My name is Sultana Amira of Saddle Arabia, and my life is a fairy’s tale. Like most tales told to children, it does not begin happily.
A month ago, I was but Princess Amira, third child of my father, Sultan Amir the III. Mine was a pampered life by any measure, filled with leisure and decadence. But it was not to last forever, for I was destined to live the life of a priestess as soon as I became of age. Mine was not to rule, nor to marry into more wealth with one of our vassal families. No, I was to train and worship in a secluded cloistery among the unending dunes to continue a tradition passed down for over a hundred generations.
That is, until one of the noble families we thought among our most trusted, turned on us and lead a bloody coup that claimed the lives of my father and siblings, as well as the lives of most of our servants and guards. It was only through luck and the last minute appearance of my father’s true supporters that saved me from the same fate. While my life was spared by chance, the danger did not end there. The usurper's’ forces were driven from the palace, but they turned and laid siege to my home.
In the confusing hours after the sand and dust settled, the surviving elder’s council gathered to organize the remains of our warriors and see what was left of my family’s thousand years of rulership. Scared and dazed, my wounds hardly dressed, I was brought before them. Though of royal blood, I was not meant to be Sultan, and the elders feared that the people would not accept a female on the throne. These old men meant to decide my fate just as the traitor’s had, but with words instead of swords. I may not have been destined for the throne, but the blood of my family surged within me and I demanded what was mine by that blood. The council did not see things my way, and for a moment I thought those words of theirs would turn into daggers, but to my great surprise the Sisterhood I had been meant to join backed me. Their support earned me more than a little ire from the elders, but they were not so blinded by bloodshed to refuse the Order that guided the spirit of our people. Begrudgingly, they accepted me for the time being until some distant male cousin could be found and vetted.
After I was dismissed, one of the elder Sisters took me aside and told me of an old legend of their Order that might keep me firmly seated upon the throne that was still warm from my father’s blood. A thousand years ago, the Sisterhood had been formed to worship and venerate the mythical and magical Djinn. Spirit beings of immense power and great beauty, the Djinn controlled the very weather and the way in which our world worked. The most powerful and lovely of which was known as Celestia the Efreet. The Sisters said Celestia controlled the very Sun, and her might was unrivaled among the spirits.
In ancient times, the Djinn would sometimes answer the call of members of my family, and grant them boons. It was through their favor that my ancestors had raised our people from the dark ages and the forged the palace itself from a single stone, placing themselves as the Sultanate. After we took power for ourselves, the summoning of the Djinn waned, but the bond between them and my family’s blood still existed so long as my heart still beat.
The Sisters said if I could call upon this favor as my ancestors once did, then I might yet keep that birthright. I had always seen the Sisterhood as a relic of the past, though my fate was to join them, my heart never accepted their faith. But these were tragic times indeed and I had few options to fight both a hostile council and the usurpers at our gates. They instructed me in a ritual passed down through the ages, one intrusted to them for this very occasion. So I let them bathe me, dress my wounds and anoint me with special oils and perfumes until I stood nude and alone before the altar that all of our people bowed to. I spoke the words. I pledged myself to my people and the land we called ours, so that in turn, I was the tool of the very land.
I felt very stupid for even entertaining the idea that this old legend held truth. Even children know magic is not real.
Until I heard a soft sigh that was not my own. I turned and saw her for the first time standing at one of the tall windows, gazing out over the palace and city beyond. She looked as human as any other woman would, except her flawless skin was as pale as morning mists compared to my shade of wet sand. Her hair was every color of the rainbow and sparkled with its own light, hanging to her feet and blowing in a breeze my coarse twine could not feel. Even from behind, hidden mostly by her strange, gorgeous hair, I could see she was beautiful beyond compare. When she turned to face me, I thought my heart would stop. Her eyes were like the darkest rubies, her face that of a woman fit to be a mother but with a youthfulness that made me feel old by comparison and the softest looking lips I have even laid eyes on. Her body was firm and strong, like a warrior, but also voluptuous. To call it goddess-like would be an understatement.
She was also just as nude as I.
When she came closer, I could see that not only was she colored and shaped...differently, but she stood more than head and shoulders taller than I. Taller than even the tallest guard that served my family. When she spoke it was with a voice made of bells and swords. She kneeled before me and told me she was Celestia, the Efreet of legends and she was at my command.
I thought myself giddy, struck with hallucinations from blood loss or whatever was in those ritualistic oils. Djinn are not real. I laughed at her, that first time we met. Thank my luck that Celestia was unmoved by my behavior. She smiled kindly at me and told me I looked much like the young girl she forged a bond with millennia ago. That she knew I would be a great Sultana if I would accept her and her power.
When my laughter died and I found myself unsteady on my feet, Celestia held out her milk white hand to me. I could feel heat coming off it like sand in the noonday sun. This beautiful giantess offered herself to me for the mere price of my heart. She would scatter my enemies without and turn those within into allies, if I allowed her to linger with me. She offered me protection in a world that seemed to scream for my blood. All I had to do was take her hand.
Like most fairy tales, this one does not start out happily for me. It does not end happily for my enemies either.
That evening, the Sun did not set. I will always remember seeing Celestia soar into the air above the palace, her legs like fire and her rainbow mane flowing outward from her head to become the sky itself. Around me, elders and Sisters alike fell to their knees and prayed. I, the Sultana, forced myself to watch. The army of the betrayers burned. Most survived, but none were untouched by the Efreet’s flames. They were scattered to the four winds, living fire chasing them, biting at their heels. The leaders of the army felt her heat more than most, their tents and pavilions reduced to ashes along with their bodies. It was only then that the Moon and Stars were allowed to rise.
I fear that still not all the conspirators nor all their plans have yet come to light. Since then, Celestia has become my constant companion, protecting me from threats both physical and political. She stays with me even when I bathe or sleep, often directing the servant girls in ‘how to properly serve a Sultana’ with that same smile she offered herself to me with.
So now I sit, a Sultana on her throne, strong in my power and influence. The council of elders listens to my word, even as they take on the task of hunting down each of those that attempted to overthrow us. But I know it is mostly because they fear Celestia and not from the goodness in their hearts that they obey. The people have accepted me, so far, and my once destined Sisterhood has seen a surge in faith. I know, however, we are one crisis away from another revolt or riot. In time, I hope I will not have to rely on Celestia’s might to hold my kingdom together.
For now, I shall swear to use her power for the good of all. Now if I could only just convince her to put on clothing…
Celestia sighed as she looked over the documents hovering in front of her. While she was happy to spend her day ruling, doing her best to make the life of Equestria's ponies better, some days you just had to deal with unforeseen difficulties.
The documents, compiled by a diplomat, spoke of a failed coup in far-off Saddle Arabia. The old king had died and his eldest son had taken the throne. Soon it had become apparent that he had been little more than a power-hungry despot, happy to run the country into the ground for his own benefit. And as befitting of a power-hungry madpony, he had immediately turned his capriciousness on everything foreign. Equestrian citizens had been disowned and arrested for flimsy reasons, one unlucky merchant had found his death in a secret dungeon.
Only after weeks of bloody civil war, the intervention of the Equestrian special guard unit supporting the usurper prince's younger brothers and the loss of many innocent lives, the coup was over. Celestia hated international politics at times. As tempting as it was, and as much bloodshed it would have prevented, the full might of the Equestrian military and two battle-hardened alicorns tended to cause long-running diplomatic issues. What point was there in replacing fear of a despot with fear of the country that helped you, but demonstrated it could reduce you to rubble the instant you displeased them?
And now there was this. A small note, yet just as official as the stack of documents bearing seals and signatures. The confirmation that Prince Haakim had arrived incognito for an unofficial meeting to discuss the possibility of retying the diplomatic knots that had loosened over the years.
She put the documents back on the desk. The note she burned with a quick burst of magic, leaving no traces behind. She stood up and departed the throne room, heading for her study.
-------
When she entered her study, three ponies were already waiting for her. Raven, her majordomo, was talking with Prince Haakim, a large chestnut-colored stallion clad in Saddle Arabian warrior attire. The third pony was a lavender mare, slightly smaller than the prince, but similarly dressed, although her decorations looked more formal and less practical than the prince's.
They looked up when she entered, and Celestia watched them carefully for reactions. Raven smiled slightly as their gazes briefly met. By now, Celestia considered her a trusted friend and advisor, and together they had solved some pretty protracted crises. No doubt she had already started to prepare for the negotiations.
Prince Haakim kept a stoic demeanor, but he looked somewhat conflicted to see her. Curious, but considering he and his youngest brother were sitting on a pretty unstable power base, he probably wanted to gather allies as fast as he could. He knew he was in a weak bargaining position, and he knew Celestia was aware.
Now, the mare... She looked a good deal younger than the prince. A daughter, maybe? She looked at her shortly, resignation clearly written on her face, before swiftly looking down again, in a gesture that was more subservient than sad. So maybe she was a servant?
Curiouser and curiouser.
Celestia made her way around the desk everyone was waiting in front of. She sat down, taking another look at the ponies present. "Greetings, Prince Haakim", she said in perfect Saddle Arabian. "I am pleased to see you well, and I hope you had a pleasant journey. We mourn for all the lives lost during those difficult times."
Prince Haakim and the lavender mare exchanged a glance. Celestia would have smirked at their surprise, but she kept her face even.
"Light above, Sun Princess," Prince Haakim replied, bowing. "I thank you for your kind words. These are indeed dark times, but thanks to Equestria's help, we may yet find our way back out of isolation. However, for now, we are still weak, which is the reason for my visit..."
Celestia was pleasantly surprised by the prince. He was reasonable and did not waste time saving face. His country's economy was severely damaged from widespread destruction and loss of workforce, combined with diseases and hunger. He asked for reconstruction assistance and food shipments until the immediate crisis resolved itself, offering in exchange valuable trading agreements for Saddle Arabia's vast natural resources.
The Equestrian soldiers would help securing the cities still threatened by remnants of the eldest brother's supporters and withdraw as soon as the Saddle Arabian military could reorganize. Diplomatic channels would be reopened, and the Equestrian embassy would be rebuild in the capital city.
Raven pulled her punches. She could have negotiated the prince into fealty if she wanted, but aside from adding some minor stipulations to the trade agreement, she let the prince have his modest requests. Celestia made a mental note to add a nice bonus to Raven's paycheck for the year.
"Then there is the matter of reparation, Sun Princess."
Celestia lifted her eyebrow. "Reparations? We already compensated the merchants, and the relatives of the fallen. This is not something your country needs to do."
Haakim hesitated. "This is reparations to you, Sun Princess. The advisor's council, as well as our priests... They say we have offended the Sun by shedding the blood of Her ponies and attacking Her representative.” It was clear he was uncomfortable talking about this in front of “Her”. “A sin of this magnitude needs to be amended. And since my brother is the perpetrator, it falls to me to make these reparations, by selecting a worthy offering according to your... proclivity. Amira."
The lavender mare stepped forward.
"My eldest daughter, twenty-three years of age. She speaks several languages, she is adept at math and she is well-read. She has been raised as a priestess of the sun from foalhood. From now on she is yours, to do with as you please."
Amira knelt down, lowering her head before Celestia, who found that even after thousands of years, her composure could still fail her. "I pledge myself to you, Sun Princess. Your wish is my command."
Celestia could not remember the last time she had been at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then looked over to Raven, who looked just as surprised as she did.
"Prince, I am honored, but..."
Haakim bowed down as well, head low to the ground. "Please, Sun Princess. My people need you to accept this sacrifice. As ruler, I will offer what I value most to you. There will be unrest if the people fear retribution."
Celestia and Raven exchanged glances over the two bowing ponies. Celestia lifted her eyebrows and nodded, barely perceptible, towards Amira. Raven nodded.
"Rise, both of you." She waited until they did, although Amira still looked at her hooves. "I am grateful for this offering, and I will accept. Your daughter shall lack nothing, and she will be well-protected here."
"As a father, that is all I can ask for," Haakim said, bowing once more. He turned to his daughter. "Amira, you did a great service for your country and family. Thank you."
Amira merely nodded at him.
"And now, Sun Princess, with your permission. I would like to bring Amira to the palace medicus. As is custom in circumstances like this, I will have them confirm my daughter's virginity."
Celestia was grateful for not having any tea to spit out.
------
"Well, that was... mortifying" Raven mumbled, as she and Celestia were returning to the throne room. "Princess, I know I told you to not offend them by rejecting their... offering, as they called it, but this feels like the prince is selling off his daughter. I know they are our allies, but I think we might have to consider..."
"I wonder." Celestia mused. "If you think about it, it was a very clever move. He appeases his priests and the population. And if there are still more usurpers around... His eldest daughter is now safe from all of them. He made a grand gesture towards Equestria and his own people, and he is keeping his family line protected as well."
Raven eyed Celestia. "What are you going to do with her, Princess? Her father made pretty clear that she is not here as a diplomat." She angled her head in contemplation. "We could employ her at the castle. A administration position, perhaps?"
"We have to check the archive for the traditions. I don't want to cause another diplomatic incident if it appears I am, ah, unappreciative of his... offering." Celestia shuddered slightly. "I think for now, we keep her as a guest of honor. Ask Luna to increase counter-intelligence around Canterlot, just to be on the safe side."
When they reached the throne room, Amira had already arrived.
The saddle arabian mare lay in front of the dais, head low to the ground, legs tucked under her body, her dark blue mane and tails pooling around her artfully. The guards lining the room ignored her, and she did the same for them.
Celestia had never, in her life, seen anyone looking so dejected and hopeless.
But she decided here and then that she would make sure that Amira would want for nothing while in Canterlot. That was the least she could do for a mare who offered all of herself for the good of her country.
