> The 8th Rank
>  by Winter Quill
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Observed and Reported
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia tried to hold back a yawn as she settled down at the small conference table, but like all yawns it still came unbidden to her lips. Instead she lifted a hoof to her face, hoping to hide it in the back of her pastern, but that did nothing except cause her sister to giggle.

She shot Luna a look, but not before yawning again, simply unable to help herself. It was late for her, the sun had been set three hours before. Sleep was dancing around the corner of her eyes, and causing them to droop slightly. The fact that it was the middle of summer just made it feel that much worse. The long days left her body aching for sleep well before the day was done. Any pony would have expected her to be in her bed, but some things were more important.

Without a word, one of the palace maids brought her a fresh cup of tea, setting it on the table next to her.

“Thank you,” Celestia said, too tired to remember the stallion’s name. She took a quick sip of tea to hide her embarrassment as the maid set a second cup down next to Luna before he slipped out of the room.

The tea was a blend Celestia kept for the nights when she needed to be awake, but where coffee would have been too strong. Sadly, it wasn’t a flavor she enjoyed as it was far too bitter. It would keep her awake, and that was all that mattered.

Luna took the cup in her magic and gave it a suspicious sniff before taking a sip. She then gently set the cup back down and pushed it away with her magic. The night was young for her and she didn’t need the extra energy.

“Do you know why we have been summoned?” she asked a few moments later.

“I do not, but it must be an urgent matter if we are both needed,” Celestia replied, taking another long sip of the tea. It wasn’t often that both of them were called by one of the guard captains, so it must have been truly important.

A few moments later, the door opened again as captain Sidereal Equinox entered, his silver armor slightly dulled from a long day. He was part of the guard’s special task force; collecting, collating and processing information that came in over mostly unclassified channels. He held a number of papers in the blue glow of his magic, a worried look lining his face.

“Thank you for attending to this on such short notice,” he said, closing the door to the room with a shove of his hip. He walked up to the table and took off his helmet, his blond mane falling across his face and into his eyes.

Sidereal used his magic to slide one paper over to the two mares. On it was a map of the eastern coast with a number of lines drawn across it. “For the last few weeks, we have been tracking the movements of what appeared to be an unreformed changeling queen. This afternoon we received information that confirmed our suspicions.”

Celestia’s head snapped up from the page. The last thing she wished to deal with was another attack from Queen Chrysalis, not so soon after the defeat of the Storm King. “And where is she?”

Sidereal shifted the pages again, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts. “We cannot be completely sure, but all signs point to her settling in the mountains to the north of Garnet Point.” He replaced the first map with another one, this one depicting the western coast of the Griffon Kingdom. Once again, it was marked with a number of lines indicating possible travel routes. “We have the possible location narrowed down to a few dozen square miles, but our resources in that area are severely limited. Even so, we believe that she intends to start a new hive there.”

Luna took the map in her magic. “Garnet Point. That is part of the Griffon Kingdom, is it not?”

“It is, and that’s the crux of our problem,” he replied.

Luna frowned at the stallion, her ears slowly folding backward. “Even griffons should be worried about the older changelings. We must contact their city garrison immediately!”

Celestia had a feeling that she was going to need something stronger than tea to get through the night. “There is no longer a garrison in Garnet Point.”

“Ah” Luna replied, her ears flicked back as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes glanced down at the table then back up to Celestia. “Very well. Who are the authorities that we should contact to deal with this?”

“There are none,” Sidereal said.

Luna’s eyes went wide. “Surely there must be something! If it is a city, even a small one, then it must have a mayor, or even a local constable. It would not be left defenseless.”

Celestia sank down in her seat, her flowing mane settling down limply around her shoulders. “Luna, there is no one. The Griffon Kingdom has not had a functioning government in nearly eighty years. There is no guard, no mayors and no King. There is not even a tax office. The only thing they have is an ad-hoc all volunteer mail service. There is nothing else.”

The younger princess’s jaw slowly dropped as her ears sank down into her mane. “But… how is such a thing possible? They have an ambassador, do they not? I have dined with him in the past!”

Sidereal spoke up before Celestia could. “There was an upheaval about a century ago, after the loss of the Idol of Boreas. Soon after that the nobles started leaving the country, taking their wealth with them. By the time the king died without an heir, there were no nobles left and much of the government had already collapsed. I believe the last garrison disbanded nearly thirty years ago, after a fire destroyed much of the royal archives in Griffonstone.”

Luna seemed shaken by this news. She had been made aware of the Griffon Kingdom and that it had fallen on hard times, but not that they were in such dire straits. “How can such a thing stand? We must do something!” she protested.

“I have done all that I can do,” Celestia replied. “I’ve tried sending aid, but it never arrived where it was needed. Too many griffons were hoarding food and medicine for themselves, and in the end they were simply left to rot. The borders have been thrown open, there are no longer tariffs or travel restrictions between the two countries, and even the train line has been extended to the border. Our secondary schools are open to any griffon that wishes to attend, which has become the only education many of them ever receive. The griffon nobles living here in Canterlot have completely refused our offers of aid, and many have even leveled empty threats at us if we try to intervene.”

“Then to Tartarus with those jackdaws!” Luna snapped, slamming her hoof down onto the table. “Send the guards in to—”

“So we should invade them?” Celestia asked.

That brought her younger sister up short. “Yes, if we must. But if no government exists, then what are we invading?”

“Unfortunately, while the government itself is gone, they are still a sovereign nation as far as our allies are concerned,” Sidereal answered.

“And even if that was not the case, the local griffons would see us as invaders and fight us at every turn.” Celestia said with a slight shake of her head. ”We would not be welcomed with open wings, but with slings and arrows. They would never see us as helping them, not at the point of a horn.”

Luna frowned deeply, which then turned into a scowl as her ears pressed down tightly to her head. “This is unacceptable! I cannot believe our hooves are hobbled in such a manner. What of the griffon ambassador that prances around Canterlot with his chest puffed out?”

Celestia let out a long sigh as her wings ruffled, the primaries fanning out before she forced them tight against her back. “The current ‘ambassador’ is the grandchild of the last true ambassador. That is true of all the griffon nobility, none of them have put a single talon into the kingdom in a generation. At this point there is little to nothing we can do that won’t create far worse problems than having a failed state on our border.”

“Unless we want to buy the country from them,” the captain quipped.

Luna snorted. “And who would sell it?”

Sidereal started to shuffle his papers, pulling one out from deeper in the stack. “I doubt any of the griffons living there would, they are very protective of their homes and land. It’s the only thing of value that many of them own, and they will fight wing and talon to protect it.”

“What?” Celestia asked, suddenly perking up. “Every griffon owns land?” This was something that she hadn’t been aware of.

The stallion chuckled. “There are no nobles to tell them otherwise, so they claim the land they nest on.”

She paused for a few moments to digest that. “The nobles owned all the land in the kingdom, leaving the serfs to work on it. When they fled, they left the land to those who now claim it.” A smile started to spread across her face. “This is a very interesting development.”

“Sister?” Luna asked.

Celestia found herself wide awake as her mind began to race, nodding as distant memories of old laws started to bubble the surface. “I think you might be onto something, captain.”

“What?” he asked, just as confused as Luna.

Celestia’s hooves danced against the tabletop, pieces of a plan starting to form in her mind. “I believe there is a way we can aid the griffons, and without having to invade. We must take ownership of their country.”

Luna and Sidereal looked at each other, hoping that the other understood what the elder princess was saying. “How?” Luna finally asked.

“I do not wish to say until I can refresh my memory of their laws. The parliament is not going to approve of this, but it falls under the purview of the first charter, so they will have no say in the matter.” Celestia smiled and pushed her chair away from the table. “There is much research to be done, I need to review our copies of the Griffon Kingdom’s law books before I can proceed.”

That made Luna chuckle. “Shall I summon Twilight Sparkle?”

“No. This is law and politics, she is not ready for that yet. I will be closing court for the next few days until I have my answers,” she said to her sister, then switched her attention to Sidereal. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, captain. Please insure the information you brought to us is passed onto the border garrisons, and arrange for extra patrols to search for changelings crossing the border.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied with a slight nod. He then gathered his papers and helmet and left the room.

Luna watched her sister as she fanned her wings, her ears perked up high above her head. She could only shake her head at the sight. ”You are right, there is no need to summon Twilight. You seem to be filling in for her quite well at the moment.”

Celestia did not respond to that, instead she just teleported away from the conference room. It left Luna shaking her head at how juvenile her older sister could be.
> Princessly Intervention
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the buck?” Skychart said, the stallion’s voice ticking up slightly as he swore.

Gilda looked up from the counter she was working on, a nail held in her beak as she narrowed her eyes to glare at the pony. The pegasus was a good worker, but like all ponies he was easily distracted by the stupidest of things. At the moment he was standing just inside the open door, looking out into the town square, his orange wings drooping against his sides. She spat out the nail and set the hammer on the counter top. “Whatever it is, I doubt it’s worth not doing your job.”

Greta came out of the back of the shop and walked over to the stallion, reaching up to grab his yellow mane to pull him back inside, but froze with her talons above his head. She stared out of the door a few moments before her tail dropped to the floor with a thump. She looked back at Gilda, the white feathers of her face coated with a thin layer of soot, the green highlights tinted gray. “Gilda, you gotta’ see this.”

Rolling her eyes, Gilda leapt over the half-finished counter and made her way to her friend and employee. “It had better be good. We have no time to waste flapping around like… this…” she trailed off, her eyes growing wide as she reached the door.

The shop itself opened up onto the large square at the center of Griffonstone. With broken buildings on every side of the square and a large dead tree sitting at the center of it all, it was less than inspiring. The top of the tree had broken off during the storms of last winter, and the ground was still littered with the debris.

Princess Celestia was standing alone next to the dead tree, with no sign of any guards or armed ponies around her. Her hair was fluttering in the breeze as she looked from left to right across the square. She looked exactly like Gilda had imagined her: with pure white fur, an iridescent mane, and wearing enough gold to buy most of the town. She did nothing else, she just stood there with her brow furrowed, like a mother whose hatchling had just fallen from the nest.

Her arrival seemed to have attracted the attention of every griffon in town. They had started to collect into the square, but none of them risked getting close to Celestia, creating a buffer around her. She just watched the gathering crowd, her eyes sometimes flicking up to look at the damaged castle that sat high above the town in the old stone tree.

“What is she doing?” Gilda asked in a whisper, glancing down at Skychart to see that the pegasus was gone.

A moment later the princess answered that question as she cleared her throat loud enough to get the attention of every griffon in earshot. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I need an audience with your current leaders,” she said, her voice loud enough to echo throughout the town. It had a warmth and kindness to it that seemed out of place with the power that it carried.

Silence fell over the square as every eye turned to look at Celestia.

After a moment there was a clank of metal on stone, which repeated every few seconds as it grew louder. It was coming from the far side of the square, which made it hard for Gilda to see, but the crowd soon parted to reveal Grandpa Gruff.

The old griffon was walking straight for the princess, using a beaten up shovel as a cane. He moved slowly, taking far longer than was necessary to reach her, stopping only a wing span away. With a grunt, he threw the shovel down, sending it skidding across the broken stone pavers towards Celestia. She lifted one hoof and brought it down on the rusted spade, stopping its motion with a dull thump.

“If you want to talk to our king, then you can go dig him up. He’s buried over there,” he said, pointing off into the distance. Then with a snort, he adjusted his fez and headed back into the crowd.

Slowly, the princess lifted her hoof from the shovel and placed it back on the ground. “Then to whom can I speak? Is there a regent?” she asked, then paused as if she was waiting for an answer, but from the cant of her ears it was clear she wasn’t expecting one. “Is there a mayor?”

A cough was the only thing to break the silence.

“There must be someone in charge here, someone with some authority. Who would that be?”

The only sound was from the wind blowing through the branches of the dead tree.

Celestia frowned and slowly cast her gaze around the plaza. There was a moment when her eyes fell upon Gilda, and the griffoness wilted slightly under the weight of it. It lasted only for a moment before moving on.

Finally, the princess spoke again. “There have been a number of recent repairs to the plaza, and to those buildings,” she pointed at Gilda’s shop with her wing. “Someone must have coordinated those, who was it?”

A few moments passed before a number of griffons spoke as one. “Gilda,” they said, a few of them turning to point in her direction.

Celestia nodded and started walking across the square, the crowd parting around her.

Greta fluttered her wings and took a step back inside, looking like she was about to vanish to wherever the stallion had gotten too, but Gilda reached out and grabbed her by the base of her tail, holding her in place. “You’re not going to leave me here alone with a princess,” Gilda whispered.

“You’re the one who went to a pony school!” her friend snapped, a hint of panic in her blue eyes.

“It’s not like they teach us how to bow and scrape to her like an idiot pony!”

“I would much rather you act like a smart griffon than an idiot pony,” Princes Celestia said as she came upon them. “Miss Gilda, may I come in? There is much that we need to speak about.”

A feeling of dread crashed down upon Gilda as she turned back to look up at the princess. She was used to being taller than every pony she met, but Celestia loomed over her. The sun was shining behind her, reflecting off her regalia, causing her fur to glow and making her floating hair look ethereal. She looked down at Gilda with a small smile on her face, one that almost appeared genuine.

Gilda let go of Greta’s tail, allowing her friend to rush back into the shop. She wanted to hold her own against this pony who just decided to show up and create a scene in the center of town. She wanted to snap and yell at her, but she held her beak. Even griffons knew you didn’t screw around with a princess.

Instead she looked the princess in the eye, a little surprised to discover that they were a dark violet. She had always assumed they would have been some shade of gold to match the sun. Celestia returned the look, her eyes narrowing just slightly as her ears twitched. “Fine!” Gilda finally snapped, spinning around and walking back into the bakery, not even bothering to hold the door open for the mare.

There had been a number of things Gilda had expected from her life: going to flight school and being better than everypony there, then getting a job that was all about being awesome. In retrospect it wasn’t what one would call a plan, but it was more than most of the feather brains she grew up with ever had. Instead she had become a baker, and she enjoyed it.

It made other griffons happy, something that was extremely rare in Griffonstone (with one exceedingly annoying exception) and her scones were popular enough that she couldn’t keep up with just her little cart. She had spent the last few months, and all her bits, to convert an old husk of a building on the edge of the square into a proper bakery and home. Skychart had managed to scrounge up three stoves from somewhere in town, and Greta was getting them installed in the kitchen. Once they were installed she could finally open up the shop. It had been hard work to get so many griffons to repair the building and the paving stones outside, but she had managed to bring them together long just enough to do the job.

Now all that work had attracted the attention of the ruler of Equestria.

Celestia stepped into the shop, lowering her head so her horn could pass under the threshold. Once inside she shut the door with her magic, the latch closing with a heavy thud that sounded louder than it should have. The princess looked around the shop, glancing at the covered windows and then to the still unfinished display counter.

She turned to Gilda, giving her a warm smile that made her eyes glitter. “Hello Gilda, it’s a pleasure finally meet you. Both Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash have spoken highly of you in their letters to me.”

“Thank you…” Gilda replied, not quite sure how she should respond to that.

The princess walked to one of the tables in the center of the bakery, pulling out a chair and settling herself down upon it. Gilda was actually surprised to see that Celestia was wearing saddle bags, each one made from white silk with her cutie mark emblazoned upon them. At a distance they blended into her ample flanks, but up close they were easy to see.

Celestia motioned for Gilda to take a seat across from her. “I had hoped that I would be able to speak with you on this visit, but not so soon. I had truly wished that there would be some remnants of your government left intact, but there isn’t even a dog catcher.”

That made Gilda snort as she sat down at the table. “Government? I would think you of all ponies would know better than that.”

A wary smile flickered over her face. “There is a difference between knowing, and hoping.”

Suddenly Greta was standing at the side of the table, setting down a tea kettle, steam curling up from the spout. “Some tea, Princess Celestia?” she asked as she put down a pair of empty tea cups. She had cleaned all the soot out of her feathers in an attempt to look presentable, but it only left her looking slightly damp.

“Thank you. That would be delightful,” the princess said, giving the hen a warm smile.

Greta nodded and carefully picked up the kettle in her talons to fill both cups. Without another word she set the kettle down and returned to the back of the shop, leaving Gilda alone with the princess. Celestia carefully picked up her cup in her golden magic, and took a sip at it.

Gilda didn’t care about the tea and pushed the cup away. Instead she sat there and tapped the tips of her talons on the table top as she waited for the princess to speak, but the mare just stayed focused on sipping her tea.

Finally, Gilda sighed and fanned her wings out slightly. “Well then princess, what do you want from me?”

Celestia set her cup down and gave Gilda a serious look. “I need your help to save the Griffon Kingdom.”

Ponies! They were all crazy, from the youngest filly all the way to the princesses themselves. “If you came here just to tell jokes, you can trot your thot plot right out of my shop.”

The princess let out a soft snicker. “While I do enjoy an occasional prank upon well meaning ponies, I assure that this is not the case. I wish to help the Griffon Kingdom, and at this moment you are in the best position to help me do that.”

“How? How could I possible help you!?”

“I wish to annex the Kingdom and make it a protectorate of Equestria. This is similar to the arrangement we made with the Crystal Empire after it returned. Your nation would remain semi-independent, keeping your own government and laws as long as they do not violate the third great charter. All citizens of the Kingdom will become citizens of Equestria and will be granted all the same rights and privileges as any pony,” Celestia said.

Gilda stared at the princess, now sure that the mare had completely lost her mind.

“In return we would be willing to help you rebuild your government and basic social services, as well as providing aid in the way of food, medicine and bits. After the initial work to rebuild and stabilize your government ponies will act mostly in an advisory role.”

Gilda ran her talons across the surface of the table, but not hard enough to dig into the wood. Most of the griffons in town were always hungry, pretty much every home was in disrepair, and the cold killed dozens of griffons every winter. There were no guards or fire patrol and if you were sick you had to go to a pony hospital or just prayed you got better. If a griffon wanted to do more than just sit on their tails, they had to go to Equestria. No griffon would admit it, but the whole country was in desperate need of help.

And now the princess was offering it.

“How can you do that? You can’t just show up and tell us that you’re taking over… can you?” Gilda asked.

The princess took another sip of tea before answering. “I cannot simply come in and take over your country, not if I wish it to have any meaning. I need more than that, I need some form of government to sign a treaty and accept the bits.”

Gilda let out a snort. “Which doesn’t exist.”

“That is why I need your help,” Celestia said, opening her saddle bag and floating out a number of papers. “While you do not have a government, your old laws still hold sway. In the Griffon Kingdom a King’s Regent can be appointed to rule in the King’s stead when he is unable to do so because of age or health. The Regent has all the powers of the King, and effectively is the King in all but name. There are two ways to appoint a griffon as the regent. One is by the King himself, the other is by a vote of the Council of Nobles.”

“The king is dead and all the nobles ran off to Equestria before Gruff was hatched. So, unless you want to bring them all back here, none of this matters,” Gilda replied.

Celestia shook her head and lifted a single sheet of paper with her magic to show it to Gilda. “There will be no need to involve the nobles. Not one of their families have paid any taxes or tributes in sixty years. By the old laws they have lost all claims to their lands and titles, and the only requirement to be on the Council of Nobles is to own land in the Kingdom.”

“So?”

The princess set the paper down. “There are no nobles to lay claim to the land, and while there are a number of roundabout laws, it effectively means that those who live on the land have taken ownership of it.”

Gilda shrugged her wings. “Yeah? But so what?”

The smallest of smiles appeared on the princess’s face as she sat a bit higher in her seat. “As I said, the only requirement to be on the council is to own land. You do not have to be a noble or even hold a title. The griffons of Griffonstone own the land they live on, and by owning the land they make up the Council of Nobles. That grants them the power to appoint a King’s Regent, who in turn will have the power to sign the treaty with Equestria. Once it’s signed, they will have to ratify it by the same process, but for Equestria only my signature is needed.”

Gilda let out a snort, crossed her forelegs and scratched her feathers with the tips of her talons. “Fine, fine. You’re going to pull off a bunch of political bullshit and create a government just so they can sign the country over to you. What do you even need my help for?”

“Because at the moment, you have the respect and attention of many of the griffons in town,” Celestia said, the smile vanishing from her face. “That’s more than I can claim. I need you to help rally those griffons to vote for a new regent, and they need to be fully aware of what is going to happen when they do. They need to know what they are going to gain… and lose.”

Gilda slumped down in her chair, lowering her head to rest her beak on her chest, trying hard not took back up at the princess. This was the most insane thing she had ever heard, it couldn’t possibly work. No griffon would vote to give their country to Equestria! She wasn’t even sure that she would vote for that.

It only took her a few moments to realize that she would. If it meant getting all the things that ponies had, she would vote to give them everything. But she went to a pony school, so of course she wouldn’t mind ponies in charge. What about the average griffon, what would they want?

She lifted her head and glanced towards the counter, where Greta was watching everything. Her friend had spent her whole life in Griffonstone, she would be much more likely to act like a normal griffon.

“What do you think?” Gilda asked.

Greta sighed and fluttered her wings a bit. “Anything is better than what we have now.”

“So, I must leave this in your claws and hope that you will be willing to make it happen,” Celestia said.

That got a sad chuckle from Gilda. “So I’m pretty much your last choice.”

“I wouldn’t go as far to say that,” the princess replied, using her magic to pick up the kettle and refill her tea cup. “What you are is exactly the sort of griffon that I need. One who other griffons trust and one who cares enough about where you live to try and improve it. While I would prefer to have some existing government to work with, you are the best choice I have.”

Celestia looked at her over the top of her cup, the smile back on her face even it was half hidden. There was also a look of excitement in her eyes, along with a touch of worry that she couldn’t quite hide. “And because as much as I wish to, I cannot do this alone.”

Gilda hesitated for a moment, looking around the shop in hope of some sort of distraction or even inspiration. All she saw was Greta looking back from the counter, and Skychart’s orange nose peeking in from the back room, but he dove back behind the door the moment he was spotted.

Finally she turned her attention back to the princess, who was just sitting there sipping her tea. “And you promise that this will make things better? Not just a griffon promise, but one of those unbreakable pony promises Dash tells me about.”

“I hope it will make it better,” Celestia responded.

Even a hatching could see exactly what the princess wasn’t saying. This wasn’t some storybook where a triumphant hero would show up and put everything to rights. Celestia’s plan could fail, or even make everything worse than before… but it could also work. It could help restore the Griffon Kingdom to what it once was. Though most griffons would just settle for having a warm nest and full bellies.

The princess was offering a lot, and she would need the help of every griffon to make it happen. And she was looking to Gilda to get that help.

“Fine, I’ll help you,” Gilda finally said. “I’ll get them to pick a regent, but you’re going to explain to them why.”

Celestia sagged slightly in her seat, her wings dropping as she closed her eyes, a long breath escaping from deep inside of her. “How long do you think it will take?”

With a chuckle, Gilda pushed back from the table. Ponies might like to take ages to deliberate and to debate about every little thing, but griffons were all about action. No griffon ever changed their minds by waiting around to make a decision. “Let’s find out,” she said, heading towards the door of the shop, the princess following a few moments later.
> Madness of Crowds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gilda stepped out of the bakery, head held high and wings slightly lifted and fanned out against her sides, not surprised to see that much of the town was waiting outside. They were perched on every surface and even hovering in the air, all of them trying to act like they hadn’t just been looking at her door. The whole place was filled with a lot of random squawking and other useless chatter. She had never seen so many griffons in one place before.

She stepped forward, giving Celestia enough room to follow her out. Scanning over the crowd, Gilda spotted Grandpa Gruff near the dead tree. The old buzzard might have been as annoying as a chunk of gristle, but he had a good head under that dumb hat of his and he didn’t take crap from anygriff. She couldn’t think of any other griffon who could do the job, she just had to not let him know about it beforehand.

Taking in a deep breath, she yelled out at the top of her lungs. “Hey, idiots!” Moments later the conversations all came to a stop and the flying griffons landed, pressing into the tightly packed crowd. A crowd that was now completely focused on her.

Gilda fought to keep her cool under so much attention, the force of it nearly crushing her. She squared her shoulders, and took a few more steps forward to put herself between them and the princess. No matter how confident she was trying to look, her thrashing tail made it clear just how nervous she really was. She ran her talons over her chest and fanned her wings out wider as she spoke.

“It turns out that the princess here wants to try and help us. Not just those of us here in Griffonstone, but all of us in the Griffon Kingdom,” she said, raising her voice as loud as she could.

A murmur went through the crowd, but they were still focused on her.

“Now we all know how ponies are, and I doubt that she’s talking out of her plot. It’s not like she can make anything worse around here! Here’s the deal. She wants to give us bits, food and all the help we need to rebuild this dump. She is going to give us everything.”

“What’s the catch?” some griffon in the crowd called out.

Gilda paused, glancing over her shoulder at Celestia before returning her attention the crowd. “You’re right, there is always a catch. Even when dealing with ponies. In this case it’s a big one, the Griffon Kingdom will become a part of Equestria.”

Silence fell over the square like a stone.

Celestia quickly stepped forward to stand beside Gilda, then started to speak, her voice effortlessly floating over the crowd. “The Griffon Kingdom will not cease to exist, it will be remade as a self governing part of Equestria. You will have your own laws, your own rulers and your own government. And you will all become citizens of Equestria, with all the rights and entitlements that every other citizen has.”

That didn’t seem to have an effect on the crowd as they all stared at both Gilda and Celestia with unblinking eyes.

The attention made Gilda’s wings sink slightly, but the princess hardly seemed to notice it as she continued. “I’m not looking to take away your homes, in fact I promise each and every one of you that you will be able to keep your land and your homes.”

“What if we don’t want to become a part of your happy magical pony land?” someone called out from deep in the crowd. A few seconds later the griffons parted around a young tom, exposing him to Celestia’s inevitable wrath.

The only thing Celestia did was smile at the young griffon. “Once your government and country are back on their hooves and no longer in need of ponies to help hold it up, you will be able to choose if you wish to remain a part of Equestria. It will be a number of years before that can happen, but when that day comes we will respect whatever you decide to do. I don’t want to take your country away from you, I want give it back to you.”

A new wave of murmuring started up in the crowd, but there was a different tone to it. They almost sounded hopeful as they spoke with each other, their voices growing louder by the moment. Gilda took that as her cue to step back in.

“Now, if we want this help from the ponies—to get the bits, and the food, and everything else she’s promising—if we are willing to become part of Equestria, then we need to appoint a ‘King’s Regent’,” she made air quotes with her talons. “To do that, we need to have ourselves a little vote. If the majority of us can decide on the poor son-of-Discord who gets the job, we can—“

“That’s you!” a voice yelled out from the back of the crowd.

Gilda didn’t even have time to correct them before another voice spoke up, “I second that!”

“Wait—“ she called out, but couldn’t even finished the thought before being interrupted again.

“All in favor?” the first voice yelled out. A moment later the crowd broke into a roar that seemed to shake the whole town. It was as if a thundercloud had gone off right on top of Gilda, the sound loud enough to make her guts quake.

Gilda found herself frozen in place, looking out over the crowd as the echoes faded away. This had all gone wrong and she had no idea how to fix it. This was a job for Gruff, not for her! “Anyone against?” she squawked out, her voice cracking around the words.

There were a few scattered cries, but they were almost silence compared to what had come before.

“Crap,” She muttered under her breath, pinching the top of her beak with her talons. It took a few moments to compose herself, brushing her talons down over her keel, smoothing out the feathers that had been ruffled.

Lifting her head, she glared out at the crowd. “Fine! If you want me to do it, then I’ll bucking do it!” she snapped, then with a huff she spun around in place and stalked back into the shop. She wanted to slam the door in her wake, but Celestia was following as close as the tuft on her tail.

The princess closed the door the moment they were both inside the shop. “That… was unexpected.”

Gilda spun around to face the princess, her feathers and fur bristling and she jabbed the tip of one talon against the gem on the mare’s chest piece. “I don’t like this! I don’t know how to do any of this crap that you want me to do. I’m a flyer and a baker, I’m not some… some… politician!” she spat out the word, finding that it tasted as foul as it sounded.

That didn’t seem to bother the princess, she just smiled that annoying smile of hers that never quite seemed to reach her eyes. “Gilda, they trust you enough to task you with this job. More may be asked of you in the future, but for now all you need to do is stand as Regent.”

“I don’t have to like it,” she grumbled, pulling away from Celestia and stalking back to the table, dropping into her chair with a heavy thud.

The princess nodded as she sat back down, lighting her horn and lifting a thick scroll out of her saddle bag. Her golden magic danced across the surface as she set it down in front of Gilda. “This is the treaty.”

“Fine, where do I sign?” Gilda asked, crossing her forelegs.

“I would recommend that you read it first. The last thing you want is to be surprised by some detail when you can no longer change it,” she warned.

That made Gilda roll her eyes. “I don’t care about that. Once this thing is done we can get a new king and then it’s off my wings,” she replied as she picked up the scroll.

Celestia shook her head, sending a wave along the length of her floating mane. “It will not be a king, such a position would outrank my sister and myself. Just as with the Crystal Empire, your new ruler will be a princess. Or a prince in the case of a male leader. Regardless of that, you still should read it.”

“I don’t care what the fine print says. Just be honest with me, is there anything in this treaty of yours that will be bad for griffons?” Gilda asked.

“I do not believe that is the case,” was the princess’s exacting reply.

Nodding, Gilda started to dig at the wax seal on the scroll. “Fine, where do I sign?” she asked.

Celestia frowned, the mask that she always wore on her face falling away for a moment to show a number of worry lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. “Gilda, while griffons as a whole should not be harmed by this treaty, the same cannot be said for yourself. If you sign this you will—“

“I don’t care!” she snapped, slamming a foreclaw onto the table. “I trust you. You ponies are stupidly honest, so I trust you. Now. Where. Do. I. Sign?”

Celestia lowered her head, every emotion falling away to leave her face completely blank. She sat that way for a few moments before letting out a heavy sigh, her violet eyes locking with Gilda’s. “Then on your own head be it,” she said.

Her horn glowed again as she reached back into her bags as the warmth returned to her face, pulling out two quills and a pot of ink and setting them on the table. “You need to sign at the start of the scroll, declaring that you are the appointed King’s Regent. Then you will need to sign at the end of the document, as will I. Once we both sign it, it can no longer be changed. It must be ratified by your people through another vote, but once that’s done it will become binding, and your kingdom will become part of Equestria.” She carefully worked free the stopper on the ink as she spoke, not spilling a drop of it.

“Good,” Gilda replied, finally breaking the seal and rolling out the scroll. Taking the quill, she dipped it into the ink and carefully wrote out her name at the start of the document, making sure it was as perfect as she could make it. After waiting a few moments for the ink to dry she unrolled the rest of the scroll—which was at least three wings long—and allowed the excess to spill across the table. It was covered with so many words that even the thought of reading it gave her a headache. At the very end of it was a place for two signatures: hers and Celestia’s.

Dipping the quill back into the ink, she put her familiar scrawling signature on the line, then pushed the document over to the princess. “There.”

Celestia took the quill in her magic as she turned the treaty to face her. Quickly she applied her long and looping signature to the document, the ink talking on a glittery shine as she wrote. The moment she lifted the quill from the parchment there was a flash of magic as the document was sealed, unalterable by anypony.

“I will make a duplicate of this and have the copy sent to Canterlot. After that I will start to arrange the transfer of bits and aid while you arrange for it to be ratified. I suggest that you should give them at least two weeks to allow them to read it first,” she said as she carefully rolled the scroll back up.

“Thank you, Princess Celestia,” Gilda said, slumping back down into her chair, the energy just draining from her as her wings sagged until her primaries were brushing the floor. This was the biggest thing she had ever done in her life, and all because she had made a bakery.

“You are very welcome,” Celestia replied, pausing for a moment to give her a smile. “Princess Gilda.”

It took about three seconds for what the mare had said to sink in. “What!?” Gilda squawked, pushing back from the table with enough force to send her chair tumbling backwards, only a flap of her wings keeping her from going down with it.

The princess’s smile turned into a smirk that wouldn’t look out of place on a griffon. “Section Seventeen, about the establishment of your new ongoing government. The highest title is, as I said before, princess, and to insure the continuity of government it will be bestowed upon the highest-ranking authority in the previous government. Or to put it simply, you are now the ruler of the Griffon Kingdom.”

Gilda stared at the mare is disbelief for a few moments before putting her face into her foreclaws. “Oh bucking hell, you’re not kidding, are you?”

“No, not in this case. I did try to tell you, even after you refused to read the treaty, but you insisted. Of course, once the government is established and functioning you can step down, but it will take a great deal of time and effort to reach that point.”

She let out a groan and pressed her face deeper into her palms.

Celestia placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Gilda, your people not only choose you, but did so very enthusiastically. I think you will do well leading them.”

Lifting her head up, Gilda glared at the princess, wishing she had the guts to rake her talons across that smug face.

The mare pulled her hoof away, picking up a second scroll from her bag. She held it, the treaty, and the bottle of ink together in her magic. There was a flash of power, and a stream of golden letters flowed from one scroll and into the bottle of ink, then from there they continued down into the second scroll.

Gilda watched the princess, trying to find the right words to say but discovering that she had nothing left. All she could do was stare as she sank back to the ground, dropping onto her belly the moment her feet touched down. Her head was spinning as she tried to comprehend what had just happened, she didn’t even know if it was possible to describe it in just words. Her whole life was suddenly turned upside-down, and she had no idea what to do about it. This wasn’t what she wanted! She wasn’t a leader, she didn’t know how to make speeches or rally griffons or anything else that a leader needed to do. She wasn’t a princess.

After the magic faded away, Celestia took the copy of the scroll and tucked it into her saddle bag as the original went back on the table. “Now, there is one last thing we must attend to before we go and introduce you to your people,” she said, lifting a bundle of cloth out of her saddle bags and setting it on the table.

Slowly, Gilda climbed back into her chair, glancing over to the counter where Greta and Skychart were watching with open mouths. They were both her employees and Greta was her oldest friend. She was glad they were there, because for the first time in her life she felt like she really needed help, that she couldn’t do this alone.

Not sure what else to do, she reached out and unfolded the cloth to reveal a pair of crowns. One she recognized from the history Gruff had forced into her head; it was the crown of King Grover. The gold was worn in places, but it had been polished and the ruby glittered with its own light. The second crown was much smaller, and much closer to the style of what Celestia wore: a tiara with a trio of points rising from it, the center one was taller than the two flanking it. In the center of each point was a large sapphire, and like the first crown, it too was made of gold.

“Which one would you like?” the princess asked.

Gilda froze, her eyes going wide as she looked at the crowns. This was really happening, suddenly the whole kingdom was on her shoulders and the crown would make it official. There had to be a way out of it, Celestia would never sign a treaty that didn’t have a way out. She could just run out the door and fly as far as her wings could take her. No griffon would question her on it, Celestia could just find some other idiot willing to be a princess. Just run away and never look back…

She curled one claw into a fist and pressed it against her keel. The idea of her running away was ridiculous, she had never run away from anything in her life! Not school, not bullies, not even her ‘not really’ family. She wasn’t always the bravest, or the smartest, or the nicest, but nothing would make her turn tail and run like a hatchling.

Letting out a breath, she let her eyes focus on the crowns. Then, she reached out a trembling claw and picked up the smaller one. She held it for a moment, looking at it like it was about to bite her beak off before carefully put it on her head. It hardly weighed anything, even though she felt crushed under it. “I feel like a peacock,” she muttered.

“Well, I think you look grand,” Celestia replied.

“It does suit you,” Skychart quipped from his place by the counter. It was enough to attract Celestia’s attention, causing the pegasus to let out a yelp and duck back under cover.

Greta walked around the counter and up to the table. She paused for a moment to look at Gilda, then smiled and gave her a deep bow. “Your Highness.”

“Don’t you dare start that with me,” Gilda said, poking a talon at her friend. “I’m still your boss and I still want the stoves working.”

The green tinged griffon smiled. “Of course Gilda, I’ll get back to that once we’re done with Princess Celestia,” she replied, giving a slight nod to the mare.

The princess smiled and walked over to Gilda, using a bit of magic to adjust the new crown and her feathers. “Come now, let us go and introduce you to your griffons,” she declared, then walked back to the front door, opening it with her magic.

Gilda slowly followed after, suddenly even more unsure about what her future held.
> Ill Winds
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first blush it seemed like it would be a good morning; the sky over Canterlot was clear, the sun was bright, and Lord Greycrest was in a pleasant mood. Even the house staff was doing exactly as they were supposed to do without having to be told a thing. It was one of those rare mornings where everything was running like clockwork, exactly how the old griffon liked it.

After a quick shower and a preen he walked down the stairs to the solarium. The pony chef was already standing at the side of the room after setting out his meal, including a thick helping of ham and eggs. To her credit, the chef no longer seemed to be bothered by the meat on his plate at every meal, and she had mastered preparing it in all respects. It was far more than he had expected from a pony, let alone an earth pony, but he had made sure to reward her with a few extra bits in her pay.

He was just about to sit down when there came a pounding at the front door, loud enough to echo all the way to the back of the house. Greycrest frowned at that, glancing at the clock on the wall, it was too early for anyone reasonable to come calling. His thin panther tail flicked in annoyance at the intrusion into his routine.

Across the house he heard the butler open the door and speak to whomever was on the other side. Which was followed by a familiar voice demanding to see him. With a sigh, the griffon resigned himself to a cold meal later in the morning. “You may let him in to see me,” he called out.

A few moments later a very flustered looking Prince Blueblood walked into the room, a deep frown on his lips and his blond mane out of place. It was not a look one often saw on the unicorn; whatever his reason for the early morning visit it must have been truly serious.

“What is wrong?” he asked, not quite snapping out the words.

“This just came from Auntie this morning. She is going to deliver it to parliament this afternoon,” he said, pulling a scroll out of someplace in his mane and floating it over. He was trying and failing to compose himself as he did so, his eye twitching slightly.

Greycrest raised an eyebrow as he plucked the scroll from the prince’s magic, wondering what in the world Princess Celestia could do that would concern him, let alone send Blueblood to him in such a state. While she was an effective leader, she did that by being calm and collected in her every action, and always presenting herself as if she had a plan at all times. She didn’t go around being rash like some of the younger princesses.

He unrolled the scroll, squinting a little to read it without his glasses. It was an official declaration of a new treaty between Equestria and the Griffon Kingdom. A treaty that would… he paused and reread it again, holding the parchment closer to ensure that the words said what he feared they said. “What on heaven and earth does that senile mare think she is doing?” he asked in awe, looking back at Blueblood.

“Taking over your country,” the prince explained.

His gaze moved between the stallion and the parchment, his mind refusing to believe it even as he read it for a third time. He had no idea who this Gilda was, let alone why she was signing away their country or being called a princess. If it was true—and how could it be—it was treason, there was no other word for it. The idea that some upstart hen with delusions of grandeur just… declaring herself a princess! Why, the whole idea was absurd, yet somehow Princess Celestia had fallen for it.

There were many things he could ignore about living in Equestria, the lack of decent butchers, the constant singing, and even the lack of any sort of sane fiscal policy, but not this. This was an affront to his history, his family name and his dignity—as well as that of every other griffon. He was the ambassador damn it! He was the one who was supposed to negotiate treaties.

Carefully he rolled the scroll back up and sat it on the table next to his meal. “I must speak with Princess Celestia before she delivers this. This cannot stand!”

“I’ll arrange for it,” Blueblood said with a slight bow of his head before rushing back out of the room.

Closing his eyes, Greycrest rubbed the back of one foreclaw against his keel. He had to put a stop to this before it got out of claw. “Edmund!” he bellowed out, the cry echoing sharply through the whole of his large manor.

It only took a few moments for his son to arrive in the solarium. The young griffon must have been up for a while as his dark brown feathers and black fur had been properly groomed and preened. “Yes Father?”

“You are to leave for Griffonstone immediately. You are to find out who this upstart princess is and tell her that I will be coming to deal with her personally,” he ordered.

His son cocked his head slightly to one side. “I don’t understand, what princess? And you always said we were never to go to Griffonstone, that it was a waste of stone and wood.”

“The situation has changed,” the elder griffon snapped. “You must go on the first train and find out who this hen is and where she came from. I want to know everything about her when I confront her about this insanity.”

“Sir?” he asked, confusion on his face.

He snorted into the air. “Yes. Yes, I will not let this stand. No hen is going to take over the Kingdom, not while I’m around.” A low growl was rising up from deep inside his feline half. “You will find this hen, find out who she is! Then I will come down on her with beak and talons for having the audacity to crown herself princess and give away our country!”

Never mind the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to put a single feather into the Kingdom for the majority of his life. It was a horrible place that was just one good riot away from burning to the ground. That wasn’t the point.

“I don’t understand, what hen are you speaking of?” Edmund asked.

“The one calling herself princess, the one who is giving our home away to the ponies,” Greycrest snapped.

A few moments passed, and Edmund was still standing inside the doorway, which was not what needed to be done. “Did you hear me? Are your ears full of feathers? GO!” he bellowed with the full force of his large lungs.

His son scrambled away as fast as his feet could carry him.

The griffon was left standing alone in the solarium, ignoring the chef that was still standing off to the side of the room. The pony was looking very intently at the far wall with her ears pinned to the side of her head. She knew better than to speak about anything that had just happened.

Greycrest looked back at his food and let out a disgusted sigh. “Take this away Apple Cobbler, I no longer have an appetite.”

“Yes, sir,” the mare said, moving quickly to take his plate and whisking away. He didn’t see where she had taken it, instead he calmly launched himself into the air, flying through the house and up the stairs to the master suite. If he was going to pay a visit to the princess, he was going to look the part of the ambassador he claimed to be.





No matter how angry he was, or how insulted he felt, even Greycrest knew better than to throw open the doors to the throne room and march inside—no matter how much he wanted to. To any other pony it would have been a show of power, one that would help swing the balance in his direction and put them off hoof, but the princess was not so easily swayed by such theatrics. Instead, he waited just outside the imposing doors for the guards to properly announce him, allowing him a few moments to contemplate how he was going to deal with the situation.

He was dressed for the occasion in a high collared white jacket that contrasted with the tan of his feathers. A row of bronze buttons ran down his chest, each one having been polished to the point where they were almost glowing. A number of small medals were pinned to the jacket; most of them stood for very little but they helped make him look imposing. He even wore the dark red shoulder cords that represented his honorary rank in the Kingdom’s army, or would have if it still existed.

Finally, the doors opened, and one of the identical guards motioned for him to enter. He strode into the throne room, head held high and wings fluffed out slightly over his back. His eyes locked upon Celestia. The mare was sitting upon her throne reading a document that was being held in the glow of another unicorn’s magic.

She made a point of ignoring Greycrest for a few more moments as she picked up a quill and signed the parchment. With one more look she returned the quill to the inkwell. “Leave us,” she instructed.

The unicorn mare nodded, taking the papers and inkwell in her magic as she left out a small side door. At the same time the guards standing on either side of the throne room door stepped outside, closing them in their wake.

Unexpectedly, he found himself alone with Celestia. This was something he had not prepared himself for.

“You seem rather troubled,” Celestia said, a hint of a smile fluttering at the corner of her lips.

“That is putting it mildly,” he replied, pulling his wings down against his back as he stood his ground under the weight of her attention. “What do you think you are doing in the Griffon Kingdom? What right do you have to make it a part of Equestria, let alone to make some random hen the new leader of my country? The very idea of it is so absurd, I would think it came from that pet dragon thing you keep.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

He snorted, his wings flexing against his back but he refused to let them open. “Is that all you have to say? You went into my country, my home, and appointed a new leader. You have no right, no matter what silly law you think you are following, you do not have the right!” he slammed a foreclaw against the marble floor. It was supposed to emphasize his statement, but all it did was hurt his talons.

Greycrest gave her a moment to respond, but she sat as motionless as a statue. Undaunted he continued. “Whoever this Gilda is, she has no right or heritage to be any sort of princess. She is a fake, a fake you’re trying to put on the throne. I will not stand for it. I’m the ambassador for the Griffon Kingdom, if you wished some agreement then you need to go through me, not just show up and make a fool of yourself!”

An amused smile crossed over Celestia’s face as she rose from her throne. “Tell me Lord Greycrest, you say that the Griffon Kingdom is your home, but you were born in Equestria, as were your parents. You have never lived in the Kingdom, in fact I doubt you have spent more than a fortnight there in your entire life. To call it your home is a grand exaggeration.”

He tried not to react, but still winced at the truth of her words. “Where I was born does not change my home,” was about all he could think of to counter her.

“Yes, I suppose there is some truth to that,” she said as slowly walking down the few steps from the throne to loom above him. He wanted to fan out his wings and try to make himself look bigger, but he held it back. If it was to be a contest of intimidation she would easily win; her wings were far larger than his.

Celestia continued speaking. “But when it comes to the statement that you are the ambassador for the Griffon Kingdom, there is no truth to it at all. Your grandfather was the ambassador, appointed to serve in Equestria by King Guto himself. But once he died your family moved all their wealth to your estate here, and never returned. A fortune of well over a million talons. What is that now worth? Ten bits, maybe even twelve?”

He wanted to tell her off for insulting his family, but he still held his beak. Partly out of respect for the princess but mostly because she was right. He still had quite a few talons tucked away in the family vault, but no one accepted them anymore. They were worthless as currency.

“Assuming that the title of ambassador has become hereditary, one must ask what government you are the ambassador for? Because by all measures there hasn’t been one in your lifetime. You can stand here and pound the floor as much as you would like, but it will change nothing. Gilda was King’s Regent by your own laws—“

“Pinfeathers! Not one member of Council of Nobles voted to—“

The princess interrupted his interruption. “That is because none of the griffon nobles living in Equestria are on the Council. In fact, there are no longer any nobles left to sit upon it. To a one you have all forfeited your claim to your titles and lands. I’m sorry Greycrest, but you do not have a single feather left to protest this.”

He narrowed his eyes, glaring up at the mare. “Princess Celestia, you are not known for being stupid. So I must wonder what fever has overtaken your mind to spout such nonsense.”

That must have touched a nerve as she glared intently down at him, fire starting to dance in her eyes. “Gilda was made regent, and it was with that authority she signed the treaty that made her a princess. If you wish to protest, I would suggest you fly to Griffonstone as fast as you can, as it was ratified yesterday.”

Greycrest’s eyes bugged out. “By whom?”

“By those who have the power to do so. If you wish to know more you should go back to ‘your home’ and find out for yourself. But kn­ow this Lord Greycrest, the treaty is binding. In three days, at the height of the sun, the Griffon Kingdom will become a part of Equestria, and Princess Gilda will be its leader. There will be a great deal of work to rebuild the country into something other than the broken pit that and your fellow nobles were content to leave it.”

His wings ruffled and rose up over his back as he clawed his talons at the marble floor. “I will take this to the parliament, you cannot—“

Celestia was suddenly standing nose to beak with him, her eyes alight with flame as they locked with his and her horn hovering just inches over his head. The shock of the move caused him to fan his wings out as wide as they would go, his tail fluffing out behind him even as he felt himself sinking towards the floor.

“When it comes to the borders of Equestria, the first charter grants the royalty the final and only say,” Celestia said, like she was explained to a child. “The parliament can protest all it wants, but they are powerless to change that and they know it. I can and will do this, and if you have an issue with it then you must take it up with Princess Gilda. If you are nice to her maybe she will allow you to keep the title you are so impressed by. Now, you are dismissed,” she stated, then turned away from him and started back to her throne.

“But—“

“You are dismissed!” she snapped. “You will remove yourself from the palace or I will have the guards do it for you.”

Greycrest stared up at her, searching for anything he could say to try and change her mind. She looked back down at him as she sat on her throne, her eyes filled with anger. Slowly he closed his wings and turned to walk out of the throne room. The Princess might think she had the authority to do something so audacious as this, but he was sure that the parliament would have something to say about it. And even if they did not, there were other avenues to pursue.

This would not be allowed to happen. Not as long as he could do anything to prevent it.
> Cooped
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Equestrian train system was both the oldest, and the most expansive in the world. It connected every ground based city in the country, and the majority of the smaller towns. It was said that any given pony was no more than a day’s trot away from a station. That between the trains, carriages and canals, one could get almost anywhere in the country in only a matter of days.

So Edmund was surprised to discover that there was only one train a week to Griffonstone, and while it started in Canterlot, it seemed to go through every single town and village along the way before making a long stop in Baltimare. Luckily the next train was leaving that day, but while the train left Canterlot Station just after noon, it wouldn’t arrive in Griffonstone until the following afternoon.

He was not looking forward to spending a full day stuck inside of a train, a train with no first-class accommodations and a dining car that would be staying behind in Baltimare. Twenty-six hours stuck sitting on a bench that was too small for a griffon chick, let alone a full grown tom.

At least he was able to buy both of the tickets on his bench, as well as the pair of the bench across from his. It would give him some room to stretch out his legs and wings. There might have been enough room inside of the train cars for a pegasus to hover, but only a pegasus.

Edmund expected it to be a miserable trip, a trip he still didn’t understand why he was even taking. His father’s rambling about a princess hadn’t made any sense, and there was nothing in the morning paper that could have set him off.

Still, it was not wise to go against the elder griffon’s authority, so no matter how much he didn’t want to, he was off to Griffonstone.

The train was only half full when it pulled out of the station, but it seemed just moments later it stopped at the first of many small villages along the way to let a few ponies off. The whole first leg of the trip was like that, starting and stopping over and over again. Otherwise, it was a fairly quiet trip for the eight hours it took to get to Baltimare. It gave him a chance to catch up on his reading, plowing through one of the trashy romance novels that the ponies in Canterlot seemed to love.

They did pick up a few griffons from the village just outside of Baltimare, but Edmund paid them no mind. It was only once they pulled into the station that Edmund realized that something had happened. The platform was filled with griffons, hundreds of them all packed in and fighting for a position closer to the platform edge. There were a number of uniformed ponies trying to hold back the crowd—and all but one was an earth pony—but it was barely enough.

He could hear the shouts and cries of the griffons over the sound of the train’s breaks as it lurched to a stop. Never before had he seen so many griffs in a single place. Young and old, hens and toms, it was like every griffon in the city wanted to get on the train. The whole crowd started to press forward the moment the train car doors slid open, even as the station staff tried to force them back to allow ponies to get off the train first.

It only took a couple of minutes to get most of the ponies off the train. They quickly grabbed their bags and left the platform at a full gallop, trying to avoid being crushed.

Edmund looked down the length of the car, towards the only pony remaining in it. “What in the world is going on?”

“I don’t know,” the mare replied. “I’ve never seen it this crowded before.”

He frowned, fluffing his wings out and then pulling them back against his sides. Outside the griffons were still being held back from the train, even more ponies having joined in the line to keep them in place. One stallion in a conductor’s hat was at the head of the crowd, checking tickets one at a time before letting a griffon through.

If everygriff on the platform had a ticket for the train, it was going to become an extremely uncomfortable trip.

“Excuse me, sir?” A voice asked from behind him.

Edmund turned, finding another conductor standing next to his bench. The stallion had a professional look about him, but there were still lines of worry across his face, his ears twitching every few moments.

“Yes?” Edmund asked.

The conductor cleared his throat. “The train is going to be full all the way to Griffonstone.”

“I can see that, what happened to cause it?”

The stallion glanced back out the window towards the platform before returning his attention to Edmund. “The reason I wish to speak with you, is that you have the only empty seats left on the train. We are trying to rearrange every creature so we can get more griffons onboard, and if we can move two ponies to the open bench we should have enough room for a family.”

He lifted an eyebrow, looking the stallion up and down. He was surprised they wouldn’t just put a single griffon on the bench (there was simply no room for two unless one was a chick). Of course if they were trying to shift ponies around to keep a family together… well he wasn’t so selfish not to help those in need.

“Fine, go ahead,” he said with a wave of his claw. It was going to make it tighter for him, but he didn’t really need the other bench, it was just for his convenience. He could deal with it.

A smile flashed over the conductor’s face. “Thank you so much. I’ll arrange a refund of your extra tickets once we reach Griffonstone,” he said before turning and trotting away.

Edmund sat up as the stallion headed down the aisle. “Yes, but what is going on? Why are so many griffons trying to get to Griffonstone?”

The pony came to a stop, turning back to look at him. “I don’t know, sir. It’s been so crazy here that I haven’t been able to find out, every ticket sold out within an hour as well as an extra train tomorrow. There was something in the evening papers, that’s all I know.”

With a sigh, Edmund sank back down onto the bench. “Thank you anyways,” he said, tucking his tail around his hips as his wings fluttered in frustration. While he wasn’t happy about the situation, it was pointless to try and take it out on the stallion, he was just doing his job and getting mad wouldn’t help anyone.

Griffons soon started to file into the train car, a few of them glancing his way but otherwise they stayed preoccupied with each other. He watched them very carefully, while many of them were young—a few of them still hadn’t even grown into their primaries—a number of them were middle aged or older. Many of the young ones appeared to be students judging by their saddles bags. They all looked a bit frazzled, with feathers out of place and puffed up, yet there was also an air of excitement around them. Many of them were talking to each other in hushed tones about something he couldn’t quite make out.

A pair of ponies entered the car between the griffons. Both were unicorns and both had heavily packed saddle bags hanging from their flanks. The two of them, a stallion and a mare, stopped at the bench across from Edmund, pushing their bags under the seat (the mare having to use her magic to force it into the tight space) before sitting down.

“Thank you so much,” the stallion said as he sat on the bench. “You have no idea just how much you helped us.”

Edmund just gave them a flat look. “Do you at least know what has gotten everygriff so riled up?”

“You don’t know?” The mare asked, pulling back in shock even as the stallion pulled his bag free with a yank of his magic, digging inside for a few moments before pulling out a copy of the evening newspaper and passing it over to the griffon.

He took the paper in his talons and unfolded the front page, revealing the headline to him.


Griffon Kingdom to Become Part of Equestria!


Edmund just stared at the paper, reading the words over and over again as if somehow they would start to make some sort of sense. Finally he opened the paper and started skimming over the story, his stomach dropping all the way down to his paws as he suddenly understood exactly what his father’s ranting had been about and what the old tom wanted him to do.

The two ponies watched his reaction, his eyebrows rising up into the feathers of his crest. “You really didn’t know?” the stallion asked.

“No, I did not,” Edmund replied, slowly folded up the paper and rested it on the bench next to him. “Though clearly my father somehow knew about this. He sent me to Griffonstone this morning.”

The ponies glanced at each other, eyes narrowing as they made small motions with their eyes and ears. Finally the mare turned her attention back to Edmund. “I’m Linecast, and this is Linotype, we’re with the Canterlot Chronicle. We were covering the Baltimare Garlic Festival when Celestia announced the treaty this afternoon. We’re hoping to be the first press to reach Griffonstone.”

A small smile crept onto Edmund’s beak. While ponies seemed to put an inordinate amount of faith in friendship and fairness, they weren’t really that different from griffons when it came to the important things in life.

Even more griffons were pressing into the train car, starting to fill up every available bench and even crowding into the aisle. Most of them were trying to press two to a bench, which often resulted in a griffon being forced onto the floor. The only ones with any reasonable amount of room was himself and the two reporter ponies, even the other pony in the car was shoved up next to an excited griffon hen.

“Now, you said that your father sent you to Griffonstone. Who is your father, and how did he know to send you this morning?” Linecast asked, having pulled out a small notepad from her saddle bag. It hung in the pink glow of her magic, the tip of a pencil was pressed up against the sheet.

“My father is Ambassador Greycrest,” Edmund replied, finding no harm in being honest with them for the moment. “I do not know how he knew, perhaps Celestia decided to inform him before making any official proclamations.”

The two ponies shared another look as the stallion pulled out his own notepad, this one held in a dark green magical glow. They both wrote something as the train car grew louder as more griffons started squawking at each other due to the lack of space.

“If the ambassador is your father, then who are you?” Linecast asked.

“Edmund,” he replied with a shrug of his wings.

“Well, Edmund, do you mind if we ask you some questions?” Linotype asked, a predatory gleam shining in his greenish blue eyes.





The night had settled over Griffonstone, pulling down the familiar chill of the high mountain air, but it had done nothing to temper the spirits of the griffons in town. There were a number of bonfires burning all around the town—thankfully no buildings—with griffons gathered all around them, talking, laughing, or passing around some hard won drinks. There was a spirit of celebration about it, a feeling of relief, like heavy rains after a long drought. It had calmed down slightly since that morning, when Gilda had announced that the referendum on the treaty had passed, and would become official in mere days.

There had been a small part of Gilda that had hoped the griffons would come to their senses and reject the treaty, freeing her of her new unwanted title. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what had happened. Instead, nearly three quarters of the country had voted for it, and unlike herself she had made sure that they all had time to read over every line of it.

And now the griffons were celebrating becoming a part of Equestria—with a few exceptions, judging by the brick that had gone through her window that evening—but they were a small minority. If anygriff had told her just a few weeks ago that the griffons would want to live like ponies, she would have laughed in their face.

At least they weren’t breaking out in song! She couldn't even begin to imagine just how bad a thousand griffons all trying to carry a tune would be.

Gilda herself was lying down on the roof of her home—a place that had been meant to become a bakery but now had turned into some kind of throne room. Her stomach was pressed against the clay tiles and her wings were spread out to help break up her shape in the dark. She was hiding from all the griffons that had been trying to see her the whole damn day, not that she would ever admit it.

The fact that it gave her a good view of the town, and all the celebrating griffons, had nothing at all to do with why she was up there.

A few moments later, there was a wash of air as Grandpa Gruff flared his wings to land on the roof, dropping with a thud at her side. The old buzzard pulled his wings closed as he gave her a stern look with his one good eye. “Hiding doesn’t make you much of a princess.”

She just rolled her eyes and looked back over the town. “Do you see a crown on my head? I’m not trying to be a princess, at least not right now.”

Gruff snorted and slapped his tail against her flank. “Try? Who the hell tries to be a princess? It’s a part of who you are now, Gilda. You don’t stop being a princess just because you took off some stupid crown.”

She folded her foreclaws over each other and rested her chin on top of them. “I don’t want to be a princess. What kind of job is that for a griffon?”

“It’s your job,” he replied, moving to perch on the edge of the roof, his good eye never looking away from her.

“It was supposed to be your job,” she replied.

That made him chuckle as he pulled off his fez, setting it down on the roof between them. His bald head glowed brightly in the moonlight. “No griff would have wanted me to be a princess. They like you, but they just put up with me.”

Gilda let out a snort, finally lifting her head to look back at him. “You raised half the griffs in town, myself included.”

“Hardly,” he said with a snort of his own, though there was just the smallest hint of a smile peeking out of the corner of his beak. The old tom was the closest thing she had ever had to a father, much like a half a dozen other cuckoos who had grown up under his wings. At the moment he only had two beaks to feed, Grizzle and Gallus, but they were both a clawful.

“Most of them didn’t amount to much,” Gruff finally admitted. “I don’t like to fall into that sentimental sap of saying you were meant for great things, because that’s a pile of minotaur manure. You were always going to make the life that you wanted, and when you found something you wanted you sank your talons into it and never let go.”

Gilda wanted to protest that, but found that she couldn’t. “I never wanted to be a princess,” she said.

“No, Gilda. You just wanted to make the griffons here happier,” Gruff replied, and before she could say anything in protest he preemptively cut her off. “Oh, don’t try and deny it. That’s why you like being a baker. Your scones put smiles on their beaks, and you like how that makes you feel. These last couple of years you’ve done everything you can to make Griffonstone a better place.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “I just wanted a proper bakery.”

Gruff turned his head to look at her with both of his eyes. “And why did you want that? If you just wanted to bake you could have used your cart, so why did you have to build a shop? And why did you hire your friend and that pony? And why did you put it right in the center of town? Hum?”

“Because I wanted to make bits!” she snapped.

With a chuckle, he slowly shook his head. “You’re just like your little sister. You never cared about bits.”

“Gabriella is not my sister,” she growled. “We just grew up together because you were the only one stupid enough to feed either of us.”

Grandpa Gruff smiled, then reached out to place a claw on the small of her back, resting it between the base of her wings. “Gilda, you want to make this hellhole just a little bit better,” he said, the hardness of his voice melting slightly. “The griffons around here would never have accepted me leading them, but you’ve connected with them. You did make this place better, even if it was just a little bit, and they remember that. They made you the princess because they knew that of all griffons here, you would actually try and make this better for everygriff.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, slowly letting out a long breath as she let that sink in. “Do you really think I can do this, Grandpa Gruff? That I can lead all of us and somehow restore the Griffon Kingdom to its former glory?”

“Nope,” he replied.

Gilda’s eyes shot back open as she glared at the old bastard. “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” she snarled.

He just shook his head. “What former glory, hum? A bunch of nobles fighting over every last talon and leaving the scraps for the rest of us? No griff wants to go back to living like that! I think that you and those ponies can rebuild the kingdom into something better than a bunch of griffs worshiping that damn idol.”

“Really?”

He reached out and gently ran his talons over the feathers of her head. “Really.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. It was one thing to have Princess Celestia think that she could somehow make Griffonstone a better place, but Grandpa Gruff?

A moment later he pulled his claws away and grabbed his fez, slamming it back onto his head. “And you had better do it too, as you still owe me all the bits I spent raising you,” he said, then leapt off the roof.

Gilda watched the buzzard vanish into the night, then turned her attention back to the town. She had no idea if Gruff was right, but he had always been there for her. When she went to a pony school, chased after her old friend, or tried to build a bakery, he was always there for her. He might have been hard, he might have been mean, but he had always believed in her.

And if Grandpa Gruff could believe in her, then maybe she really could find it in herself to be a princess.
> Griffons on the Streets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When there were a hundred griffons crammed into a train car made for a hundred ponies, there was very little in the way of comfort or tail room. By the time night had fallen, every creature inside was tired of the cramped quarters. The air was heavy with cast off down and there was a thick scent of dirt and sweat that covered every surface. All the windows had been opened to try and allow some ventilation of the stale air, and while it helped a little, it had also brought in some of the smoke from the engine that was pulling them along.
 
Edmund was thankful for the extra space on his bench, it allowed him enough room to lie down, which gave him a chance to try and sleep, but that only came in fits and starts. There was no peace to be found on the train, there was always the noise of griffs growling at each other for getting in the way, or a few shouts now and then. It was only the lack of room that prevented any fights from breaking out.
 
The only creatures who got any sleep were the two reporters, and only because each unicorn knew how to cast a spell to encase themselves in silence. A spell that was only large enough for one pony to use.
 
The situation didn’t improve once the sun rose. Everything in the train car felt like it was covered in a layer of grime. It soaked into Edmund’s feathers and fur and left him wishing for a shower, but all he could do was wait in misery along with every other griff on the train. The last few hours of the trip seemed to take a lifetime, the train was slowing down as it laboriously climbed up into the mountains.
 
After what seemed like a lifetime, the train finally made it to its destination.
 
Seconds after the train came to a stop in the station, someone opened the door and they all poured out onto the platform. Edmund quickly threw his bag over his back and followed the crowd, glad to finally have reached Griffonstone.
 
That was the moment he realized that while the station may have been named after the town, the town itself was nowhere near the station. In fact, there was nothing near the station other than a second dead-end track and a large water tower being fed by the glaciers high in the mountains above them.
 
Almost every griffon that had been with him on the train was in the same state of shock, only a few taking to the air to make the flight up towards the city proper. A number of others rushed the pony station master, demanding to know how they were supposed to get to the town. The answer was a laugh and a hoof pointed up the trail.
 
“It seems we have a long walk ahead of us,” Linotype said, looking up at the trail winding its way into a narrow canyon.
 
“I fear this is where we must part ways,” Edmund told the two reporters, fanning out his wings.
 
Linecast nodded her head as she stepped away from the griffon. “I’m sure we’ll run into you again once we reach town. Before that we need to arrange to send a message back on the return train.”
 
He grunted and gave them a nod before he joined the flock of griffons flying to the city. In retrospect, he feared he had told the pair far more than he should have, and he wanted to get away from them before they came up with even more questions that he had no wish to answer.
 
The train station quickly fell away under his talons. The train was still unloading, griffons flowing out of it like ponies out of a clown cart. He had never seen so many griffs together in one place, and he didn’t really understand why they were all there. Yes, the news was shocking, but was it a reason to run back to Griffonstone? Why would so many griffons want to be there right now? He just didn’t understand it.
 
Still pondering that, he flew up into a flock of a hundred or so griffons, all of them moving together to push against the cold winds that swept down from the mountains behind the city. It was the hardest flight Edmund had taken in years; his wings ached as he pushed against the thick air. At the same time, he found himself constantly shifting around in the flock as every griff fought for position, trying to have an easy flight.
 
Edmund hadn’t been sure what he had expected from the seat of power for The Griffon Kingdom. He knew that it was going to be bad, but as the flock crested the final ridge to bring Griffonstone into view, he realized he had underestimated just how bad it would really be.  
 
The very first thing he saw was the massive stone tree that hung over the town. He wasn’t sure if it had been carved out of stone, or was a gigantic tree that had become petrified millions of years before, but it was huge. It towered over the rest of the city, rising maybe a thousand feet into the air. There were small homes built onto every one of the twisted branches, many of them were in a state of serious disrepair if not completely burnt out.
 
Near the top, built in a wide fork of the tree, was what must have been the royal palace. It was a massive edifice, made up of a dozen towers of different sizes, the largest one rising up until it was above even the highest of branches. It looked to be built from marble, standing stark white against in pale blue sky. Clearly that was where he would find Princess Gilda, because where else would she be?
 
The closer he got to the city, the more he could see of the palace. The towers were lined with windows, but only a few of them were reflecting any light from the sun. The rest just seemed to be hollow, one tower had partly collapsed and there were soot marks rising up from many of the broken windows.
 
It was in terrible shape, and yet it seemed to be the nicest building in town. The rest of Griffonstone was built on a large plateau that abutted on the mountain range and was split down the middle by a massive canyon. Buildings stretched across it, though many of them had fallen into disrepair. The buildings at the edge of town must have been abandoned for years, maybe even decades; they were overgrown with moss and ivy and many had simply collapsed. Closer to the center of town the buildings were in somewhat better shape, even if nearly every one of them seemed damaged in some way. There was hardly an intact roof in sight. Yet, there seemed to be griffons living in each and every one of the buildings.
 
Anyplace to stay out of the weather had been turned into a nest.
 
A large semi-circular gate marked the entrance to the town proper. While it was in rough shape, it seemed to be still in one piece. Large wooden wings fanned out on each side, rising up around the arch. While faded, he could still see the paint on the wood, the dark red of the wings, the golden color of the arch itself and some blue highlights. It stood out against the bleakness of the rest of the city. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was in the Crest of the Royal Family. He had seen it all his life on the Royal Standard his father had hanging in his study.
 
Breaking away from the flock, Edmund allowed himself to glide towards the ground and came to a landing in front of the arch. He craned his head back to look at it. It felt strange to be standing there, like he was someplace eerily familiar. That was impossible, of course; he had never been there in his life, but he still felt it.
 
Up close, he could see the cracks covering the wood, and the rot running through it. The fact that it looked this good even without any griffon tending to it was a testament to the craftsmanship of the gate.
 
With a whoop, a young griff dived down and flew right through the gate, a second one following in his wake. A few others were flying over the top of it, all of them laughing and chatting with each other. They didn’t seem to care about the condition the city was in, they just seemed to be excited to be there.
 
Shaking his head, Edmund turned back so he could open his bags. Digging around, he pulled out a light-yellow vest, the edges trimmed with silver and gold wire. He slipped his wings through the open back and buttoned it closed over his keel, trying to smooth it out. The color looked terrible on him, and it was just a little bit too tight. He hated the damn thing with a passion and avoided unless he was doing something where he was officially representing his family. This was clearly something that qualified.
 
Pulling at the vest one more time, he walked through the gate and headed towards the center of town. It actually looked better from the ground where the damage was far less visible. Even so, it seemed that for every three buildings that were standing, another one had been reduced to a pile of rubble. A few griffons were trying to repair some of the smaller homes, but it felt like they were trying to use a thimble to drain a lake.
 
Edmund was halfway to the center of town when he spotted the first flag. It was hanging from the edge of a broken window, jutting out over the street. It was clearly claw made, with three dark blue gems on a tan background. The gems had been roughly cut from some other material, and were held in place by thick stitches. It was crude, but it was holding together.
 
Three blocks later he came upon the second flag. This one had once been the flag of the Griffon Kingdom, the material tattered and threadbare around the corners. It had the familiar fanning wings—in red, just like the gate—but the crown at the center had been sloppily covered with the silhouette of a griffon head. A third flag was on a house across the street, this one made up of a white, tan and purple strip laid out horizontally. Claw made, just like all the others.
 
Finally, he made it to a square at the center of town, a square which was flooded with griffons. He had thought the train had been filled to the breaking point, but it was nothing compared to this. There was hardly any space to move between them, thousands all pressed together. They were perched on a dead tree near the center of the square and around many of the damaged and broken buildings that surrounded it.
 
A general murmur of conversation filled the crowd, but the majority of attention was focused on a squat shop at the side of the square. It looked in better shape than all the others, though with the broken windows that every building had. The roof was clear of griffons as well, leaving it strangely empty compared to the rest of the area.
 
Somegriff must have been inside since smoke was curling up from a chimney in the back.
 
“What’s going on over there?” he asked one of the closer griffons.
 
The large tom snapped his head around to glare at Edmund. “Fuck you,” he said with a grunt. Then, with a huff, he started to walk away, pushing through the crowd that didn’t want to part for him.
 
Edmund watched the griffon go; clearly all the newcomers to town were not very welcome. He turned to ask another griffon, only to discover that they had all moved away from him, giving him almost a full wing of empty space around himself.
 
“Great,” he said with a sigh. “This is going to be a real pain in my flank.”
 
“What, you expected anything in Griffonstone to be easy?” someone asked from behind him.
 
He turned around to face the source of the voice. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was a griffon, but he was shocked by his appearance. He was bright blue, with a tan belly and yellow highlights to his crest. His first thought was that it wasn’t actually a griffon, but a pony pretending to be one, but he quickly pushed that thought away. That was a spell only the princesses could do, and they wouldn’t do it for a random pony. This clearly was a griffon, even if he didn’t look like one.
 
The griffon rolled his eyes. “Get a good enough look yet? Want me to spin around so you can see my ass as well?”
 
Edmund shook his head, “No, no. Sorry. I’ve only ever seen ponies with such vibrant…” a glare from the other griffon made him rethink what he was saying “You’re very unique.”
 
That made him snort. “Yeah, well, unique is worth about as much as nobles around here,” the griffon replied, shooting a nasty look back at the crowd.
 
“So, what’s going on over there? Why is everygriff so interested in it?” he asked, motioning with a talon towards the building in question.
 
The young griff rolled his eyes. “Eh, that’s where Gilda is held up. They are all waiting for her to come out and make a proclamation or something. Frankly, it’s just embarrassing to watch. She’s not going to tell them anything until the pony princesses show up tomorrow.”
 
Edmund narrowed his eyes; this was something he hadn’t heard about yet. “The princesses are coming here?”
 
The young tom shrugged. “That’s what their letter said, I ignored most of it as it was boring.”
 
“I see,” he replied, not really seeing it at all. He supposed there was some logic to Princess Celestia and Luna coming to oversee the takeover of Griffonstone. It would make his job harder; he could hardly learn more about Gilda if she had the other princesses around her. It wasn’t like he could just go up and say hello to her. He needed a way to get closer to her so he could find out what his father wanted to know… whatever that was. He still wasn’t really clear on exactly what his father wanted him to do other than find out who Gilda was.
 
In truth, he hadn’t planned any further than getting to Griffonstone, and had no idea how to proceed now that he was here. He hadn’t even had anything to eat since leaving Baltimare, and he was starting to get hungry. “Is there any place to eat around here?”
 
“If you can take it, you can eat it,” the blue griffon said with a shrug of his wings.
 
“Ah,” he replied with a sigh, glancing around the damaged buildings. Edmund doubted there was a hotel either, and he was going to need a place to stay. “Well, do you at least know anygriff willing to rent a room for a few days?”
 
A smile pulled over the colorful griffon’s beak. “You got the bits, I can get you a place to lay your head. Though you need to get rid of the damn jacket, makes you look like a noble.”
 
Edmund looked down at the vest, then quickly glanced around the rest of the crowd. Only a few griffons were wearing clothing, and it wasn’t very formal looking. Slowly he started to undo the buttons as he followed his new friend through the square.
 



 
The drone was perched on the edge of one of the many broken roofs, looking down over the crowd of griffons in the square below. They were pressed in almost shoulder to shoulder, yet they were not fighting each other. They were just waiting. The anticipation was hanging so heavily in the air that he was sure every creature could taste it.
 
There were many other emotions mixed in as well, allowing him to eat his fill without any fear of discovery. It was just empty calories. They filled his belly for the moment but wouldn’t hold him over in the long run. Not like love or affection; those could feed a ‘ling for days.
 
He had no idea why the crowd was there, or what they were all waiting for. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the city; his griffon disguise was poor and wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny, but he could taste the emotions leagues away. It was a feeling that was growing with every griffon that arrived in town.
 
Something was coming, something that was beyond his understanding. Even so, he knew what he had to do. Fanning out his wings, he leapt in the air; the buzz of insect wings followed in his wake, but the griffons below were too distracted to notice it. Banking to the south, he headed back to the hive.
 
The Queen would know what to do. The Queen always knew.
> The New Five
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edmund had been happy to find a place to lie down for a few minutes to recover from the long and uncomfortable train ride, but a short nap had turned into his sleeping nearly until midnight. He hadn’t cared that the bed was too small or that the sheets were threadbare and did nothing to keep him warm. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He felt significantly better when he woke up, no matter how late it was. He was surprised to find a lamp burning in the hallway outside of the small room he had rented. Peeking his head out, he saw movement in the kitchen of the little house he was in.

“About time you got up,” Gallus said, leaning out of the kitchen. “Come on, there’s still some food left if you want something to eat.”

Eating sounded like a very good idea. The hallway, like the rest of the house, was rather small and narrow, forcing him to keep his wings tight against his side to not hit the walls. At least it seemed to be in better shape than nearly every other place he had seen so far.

The kitchen was easily the largest room of the house, with a large cast iron stove against a stone wall. There was a large pot sitting on top of it, steam rising from the half-sealed lid, while a fire smoldered in the lower half. A number of oil lamps had been lit around the room providing more than enough light to see by. Gallus was sitting on a stool at an old stump that had been converted into a large table. He was eating something out of a bowl.

“Thank you for the bed,” Edmund said, walking up to the stove and opening the lid on the pot. Inside was a watery looking stew that seemed to be more rice than anything else, but it was food. He picked up a bowl from next to the stove, dished up some of the stew and then sat down on one of the stools at the table.

“You paid for it, would be rude not to let you use it,” he replied with a shrug of his wings.

“I still appreciate it,” Edmund said, taking a spoonful of the stew. It tasted as thin as it looked, but there was a hint of meat somewhere in it, plus some old onions and carrots mixed in. It was hardly great food, but at the moment he didn’t care; it quieted the ache in his belly. He quickly finished the whole bowl, then pushed it away.

“So, you want to talk to Gilda?” Gallus asked, leaning forward with his talon tapping at the table. “I think I can arrange that for you.”

Edmund beamed. “You can? That would be fantastic!”

The colorful griffon blinked a bit, his head cocked slightly to the side. “It’s not going to be for free.”

“I’ve got the bits,” he replied with a shrug. If there was any benefit from being who he was, it was the easy access to bits. He didn’t have a fortune with him, but it was enough to grease a few claws.

“Good,” he replied with a slight smirk.

Edmund smiled in return. “How are you going to arrange for that? It’s not like you can just walk up to the palace and ask to see her, right?”

Gallus rolled his eyes. “Nah, she’s kinda like my older sister.”

Edmund’s beak fell open as he stared at the younger griffon. “You’re kidding.”

He snorted, “Wait here,” he said, then got up and walked out of the kitchen. A few moments later he came back, holding a framed picture in his talons, which he set carefully on the table.

Hooking it with his own talon, he pulled the picture over. It was a black and white shot, slightly washed out and tinted brown, but it showed Gallus, an older hen who was looking annoyed and a much older griffon wearing a fez. There was another hen hovering in the air, beak pulled wide into a smile and tail lashing fast enough that it was almost a blur in the image.

“This was before Grizzle showed up, but that’s Gilda, right between me and Grandpa Gruff,” Gallus said.

Edmund just looked at the picture, slowly shaking his head. What were the chances that out of all the griffons in Griffonstone, and with how many more were flooding in, he would befriend the one griffon who could actually help him cut through all the red tape and let him get straight to the new princess? Something must have been looking out for him… he wasn’t sure if that something was Celestia, Discord or even Zacherle.  Whatever deity had decided to meddle with his life, he wasn’t going to question it too hard for fear of angering them.

“Well… very well then. Do you think you could take me to see her in the morning?”

He shook his head. “She’s got the pony princesses showing up in the morning, and there’s this train of supplies coming in she wants us to help get passed around. The day after that is the official turnover ceremony… thing. I probably could get you into the bakery after that.”

It wasn’t as soon as he would have liked, but still better than he could have possibly done on his own. “I think that will work just fine. Is there anything I can do to help until then?”

“Just stay out of everygriff's way, and try not to look so stuck up. You need to take a bath as well. You stink of ponies.”

Fanning his wing out, he gave the feathers a sniff, wincing at the smell. He was pretty sure he smelled like all the griffons in the train, not ponies, but he wasn’t going to split primaries about it. “Point taken,” he said.





Gilda paced around the center of her shop, wings fluttering with each step and sending small feathers flying all around the room. Her head was spinning as fast as her tail was lashing, calm having fled hours before sunrise. There was one more day, one day until everything stopped being words on paper. There would be no more parties, no more reassurances, just the cold hard reality of her new life.

Just one more day, and she would officially be Princess Gilda of the new Griffon Kingdom, the first ruler in over eighty years. Not that anyone would ever know that from looking at her; she wasn’t even wearing her crown. As far as anygriff could see, she was just another stressed out hen.

“How do I even act like a princess?” she grumbled to herself as she made laps around the single large table in the center of the shop. She had been wrestling with it for weeks, but she still didn’t have an answer. For the moment all she could do was bludgeon her way through, forcing past anything that was stupid enough to get in her way.

And right now, that felt like everything.

“Not a clue,” Greta replied as she pushed a chair over to the table. She was wearing her silk scarf with the halfmoon broach, and had touches of makeup to enhance the natural green highlights of her feathers. Every one of her primaries were perfectly preened and her talons had all been trimmed, though in deference to their soon to arrive guests the tips had been blunted.

“Thanks,” she replied with a slight roll of her eyes.

Grabbing a rag, Greta walked over to Gilda. “Bet princess wear less flour,” she said, using the rag to wipe off the other griff’s face and beak.

Gilda snorted and pulled back, shaking her head. “Are you finished?”

Reaching up, she ran the rag over the feathers of Gilda’s crest. “You don’t want the others thinking you’re just a baker.”

“I am a baker,” she growled.

Greta just smiled and shook her head, turning around and heading back into the kitchen, passing Skychart as he came in with a tray of scones held in his wings. “You can be a baker and a princess,” he said as he slid the tray onto the counter. He had brushed his mane and fur, as well as preening his feathers—though a few were already out of place.

“You’re a pony. Tell me, how am I supposed to act like a princess?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, act aloof and look pretty? I never really thought about it before. The closest a pony like me could ever hope to get to them was when they were touring the weather factory.”

Then without warning there was a knock on the door.

Gilda let out an undignified squawk as she spun to face the door, the feathers on her neck fluffing out. “It’s not even noon yet, right?”

“Noon was an hour ago,” Greta replied as she pushed her way out of the kitchen, a platter of tea held in one claw as she walked carefully towards the table.

“Buck,” she whispered under her breath, her heart trying to claw its way out of her throat. A thousand things were going through her mind: how she wasn’t ready for any of this, that maybe she should have repaired the broken window instead of just covering it with boards, or maybe removed the curtains that cover the rest of them. Had she made enough scones and pastries for everyone? And should she be opening the door herself or have one of her friends do it?

With a long breath, she forced herself to calm down. Whatever was going to happen, she wasn’t going to show any weakness, she couldn’t. With a flash of her tail, she swept her crown of the table and caught it with a talon, placing it on her head as she walked to the door.

With a flick of her claw, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Standing on the other side were all four of the princesses, who were all talking softly with each other. “Hello,” she said, not quite sure how to address the quartet. What was the proper term for a herd of princesses? “Um… please, come in?” she said, stepping out of the doorway.

Princess Celestia lead the procession, stepping into the shop with a warm smile on her face. She was followed by princess Luna, who held a neutral expression as she looked Gilda over before giving her a slight nod. After that was Twilight Sparkle, with Princess Cadence bringing up the rear. Gilda had never seen the Princess of Love before, and she was surprised at just how pink she really was.

Once they were all inside, she closed the door and turned to face the four of them. “How should I address all of you?”

“We are all equals here, so there is no need to use titles,” Celestia said, walking over to the table and sitting down at one of the five mismatched chairs. She was wearing her saddlebags again, in fact all of the princesses were.

Suddenly Twilight Sparkle was hugging her, which caused her to fan her wings out in surprise. “You look wonderful,” the younger mare said as she pulled away.

All Gilda could do was blush and blink in surprise as the mare walked to the table. She had only met Twilight once before, back at the disaster of a party, and that was when she was still a unicorn. It felt odd to be so familiar with someone who was little more than a stranger to her. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out.

The rest of them all filtered to the table, taking their seats. As Gilda sat down, between Cadence and Luna and facing Celestia, she found herself looking at the four mares, finding it almost impossible to meet their eyes. They were the most powerful ponies in the world, and here they were, sitting in her shop, all to see her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she finally said, trying to sound like she knew what she was doing, but it felt fake to her. She wanted to say something more, something important, but she found she had no idea what it would be.

Greta and Skychart quickly flocked around the table, pouring tea for all the ponies and putting small plates with scones and pastries in front of each of them. They moved quickly then slipped away once they were done, moving to stand behind the counter.

Celestia just smiled and lifted up the tea cup to her lips, taking a sip of it. “This is a historic moment. The first summit of all five princesses of Equestria.”

Gilda felt the blood drain from her face. Celestia was right, she was now one of the rulers of Equestria. Ponies would look up to her like they would to any of the other princesses, even if she was a griffon. Some of the griffons were already treating her like that, and she hated it. That was still a day before it all became official, she could always throw herself at the mare’s hooves and beg to be let out of the insanity. She didn’t have to do this, she didn’t have to be this!

She placed her head in her claws; this was just too much for her to take in.

“Gilda, are you okay?” Cadence asked from her seat to the right of her.

“No, I’m not okay. I’m not… I’m not cut out for this,” she mumbled through her claws before lifting her head to look at them. “I’m not a princess. I’m not anygriff. I’m just me! I have no idea how to lead anyone, how to make others listen to me or respect me. I don’t know how to fix anything, but everyone is expecting me to.”

She scrunched up her beak for a moment, then slumped into her chair as her strength fled. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice trembling. The words themselves almost more than she could bare. “Everygriff is depending on me to help them, and it terrifies me. I don’t know how I could possibly do any of it, how any creature could possibly do it. It so big, and I don’t even know where to start. What if I just make everything worse, what will happen to us then?”

Celestia reached out across the table with her hoof. “Gilda, it’s okay to be scared, but you can’t let it consume you. There is a great deal of things that need to be done, but you don’t have to do them alone. You have the four of us to turn to whenever you need help, and you have your friends who are standing by your side.”

“As for not being a princess, that is not what I see. In the weeks since I was last here, the town square has been repaired and cleaned up, and it seems that the dead tree is soon to be replanted. There have been repairs on almost every building in sight, and I spotted a number of flags hanging around the town. Some of which have been recently made.”

“I didn’t even ask for the flags, they just started appearing on their own,” Gilda said, blushing a little though her feathers. She had hoped they wouldn’t see those, but there seemed to be more every day.

“That is because they have accepted you as their new leader,” Luna explained. “Just by wearing the crown you have given your griffons a sense of hope and purpose. For themselves, for the kingdom, and for the future.”

Gilda’s wings sagged under the weight of the words. “I just don’t know how to be a princess,” she said.

This time it was Twilight who spoke. “I know how you feel Gilda, I still don’t know how to be a princess. The best I can offer is that you just need to be yourself.”

“But ‘myself’ is a coarse and crude bitch!” she protested.

Twilight’s eyes went wide at that while Luna and Celestia shared a small smile. Cadence just shook her head at the younger mare’s reaction.

“Your people understand that,” Luna said. “Being a princess does not mean you have to be nice, or stand around and look pretty, to launch ships and attended fashionable events. You are a princess to help your people rebuild their homes and lands. You are a princess to be there to make the hard choices that have to be made, to fight the battles that must be fought, to destroy any obstacle in their way, and to make sure the job gets done. And yes, there will be galas and events that you will have to attend, and you will have to look pretty and formal far more often than you would desire, but that is not why you are a princess. Helping your people is.”

Cadence nodded at that. “It’s not easy being the one that everypony looks up to, to be the one to show them the way forward. I was taught all about being a princess from the moment I got my horn until I took the throne of the Empire. Ten years of learning everything that I needed to know. Yet for the first few months as a ruler I felt like I knew nothing! You have one advantage that I didn’t have, your griffons already know you. My ponies had been unstuck in time for a millennium, and before that they were crushed under the iron hoof of a mad tyrant. They had no idea who I was or why I was now ruling them. It was weeks before they would even look me in the eye, let alone tell me what they really thought about what I was trying to do. Even now, some of them hesitate to tell me what they really think, out of fear of how my predecessor acted.”

While it all sounded good to her ears, Gilda found that it didn’t do anything to help her. It didn’t actually answer any of the questions going through her mind. The only thing she got from that was to just keep trying to be herself… yet herself as a princess. It seemed like a sick joke, but they all seemed so confident that it was the best advice. Maybe it was, they would know better than her.

She looked down at her talons as they rested on the surface of the table, the points not quite digging into the woods, no matter how much she wanted to rip into it. The title felt weird to her, the role she found herself in was even stranger, yet most of the griffons seemed happy with her so far.

Without a word, she slid off her chair and walked over to the windows, pulling back the edge of the black sheet to peak out onto the square. It was filled with griffons, with a few ponies mingled in. Some were talking with each other, others were flying around, and many of them were just sleeping where there was room to do so. Yet almost all the attention on was on her bakery, all of them waiting for what would happen next, what she would do next.

No, they weren’t just griffons anymore, they were her griffons. She was responsible for them now. When she had gone to school in Equestria, she had gotten to see just what sort of life the ponies had. How much better they had it than griffons did. It was now on her shoulders to try and bring some of that back to her griffons.

“Where do I even start?” she asked herself, half whispering the words. She had to make things better for all of them, she had to try. She couldn’t be like the old rulers, who only cared about themselves and ran away the moment there was trouble.

In the distance she could see the edge of the old palace, the imposing building hanging over the city like a distant cloud. It had been built to be visible by every griffon in the city, yet also to keep as many griffons out as possible. There was only one narrow path leading up to the gate, and all the towers and buttresses were built to make it as hard as possible to land on. It wasn’t a place meant for normal griffons to go. Yes, the old king had ruled from there, his throne room in the top of the highest spire, towering above the griffons that made up the kingdom itself.

A castle in the sky, crumbling into ruin.

In a flash she made a decision, a silly and impulsive decision, but one that she knew, deep in her heart, was right. “I won’t live in the castle,” she said, some of the confidence coming back into her voice as she turned around to face the other princesses.

“Tear it down, or let it rot. I don’t care. This bakery is the first thing I ever made for myself, the first thing I could really call my own. It’s my home,” she slammed her talons onto the stone floor. “I am not going to let it go. I’m not going to leave it just to sit above every other griffon like the old kings,” she declared.

Celestia smiled at Gilda. “Very admirable. I have asked a few ponies I trust to look into reinforcing the old castle. I won’t have them do more. Maybe once the rest of the problems are solved you can turn it into a museum.”

“Or you could put the parliament up there, and tell them to fix it themselves,” Cadence added, which caused her and Luna to share a small laugh.

Gilda sat back down in her chair. She felt better now; somehow making that one decision—her first real decision as a princess—helped put her mind at ease. At least for the time being. Not that the bakery made for much of a throne room, but there was nowhere else to put it. The shop truly was her home, she lived in one of the two small bedrooms on the second floor, with Greta in the other.

Twilight was digging in her saddle bag, pulling out a thick book and starting to flip through the pages. “If you don’t want a castle, how about something like this,” she said, setting the book down and pushing it towards Gilda, holding it open with the edge of her hoof.

On the open page was a picture of terraced houses, a dozen narrow homes all connected together along the length of the street. It was the sort of thing that was common in the older pony cities. They were only three stories tall, and judging by the pattern of windows and doors the homes wouldn’t have been much bigger than her bakery. Strangely, a number of the doors looked flat, like they were only painted on. There was a small sign above the center most doorway, but it was unreadable in the image.

“So what?” she asked, pushing the book back.

“These houses have been converted into a large hotel, but kept the original façade. Instead of a castle, you could build something like this here in the square and have the bakery a part of it. It will provide you the space you need for the government offices, a throne room and a private home for yourself.”

She cocked her head to the side, looking at the picture again. It seemed like a strange idea, but there was something to it. It would mean that the palace was at the center of the town. Not high above them, not watching from the distance, but right in the town square where ever griffon could go.

“So instead of a castle in the sky, I would be a part of the city. I like that idea,” she said.

Luna nodded in agreement, but before she could say something in response, she was interrupted by the sound of yelling and squawking coming from outside of the bakery. It was the sound of two griffons fighting. Gilda used to hear it every night, but not for the last few weeks. Having it suddenly return came as a shock.

She was out of her chair in a moment, pulling the sheet off the intact window. Outside a pair of griffons were fighting near the center of the square. Feathers and fur flying as one of the griffons tried to leap into the air only to be yanked back down by the other.

Gilda stared at the fight for a few seconds, then shook her head and started to turn away, only to discover Luna was standing behind her.

“You should go and put a stop to it,” she said.

“Why?”

Luna motioned out the window. “Because they are your people, and they need you to lead them to a better way. To show them that such things are no longer necessary, or tolerated.”

Gilda let out a sigh, deflating slightly as her wings sank down against her back. “I hope you're right,” she said, then spun on her paws and rushed out the door.
> Problems for Solutions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the morning finally came, Edmund found himself on the edge of a whirlwind as Gallus and Gruff were busy getting ready to head down to the train station. The princesses would be arriving with a train full of supplies, and it was going to be their job to help distribute it, at least that’s what he thought they were going to do. He only had a few moments to speak with the teal griffon before they were out the door and in the air.

He was able to scrounge up a little bit of food for breakfast, and finally take a much-needed bath in the cramped water closet that was built onto the back of the house. He was surprised that there was running water (even if it was ice cold). Not even every noble in Canterlot had running water in their homes yet, so he had never expected it in a run-down city like Griffonstone. He made a note to ask Gallus about it when they returned.

Unfortunately, after the bath, there was nothing else to keep him occupied. He finally decided to go back into the center of town, though this time he left his vest and bags behind, taking only a small bag of bits hidden in the thick feathers of his crest.

He took to the air, circling over the house until he was sure he could find it again, then headed towards the town square, joining the growing crowd of griffons. This time he was able to settle down into the middle of the crowd, ignored by everygriff else. He wanted to try and get closer to Gilda’s bakery, but he couldn’t push his way through the wall of fur and feathers.

It was just after noon when the first ponies appeared; a group of royal guards, looking almost identical in their golden armor. He had seen them nearly every day of his life in Canterlot, but they looked out of place here, marching in time as they moved into the square, wagons being pulled behind them.

The griffons allowed them to pass through the crowd unmolested. They didn’t head towards Gilda’s bakery and instead went to one of the empty sides of the square where most of the buildings had crumbled to ruin. He wasn’t sure what they were doing there, but they quickly started unloading their wagons.

The princesses themselves followed a few minutes later, all four of them walking together as a group, the crowd splitting around them like water. Celestia and Luna chatted with each other as they walked, followed by Twilight Sparkle and Cadence. The youngest of the quartet kept looking around in the crowd, then back at the princesses, but didn’t say anything.

The griffons all stayed hushed as they walked through the square, then vanished into the bakery. As soon as the door was closed, the crowd erupted in hushed conversation, a low murmur filling the square.

Edmund just watched as all of this unfolded and eventually turned his attention to the dozen or so royal guards who were still diligently working on the edge of the square. They were assembling a pure white tent, and when the fabric was lifted into the air, it revealed Celestia’s cutie mark right above the entrance flap. It took a moment for him to realize that there were three more tents waiting to be unloaded, their colors matching the other princesses.

He couldn’t help but muse at how strange it was thinking of the princesses having to ‘rough it’ while on such an important visit. Then again, it hardly seemed like there was any place for them to stay if they weren’t going to make use of the old palace.

Edmund was still pondering that when a fight broke out only a couple dozen wings away. A pair of scruffy looking toms were yelling at the top of their lungs, only to have the smaller griffon leap onto the larger as they started to claw and screech. Quickly, the other griffs in the crowd backed away from the flailing limbs as feathers and fur flew into the air.

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. No fight like this would ever break out in Canterlot, not even among the griffons living there, and if it did, the guards would be there in a few moments to put a stop to it before anyone was hurt. He shot a glance at the royal guards, but they were making a point of ignoring the fight. They clearly had orders not to interfere in anything that might happen in the town.

There was a sound of a door crashing open in the distance, and moments later a hen dive-bombed down right into the middle of the fight. She landed with a claw on the neck of both males, pinning them to the ground. “What the buck do you think you are doing?!” she bellowed into their faces.

Edmund took a step back in shock, surprised at how forceful this griffoness was. She glared down at the pair, anger glowing behind her golden eyes. It took a few moments for him to notice the crown resting on top of her head, sitting slightly askew.

Slowly, he and all the griffons in the square started to bow to Princess Gilda.

After a few moments, she let go of the two griffs, backing away from them as her tail moved in a blur behind her. “Well?” she demanded. A second later she saw the reaction of the griffons around her. “Get up, all of you. This isn’t the time for this crap!”

Edmund rose back to his paws and glanced back at the bakery for a moment. The front door was now open and he could see both Princess Celestia and Luna standing just in front of it.

Finally, the smaller of the two griffons spoke. “He’s a thief!” he snapped,

The second griffon looked offended by the accusation. “I am not.”

“You stole the berries from my bushes. You’ve been stealing them for months,” the first griffon snapped back, the fur on his short tail starting to bristle.

Gilda rolled her eyes, and stepped between them before they could attack each other again. “Berries? You two are fighting over berries?”

“They’re mine,” the smaller griffon said.

With a sigh, the princess ran her talons over her face and beak, then shot a glance back at the pony princesses like she was hoping that they would help. After a few moments she steeled herself, rising to her full height as she looked at the two griffs. “Show me,” she ordered.

The two griffons looked at each other, then back at her before nodding, the larger of the two leading the way through the square, Gilda following just behind them. It seemed that the rest of the griffons in the square were trying to follow right after them, Edmund included. He wanted to see what the princess was going to do; he just had to stay within a few wings of her.

Edmund couldn’t help but notice that the accused thief had dark red stains on his beak and talons.

Without a word, the procession left the square and made its way into the city, the narrowing streets making it harder for most of the griffons to follow along, many of them taking to the air instead. The street wound and twisted around the old buildings, until finally the feuding griffons turned down a small side road that was lined with tiny houses. They were all built out of stone, but some were in better shape than others.

The two griffons stopped in the middle of the street, in front of a pair of houses. There was a line of berry bushes growing against an old fence that separated the two properties, a stone house on each side of the fence. The one on the side with the berries was looking more the worse for wear; the rotted wooden roof stood in stark contrast to the well-tended thatch roof of the other house.

“There, these are my berries, and he’s stealing them,” the smaller griffon said, motioning towards the bushes.

Gilda’s head twisted as she turned one eye to look intently at the bushes, then back at the two toms. “Why are you taking the berries?” she finally asked the thief.

“Because I always have. This whole fence used to be covered in them, but this cold egg cut them all away.”

The first griffon snorted and reached out to grab the bush, pulling a limb of it towards the three of them. “I cut them away because they were too thick. They were half dead, and there was hardly any fruit. This year they’ve produced twice as much as before, half of which he stole!”

“I did not—” the larger griffon started to say, only to be silenced by a glare from the princess.

Gilda looked between the two toms, then let out a sigh. “Fine,” she stated, reaching up to adjust her crown, making sure it was sitting properly in place.

Edmund couldn’t help but smile, he knew what was going to happen next. She would make the thief apologize for what he had done, find a way for them to share the berries, then they would hug and be friends again. That was how this sort of thing was always resolved back home.

The princess walked between the two of them, her tail lashing in her wake as she turned to face the larger griffon. “They are his berries, on his land. Just because they used to grow over the fence doesn’t mean you’re entitled to any of them now. You stole his food, there is no question about that, and he’s justified in wanting to take a piece of your hide for it.”

The thief blanched a bit, wilting under the glare.

“We don’t have any guards around, so I’m going to have to come up with some way to punish you,” she said, jabbing a talon in his direction.

Letting out a small yelp, the thief dropped flat to the ground, his wings shuddering over his back as he covered the top of his head with his talons. Edmund found himself taking a step back; he had no idea what was going to happen now.

Gilda looked away from the thief, turning her attention back to the houses, the one with the thatched roof. “Is that your home?” she asked.

“Yes,” the thief said, still holding himself against the ground.

She nodded, turning back to face him. “Did you repair the roof yourself, or did you get some other griff to do it for you?”

“I did it,” he replied.

The princess smiled a bit, though it wasn’t the sort of smile any griff wanted to see. “Then in order to repay for what you have done, you are going to repair your neighbor’s roof with the same care that you did for your own home. As for your punishment, I think some community service is in order. So, once you are finished here, you will have to do ten more roofs, and you are not allowed to ask for bits or anything in trade. You will show me each one, and if I’m satisfied with all of them, then you will have finished your punishment.”

The griffon lifted his head from the ground as she spoke. “Yes, princess Gilda.”

One of her talons flashed out to press against his now exposed neck. “If you don’t, I will find you and pluck every single one of your primaries.”

The thief whimpered at that, his tail pressing tightly to his flank.

Gilda pulled her talons away. “And what is your name?”

“Graham.”

“Well then, Graham, I will be expecting you at my bakery as soon as you’re done with your neighbor’s roof,” she said, then hunched down, his wings starting to fan out, but she paused to look back at the smaller griffon. “And who are you?”

“Grissom, ma’am,” he replied.

Gilda nodded, glanced back at the berry bushes, then down the length of the narrow street. “You know, there are a lot of bushes around here that need to be trimmed. A smart griffon could make some decent bits doing that, or maybe even trade for more repair work.”

That took the tom back a bit, like he had never considered the as a possibility before. “Huh,” he finally said.

“Do it,” Gilda snapped, then launched herself into the air, her wings sweeping down and lifting her above the crowd.

Edmund followed her up into the sky as she banked back towards the square. “So, that’s Princess Gilda,” he mused to himself, not quite sure what to make of her. One thing was clear, she left quite an impression.





Greycrest was woken by the sound of somepony knocking on his door. He lifted his head from his desk, sleep still heavy in his eyes as he glanced out the window. The sun was high over Canterlot, at least noon, though it was hard to tell from his office.

Pushing away from his desk, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and walked towards the front door. He reached it just as his butler was closing it.

“Who was that?” he asked, trying to cover a yawn with his talons.

The zebra turned back to look at Greycrest. “A page from the Royal Court, he brought a message for you,” he stated, holding a scroll balanced on the edge of his hoof.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the scroll and breaking the seal with the tip of his talon. He had spent the whole of the day before and most of the night writing an injunction against the damnable treaty, not even sleeping until it was safely sent off to the Royal Court sometime in the middle of the night. To receive a response so soon meant that the High Magistrates were treating this issue with the appropriate level of urgency, but told him nothing about what they may have said. As the treaty would go into effect at noon the next day, there was no time to waste.

He started reading the scroll, his heart soaring when he saw that they had accepted his injunction, and would be reviewing it in an emergency session of the Royal Count. That only lasted a moment before it dropped back to the floor, the soonest possible they could have such a session was in three days. An injunction against The Crown would require all six of the High Magistrates to rule upon it, and two of them were currently on an official visit to Yakyakistan. It would take at least a day to get a message that far north, and another for them to return to the Crystal Empire.

By the time they could even consider the injunction, it would be days too late.

“How, how could that stupid mare have arranged it so the courts would be so useless?!” he yelled out, crushing the scroll in his talons. He was aware of the visit to Yakyakistan, it had been arranged months before. While the princess was many things, she wasn’t half as clever as many ponies thought. He doubted she had arranged for the visit in order to support her treaty, it was more likely she had held it back until it would be safe to announce it.

Celestia wasn’t as cunning as a griffon; he would find a way to end this travesty one way or another.

Greycrest turned back towards his office, but hardly got two steps before someone else was knocking on his door. It wasn’t the heavy sound of a hoof, so it probably wasn’t a pony.

Since he was right there, he turned to the door, grabbed tightly onto the ring so he could twist it and yanked the door open. He snapped his beak, ready to tell whomever it was to go away unless they could help him. What he had expected was one of the other griffon nobles, but he was surprised to find three of them on his doorstep, as well as five ponies.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

The lead griffon, a young tom by the name of George, spoke up. “I saw the injunction you had delivered to the Royal Court. It was very persuasive, but without all of the Magistrates—”

“Yes, it’s useless, I know,” he snapped back.

“Not so much as you might think,” Jet Set said, the stallion stepping forward to the front of the group. “Celestia has quite overstepped her bounds by attempting to annex the Griffon Kingdom, steps must be taken in response.”

“I will not be allowed to claw her eyes out, even if they would heal,” Greycrest said with a snort.

Jet Set shook his head. “May we come in? There is much that we have to discuss.”

For a moment he considered just sending them away, it was hardly a group that could sway the Parliament. They were all members of the nobility, but the group was too small to wield any real power. Still, even a few allies would be better than none at all. “Very well, come in,” he said, opening the door wide for the group.

He watched them file in, somewhat surprised at the ponies that were in the group. There was no sign of Blueblood; he would have assumed the stuck-up prince would have been in the front of the line to end the treaty, but that wasn’t the case. The other pony that he was surprised at being absent was Upper Crust.

“Where is your wife?” he asked Jet Set as he closed the door. He motioned for them to move into the large conservatory just off the hallway, the high glass walls allowing the sun to fill the room.

Jet Set just shook his head, “She felt that this was an unwise course of action.”

Greycrest nodded as he took a seat on a wicker bench. “Yes, well I’m sure she will change her mind in due time,” he turned his attention back to the full group. “So, how do you propose we deal with this?”

“We can't stop the treaty from coming into effect,” Gregory said, “but we can use it to our advantage once it becomes law.”

He narrowed his eyes as he fluffed out his wings. “How could we possibly use the treaty to our advantage?”

“The method by which this Gilda was appointed King’s Regent is suspect at best,” one of the other griffons said, one that Greycrest didn’t know off claw. “Celestia attempted to invoke the laws of the old kingdom, but in a very circuitous way.  No member of the Council of Nobles participated in the vote, and there were no official records or counts. The validity of it is questionable at best.”

Greycrest nodded. “I made the very same objections.”

Jet Set smiled. “I’m sure you did, but I think you went about it the wrong way. The appointment of the King’s Regent was invalid, and I believe we can prove that. Because the vote was not valid, Gilda would not have the authority to sign the treaty. It will come too late to prevent the treaty from coming into effect, but it will remove her from the throne.”

He looked between the stallion and the other griffon. “And how will that aid us?”

“Section Seventeen of the treaty, it gives the crown to the highest-ranking authority of the previous government. If there is no King’s Regent, it would go to whomever the authority is,” the griffon explained, a smirk on his beak.

“And that would be?”

Jet Set smirked as well, leaning forward and pressing his hooves together. “Lord Greycrest, there is only one griffon that is still serving the government of the old Griffon Kingdom.”

He looked between them all, his mind jumping to the one impossible conclusion. “You don’t mean…”

Gregory made an exaggerated bow. “I think ‘King Greycrest’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
> Needed to Know
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gilda rose up over Griffonstone, only sparing a moment to glance back down at the crowd below her. The narrow street was packed with griffons, all of them watching her as she caught a thermal and banked towards the main square. She wanted to get away from them as fast as possible, to get back to her bakery and away from all the attention.
 
She had no idea if she had done the right thing. It seemed wrong to punish a griffon for taking food that he had always taken. It wasn’t his, but did that really matter? The rule of Griffonstone had always been that if you could take it, it was yours. Did the fact she was now a princess change that?
 
She wasn’t even sure if it was the right sort of punishment to give him, forcing him to do work—unpaid work—for others. It was about the most humiliating thing you could make a griffon do, but it was the only thing she could think of as punishment. What else could she have done? And it was making the town better, at least for a few griffs. Wasn’t that what she was supposed to be doing?
 
A quick glance down told her that she had overflown the square, so she tilted her wings to circle back around. There was a lot of activity going on below her, with ponies setting up tents and others pulling carts into the square. She wasn’t surprised to see that three of the princesses were standing outside of her shop; the only one missing was Luna.
 
With one last twist of her tail, Gilda descended, flaring to a soft landing right in front of the trio of mares. Without a word to them she walked back into her bakery. There was no sign of Luna inside, just Greta and Skychart, watching her as she returned to her seat and dropped down into it with a heavy thud. The princesses followed her a few moments later.
 
Gilda had never done anything like that before. Sure, she had been in her share of fights, pinned griffons and ponies to the ground and even broken up a few scuffles. Yet she had never tried to solve why the fight was happening in the first place. It was a stupid fight, but the kind that happened all the time in Griffonstone, more so in the fall as everygriff struggled to hoard food for the winter.
 
Her introspection was brought to a quick end as the door to the shop was flung open and Luna trotted in. “That was commendable!” she declared, her voice too loud for the space they were in, causing it to reverberate off the walls. “It was truly outstanding how you quickly grasped the nuance of the situation and found a solution that punished the perpetrator as well as provided aid to others. The fact that you did so in a way that would leave him in a position to start a profitable business, as well as encouraging the injured party to do the same, was a shining example of leadership.”
 
Gilda could only stare at Luna, her beak hanging open, as the mare sat down at the table, a wide grin on her muzzle.
 
“I had my doubts about my sister’s choice, but having seen you in action I do believe that she did indeed chose well,” Luna added, glancing at Celestia for a moment.
 
“I just did what seemed right at the time,” Gilda replied, looking down at her claws. “I didn’t consider either of them starting a business.”
 
Celestia chuckled softly, giving a sidelong glance to Twilight. “In most situations, leadership is doing what appears to be the correct course of action at that moment. It’s rare that you will have to mull over a decision, but when you do, it will be because it is critical.”
 
Gilda looked over the four ponies. “So, this is all just a big shell game?”
 
“It’s more like a game of chess,” Cadence replied. “You have to think about the big picture, to see how your choices will affect it, but you have to be quick to adapt to any opportunity that might present itself.”
 
The griffon hen blinked, then slowly shook her head. “I have no idea how to play chess.”
 
“I can teach you,” Twilight said with a smile. “It’s an interesting game with a lot of deep strategies. I’m pretty good at it myself, but I wouldn’t play against Celestia. She is a grand master of the game.”
 
The elder princess just smiled at that. “I have had a few centuries to practice.”
 
“And yet you have never won against Fluttershy,” Luna teased, gently jabbing her sister with the edge of her hoof.
 
Gilda just looked between Celestia and Luna, watching the two of them act like children. It seemed incredible that these two mares were among the most powerful creatures in the world, yet they hardly seemed to have the maturity to stock up for the winter.
 
Cadence cleared her throat, “Well, as interesting as that might be, we’re not here to discuss games. We are here to help you make some immediate decisions about the future of the Griffon Kingdom. That includes the overall structure of the government,” she spoke with the tone of a mother annoyed with her chicks.
 
“Please,” Gilda said, glad someone could take control of the group.
 
Twilight’s horn began to glow as a pair of thick books were lifted from her saddle bags. “There are a number of different forms of government that have been proven to function in the past. From the Canterlot System to Mazin’s more… pugilist style. Each one has their advantages and drawbacks, which must be carefully considered when making your decision.”
 
She set the books down on the table, then reached back into her bag to pull out a thick stack of notecards, a large smile on her face as she aligned them all together. “Now, starting with the Canterlot System—”
 
Thankfully, a knock on the door brought a temporary reprieve from the oncoming lecture. It caused Twilight to scrunch up her nose in annoyance as she set the cards down.
 
Greta quickly went to the door, pulling back the cover on the window to look outside. “It’s one of your guards,” she said. With a quick twist of her talon she pushed the door open, allowing the stallion to step inside the shop. He was wearing different armor then the other guards Gilda had seen, the most striking change being that it was silver and not gold.
 
The pony turned to Celestia and gave her a quick salute. “You Highnesses, the secure wagon has arrived. I have the guards moving it behind the building for the time being.”
 
“Thank you,” Celestia replied with a slight nod of her head. “Gilda, this is Captain Sidereal Equinox of the Equestrian Guard. I would like for you to work with him until we can arrange a more permanent security detail.”
 
Gilda narrowed her eyes, giving the stallion an intense look. He seemed like any other pony to her, with a blond mane and tan fur that was marred with white splotches. She wasn’t sure she wanted some pony providing ‘security’ for her. “Surely there must be a griffon in the royal guard,” she finally said.
 
“There are three, but all fairly low ranking. They do not have the skill or the security clearance for this task,” Celestia replied.
 
That didn’t make her feel any better.
 
The stallion used his magic to pull off his helmet, allowing his mane to fall along his neck. He gave another quick salute, but this time to Gilda. “A correction your Highness, I’m not part of the Royal Guard, but the Equestrian Guard. The royal guard serve at the behest of the princesses, protecting them and their homes, whereas we serve the country as a whole.”
 
Gilda didn’t see how that was really any different; in the end a guard was a guard, no matter what sort of armor they wore.
 
“For the moment, my main concern is with protecting the secure wagon,” he continued. “Anything else will be at your discretion.”
 
She wondered how true that would be if she told him to leave. The last thing she wanted was some unicorn hovering around and telling her how to do things the pony way.
 
Greta was quickly at his side. “We should speak later tonight. There are some griffons that aren’t pleased with what has happened and I would be more comfortable if there was a guard on duty.”
 
Gilda shot her a dirty look. In response, the green hued griffon snorted and shook her head. “Don’t forget, this is my home too.”
 
With a grimace, Gilda realized that with everything that had been going on, that fact had slipped her mind. If there was any griff who had the right to ask about security it was her housemate. “Fine, whatever,” she said, dismissing it with a wave of her talon. “Now what is this about a secure wagon?”
 
“It will be best if we show you,” Celestia said, rising from her seat. “Do you have a piece of jewelry, something with a large gem that you can keep on your person at all times?”
 
She shook her head. She had never really had jewelry before, other than a few talon rings. Though in the past weeks, several griffs had given her pieces of all sorts and sizes. Necklaces, broches, tail bands and rings. Many of them had been hidden away for decades, protected from thieves and family, it felt wrong to take them, yet it felt just as wrong to refuse them.
 
“Well, we can address that later,” the elder princess said, then motioned to Sidereal.
 
The stallion put his helmet back on, though not all his mane made it through, causing it to sit at an odd angle on his head. He turned and walked towards the back of the shop, the rest of them following. He pushed through the door into the kitchen and with a quick flick of his magic, he unlocked the back door and stepped out into the small area behind the shop.
 
It wasn’t much back there. It consisted of a small fenced in area covered with paving stones, a dead garden and the privy in the back. The wagon in question was sitting in the very middle of it. The wagon was enclosed, with every corner and seam held together with thick bolts and then covered in metal. There was a single door at the front, which had no handles or any way to look inside. A small set of stairs had been placed by the doors, so a pony could at least walk up to it.
 
Celestia strolled right up to the wagon as the glow of her magic started to focus on the large amethyst gem in the center of her golden chest piece. With a twist the gem lifted out of the setting and floated up to the door, touching it at the center. There was a small flash of magic between the gem and the door, followed by the sound of shifting metal. As she pulled the gem away, the door opened outwards.
 
“Look inside,” Celestia said as she stepped out of the way.
 
Gilda walked past the mare and grabbed the door, pulling it all the way open and revealing what seemed like a normal looking wagon. She climbed up the steps and in through the door, which was small enough that it scraped across her wings. The inside of the wagon was lined with small cubbies filled with boxes. Most of the boxes were the size of her fist, but others big enough to hold a cake. Each one had a small golden plaque with a number on them, which had a matching plaque on the cubby.
 
Picking one at random, she slid pulled it free; nearly dropped it as it was much heavier than she had been expecting. Cradling it up against her keel, she walked backwards out of the wagon so she could turn around. She gave a glance at the princesses, then to her friends, before she lifted the lid off the box.
 
It was filled to the brim with bits.
 
She stared down at the box, the bits shining in the sunlight. She had no idea how much money she was holding, other than it was more than she had ever seen in her life. It seemed unreal; this little box was worth more than most of Griffonstone… and there were many more of them in the wagon.
 
Gilda ran her tongue across her beak before slowly putting the lid back on the box as her eyes scanned the sky above them. There were no griffons around to spy on them, but that didn’t mean anything. “How much?”
 
“In the box, or the whole wagon?” Celestia replied with a smirk.
 
She pressed the lid down tightly onto the box, like it might explode in her claws. “Either?”
 
“Two hundred thousand bits,” the princess replied.
 
She hadn’t even realized she dropped the box until it floated past her in a light blue field, the guard moving it back into the wagon. All the work she had done to fix up the shop, to get the stoves, the counters, all the work outside… that had added up to only a few hundred bits. Now suddenly she had been given access to more money than she had ever conceived of.
 
Gilda turned to look at Greta and Skychart. “Do not tell anygriff about this, at all. If word about this gets out, the riot will burn the town.”
 
Skychart nodded while Greta made a zipping motion across her beak.
 
“The wagon is reinforced with both steel and magic,” the guard said, stepping out of the wagon and pulling the door closed. It shut with a thump, a hint of a glow shining through the gap around the door. “It would take an army to rip it open, or an alicorn.”
 
She just ignored him for the moment and instead turned to Celestia. “That gem is the only thing that can open the wagon?” She asked, poking the gem in question with the tip of her talon.
 
“My sister’s will open it, and Captain Sidereal has a gem as well,” Celestia replied. “Once you find a gem of your own to use, I will cast the key spell onto it.”
                                                           
Gilda looked back at the wagon, her head spinning at what was held inside. The ponies had promised a great number of things, food, aid, and bits. She knew that the train the princess had come on had brought food and medical aid for the griffons, but she had yet to see it for herself. Here was proof, real, tangible proof that Celestia was going to be as good as her word, that she really was going to try and help them build the griffon kingdom into something better than it had once been.
 
“Thank you,” she finally said, giving the princess a small smile. “This is going to help more than I can say.”
 
Celestia returned the smile, “I’m sure you’ll come up with something for tomorrow, once the treaty officially comes into effect,” she replied.
 
She rolled her eyes at that. What kind of speech did Celestia think she would give? She was a griffon, not a princess… well not that kind of princess. She had no idea what she was going to say at the ceremony tomorrow, and was just planning to take it by wing.
 
“And once that is done, we can start moving the troops across the border,” the princess added, almost as an afterthought.
 
That brought Gilda up short, her head snapping around to look at Celestia. “Troops? What the buck are you talking about? You’re not going to need troops to pass around the supplies, we can arrange that for ourselves.”
 
“It’s only a single brigade of the guard, and it’s not about the supplies. There are some issues that need to be dealt with, and only once the treaty is in effect can they be handled.”
 
Gilda just glared at the mare, eyes narrowing, her wings starting to fan out and tail trashing behind her as every worry, ever fear, she had about the princess’s motives suddenly started to crystalize inside of her. “How big is a brigade?” she asked.
 
“Fifteen hundred ponies,” the guard answered.
 
A low growl started to build deep in her chest, vibrating under her keel. Fifteen hundred armed ponies, marching into the Griffon Kingdom. She couldn’t believe it! She couldn’t believe just how stupid she had been to trust the ponies!
 
Luna stepped forward, placing herself between Gilda and Celestia. “I believe my sister may have neglected to tell you one of the driving factors that brought about our treaty.”
 
Gilda spat at her hooves. “Of course, you have a real reason. I can’t believe I fell for the dung you were spewing, about doing this out of the goodness of your heart, about wanting to help us. You never wanted to help us at all, it was just a convenient way to get what you wanted. You never cared about griffons!” her voice was starting to rise with each word, wings fanning out almost to her full span.
 
“There were—” Luna started to say, but was cut off as Celestia stepped to her side.
 
“Queen Chrysalis has created a new hive outside of Garnett Point. She and her changelings are a threat to everyone, griffons and ponies alike. She must be dealt with before she can bring harm to you or your griffons,” Celestia explained in that damn perfectly calm tone of hers, not a single sign of any sort of guilt for what she had done. She probably couldn’t feel anything of the sort.
 
“And you didn’t think to tell me this when this bullshit started?” Gilda snapped, “You didn’t think we deserved to know that there was a threat inside of our country, our homes? Did you even think that maybe, just maybe, we should fucking know?!”
 
That didn’t seem to faze Celestia at all. “There were more pressing concerns at the time,” she replied.
 
Gilda had to hold herself back from raking her claws over the mare’s face. She had no idea what could have been more pressing than protecting her griffons, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “I see,” she growled out, her tail tuft lashing almost too fast to see as her talons dug into the ground. “Is there anything else you conveniently forgot to tell me about?”
 
“I don’t believe so,” she answered, looking as smug as ever. “Well, if there are no further issues, we still have much that we need to discuss.”
 
Gilda just continued to glare at Celestia even as she turned away, like somehow the conversation was over just because she wanted it to be. She should have been told; then she could have tried to do something instead of just sitting around worrying about running a country. Now she was going to have to deal with over a thousand armed ponies marching their way through the kingdom to Garnett Point. They would have to go almost the whole length of the country, through Griffonstone and Grover’s Gap to get there.
 
How would that look to the everyday griffon? Being told that ponies were going to help only to see a bucking army? They would think it was an invasion… and they wouldn’t be that far off. Having Celestia send her army into the Kingdom was an insult to them and to what little pride they had, and she wasn’t going to idly sit by and let it happen.
 
Gathering herself, she thrust out her chest and fanned her wings out. “You are not going to bring your army into the Griffon Kingdom,” she declared.
 
Celestia’s mask seemed to crack for an instant, showing a flash of anger. “Once it becomes part of Equestria, you will find that I can.”
 
A smirk crossed over Gilda’s beak and she realized that the princess was wrong. “No, no you can’t. Section twenty-six, point seven. Outside of a state of a national emergency, the Griffon Kingdom is responsible for the defense of its own borders, unless military aid from Equestria is explicitly requested. I have not, and will not, request that. If your army sets one hoof in my country, I will personally take it out of your hide.”
 
That brought the older princess up short, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise.
 
“Yes, I finally read the damn treaty!” Gilda snapped. “I’ve read it so often I’ve nearly memorized it. That’s how I know I’m right, aren’t I?” she asked, the question being directed at Princess Cadence.
 
All the other princesses had been standing by, watching all this unfold, various looks of horror and disappointment on their faces. Cadence jumped at the question, her wings snapping for a moment before being pulled tight against her back. “Yes, the Crystal Empire has the same clause in our treaty.”
 
Celestia rolled her eyes. “You don’t even have one guard, let alone an army.”
 
“Not yet we don’t,” she replied, then glanced back at Greta and Skychart, they were both watching in silence. Neither one of them were the sort of creature that could put together an army, that left her with only one choice. She turned her attention to Sidereal Equinox. “So, you’re supposed to be working with me, well I want you to put together the start of my own guard, made up of griffons.”
 
The captain took a step back. “I don’t think that—”
 
“Captain, if that is what she wishes, then I will release you from any other obligations,” Celestia said, her smirk starting to return. “Once Gilda realizes how serious this situation is, you can coordinate my guard.”
 
“Yes, Princess Celestia,” he said, giving her a salute. Though from the tone of his voice, he didn’t seem happy with the order.
 
Gilda snorted. “You know what, I think we’re done for the day,” she said, then turned and stalked back into her shop, grabbing the handle of the door with her tail and slamming it closed in her wake. She knew it was a pointless gesture—her friends were still outside and she was going to have to talk with the guard at length about what he knew about these changelings—but for now she was just done with all of it.
> Calcification
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skychart watched—mouth slightly agape—as Gilda stormed back into the shop, slamming the door in her wake with enough force to make the empty torch sconces rattle against the wall. Greta and the guard pony followed a few moments after her, their exit much more restrained. It left Skychart standing by himself only a few body lengths away from the quartet of princesses.
 
He knew he shouldn’t be there, that he should be going back inside with Gilda and his coworkers, but it felt like his hooves were stuck fast to the ground. All he could do was watch in horror as Luna gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.
 
“That… was not how I expected that conversation to go,” Princess Celestia said, her eyes locked on the closed door.
 
“And what, pray tell, did you expect her to do?” Luna snapped as she walked over to Celestia, her wings slightly fanned out with her primaries spread apart to make herself look larger. “Just bow her head and say ‘yes, Princess’?”
 
Celestia was conspicuous by her silence.
 
“You never told me that bitch was involved,” Cadence said, a slight quaver to her voice as she took a step closer to Celestia. Her ears were pinned down against the side of her head and small sparks of magic danced along the length of her horn.
 
“It wasn’t relevant,” Celestia curtly replied, her horn flashing as she spoke, which was reflected for a moment in the air above them.
 
Cadance responded by sputtering out a few half-formed words, the sparks on her horn turning into a bright blue shine. After a moment she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, pressing a foreleg to her chest as she let it back out.
 
Luna snorted and shook her head, her mane dancing over her neck. “You should have informed Gilda about the changeling queen the moment you broached the treaty with her. It was the primary reason that we took this course of action, and one of the core issues that needed to be addressed. It shouldn’t have been kept from her.”
 
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Twilight Sparkle asked, her own wings constantly flexing in agitation.
 
Princess Celestia just shook her head, then turned away from the other princesses. “I feared what she would do when she learned about it. Sending a gaggle of griffons to try and capture Queen Chrysalis would not help the situation in the least.”
 
“I grant you that she might have done such a thing,” Luna replied as she walked around her sister, until they were nearly nose to nose. “Though it seems that Princess Gilda is quite capable of keeping her wits about her. If you had told her in the correct way, she would not have flown off, talons out, to try and attack the hive.”
 
She snorted in reply, her nose scrunching up and her lip pulling back for a moment to show off her teeth. “While I did hold back information, it was only for her own safety. I would never keep a secret that could cause somepony harm.”
 
The three princesses all shared a knowing look, the expression on their faces ranging from narrow frowns to outright anger.
 
Twilight Sparkle was the first of them to speak, “You never told anypony that Nightmare Moon was real, even the day before she was going to return.”
 
Luna’s frown grew deeper at that, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Twilight Sparkle and Celestia. “And what of Discord? You never told anypony that the statue you kept in the public area of the royal gardens was the creature himself.”
 
“And you knew about Changelings for centuries before they ruined my wedding, and you didn’t so much as warn a single guard about what they were or what they could do!” Cadence snapped, clearly not wanting to be left out while throwing blame. “And the first time you ever mentioned the Crystal Empire or Sombra was while you were herding Shining and myself onto a train to go and save it.”
 
Skychart let out a gasp, only to cover his muzzle with his wings. There had always been old mares’ tails about changelings before they attacked Canterlot, but like most ponies he had never believed them. Luckily none of the princesses noticed his little outburst, even so, he still tried to vanish against the wall of the bakery. It was a futile gesture, as his orange fur and bright yellow mane stood out against the dull brown of the wall.
 
Twilight shook her head. “You never told anypony that Tirek had escaped from Tartarus until he was putting ponies in the hospital.”
 
“You hid the fate of the hippogriffs,” Luna added.
 
“And I’ve always wondered how much you knew about the Storm King before—”
 
Celestia slammed her hoof hard against the ground, her shoe sinking into the dirt as a cloud of dust blew up around her. “That’s enough!” she snapped, nearly shouting the words. “You have proven your point. I may have become far too secretive for my own good, but after ruling for as long as I have, I’ve learned the hard way that sometimes I must keep secrets from ponies. But only when it’s in their best interest.”
 
The other princesses each took a step away from Celestia, Cadence’s wings fanning out over her back while Twilight cowered slightly. Luna just shook her head, then narrowed her eyes before saying only two words. “Palladium’s coup.”
 
Celestia pulled back like she had been stuck, her wings flaring out over her back as a scowl crossed over her face. Her mane started to ripple and dance while the colors started to brighten “That, was uncalled for,” she growled out.
 
“Was it?” Luna asked with a snort. “We lost Commander Hurricane only weeks after the Pillars had vanished. If you had just told anypony what you had learned beforehoof…”
 
The two sisters glared at each other, the temperature in the area behind the bakery sharply dropping. It reminded Skychart of being under a thunderhead that was quickly growing out of control and was about to become a supercell. Small pulses of magic were starting to dance along the length of their horns, growing brighter by the moment.
 
Cadence moved between the two princesses before they could start throwing spells at each other, the blue glow of her own magic pushing them apart. “Stop it, both of you! This isn’t the time for it,” she scolded in a tone that every mother could effortlessly use.
 
They continued to glare at each other for a few moment moments before Celestia turned away with a huff, the glow of her magic starting to fade.
 
“What else have you neglected to tell our new princess?” Luna asked.
 
“Nothing,” was the curt reply.
 
“I want to know why you thought it was wise to tell her like that.” Twilight asked, the tone of her words uncertain. “How did you think she would react when you just casually mention that you were going to march a brigade of guards through her country?”
 
Celestia let out a sigh as some of the tension seemed to leave her body, her wings relaxing against her sides as her mane returned to normal. “Reasonably,” she answered.
 
“And what is reasonable to you?” Luna asked with a slight shake of her head. “Have her smile and agree with you to your face, but then work against you behind your flank? This is not Canterlot, and Gilda is a commoner, not a member of the nobility. You can not expect her to act like those sycophants.”
 
She let out a soft snort. “I had at least expected her to act like a rational mare, or at least—”
 
“Gilda isn’t a pony,” Twilight said, cutting off Celestia, only to pull back a moment later, hoof over her muzzle, with a look of horror on her face. After a few moments of silence, Luna motioned for her to continue.
 
Twilight took in a deep breath as she lowered her hoof, shifting her weight like she was bracing herself for what she was about to say. “She’s a griffon. She doesn’t act like a pony, and she doesn’t think like a pony. Griffons don’t herd, they flock, and while they may move as a group, it’s always while trying to find the greatest advantage for themselves. They will not start galloping just because there is a stampede.”
 
Celesta started to say something in response, but only got as far as opening her muzzle before she thought better of it. Her wings twitched, her primaries fanning out slightly then pulling tight as she forced then closed. “I know she isn’t a pony, anypony can see that,” she finally said, choosing her words carefully.
 
“But you just called her a mare, not a hen,” Cadence replied.
 
The princess frowned, her eyes narrowing as she tilted her head slightly to one side. “I think…” she started, but let it trail off as she slowly lifted her head to look at the other princesses. Her eyes flicked between them for a few moments, then down to the ground under her hooves. She stood there for a good number of seconds, the only motion the flicking of her tail and the natural motion of her mane.
 
Eventually she started to speak. “Twilight Sparkle, Cadence, Luna, you are all correct. I have been acting as if she was one of the Canterlot nobles, and not the griffon that she is. That is my error, and one I will have to rectify. I must think what the best way to do so is, and how to adjust my behavior.”
 
“Which is all well and good,” Cadence replied. “But there is still the bitch to deal with.”
 
The smile started to return to Celestia’s face, her ears perking up as she spoke. “Sidereal Equinox is an experienced guard. I’m sure he’s already explained to Gilda that there is no way she could muster the force she needs to deal with Queen Chrysalis in a timely manner. She will simply have no choice but to allow my guards to take care of the issue.”
 
“One can hope,” Luna replied with a sigh, then fanned out her wings and took to the air, vanishing into the sky. A few moments later, Cadence and Twilight departed as well, leaving just the eldest princess in their wake.
 
Skychart watched her for a few more moments as Celestia looked at the bakery, her mane and tail fluttering out behind her. Finally, she turned and walked away from the bakery, her head hanging low as she left. He watched her go, both confused and worried about what he had just witnessed and if there would be any repercussions for his eavesdropping.
 
Finally, he opened the kitchen door and slipped back into the Bakery, debating if he should tell anypony what had just transpired.
 



 
There were two facts that every creature knew about griffons, even if they had never gotten to meet one before: They were so greedy they would sell their own grandmothers for a clawfull of bits, and they had explosive tempers attached to extremely short fuses. While exaggerated, there was some truth to the stereotype. Some griffs were the exception that proved the rule, but Gilda was not one of those. She was just as quick to anger as any other griffon she knew, but after her temper had seemingly destroyed her oldest—actually her only—friendship, she had forced herself to find a less destructive outlet for her anger.
 
Which was why she was currently whisking a bowl of heavy cream like it had killed her whole family, her tail thrashing so fast that it was nearly a tan blur. She grumbled under her breath as she worked, beak pinched tightly closed so only the muffled sounds escaped. It was all bullshit, she didn’t even need the damned whip cream, but it was a way to burn off a little bit of her anger before she did something stupid.
 
Greta had stayed with her in the kitchen, having taken out a tray of shortcakes from the ice box, allowing them to warm slightly on the stove. She was now mixing up some blueberries and raspberries in a bowl. The guard was just watching all of this from the short hallway that connected the kitchen to the front of the shop, next to the staircase. He hadn’t said anything since joining her inside the shop; he was just waiting.
 
Once the cream was properly whipped, she set the bowl down on the counter next to Greta. Now that she was feeling more in control of herself, she stalked out of the kitchen, pushing past the stallion while motioning for him to come with her. He did so, following her out and to the table as she took a seat in her chair. A frown curled her beak as she saw the tea was still sitting out, as if waiting for the ponies to return.
 
“Skychart, get in here and clean up!” she called out, but much to her surprise she didn’t hear the pegasus calling back. He was usually quick to respond when worked needed to be done, no matter what the task was.
 
Much to her annoyance, Sidereal started to collect up the dirty dishes and placed them on the tray. “So, where would you like to start?”
 
There were hundreds of different things she wanted answers to, but there was one she had to know immediately. “How long will it take to train a brigade of griffons?”
 
The stallion seemed to think about it as he sat down, while at the same time used his magic to take off his helmet, setting it down onto the table next to him. “To train and outfit fifteen hundred guards, plus all the support systems that they will need? Optimistically, six months. Realistically, at least two years. You don’t even have the basic foundations in place to build upon.”
 
She put her face in her talons, letting out something between a sigh and a growl. She had suspected that the answer would be something like that, but a tiny part of her had hoped otherwise. They could just start grabbing griffons off the streets and putting them in armor, but a draft wouldn’t help anygriff. It would just create more tension that she didn’t need. If she couldn’t muster her own army, she would have to accept Celestia’s, but after what had just happened, the last thing she wanted to do was crawl back to the princess with her tail tucked between her legs.
 
“Buck,” she muttered.
 
The stallion cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold, I don’t think that is the question you should be asking.”
 
Gilda glared at the guard from between her talons. “And what should I be asking?”
 
“How many griffons would you need to deal with the changeling hive,” he answered.
 
Rolling her eyes, she dropped her talons onto the table, allowing the claws to dig into the wood. “Fifteen hundred,” she replied.
 
Sidereal shook his head. “You should be able to do it with four to six griffons. It depends on what your intentions are.”
 
For Gilda, this just continued to prove that every pony in existence was crazy. “Six? How the hell can six griffons do what Celestia needs an army for?”
 
He started to smile, but seemed to think better of it. “Our intelligence on the queen is thin, but has improved over the last few weeks, so there are a few things we now know for certain. She is in the area of Garnet Point, she has been there for at most a month and a half, and she only has the help of a small group of drones to build the hive.”
 
Gilda just looked at the stallion, not sure what his point was.
 
“A brigade would be the right choice to deal with a fully established hive, but that’s not what you’re dealing with. We don’t have hard numbers, but there appear to be no more than fifteen drones. According to General Pharynx, even if she laid a new clutch the day she arrived, it would take at least another month before the grubs hatched and a year before they were useful to her.”
 
She blinked, not sure how to react to that. If he was right, what the hell did Celestia think she was doing? Why send an army to capture what sounded like a small camp?
 
“So, there are less than twenty changelings to deal with?” Greta asked as she set down a tray on the table. She had no idea how long her friend had been listening in, but it was clearly long enough. The tray held four bowls, each one filled with shortcake, fruit, and the whipped cream. It smelled wonderfully sweet.
 
“Thank you,” Sidereal said as he took one of the bowls in his field and pulled it towards himself. “It will be less than that, at any given time at least half the drones are patrolling and harvesting. A precision strike by a few well-trained griffons would be enough to resolve this situation, depending on what you want to do with the queen.”
 
Gilda pulled one of the bowls over as Greta joined them at the table. The last bowl was left sitting by itself, with no sign of Skychart anywhere around. She wondered where he had gotten off to; that wasn’t like him. Maybe he was trying to make peace with the pony princesses?
 
Brushing it out of her mind, she picked up a spoon and took a bite of the desert, taking a moment to savor it. She had baked the shortbread herself the day before, and somehow that made it taste better than if some other griff had made it.
 
“So, why the overkill?” Greta asked between bites.
 
The stallion paused for a moment, his spoon held in the blue glow of his magic. “It’s not my place to speculate on Princess Celestia’s motives.”
 
“Which means you know something, so tell,” Gilda said, making a quick gesture at him and accidentally flinging a small blob of cream off her spoon to land on the tip of his muzzle.
 
Sidereal just licked the cream off his nose while never breaking eye contact with Gilda. “There is a difference between hard facts, and wild supposition.”
 
“Then what are the hard facts?” she asked, making air quotes with her talons.
 
He looked intently at her for a few more moments before shaking his head and setting his spoon back down into the bowl. “The hard facts, Princess Gilda, are that there have been a number of attacks on Equestria over the last few years, even predating Twilight Sparkle’s rediscovery of the Elements of Harmony. Celestia has involved herself in many of them, but hasn’t been effective since the return of her sister.”
 
“Why is that?” Greta asked.
 
Sidereal just ignored the question. “Of those, there have only been two where she was involved directly in the fight. One was the recent invasion by the Storm King lead by Tempest Shadow, the other was Queen Chrysalis during her invasion of Canterlot. She lost both fights, but of the two, the fight with Chrysalis was the only one she went horn to horn with somepony. A fight that she lost in a single hit.”
 
That caused things to start to fall into place for Gilda. That feeling of anger and frustration that came from losing a fight you should have won. It was easy to fall into the trap of wanting revenge above all else, even to the point of losing sight of what was really important. “This is all about her pride. Chrysalis didn’t just beat her, she humiliated her. Celestia wants to crush her because of that,” Gilda said.
 
He shrugged his shoulders, taking another spoonful of shortcake. “It’s not for me to say. She was also turned to stone by Tempest Shadow, but Tempest was reformed by Twilight. There is one other thing that could be affecting her judgment, one that isn’t as well known. This is classified, as a princess you and your aides are allowed to know, but it doesn’t leave this room, understood?”
 
Greta and Gilda looked at each other, then Gilda slowly nodded. The fact that she would be privy to secrets had never crossed her mind, but it made sense. Every family had secrets, and what was a government other than the world’s most dysfunctional family? “Understood,” she said.
 
The stallion leaned in slightly over his dessert. “A couple years back, Chrysalis attacked Equestria again, but this time she did it from the shadows. The aim was to decapitate the government by taking out all our leaders, and it was a complete success. In one night, she was able to replace all the princesses, Twilight’s friends, the prince regent, core castle staff, head of the royal guard and Presider Fancy Pants. She was defeated by a group including Starlight Glimmer and King Thorax, and in defeating Chrysalis they discovered how to reform changelings.”
 
“Shit…” was all Greta said in response, slumping back into her chair and pushing away her bowl.
 
Gilda just nodded in agreement, curling her talons together as she thought about the implications of that. The idea of everypony in the government being replaced by changelings, it was terrifying to think of. It was amazing that nothing had happened during it, at least nothing she had heard of. “She wants to make sure there is no possible way for Chrysalis to escape this time.”
 
“Except there is no indication that it is Chrysalis,” Sidereal added.
 
Gilda was starting to get tired of all the surprises. “What?”
 
He nodded, finishing his dessert. “The intel doesn’t point to it being Queen Chrysalis. There have been signs of her skulking around the badlands, but nothing near you. I don’t believe she’s involved with this hive.”
 
Greta shook her head in disbelief, wings twitching against her side. “She’s just assumed it’s Chrysalis, and overreacted?”
 
“Once again, I can’t speculate,” he replied.
 
Gilda tapped her talons on the table top, thinking about everything she had just been told. It was a lot to take in, but it did help her understand why the princess had acted the way she did, but it didn’t excuse her. For now, there were more pressing issues.
 
“I’m sure I could find six competent griffons in town.” Well, Gruff would be able to find them, he would know exactly who she needed to talk to off the top of his bald head. “What will they need to do?”
 
Sidereal responded with a shrug of his shoulders. “It all depends on what you want to do with the queen. You would need fewer griffons to kill her then you would to capture her. Both could be considered valid options in this case.”
 
That made her blanch. Even griffons didn’t like the idea of killing some creature because they were causing problems. “That doesn’t sound like something ponies would do.”
 
“Officially, no, it’s not. We believe that every creature should have a chance to reform, and at this point the queen and her hive haven’t done anything to warrant such a reaction. Unofficially… it seems like that is exactly what we do,” he said with a chuckle. “Even I was expecting it to be otherwise, but it hasn’t happened that I’ve ever seen.”
 
“And then what?” Greta asked. “We don’t have any place to put her, and we can’t exactly lock her in the closet.”
 
Gilda crossed her forelegs over her keel, tapping the side of her beak with one of her talons. “I don’t know? What do the ponies do, ask her to be nice, then let her go?”
 
“Sometimes. It works for Princess Twilight,” Sidereal said, giving her a tiny little smile. “Though that’s not what we should concern ourselves with. You need to find the griffons you’re going to have do this, and then we can start training them. We should also find some that can be your guards, that way you have some sort of security. I was working in intelligence before being assigned to work with you, so I’ll arrange to have all the current intel and anything new sent to you directly from the service desk.”
 
Her eyes narrowed as she gave the stallion an intent look over the edge of her beak. She wouldn’t put it past Celestia to assign a pony to keep tabs on her. “You’re a spy?”
 
Sidereal chuckled. “Hardly, I mostly worked with processing and analyzing the data that came in. Primarily unsecured, though I had access to other areas. Don’t worry, I’m not here to spy on you, and Celestia's order put me directly under your authority. Right now, you are the only princess in my chain of command. If I was going to be spying on anypony, I would be doing it for you.”
 
Gilda nodded, wondering just how much of what he had told her was the actual truth, and not just an artful form of the truth. The stallion had an honest face, but in her opinion that would make him better at lying. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a choice at the moment, he was the only guard she had so she had to trust him to some degree, but not as much as her friends. She would still be keeping an eye on him.
 
“Fine, get me all of that information, and I’ll write up a call for griffons to sign up for guard training. Maybe we can find more than just six who have some skills for that,” Gilda said as she pushed back from the table and stood on her four feet.
 
“Very well. I will pitch my tent in the back by the secure wagon,” he said, standing up as well and picking up his helmet in his magic.
 
Gilda gave him a nod as she left the room, taking the stairs up to her bedroom. She needed some time to herself to clear her head and think about everything that had happened this afternoon. It was nearly enough to be overwhelming, but she would deal with it. She had to, there was no one else who could.
> Closing Circles
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gilda wished that it was raining.

There was just something about the sound of rain that helped her think. The way it plinked against the clay tiles of the roof, or the heavy plops as it hit the ground outside, even the tapping as it blew against the one small window in her bedroom.

Instead, she found herself walking around in tight circles in the small space of her bedroom, wearing claw marks into the wooden floor as her mind raced. Occasionally, she would try dropping down to rest on her bed (which, like most griffons, was more of a nest made from blankets and feathers) but it didn’t do anything to help her come up with the answers she needed. Instead, she just found herself sprawled out on her back, tail twitching in annoyance as she brushed her talons through her chest feathers.

She had been so sure she understood what was going to happen with the princesses, only to have it thrown out the window and torn to shreds. Changelings. She had only heard about them second claw, from the stories about the invasion and the letters she got from Dash. It felt like they were something out of a storybook, but now they were suddenly very real, and she had to deal with them.

Gilda knew what Celestia wanted her to do, and what the guard said she should do, but that didn’t actually tell her what she needed to do. Between the two of them, she trusted the guard more, even if she had no reason to do so. But what if he was wrong in his view of the situation? She would be sending a clawful of griffons to their death.

Did she even have the right to do such a thing? To risk the lives of others on what could be a fool’s errand? The very thought filled her with a sickening dread. She could hardly be responsible for herself, let alone griffons she didn’t even know.

Back when she was in flight school, back in Equestria, she had been made to study history. It was a subject that she had ignored for the most part, as it was all pony history, but one thing that had been drilled into her head was that the princesses had to make the hardest decisions. It seemed like the sort of trite thing teachers always said, but now she was starting to understand what exactly Professor Ginkgo had meant by that.

Rolling her head to the side, Gilda’s eyes came to rest on a few pictures that were tacked up on the wall next to her bed. They were some of the few personal items she had, things that captured moments and memories. One was an old, faded image of herself on the day she left for flight school, being hugged by Gruff. The old bird had a smile on his beak and looked on the verge of tears. It was one of the very few times he had allowed himself to show just how much he really cared about her—about all the cuckoos he had raised—and it wasn’t one she had ever seen again. Next to it was a picture of herself and Rainbow Dash, taken on the last day of Flight School, then a picture of the pair of them, plus Pinkie Pie, taken only days after they had renewed their friendship. A friendship she had given up on after her horrible visit to Ponyville.

Then, just like now, she had been filled with doubt about what she should do. On one claw, she had wanted to fly back and do everything she could to mend her oldest friendship with one of the few creatures that seemed to care about her, even if it meant begging for forgiveness. On the other, she just wanted to leave Dash to her new friends and wallow in her self-pity. She had spent so long trying to make up her mind that eventually enough time had passed that there was no longer any reason to decide at all.

It was only when she had finally given up on the whole idea that Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie had showed up and helped her mend what she thought impossible to fix, though in retrospect she wished it hadn’t nearly cost Dash’s life. If she had been willing to take the risk, to make the choice, it might have been fixed years sooner. Instead, it took the blind luck of the pair of them wandering into town.

Now though, instead of saving a friendship, her choice would be risking the lives of other griffons. It was all too much for her, and any griff could see that she wasn’t cut out to be a princess. But that didn’t matter anymore, did it? Grandpa Gruff was right, she was a princess, and that meant that she had to make those decisions. Maybe they would turn out to be the wrong decisions, but she couldn’t let that stop her from making them.

The only way she would allow Celestia to march her army across the border was if there was no other choice. She wanted to believe the guard knew what he was talking about, so for the moment she would do as he suggested. She would find six griffons, and train them to sneak into the hive. That training would take time, time that she would use to go over all this intel herself, to make sure she wasn’t making a mistake.

Of course, she still had to find the griffons to send on that mission—though Gruff would be able to help with that—and she also had to put out a call for griffons to sign up for a royal guard. She was sure there would be a lot of griffons willing to sign up for that, especially when they found out that they would be paid. Though once she wrote it up, she had no idea how to make copies of it. The ponies had provided all the copies of the treaty to post up around the cities, but she wasn’t sure anyone in Griffonstone had a printing press. She would have to hire some griffons to copy it by claw, but that could wait until first thing in the morning.

Gilda climbed out of bed and moved towards the little desk that was tucked into the corner of the room. It was a bit too small for her, but it was the only thing she had to write on. She was carefully uncorking the inkwell when there was a knock on her door. “Gilda?” Greta asked, her voice muffled through the wood.

She sighed. “What is it now?”

The door creaked open and her friend peeked her head inside the room. “Sidereal wants to cast some security spells over the bakery,” she said.

“Fine,” she said with a flick of her wing. He was a guard after all, this was the sort of thing he was supposed to be an expert in. It wasn’t like she would understand any of it if she asked for details. “Did Skychart finally show up?”

“He’s cleaning up the kitchen,” she replied.

Gilda nodded. “Good. I’m going to need one of you to run a message down to Gruff, and the other will need to go talk to the princesses and get copies of everything they know about this changeling queen.”

“Skychart can take care of the princesses,” Greta replied, a tiny frown on her beak. She didn’t like dealing with Gruff, but apparently she would rather deal with him than a herd of alicorns.

“Good,” she said, picking up a quill and carefully dipping it into the inkwell. The letter to Gruff shouldn’t take more than a minute to write.

Greta waited until she was just about to press the quill against the parchment to speak. “Finished your speech yet?”

A thin line of ink was smeared across the page as Gilda yanked her paw back and snapped her head around to glare at the hen. “You’re still my employee, I can fire you,” she snarled, jabbing a talon in her direction.

“But you won’t,” Greta said with a snicker, then slipped back out the door, letting it close behind her.

Gilda just watched her go, then slowly turned back around to look at the ruined parchment. She hadn’t planned on writing a speech for tomorrow’s ceremony, and it wasn’t like the griffons would sit and listen to her prattle on like the other princesses. Her plan was still to take it by wing, make it short, and just be done with it. Anyways, there were more important things to worry about than a silly speech.





While Gilda had never been afraid to speak in front of others, there was a difference between a lot of griffons, and the thousands that had been crammed into the town square. They filled every available space on the ground, and were perched on all the buildings surrounding the square. She had known that griffons were flocking to town, with the crowd in the square growing by the hour, but it seemed like every griffon in the Equestria had found a way to attend the ceremony.

And stranger yet, they were all sitting silently, looking at the small stage that had been set up next to her bakery. It wasn’t much more than a platform with a short podium that shimmered from the spells cast upon it, but that was all that they needed. Otherwise the stage was empty, waiting for noon when things would begin, but it still held their undivided attention.

Gilda was standing just inside the door to the bakery, trying to read over the small card that Twilight Sparkle had given her that morning. While she could say what she wanted when the time came, there were things that she had to say before she was officially crowned.

The rest of the princesses were waiting inside with her, along with her friends. It was good to know that no matter what happened, Greta and Skychart were there for her. Greta was constantly fussing with Gilda’s feathers, making sure they were properly in place and touching up her makeup every time she moved. Greta had also insisted that Gilda wear one of her silk scarfs, saying that she needed something more to look like a proper lady. Frankly, it made her feel silly, but she trusted Greta when it came to looking pretty, so she wore it. The scarf was being held in place by a golden brooch, which had a dark blue gem on its face. It was a piece that she had been given by an old hen who said it dated back to King Guto, so it felt right to wear it. After the ceremony, it would also become her key to the money wagon.

Skychart was fluttering around the room, doing anything that any of them needed. For the moment, that meant sitting down and talking with Twilight Sparkle, who seemed to have most of the nerves out of the whole group. From what Gilda could tell, she had missed the Crystal Empire’s version of this ceremony due to some sort of magic mirror, and she was worried something would happen to make her miss this one as well.

“It’s time,” Celestia said as she stood up from her seat, setting down her half-filled teacup on the table. She walked towards the door of the shop, her tail billowing out behind her and shining like the dawn. Princess Luna was right after her, the stars in her mane twinkling brightly. Cadence and Twilight Sparkle followed right after them (though with significantly less impressive manes). They each walked past Gilda and out into the square.

Gilda stayed back in the shop, waiting for the moment she was called forward, and hoping it wouldn’t take too long.

In moments both her friends were at her side. “You look good,” Greta said.

“Thanks to you,” Gilda replied, reaching up to gently adjust the scarf back into place as it shifted against her feathers. “You’ve both been irreplaceable these last few weeks. Thank you.”

Skychart blushed, but Greta let out a snort and made a show of rolling her eyes, though there was also a smile on her beak. “I wasn’t going anywhere. Working for a princess comes with a huge raise,” she teased.

“Backdated, of course,” Skychart added with a firm nod.

“No,” she snapped, glaring at the pair of them.

The three of them looked at each other, each one trying to look as serious as they could, but the stallion broke first, letting out a snort which turned into a laugh. It was enough to let the other two start laughing as well. It felt good to laugh, even with just how important everything was. It was a release, one that she hadn’t even realized she needed.

When the laughter finally trailed off, she found herself being hugged by Skychart. “We’re not going anywhere,” he said.

Greta rolled her eyes again, before pulling the pony off Gilda. “No hugging,” she scolded. That, along with no singing, was the first rule that had been laid down when he had started working at the bakery.

She was going to say something about it when she heard her name being called from outside. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her full height, and with head held high stepped out of her bakery and into the square. It was only a few short steps to reach the stage, though with so many eyes upon her, she felt like it took an hour to walk them.

Celestia and Luna were standing in the center of the stage, a large empty space between them. Twilight and Cadence were flanking them, but stood towards the back of the stage. They had all turned to look at her, each one smiling as she walked onto the stage and took her place between the two elder mares, feeling dwarfed by the pair of them.

“There is no oath to become a princess, no fidelity to be sworn,” Luna said. The words were directed at Gilda, but the magic amplified them across the square.

Celestia followed a moment later. “All that is required is a promise to your griffons, a promise that you will lead them as best you can.”

Taking in a deep breath, Gilda stood as tall as she could, her keel thrust forward and wings lifting upwards to make herself look just that much larger as spoke the words she had been rehearsing all morning. “Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and all the griffons of the Griffon Kingdom,” she paused for a moment, her voice sounding strange as it echoed around the square. “I promise to you, all of you, that I will lead you with all of my strength and kindness.”

Gilda’s crown rose from somewhere, glowing in Celestia’s magic. It was the same crown she had been wearing before, but now it felt like it was taking on its true meaning. “Then it is with great pleasure that I crown you Princess Gilda of the Griffon Kingdom,” she said, smiling as she placed the crown on Gilda’s head.

The crowd erupted into a cheer that seemed to grow stronger by the moment. It was like a dam had been broken as it rolled out over the square and across Griffonstone. There were whistles and general shouts of joy as well, though Gilda couldn’t help but hear the boos that were mixed in with the rest. They were nearly drowned out, but she still heard them.

It took some time for the cheering to die down, but once it did, Gilda was able to say the last part of this little play. “Luna, Celestia, thank you for entrusting me with the task. I will not let my griffons down.”

That brought a second cheer, though it only lasted a few moments this time. Just long enough for Celestia and Luna to step back, falling in line with the other princesses, leaving Gilda alone at the front of the stage.

Taking in another deep breath, she reached up and adjusted her scarf slightly, then brushed her talons over her keel before she started to speak. “There’s not much I can say to you that you don’t already know. Things have been bad for all of us for a very long time. It will get better from here, but it will take time, effort, and above all work, from each and every one of us. We can make something more than what we had, something more than what came before us. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be quick, but it will be worth it.

“While the ponies have given us food, medicine, and more, it’s not everything we need. We must make sure that every griffon has a roof over their head by the time the winter comes, so no one will be left out to freeze in the snow. Not just here in Griffonstone, but in Garnet Point, Grover’s Gap, and every village in-between,” even though she had no idea how she was going to do that, other than by going door to door and talking with every griffon who had a home that was in one piece to try and get them to help their neighbors.

“For now, I want you all to start looking around and thinking about what you can do to make things better, and what you can be paid to do.” That brought several cheers from all around the square. “No one is asking you to do this work for free, and no one should be expected to,” she paused trying to think of what to say next. There was so much more that probably needed to be said, but she didn’t know what those were.

“Today… Today is the start of something new for all of us, and I will do everything I can to make sure it’s something worthwhile.” It sounded lame to her ears, but she couldn’t think of any other way to end it. Maybe next time she should write a speech.

With that said, she took a few steps back as one last cheer came from the crowd, a few even bowed to her, though thankfully the rest of the crowd didn’t copy them. She couldn’t image how stupid so many griffons would look while trying to bow, let alone to her!

The five of them stood there for a few more moments before they started stepping off the stage. First Twilight and Cadence, then Luna and finally Celestia, leaving her the last one remaining. She took a moment to look back at the crowd, at all the griffons that were now depending on her to lead them, to be the first real leader they had in generations. Now she just had to work out how to do it.

Still, she gave them a smile as she stepped down off the stage, walking back towards the entrance to the bakery. She was surprised to see Gallus and another griffon standing a dozen wings away, being held back by one of the pony guards that had been posted for the ceremony. The moment he saw her, the cyan tom perked up his ears and gave her a smile.

She sighed, wondering what Gruff had sent him for this time. “You can let him in,” she called to the guard before pushing open the door to her shop. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting to happen when she came back inside, but to see the other princesses sitting back down at the table wasn’t it. That just felt too small compared to what had just happened.

Gallus came in a few moments after her, followed by another griffon. He was the larger of the two, with dark brown feathers and black fur that made his bright gold eyes and beak stand out. His wings here held tightly to his side as he glanced around, first at her, then towards the pony princesses.

“Who’s this?” she snapped at Gallus.

“Some Canterlot griffon that wanted to talk to you,” he replied.

The strange griff pressed one claw against his chest. “My name is Edmund, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. My father is Ambassador Greycrest, and he wished for me to speak to you on his behalf.”

She just stared at him for a few moments, her tail sweeping behind her legs. She had no idea who this Greycrest was, but if he was an ambassador, he might be someone who could help her. She was about to ask just who he was an ambassador for when Sidereal stepped out of the kitchen.

“Princesses, the guards have captured a changeling drone,” he stated in a bland tone that did nothing to reflect how important that was.

Instantly, the whole room was on their feet, but as Gilda had never sat down, she was the quickest off the mark, reaching the guard with one powerful leap across the room. “Where, and how?” she asked the guard.

“He turned himself in and wishes to speak with princess Gilda,” he explained.

“I would advise not speaking with the drone,” Luna stated. “It could be a trap.”

Twilight pushed forward, though the space around the door was getting quite cramped. “He could be like Thorax. We should at least listen to what he has to say,” she replied.

Gilda had no idea who Thorax was, but his name was enough to silence the other princesses, though she doubted it would last for long. With what little she knew about changelings, she didn’t think one could be a threat to her, not when she had so many ponies at her back. “Where is the changeling?” she asked.

“Out back,” Sidereal replied, then walked carefully backwards through the door and towards the kitchen. Gilda followed him outside, with every creature else not far behind. There were three guards standing next to the money wagon, the tips of their spears pointed at a bound changeling that was sitting on the ground between them.

The drone looked nothing like Gilda had expected, she had been thinking they would be bugs, and while it did look something like a bug, it looked more like a pony. It was dark grey, the skin smooth to the point of nearly shining, large eyes that glowed a soft bluish green, with a single curved horn rising from his head. In the dark she might have mistaken it for a pony, though the thick fangs jutting from his mouth might have given him away.

Gilda walked up to the bound drone, stopping only a wing away from him. It seemed like it might have been closer than the guards would have liked, as they shifted closer to her, not quite between her and the drone, but close enough that it would only take a step to separate them.

“You are the griffon princess?” the drone asked, a slight buzzing sound underlying his voice.

“I am,” she replied.

The drone nodded his head, the light glittering off his eyes. “I have been sent with a message from my Queen.”

A part of Gilda wondered if being a princess meant dealing with crazy surprises on a daily basis, because it was starting to feel like that. “And what is this message?”

“The Queen asks for parley.”
> Rough Weather
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The temperature took a sharp drop around the princess, changing so fast that small flakes of frost were gathering around Luna’s silver shoes. Each of the four mares had a different reaction to the drone’s words. Cadence’s muzzle was curled up in a look of disgust, her ears twisting back to lie flat against her mane. Twilight Sparkle, on the other claw, had her ears perked up, her wings twitching as her muscles tensed, leaning forward as much as she could while keeping all four hooves on the ground. Luna had taken a step back, her weight shifting and her tail lashed, her eyes drilling into the drone.
 
And Celestia stood rock still, a perfectly controlled flat and natural look held on her face, one that could have only come from years of practice. The only sign of a reaction was the slight spread of her primaries, but otherwise nothing about her moved. It was hard to say what she was feeling, but if Gilda had to make a guess, it was disappointment. The sort of disappointment you would direct at a young griff who had been caught with his claw in the till.
 
That was all fine and good for the ponies, but Gilda was just confused. She had never heard the word parley before and had no idea what it meant. It sounded like some fancy form of parsley, or some other green plant that no griffon would ever be seen eating, but that didn’t make any sense at all. It had to mean something different, maybe something like partner? Whatever it was, clearly it wasn’t something any of the ponies had been expecting.
 
She tried to hide her confusion, not wanting to project the wrong image, but quickly looked over the crowd to find someone who could explain it to her. It didn’t take long to narrow her choice down to Twilight Sparkle. Of all the creatures in the yard, she seemed to be the only one who looked happy about the message.
 
Gilda turned away from the drone and walked over to where the mare was. She then walked right past her while motioning for her to follow, which Twilight quickly did. Gilda moved towards the back of the yard, near the privy, where they wouldn’t be easily seen.
 
She turned to face the mare, leaning her head down to be closer to her. “Parley?” Gilda asked, trying to whisper the word.
 
The princess beamed as she bounced a little on the tips of her hooves. “It’s a Prench word,” she uselessly explained.
 
Letting out a sigh, Gilda ran a talon across her face and beak. “What does it mean?”
 
The mare blinked a few times, her head tilted slightly to one side. “Oh! It means to speak. Though in this context it would be a request from a hostile power to discuss an ongoing dispute.”
 
“The queen wants to surrender?”
 
Twilight shook her head, causing her tri-color mane to bounce across her shoulders, her bangs falling over her violet eyes for the briefest of moments before a brush of magic pushed them away. “No. While it might be possible she’ll want to discuss that, I doubt that would be the case. It's more likely that she wishes to speak about the on-going issues between Equestria and her hive. Possibly attempting to find some level of resolution that wouldn’t result in their destruction.”
 
It was a lot of words, but Gilda understood exactly what Twilight was saying. The queen wanted to bargain, and if there was one thing every griffon knew how to do from the shell, it was how to make a bargain. She tried to keep the smirk off her face as she turned around and walked to the drone, her head held high while ignoring every other creature for the time being.
 
Returning to her place in front of the drone, she leaned down to look the insect pony right in its glowing eyes. The colors shifted slightly, a small bright point twitching from side to side as she neared. It took Gilda a moment to realize that it was its iris, or whatever the insect version of an iris was.
 
“So, your queen wishes to bargain, then we will bargain. But it will be on my terms, not hers. Tell her to be here tomorrow at noon, understood?” Gilda said in the most commanding voice she could muster. For a second, she thought she heard one of the other princesses start to say something, only to have the word be cut off before it could start.
 
“I will tell her,” the drone replied, stiffening up a little as it spoke, the semi-transparent wings fanning out across his back. Yet it didn’t take off, instead it stood in place, like it was waiting for something more.
 
Gilda waited a few more moments, but nothing else happened. Maybe just telling the queen to come wasn’t enough? There was no reason for the queen to trust any of them, let alone a newly crowned princess, and it was possible then drone knew that. From what she had been told, if the situation had been reversed an invitation to the hive would have probably been a trap. If the queen would have set a trap, then she was probably expecting the same thing in return.
 
A quick glance at the other princesses made her think she was right, as while Celestia and Twilight hadn’t changed, Cadence was grinding her teeth as a vein seemed to be trying to erupt out of the fur around her horn, and Luna had tensed up like a coiled spring. Though a quick glance at Sidereal Equinox showed that the guard didn’t seem worried.
 
“Tell her that I will promise her safe passage, and a safe return. She may bring one guard, and no disguises,” she offered.
 
The drone nodded again, but once more didn’t move.
 
Out of the corner of her eye, Gilda caught Cadence saying something, but there was no sound coming from her lips. While she wasn’t exactly proficient and reading something as flexible as a muzzle, even she could tell that one of the words Cadence had tried to say was ‘bitch’.
 
That made her realize that this might be the first real chance they had to prove, one way or another, who the queen really was. “What is your queen's name?” she asked the drone.
 
“Queen Canthus,” it replied.
 
It was possible that the drone was lying, but Gilda doubted it. There was something in his voice that made her believe it. She felt relieved to find out it wasn’t actually the Queen Chrysalis that the princesses were so afraid of.
 
Looking down at the drone, she waited for a few more seconds before getting fed up with it. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go tell her!” she snapped.
 
That seemed to have been what the drone was waiting for, as it snapped a quick salute with one leg before leaping into the air, its wings buzzing loudly as it flew off into the sky, the sunlight shining off the black chitin of its body and making its wings glow. It was only then that she realized there was a hole running through his back left leg, and only because there was a moment when she could see a flash of light through it. Gilda had been told that a changeling’s body was riddled with holes, but she hadn’t noticed them before that moment and could only see one other as it flew away.
 
The yard fell into silence until the changeling vanished into the clouds. There was a flash of golden light from Cadence’s face, allowing her to finally speak. “What do you think you are doing?” she snapped.
 
Gilda ignored her for the moment, instead turning to face Sidereal. “You. Go talk with Grandpa Gruff. Find out who he thinks would make a good guard and then go recruit them. If that doesn’t work, find some griff you think would do the job. I want them here tomorrow morning in any decent armor you can scrape together.”
 
“Yes, ma’am,” the stallion replied.
 
Next, she turned her attention to Gallus. The attention caused the cyan tom to try and backpedal into the shop, only to find that the way was blocked by the other griffon he had brought with him. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not cut out to be a guard!” he protested.
 
“I know you’re not. You need to take the captain here to see Gruff, and don’t let that old buzzard give you the runaround. Got it?” she snapped.
 
Gallus rolled his eyes, but nodded as he walked over to Sidereal. A moment later the tom and stallion slipped out the back gate of the yard.
 
Next, she turned her attention to her friends, finding that the orders for them came easy to her. It wasn’t all that different from running the bakery—or at least as she had imagined it would be. “Greta, try and get the window fixed today. There’s that hen up near the runoff who squawks about glass, see if she can do something for us and negotiate a decent price. If you can’t do that… I don’t know, find a nicer sheet or something.”
 
“On it!” she said, leaping into the air.
 
“Skychart, go through and tidy up the front room of the shop and see if you can find a decent table. Then we’re going to need to make some food,” she paused for a moment, then turned from the pegasus to look back at the princesses. “Do changelings eat food?”
 
“Yes, but it’s not as nutritional as love is,” Twilight Sparkle explained.
 
Gilda rolled her eyes, but turned her attention back to Skychart. “Whatever you make, make it with love,” she said, adding some air quotes with the tips of her talons.
 
“So typical pony food, got it,” the stallion replied, then pushed past the strangely named griff to go back into the bakery.
 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Cadence repeated, emphasizing it with a slam of her hoof to the ground.
 
Gilda slowly turned around in place, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the pink princess. The mare was clearly angry, her jaw set firmly, ears pressed low, one hoof pawing at the ground, all the while glaring daggers at Gilda.
 
“What do you think I’m doing?” Gilda snapped.
 
The mare snorted. “Inviting the bitch to dinner.”
 
Gilda stepped forward, pulling herself up to her full height as she walked towards Cadence. She easily outsized the mare in height and wingspan, and she took full advantage of that, fanning her primaries out as her tail lashed. “I’m sure whatever queen bitch did to you earned your anger, but we just established that this isn’t her,” she said, stopping in front of Cadence, and looking down at her.
 
“The drone was lying,” was the mare’s response.
 
“Why would it lie about that?” Gilda snapped.
 
Cadence growled and was about to say something in return when Celestia cut her off. “There are a number of reasons why the drone would lie, and Chrysalis is the sort to tell her drones to do just that,” she said as she walked up to the pair, keeping her voice as calm as a frozen lake.
 
Gilda looked at the eldest princess and was about to say something but was cut off as the mare gave a slight shake of her head. “It must be weighed against the fact that Chrysalis would never ask to speak to you, she would replace those close to you and use them to control you until she could take your place. While it’s possible that she might have changed tactics, it might behoove you to take this at face value until proven otherwise.”
 
Cadence glared at Celestia. It seemed like she was about to say something but thought better of it,instead spinning around and flicking her tail in annoyance. “Fine,” she spat, then stomped out of the yard, making sure to slam her hoofs on every intact paving stone along the way.
 
“What’s her problem?” Gilda muttered under her breath.
 
“Chrysalis did great harm to her husband in the days before they were married,” Luna answered, her hearing apparently sharper than that of the other princesses. “I will speak to her,” she added and followed after the mare.
 
Gilda looked between Twilight and Celestia. The younger of the pair almost seemed excited while at the same time trying to hide it, giving her an unnatural stiffness. “Do you have something to say?” Gilda asked.
 
“This is so exciting! We’ve never gotten to speak to an unreformed changeling queen, we can learn so much from her! Maybe she wants our help to reform her and her hive? I should send a message to Thorax and see if he has any advice on how to deal with her,” the mare gushed.
 
Instead of listening, she just tuned Twilight out, letting her ramble as much as she liked. Instead, she focused on Celestia. “And you? I’m sure you have something to say about this.”
 
The elder princess tilted her head, looking down at Gilda with a little flick of her ear. The look on her face was inscrutable, and Gilda did her best to return it while waiting for the mare to speak.
 
After a few moments, she finally seemed to settle on what to say. “It is not what I would have done, but I will not say that it is the wrong thing to do. The very fact that this queen is open to such an offer is in and of itself, unexpected.”
 
Gilda couldn’t help but smirk a little bit and run her talons over her keel, fluffing up the feathers on her chest. “Unexpected because it’s a changeling, or because it’s not Chrysalis?”
 
“Both,” Celestia replied without hesitation. “The thought that this queen could be anyone other than Chrysalis had never crossed my mind. While I am not convinced that the drone is telling the truth, I’m willing to allow that possibility for the moment. I will not prevent this meeting, but I will request that you speak with Twilight so she can prepare a spell to ensure that neither you or any of your inner circle are replaced during it.”
 
As much as Gilda hated to admit it, that was a good idea, and one that hadn’t crossed her mind. Twilight Sparkle—who was still rambling even if no creature was listening—would be the natural choice to speak to about arranging that spell. Gilda made a note to speak to the mare about it as soon as possible. “Fine,” she said with an exaggerated huff.
 
Celestia showed a hint of a smile for a fraction of a second, before it vanished from her muzzle. “Though I do wish to speak to you about Edmond before you talk with him,” she said.
 
She glanced back at the strange tom who was still standing by the back door of the bakery, looking lost by everything that had happened since his arrival. “What about him?”
 
Tilting her head, Celestia lit her horn and brought a soft golden light over the pair of them. “His father, Lord Greycrest, calls himself the ambassador to the griffon kingdom, but that job was never granted to him. I do not know what his son wished to tell you, but please keep that fact in mind. If you do wish to make him the true ambassador, I will not object. He is familiar with the Canterlot Nobels, and he knows how to work them to his own ends. As long as your goals are aligned, he will be a great help to you, but when they diverge, he will put his own goals first.”
 
“So he’s a griffon then,” Gilda replied with a snort.
 
This time Celestia actually did smile. “Yes, that he is. I do not know his son, or how he will act, so tread carefully until you know what he wants.”
 
“Fine,” Gilda answered, not wanting to admit that she appreciated the warning. She knew nothing about Greycrest, so knowing that living among ponies had done nothing to dull his talons would change how she approached his son.
 
Snapping her head around, she looked directly at the Canterlot griffon, which made him jump backwards and hit his rump against the wood of the door. Without a word, she started walking towards the shop, pushing past the tom to open the door. “You coming?” she asked, before walking past him and back into the kitchen of the bakery, not even looking back to be sure that he was following.