> Even a Victorious Battle is a Terrible Thing
>  by SockPuppet
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> A sunny day in the Empire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's time," Twilight whispered.

Candance squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. "I will not cry."

"You will. We both will," Twilight said.

The choir was reaching the finale of their final piece, the Miserere, an Olde Ponish lament. Few ponies understood the words anymore—Cadance didn't understand the words—but the rising and falling voices echoed off the hard faces of the Crystal Empire's towers and public buildings, its polyphony mournfully filling the central Courtyard of the Empire.

Celestia placed a hoof on Cadance's back for a moment, and Luna kissed Cadance's cheek. The Princesses-Emerita then strode down the cordoned-off passage that would lead them to the back of the crowd, far from the limelight.

Cadance, her eyes stinging and throat sore, looked at Twilight. "One hundred ninety-two," Cadance said. "One hundred and nintety-two. Over five hundred in the hospital, and hundreds of walking wounded. Including—"

"Including," Twilight said with a nod, and hugged her sister-in-law. "Even a victorious battle is a terrible thing."

Cadance hugged Twilight back, and then glanced at herself in the polished crystal of a wall. With a hoof, she adjusted her crown on her frazzled mane, wiped her red eyes, and then they strode, side-by-side, Cadance leaning against Twilight, out of the curtained-off backstage, to the crystal dais erected for the ceremony.

The conductor side-eyed at the princesses, held the choir's final note for an extra second or two as Cadance and Twilight found their marks, and then slashed his baton down.

The echoes of the voices faded over several seconds, and then the only sounds in the Grand Courtyard of the Crystal Empire were the muffled sobs of the mourners.

So inappropriate, Cadance thought, looking at the sapphire sky, to have such perfect weather on a day like this. Freezing rain would have been more suitable. It would have matched the mood. I should have asked the weather crew to... to...

Crystal Ponies, three-tribe ponies, and a smattering of griffons, yaks, and all the other races all stared up at the Princess of all Equestria and the Empress of the Crystal Ponies. 

Every single face in the crowd looked as terrible as the face Cadance had just seen in her reflection.

The crystal heart spun in its place, a gray fog surrounding it as the pain of the Empire suffused it. Thank goodness there had been so many births, so many crystallings, so much joy, over the last several years, so that it could withstand today's affront.

But so many births in the last few years meant all the more young orphans, today.

A crystalling was scheduled for tomorrow, a crystal-pegasus colt, proof that, no matter how grevious the blow, the Empire endured. She suspected it would be the most-attended crystalling since Flurry's disastrous one, seventeen years before.

Upon seeing the princesses, the Crystal Legion snapped to attention, their ranks arrayed at the very front of the crowd. 

Nine hundred seven soldiers in the ranks. Only nine hundred and seven left, either unwounded, or healed enough to attend the... the...

...the ceremony.

The silver-armored ranks of the Legion glistened in the sun. Cadance's eyes were drawn to the back of the formation, to the one—the single one—of the soldiers in gold armor.

The lone officer who had survived the so-called victory.

Far in the back, in the raised box, Luna, Celestia, the Bearers, Spike, and Sunburst stood. Luna wiped tears with her wing, and Sunburst sobbed, with Rarity and Rainbow Dash each patting his withers.

Sunburst deserves a decoration, Cadance thought. He's no doctor, but he saved many wounded, nonetheless. We'll be distributing medals for years. Knight-Companion of the Order of the Crystal Heart, I think. No... No. Knight-Commander.

Just below the crystal dais, just at Cadance's hooves, waited the neat ranks of caskets, arranged in forty-eight columns of four rows.

Of the one hundred and ninety-two flag-draped caskets, eighty-six of the flags bore the gold trim of a dead officer.

And Cadance looked, just at her hooves, at the one flag which bore the purple trim of—

"Ponies," Twilight intoned into the sob-wracked stillness, her voice overpowering everything else, "and friends of all races. I thank you for joining us on this, this most terrible and solemn day. Four days ago, the Empire's very survival, Equestria's very survival, the survival of all the free races, was in doubt. Today, victory is won, but at such a terrible cost."

Twilight flared her wings high, and Cadance followed suit a moment later.

"We are here not to celebrate victory," Twilight continued, "the pain and the scars are too fresh. None of us have celebration in our hearts. We are here to mourn the dead, to remember the wounded, and to thank those of the Crystal Legion who placed their lives, their mortal flesh, and their sacred honor between their homes and their families and the horrific darkness that threatened everything they held dear."

Cadance stepped forward as Twilight stepped back.

Guardian Angel, a mint-green pegasus, the current Captain of the Guard, trotted up from the edge of the dais, and she winged out a scroll, trying to give it to Cadance.

Knees shaking and stomach roiling, Cadance fought to keep her wings flared, but they collapsed, dragging on the ground. Her eyes clenched, refusing to see the scroll.

For several seconds, the only sound was the crying of a single newly orphaned infant.

Cadance opened her eyes, and levitated the scroll from Guardian Angel.

"Let us remember," Cadance said. "Let us remember those who fell in battle. Private Able Hooves. Private Autumn Sunshine. Private Azure Skies. Private—"

She read. She read one hundred and ninety-one names, in ascending order of rank. Somehow, she kept her eyes dry and voice steady, although as she came closer and closer to the bottom of the list, her wings' trembling grew stronger.

"Major Hedge Row. Lieutenant Colonel Silver Sable. Colonel Lightning Strike. And... and... and..."

Cadance's voice broke, and her tears finally rolled down her snout. She rolled up the scroll and gave it back to Guardian Angel.

She raised her muzzle to the sky and wailed, "And, finally, General Shining Armor."

Silence reigned.

Soft feathers brushed Cadance's back as Twilight sidled up next to her, hugging Cadance with a wing. 

"I miss him, too," Twilight whispered. 

Candance buried her face into Twilight's flank, under Twilight's wing, and bawled. For four days, she had fought it—but no more. She sat down on the cold crystal and cried into Twilight's flank, snot and tears matting Twilight's coat and feathers and staining her formal robes.

The mourners, the entire crystal empire, cried with her. Cried for all the dead.

There were not enough tears to mourn so many—and this battle had been a victory. The Empire had taken the blow, shielding the rest of Equestria, the rest of the world, but the cost was unbearable.

Twilight nodded to the conductor, and he levitated up his baton. The orchestra picked up their instruments and the choir stood. The kaleidoscopic Omnes Generationes filled the square, giving Cadance ninety seconds to recompose herself.

As the short piece ended, Twilight strode to the very edge of the dais, and looked across the crowd. "Your government has kept all details secret thus far, other than the bare facts that victory was won, and the terrible price paid. It will be many years before we can piece together the details of what happened four days ago. It will be many years before the last medals are awarded and the last soldier properly honored, the last report written, and centuries before the last seminar is presented at the War College."

Guardian Angel walked forward, and stood at Twilight's side. Her gold armor shined in the bright sunlight, her brown eyes wet. Guardian Angel said, "But we have a Medal of Honor to award today. I now will read the citation, and so that everycreature may know what happened on that bloody field, and know the name of the hero who turned defeat into victory, and who made the price we paid, as terrible as it was, less than it might have been."

Twilight levitated up another scroll and held it for Guardian Angel.

The Captain of the Guard cleared her throat several times, and then read:

"On the eleventh of this month, when the threat of the enemy force was recognized, the General of the Crystal Legion, Emperor-consort Shining Armor, did activate the Legion. First platoon, C company, was without a lieutenant, who had just passed away in hospital from severe illness. The recipient of this award, a second-year Officer Cadet assigned to the Academy cadet battalion in Canterlot, being in the Crystal Empire on home leave between semesters, and under no obligation to do so, did volunteer to take command of First Platoon for the duration of the crisis."

The green pegasus shuffled her wings, and swallowed. Twilight held the scroll steady, but Guardian Angel looked over it, looked at the crowd instead of the words. Having written the citation, she knew it by heart.

Given the tears filling her eyes, Cadance thought, the Captain probably couldn't read anything, anyway.

Guardian Angel continued, "The Officer-Cadet did then take command of First Platoon. Upon the deployment of the Legion to the ice fields north of the Empire, the General did call an all-hooves meeting of the officers to prepare for the coming battle.

"The enemy did strike, by some stratagem or spell as yet not understood, and destroy the command post, killing all the officers of the Legion, except for the Officer Cadet, whose personal shield spell protected her from the blast.

"In the greatest tradition of the Guard, as senior surviving officer, and despite concussion and head injury, despite unstaunched bleeding, despite multiple broken bones, the Cadet did take command of the Legion.

"When the Crystal Legion wavered and appeared ready to gallop in rout, and as affirmed by more than one thousand witnesses, the Cadet did then wave her sword, order, 'Follow me!' and charge headlong against the enemy.

"The Cadet did then, by way of spell and sword, personally kill no less than fifty of the enemy, including the enemy commander.

"The Cadet did then lead the Legion into the pursuit of the enemy as the enemy fled in disarray.

"The Cadet and the Legion did then drive the enemy off of the ice fields and into the forests of the foothills, engaging the enemy in close-quarters and brutal combat, and did lead the destruction of the routed enemy.

"The Cadet did then prevent Crystal Legion soldiers, in their rage and confusion, from executing surrendered prisoners and enemy wounded, ensuring their treatment in accordance with the laws and customs of war.

"The Cadet did then engage in first aid and triage, saving the lives of no less than nine wounded, despite being grievously wounded herself.

"The Cadet did then ensure the medical treatment of the enemy prisoners.

"The Cadet did then refuse medical evacuation to hospital.

"The Cadet did then, while giving orders on the disposition of prisoners and consolidation of the field of battle, lose consciousness from blood loss and concussion.

"The Cadet, upon awakening after a blood transfusion, did then, and against doctors' orders, leave hospital and retake command of the Legion until relieved by superior officers arriving from Canterlot."

Guardian Angel's voice rose, and cracked as she fought tears. "In these events recounted, the Cadet did exhibit the greatest traditions of the Guard, especially the obligation of an officer to take command with adroitness and confidence, regardless of the situation, and did exhibit valor far above and beyond that expected of any pony."

Twilight lowered the scroll, and Guardian Angel shuffled her wings again, and looked at one particular pony in the Legion's ranks.

In the Courtyard of the Crystal Empire, more than ten thousand pairs of eyes turned to the lone remaining suit of officer's armor, the single pinpoint of gold in the sea of Legion silver.

"Trot forward," echoed Twilight's voice. "Trot forward, that we may honor you, and through you, honor all of our dead, all of our wounded, and all who fought on that bloody field. Trot forward, Officer Cadet Flurry Heart."

Cadance clenched her eyes, knowing what she would see.

And then forced them open, forced herself to see the horrible sight, forced herself to witness it.

Cadance forced herself to see her daughter.

Flurry limped out of her place in the Legion's ranks, inched her way around her soldiers, to the central aisle, towards the stairs that rose to the dais.

Both front legs were encased in plaster, walking boots covering the casts. She bunny-hopped forward, a few inches at a time, then stepped forward with uninjured rear legs. White bandages wrapped her skull, peeking out from under her helmet, and her right ear was gone, completely gone, amputated at the base, the other ear wrapped in blood-soaked cotton batting.

Black straps trussed her shattered left wing flush to her flank, immobilized.

Her cutie mark peaked out from under the armor as the muscles of her hips moved: a shield, shaped just like her father's mark, but a shield of blue crystal, like the heart on Cadance's flanks.

Blood filled Cadance's mouth, salty and vile, as she chewed the insides of her cheeks. She knew she didn't have much blood to spare, after donating so much to Flurry four days ago, having been the only other alicorn available. 

Cadance's tail thrashed, no matter how hard she fought to stop it, and her ears tucked deep against her skull.

Her daughter inched forward, toward the dais, on her broken legs.

Flurry reached the bottom of the stairs, and then placed one walking boot at a time on the steps, ascending.

Ascending, Cadance thought. Yes, that was the word, all right.

Flurry staggered onto the dais, swooning, off-balance, a frothy sweat breaking out, and she stood in front of the Captain of the Guard, Twilight, and Cadance.

Guardian Angel whispered, "Are you okay, Cadet? Can you make it?"

Flurry nodded, tailing whipping, and her remaining ear twitched under the bandages. "Yes, Captain."

The Captain nodded. Loud enough for everypony in the Empire to hear, she ordered: "Officer Cadet Flurry Heart... Attention!"

The teenager drew her hooves together, the walking boots clicking together. She tried to raise her head, but cried out in agony and tucked her head back down a few inches as something popped in her neck. 

Cadance shut her eyes, unable to watch her daughter in such pain. Unable to stand knowing how close Flurry had come to being the one hundred and ninety-third casket... right next to her father's.

After a few seconds, Cadance opened her eyes again, just in time to see Twilight levitate the medal around Flurry's neck, allowing it to fall into place against Flurry's armored peytral.

"The Medal of Honor," Twilight told the assembled thousands, "is awarded, on average, four times in a century. Wear this medal proudly, Officer Cadet, and be an example to the rest of the Guard of how an officer should lead from the front, and be an example to all of Equestria how a princess places her own life between her ponies and the darkness."

Flurry stumbled forward and leaned against her aunt, hugging Twilight with her uninjured right wing. "I... I didn't do anything..." Flurry whispered. "Anypony would have done the same... I miss... I miss him... dad would have done so much better... I made mistakes, ponies died because I made tactical errors..."

Cadance stood and approached, careful of Flurry's injuries, and wrapped a wing around her daughter.

"The fact that you don't think you did anything special," Cadance whispered, "is what makes you worthy."

"Worthy? I'll never feel worthy again. Dad is dead. If I... if I had gotten my shield spell up a half-second faster, if I had sensed what was happening, if I—"

"No," Cadance said. "If I onlies will kill you. After Sombra attacked, and took the Empire from us when you were a toddler, your father and I if I onlied for years."

Flurry nodded, and Cadance saw fresh blood soaking the bandage that covered the severed root of her lost right ear.

Turning to the crowd, Cadance levitated up Flurry's good wing, and then flared her own wings. "Ponies!" Cadance shouted. "Crystal Ponies, and friends! Your Princess stands here, battered but undefeated. Victorious but unconvinced of her victory. She questions the honor we bestow upon her, and names herself unworthy and unsuccessful. What do you think? Is this a failed princess unworthy of her title?"

"Mother!" Flurry gasped into the moment of stunned silence, "What—"

The roar of the crowd washed over them, and Flurry turned her head away from the crushing blast of noise as if it were a splash of scalding water.

"No!" screamed the crowd and soldiers. "No!"

Cadance raised a hoof, and silence returned. "Five alicorns stand on this square. Five princesses. Celestia and Luna earned their reign in battle against the God of Chaos. Twilight earned her reign against Tirek, Chrysalis, and the Storm King. I, and my husband, earned our reign..."

"You're off script," whispered Twilight.

Cadance looked down, staring at the flag-draped casket, the only casket with a purple-trimmed flag.

"Shining Armor and I, with much help from Twilight and the others, wrenched this Empire from the grasp of Sombra. Four alicorns, four reigns earned in battle."

"You're off script," repeated Twilight.

Tearing her eyes away from Shining's casket, she looked at the crowd. "My husband is dead, death earned by again fighting for the ponies of the Empire. Our reign has always been—had always been—a reign of two equals. Half of me is gone, and I cannot continue."

"You're off script!" hissed Twilight.

Cadance allowed her wings to collapse, the pinions dragging on the dais again. "I cannot continue without him. I must—I must heal, and I cannot heal on the throne. Luckily, there is a fifth alicorn, and this alicorn has earned her reign in battle, now, too."

Cadance turned to face Flurry Heart. "The Empress has abdicated," she intoned, and then knelt down, down to all four knees, before her daughter.

Twilight and Guardian Angel, confused but taking their cue, knelt, too.

Ten thousand spectors knelt to Flurry Heart.

"Long live the Empress!" shouted Cadance.

And the crowd's reply of "Long live the Empress!" was so loud it cracked half the windows that overlooked the Courtyard.





Shining Armor's graveside service was small, attended only by the Bearers, the alicorns, Twilight and Shining Armor's parents, Sunburst, and Starlight.

There would be many small graveside services over the next few days, Cadance thought. Over two hundred, because at least a dozen of the wounded were not going to leave the hospital alive.

After the service, the five alicorns adjourned to the Imperial Cabinet's small meeting room, just off the throne room. 

Two doctors entered. Flurry levitated off her helmet—thanks be to Fate that her horn was uninjured—and the older doctor, a unicorn mare, unwrapped her head and examined the stump of her lost ear. 

"How do your legs feel, highness?" asked the unicorn. "You did too much walking today."

Cadance looked at her daughter. The teenager's face was ashen, the usual light pink a sickly gray, her body shaking. Flurry levitated up a carrot stick from a vegetable tray to crunched down on it angrily. 

"Hurt."

The other doctor, a young pegasus stallion, adjusted the tension on the trusses around Flurry's shattered wing. 

"Your ear incision?" asked the unicorn.

"The stump is fine, thanks to the medicines. The ear itself itches like you wouldn't believe, and when I reach to scratch it—empty air, because my ear is in the hospital somewhere, waiting for its turn in the incinerator." 

Cadance clenched her eyes shut and bowed her head, her stomach twisting at the agony in her daughter's voice.

Twilight looked at her hooves. Celestia took a sip of tea. Luna levitated a cauliflower floret from a vegetable tray, dipped it in dressing, and crunched demurely. 

Flurry looked into the mirrors that made up the entire north wall as the doctor wrapped her head in fresh bandages. Flicking her remainnig ear, she said, "I'm ugly. How... how long do alicorns live?"

"No alicorn has ever died of old age," Celestia replied. "Only violence. I'm nearing two thousand, and haven't aged since I was thirty."

"I'll be ugly forever," Flurry said. "Are you done?"

"Yes, highness," said the older doctor. "Once your wounds have healed, we should be able to fit a prosthetic—"

"Thank you very much for your assistance. You two are excused."

The two doctors bowed, said, "Highness," and left the cabinet room.

With a click, the door latched behind the retreating doctors.

"Technically," Twilight said after they were gone, "they should be calling you 'Majesty,' not 'Highness,' now that—"

Flurry burst from her seat and leaped to the top of the table, and the sound of the two foreleg boots smacking against the crystal echoed. The stink of Flurry's sweat filled the room. "Mother, what the Tartarus was all that about, back at the service? You—you can't abdicate! You're the Empress, and I'm just an officer cadet!"

Cadance opened her eyes, and blinked the tears away, so she could see her daughter. "I'm—I'm broken, Flurry, without your father. But you? You've taken the best of both of us. Look at your cutie mark: a crystal shield. Can there be any doubt that that protecting the Empire is your destiny?"

Flurry sat, plopping her bottom on the table. Her thrashing tail knocked the vegetable tray onto the floor. "Yak shit," Flurry said. 

"The best of both of us," Cadance said. "You fought like him, thinking only of your soldiers, and never yourself. You've earned that shield cutie mark. And like me..."

Flurry used her uninjured wing to wipe her eyes. "Like you?"

"The prisoners... your soldiers were going to kill them."

"They—they were enraged. Beyond all reason. I had to stun them, fifteen of them, but they're fine. They just needed a buck to get their discipline back."

"You saved enemies' lives. You showed love, even to those who didn't deserve it, love for living creatures for no reason other than because they are living creatures. Does that remind you of a princess you know? You're the best of both of us."

Flurry slid her uninjured rear legs off the table, down to the floor, and then gingerly lowered herself into her chair. "Sweet heavens, my legs hurt."

"They're broken," Luna said. "Of course they hurt. Your left leg was a compound fracture, yes?"

"Yes."

Cadance gasped. "Why didn't somepony tell me that? Why are you in walking boots at all, instead of flat on your back in the hospital?"

"Mother..." Flurry whispered. "Why now? Why today? I mean—in fifty years, sure, I would be ready then..."

"I've always known the day would come," Cadance said, "the day when we handed off the Empire to you. I privately expected it to be decades from now, when your father was old, and past his prime. Never have I wanted to reign past his... his..."

Twilight lowered her head to the table, covered it with her wings, and sobbed.

"I've buried three husbands, and two wives," Celestia said. "It never ceases to hurt."

"Why did you marry dad?" Flurry asked. "You knew he was mortal."

"Because I loved him. It's, I mean, it's hard to put into words..." Cadance closed her eyes and worried her lips with her teeth. "I love more deeply, I think, than anypony else alive. That's why it's my special talent. Because I have so much love to spare, is why I can help to spread love, and my love for your father, well. It was the deepest love I've ever known."

Twilight keened softly, deep in her throat, and her feathers trembled. 

Flurry looked at Cadance. "I think I understand why you need to go heal, now. Why you have to step away. I—I loved dad with everything I have, but it wasn't like what you're capable of. Will... do you think you'll find somepony else, someday?"

"I can't think about that right now."

Flurry levitated up a piece of celery and scratched her ear stump with it. "Itches! Mom, what will you do now?"

"I'll stand behind you," Cadance said, "ready to offer advice when you ask. I'll help you heal. Your wounds are deep, and the physical wounds are the least of them. But I'll not be some shadow ruling from behind the throne. You've proven yourself a princess, in fact and not just in name. I'll let you be that."

Twilight raised her head. "I'll give you time to heal, Cadance. But I'll need you, someday, somehow. A princess-without-portfolio is a valuable card to have in my deck."

Luna tapped a hoof on the table. "I do not enjoy retirement. Not one bit. I had a one thousand year sabbatical, thank you very much, and I really didn't need or want a rest. I shall move here and take the remains of the Crystal Legion under my wing, and return it to you, Flurry, in a year or two, the most keenly honed weapon the world has ever seen."

"Thank you, Aunt Luna."

Luna nodded her head and twitched her ears.

Flurry hung her head and asked, "What do we do now?" 

Cadance gave her first smile in days. "You're the Empress. You tell me."