Part Ninety-Six
A horn blared, and Grover von Greifenstein winced. The song began to repeat with the fervent pounding of drums. The band below the windows still played with energy and resolve, even though it was the seventh time the Griffonian anthem repeated. Grover spotted the conductor rear against his stand and begin waved an aged claw with enthusiasm.
The dogs trumpeted again to build-up to the crescendo. Grover could not hear his own thoughts, much less any conversation beyond the immediate six tablemates surrounding him. He mentally counted the movements in his head. The strings take the third movement, so it will be quieter.
“I hear the anthem again!” Jacques squawked across from Grover. He nudged Princess Flurry Heart beside him. “You owe me five bits.” The Princess extended a wing and swatted the back of the yellow griffon’s head, not breaking her routine.
Jacques laughed, high and reedy, then noticed the Kaiser watching him and twirled his fork between two talons. “Do they truly play it once for every year you were born?”
“Do not address the Kaiser unless spoken to,” Benito growled from Grover’s right.
“Indeed,” Duke Gerlach agreed on Grover’s left. The Feathisian clacked his beak. “Be grateful you sit at the table, Aquileian.”
“May I address you?” Jacques asked him.
Gerlach tilted his beak up and turned his blind eye towards Jacques. “We have nothing to discuss.”
Jacques waved a claw placatingly, not that the duke could see it. “You are using the wrong fork.” He twirled his own fork. “The bigger fork goes with salads. Unless you are making some statement by using the larger one.”
Gerlach glanced down at his own fork, then slightly angled his head to see what fork Elias was using. The other Feathisian surreptitiously held it up with a chunk of sausage impaled before he tore into it. The noble switched forks with an awkward cough into a silk napkin, patting his beak unconvincingly.
The yellow griffon smirked and dark yellow eyes returned to his own plate. Gerlach’s gray feather ruffled in embarrassment, but the Kaiser did not look to him for the mistake. Instead, Grover chewed on a slice of garlic bread as he considered the griffon across from him.
He did not like Jacques. The Aquileian was slightly rude, as were all of the Princess’ griffons, but that was not the crux of the issue. ‘Jacques’ was a code name used by the agents of the Second Aquileian Republic when they planned their revolution. The ‘Jacques’ was usually given a number when reporting in. The yellow griffon across from the Kaiser matched none of the known high-level agents that went into exile, but Grover was certain Jacques wasn’t his real name.
I do not like mysteries I cannot solve. Grover swallowed. Jacques spoke Aquileian with a noble accent from Aquila itself, but with the twang of a Greifwalder on the periphery. Some of the Feathisian pronunciation slipped in, most notable when sitting near Elias and Gerlach. He may have learned the proper pronunciation in his role as a spy, but Grover suspected he was not too important. A light yellow griffon was not that uncommon, but the brown accents in his wings and under his eyes would make him stand out. His eyes were not a common gold either; they were yellow, a sickly yellow a shade that reminded Grover of fool's gold.
Jacques carefully cut apart his sausage with the proper knife and fork. He dipped it into the provided gravy before smoothly leaning it into his beak. The griffon swallowed once, then raised two talons to signal a server. A young griffoness in a white and black frilled skirt stepped forward from the hovering crowd around the high table.
“May I have more mashed potatoes, young miss?” Jacques requested in polite, vexing Aquileian.
“Of course,” the griffoness demurred. She crossed to the openings in the clusters of seats and grabbed the large ladle sitting in the plate of spiced potatoes from the Evi Valley. She set it on a carrying plate and balanced the serving on her wing, leaving the spoon behind.
A chime of magic sounded and a glob of mashed potatoes rose up from the large bowl. It zipped past the griffoness’ head as her eyes widened. The conversation muffled by the band dipped as the floating mass passed by the Reich’s nobility and high command.
The mashed potatoes plopped down on the Princess’ dirty plate, covering what was left of a mix of asparagus, green beans, and red peppers. Flurry rubbed her boots against the gilded tablecloth, and her horn glowed again. Part of the glob rocketed into her muzzle. She chewed with puffed lips.
Countess Raison to the Princess’ left snorted in disgust. Her own horn glowed blue as she poked the remainders of a salad with a fork. She mouthed, “Blessed Boreas,” under the music.
Flurry clearly heard her from the way her ear flicked. She stretched her left wing out and forced the countess to lean to the side to avoid being swatted with the feathers. She pulled her wing back in after feigning a stretch.
The alicorn was slouched in her seat; she appeared to be Grover’s height. Though the cushions had been provided that the alicorn might sit on her haunches, her hind legs dangled below the table at what should have been a torturously bent angle as she sat like a minotaur. If it was uncomfortable, she gave no indication. She left her white boots on, and her cutlery untouched.
Benito had not ceased staring at her the entire dinner. The dog ate only by lifting food up to his stationary muzzle, and Grover suspected he was not blinking very often by the way his brown eyes reddened as the feast dragged on. Flurry stared back placidly sometimes, but mostly busied herself stealing food off the portion plates within the reach of her horn.
Grover glanced down at the untouched salad left in between Jacques and Flurry. “Is the salad not to your liking, Princess?” he asked deferentially in Equestrian.
“It’s fine, Kaiser Grover,” Flurry returned in Equestrian. “But if I wanted salad, I could get one from my own subjects.”
“The strawberries are from the Duchy of Strawberry,” Grover pointed to one with a fork. “It was preserved with magic for the trip.”
Flurry nodded. The salad was picked up and thrust into the claws of the server that just gave Jacques the plate of mashed potatoes. The griffoness recoiled and nearly dropped it. “Must suck standing around all the food and not being able to eat it,” the Princess said around a muzzle full of mashed potatoes. “You can have it.”
“Do not feed the servants,” Benito growled. The dog had unbuttoned the collar of his gray shirt. He gripped a knife tightly in a gloved paw. “Throw it away,” he ordered to the griffoness.
She nodded rapidly and stepped back from the table. The others in the flock of guards and serving griffons parted to let her through, and she flapped her wings to fly over the lower bench tables to one of the side doors. The orange and black banners of the Griffonian Reich hung limply from the rafters; she swept around them, giving the cloth a wide birth.
Grover twisted back to his own black war banner hanging in front of the window behind him. The ponies had plans to tear apart this dining hall like its double on the other wing of the castle, but work had stopped for the birthday celebration. Grover leaned back in the high chair to see around Benito. The end of the table with his officers laughed amongst themselves. Mudbeak seemed to enjoy being pulled from the southern front; the old griffon sipped wine with aplomb.
The song restarted again. This is a farce, Grover snarled in his mind. The advance had all but stalled as officers traveled to Canterlot for the celebration. The castle had been thoroughly gutted, and the look of disappointment in the eyes of some of the Reichsarmee’s leadership made his feathers flush. I would welcome Banquo’s ghost to torment these halls.
“So,” Flurry chewed, “was Jacques right?”
“Were you not taught to use utensils?” Raison d’Etat finally spat in Aquileian. She tossed her blonde mane back. “Does Equestria’s penchant for nudity extend to lack of table manners as well?”
“I have a horn,” Flurry retorted. She spun the purple cap atop her head around with a flick as a reminder for the unicorn. “You want me to pick up a fork in my magic, or just pick up the food itself?”
“You may use your hooves, Princess,” Elias leaned forward in an attempt to defuse the argument. The Field Marshal’s dress uniform was speckled with medals like his fur and feathers beneath it. He poked at his food now, probably winded at the fourth course.
“Our hooves touch the ground all the time,” Flurry dismissed. “Now, I didn’t see many of you washing your claws, but I’d rather use my wings before my hooves.” A large wing curled around and two primary feathers bent and scooped up the knife. Her other wing grabbed a fork.
Slouched in the chair, her wings curved above her horn from the wing joints, making the Princess look like an oversized pink gargoyle looming over the table. She ate through the mashed potatoes with hooded eyes. Jacques and Raison leaned away from the shifting wings before Flurry set the cutlery down atop the plate.
“Quite dexterous,” Elias said, nonplussed.
Flurry refolded her wings. She scanned the table after stretching her neck and levitated over a piece of meat. It dripped with sauce, but she formed a small golden bowl as it floated over the heads. Her muzzle scrunched as she set it down in front of her; two nostrils flared at the smell. “Is this chicken?”
“Yes?” Jacques leaned over. “Looks like a good wing.”
“Katerin is known for it’s farms and harvests,” Grover supplied. “And livestock.”
Flurry looked up and down the table at the griffons. She bit her lip. “And,” she pitched her voice slightly higher, “you eat chickens?”
“Of course,” Duke Gerlach took the bait with a clacking beak, “you think because we are griffons we do not eat other birds? How many of your recipes use eggs?”
Flurry shrugged. “I thought it was just the Nova frontier.” The grilled chicken wing abruptly flew into her muzzle and she clamped down with a horrific crunch.
Grover gestured with a talon to the picked clean wings on a plate before him waiting to be taken away by a servant. “We do not eat the bones, Princess. And some do not like the skin.”
Flurry crunched away, working her jaw side-to-side as flat, herbivorous teeth rent down bone and gristle. “I like the bones,” she said around a mouthful. “Alicorn. Can’t be picky on the frontier.” She spat out shards of bones onto the plate, but most had been grinded down.
Grover took his own chicken wing and tore though the meat with the tip of his beak. He swallowed it back down after rending it into small chunks. Flurry Heart stole a slice of bread and wrapped peppers into it before cramming the makeshift sandwich into her muzzle to the barely hidden disgust of the table.
The Kaiser finished before she did and he set the stripped wing down. “The anthem is played once for every birthday. As I am seventeen, it is played seventeen times.”
Flurry nodded, pink muzzle slightly pinker due to the peppers.
Grover turned to Jacques. “Where are you from?”
“Oh?” Jacques chuckled. He eyed Benito’s snarl and dipped his head, setting his knife and fork down. Compared to Flurry’s debris, her guest’s plates were immaculate, even with the servings properly separated on the plates. “I am Aquiliean.”
“From where?”
“Greifwald, dear Kaiser,” Jacques demurred. “Though far from the Feathisian border. I lived closer to Adelart.”
“Dear Gods,” Elias muttered. "Count Cloudet is a fop and coward. Too afraid to even come here. He rejected the Reich only to crawl before the Kaiser when Aquileia stole his lands."
"Almost makes republicans seem reasonable," Gerlach commented.
“How did you meet the Princess?” Grover continued. “In Aquileia?”
“I’m a mailgriff; I was assigned to her lovely ghetto in Weter,” Jacques said placidly. His eye turned from his Princess to Grover, then rolled in a challenge.
Grover leaned back as the anthem moved into a slightly quieter movement. “Your name is not Jacques.”
“It is now,” Jacques chuckled.
Flurry raised a brow and swallowed. She panted for a moment due to the peppers. “What’s your actual name?”
Jacques offered her his own half-filled glass. She accepted it and chugged the water down, leaving her untouched glass of water and an unfilled wine glass beside her left boot. “Does it matter?” he shrugged a claw. “Nestor Bernier.”
Elias squawked, “You are not the Maar-Mad Bomber.”
“I liked his books,” Jacques replied, head feathers flexing with indignation. “The Prelate of Greifwald lied about the Maar worshipping charges.”
Flurry licked her lips. “Context, please?”
“Your guest is an anarchist, Princess,” Grover answered. “Griefwald was known for a terrorist organization near the Adelart Woods. We've suppressed it now, and Count Cloudet rules...” he paused. "Adequately."
Flurry glanced at her companion. “I thought you were a republican?”
“Same thing,” Jacques shrugged.
“No.”
“It is to griffons!” Jacques retorted with a harsh laugh. He raised two talons again and requested Aquileian pasta from the servant, still chuckling. After she left, he added, “I mailed bombs to griffons. Didn’t kill the prelate, unfortunately.”
Flurry twisted a boot up and rested her muzzle atop it. “You went from bombing mail to delivering it?”
“I enjoyed the irony,” Jacques shrugged. “Anyway, yes, I worked as an agent of the revolution the first time around. Less so the second. They couldn’t turn away help.”
The Kaiser reassessed his age; his yellow feathers had a few streaks of gray around the head, but not many. "How old are you?"
"Old enough to know better." A pink wing swatted the back of his head. "I was born twenty years before the first revolution."
"Rebellion," Duke Gerlach corrected.
"Just so," Jacques said in Herzlander. "I suppose you might say I was radicalized by the fires."
That makes him older than Benito. Grover motioned for his plate to be removed. Servants rushed forward quickly to bring the next course, a gilded porcelain piece with a long, well-seared steak garnished with herbs. The griffon picked up a sharp steak knife after resettling the Reichstone with an elbow. “Would you like a slice, Princess? Hydra tastes of fish. Each head is said to have a different texture.”
“I’ll pass, Kaiser,” Flurry set her hoof down. She perked up as a servant approached, balancing a platter on his outstretched wings. Two fizzlepop colas shifted about, fresh with ice and condensation.
The griffon barely had time to say, “As requested…” before they rocketed off the platter in a golden aura. Flurry set one atop the table and raised the second to her horn, using the tip to snap the bottle cap off. It went sailing back behind her chair.
The soda began to fizz over from the rough treatment; purple bubbles ran down the side of the glass bottle. Flurry gasped and clamped her muzzle atop the bottleneck, cheeks puffed out from the foam. She tilted her head back to chug, pink neck flexing.
“Blessed Boreas,” Benito whispered under his breath. “Nearly pink as a pig and eats like one.”
Grover clasped his claws under his beak, momentarily letting the steak cool. The anthem of his Griffonian Reich ended, and the band switch to a more festive waltz as an interlude. He could hear the riotous squawking and screeching from the long tables in the dining hall; all the lower officers and less-distinguished guests benched together according to rank and accomplishments.
He had already personally thanked a tank commander that destroyed two dozen panzers, plus the sergeant of a squad that took a bridge before it could be blown. According to the list tucked beside his chair, Grover only had another 114 more to address.
Well, they address me, Grover amended. All he had to do was nod the Reichstone and look sufficiently imperious. Serving the Reich was its own reward, and acknowledgement from the Kaiser was the best a common griffon could hope for.
Gallus was absent from the high table, sitting with Gilda and the Element of Loyalty somewhere in the riotous laughter. You would think a blue griffon would be easy to spot in a crowd. From what little he could see around the brackets of servants and guards attending him, his griffons were tan, brown, yellow, orange, and a few speckles of green, blue, and red. Nearly a rainbow.
Flurry Heart belched after setting down the soda. She dabbed the napkin to her muzzle afterwards. “I apologize,” she said with a far too earnest blink. Benito huffed.
The alicorn rolled back her navy sleeve to check a watch, then her horn glowed. Conversation dulled as the magical wave blasted through the hall. Grover felt his feathers prickle at the detection spell. Dialogue gradually resumed as the Princess snagged a bread roll with a small bite taken out of it off Jacques’ side plate.
Grover looked to her untouched glass of water, the unfilled wine glass, and her plate. Flurry stole the sodas before the servants could open them, stole food off the platters before others could touch it, and only took from parts of the platters that others had taken from before her.
She ate nothing that the servants placed before her. It was always conveniently pushed aside after a bout of poor table manners or sometimes ended up closer to Jacques. The griffon sampled some of it as if it was his own plate, then ‘accidentally’ elbowed a large wing several minutes later.
Grover glanced at Benito; the dog hadn’t noticed, too focused on her actions to truly observe. He unhooked his glasses and rubbed the frames with the tablecloth, squinting at Flurry across the table.
She noticed the look and slowed chewing on the roll. A brow raised. What?
Grover flicked a talon at her untouched water, then the soda bottle. He rolled his eyes. Do you think I’m trying to poison you?
Flurry swallowed, shaking her head. No.
Grover rolled his wrist and spun a talon in a circle. Then why?
The alicorn cracked her neck and her eyes drifted to the crowd of servants and guards around the table. Her cold blue eyes lingered on certain griffons before flicking back to Grover. She tilted her head as if inspecting a plate of noodles, but the eyes stayed on the Kaiser. Are you sure they aren’t trying to poison me?
Grover replaced his glasses and leaned back in the chair; he stretched his wings and tried to follow her stare. A few of the servants watched her, but they were supposed to be watching her; she was the most prestigious guest at the table, manners be damned.
His brow furrowed. Two of the servant’s stares weren’t friendly, or even attempting to pretend to be neutral. They could be taking offense at her manners, he considered. They whispered with each other before looking to the Princess. One had a claw stuffed into her apron. She didn’t have a weapon, but she could have been carrying something small, like a vial or…
Grover folded his wings and made eye contact with Flurry. He tapped two talons on the table. Fair. Flurry winked while biting into a pepper. The blink looked like the spice got to her.
Benito shook his head in disgust.
Grover suppressed a smirk. She is very smart at appearing very stupid. He picked up his steak knife with a quick glance at the rafters above the dining hall. The Opinicus order had reported her perfidy in the other dining hall, and the Changelings had not expected a filly to outwit them in the Duskwood.
I suppose we all see what we wish to see, Grover mused as he sliced into a “King” Hydra. It had been supposedly hunted down by the Longsword Order just for his birthday. It was a waste of resources; they could have pounded the damn thing with artillery and been done with it if the beast was a problem.
“New Mareland is being reorganized, Princess,” Grover said after a bite of steak. “We’ve had more success after the victory. Ponies have stepped up.”
Flurry shrugged a wing and began to neck the second fizzlepop soda.
“A pony named Sour Sweet seems promising,” Grover added. “We’ve looked into her. Inherited a company from her father. She has a network of associates ready to help with the integration.”
Flurry’s eyes betrayed no recognition to the name. The bottle was impressively almost empty; the alicorn tilted her head back with the bottle affixed to her muzzle. She continued to chug it while waving a wing for the Kaiser to continue.
“Part of some industrialist society,” Grover finished and returned to cutting the steak. “The Shadowbolts or some-”
He would have continued, if the Princess across him had not sprayed the table with soda. The bottle sailed like a lobbed shell over his head and crown before falling towards the floor. It did not shatter. Sir Geralt caught it with one claw and narrowed yellow eyes. The knights closed in around the table at the commotion.
The Griffonian side of the table began to growl or squawk, but the sight of Princess Flurry hammering her chest with a boot while soda dripped out of her nose checked them. She lost her hat in the violent spit take, landing in Jacques’ pasta. She gasped several times. The plate of mashed potatoes before her was more soda than potato.
“What…” she coughed. “What was that name again?”
Conversation halted at the high table. Benito pushed his chair back to stand, but Grover reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “The Shadowbolt Society, I believe,” he repeated. “Do you know of them, Princess?” The dog sat back down with a huff.
Flurry narrowed her eyes. She mumbled, “Guess that wasn’t in the Friendship Journal,” before turning her head around and inhaling. “Rainbow!”
This time, conversation halted in the entire dining hall. Even the band stopped their rendition of the Griffonian anthem with warbling trumpet. The conductor flinched and dropped his music sheets. There was a heartbeat of intense silence.
“Yeah!?” a voice warbled up from somewhere in the benches.
“Get up here,” Flurry belted. “Your Princess commands it.”
Grover idly noted that the banners hanging from the rafters swung with the chandeliers from the Royal Voice. Must be a magical component more than volume. He snapped his claw above his head, and the knights broke rank around the table.
Not that it was necessary. Rainbow Dash flew over the cordon and landed in her flight jacket. There were sauce stains on the cuffs, but the pegasus was otherwise decently presentable with a Wonderbolts dress uniform on underneath the fake leather.
The pegasus bowed. Her sunglasses were nestled into the front of her rainbow mohawk for safe-keeping. “Princess? And, uh, Kaiser?”
“Rise,” Flurry snorted. “Enjoying the party?”
“Gilda tells me the ice cream is really good,” Rainbow answered. “Haven’t seen it yet.”
Flurry gave Grover a side-eye. “Neither have I.” She cleared her throat. “Shadowbolts.”
Rainbow hesitated. “What about ‘em?”
“There’s a group called the Shadowbolts in New Mareland,” Flurry explained.
“Hay, what the fuck?” the pegasus spat. “Really? Come on!”
“Language,” Flurry chided. “Please, explain to Kaiser Grover.” She twisted back around and dipped her horn in his direction. “If that’s acceptable to you.”
Grover waved his claw. “Element of Loyalty, approach.” Rainbow Dash bit her lip and glanced at Elias Bronzetail a few seats down, then took a deep breath. She trotted forward and squeezed between Jacques and Flurry Heart.
“Uh, Kaiser.” She bowed her head slightly. “Yeah, uh, Nightmare Moon tried to buy my loyalty with Shadowbolts before we kicked her flank back into being Luna.”
Grover hummed and rested his claws under his beak. “I don’t recall reading this in the Friendship Journal. You all faced tests or some sort, yes?”
“I had to fix the bridge to the Castle of the Two Sisters,” Rainbow explained with nervous magenta eyes. She scuffed a rear hoof on the floor. “Flew down there and she appeared all spooky and weird. Said I could be her Shadowbolt and I told her to fuck off.”
Flurry snorted.
“Okay,” Rainbow amended, “I didn’t use that language but that was the gist of it.”
Grover tilted his head. His beak opened and closed for a moment. “Nightmare Moon had you cornered and alone…and just left you?”
“She was pretty stupid,” Rainbow shrugged her metal wing. “I didn’t know the Shadowbolts were an actual thing, though. Thought she just made it up.”
Flurry mirrored the shrug with a hoof. “Nightmare cultists?” she guessed. “Just do whatever you do with Maar worshippers.”
Chiropterra may have influence in New Mareland. Grover nudged Benito with his wing. “Make a note of it. Use a secure channel. Have Grimwing look into Sour Sweet further with the more extreme measures.”
“As you say, my Kaiser,” Benito accepted. The dog reached into his gray jacket and scribbled a reminder into a small brown notebook.
“Thank you, Rainbow,” Flurry said. “You’re dismissed. Tell Gallus and Gilda I said hello.”
The pegasus bowed to the Princess, then hesitated after standing up and awkwardly nodded to Grover. He suppressed rolling his eyes and jerked his head in dismissal. The Element of Loyalty flapped up and above the guards again rather than walk.
Flurry faced Grover and smirked toothily. “First Wind Rider, now Shadowbolts?”
Grover reflexively clenched the grip of the steak knife, then relaxed his claw and pointed the blade at her. “I am attempting to gather all of Equestria’s villains together. Miss Glow rebuffed my offer.”
The alicorn laughed slightly. “Shame. I already stole her and Caballeron.”
“A toast!” Mudbeak trilled from the far end of the table. The old, graying griffon was deep in his cups, and lifted his wine glass for a refill. “A toast to the health of the Kaiser of Griffonkind!”
Grover set his utensils down and straightened himself in the chair, looking sufficiently regal. He wiped his beak as surreptitiously as he could. Griffons, ponies, and dogs stiffened, and an Ironpaw gave a signal to the conductor. The band fell silent with a long violin note hanging in the air.
The other tables continued speaking, but knights pounded on their breastplates along the sides of the hall in a coordinated rhythm. The talk lowered into murmurs as the lesser guests straightened along the benches.
Grover noticed Archon Proteus flap up from one of the bench seats in a simple jumpsuit and frock, having eschewed his vestments in a show of humility. An eye wandered to the photographers along the sides with the knights. No doubt Erion will have to make some show of piety back home to compensate.
Proteus landed with a spread-winged bow before the table, then stood and held out a claw. A servant approached with a fine wine glass, but he quelled her with a look. An Arcturian prelate came forward with a plainer goblet that Proteus accepted. The Archon stopped in one of the gaps before the banquet plates.
Grover gave him a look. He stood before the rice from Brodfeld; one of the bounties traditionally associated with Eyr. Proteus returned the look with smirking eyes, indicating he knew the snub against Archon Erion.
“General Mudbeak,” Proteus intoned with a dip of his head, “you call for a toast.”
“I do, Archon,” Mudbeak accepted. “Please, by all means.”
“Too many have a love of wealth and money,” Proteus began, “and those who place the material above the Gods are doomed to fail. We have won a great victory because of the Gods, and we are led by their chosen vessel.” The Archon lifted his cup to Grover. “Since Grover the Great first flew from Griffonstone, his dynasty is the hope and future of Griffonkind…”
Grover VI tuned him out while he watched the servants fill any empty wine glasses. A griffonness uncorked a new bottle of Strawberry wine and filled the Princess’ empty glass while she sat at attention, staring down the table to Proteus. Jacques accepted a lesser refill of the same Vinovian wine Countess Raison drank.
Flurry’s horn glowed and she shuffled the glass slowly across the linen, over her plates, and left it next to Jacques’ glass. She removed her cap at the same time and smoothed down her short mane. The griffon beside her smoothly switched the glasses with a show of adjusting his cufflink.
If Jacques noticed Grover watching him, he gave no indication. Proteus continued speaking about the need for spiritual guidance in the Griffonian Reich, sneaking in a few barbed insults about the virtuousness of noble blood with tactical glances at Duke Gerlach and Count Ignatius. Grover tolerated Proteus’ speeches the best; they were not overly long.
“The Gods shall guide us to victory in this night, and we shall follow their light in the darkness. To Grover von Greifenstein, sixth of his name, chosen of the Gods!”
Chairs swooped back as the honored guests stood. Grover remained sitting and staring ahead, choosing the spot between Flurry and Jacques without favoring any particular person. Years of practice kept his expression neutral.
Jacques raised his wing glass with a talon, and Flurry raised her own in a sparkling golden aura. Standing, she was the tallest at the table except Benito, Ignatius, and Loudbark. Benito straightened his back with a stiff tail, eyes at one of the banners hanging from the rafters. He lifted the glass to the symbol of Grover II just as much to Grover VI.
“Chosen of the Gods!” the room solemnly declared in Herzlander. Flurry Heart and Jacques mouthed it a second after the rest, not knowing the oath. Grover broke his neutral stare to give her a flat glare. Not your Gods anyway.
Flurry hid a smirk by gulping down the wine. Her eyes widened and wings spasmed. A wing shot out and buffeted Jacques, knocking him to the side with a high squawk. Her other wing clipped Raison’s horn and caused her magic to fumble. The Countess of Vinovia dropped her wine glass into a partially-eaten salad.
The Princess descended into a coughing fit, wine glass sloshing above her head and spilling more wine into the soda already staining the tablecloth in front of her. She trotted in place as all eyes went to her. Jacques recovered from his stumble, and dodged another swipe of her oversized wing.
“That’s…that’s stronger than I thought it’d be,” the alicorn wheezed. “I thought Strawberry wine was sweet?”
Grover watched her wing glass, knowing it was full of Vinovian wine meant for Jacques. And Jacques’ glass was empty from her ‘accidental’ smack before it reached his beak. He didn’t have time to drink it.
Benito growled and the knights tensed around the table. Grover left his claws atop the linen, staring up at the standing alicorn over the rims of his glasses. He frowned deeply.
Flurry’s narrow muzzle frowned in apology. “I’m sorry, Kaiser Grover.” She coughed again and set the glass down.
Grover tipped his beak up. “I believed our Strawberry wine would be sweet enough for an Equestrian’s palate. It appears I was wrong. We don’t mix sugar into everything we eat or drink on Griffonia. Do you drink?”
“This was my first,” Flurry wheezed in a louder voice.
“A good memory,” Grover approved. He raised his voice and enunciated carefully to prevent it from cracking. “The Princess’ first drink was to my health.”
“That explains the cough!” Proteus boomed with a laugh. Tension broken, a few eager-to-please subjects chuckled along. Flurry gave a bashful grin to them before sitting back down.
Grover raised his right claw and the head server approached in a gray tuxedo. The band restarted with the anthem yet again. He whispered out of the side of his beak. “Bring out the ice cream.”
The griffon blinked. “My Kaiser, there are still several courses-” The Kaiser turned to make eye contact. The griffon flushed and backed away with rapid-fire nods.
Flurry stacked her ruined plates high and bit her lip at the stained tablecloth. It was emblazoned with several roaring griffons in gold and silver, brought in from Griffenheim. Her horn flashed and the liquid was sucked out of the fabric into a roiling ball, then dumped into her wine glass.
“An interesting spell,” Elias commented.
“Easy clean up,” Flurry explained. She eyed the mix of soda and wine in her glass with a vaguely disgusted look. “Never really had to learn it in the Empire. Crystal is easy to clean.”
Jacques set his empty wine glass down with a sigh. “I was going to enjoy that. Not as much as my treasured Amontillado. You have cruel wings, Little Flurry.”
“They have a mind of their own,” Flurry returned dryly.
“What flavor of ice cream would you like?” Grover asked. He fiddled with his glasses to give her a subdued glance. I know you know I know.
“Whatever you’d like,” Flurry answered. She blinked coquettishly. Know what?
Benito huffed again beside Grover. He shook his head. “I thought this was supposed to be her best manners,” he muttered out of the side of his muzzle.
Grover opened his beak to say something, then the crescendo of the Griffonian anthem trilled across the hall with blaring horns. He shut his beak with a clack and returned to a dry steak. Some knight probably got eaten in a swamp in Gryphus to kill this thing in my name. He rubbed the slice in gravy before shoving it into his beak.
There were two more toasts to his health before the lower tables were dismissed. Thankfully, the Princess was preoccupied with ice cream so the farce did not need to repeat. The servants cleared the plates before a long line formed running the length of the hall according to rank and accomplishment like it did every year.
Grover remained sitting while every other guest stood at attention. The Reichstone felt heavy again. “Your company and presence has been noted and appreciated,” he announced.
“Now,” Benito continued, “the heroes of the Griffonian Reich may approach to be acknowledged.” He slipped on a small pair of reading glasses out of his jacket and pulled the folder out from under the table. He flicked through it with a paw.
Knight-Captain Wavewing approached Princess Flurry Heart and bowed her head. “Princess, thank you for your company. I shall escort you out.” The burly purple-gray griffoness scuffed a gauntlet on her breastplate while she waited.
Flurry paused. “I can stay, if it pleases the Kaiser.”
Grover suppressed a sigh. “You may leave, Princess. I extend my thanks in the use of your dining hall.”
“It’s a better party than the one I threw,” Flurry offered with a snort.
The Kaiser did not laugh. He waved his wing and looked at the long line of griffons he had only read sterile post-action reports about. There were far more knights than the regular Reichsarmee soldiers, and some noble scions waiting as well. Grover recognized Barnaby, the son of Ignatius, standing near the head of the line.
He could not remember what exactly the dog had done. Something with the engineering teams, most like. Benito will remind me. The Kaiser did not talk to them, after all. Just nod.
How much is a nod from the God’s chosen griffon worth, Proteus? The Archon waited at the side of the room. The other guests from the high table joined him; Mudbeak, Elias, Raison, Ignatius, and Gerlach all stood at attention. The conductor waved his talon to start a ceremonial march, and the band shifted in their chairs after the brief break as the guests filed out.
Grover had a crick in his neck again from wearing the Reichstone for six hours. I should have taken the damn thing off a few times during the feast. But he knew that was unacceptable, especially if someone had been speaking to him.
It was a show of disfavor; his great-grandfather had assassinated a priest by removing the Reichstone with an angry comment. His knights flew forth and killed Beckbeak before his altar the next day. Grover III’s act of penitence by marching on all fours from Griffenheim to the Sacred Tree of Griffonstone had undone the accidental sin, but Grover VI always wondered…
Flurry Heart cleared her throat and awkwardly backed away from the table. She offered a bowed head and touched her horn to the tablecloth before rising again. “Happy birthday, Kaiser Grover.”
I suppose Equestrians have no deeper religion. And I am no crystal pony. “You may leave, Princess. We shall speak later.” He nodded and felt the Reichstone slip, but leaned his head back and gravity centered it again.
Flurry observed the motion with unreadable eyes, then nodded a final time and replaced her cap from its place under a wing. Jacques similarly dipped his head and followed her. Once they had been escorted out and the doors shut, the ceremony began in earnest. The band played louder. Benito took a long sip of water and cleared his throat.
Grover planned to go to bed early like he usually did on his birthdays.
It helped with the headache.
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Hip hip Hooray! A blessing from the Gods!
Grover's got the birthday blues... Maybe some news from the front will cheer him up? I imagine once the rest of Equestria is Liberated they'll start to see the Griffins in a bit of a better light... the civilians at least.
Another chapter!
And another interaction between our stars.
Another thing for the Kaiser to learn about the Princess.
Another thing to appreciate and admire, even if grudgingly.
I wonder what Flurry learned from this.
Does she recognize Grover's willingness to accommodate (or at least tolerate) her pallette?
Did she notice his distaste for the pageantry and the trappings of office?
The fact that it cut short their time together?
She offered to stay. An expression of support? An offer of relief?
Sure left me excited for more, like any really good writing.
Thanks for sharing.
11666607
He told her outright he didn't like the event in the tank. She offered to stay for a reason. And they're both "comfortable" enough to trade jabs without getting too upset about it (and even somewhat capable of having a conversation through gestures). Grover recognized the tease about the Shadowbolts and fired back instead of taking it as a personal attack. And Flurry was willing to soak insults about her behavior, including the toast. After 400,000 words, they can finally communicate!
11666585
There's no news from the front because everything stalled for the celebration. But it's not just the war that's exhausting about this. Flurry wore herself down during her birthdays, but that was her choice to do so and it was personal. She spoke with her ponies and answered letters. Grover doesn't actually talk that much at his own birthday party. He's a prop with a crown, representing the Griffonian Reich.
Great chapter like always.
11666618
Ah, I only noticed some of those as I read. And of some I were aware of, I did not recognize them for the meaning they held.
I appreciate these little backstage moments you offer us.
It's really gratifying to learn these things I missed on my own, to add them to my idea of the characters as I understand them, and to understand them more accurately and truthfully.
Well, here's hoping that the equestrians can show them what a proper party should look like after the cronation! I'm sure Grover would appreciate it.
Do you have an upload schedule or is it random? Also, do you have an account on other reading apps because your name sounds familiar from somewhere else
11666955
Upload schedule is entirely dependent on how much time I have to draft, write, edit, and publish the chapters. Sometimes really quick, sometimes not. I do have other accounts with a similar naming scheme, but most aren't very active. You're probably thinking of someone else.
Barnaby my ferret looking boi
I'm willing to be this is how she kills the bug queen unless we get and anti-climax with a bomb or something. Then again she herself could be the bomb.
I'm both hyped and anxious about seeing her go into combat again because she still hasn't truly dealt with her self-loathing despite the respite she's had over the last few chapters. It's great to see her enjoying outwitting others and dealing with these domestic issues but the coming violence and tragedy that is going to be the push northwest and how she'll handle it is looming like a Sword of Damocles.
I'm sure if a census were conducted now more than a quarter of Equestria's pre-war population would be dead and wouldn't be surprised if it was a third. I'm sure the Crystal empire is worse still than that. I'm sure ponies are very conscious of their missing family friends and neighbors. I'm sure Flurry is aware her ponies are aware and she still will try and stop what is coming.
...I know it's highly unlikely, but if Jaques turns out to be Discord in disguise, I'll eat my (nacho) hat.
11668111
She tried and nearly succeeded doing exactly that in the very first chapter, so I worry that Chrysalis won't be fooled again so easily.
It is, in fact, how Flurry and Grover first met.
Indeed, it remains an impressive (almost cherished, even) memory for the Kaiser.
11668151
The author has hinted him being Discord in a comment a long time ago.
I just caught myself thinking about the following: it's early 1020s, but it seems no one has concerned about nuclear bombs?
Or was Götterdämmerung just that?..
11669534
Yes. It's easy to forget but changlings droped nuke on shield protecting Crystal Empire during the Great war. Cadence felt it real hard.
The scene with the choking on the strawberry wine made me think that it was poisoned, both the princess's and Jacques' glasses
11678306
Hmmm…
Would make sense.
11669534
Chrysalis used a nuclear weapon against the Crystal Empire. Can’t remember which chapter it was indirectly mentioned in, but it was said that she used it against the shield, the shield held, the Changlings began dying outside the shield for no apparent reason, like a sickness was spreading… or because of radiation poisoning.
Alright! wtf! (╯°□°）╯
I’m so effing confused about how Flurry and Grover act at times and this scene has finally broken me. What is her game here? Why is Flurry acting like a complete barbarian psycho here? Before, with the dinner for the doomed nobles, it made sense (albeit after realizing the purpose of the dinner) because she needed to disarm them by tricking them into thinking she was an ignorant fool. Here?? I don’t know what she has to gain by putting on this offensive show and insulting them like this so brazenly.
The whiplash I get from moments like this and they are so frustrating because they feel like they come out of nowhere and seem ooc for most of it. Then that makes me question if I really know what their character is even supposed to be! There is just so many contradictions and reversals that it just makes it hard to understand just who these people are. They just seem to flip flop from moment to moment with out showing us hints as to why that might be and that maybe they just might be conflicted and are doing the best that can in a certain situation. (We get this sometimes with Flurry but not often)
Don’t get me wrong, the whole point of reading a story is to see how the characters react to the narrative and how they adapt and change as a result. This doesn’t feel like development. It feels like “oops i need this person to act this way so this other thing can happen” instead of an organic evolution or reflection of that person’s character. Which really sucks because otherwise I think this story really is an interesting look at the horrible aspect of war and the necessary evils and sacrifices that are made is pursuit of victory even if they aren’t the “right” or “best” decisions.
You know what’s really terrible though? This whole scene might have been intended to be a joke but the set up for it (or lack thereof) made it so this completely failed. This scene is so dry that it just doesn’t come across as to be taken as humor. Instead of laughing I’m just left staring quizzically with an eyebrow raised and my head cocked to the side asking myself “what!?”
11847584
She's acting like a complete boor because she's not actually eating anything the servants put in front of her. Grover picks up on it after getting to know her better. She's grabbing food directly with her magic rather than waiting for it to be brought from the platters and she swapped glasses with Jacques. She grabbed the sodas before the staff could open them and pour for her. She takes stuff from other plates (mostly Jacques) that he already tried.
"The alicorn has bad table manners" is insulting, but nowhere near as insulting as "I am concerned one of you might poison me." That's the real diplomatic incident. At the end, she's a joke that can't handle her wine. Only Grover caught that she spat out the swapped wine and knocked Jacques' (hers) out of his grip. Everyone puts up with it because Grover is putting up with it, and no one wants to offend their Kaiser by acting offended on his behalf. He's mostly amused no one else is seeing through it.
Flurry has to run a balance between "Maar's Daughter" and "Trash Gremlin" to make the alliance work. She'd rather the Griffonian Reich clack their beaks at her as an overpowered idiot instead of thinking she's a manipulative schemer wrapping her wings around the levers of power.
11847584
Alright so after finishing the chapter I guess she was doing this as a cover to try and avoid being poisoned? But I don’t really remember any foreshadowing that this was a concern/possibility other than the vague warning from Thorax earlier (last chapter?) or am I just forgetting a whole bunch of the story…
How would killing Flurry now help the Reich anyway? If they did that they would have to fight Equestria and the Hegemony and that might even provoke the River Federation into attacking as well! It just doesn’t really make sense to me. Also I guess this was an attempt at injecting some humor after the dark and heavy chapters that came before this but it wasn’t really set up well enough to land successfully. Maybe the last chapter could’ve had someone make a jab at improving her bad table manners as they left for the kitchen? At the very least it would have established some loose feeling of continuity.
11847619
They discussed it during The Alicorn and the Griffon with table manners being discussed when inviting Jacques the chapter previous. Killing Flurry doesn't make anything easier...but she was their enemy in Nova Griffonia for several months and achieved a pretty decent kill count. Grover withdrew his navy and air force to ally with her a month or so later after she reclaimed the Crystal City. (This is a war against their other former ally, after all.) The politics are incredibly messy underneath Grand Crusade for the Gods! It is unlikely that a servant with family on a ship she sank or a plane she downed would poison her in revenge after being supplied by a noble concerned with the incredibly violent alicorn dominating post-war politics.
Unlikely, not impossible.
11847646
I do remember reading that Flurry is capable of being civilized at the table now that you quote it but that information was presented (what feels like) a while ago and was simply lost in a chapter that had a lot of other important character development occurring. It also doesn’t help that your writing style feels particularly… err… dense. I’ve felt like every other chapter was flying by super fast but that could just be an artifact of my reading speed. Sometimes my brain will skip over bits of text and I find myself needing to back up and reread a paragraph and sometimes entire sections of chapters.
Also it makes me so happy
to see that people are still so active on this site despite much of the fandom having moved on after so many years.