Part Ninety-Two
The wave of magic pulsed through the garden. It wasn’t truly visible; it was more of a feeling, a burst of paradoxically ‘cold heat’ that made feathers flick out in instinct and fur puff up. Sir Erreck scuffed a gauntlet against his enchanted armor while his twin smoothed down his head feathers before resting his claws back on his discarded helmet. Sir Ewing affected a look of nonchalance, but his eyes jittered around the garden.
Grover leaned against the trunk of the tree and flipped over the casualty report from Army Group Center. Sunlight lit the page, filtering through the leaves and branches above him. He had left the other folder tucked against his wing pinned to the bark of the tree, a thicker folder with the details for his traditional birthday feast.
The Kaiser would rather read about the losses in the field. He flapped his free wing and folded it against his long coat. The weather was brisk in Canterlot, high up upon the Canterhorn. Grover suspected that unicorns preferred mountains out of some odd desire to sit on horn-shaped objects, but that thought process turned twisted too quickly. True enough for Wittenland as well. At least we have wings to desire height.
He brushed back his sleeve and checked his watch as his fur settled. The twins, both orange-tinted griffons from Gryphus, kept watch with flicking tails. Grover eyed the bobbing tufts of fur as they tapped against the knights’ leggings. In battle, most knights tucked their tail into one of their leg plates and endured the discomfort. Grover’s own tan tail flittered against the leg of his pressed slacks. He twisted his beak around to the well-groomed brown puffball resting on watered grass.
It had picked up some dirt from laying on the ground, so Grover flicked it against the tree trunk and shook the pollen free before sliding it against his long coat. No griffon in their right mind would shave their tail, though some trimmed the bob at the end down for utility. Not as if we could cut it off.
The Reichstone rested beside him, laying on a small cushion to avoid touching the dirt. He was currently using the points of the crown to hold his spare pens and pencils. Ewing and Erreck did not comment on the sacrilege.
The wave of magic pulsed through the garden again. Grover checked his watch. Seven minutes. Punctual. The gems on the Reichstone glowed from the charge in the air, naturally reacting to the magic even though there was no enchantment on the jewels. Grover snapped the folder shut and shifted away from the trunk of the tree, pulling his other folder free. He smoothed it out.
He had written Traditional Birthday Plans across the front of the folder in his looping, official script. He flicked the folder open with a talon and frowned. He had also scrawled My Stupid Birthday Plans on the first page in a fit of pique.
Rice from Brodfeld, pasta from Wingbardy and Aquileia, meats from Herzland, chocolate from Cloudbury, frozen custard from Vedina, food from across the entire Reich had made its way across the ocean to Equestria. It dodged Changeling submarines and saboteurs, guarded by dogs and griffons, checked by Aquileian ponies, all to reach Canterlot Castle in a massive victory feast.
A few captured Hegemony tanks would be stationed in the courtyard since the gallows had been dismantled. Marching the Changeling prisoners out of their warehouses in a proper Triumph was too risky, but everything else would proceed as it always had, every time his Reich had won a great victory.
It would happen whether he wanted it to or not. It was expected.
A peach fell onto the Reichstone and dislodged his pens and pencils. Grover blinked at the small, unripe fruit. It wasn’t properly colored yet; spring hadn’t even begun, though the weather defied tradition on Equus. He looked up over the frame of his small glasses, squinting into the swaying tree branches. The fruits bobbed with an unseen breeze, reacting to the magic dissipating from the garden.
Grover looked down at his folder of expected guests, mostly his army staff being pulled from their necessary, critical assignments to attend a worthless party, then back up to the fruit hanging above. He finally twisted his beak towards the hedges of the statue garden. The magic had come from within.
The glow around the Reichstone’s gems faded.
Grover snapped the folder shut and stretched out his claws, cracking the joints of his talons after lacing them together. He stood up onto all fours and additionally flared his wings, aligning his primary feathers before refolding them. The laces on one of his paw boots were loose, so he tightened them and scuffed away some grass after shaking out his rear legs.
The griffon checked his wing holster under his coat. The old pistol was still securely fastened with the safety on. He left it clipped into the leather. Lastly, he shoved the Reichstone back onto his head after using his black sleeve to wipe off the gold from the fallen peach. He straightened his neck and let the crown settle. Grover collected both folders and the set of pens and pencils, holding them in one claw as he walked forward towards his bag and his bodyguards.
Sir Ewing unclasped the top of the bag and held it out with an equally deferential, “My Kaiser,” in greeting. Grover nodded to him and rather ungracefully stuffed the folders inside. Sir Ewing slung the pack over his armor, looping the straps over a wing. Sir Erreck replaced his helmet and checked his assault rifle, leaving it braced under his right wing.
Grover paused and glanced at the hedges. “With me,” he said shortly, then moved towards the ground entrance. The hedges were easily short enough to hop over with a quick flap, but Canterlot Castle’s hanging gardens were known across the world. Even the Commissariat administration had left them untouched.
Grover stopped at a partially destroyed statue of an armored changeling next to the arch entrance. Mostly untouched, he amended to himself. The ponies hadn’t quite destroyed everything yet. Chrysalis’ black marble victory arch had been detonated yesterday in a controlled explosion; the rubble was sorted through to the cheering whinnies of several thousand ponies that came to watch the Hegemony's victory be undone.
Canterlot is half of Equestria. The war is far from over. The Heer still destroyed what it could as it retreated across the west, and their efforts would only intensify as they reorganized. The Appleloosan Protectorate was functionally cut-off now, but that left the Reichsarmee with two frontlines and split forces.
And the south had oil fields. The Crystal Empire’s were still strangled by the massive pink shield, a blessing and a curse. It narrowed the frontline across the north significantly, but it would need to be dealt with for a proper push into the Changeling Lands. It cut off too many resources.
Grover squinted north. Clouds had gathered, tinged pink from the shield beyond refracting the sunlight across the sky. The weather had shifted; it was no longer as cold, but he could feel the rain coming as a griffon. Pegasi might sense the barometric pressure shifts better than griffons ever could, but it didn’t take a weatherpony to know a storm was coming.
Not the south. Spring will be the perfect time for the offensive. Not that he could do anything at the moment with his army staff withdrawing to Canterlot for his birthday. If he had stayed in Griffenheim, they would have remained in the field. And I could enjoy my dear aunt Gabriela’s simpering company instead. I am sure she would apologize again.
“My Kaiser?” Sir Ewing asked with audible hesitation within his helmet.
Grover snapped back to the hedge. He was standing in a dead end, staring at a statue of Chrysalis had that been defaced with a mustache. Several curses were carved into the base of the statue over a fawning poem dedicated to the Queen of the Changelings.
Grover walked back, moving between the twins as they stepped aside. He walked deeper into the hedge maze and stopped in an intersection. His eyes narrowed behind the lenses, then he brushed his sleeve back and counted down. The knights waited behind him. There were other patrols, several flew around the castle in rotating shifts along with Ironpaws around the gardens, but it was oddly quiet. The castle menagerie had long been removed by the Changelings; they were unable to interact with the animals like the ponies could.
Cursed by the Gods, Grover mused. Eros and his father had forbid such talk after Chrysalis approached for their military agreement. Even Gabriela agreed; the Reichsarmee had been too battered after the revolution and restoration to turn away any help.
Changelings were a mysterious race and guarded their secrets jealously, if they even knew themselves. Perhaps the Queens had secret knowledge, but there was only one Queen of the Changelings now, and she claimed immortality according to the books littering Canterlot written in misspelled Herzlander. Let them try to call themselves ‘Predators’ instead of ‘Parasites.’ Thranx had mentioned a lot, but even he was reluctant to share everything.
The magic pulsed from the right path, brushing through Grover’s right wing first. Grover set his sleeve back and walked in that direction, passing more statues and moving deeper into the gardens. A few dried-up flowerbeds framed open areas meant for soirees and parties, and the hedges started to look overgrown. I doubt they are wasting time sculpting a garden when they could be repairing factories. Grover’s bare claws crunched on smooth stones while his dress boots made his footing awkward. His knights’ gauntlets scored the stones with their weight behind him.
Grover von Greifenstein turned an overgrown corner in the hedge maze and abruptly found himself staring at the Princess of Ponies. He blinked.
Flurry Heart laid atop an empty plinth, letting her oversized wings hang off the sides like a particularly macabre statue. She was wearing the padded jumpsuit she wore under her armor; the sleek, black fabric hugged her fur, rumpling it slightly around her neck where it zipped up. Her hooves pressed tight underneath her body and her head rested on the stone top.
It looked amazingly uncomfortable. As an alicorn, she was already taller than most mares and stallions, and the plinth was meant for something half her size. The alicorn scrunched her body lengthwise to fit atop it, but even with her nonexistent tail it was a narrow fit. Her flank threatened to slip off the side.
The Princess glanced at him from the side of her eye. It wandered over the Reichstone to the knights behind him, then moved towards the hedge rows. Her icy blue iris was ringed red and bloodshot.
“Do you mind,” the Princess said in her peasant-tinged Herzlander, “not telling anyone where I am right now?”
“If your intention was stealth,” Grover replied after a pause, “you should not be blasting spells across the garden.”
Her right wing raised halfway in a shrug, then sagged back against the side of the white marble plinth. “Better safe than sorry,” the Princess muttered. Her crystal band caught a beam of sunlight and sparkled.
Grover’s claws rubbed against the smooth stones making up the path. He fidgeted in place. Sir Erreck cleared his throat behind him with an echoing cough from within his helmet.
“Where’s Benito?” the Princess asked in a flat voice. “He’s usually with you.”
“He has other duties,” Grover deadpanned. “My dogs make up the engineering core of my army as well as my personal guard.” His blue eyes rolled to the sky for a moment. “Where are your guards?” he questioned, flipping the accusation around.
“Wondering where I am, I’m sure,” the Princess drawled. “I’m due for a meeting about my coronation.” Her muzzle scrunched. “What time is it?”
Grover brushed his sleeve back and glanced down. “It’s half-past two.”
“I’m late,” the alicorn gasped in faux horror. Her jaw clinked back onto the plinth with a clack of teeth. A breeze zipped through the garden and the hedgerows; her wings swayed like sails underneath her. Grover noted her feathers were long enough to brush the ground.
“You should forgive him,” the Princess suddenly said in Equestrian.
Grover squinted. “What?”
“Don’t be mad at Benito,” she whickered.
“I am not ‘mad’ at him,” Grover denied. “He has other duties.”
Her eyes drifted around the hedge. “My uncle,” she began, “ran a crime syndicate my entire life in Nova Griffonia. He never said a word about it. Still doesn’t. I found out on my own.”
Grover waited.
“I’m sure there’s other stuff,” the Princess continued. Her accent drifted between softer vowels and clipped consonants from the frontier. “We still love each other. Benito loves you. Don’t hold something that happened years ago against him.”
“How very 'pony' of you to give a lesson in forgiveness,” Grover scoffed. “You forgave the former Generalmajor, I heard. Hanged your own ponies afterwards.”
“Well, I’m not a very good Princess, am I?” Flurry snorted. “How good of a Kaiser are you?”
Grover’s cheeks flushed, then he twisted around with a lashing tail. The twins stepped aside and followed him back around the corner. The Kaiser stomped down the hedgerow for a few steps, then stopped. He turned back around and the knights stepped aside again.
“My Kaiser?” Sir Ewing asked. Grover ignored him.
Grover rounded the corner and stared flatly at the Princess. “I should tell you,” he said in Equestrian, “you are invited to my birthday feast. You may bring guests.”
“I would hope I’m invited to a party held in my castle,” Flurry replied from the plinth. She had not moved.
“It is not your castle yet,” Grover countered.
“Yep,” Flurry acknowledged. “Hence the meeting. That I’m not at.”
“When is your coronation?” the griffon asked. “I am expected to attend.”
A wing flailed in a shrug. “Dunno. Need to set a date. Like at a meeting.”
Grover snorted through his beak. “Is this your work ethic?”
Flurry rolled to the side on the plinth. Her head lolled off the hedge and she stared upside down at him. Grover immediately thought of Aquileia, but the Princess’ eyes wandered around the garden.
“Celestia used this place to avoid work. One of the few things I happen to agree with her on.” She squinted at him, light pink fur reddening around her muzzle from blood rushing to her head. “What’re you doing here?”
“Canterlot’s sculpture gardens are well-known,” Grover answered, “and it is a good day to tour them.”
“All the sculptures are Chrysalis and Queen’s Guard,” Flurry stated dryly. “You’re not missing anything. I think I’m going to order this place cleared for a proper garden, not this flowery crap.”
“Then I saw it before you turned it into some failed commune,” the griffon countered easily.
Flurry puffed her cheeks out. “Excuse me for trying to make sure ponies don't starve to death. More than they already are.” Her brow raised, or rather lowered considering her orientation. “Tour, huh?” Her eyes drifted to the pack on Sir Ewing’s back.
She did not challenge him on his flimsy deflection, and the courtyard descended into silence. Grover looked around at the hedgerows. The Princess let her head hang of the side of the plinth, horn pointed to the ground. Her legs splayed out above her, bare hooves exposed at the ends of the jumpsuit.
“Does that not hurt?” Grover asked after a long moment of silence.
“What?” Flurry nickered. “The Crystal Empire is made of crystal. Including the bed frames. Padding only does so much.”
“Unlike your ponies, you are not made of crystal.”
“They aren’t made of crystal,” Flurry laughed in a ringing giggle. “It’s magic. They’re fur and flesh like everypony else.” She raised her head up and shook her horn. “What, did you think we just carve more out of hunks of crystal? How would they give birth?”
Grover’s eyes went to her wings, then back to her horn.
Flurry traced his gaze and laughed again. Windchimes rang through the courtyard. “My parents never tried for another foal for a reason. I would have liked a little brother.”
Two benches lined the hedges around the courtyard. Grover crossed to one and flumped down on it. He signaled Sir Ewing to unsling the pack. The knight offered it to his Kaiser with a bowed head, then stood several paces away with his twin. Both lingered on the Princess, then the helmets turned to the openings in the hedge maze.
Flurry watched Grover pull out his folders, then the dirty pillow. He flapped it onto the bench to clear the dust and dirt, then sat the Reichstone down atop it. Grover laid lengthwise on the bench afterwards, partially using the crown to prop up his folder.
“Some tour,” Flurry remarked. “The garden is for avoiding work, not bringing it with you.”
“You are still wearing your crown,” Grover answered without looking up.
A golden zap responded to him. The knights tensed at the sound, and Grover glanced over at the alicorn. Her horn was smoking, but the little purple band was gone from underneath her buzzed mane. Her purple and blue stubble was bare under her horn. Flurry laid her crownless head back on the plinth and smacked her lips.
“Are you waiting for Discord to come back?” Grover jested with a lazy swish of his tail.
“What?” Flurry nickered. She rolled a hoof on the plinth. “This isn’t Discord’s.”
“It’s certainly remote enough to be,” Grover pointed out.
“He was out in the open,” Flurry said bluntly. “You probably passed where he was on the way in here.”
Grover’s eyes went to the hedge around him, then to the plinth, then down the trail he walked. “He was just…” the griffon paused, “out there?”
“Yep. As a trophy meant to represent ‘Discord’ as a concept. Seems like a joke.”
“We remember a Time of Contempt, even on Griffonia.”
“We did not,” Flurry responded. “Just like the Crystal Empire.”
Grover hummed. “Surprisingly cold-blooded for the Princess of the Sun.”
“Statues,” Flurry spat with a look of affected anger. “You want Chrysalis as a statue? I’m onboard if you put her somewhere birds will shit on her. And armed guards for her inevitable breakout.”
Sir Erreck’s helmet clanked as he suppressed a laugh.
“She dies,” Grover said idly. “Summary execution if we take her alive. I am not wasting time with a trial or other such nonsense. She is a shapeshifter and defeated Celestia in combat.”
“That’s not a high bar.”
Sir Ewing’s wings jittered as he suppressed a chuckle like his twin.
Grover flipped a page of cuisine and reached down into the pack with an errant claw, fishing around for a pencil. He pulled out a pen, but resigned himself to it. The other folder drifted out of the pack encased in a golden aura.
“What’s so important you brought it with you?” Flurry asked. The folder opened midair and the papers circled her head.
“It is rude to take other’s things without asking,” Grover replied from the bench. He made no move or signal to the knights, and they looked away again. He caught Flurry frowning at the papers.
“Have you lost a lot of griffons?” she asked in a quieter voice.
“Casualties are overall lower than expected,” Grover deflected, “but we are dealing with a race of inborn saboteurs and shapeshifters cursed by the Gods. Proteus thinks it best to ‘Let Arcturius sort them out,’ and I agree.”
The folders floated back into a neat stack, then slipped into the folder. “Will you still accept the prisoners?”
“Are you still committed to that plan?” Grover questioned back.
Flurry did not answer, and the folder returned to the pack at the base of his bench. Silence descended on the courtyard for several minutes, then another wave of magic pulsed through as the Princess cast her detection spell again. Grover looked over at her idly, ignoring a list of ice creams. The sheer effort to transport it without melting…
Flurry met his eyes and her muzzle twisted into a frown. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Grover blinked. “For what?” he responded automatically.
“For killing all those griffons,” she elaborated. “Your griffons.”
Are you?
“Are you?” Grover squawked aloud, surprising himself.
“I wish it didn’t happen.”
“But it did,” Grover said flatly.
Flurry laid her head back on the plinth. “Yeah.”
Grover’s cheeks twitched and he returned to the list of ice cream.
The cells were overstuffed. So were the prisons in Griffenheim. There was a direct line to from the hospitals near the Palace to the holding cells, once the protestors were given medical attention. The ones that lived from Griffenheim Square, at least.
“Rebels,” Grover said aloud.
“My Kaiser?” Benito asked ahead of him. The dog’s head twisted around and he waved the lantern to Grover. The Ironpaws behind the Kaiser stopped as well.
Grover waved a claw. “Nothing.” He pointed a talon at the jailor, another black dog with a hunched back. “Which cell?”
“We’ve pulled him for you, my Kaiser,” the dog growled. His eyes glittered in the low light. “He awaits, just ahead. You are too good to mingle with this filth.” Grover let the comment about his rebellious subjects roll through his feathers.
Griffons usually clamored to see the Kaiser of Griffonkind, but the ones in these cells cringed away from the bars. A few mutely plead for mercy, hushed by the growls of his dog guards. Loudbark was living up to his name ahead, growling for order while the Ironpaws slammed gauntlets against the cell walls to quiet the overcrowded cells.
Not a single dog had been part of the protest in Griffenheim Square. Or any of the others. Grover had heard the sibling protests in his Reich were dispersing ahead of his rolling brigades in Aquileia and Wingbardy. He would need to shift more troops there to keep the unrest low, far more troops than truly necessary. And the fleet would gather along the western coast to be assessed for its loyalty. The Airforce had redeployed as well.
Grover pressed his left wing against the holstered pistol. It wasn't the way he intended, but he would get his war.
Soon enough, the small vanguard reached a lonely cell down two flights of stone steps, split off from the rest of the Palace’s dungeons. The dogs fanned out along the walls and lit the lanterns with matches. This area had been dug so deep by Grover II’s loyal dogs it was never electrified. There was no need; the Black Cells had never been used since his ancestor’s reign.
Grover VI scuffed his claws in the dark, and Benito brought a lantern up to the bars in front of him. The griffon inside squinted at the first light he’d seen in several days. He would need a bath and preening before he was released, that much was certain.
“Frederick Sharp?” Grover asked in a voice he pitched deeper. “Son of Professor Dougan Sharp and Greta Sharp, brother to Eleanor Sharp and Arthur Sharp?”
The griffon in the cell nodded and rasped, “My Kaiser…”
“You know who I am,” Grover acknowledged, shifting on his claws as the Reichstone glowed from the lamps. “Good. Your father awaits his execution in another cell. Your sister took a round through the lung. She is dying in one of my hospitals, triaged in a surgical center.”
The griffon did not answer. Grover stared at Frederick, squinting through his glasses in the low light. He was brown feathered and tan furred, like himself, but with yellow claws, unlike Grover’s darker talons. According to the profile he extracted from his father, their birthdays were less than two weeks apart.
They were the same age.
“I have ordered your sister to be operated on immediately,” Grover continued. “That will doubtless mean some other traitor will die, but so be it. She will live.”
The griffon licked at a chapped beak. “Mercy,” he croaked.
“There is no mercy for traitors,” Grover answered in a snarl. “Your father made his opposition to the Gods and to the Reich clear, and your family will share his fate.” He paused. “But the Gods believe in redemption.”
The griffon shuffled forward towards the bars. His eyes were wild. Benito tapped on the hilt of his sword in warning.
“You won awards in Yale for cross-country flying,” Grover stated. Frederick bobbed his head rapidly. “I have a task. Should you succeed in everything I ask, your family will be released. I swear it on the Gods your father forsook in defiance of me.”
Grover stared at a griffon his age and nearly his height. His blue eyes hardened behind his glasses as the light from the lanterns reflected in the lenses. “Should you fail-”
“I need to fly,” Flurry Heart said from the plinth.
Grover blinked. He had pressed the tip of his pen into the margin of the list of ice cream to write something, but he had completely forgotten what he meant to note. He licked his beak.
“I lost a lot of feathers in the battle,” Flurry admitted. “Had to clip a few primary feathers down. Should be good to fly now.” She rolled to her hooves and bundled them together, standing up on the plinth and flaring out her wings as she arched her back. She didn’t seem that bothered to have been laying on a stone plinth for more than an hour.
Grover glanced at the pen pressed against his dessert list. “What kind of ice cream do you like?” he blurted out in Equestrian.
Flurry paused on the top of the plinth, looking like an oversized flamingo. She craned her neck down towards him with pressed lips. “What?”
“Do you like ice cream?” Grover rephrased.
“I was born in the Crystal Empire,” Flurry snorted. “It’s cold. And I was raised by Equestrians. Sugar is an essential component of our lifestyle. Of fucking course I like ice cream.”
“…any particular flavor?” Grover managed.
Flurry glanced down at her pink hooves beyond the black jumpsuit. She flapped her wings as she hopped down. “Dunno. Strawberry? Chocolate’s overrated.”
“My grandfather loved chocolate.”
“The one that slept with everything that moved?” Flurry nickered.
“Yes,” Grover answered. His eyes went to the knights. “He wasn’t an Aquileian, however. Never a pony.”
Flurry smirked. “What a shame.” She stretched out her legs in the jumpsuit. “Might have made things easier.”
“You know,” Grover began, “Celestia wrote love letters to Grover the Great-”
Flurry sputtered. “She did not!” the alicorn insisted. “Don’t try to grift me!”
“Grover II found them credible enough to act out,” the Kaiser continued. “It’s called The Secret Letters of Celestia. It’s banned in Griffonia.”
Flurry rolled her eyes. “You should republish them. It’d be funny.”
“Legend goes that Grover II only stopped the reenactments after one of his courtiers got too into playing Celestia. Banished him to Greifenmarschen.”
Flurry hummed. “He didn’t kill him?”
“Grover was afraid he’d keep acting like Celestia during the execution.”
Flurry genuinely laughed, a full-throated, snorting chuckle that rang like church bells. She shook her head and flopped her ears around afterwards. “I’m going for a flight. You wanna come with?”
Grover looked back at the folder, then at the Reichstone behind it. “What?”
“Fly, nerdbird,” Flurry huffed. “You can fly, can’t you?”
“My Kaiser,” Sir Ewing said in warning. Flurry glanced at the knights over a wing.
“You can come too,” she shrugged in Herzlander.
“It’s not wise to fly around an unsecured city,” Grover deadpanned.
“We’re hanging off the side of a mountain,” Flurry said in response. “It’s the ‘Hanging Gardens of Canterlot’ for a reason. You ever follow a downdraft down a mountain?”
Grover flicked his feathers and thought about the times he flew around the high ceilings of his palace, then the open courtyards. He’d never once flown around any of his cities. “No.”
Flurry grimaced. “Missing out.”
Grover checked his watch. “And you are missing a meeting, apparently.”
The Princess’ ears flattened against her purple and blue stubble. “Yeah.” She bit her lip. Her horn glowed gold, then dimmed.
Grover tapped his pen on the page resting in the folder. The Reichstone helped prop it up in front of his beak. The Princess slowly lifted a hind leg and stepped back. She spared a look at the guards. Her horn glowed again. Grover felt the static in the air as the spell charged. Teleport, he assumed.
“Kaiser,” Flurry nodded formally, as if they weren’t just talking about ice cream and illicit letters. Grover spared a nod back.
“Princess.” He just had to say it.
The griffon snapped the folder shut, then rolled off the bench with folded wings. The alicorn cut the spell off from the sudden movement. Grover landed on all fours, then shoved the folder into the pack with the pens and pencils.
“Where were you flying to?” he asked casually in Herzlander.
“Uh…” Flurry hesitated. “Down.”
“To the army camp?” Grover clarified. The Reichsarmee had a base camp of mechanized and armored vehicles down the mountain, all the tanks and equipment that was too risky to bring up the mountain road. Most of Canterlot’s roads were too narrow.
“I mean,” Flurry flicked her ears, “in that direction, I guess.”
“I have not left the city in over a week,” Grover said idly. “I should check on the armored core.” He shrugged off his long coat, weaving his wings through the slits and laying it on the bench after refolding it. He reached back with a claw and unclipped the straps of his holster, pulling the holstered pistol off his pressed, tan dress shirt.
Flurry stepped back again and looked away with a scrunched muzzle. Grover glanced at her and tried to guess her expression. Muzzles were supposed to be easier to read than beaks, but ponies shifted through emotions like cutie marks too quickly.
Sir Ewing coughed into a gauntlet. “My Kaiser,” he offered. “Allow us to assemble an escort-”
“Stay with the crown,” Grover ordered.
The knights looked between the Reichstone and the Kaiser.
You think I can wear that damn thing while flying? Grover leaned down and hid his rolling eyes while he unlaced his dress shoes. He set them atop the bench with his silk socks, then flexed bare paws atop the smooth stones.
That wasn’t truly necessary to fly, and neither was undoing his dress shirt, but Grover found himself unbuttoning the long-sleeved, tan shirt as well. He folded it and left it atop the coat. The golden cuff links glinted in the afternoon sun, next to the Reichstone.
Now only in his dress slacks and a tight white undershirt, Grover grabbed the holster and threaded it back under his left wing. He adjusted the straps and tied them tight, making sure the pistol was in easy claw reach. As a final check, he undid the clip and checked the breech and magazine before sliding it back into place.
Flurry shuffled her hooves. She had turned around and stared at the hedgerow. “Equestrians don’t wear clothes for a reason,” she muttered.
“Are you planning to be naked for the coronation?” Grover asked mirthlessly.
“No, Twilight wore a dress. I have my military uniform.”
“The one that was falling apart?”
“Rarity fixed it.” Flurry turned around and looked down at him. Her muzzle offered no visible reaction.
Grover’s undershirt was sleeveless, fully exposing his arms. It was tucked into his monogramed slacks with a belt. The griffon ignored that his beak barely reached the bottom of the alicorn’s muzzle. He adjusted his glasses.
Then paused.
Grover took a deep breath and unhooked them from his head feathers and folded the frame. He sat down onto his hind paws, reaching into a pocket and pulling out their case. Grover flicked his eyes up to Flurry; she was close enough that his nearsightedness wasn’t an issue. He flipped the case over and plucked his flight goggles out, looping the strap over a wrist while he packed his glasses away.
Grover snapped the goggles over his head and pulled them down after rubbing the lenses on his shirt. He blinked under them. Flurry said nothing. Her cheeks were pursed.
Laugh.
The griffon’s feathers flared out, then he shifted his glare to the hedge. “Sir Ewing, Sir Erreck, collect my things and remain.”
“My Kaiser-”
“That is an order,” Grover snarled. His voice cracked. “Return to the castle. You can tell Benito I am with the tanks.”
Sir Erreck clasped his claw to his chest plate first. “As you command.”
Flurry squinted at the hedge maze, and her horn glowed. The glow increased to a torch.
The piece of the hedge burst into blue flame that blasted into ash in a blink. Flurry clicked her tongue and walked through the hole, then blasted another hole into the next wall beyond it. Grover watched her long-legged stride for a moment, then followed.
“You can just fly over it,” he pointed out.
The Princess extended her massive wings. She made the next hole larger so she could fit her entire wingspan through it. “Eh,” she snorted over her left wing. “I’m tearing it down anyway. Head start.” The alicorn punched through every hedge wall until she was back in the proper gardens, leaving a straight line of holes behind her.
Flurry trotted to the edge of the hanging gardens. There was a tall railing and the wind blew stronger beyond without the trees or anything blocking the gales. Canterlot was high up enough that a few errant clouds broke apart in the horizon. The alicorn stared west, towards the Celestial Plain. The horizon depressed into a bowl.
Grover leaned his claws on the rail two wingspans away from the Princess. He looked down the mountain. Several waterfalls tumbled down green fissures, refracting into rainbows from the sunlight hitting the mountain. The rivers that ran from Canterlot spread through the Equestrian Heartland.
Grover the Great had picked Griffenheim’s location because it was central to his new empire, as opposed to his birthplace of Griffonstone in the mountains. His bastard son Guto had worked ably with the trueborn Grover II to keep the birthplace of Griffonkind from declining in the Reich. But now it was a ruin, the wingpit of Griffonia. Grover looked south, picking out the forests of the expanded Everfree.
Not like their old capital did any better. What happened to the world?
Flurry reared up and leaned her forehooves on the railing. She peered down and clicked her tongue. “You never done this before?” she asked in confirmation.
“I am a griffon,” Grover scoffed. “I know how to fly.”
“Princess!” a mare screamed behind them. Both turned around and looked over their extended wings. A pegasus waved wildly in a purple uniform, summoning more guards to her position. One of the patrolling knight teams paused beside the mare, then stared over at their Kaiser.
“Then you’ll have no problem beating me to the base of Canterhorn,” Flurry said quickly. The alicorn gracelessly heaved herself over the railing and pressed her wings against her sides. She fell like an artillery round down the mountain.
Grover stared.
His claws clenched the railing and he flung himself after her.
The griffon copied the alicorn’s movement, folding his wings against his side to narrow his frame. The wind ripped past his feathers and fur, pressing his goggles to his head. The mountain slope rapidly approached, and he curved his wings to catch the wind peeling down the mountain. He looked up, squinting for the Princess.
Her wings are massive. She can’t be hard to spot.
Flurry was ahead of him, but not as far ahead as he expected. She had flared out her wings to catch the downdrafts from the wind, following the crags in the mountain with slow twists. Grover traced her movements. She was fast, faster than she should be with that wingspan, but her turns were slow.
Grover spun down into the crags and followed a river, using the added pressure difference between the wind and the water for extra speed. He lost sight of Flurry, taking another route down. Grover skimmed the top of the river as it reached a waterfall. It took him a moment to close his beak, belatedly realizing he was smiling.
Flurry burst out of the waterfall below him with a laugh, having spiraled through a lower crag and crashed through the falling water. She flapped her wings as the droplets caught the sunlight. She flapped her wings several more times as she descended, trying to dry the feathers out.
Grover folded his wings and dived past her. He flipped around onto his back, nearly clipping the alicorn’s horn and flashed two talons at her shocked muzzle before he realized that he just flipped off the Princess.
She has hooves. She probably doesn’t know-
“Hey!” a voice belted out above him.
Grover squawked in a laugh. He actually hoped she heard it. The Kaiser twisted down another crag to follow a stream, dodging between exposed rocks and following the water. He sensed the presence above him and rolled mid-air just as he hit another waterfall.
Flurry skimmed through the water, kicking up a massive splash with a curled wing. Grover felt the impact along his left hind leg, but she failed to dampen his wings. She flapped again, trying to clear the water from her soaked feathers.
Grover didn’t flash his claws this time; he dived towards the base of the mountain. The army base was easily in view, and he picked out the several rows of tanks and the checkpoint at the bottom of the road. Flying patrols of Reichsarmee soldiers scanned the surrounding area.
Grover bent his head down to check. The Princess was behind him, waterlogged. But she was close enough he could see her scowl. Grover flapped once, trying to sense a better downdraft. He found it to his left and let the wind spiral him, curving one wing to gain speed before flaring his wings and firing like a bullet towards the farthest line of tanks. He was close enough to make out the models.
He was also close enough to see the two patrols unslinging their rifles and shouting warnings up at him. Grover flapped out his wings and reared, arresting his forward momentum. It still took him several seconds to bleed speed, and he was within earshot when he finally stopped and hovered midair.
“Halt! Remain where you are!” a Reichsarmee Corporal shouted in Herzlander. He repeated the warning in Equestrian. Grover stared at the grey uniform, then to the orange armband with his black roaring griffon proudly displayed.
The soldiers weren’t aiming at him, but their rifles were aiming in his direction, primed and ready for action. The greenish griffoness to the Corporal’s left looked up and her eyes widened. She mouthed something to her commander and he followed her stare. Both griffons backed up, and the other squad mirrored the movement.
Flurry Heart stopped above Grover, flaring out her wings and spiraling around him. “Hah!” she huffed. “I thought you’d be slow, nerdbird.” Her wings were still wet and droplets flew from the feathers.
Grover stared at his soldiers. He ignored the Princess and flapped towards them. The soldiers swayed mid-air, trading glances between the approaching pony and griffon. Their rifles now hung pointed downwards, held loosely in claws.
The green griffonness’ eyes widened into saucers at Grover. She brought her claw up to her chest and pounded it. “My Kaiser!” she screeched. Her corporal blinked, then frantically followed her example. The others squawked out the call in surprise a moment after him.
“My Kaiser!”
Grover raised his beak and took a gulping breath as he flew under them, towards the tanks. “Dismissed!” he crowed out. He heard wing flaps as they scrambled to resume their flight path.
Grover landed atop a Gunnhildur’s turret in the closest line of tanks. A few engineers roamed the ground nearby, but they packed up and left at the second set of wings approaching. Flurry landed atop the tank beside him.
Grover took a deep breath and swallowed. Sweat laced his fur. It wasn’t a truly strenuous flight, but he was winded.
Flurry Heart scuffed a hoof on the turret. “Not bad,” she complimented in her usual tone. Her chest pulled in and out under her jumpsuit as she breathed through her nose.
She was completely fine.
The alicorn stretched out her wings, eyeing the water in her feathers. She stuck out her tongue and her horn glowed. Blue fire raced across her wings, spiraling out from her horn, then crackling off into embers at her wingtips. The Princess refolded her dry wings against her jumpsuit.
“You…” Grover paused and took a breath. “You held back.”
Flurry reached up a hoof and lowered her head. She tapped her horn. “I can just teleport. I wanted to have fun.” She shrugged her hoof before clomping it down onto the turret. “You won.”
Grover looked up to the retreating patrol. It was clear who they actually recognized first, even with his picture in postcards and placards and newspapers and newsreels. Even with the beak all his ancestors had. The Kaiser took a deep breath atop the tank.
“Are these the tanks from the battle?” Flurry asked. She looked around at the camp. A few patrols had stopped to stare, but they quickly moved on at her sweeping gaze.
“No,” Grover ground out. “Those are in the field. These are from my personal brigade.”
Flurry frowned. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, from Stalliongrad?”
“From Griffenheim,” Grover answered shortly.
Flurry stared down at the tank at her hooves. She did not respond. Her horn glowed, and she looked around as her lips pressed into a line. Grover stared at her as she closed her eyes, seemingly concentrating on something.
Grover waited for the static in the air to signal a teleport, but nothing happened. She flapped her wings, still with her eyes closed and hopped onto another tank. Then another a minute later. Her horn moved in a slow wave, still glowing with a soft light.
Flurry Heart stopped atop the third tank from the left. Her wings jittered, then she opened her eyes. She stared across eight turrets to Grover. It had been several minutes, and the Kaiser’s breathing had slowed.
“I’ve never been inside a tank,” she called out.
“I’ve seen what passed for an Equestrian tank,” Grover responded.
Flurry looked to the side. “Yeah. I heard you test drive your stuff.”
“I do,” Grover stated. He pulled his goggles up and squinted at the blurry alicorn for a moment, then pulled out his glasses case.
“I rode one of these, but Bronzetail never gave me a tour,” Flurry said.
“There’s hardly anything to tour,” Grover squawked. “It’s a machine. A weapon.”
The Princess said something lost to the distance between them, then raised her voice. “You can show me. If you want to.”
Grover paused with his goggles in one claw and his glasses in the other. He looked up across the tanks to the alicorn. She was too far way to make out her expression without his glasses, just like outside Stalliongrad with the massive shield between them. Grover rolled his eyes and stuffed his goggles in the case.
He turned away and hooked his glasses into his feathers, resting them on his beak. “I am sure-”
“Should you fail, your family’s life is forfeit. Do you understand, Frederick?”
He clacked his beak shut.
Grover heaved. He stood in the center of a totally destroyed bedroom. The engraved bedposts had been scoured, the dresser collapsed with drawers shattered into splinters, pillows and curtains and linens clawed apart with down and feathers spilling across the floor.
Grover could not see a single cursed scrap of that damn letter. Benito swallowed in the doorway; his ears folded against his head. “My Kaiser?”
“We proceed,” Grover snarled, “as previously ordered.” His tan head feathers flared out in instinctive aggression. The Reichstone had been launched into the bedside table. The heavy gold hammered through the wood, but the filigrees would need repair. Grover would have to wear one of the cheaper doubles for the time being…but they were lighter anyways.
Benito clasped a paw to his chest. “We…” the dog paused. “The courier is waiting under guard. And his family is still-”
Grover whirled at the dog, beak open in a roar. “Take those fucking traitors-” his voice strangled out as a bare paw slipped on a chunk of blank paper. It was one of the corners. Grover kicked it away and squeezed his eyes shut. He had lost his glasses at some point, and his claws were bruised.
The Kaiser’s wings shook against his sides with suppressed rage. “Get them the fuck out of my empire. They are banished. Drive them to the River Federation’s border and dump them there.”
Benito slowly nodded. “As you command, my Kaiser.” The dog pulled the door shut with a lingering stare, leaving Grover alone in his destroyed bedroom.
Several minutes passed in silence. Grover opened his eyes. “Fine,” he said to himself.
The griffon twisted back around atop the turret. Flurry Heart was looking to the side. “Is there a reason you are standing on that tank?” he called out to her in a strained voice.
The alicorn nodded.
“We mass produce them,” Grover explained in a snarl. “Surely that concept is not beyond you. Equestria was not that far behind. One is like the other.”
Flurry mouthed something, then shook her head. “I’ll tell you inside.”
Grover flapped his wings, leaping between the turrets with outstretched claws. The alicorn moved to the side to make room, stepping off the turret onto the chassis. The griffon landed beside her and reached down, tugging on the hatch.
He twisted the latch counter-clockwise and wrenched it open with both claws. “It locks on the inside to prevent boarders from reaching the crew,” Grover explained in a reverberating growl. “Not that it would stop you.”
Flurry Heart did not respond.
“You first,” Grover said. “Watch the wings. It is not built for a pony.”
Flurry slowly moved to the hatch. She lowered her rear legs into it first, shuffling with her wings pressed tightly against the jumpsuit. Grover held the hatch up. She slid downwards as her hooves slipped and her muzzle nearly brushed against his beak.
Grover glared down at her as she stuffed her forelegs into the interior. Flurry’s horn was angled towards his neck, sharp horn tip only two hooves away from his fur. The alicorn looked down into the tank with icy eyes. She visibly shuffled herself out of the way and disappeared towards the driver’s seat. There was a clang as she bumped up against something.
The Kaiser of the Griffonian Reich looked up and down at the rows of his tanks, then at the patrols circling his army camp. A few mechanics and ground crews wandered among the other rows, but without the alicorn standing next to him, the tan and brown griffon looked like everyone else.
Grover’s blunted claws tightened around the hatch. The shuffling inside had stopped as Flurry apparently found a somewhat comfortable spot. Not that it seems to matter. She’s an alicorn.
Grover von Greifenstein climbed down into the tank and yanked the hatch shut.
Stats
Page generated in 0.036 seconds
Total duration
793 users online
653,372 hits today, 2,244,100 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Okay, Grover and Flurry flying around was actually just adorable. And things are starting to get a bit heated between the two.
11594259
"Heated" can mean many different things in regards to them.
The issue with writing two headstrong, stubborn, determined orphan teenagers that are effectively absolute monarchs is that no one is available to make them communicate with each other. They have to do it on their own. And it took a lot to justify it. Grover had his moment in the Nightmare's tower, descending into full Macbeth. Flurry just had her ultimate test on her fraying morals. They are leaders...and teenagers. They'll talk about ice cream and dodge responsibilities.
It's important to note how many times in this chapter they forced themselves to keep talking to each other. Flurry's gone to Grover in the past. He sought her out this time. For behind the scenes, the "twist" early in the story with Grover 'Sending in the Tanks' and Flurry Heart refusing because of it was always in the earliest outlines. I massively underestimated the amount of words it would take to properly address that situation afterwards without it being cheap. They had to go through a lot emotionally before they're willing to shove aside their egos and actually talk.
Their fly together was cute, glad to see them cut lose and ignore their responsibilities for once. Unironically, this might be the actual first time Grover's relaxed since he set foot on the continent. Wonder if their talk in there will be serious, lighthearted, or a mixture of the two. I'm thinking mixture, leaning more serious.
So much to say about this, so much to love about it...
I'll settle for observing that we readers can appreciate a great deal more due to the multiple viewpoints.
We see that Grover cannot comprehend what it means for Flurry to scrutinize the tanks they're standing on, but we know about Flurry's hitherto secret ability and the importance of these tanks coming from Griffonstone.
She knows which tanks are Tiananmen Square tanks.
And if I'm reading the mood correctly, she's about to confide once again in her former confidant now that they're alone with each other for the first time.
As often as we see the two tentatively reaching out in their own way to one another, it's clear that they crave a reconnection.
I just hope neither of them blow it.
They've cleared the air after their mutual betrayals and can joke between themselves, but they still seem sensitive to genuine slights from one another.
Think about it. There not adults. There teenagers. Sure all the responsibilities of the world are on there heads but there kids really. There not supposed to be serious. There supposed to be enjoying life. Not be killers. Let them have there fun.
Even though the other option would have been funnier, I guess the romance tag was the proper choice.
Good chapter.
Btw my head cannon for Celestia and Luna in this story is that, like in the game(if certain choices are made), Celestia got very close to turning to Daybreaker. However when she choose not to turn, it cost Equestria the war, for better or for worse. Celestia is still a very mean gal capable of unleashing unseen levels of power, but her kindness is her weakness.
11594308
This was good for them both, and this might help with pony griffin relations in a "if they can play together, why can't our cubs and chicks do the same" kind of way
Honestly one of the best chapter I've read this far. I think It's actually the first time with see Grover and Flurry just casually have fun together and not act or talk in the power play they usually do.
And even with this momentary happy time we still see how their past actions always haunt them. Its heartwarming to see them have fun and it make it hurt even more when their past actions come back to break the bound.
How a single decision changed everything. If Grover hadn't chooseen to send in the tanks everything would have been so different. Maybe no hate between each other but also no war.
Flurry and Grover story is tragic and I just love this. For a fan of Shakespear Grover should be honored to have a real shakespearean tragedy as a life.
It's almost like their first date...
i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/424/469/752
Though they are likely to talk about some real heavy crap, it's funny to think she lured him alone just cuz she likes him
11594274
They have a lot they should talk about.
11594290
I might question how many of the "slights" are genuine, especially on Grover's end. He had fun during the race, but Flurry's casual drying of her feathers slammed it back to perspective. Is "nerdbird" a slight from her? She's pretty chill with personal insults flung at her, but she'll reciprocate.
11594656
I think "My Stupid Birthday Plans" scrawled in his personal notes tells you everything about Grover VI in a single moment.
11594308
Considering that Flurry dodged a meeting and then actively ran away from her guards in the middle of a war...they don't really get to have fun. It's wildly irresponsible. The fact that Grover talked her out of it, then talked her back into it speaks volumes.
11594763
First Date:
Flurry: I am running away from my guards. You wanna fling yourself down a mountain?
Grover: My tanks are at the bottom of the mountain, so sure.
11594844
Ah, young love... He will impress her with his LEET driving skills...
media.tenor.com/YI_b0w9NxvQAAAAC/tank.gif
Then she will want a turn...
media.tenor.com/MAJ_An6JbikAAAAC/tank-tanks.gif
Better 1st date than most get!
11594844
I'm referring to their previous meetings.
Just about every one had something said or alluded to that cut deep or was extra personal.
I seem to recall one where even Benito basically went "Kaiser, Bro, not cool."
In fact, wasn't that their last meeting, when Twilight's message was being filmed?
So yeah, this most recent one was definitely of the more friendly teasing type, rather than hurtfully needlesome.
You certainly succeeded in conveying so with your writing.
Goodness this has been wonderful to finally see. Grover flipping off Flurry, both of them laughing with each other while flying might be one of the best parts of the whole story.
Twilight has to be smiling in her coma.
Hopefully it only gets better from here for these two.
That was pretty cute, though tbh I feel like I'm missing a lot of subtleties or subtext in the two's relationship. Is that cause I'm bad at reading social cues or is it supposed to be something to decipher?
What's about next chapter?
11598466
We watch,we wait.
Flurry can sense weapons and can be as emotionless as one as well as being the most powerful one in the battle, but here's a thing she's not feeling anything twords those she kill, but grover on the other hand was enjoying his war , if being emotionless About killing makes flurry mar's daughter,I wonder what grover would be,mar him self.
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA IM FUCKING DYING
hehe I like how this can refer to both insults and courtship of which either or both could apply
since eagles has their the pairs "present" their claws during the "courtship rituals"
so while Grover (from what I think is) "presenting" is his concern
Flurry understood it as an insult (due to her "perhaps" limited understanding of Griffon species and/or culture)
Grover laughing in response is most likely his confirmation that Flurry actually doesn't know
I just find it cute and clever (if this is what you've intended author)
and would be hilarious in hindsight if Flurry later on learns about such
11653157
It's more a joke on "Flipping the Bird," but the courtship angle did cross my mind while writing it.
Which makes it funnier.