue for a while now. But do you want to know a secret?"

He leaned in, grinning with catlike anticipation. "Old Goraldi Izvaldi, the province's last resident sphinx? He's been dead for years. Officially, I should have been the new Lord Izvaldi a long time ago, but it turns out Percival doesn't want to give up his regency and I don't want to rule Izvaldi, so we were able to come to a very beneficial agreement about hiding things."

Geribaldi eyed him coldly. "So you want Stormhoof instead? Take it. My father likes you. He'll stand aside, and I have no intentions of getting in your way."

Gazelle's grin grew wider. "The other half of the secret? Old Stormhoof doesn't really know this, but I don't want to rule Stormhoof either."

Geribaldi's eyes narrowed.

"That's why I need you to stay alive and kicking, chum." Gazelle patted his bed, then went back to sitting a respectful distance away. "It sure would be awkward if Stormhoof decided to off you and retire. Good thing he underestimated my ambitions and trusted me and my choice of assassins a little too deeply, or he could have actually got someone good on the job. But I knew you. You were too cowardly to go through with it, even with Felicity's special talent. So good on you! Don't give up! I'm fine with Stormhoof getting into a political mess, I just don't want it leaderless all of a sudden."

"What are you playing at?" Geribaldi gave him a suspicious look, unable to move at all with the bandage brace around his neck.

"I'm saying I botched your dad's job on you on purpose because I need you alive." Gazelle briefly frowned, then grinned again. "And because I like you. Really, I can have practical and sentimental motivations at the same time, can't I? I may be occasionally ruthless, but I have a heart. See?" He produced an elaborate bouquet from beside the door. "I brought you flowers."

Geribaldi scowled. "Those were left by a nurse several hours ago. They still have the original card."

Gazelle winced. "...It's the thought that counts?"

Geribaldi sighed and went back to being silent.

"Look," Gazelle said, tone settling to businesslike. "You're alone in the world. Treacherous lover, treacherous father, you don't seem to like me much either... But I heard you cackling in there about showing them all. You wanted to do something about it. And just now, I've handed you something you can do. You have charges to press! Felicity really is the Stormhoof underground's primary defense contractor, you know. At any time now, word is probably going to get in up north about Varsidel's reaction to that airship seizure and subsequent pirate incident a while back. How much political leverage do you think you could get threatening the one pony all the higher-ups and only the higher-ups know is responsible for keeping them safe from real assassins? Of which there are a lot. You could squeeze Stormhoof's elite like a vice. Throw me under the cart too, I don't care. I just want to see you fight."

"What is it with you and watching me fight things?" Geribaldi studied him for a moment... and then deflated. "No. I have no intention of lifting a paw."

Gazelle winced. "Err... Really?"

"Really." Geribaldi left it at that.

Gazelle waited a moment longer for an explanation... then sighed. "Why are you suddenly unwilling to lift a paw to defend yourself, as you put it? I know you, Baldy. A setback like that might sting a little on the outside, but doesn't it fill you with that righteous anger?" He clenched a paw in front of his face, briefly gritting his teeth. "The same anger and purpose I feel when I think about what I love most?"

"...That's why," Geribaldi said, as if this were a perfect answer. "Because I failed."

"...Failed at what?" Gazelle tilted his head.

"That anger you just mentioned?" Geribaldi seemed to come slightly more alive, eyes mostly open as opposed to half-lidded. "My righteous indignation, desire to 'show them all'? It has a name, in case you weren't aware. They call it the Thrill. My egotistical breakdown with Felicity? Your megalomania and political plotting? My father trying to kill me? Famous sphinxes of legend like Giovanni Goldfeather? You think these are isolated occurrences?"

Gazelle leaned forward in interest, folding his paws on the railing of the bed. "Oh, now that's interesting," he mused. "Do tell."

"Historical studies are rare," Geribaldi coughed. "It's very difficult to find information on, but such is my privilege as an academic. And you can imagine why. Even with Garsheeva's presence, public sentiment would become considerably more shakable if it were widespread knowledge that certain traits... icy tempers, bouts of egomania, sociopathy and an inability to see when we've gone too far... These aren't isolated flaws of history's more infamous leaders, but something every sphinx has been afflicted by on a varying scale. And if not every, enough to make it a widespread pattern. It can be fought and isn't severe, but it's a tendency that can be embraced, too. Some of the darkest hypotheses I've had access to even suggest that our race is unnatural or cursed somehow."

"Huh. I hadn't heard." Gazelle studied himself, then grinned again. "So now you mean I have an excuse every time someone tells me I'm acting like a big foal? Is that it?"

"No!" Geribaldi's eyes widened. "This is not a trait to embrace! You've called me a coward before, Gazelle?" They narrowed again, fixing the High Prince with a glare. "I admit it. Not only do I admit it, I embrace it. You might prepare for leadership of your future province by planning or arranging political setpieces, Gazelle. Thinking about things like this is another thing most sphinxes are good at. Sharp intellects are part of our nature. After I discovered the existence of this phenomenon, I devoted my own self to preparation through mental training and self-denial. I based my worth and ability to rule off my ability to resist this curse, to hold my head level in the most tempting or heated of circumstances. And I've failed. I let an ego-stroking false lover get the best of me... and a sarosian to boot. I am not fit to rule."

Gazelle frowned, musing to himself. "You know? Maybe that brain of yours is good for something after all, Baldy. I'd actually be very interested in learning more about this curse of yours. But let me get things straight. You don't want to fight your father because you think you'd make a piddly ruler when you're so easy to manipulate?"

Geribaldi sighed. "What's the point of being a ruler who is so easy to rule? I would never be able to lead my people or give them the service they deserved."

"Sounds a whole lot more altruistic than me." Gazelle shrugged. "At least your heart's in the right place in the first place. I could care less about making the Empire a perfect place for the people. I just want my sister to inherit a land she doesn't have to watch tear itself apart with politics and mind games. No matter how it means uniting the people, I will have an empire, not a mere province. And you could make a fantastic ally."

Geribaldi squarely met his gaze. "That says nothing about me."

"...Mind control," Gazelle sighed. "Felicity's brand manipulates your emotions. Happy?"

Geribaldi's eyes widened.

"You didn't succumb to your little curse," Gazelle continued. "Not just any random mare can do that. It's a big part of what makes her so dangerous, the other part being her ambitions. Baldy! Right now, Lord Stormhoof has a brewing crisis with you on his paws, his entire army stuck thousands of miles away in the city of Ironridge, and Varsidel's going to be coming to call about their merchant ships and sailors any day now. When all that collides at once? The other provinces are going to smell blood. Stormhoof is one of the oldest and most powerful dynasties in the Empire, and this could be curtains for it depending on how things go. Everlaste, Stormhoof's greatest ally, is already on watch to fortify your garrisons with their own troops in an act of solidarity that may become an actual defense. Whether or not you trust yourself, now is your moment. And Izvaldi is about to explode too, according to some information I've received, which means I am forced to act. I'll be playing the game, Geribaldi."

Turning, Gazelle moved to the door, lifting a wing behind him in salute. "I'd love to have you on my side."

Comments

[Czar_Yoshi]

9490432 Yeah, sorry about that. IRL stuff ran later than expected, and this wasn't a chapter I wanted to cut in half just to be a little less-late. I'll see if I can't do something longer tomorrow to make up for it.

[Valra Bellkeys]

When I read the brief summary of this fic on the front page, I though it was just a ~8k word comedy fic.

Then I looked at the word count...
Oh my Celestia....

[Sputniik]

How does a story with over 1M words only have under 3k views ?

[Zapdroid]

9490501
No worries, you spoil us too much already with daily uploads! Take your time, take a few days off, I think we’ll survive.

[Venlinelle]

…Have you been reading The Stormlight Archive? Because if not, that is a hell of a coincidence.