Anon von Bismarck

by WojakWriter

10: Into the Coals

The clocks ticking is, mercifully, the only noise in the room right now.

I am Lord Anonymous, and I’ve been listening to the various ministers yell at me all morning.

It was only when we had convened today that I finally had told them of the ongoing military operation in Trottingham.

Certainly not that I thought they would give information to the enemy.

No, it was simply that I didn't trust them not to speak of it within earshot of less trustworthy ponies.

So until now, it was only me, Quill, and the military involved that knew of the battle of Trottingham.

Of course, my fellows took it to heart. Took it as a personal insult.

”You dared to approve a war plan without taking it to cabinet first? Do you plan on conducting a coup next?”

Flashy Image, minister of culture, ever the diva even in the face of something so minor.

”Fool, we could have organized supplies for this campaign far easier if you'd told us. Perhaps we could have even made way for more arms to be produced, but now who knows how they fare?”

Heavy Hammer, minister of industry, pragmatic but quite the worrywart and a micromanager to the core.

”Half of the new equipment was forced into early production. Who knows what kind of flaws could still be in their systems.”

Sharp Mind, minister of research, excellent at directing research where it needed to go, but totally neurotic and sure of failure, as if it was the only outcome.

And on and on with the rest, complaint after complaint, each one building on the case of the last.

But I sat there stoically, not letting my true annoyance show through.

I had placed my absolute trust in Stalwart Shield and Luna, they were experts of their craft and surely they would prevail. I had something the ministers lacked.

Faith.

As the clock continued ticking, I noticed Quill becoming more and more antsy.

Usually as cool and collected as the pair of us were in these situations, the mare has begun to subtly paw at the table, and her brow has a crease of worry.

It seems others in the room have noticed, their own nervous tics coming to the fore.

Even I had begun clicking my molars together, an old and terrible habit I had thought long gone.

Another ten minutes passed in silence, then Heavy Hammer jumps to his hooves

”So that's it then! We've committed our force to a doomed attack, and now we only have a few reserve troops and the Royal Guard left to defend ourselves. Brilliant work, human, by going around us you have ensured our defeat!”

I could see a vein pulsing in his forehead, and his hooves tremble on the table.

Taking a deep breath, I looked him directly in the eyes, my face tight with stress.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Hooves. As much secrecy as possible was absolutely required for this operation. The more ponies that know, the more ponies that can accidentally mention the wrong thing to the wrong being. Keeping you all in the dark was necessary till this point. Even now, I dare not discuss battle plans I was shown, in case the campaign drags on.”

He grit his teeth, but Flashy Image speaks before he can.

”And if our forces suffer defeat, what then?
You simply shrug your shoulders and carry on as though it never happened? No, Anonymous, you can rest assured that this little farce will be laid squarely at your feet.”

I had to restrain myself from lashing out. To that, I can had no response that was respectful, simply breathing deep to calm myself.

Eventually, Heavy Hooves sat back down, laying his head on the table.

The mood in the room has gone from tense to dismal in just a few moments. But, despite my nerves, I still had faith that the military will prevail.

They have to.

Moments later, the door to the minister chamber bursts open, and a tired looking pegasus wearing a Messenger Corps uniform bolts in and and snaps to attention.

He faced me and saluted sharply, then barked out his message in a precise, almost robotic manner.

“Sir, we've received a telegram addressed to you, high priority. Permission to proceed?”

I simply nodded at the exhausted pony.

He took a deep breath before practically shouting.

“Tyger, Tyger. Repeat, Tyger, Tyger.”

Oh thank god.

I stood from my seat at the head of the table, smiling ferociously at the assembled ministers.

“Ladies, gentlecolts, I am pleased to inform you that Operation Red Harbour has been successful. As of this moment, Trottingham is back under the control of Equestria and the enemy has been completely routed. Another operation is planned as soon as our valiant soldiers rearm and rest. I assure you, a follow up report will be on your desks soon. This meeting is adjourned.”

The room exploded into noise, all the ministers trying to shout over me.

But I simply turned and left, Quill following behind me. It's all I can do to not break into a run as I walked through the palace.

In a matter of seconds, I had gone from doubtful and nervous to ecstatic and already planning how to spin this.

I’d need to make an appearance in Trottingham to be sure. For the ponies, seeing their leader in their recently liberated city, confident and charismatic, would serve to make the next stage of the war more palatable.

My grin widens as I remembered the delivery from Rarity that had arrived only a few days past.

That suit was definitely going to strike a chord with my ponies.

After a while, I arrived at the war room in the East wing, walking in on an atmosphere of celebration.

When I entered, despite the cheer, the ponies there immediately snap to attention and saluted me.

My smile grows once more as I returned their salutes and then gestured for them to relax.

“Fine work, soldiers! Damn fine work! Capturing the city within two days of beginning the operation is nothing short of miraculous. I'll order the cooks to prepare a feast for you, it's the least I can do to reward your efforts.”

The staffs cheers redouble at the announcement, and I exit the room as quickly as I had entered while they roar in celebration.

They deserved this after all, why spoil it for them?

I breathed a long sigh as I head back to my room.

My heart thumps, beats like a war drum, making me eager to rush straight to the front and join in the fight. Just like how I used to…

And I can imagine the feeling will be much the same for the ponies when the liberation of Trottingham is announced.

On my way to my quarters, I spoke up to Quill.

“How soon do you think we can be in Trottingham?”

I heard her hum as she considers the answer.

”Well sir, by sea it will take a full day. An early train to a port, then taking a vessel across and we'll arrive late in the evening. It would be about half that time were we to take a pegasi chariot, but with the war, I wouldn't risk that even over areas we control.”

Nodding my head, I considered the options

Certainly air would be quicker, but as she said, the war made such transport riskier than I’d like.

Can’t have the ruler dying on them.

But a full day of travel wasn't conducive to the quick arrival in the city I wanted to have.

Suddenly, it struck me. I snapped my fingers

“What if we took a civilian train today? When does the next one leave for Manehattan?”

I heard her rustle some papers, surprisingly not questioning my thoughts.

“Forty minutes sir. We'd have ten minutes to prepare and be on our way to the station.”

I slowed down and looked at her.

“Alright Quill, in ten minutes we'll meet up at the main gates. Let's go!”

I took off sprinting down the halls, leaving a hesitant Quill in the dust.

Even leaving so suddenly, I knew that she would be ready before even I was, somehow.

Despite being an earth pony, that mare was damn near magical when it came to keeping time.

It took two long minutes for my headlong sprint to bring me to my room, and left a trail of confused servants in my wake.

But I didn’t care, I thought to myself as I stuffed well folded clothes into a suitcase.

I was giddy as a child, and no number of weird looks could stop that. Another five minutes, and I’m sprinting from my room, a change of my regular suits and the special outfit from Rarity packed away safely into my suitcase.

I skid to a halt before a serving cart, remembering my earlier promise to the military staff.

Letting out a quick breath, I spoke quickly.

“Pass this message along to the chefs, they're to prepare a celebratory banquet. Ensure the ministers and general staff are all invited to attend. Understand?”

The two stunned unicorns nodded in unison, and I almost took off once more, determined to finally be earlier than Quill.

But I needed something else from these mares. One last thing before I went to Trottingham.

I had a certain… request.

“Also, could you pass along a message for Heavy Hammer to have a new type of weapon made specially for me? I have the blueprint in my quarters, you may grab it.”

---

I arrived in front of the gates, heaving for breath. It was about time I got back in shape. Last time I was happy about how I looked, I was still fighting for Uncle Sam.

After the war, I promised to myself, I’ll have Quill schedule an hour for exercise every day.

No matter how early or late it was! But only after the war.

Grinning to myself, I looked around and didn’t see Quill anywhere nearby.

I had finally done it, I had beaten the mistress of schedules to a timing.

Oh how sweet victory would be when I--

”Ah, you've arrived sir, and a full minute early! Let's be on our way then.”

For once, I was glad I didn’t have the appearance of a pony. At least like this, I didn't have ears that would be pressed against my head in despair

“Sir?”

I patted her head and began walking down the road.

“Let's be going, Quill. No time to waste.”

She smiled up at me, and trotted along beside me.

It's not a quick pace, but we managed to arrive at the train station with plenty of time to spare.

Quill goes to the counter and orders a pair of tickets to Manehattan, and I took a seat on one of the benches.

Almost immediately, I was aware of the stares from the other ponies waiting for the train.

For a moment, I was confused, but I quickly remembered that I was not exactly inconspicuous in a land of pastel ponies. No matter what they called me. I was their ruler after all, they wouldn’t dare to speak down to me.

But that was no problem, as I simply grin amicably and wave to those who are staring.

Celestia probably had to deal with the same things when she was in charge, though it was likely easier for her given that she at least looked like a pony.

As Quill comes and say beside me, a few of the bystanders timidly approached.

They asked questions about the war, about what's going on with the military, if I know when their son will be home since he had already missed a few dinners.

I deftly deflected the questions, speaking of military security, and reassuring them that as soon as resolution came, it would be back to business as usual.

Another lie of course. But it seemed I was pretty good at that.

They seem satisfied with the answers and go about what they were doing before, leaving me and Quill waiting quietly.

It's not long at all before the train pulls into the station.

Quill and I got on as soon as the arriving crowd thins, and a conductor shows us to our seats in an economy car.

Couldn’t pay for some luxury apparently.

The two of us sat on a firmly cushioned bench, and I tried to get comfortable in the furniture made for beings half my size.

Quill gave me an apologetic gaze.

“There weren't any other tickets left, sir.”

Made sense, this was a last minute decision.

I waved her remorseful words away and gave her a warm smile.

“It was my idea to leave so suddenly. But this way we ought to arrive in the city around noon tomorrow, right?”

She nodded her head and began scratching a quill on a sheet a paper.

I left Quill to her notes and namesake, shutting my eyes as the train slowly chugs away from the station.

As I tried to rest, my worries prickled me in spite of the incredible news of the day. Certainly, the liberation of Trottingham was a great victory, perhaps decisive in nature.

But how many more would there have to be before the war finally ended?.

---

It's early in the morning, I and a very sleepy Quill have boarded a military ship in Manehattan bound for Trottingham.

It was part of a resupply convoy, and they were more than happy to have us aboard.

Or just me, at least.

The Captain even gave up his quarters to us two. What a kind stallion! I’d be sure to remember that Captain Surehoof deserved a raise.

After the rather painful half day on the train, I certainly wasn’t going to complain about a bit of extra cushion.

Still, I had managed to get a bit of sleep on the ride.

Not like Quill, who stayed up for the entire trip, then what was left of the night we arrived

She told me it was all to make the schedule as efficient as possible.

I’m pretty sure I saw her drawing, though.

Of course, I wasn’t going to admit to her I had peeked over her shoulder once or twice.

That would be stupid, never mind that it would go against the very nature of a politician to admit to any perceived wrongdoing.

From what I saw, she was pretty good at it though.

Not to mention a very lewd little pony. If I were to talk to her about it, I’d ask where she learned to draw like that.

But I certainly hadn't watched for any longer than five minutes. Probably

Whatever the reason she hadn't rested, it made for a very tired, grumpy mare.

As soon as the boat sounded its horn and set sail with the other ships, she took to the bed and laid down with a huff.

”Damn that train and its uncomfortable seating, I couldn't get a wink!”

I sat on the bed beside her, dropping my suitcase at the foot of it.

“You could have slept when we got into town. We had a good three hours until the ship was set to sail.”

She shakes her head and rolls onto her back.

”I know my luck, sir. I'd have overslept and you wouldn't have been able to wake me up and been forced to board the ship alone.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That's a very specific this to be afraid of.”

She gave me a strangely whimsical smile.

”I have very specific dreams.”

I scratched the tuft of fur that puffed out from her chest.

She let out a contented coo as I scratch, her breath slowing. This pony has to be half cat.

“Very peculiar ones too.”

She lets out a little giggle, truly relaxing for the first time since the war began.

”I'm a very peculiar pony, Anon.”

She definitely was. Peculiar to make me think twice about my beliefs about a human-pony relationship.

I still couldn’t commit to it yet. It just seemed so wrong. Like a violation of the natural order.

Shacking those thoughts away, I grinned, enjoying the easy banter.

“I'll say. Who else could I find that enjoys making schedules so much?”

She snickers again, giving me a cheeky smile.

“Who else could you find that would actually manage to keep you on schedule?”

I scratched my chin, as if pondering a deep question.

“Well, I suppose I could get one of the guards to, I hear they're quite good at keeping timings.”

Quill pushes a hoof against my side, her face twisting into mock disgust.

“I suppose you could if you wanted him to follow you everywhere, even the toilet.”

Now it was my turn to give her a smug grin.

“Come now, a mare can be a guard as well.”

She scrunches her muzzle in annoyance at my comment. It takes her a moment, and I realized that I finally had gained the upper hand.

”I suppose so, but imagine what kind of battle axe she'd be. I mean, what kind of mare goes into a line of work like that willingly?”

“A true Equestrian patriot.”

Both of us shared a laugh, and the conversation lapses into a cheery silence.

I leaned back against the hull as the boat gently rocks, massaging Quill's chest as she hums contentedly.

After a while laying in silence, Quill speaks up in a quiet, timid tone.

”You wouldn't actually replace me, right?”

I almost riposte her with a snide remark.

But something in her tone, some deep kind of insecurity perhaps, stops me from making a mockery of it.

“Of course not, Quill. I'm a firm believer in not fixing what isn't broken.”

She huffed quietly and nodded her head in affirmation.

”Good, I don't want to go around trying to get a new job.”

Her tone suggested she's simply brushing it off as an extension to my earlier teasing. But her face suggests she's genuinely relieved.

I pulled her onto my lap and started stroking her mane gently.

She lets out a little 'eep' as I did so, but soon settled into the new position.

After a while relaxing in my lap, Quill opens her mouth and lets out a ferocious yawn.

I chuckled and mussed her mane.

“Ought to catch up on your sleep. We'll be in Trottingham before you know it, and I need somepony to keep me on time.”

She smiled and nodded at me slowly.

”Yeah, I suppose I could do with a nap. Promise you won't leave me on the ship?”

I booped her muzzle, much to her annoyance, and smiled warmly.

“Of course not, don't be silly. Now get some sleep.”

She snorts and lays her head down on my lap, yawning again. It's not long before she's fast asleep, her ears flicking as the boat continues to rock like a cradle.

I let out a yawn as well.

The short, uncomfortable nap on the train hadn't been enough, and the excitement of yesterday was finally catching up with me.

Shifting Quill to the side, I laid down in the bed and curl myself around her so we both fit.

It still felt wrong, but slowly I was starting to accept this. It’s not like any more humans would be as unlucky, or lucky, as I was.

She nuzzled against my chest, letting out a long sigh.

As I begin to nod off, Quill's mane burying my face, I know we’ll be in Trottingham before we know it.

But for now, I would enjoy this time with my sweet secretary.

I still have to question if these thoughts are mine. When did I find ponies cute?

Once more, I cast away the thoughts. A philosophical debate could wait for the morning.

---

The blaring of ship horns brought me out of my comfortable nap.

I blinked away the sleep encrusting my eyes and sat up in the miniature bed, stretching my limbs and yawning.

Quill stirred beside me, standing and stretching out like a cat.

I scratched behind her ears, and she pushed her head against my attentive fingers.

“Did you sleep well, Quill?”

She nods her head silently, hopping off the bed and walking over to the dresser of the cabin.

I stood from the bed as she begins brushing her mane.

I’m rather impressed that she's able to do it so well without any magic to assist her.

Or hands.

Even managing to style it into a neat ponytail, all without the kind of dexterity I'd expect that to need.

I waited my turn, taking out my straight razor in the meantime. Finally I would get a chance to shave.

Needed to look presentable for my troops.

It doesn't take long for Quill to finish up, nor for me to clear the stubble from my cheeks.

I shooed her from the cabin and open up my suitcase.

I knew we’ll be pulling into the harbor soon, I can hear the faint echoing of other ships responding to the blares of my own ship horn.

When we arrive, I figured that I ought to arrive looking the part of a leader though.

Certainly, my old suits had been enough for working in the foreign ministry, even as the head minister I hadn't been expected to meet with anyone above my office position.

But now I was the ruler, and I figured that I needed to look the part.

As I took out Rarity's creation and looked it over again, I couldn’t help but whistle.

It more than looked the part of a regal outfit. The suit, no the uniform, was made of stark white cloth, softer than silk to the touch, but surprisingly elastic.

On the shoulder were two gold coloured epaulettes with great curtains of bullion fringe hanging from them. The cuffs and seams too were gold in colour, as was a long, braided sash of rope that ran from shoulder to waist.

On the right breast of the uniform, a large sun in the style of Celestia's cutie mark was embroidered, invoking the lineage I now represented.

A peaked cap with a badge of the Equestrian crest and laurels around the brim and a pair of white gloves were worn alongside the ensemble. Were this outfit any color but white, it would cut an imposing image of tyranny. But it was a cream white, representing the purity of my rule.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

And finally, a pair of jet black jackboots were worn over the pants, coming to mid knee, the toes polished to a mirror finish.

It was a striking uniform, not truly gaudy, but certainly created with letting ponies know who I was at even a sidelong glance.

For the first time, I donned the uniform.

I was surprised by how comfortable it is, and incredibly light. It fit me like a glove, not astonishing given that Rarity had insisted on getting my measurements the last time I was in town.

I held the cap at my waist and looked at myself in the mirror.

It’s so beautiful. It's even better than I’d ever hoped it to be.

The figure I cut was striking, especially with my natural height.

This uniform was more than fitting for my role, and even better to present myself to the ponies of the newly liberated Trottingham. Without delaying any further, I walked outside onto the busy deck, suitcase in hand.

Quill, upon seeing me, freezes in her tracks, seemingly stunned by the new outfit.

The captain of the vessel, Captain Surehoof if I could recall, who had been conversing with her, snapped sharply to attention and salutes me hastily.

I returned the salute and gave the two a devilish grin.

“It's a good look, eh?”

After looking me up and down slowly, Quill returned my smile.

“I couldn't agree more sir. It's about time you had some clothes befitting your new station.”

The two of us walked towards the bow of the ship, returning the hasty salutes of ratings as we passed them by.

Finally we arrived, and just in time to catch a spectacular view of the Trottingham port as the ship begins to pull in.

The harbour is a truly massive affair, befitting the role of the city as a trade port between Equestra, the Crystal Empire, and the griffons.

Of course they would attack this city first, it was the lifeblood to Equestrian trade.

Around the mouth of the port, and prowling its waters, various armed ships-of-the-line and ironclads belch smoke from their boilers into the fresh sea air.

I noted the turrets on one ironclad tracking my ship as it sailed into the harbor proper.

For an enemy, it would be an imposing sight.

For me, it reminds me of the warships back on Earth.

It bellowed its horn, as if warning us against doing anything foolish in the city.

As the ship passes through the mouth into the bay of the harbour, the view becomes even further crowded.

The tall masts of the sailing ships clutter the sky, and the cries of hundreds of gulls pollute the air.

Looking towards the shore, I could see a number of captured griffon ships, their distinctive construction sticking out among the more conventional Equestrian vessels.

Beneath the waves, dark silhouettes of sunken and scuttled vessels litter the entire area.

It truly illustrated just how dominant Equestria was on the seas, and despite the victory here, that may be the only guaranteed place of power.

The griffons had underestimated us, and now they had woken the sleeping giant.

It reminded me of America and Japan.

Just how outclassed Japan was when America had turned its full might towards them.

History repeats itself, after all.

In the distance, thick clouds of smoke billow outside the city, and the breeze carries the scent of burnt fat. The scent of death.

A reminder of the battle that occurred only days ago.

That would certainly be one of the first things I’d ask about once ashore.

The shouts of sailors and wharf hands echo over the noise of the gulls, calling for mooring line to be set

As the deckhands hurry about securing the vessel, a ramp is lowered to the dock below.

The captain comes and guides me and Quill out of the way and to the dock.

“Thank you for having us aboard, captain. I wish you all the best in your voyages.”

The elder stallion smiles and salutes me.

“Thank you sir, a pleasure having you along for the trip. You’ve done a number for morale for my crew.”

With that, he turns back and begins directing the crew, and I turned to greet the two stunned soldiers at the end of the pier.

I approached them with a calm smile and wave away the hasty salutes they throw up.

“Relax, troops. Could you point us in the direction of your headquarters? We'd like to congratulate the commanders personally.”

They look at each other, nervous, and one of the two speaks up hesitantly.

“I can escort you there sir, if you'd like. This city is a bit of a maze.”

I clasped my hands together.

“Splendid! Let's be on our way then.”

With another salute, the private that had offered to escort me turned about and started walking into town.

Quill and I began to follow him, and the slow pace he sets gives us some time to admire the scenery.

The buildings are quite reminiscent of old port towns back on Earth, all thick timbers and stone.

Around the wharf, they buildings crowd together, but they thin out as I moved further in town. The ponies I passed by gape at me, some of the younger fillies and colts smiling and cheering as I passed them by.

It still surprises me sometimes how easily recognized I am.

That was why I went on tour, I supposed.

People need to recognize their ruler at a glance.

For a city that had gone through two sieges in the span of a month, Trottingham is remarkably intact.

Only one or two buildings I save had sustained serious damage, and only a few more have smaller scars of battle.

The fighting must have not taken place inside the city proper, or if it had, it had all been repaired quickly.

Here and there, I saw work crews of griffons in tattered uniforms, cleaning the streets, repairing some damage, or even tilling gardens.

All under heavy guard, of course.

The soldiers are stoic and professional, snapping quick salutes when I passed them, but never took an eye off their wards.

Good, they’re punishment would come eventually. Until then, might as well work them.

Eventually, we came to the center of town and lay eyes on the city hall.

Here, I finally see where the fighting really happened.

The plaza is heavily damaged, craters all over the stonework, the fountain shattered. The building is half burned down and lined with sandbags and wooden obstacles.

It seems this was the last stand of what few soldiers the town had garrisoned in it when the griffons arrived.

Judging by just how much damage there was, they must have held out for quite some time before finally giving up.

I’d be sure to commemorate their valiant efforts.

Maybe a statue or two would do.

The guards outside the building ushered me inside, and more damage is revealed.

Bullet strikes all over the walls and floor, burn damage everywhere, and most doors clearly blown off their hinges

It will be quite the effort to fix it, but I’m sure the ponies of Trottingham are up to the task.

The guards guided me to an intact set of heavy oak doors, struck but unbroken by stray rounds.

I raised my fist and knocked heavily on the door, and the noise echoes in the long halls

The hinges creaked, and the doors open to reveal an exhausted looking Luna.

When she laid her eyes on me, her face brightens and a great smile grows on her face.

She pushes the doors fully open, revealing a great table with a number of officers around it with a sweeping motion of her foreleg

”Welcome to Trottingham, Anonymous.”

Comments

[PrinceArti]

Fewer instances of switching into second person and overall I love it. I also love the look of the uniform you described and if I am honest I would not be surprised if this Anon continues his slow slide into authoritarianism. Which honestly I would adore.

[kitsune5000]

11476702
Nothing wrong with a benevolent dictatorship.

[PrinceArti]

11476777
I don't think those elections will be exactly free and fair

[Shady Nail]

And finally, a pair of jet black jackboots were worn over the pants, coming to mid thigh, the toes polished to a mirror finish.

Thigh? As in the upper half of his leg?
That just sounds stupid and silly.
What was she thinking?

[AgentKorpsman]

“Also, could you pass along a message for Heavy Hammer to have a new type of weapon made specially for me? I have the blueprint in my quarters, you may grab it.”

Is it a .45 caliber pistol or 1911

[WojakWriter]

11487075
It is.

[ChronoMitsurugi]

11487075
...a 1911 is a .45 any other caliber is just an imitation of the 1911.