Of Course

by RavensDagger

Nine Members Of The Great Noble Crowd Watch In Terror

Executor peeked forwards, her long, golden wingtip brushing away at the curtains separating her from the throne room. The velvet drapery slipped aside, giving the mare a panoramic view of the room below, one partially blocked by the twin towers of stone that were the princesses’ thrones.

There, amongst the cornucopia of nobility, celebrities and gentleponies of note, was Princess Celestia. Beams of power arced out of her pearl horn, fluctuating and dancing an intricate weave over a fiery-red form laying on the ground. “She... she’s dead,” the Princess announced.

A collective gasp echoed thoughout the crowd as Executor watched. Tears began to flow freely and some nobles peeled away into small cliques. They tried to build groups of caring friends while staying within meters of the scene.

Guards rushed over to the prostrate body that was once Spitfire and, as gently as they could and with the greatest respect, slid her onto a stretcher. Executor watched in silence as they carried her away, hooves echoing through the hall with a note of finality and mourning. All watched. All but a stallion rushing out a side door.

Soon, the golden mare thought, her dextrous wingtips running along the length of her saddlebags. She took a tiny step forward, her attention shifting from Celestia, who was looking around with wide, uncertain eyes, to Princess Luna.

The dark alicorn surveyed the room. Her fierce eyes travelled over everything, from the buffet in the corner that filled the room with aromas that should have been appetizing to the now barren dancefloor, to the musicians near it clutching at their instruments like the old friends that they were.

The indigo mare moved. With a gesture that only hinted at the dignity that she possessed, Luna lifted herself from her throne and lightly walked across the stage, coming to a full stop at the far end opposite Executor.

Her tail twitched three times.

Taking a deep breath, Executor slid out of the shadows, long, thin legs moving across the marbled floor with a grace that matched the princess’s until she came to a halt at the stage’s edge. “Excuse me, everypony,” she said, her timid voice hardly a whisper in the ears of those assembled.

They kept their mourning or silent vigil over the wonderbolt, some exchanging words of panic and fear in hushed tones and whispers. They’re not listening, the mare realized. The weight of the saddlebags suddenly bore more importance to her. “E-excuse me, please, I request your, your, attention,” she asked once more, this time pitching more into her voice.

Nopony cared. There were more pressing matters at hoof. Gossip to be traded. Fears to be brought to life. Rumors to start and lies to spread. The Princess was in a moment of weakness, and the scent of it filled the nostrils of the upper crust.

Oh, I can’t fail now, too much was put into this. Pulling open her bag, the mare twisted her head around and grabbed ahold of two sticks, both of them connected by a slippery cord. One was a thin canister of metal, the other, a thicker clay body covered in a paper wrapping

The mare chomped on the steel cylinder, closing her eyes as it hissed and fizzled. She coughed and spat it out, allowing the entwined tubes to roll across part of the stage. Smoke rose from the metallic end, then the cord began to glow red hot, trailing along until it reached the solid part.

Here goes, she thought as a slew of explosive pops sounded out. Cringing and pulling back her ears, Executor waited for the noisy bangs to still before peeking out of half-lidded eyes.

Every mare and stallion was raptly focused on the timid mare fighting very hard not to rapidly shrink away into a dark corner to flee from their watchful glares. No, I can do this. For Equestria. Swallowing hard, she began with, “It wasn’t an accident.” Her words perked the ears of all; even the Princess blinked and focused on the mare, back still to her.

“Miss Spitfire was killed. An-and, a lot more died, too. And if you don't listen to me, more ponies will die."

One of the gentle-stallions among the crowd took a violent step forward. “Get off the stage, young lady. I’m positive that the guard would love to discuss any information you might have in a private manner.”

She shook her head, locks of her short mane swishing around her head before settling between herself and her audience, hiding them from view. “Yo-you don’t understand, mister. We’re responsible for her death. We did it; we decided that she was going to die, and we made it so. I’m terribly sorry, but this might not be the end of it.” Executor bowed to them. “Oh, please, let me explain.”

Celestia spun around, facing her once and for all as her deep, ageless stare pierced the young mare. Recognition flashed across her features. “You.... But you said ‘we.’ Explain yourself!” she ordered, her voice like the crack of thunder as it rent the air.

“That’s what I, well, we, wish to do. But only if you remain calm. Much is at stake, Princess Celestia.”

The white alicorn’s glare deepened. “What do you mean?” Her stance shifted as she followed Executor’s pointed stare to all the ponies gathered around her. “No, you wouldn’t dare hurt them,” she whispered, raw emotions of fear and anger laced her voice.

“Pri—Miss Celestia, you have to understand that from now on, you’re not the only ruler in Equestria. We’re doing this for the same ponies you want to protect. An-and we’ll watch over them, and do things that you can’t do, even if you really don’t want us to do them.”

Celestia stomped a hoof into the sleek floor, indignation like fire racing across her features. “Are you telling me that I’m unable to rule? Unfit?!”

Executor bit her lip and looked away, pondering before she answered. “No, not really... sorta. It’s just that, despite everything, there are still things that even you can’t do, Celestia. And we’re here to do them. We want to help.”

“I’ve ruled over Equestria for countless millennia. Sacrificing everything I’ve ever had to ensure the safety and protection of my subjects! And you, you little foals dare to threaten them! Who are you to stand up to me?”

“Just ponies. Ponies with abilities, and the will power to help. There are things you, even you cannot do that we can. Equestria has changed while you were busy. Its no longer the same and we want it to return to how it once was: a place of tranquility and peace.” Executor shook her head. “Some ponies have become cruel. Their views are... distorted and wrong. And we want them to disappear.”

“Then let the judicial system care for it! Let the law do its work!” Celestia snapped back.

The young, golden mare blinked her sad eyes, attention shifting the the multitude of ponies then back to the princess. “You’re too merciful. You... you turn a blind eye to bad ponies, and when you do catch them, they get away with it really easily. There’s only love in your rule, no fear. The meanies and the not-nice ponies, they don’t care about you.”

“Sickening,” Celestia growled. “Perhaps I should start making ponies fear me now? Starting with you?”

“We’re, um, going off-topic,” Executor said, noting the fear and shivering that had caught the ponies all around, ponies who prized dignity above all else.

The pearl-white alicorn sighed, her horn glowing brightly as a ladle filled a glass and floated it over. Under the attentive gaze of all, she took a deep swallow of the beverage before she tossed the cup over her shoulder, letting it explode on the far wall in a cascade of flying glass. “Fine, deliver your message.”

Executor allowed the briefest glimpse of a smile to graced her lips as she nodded. “Thank you,” she said, raising from her bow. “We... well, I, just want to warn everypony here, that, that we’re not going to harm them, unless they hurt Equestria first. We’re not really bad ponies, we just sorta want the same chances for everypony.”

“Is that all? All this for such a foalish cause?” Celestia’s glare shifted from Executor to the curtained wall behind her. “Guards, confine her!” she ordered, voice cracking out like a whip.

Executor understood, a few measly clues falling into place. The Princesses’ wild gesturing, the levitation of a cup with her magic blazing: messages to her soldiers.

Out of the darkness walked a dozen guards, silent as a whisper of wind as they positioned themselves around the young mare, forming a shield for the noble guests. Weapons and magic bristled around them as they prepared to assault her. Their muscles twitched and they shifted on the spot, beads of sweat accumulating on their foreheads.

“Grab her, now!” Celestia ordered.

The guard-ponies snapped into motion, smoothly travelling towards Executor with their heads low to the ground.

The mare was faster.

Twisting around, she dipped her head beneath her saddlebags and easily found a cord dangling there, which she grasped and pulled with a powerful jerk. The cord slipped out from within the sack, whistling as the two materials slid past each other. Then, it went taut, the cord stopping dead in its tracks and leaving the mare standing there.

The guards were only half-seconds away from pounding into her with might and magic when the lapels of her bags popped open, and out of the leathery depths came a great hiss like that of an enraged snake, warning before the strike.

Executor cringed as her wings shot open with a single great bellow, the very tip of her primary feathers brushing against the armour of the nearest guard for a brief second before she slammed both appendages down. Her lithe form shot upwards on the strength of her wingbeat as thick plumes of golden smoke billowed out of her sacks.

The guards skidded to a halt, grunting while their metallic horseshoes scraped against the ground. Executor’s mind flashed with dire warnings, that was too close, and, it’s not over. Young and timid, yet brave eyes looked up and into a pair of ageless violet orbs filled with fear and empathy.

She shot ahead, pointedly ignoring the scurrying guards beneath her as she arched down towards the crowd, thick plumes of the impenetrable fog coating the air around her like a blanket, one that allowed no light to filter through.

The crowd snapped as a gigantic pillar of gold rose above them, formless yet huge as it flashed and darkened in the flickering light. Screams and cries of desperation filled the hall as the ponies ran in every direction, vainly trying to avoid the ever-growing fog.

Celestia’s horn glowed while her immaterial magic tried to grasp at the elusive gases, only to slip between the intangible material. Grunting in frustration, the Princess turned her attention to the sputtering and coughing form of her guard, of whom she could see only glimpses. That very attention was immediately stolen by the clacking of hooves on marble not a meter to her side.

She turned, ears and eyes searching as the gas only thickened. “Where are you?” she asked, demanding to know with the authoritative voice that could make so many quake.

The thump of saddlebags on the ground was her only answer. Executor trotted along, her heart beating in her throat as she was acutely aware of the towering alicorn only a few steps away. One last message, then I can leave, she thought.

As silently as she could—a task made easy by the shrieking of mares and the confused cries of stallions—Executor circled around the Princess, hooves shivering as she tried her best to quell her own panting. “I’m sorry, Celestia,” she said, pointedly avoiding the title the alicorn had earned.

The Princess swerved around, powerful magics rending the air above her as she prepared a powerful spell. A tiny, yellow form appeared at her side, approaching her at a gallop.

The beam whipped down, slicing through the air only to come to a full stop and dissipate in the blink of an eye.

The yellow colt ran on, bawling his eyes out, completely unaware of what might have happened to him.

She hissed, turning back to the shadows with a predator’s gait. “Come on out; face the law. Face me, little mare.”

“Oh, please don’t be angry, Princess; we only want you to rule in peace. It’s-it’s been a thousand years since you’ve shouldered more than your fair share. Let us take part of the burden,” the shadows offered. “There’s no poison here, just the cruelty of their imaginations. We, we really hope that this can be a last warning.”

The princess searched, sought, tried to find the golden mare. But above all else, she questioned herself.

Executor walked to the ballroom’s edge and into a servant’s passageway. Looking over her shoulder before the door snapped shut, she whispered, “Goodbye, corruption.”

---

It took time, a few opened windows, and the full willpower of two goddesses to calm the frenzied ponies of the ball.

Soon, the guests were heading home after what had been, without any doubt, the worst Grand Galloping Gala to date.

The rumours spread like a gust of cold wind through the streets and back alleys of Canterlot. There was a new force to deal with, a new player in the ever-evolving game of politics. One that had outwitted the Princesses, and whose only goal was peace, retribution and a sick justice.

Rumours tend to be wrong.

Edited by: The Misfits!

Comments

[Cloudiest Nights]

Woohoo! I'm so glad this finally updated. Is Executor acting when she's so timid here? I remember he a bit more "firey" in one of the first few chapters.

[shutaro]

So Luna is part (head?) of this? Most intriguing.

[RavensDagger]

2245279
What?

I never said that... I just implied it...

[shutaro]

2245329
But it fit's so well!
The way Executor talks about the bad ponies that Celestia won't punish because she is all about love and forgiveness, how Celestia had to pull more then her share for a thousand years and the way Executor said “I’m sorry, Celestia,”. That all screams "Luna is back and her justice is swift and absolute." to me.
Oh, and I like the idea.

[Tyler799]

I love this story, though it breaks many canons. :/
In any case, now I'm incredibly curious about what's going on with all this.
Cool story, bro.

[James Washburn]

2245096
If she turns out to be Fluttershy, I friggin' called it. As of now.

[statoose]

Luna... I thought she might be part of this when I read 'cyan eyes' two chapters ago. It seems there is still much to be discovered!

It confuses me more than a little to see Executor so shy. I'd imagine someone mentally ready to be part of something so largely affecting to Equestria, to kill, would be ready to speak of her cause without hesitation.

2245329 So... you're saying she's not part of this? O__o

[RavensDagger]

2257962

I didn't say that either!

Maybe she is.
Maybe she isn't.
Maybe you'll read the next chapter and find out?