• Published 3rd Jan 2021
  • 243 Views, 2 Comments

Going with the Grain - Bronyxy



Applejack finds out there may be another branch of her family in Whinnieapolis on the other side of Equestria, so she sets off on the longest journey of her life to find out.

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8 Celestia's Problem

Five generations earlier

It was a sunny morning.

Celestia had lowered the moon and raised the sun to give her little ponies another beautiful day.

She was pleased to be doing what she could for them, but secretly wished she could enjoy the sunshine like most of her subjects would; however, today she was scheduled to hold a meeting that was going to be tricky, and she knew it.

She sighed. If only her Sister had been there to support her, like she had nine hundred years ago, that would have made the burden so much easier to bear. Celestia had been down this self-pitying train of thought many times before, during times of war and natural disaster, but there had always been a focus, am immediacy to whatever problem had been bedevilling Equestria. Today, they had to face a different kind of problem, one that instead of having a simple focus had been a slowly evolving issue that she had been putting off addressing, and it was unlikely that there would be any easy solution.

Celestia sat on the throne and drummed her hooves. Sure, there were guards, advisors and servants with her, all poised to offer whatever help they could, but she felt alone, desperately alone.

She made eye contact with a servant from the kitchen staff, who at her unbeckoned command advanced towards the seated white figure, ready to accept her order.

“Cake, please” she said with a sigh, not because she needed sustenance, but because it was something pleasant to distract her, “And tea.”

“What type of cake, Your Majesty?” asked the servant timorously.

“Sunshine cake, if you please” she replied with the barest flicker of a smile.

The servant backed away respectfully, then headed straight for the side door used by serving staff rather than towards the large ceremonial doors that stood protected by two members of the Royal Guard.

Celestia reverted to drumming her hooves and looked up to the high windows from where the sunlight, her sunlight, was streaming in. How she envied those who did not have to wrestle with affairs of State.

A chatter of indistinguishable multiple voices echoed from somewhere along the stone corridors and disgorged itself into the Throne Room accompanied by the sound of massed hoofsteps.

Celestia stiffened in her seat.

The sound of conversations suddenly muted as the voices hushed in proximity of the Throne Room out of respect for their Monarch, leaving the unaccompanied sound of hoofsteps to build to a crescendo before stopping at the large doors.

The guards snapped smartly to attention and parted to allow a stream of officials and their advisors to enter for their allotted audience.

“Mostly earth ponies” Celestia mused to herself, “I suppose that makes sense.”

The party all bowed respectfully and settled themselves waiting for Celestia’s approval in order to proceed. Then, the Head of the Equestria Census Bureau stepped forward:

“Your Majesty” he announced, clearing his throat, “Our calculations suggest that if the population of Equestria keeps increasing according to our projections, then the amount of food we currently produce may not be sufficient to feed everypony, especially if there is blight or some other disease that affects crops, or even if the weather changes to any great extent. “

Another pony moved up alongside the one who had just spoken and announced himself as being the Head of the Department for Agriculture:

“Your Majesty, my colleague here is correct. The pegasi have been working closely with us to ensure that they deliver the optimum weather for crop growth, but we are riding along a very thin line with little room to accommodate unanticipated events, which, as Your Majesty is aware, can strike with little or no warning. For example, if we were to enter a state of famine or even war, then we would be digging into our stored food reserves from day one, with no hope of maintaining delivery in the longer term.”

“In short …” he was cut off as Celestia spoke up.

“In short” she interrupted, “We have to find new ways of increasing food production or the consequences for my subjects will be grave.”

“Quite so, Your Majesty” he concurred.

“I have heard our scientists speak of new techniques for increasing plant yield” she prompted with the faintest hint of optimism.

“Yes, Your Majesty, but these offer only incremental improvements. What we need is a radical boost to our food producing capacity. From the research we have done, I have to advise that the only way forward is to set aside more land for agriculture; this is the only way to deliver food security for the future.”

A third pony stepped forward and pointed to a map of Equestria and surrounding lands being unrolled by two assistants. He introduced himself as the Head if the Equestria Geological Survey and gave a quick tour of Equestria, pointing out the centres of population and areas already used for intensive agriculture. He then pointed to a few small areas with limited agricultural potential, drawing the audience’s attention to their limited size. Once this had sunk in, he went on to point to the neighbouring lands, explaining their topography, suitability for agriculture, and importantly, who owned them.

Celestia wanted to bury her muzzle in her hooves, but knew that such displays although providing temporary relief, only served to dishearten those around her, so remained stoic. As she stared at the map, she noticed that the presenter was circling an area with his pointer. She had zoned out for a moment, but picked up on the words still hanging in the air:
“… great plains would be ideally suited to cereal crops.”

“Who did you say these lands belonged to, please” she asked.

“The Buffalo, Your Majesty” he replied, “They graze in nomadic herds without a fixed settlement.”

“I am acquainted with them, but appear to have been remiss in not keeping up contact as regularly as I should have liked” she mused, “Probably because we have been through rather turbulent times in other areas, and focus has by necessity been elsewhere. They are fundamentally friendly, as I recall, but have very fixed views based on ancestral beliefs. Perhaps there is a chance …”

“Your Majesty?” the Head of the Equestria Geological Survey questioned.

“Is there any viable alternative?” she enquired.

“Not as would give best return per hectare, Your Majesty.”

“Then that’s settled. I must meet with the leader of the Buffalo tribes and see if he would be amenable to some kind of trade that would allow us onto these lands. Thank you; unless there is anything further, you are dismissed.”

As the ponies all bowed and left the Throne Room, the servant arrived with the tea and cake that Celestia had ordered and laid it out in front of her mistress before retreating once more.

The Throne Room was quiet again.

A flute of steam twirled upwards from the spout of the teapot and the glazing on the cake glistened invitingly before her, beckoning her to sample its tasty delights. How she wished more than ever that her Sister had been there to share it with her.

Celestia began to plan out in her mind what she needed to do, staring vacantly at the steam as the tea cooled and the vaporous spiralling form receded back into the spout, registering on some subconscious level that the tea was now too cold to serve.

Finally, she broke her stare away from the teapot and raised her head, eyes alive with an expression of renewed purpose, her gaze falling upon her trusted aide, whom she beckoned over with the wave of a forehoof. He trotted over and bowed deeply before ascending up to the throne where his Princess waited to brief him on her plans. Nodding as she spoke, he jotted down a series of notes on a parchment before rolling it up and excusing himself to make the necessary preparations. The plans made, Celestia suddenly found that her appetite had returned, and looked back at the cake. It would be a shame to waste it, she reasoned, and cut herself a generous slice before doing anything else.

Within minutes, pegasi messengers from the elite Wonderbolts display team were on their way towards the great plains, carrying word to the garrisons at towns and cities on the way that their Princess would be visiting. Less than an hour later, Celestia mounted her Royal chariot behind four of the strongest pure white pegasi of the Royal Guard, a pair of valises stowed safely in the trunk.

At her command they took off and soon became a pinprick in the sky.