Celestia Regina

by Sledge115

I ~ The Siege

I

The Siege

The Moon had never felt so cold, even at Summer’s end. Yet its tranquil beauty, once so welcome to all of Equestria, now brought only looming dread for the Princess of the Sun.

Sparing the lonely figure cast on its surface one last glance, Celestia returned her gaze onto the flight ahead. Just as she exited the clouds, moonlight behind her, her eyes fell onto the sprawling, walled city down below.

It was a sight that greeted many a traveller who crested the Smokey Mountains or sailed in from the North Luna Ocean. Vanhoover sat upon many islands, guarding the entrance to the two rivers that flanked its sides. The lights of the city and the mighty stone walls that marked its borders promised refuge to those souls brave enough to cross the untamed wilderness separating it from the rest of Equestria.

Now, those lights had been extinguished save for a few dim torches on the city walls, the gates surely sealed shut. Where once caravans streamed in and out, bringing goods to Equestria’s northernmost city, there were none as far as Celestia’s eyes could see.

With her horn alight, cloak and heavy saddlebags tightened, Celestia descended upon the hills beyond the city’s walls. As she glided down for a soft landing, in one graceful motion the Moon was lowered and the Sun was raised slowly from behind the Smokey Mountains, basking the valleys, rivers, and marshes with its light.

Her hooves on solid ground, her wings held tight against her body, Celestia dimmed her horn and looked around.

Much had been spoken and written of Vanhoover’s might. Few had bothered to mention the stench of the disease-ridden northern marshes just beyond it. No trained commander of the Royal Guard would be foolish enough to establish a campsite there.

From the corner of her eye, Celestia caught a glimpse of the encampment and its actual emplacement, as the light of her Sun finally fell upon the tents. It lay at a vantage point, a good distance away; overlooking the city, from a clearing surrounded by pine trees.

Overzealous he may be, the Northern Legion’s captain was meticulous. Ironhoof wouldn’t dare make a mistake, not when he wished to impress.

With a heavy sigh, Celestia marched onward across the grassy hillside, passing through the forested terrain. Both her saddlebags were packed to the brim, yet did not burden her stride. The absence of her regalia helped in that regard.

Only when two guards emerged from the encampment, each bearing a lit horn in warning, did Celestia pause beyond the treeline.

“W-who goes there?” said one of the pair. The senior Guard, Celestia surmised, going by his crest. An officer.

Good. She could relay her request immediately.

A brilliant flash burst across her vision, followed by a quick tingle, which dissipated as swiftly as it had appeared. As her sight cleared, she turned her attention towards the other, younger unicorn, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Ahem– commendable aim, Private,” said Celestia. She pulled off her hood, letting her lush mane flow once more. The poor lad before her shivered and stammered, and his officer was not doing much better. So much for the stiff upper lip. “Please, may I speak with Captain Ironhoof?”

* * * * *

Captain Ironhoof was an ambitious stallion. This much was evident to anyone within ten seconds of meeting him. Five seconds, at his proudest moments.

To Celestia’s chagrin, this was one such moment. When he stood at his tallest, the silver unicorn came up a head taller than either of the Guards flanking him.

“Ah, Princess Celestia!” he boomed, his deep bass surely heard throughout the camp. “It is my great honour to receive you here. The troops of the Northern Legion welcome your arrival!”

He bowed down once more. Behind him, the assembled Guards stood at the ready, in various states of readiness, judging from the stains of food on their muzzle or missing pieces of armor. Many had their eyes half-closed, lined by bags underneath.

After the longest time, Ironhoof raised his head, frowning as he turned to face the Guards. His eyes darkened into a sharp glare, aimed squarely at his soldiers. Yet when he met Celestia’s gaze, that cheeky, loathsome smile had returned.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he said, with thinly-veiled disgust, “but it seems my troops aren’t quite ready to receive a guest of your stature.”

“That’s very much alright,” Celestia replied hurriedly. “I came here on short notice, after all.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Ironhoof replied. That grin of his remained. “Perhaps I could find use for a Night Guard or two. Yet the less of those traitors, especially around your graceful presence, Your Highness, the better.”

Part of Celestia wished to correct him then and there. Captain Nocturne had, in fact, refused to defect on that night. But Ironhoof was already barking orders to the Guards, sending them scrambling back to their stations.

“Come, Your Highness,” he said. “Let us convene at my tent, I’ve got the best tea brews just for you. Come, come.”

A spot of tea struck Celestia as too fancy for such an occasion. Perhaps the good Captain already fancied himself a friend of hers. Clearly, he hadn’t seen the crowd that awaited him. With little more to say, Celestia followed his lead.

Down the path they trod, passing by trebuchets and ballistas, the beginnings of trenches and wooden pallisades. They, Celestia imagined, were planned to stretch all ’round the besieged city, connecting with the other encampments she’d espied on her flight. This camp had come alive for the day, torches blown out one by one as troops marched out from their tents.

Each step by the Captain's side brought mounting regret. He spoke loudly and at length of his troops, pride of the Northern provinces, the cream of the crop only he could have selected. His words were passing through one ear and out the other, however. As they trotted past the common soldiers and officers who saluted left and right, Celestia caught sight of caravans pushed aside, their contents covered hastily by tarp.

One detail stood out most of all to Celestia. There was not a pegasus or earthpony in sight – at least, none in armor. Only a few were to be glimpsed, all huddled near the caravans. They whispered amongst themselves, only to be quieted by Ironhoof’s piercing glare.

At last, they reached the officers’ tent. Large, imposing, and a touch grand, as field tents went. Celestia lowered her head in entering after Ironhoof. Within, the tent was dominated by a large roundtable at the center, covered by a map of Vanhoover.

“Bah, where’s that dratted– Serving Bell!” Ironhoof barked, in the process of removing his armor.

His response was a yelp, followed by the sound of a dozen metal utensils falling off a rack. A chestnut earthpony, no older than twenty, emerged from behind the tent flaps, muttering profuse apologies while he bowed down, his snout touching the grass.

“By all the damn stars,” Ironhoof growled, marching over to grab the poor colt’s shoulder, “get a hold of yourself! I’ve got myself a guest, boy. Go fetch our tea, would you?”

“R-right away, sir!”

Before Celestia could speak up, Ironhoof had shoved his servant back out and turned around. His proud smile was back.

“My apologies,” said Ironhoof, chuckling. “Earthponies. You know how they are.”

“Do I, Captain?” Celestia replied coldly. “There’s nothing to apologise for. Not for him.”

If Ironhoof had sensed the venom she laced her words with, he showed no sign of hearing it, caught up in a hearty chuckle as he was. “Too right! Please, have a seat, Your Highness. It must have been quite a trip! Tell me, how does Canterlot fare these days? How is Cuff, that rascal?”

“Oh, nothing new, Captain, I assure you,” Celestia answered, taking her seat, just as Ironhoof did the same across from her. “Tis’ the same old routine at the Court. Iron Cuff is presently busy tending to his new responsibilities.”

“I can imagine, heh,” said Ironhoof, shaking his head. “Strange choice, I admit, keeping him and that old bat Nocturne around. I’d have sent him to the Moon myself. But one wrong move and off he goes, aye?”

The corners of Celestia’s mouth twitched. “On the contrary, he’s been quite reliable and loyal. He refused to follow her lead.”

“Ah, one of the good ones then, eh? Good to know those thestrals aren’t all bad. I thought they’d have followed her all the way, all the mares and stallions and colts.”

“Always loyal,” Celestia recited through clenched teeth, “and only to Equestria. But you know, I haven’t seen a single pegasus or earthpony around here either, only your unicorns.”

“Naturally, Your Highness,” Ironhoof replied, tapping the map with his command staff. “Only the finest siege troops for this operation, I assure you. They’ll have the city taken in no time at all.” His face darkened, as he leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I could have used pegasi, admittedly, but with Vanhoover? Too unreliable, untrustworthy and scatter-brained. And earthponies, feh. Best not to risk rebel sympathies nor incompetence on such a crucial operation.”

“I see,” Celestia answered, holding down the bile that rose up her throat. She glanced at the map. “You’ve taken the supplies for yourself then, Captain. No less than three forward bases here. Ready for a long siege, I presume?”

“Aye. My troops have better use for the supplies we’ve seized. Best to keep them well-fed. It ought to be a long one… or not so long, hah!” At once, though, his smile disappeared. “Serving Bell, that blasted– Excuse me, Your Highness, you must be famished.”

Celestia cleared her throat, just as Ironhoof got up. “No, it’s quite alright–”

“No, no, my apologies, truly,” Ironhoof said, continuing on his way, “clearly, some ponies ought to have some sense beaten–”

“Enough.”

Celestia stood to her full height. As she did, the wind blew harshly, blowing the map off of the table and overturning chairs. Chatter outside the tent went quieter than snowfall at midnight.

“I’ve no time for tea,” Celestia said firmly, the Royal Canterlot Voice fading away, “and you’d do well not to lay a hoof on that colt. Am I clear?”

Ironhoof, frozen halfway through opening the tent flap, gulped. “Y-yes, Your Highness.”

With a flick of her horn, the table was replaced, the map spread out across the table, and the chairs rearranged. Celestia sat down, fixing her glare on Ironhoof.

“Now,” Celestia began, “what I want to know, Captain, is why three thousand troops of the Royal Guard have been dispatched to Vanhoover without advance notice given to Canterlot.”

Ironhoof cleared his throat. “I… I had to act swiftly, Your Highness,” he said, gingerly seating himself. “If news of what transpired here were to spread beyond our borders, it would put us in the sights of many. Thrace, or Saddle Mareabia, perhaps even Neighpo–”

“The first news of rebellion came from your own letter, Captain,” Celestia cut him off. “I’ve heard barely a whisper from Baroness Vanhoover.”

“But I’ve had to work with what I had,” Ironhoof protested. “When we heard of the unrest here, clamouring for treason against your rule, Your Highness, someone had to restore some measure of order. They dared to throw our envoy into the river! Thank goodness we were there to pick him up on the banks.”

“And pray tell, what do the ponies of Vanhoover want? What of their side, Captain?”

“Well… uh…”

“You don’t know.”

“Well, what is there to know, Your Highness?” Ironhoof replied, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Traitors and rebels, the whole lot. If I had been in charge of the garrison there, I’d have them hung from the gallows right away.”

“And did it not occur to you, not once, that Vanhoover’s garrison would have good reason to stand with their own?”

“I… don’t understand. They’ve thrown their lot in with the Baroness. They deserve the gallows, as do the rebels.”

Celestia let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Lift the siege.”

Ironhoof’s eyes widened. “Beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

“Lift the siege, Captain,” Celestia repeated, tapping the table. “Dismantle the siege equipment, distribute the supplies to Vanhoover’s citizens and populace, as they should have been.”

“But– but, Your Highness,” Ironhoof stammered out, “I– my troops, they need the supplies. We’ve marched a fair distance here.”

“And do they not require it as well?” Celestia countered coolly. She gestured outside, towards the city. “From my understanding, you’ve given them naught a chance to speak. You’ve marched on them when they dared to.”

It was at this moment that Ironhoof stood up. “They are clamouring for the Nightmare’s return!”

Celestia’s voice died in her throat. A dead silence hung in the air, a silence as thick and deafening as that very night in the Castle of the Two Sisters. The smell of ash was keenly felt, once more. There Celestia found herself back amidst the burning castle gardens.

When she returned to the present, she let out the breath she’d held in for so long.

“Are you certain...?” Celestia replied, barely raising her voice above a whisper.

“You know the city better than I do,” Ironhoof continued. Beneath the surface, that smug, haughty tone had returned. “If given the chance… they would.”

For the first time since they’d met here, it was Celestia who averted her gaze, choosing to concentrate upon the map. It was crinkled, but she could just about discern the name of the freezing ocean that bordered Vanhoover, the very ocean named by the city’s then-ruler in honour of their patron.

“If what you say is true, then I’ll still need word from the Baroness herself,” she said. “Prepare the supplies for redistribution by sundown today.”

“But–”

“By sundown. No later than that,” Celestia said, regarding Ironhoof with a withering glare. She heard what might have been a tiny squeak.

“Then…” Ironhoof said, looking for all the world like a lost colt, “uh, I shall dispatch an envoy–”

Celestia silenced him with a raised hoof. “No, you’ve done enough,” she said, her firm, steely voice leaving little to question. “I’ll do it myself.”

Comments

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

Smug self-serving snake. If he had his own way any non-unicorns could starve for all he cares. As for non-ponies...well now, let's simply say the fewer the better.

[BleuBlooms]

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he said, with thinly-veiled disgust, “but it seems my troops aren’t quite ready to receive a guest of your stature.”

Shade bro...shade. Celly is big boned. But...probably... NO! I can not say!

[BleuBlooms]

His response was a yelp, followed by the sound of a dozen metal utensils falling off a rack. A chestnut earthpony, no older than twenty, emerged from behind the tent flaps, muttering profuse apologies while he bowed down, his snout touching the grass.

You know has their ever been a story. Where the earty pony has not ever been a servant of somekind? It just struck me as I was reading that even with a storys given message. Their always more often then not earth pony servants? Mind in canterlot? Yes?

I would imagine their are stories that have unicorns or whatever in those roles. But! It is interesting that it is imagined more often that earth ponies are the servants? I just think thats interesting.

Aka unicorns are nobles? I think their some subtle sociological condition there. Their? Hmm...curious.

[Latecomer]

10883352
It makes you wonder who the servants were back when the tribes were separate. Surely a noble like Platinum had plenty.

[Octoskan]

10883352
The only story I can think of where the unicorns are the subservient class is in iisaw's The Skyla Pseudonym.

Edit: also applezombi's Rekindled Embers, but they're not so much slaves as they are relentlessly persecuted.

[Bicyclette]

And earthponies, feh.

Feh!

---

Ironhoof seems singularly bad at reading the room, which makes me wonder if within the unicorn supremacist circles he is in, belief that the Princess is secretly completely on their side is taken for granted, and somehow never had any evidence come up against it. It makes sense for them to believe that their beliefs are more widespread than they are, but I wonder if Celestia had just held her tongue during their previous one-on-one encounters, which led to him being more and more open with his beliefs as he failed to get pushback, until this incident happened. It would be interesting to see why Celestia had held off on correcting him for so long, as she did not seem very surprised with what he was saying or doing; just angry.

[The Sleepless Beholder]

I really like this Celestia. Calm, composed, not unwilling to joke to easy nerves, and not quick to anger but willing to show it when it's clear somepony needs to be humbled or put in line. And most of all, mindful of everyone's motives and values, and giving due respect to their actions, even if others treat them as traitors or inferiors.

This is a great ruler.

[Fiddlove Enfemme]

Ahhhh, now it is time for me to read some QUALITY literature. For those unaware onlookers, I once read OSOTS when it was first being published, but was turned off by the hodge-podge of references and poor character writing, Myself and others recently revisited OSOTS, and are in the process of suffering as we try to get through a lot of painful authorial decisions.

Sledge recommended that I start here, so here I shall start.

“My apologies,” said Ironhoof, chuckling. “Earthponies. You know how they are.”

What a lovely, dutiful guard captain. Let's see what... god damn it, he's a racist

“And pray tell, what do the ponies of Vanhoover want? What of their side, Captain?”

Thank the Maker that Celestia is being a voice of reason, and is choosing to de-escalate the situation instead of moving directly to open warfare.

Celestia silenced him with a raised hoof. “No, you’ve done enough,” she said, her firm, steely voice leaving little to question. “I’ll do it myself.”

In all her appearances, Celestia is characterised as someone who would rather resolve conflicts amicably. She's content to let others act in her stead, but when they mess up, she will step in to correct what went wrong. She also isn't afraid to admit when she's wrong. I must commend you for giving an accurate, nuanced portrayal of this part of her character.

Impressions of this story so far? It's only the first chapter, but it's a strong hook, one that tickles my love of ancient warfare and diplomatic intrigue.

[Sledge115]

11345543

Pleasure to see you here

Ahhhh, now it is time for me to read some QUALITY literature. For those unaware onlookers, I once read OSOTS when it was first being published, but was turned off by the hodge-podge of references and poor character writing, Myself and others recently revisited OSOTS, and are in the process of suffering as we try to get through a lot of painful authorial decisions.

Many a brain cell was lost that day...

What a lovely, dutiful guard captain. Let's see what... god damn it, he's a racist

He's not cringe... he's just fucking RACIST

Thank the Maker that Celestia is being a voice of reason, and is choosing to de-escalate the situation instead of moving directly to open warfare.

Because that's what Celestia does, at her best. She handles it.

In all her appearances, Celestia is characterised as someone who would rather resolve conflicts amicably. She's content to let others act in her stead, but when they mess up, she will step in to correct what went wrong. She also isn't afraid to admit when she's wrong. I must commend you for giving an accurate, nuanced portrayal of this part of her character.

Impressions of this story so far? It's only the first chapter, but it's a strong hook, one that tickles my love of ancient warfare and diplomatic intrigue.

High praise this early on? But I'm glad I nailed her character, heh.